The Big Red Book of Modern Chinese Literature

by Yunte Huang

  “I had to go the long way around by the Western Hills. I was afraid that if I took the main road someone would catch me. I was pretty sure the villagers would grab me as a deserter if they thought things over.”

  Liu smiled and his eyes rolled back and forth. He had been afraid Hsiang Tzu was lying about the money. Maybe it was stolen. He wasn’t going to hide anyone’s loot for him. He had done every lawless thing there was to do when young, but he had to be careful now that he had taken up the role of reformed character. He knew what to watch out for, all right. There was only one flaw in Hsiang Tzu’s story, but he had explained it away without mumbling. The old man relaxed. “Now what?” he said, pointing to the money.

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Buy another rickshaw?” The old man stuck out his tiger teeth again as if to say, “You buy another rickshaw and still think you’re going to stay at my place free again?”

  “There isn’t enough. I’ve got to buy a new one!” Hsiang Tzu did not look at Liu’s teeth. He was concentrating on his own thoughts.

  “Lend you the money? One percent interest. Anyone else gets charged two and a half.”

  Hsiang Tzu shook his head.

  “Buying on installments from a dealer is not as good as giving me one percent.”

  “I won’t buy one on installments either,” Hsiang Tzu said intensely. “I’ll save up until I get enough. Ready cash buys ready goods.”

  Old Liu stared at Hsiang Tzu as if he were trying to read a strange word he couldn’t figure out and detested, but could hardly get angry at. He waited awhile and then picked up the money. “Thirty dollars? You’re sure about the amount?”

  “That’s right.” Hsiang Tzu stood up. “I’m going to bed. I’ve brought you a box of matches, sir.” He put the box on the table and stood blankly for a moment. “There’s no need to tell people about the camels.”

  [In chapters five through seventeen, Hsiang Tzu was seduced by Hu Niu and fooled into marrying her. Hu Niu’s father disapproved of the marriage and disowned her, forcing the couple to move out and rent a room in a shabby mixed courtyard in the city. Hsiao Fu Tzu in the text below is the young daughter of the couple’s neighbor Ch’iang, who was also a rickshaw puller. Earlier in desperation Ch’iang had sold his Hsiao Fu Tzu to a military officer, but she had come back and tried to feed the family by prostituting herself.]

  Chapter Eighteen

  There was simply no human sound at all in the mixed courtyard when June came. The children went out very early clutching their broken baskets to collect whatever they could. By nine that poisonous flower of a sun was already drying and splitting the skin on their skinny backs and they were forced to come home with what they had gathered and eat whatever the big people gave them. The somewhat older children, if they could scrape up the least amount of capital, would buy some bits of natural ice from an icehouse and, combining it with some they had scrounged, would go out and sell it all quickly.

  If they hadn’t got together this mite of capital, then they’d all go to the moat outside the city wall and take baths, stealing coal at the railway station outside of town without any extra trouble on the way. Or they’d go catch some dragonflies and cicadas to sell to the children of rich families.

  The younger children didn’t dare go so far. They all went to places nearby where there were trees and collected locust tree insects, digging their larvae out for fun.

  After all the children had gone out, and all the men were gone too, the women would sit in their rooms with their backs bare, but none of them dared go outside. Not because of the way they looked, but because the ground in the courtyard was already hot enough to burn their feet.

  Finally, when the sun was fast setting, the men and children came back in a continual stream. By this time there was shade from the wall and a little cool breeze in the courtyard. The hot air stored up in the rooms all day made them like the inside of a steamer basket. Everybody sat in the courtyard waiting for the women to get the cooking done. The courtyard was quite crowded then; it was just like a marketplace but one without merchandise. They had all been through one day’s worth of heat and they were red-eyed and ill-tempered. Their bellies were empty again and their faces even more anxious and pale. Let one word be spoken out of line and some of them wanted to beat the children, others wanted to beat their wives, and if they couldn’t be beaten, at least they could be cursed at furiously. This sort of ruckus continued until everyone had eaten.

