by Yu Hua
“Fugui, will you still be able to take care of yourself?” she asked.
“I will,” I said.
Jiazhen gave up after that. Although she was depressed about those four work points, she was able to get some comfort from the fact that she could still support herself.
After Jiazhen got sick, things became even harder for Fengxia. She had to do the same amount of work in the fields as before, but even more at home. It was a good thing that she was still young. By night she’d be exhausted, but after a good night’s rest she’d have strength and energy. Youqing began to help out with our small, private plot of land. One day at dusk, as I was coming home from work, Youqing called out to me from our yard. I went over to him and, rubbing the handle of his hoe and lowering his head, he said, “I learned a whole lot of characters.”
“Good,” I replied.
He raised his head and looked at me for a moment, adding, “I’ve learned enough to use my whole life.”
I thought, this kid’s really got a big mouth. Not really paying attention to what he was saying, I told him, “You’ve got to continue studying hard.”
It was only then that he finally said what was really on his mind. “I don’t want to study anymore.”
As soon as I heard this my face dropped.
“No way,” I said.
Actually I had already thought about letting Youqing drop out, but I had given this idea up because of Jiazhen. If Youqing stopped going to school, Jiazhen would think it was because of her sickness. I said to Youqing, “If you don’t study hard, I’ll kill you!”
I regretted it a bit after I said it. It was only because of his family that he wanted to give up school. This kid was only twelve years old and already so sensitive, it made me both happy and uncomfortable. I realized that I would have to start being more careful about scolding him and hitting him. That day I went into town to sell firewood, and on the way home I bought Youqing five fen worth of candy. This was the first time that I had bought anything for my son. I felt I should show Youqing that I loved him.
Carrying a pole on my shoulder, I went into Youqing’s school. The school was made up of only two buildings, and the kids were inside muttering and babbling as they studied. As I approached one building I saw Youqing. He was in the classroom all the way at the end, where a woman teacher stood at the blackboard talking about something or other. I stood outside the window and saw Youqing, but the second I laid eyes on him I began to lose my temper. This kid wasn’t even studying! He was throwing something at the kid in front of him. We had given Fengxia away so he could have the opportunity to get an education, and even then, with Jiazhen as sick as she was, I still hadn’t let him drop out. All the while, here he was jolly and gay, running off to school to screw around. I was so angry that I couldn’t even think straight. I threw down my pole, rushed into the classroom and slapped Youqing in the face. Only after I hit him did Youqing see me. He was so scared his face turned white. I said, “You really piss the hell out of me!”
Yelling like that made Youqing tremble, and I slapped him again. Scared completely senseless, Youqing drew his body back. Then the teacher rushed over.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded. “This is a school, not your home in the countryside.”
“I’m his father!” I answered.
I was so mad that my voice was especially loud. The teacher also started to lose her temper.
“What kind of father are you?” she said sharply. “Get out! You’re more like a fascist or even the Nationalists!”
I didn’t know what a fascist was, but the Nationalists I knew. She was insulting me. No wonder Youqing didn’t study hard—he had a teacher who insulted people.
“You’re like the Nationalists, not me,” I said. “I’ve seen them before and you’re just like them!”
The teacher opened her mouth, but instead of yelling back she began to cry. The teachers from the classrooms nearby came over and pulled me out. Once I was outside, the teachers surrounded me and started babbling at me. I couldn’t understand a single word out of their mouths. Then another woman teacher came over, whom I had heard them address as the principal. She asked me why I had hit Youqing, so I systematically went through the whole story. I explained how I had given Fengxia away and how even now with Jiazhen ill I still hadn’t allowed Youqing to drop out. After listening to me, the female principal said to the other teachers, “Let him go home.”
As I picked up my pole to leave, I saw the classroom windows filled with little heads checking out the excitement. This time I had really hurt my son. Youqing wasn’t upset because I had hit him, but because I had made a scene in front of so many of his teachers and classmates. By the time I got home, I still hadn’t calmed down. I told Jiazhen what had happened, and after listening to me she said it was all my fault.
“Look at you,” she said. “How do you expect Youqing to face anyone at school with you barging into his classroom and making a scene like that?”
After hearing her out, I thought about it and realized that I really had gone a bit too far. I had made my son lose face, not to mention having lost my own. That afternoon when Youqing got home from school I called him over, but he flat out ignored me. He simply put down his book bag and headed outside. When Jiazhen called him though, he stopped in his tracks. Youqing walked over to his mom, his shoulders shuddering as he cried in sadness.
For over a month after that, Youqing wouldn’t pay any attention to me. If I told him to do something he’d do it right away, but he wouldn’t say a word to me. The thing was, the kid didn’t do anything wrong, so even if I had wanted to lose my temper, I didn’t really have a reason to.
Thinking about it now, I really did go too far—my son was crushed by what I’d done. It was a good thing that Youqing was still little. After a while, he seemed to warm up to me. He still wouldn’t answer me when I talked to him, but from the look on his face I could tell he wasn’t holding a grudge. Sometimes he’d even steal a glance at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I knew that after not speaking to me for so long he was embarrassed to suddenly start talking to me again. As for me, I was in no rush. Sooner or later my son would reach out to me again.