  After eating, some of the children just lay down on the ground and went to sleep while others went out to the street to chase and frolic around. The adults all felt more cheerful after they had eaten their fill and those who enjoyed talking gathered in several groups to discuss the misfortunes of the day.

  But those who had not yet eaten had no place to pawn anything or sell anything, assuming that they had anything to pawn or sell, because the pawnshops were already closed. The men paid no attention to how hot the rooms were. They dropped their heads down onto the k’ang and made not a sound or, perhaps, cursed loudly. The women held back their tears and tried to smooth things over. Then they went out and, after who knows how many rebuffs, finally managed to borrow twenty cents or so. Clutching this precious money, they went to buy cornmeal to make some mush for the family.

  Hu Niu and Hsiang Tzu were not part of this pattern of living. Hu Niu was pregnant and this time it was true. Hsiang Tzu would go out bright and early but she always waited until eight or nine and then got up. It is a traditional and erroneous belief that it won’t do to exercise when pregnant and Hu Niu really took it to heart. Besides, she wanted to take advantage of her condition to show off. Everyone else had to get up and get moving early. She was the only one who could calmly enjoy lying in bed as long as she liked. When evening came, she’d take a small stool to a place outside the front gate where there was a little cool breeze and sit there. She went in after almost everyone else in the place had gone to bed. She couldn’t be bothered to gossip with them.

  Hsiao Fu Tzu got up late too, but she had another reason. She feared the sidelong glances the men gave her, so she waited until they’d all gone to work and then, and only then, did she dare go outside her door. During the day, if she didn’t visit Hu Niu, she’d go out walking because her advertisement was simply herself. In the evening, to avoid attracting the attention of the men who lived there, she would go out into the streets for another turn and sneak back when she figured they had all gone to bed.

  Hsiang Tzu and Ch’iang were the exceptions among the men. Hsiang Tzu disliked entering this courtyard and feared going into his rooms even more. The endless griping of all the other men made him frantic and he longed to have a quiet place to sit by himself. At home, he felt more and more that Hu Niu was like a mother tiger. On top of that, the rooms were so hot and disagreeable that, with the tiger added in, it was as if he couldn’t breathe when he got inside. Formerly, he’d come home early to avoid having her yell at him and scold him. Recently, with Hsiao Fu Tzu for company, she hadn’t been keeping tabs on him so much, so he’d been coming home a little later.

  Ch’iang hadn’t been coming home much recently at all. He knew what his daughter was doing and he didn’t have the nerve to come in the gate. But there was nothing he could do to keep her from doing it. He knew he didn’t have the strength to take care of his children. It was better for him not to come back, and to pretend that out of sight is out of mind.

  Sometimes he hated her. If Hsiao Fu Tzu had been a boy, he could guarantee that nothing this disgraceful would have been necessary. But this having a daughter! Why did it have to happen to him? Sometimes he pitied her. Here was his own daughter selling herself to feed her two little brothers! He could hate her or feel sorry for her but nothing else. When he was drinking and broke he didn’t hate or pity her; he came back wanting money from her. At a time like that, he thought of her as something that could earn money. After all, he was the papa and to demand money from her was simply a matter of “calling things by
their right names” and carrying out the correct relationship between father and child.

  Sometimes he also thought about appearances. Didn’t everybody hold Hsiao Fu Tzu in contempt? Her father couldn’t forgive her either. He’d force her to give him the money and curse her too, as if he were cursing her for everyone to hear. He’d show them that he, Ch’iang, hadn’t done anything wrong. It was Hsiao Fu Tzu who was born not caring about her reputation!

  He’d rail at her and Hsiao Fu Tzu wouldn’t even let out a deep breath. Hu Niu, on the other hand, would alternately swear and urge him to leave. Of course he’d take some money with him. It was only enough to keep him drunk because if he sobered up and looked at the money he’d just jump in the river or hang himself.

  The heat on the fifteenth of June was enough to drive people mad. The sun had just risen and the ground was already afire. Puffs of gray dust, like clouds and yet not clouds, like mist and yet not mist, floated low in the air, making people exasperated. There was no breeze at all. Hsiang Tzu looked at the grayish-reddish sky and decided not to start work until late afternoon. He’d wait until after four o’clock to go out and keep going until dawn if he didn’t make much. No matter what the night was like, it would be easier to put up with than the daytime.