After the dining hall closed, no one in the village had any real resources. Just getting by was becoming more and more difficult. I decided to use the last of our savings to buy a lamb. Lambs are the best animals for people—they fertilize the land and in the spring you can sell their coats for extra money. But more than anything, the lamb was for Youqing. If I brought a lamb home for him, heaven knew how happy he would be.
I talked it over with Jiazhen, and she was also excited about the idea. She told me to hurry up and go buy it. That afternoon, with the money tucked under my shirt, I went into town. I bought a lamb in the western part of town near the Guangfu Bridge. On the way back I went by Youqing’s school. At first I wanted to go in and surprise him, but on second thought I decided it was best not to. The last time I’d gone in I’d ended up causing a scene, and I didn’t want to upset Youqing again.
After I led the lamb out of town and got within sight of home, I heard the sound of someone running up behind me. Before I could turn around to see who it was, Youqing called out from behind, “Dad! Dad!”
I stopped and saw Youqing running over, his face bright red. As soon as this kid saw me leading a lamb, he forgot that he wasn’t talking to me. Trying to catch his breath, he asked, “Dad, did you buy him for me?”
I smiled and, nodding my head, handed the leash over to him.
“Take him,” I said.
Youqing, taking hold of the leash, picked up the lamb and walked a couple of steps with it in his arms. He then put the lamb back down and, holding on to its hind leg, squatted down to have a look. When he finished he said, “Dad, it’s a female.”
I laughed out loud and reached out my hand to squeeze his shoulder. Youqing’s shoulder was skinny and slight, and I don’t know why, but the moment I touched him a sadness came over
me. As we walked home together, I told him, “Youqing, you’re slowly growing up. Dad won’t hit you anymore, and even if I do happen to hit you, I’ll make sure it isn’t in front of other people.”
Having said that, I looked down at Youqing. He looked away. What I said had actually embarrassed him.
Now that we had a lamb again, Youqing had to get back into the routine of running to school every day. Besides cutting grass for the lamb, he still had to do the work in our private plot. I never imagined that with all that running back and forth, Youqing would actually run himself into a bit of an achievement. The day Youqing’s school held an athletic meet I went into town to sell some vegetables. After selling them, I was getting ready to head home when I saw a crowd of people standing beside the street. I asked what was going on and found out that the kids were running a ten-lap race around town.
That year Youqing was in the fourth grade. It was the first time a town-wide athletic meet was held, and the kids from elementary school and junior middle school ran together. I put my pole and empty baskets down beside the road and went to see whether Youqing was running with them. After a while I saw a group of kids about the same height as Youqing run by. There was one kid whose head bobbed up and down as he ran, then there were two others who staggered along with their heads hanging low. It really looked like they weren’t going to make it. Only after they passed did I catch sight of Youqing. Holding his shoes in his hands, he went barefoot, huffing and puffing as he ran. He was running all alone. Seeing him dragging behind I thought, this one’s really hopeless, he’s probably going to end up embarrassing me. But everyone was rooting for him. I was really confused. I watched dumbfounded as a couple more junior middle school students ran by, leaving me even more confused. I wondered what kind of a race they were running here. I asked someone beside me, “How come the older kids can’t seem to catch up with the younger ones?”
“Those kids who just ran by have already lapped the others a couple times,” replied the man standing next to me.
The second I heard that, I suspected that Youqing was one of the kids he was talking about. The happiness I felt at that moment was indescribable. Even the kids four or five years older than Youqing were a lap behind him. With my own eyes I witnessed my son, in his bare feet, shoes in hand and face red, be the first to run ten laps around the town. After finishing, he didn’t even have to struggle to catch his breath. One at a time, he just lifted up the soles of his feet, wiped them on his pants, and put on his cloth shoes as if nothing had happened. After getting his shoes on, he put his hands behind his back and watched, proud as a peacock, as the older kids ran by.
Deep down I was ecstatic. I called out to him, “Youqing!”
Carrying my empty load I proudly went over to him. I wanted everybody around to know I was his father. As soon as Youqing saw me, he started to get uncomfortable and immediately took his hands out from behind his back. I patted him on the head and said loudly, “That’s my boy, you made your dad proud.”
Hearing how loud my voice was, Youqing hastily looked around to make sure none of his classmates had seen me. It was then that a big fat guy called over to him, “Xu Youqing!”
He quickly turned around and began running toward that guy. Youqing was blowing me off. As he rushed off he turned around to say, “My teacher’s calling me.”
I knew that he was afraid that I’d get even with him after we got home, so I waved my hand and said, “Get going.”
The fat guy was really enormous—when he put his hand on Youqing’s head, I couldn’t even see my son’s face. It looked like a giant hand was growing out of Youqing’s shoulders. The two of them affectionately walked over to a little shop, and I saw the fat guy buy Youqing some candy. Youqing held the candies with both hands and stuffed them into his pockets. He let his right hand linger in his pocket so he could hold on to the candy. When he came back over to me, Youqing’s face was bright red—that was because he was happy.
That night I asked Youqing who the fat guy was.
“He’s my gym teacher,” he replied.
“He acts like he’s your father,” I added.
Youqing took the candy that the fat guy had given him and spread it out on his bed. First he separated his candy into three piles, and after looking at it for a while he took two pieces from two of the piles and put them in the pile closest to himself. Then after looking at the piles again he returned two pieces from his pile back to the other two piles. I knew he was going to give one pile to Fengxia, one to Jiazhen and leave one for himself. He wasn’t going to give any to me. I didn’t expect that he would then take all three piles and mix them up together, separating them again into four piles. He went back and forth like this, but in the end there were still only three piles.
After a couple of days, Youqing brought his gym teacher home with him. The fat guy couldn’t stop praising Youqing, saying that when he grew up he was going to be a great athlete and go abroad to compete against foreigners. Youqing sat on the doorstep, so happy that sweat dripped from his face. I didn’t think it was a good idea to say anything in front of the gym teacher, but after he left I called Youqing over. As Youqing looked at me his eyes lit up. He thought I was going to go on boasting about him, but I said to him, “You’ve made your mother, your sister and me all proud, and for this I’m very happy. But I’ve never heard of anyone making a living by running. We sent you to school because we wanted you to read and study, not so you could learn how to run. Running isn’t something you need to study or learn. Hell, even chickens can run!”
Youqing immediately lowered his head and walked over to the corner to pick up his basket and sickle. I asked him, “Will you remember what I said?”
He walked over to the door and, with his back turned, nodded and then went outside.
That year, before the rice had had a chance to turn yellow, while the stalks were still a green color, a seemingly endless downpour began. It rained for almost an entire month straight. Although it cleared up a couple of times, it was never for longer than two days, and then the sky would once again grow dark and the rain would return. We saw the water in the fields accumulating, and as the level of rainwater increased, the rice started to droop. In the end, patch after patch of rice was completely submerged. The older people in the village cried, and they all said, “How are we supposed to get by?”
The younger generation wasn’t as pessimistic. They kept thinking that the government would save us.
“What’s there to worry about?” they said. “There’s always a way out. The team leader went to the county seat to get some grain.”
Three times the team leader went to the commune headquarters and once to the county seat, but each time he came back with nothing but a few words. “Everybody calm down! The county magistrate said that as long as he doesn’t starve, he’s not going to let anyone else starve.”
A heat wave lasting several days followed that month of rain, and all the rice in the fields rotted. When night fell and the wind blew, the stench was unbearable, not unlike that of rotting corpses. At first everyone hoped that we would still be able to use the rice straw, but because we couldn’t harvest the rice, the straw also rotted. We were left with nothing. The team leader said the county magistrate would send us grain, but no one ever saw any. No one completely believed what the leader said, but then again no one dared not to believe. How could we get by if everyone lost hope?
It got so bad that people would count the grains of rice as they put them in the pot. There was barely any food left. No one would dare to cook rice; instead we’d all cook rice porridge— and the porridge was getting thinner and thinner. Two or three months later all the food supplies were gone, and nothing new was coming in. Jiazhen and I talked it over and decided to bring the lamb into town to sell her. We figured we’d be able to trade her for about one hundred ten jin6 of rice. That would get us through the season until the next rice harvest.
It had been a month or two since any of us had eaten our fill, but
that lamb was just as fat as before. Every day you could hear her “baa baa” sound loud and clear coming from the lamb pen— Youqing could take the credit for that. He had hardly anything to eat himself—every day he would complain about being dizzy— but not once did he shortchange his lamb when it came to her grass. He loved that lamb in the same way that Jiazhen loved him.
After Jiazhen and I discussed selling the lamb, I brought it up with Youqing. He had just dumped a basket of grass in the lamb pen. The rustling sound of the lamb chewing the grass sounded like the falling rain. Youqing stood to one side with his basket in hand, laughing as he watched the lamb eat her grass.
He didn’t even notice me walk over. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he twisted his head around to look at me.
“She’s famished!” he said.
“Youqing,” I said, “Dad has something he wants to talk to you about.”
Youqing nodded and turned around to face me. I continued, “Our grain at home is almost gone. I talked it over with your mom, and we’ve decided to sell the lamb. We can trade her for some rice; otherwise, our whole family will go hungry.”
Youqing lowered his head and didn’t utter a sound. He was unwilling to part with his lamb. I patted him on the shoulder and said, “Wait until things get better and I’ll buy you a new lamb.”
Youqing nodded his head. He had grown up. He understood much more than before. If it had been a few years earlier, he would have cried and made a scene. As I walked out of the lamb pen, Youqing pulled my shirt and pleaded pathetically, “Dad, please don’t sell her to a slaughterhouse.”