  Hu Niu nagged at him to get out of there. She was afraid it would hinder business if he was there because Hsiao Fu Tzu would probably bring home a “guest.”

  “You think it’s better here? By afternoon even the walls are scorching!”

  He said nothing, drank some cold water, and went out.

  The willows along the street looked sick. Their leaves were all curled up and covered with dust; their branches, barely moving, drooped in utter dejection. There was not a spot of dampness anywhere in the main street. It was so dry it shimmered whitely. Then the dust from the dirt streets flew up and joined the dust in the sky to make a poisonous layer of gray dust that burned people’s faces. It was dry everywhere, hand-scorching everywhere, depressing everywhere. The whole city was like a fired-up brick kiln, which made breathing difficult.

  Dogs crawled along with their red tongues dragging. The nostrils of horses and donkeys flared out. The street vendors didn’t dare yell and the asphalt pavements began to melt. It was so bad it seemed the sun would even melt the brass shop signs. The streets were very quiet, except for a monotonous banging and clanging from the metalworking shops, which annoyed people.

  Rickshaw pullers were well aware that they wouldn’t eat if they didn’t get a move on, but they too were reluctant to look for business. Some parked their rickshaws in a shady place, put the top up, and took a nap in the rickshaw. Some burrowed into tea shops and drank tea. Others didn’t take their rickshaws out at all; they just went out and looked around to see if there was any possibility of working. Those who were out working lost face quite willingly, even if they were the most prepossessing of fellows. They didn’t dare run and just shuffled along with their heads down. Every well became their lucky star. It didn’t matter how far they’d gone—when they saw a well they hurried over to it. They’d just take a long drink at the trough along with the horses and donkeys if there wasn’t any freshly drawn water. And there were those who, coming down with cholera or befuddled by sunstroke, just went on and on until they collapsed and never stood up again.

  Even Hsiang Tzu was a little scared! He realized, after pulling an empty rickshaw for a while, that he was surrounded by burning hot air and even the backs of his hands were sweating. But he still intended to take a fare if he got one in the hope that running might make a little breeze.

  He did get a passenger, started off, and then realized that the temperature had reached a point that would not allow anyone to work. He’d run a little and then couldn’t breathe. His lips were burning and seeing water made him want to drink it, although he wasn’t really thirsty. That poisonous flower of a sun would split the skin on his hands and back if he didn’t run. He got to his destination one way or another with his clothes glued to his body. He took his palm leaf fan and fanned himself. It was no use. The breeze was hot. He had already lost count of how many times he had had a drink of cold water and still he made for a teahouse. He felt somewhat better when he’d downed two pots of hot tea. The sweat came out of his body as soon as the tea went into his mouth. It was just as if the inside of his body was open at both ends and couldn’t hold a drop of water. He didn’t dare move.

  He sat for a long time feeling very queasy. Since he didn’t want to risk going out again and had nothing else to do, he began to think that the weather was determined to make things difficult for him. No, he would not give in to weakness. This wasn’t his first day pulling a rickshaw and this wasn’t his first nasty encounter with summer. He couldn’t just fritter away an entire day this way.

  He thought he’d go out but his legs were reluctant to move and his body was unusually weak. It was as if he’d spent too long in a hot bath and still didn’t feel any better for it, even though he had sweated a lot. He sat a while longer and then couldn’t put up with it anymore. Sitting here made him sweat too, so why not go out briskly and try anyway?

  He realized his mistake as soon as he got outside. The layer of gray air had already scattered and the sky wasn’t so depressing, but the sun was much worse than before. No one dared lift his head to look at it. All anyone knew was that the glare dazzled the eyes everywhere. The glare was all over. There was a whiteness shot through with red in the sky, on the rooftops, on the walls, and on the ground. The sun was a huge burning glass; it was as if every sunbeam had come through it and was heating things to their flash point. In this white glare every color stabbed the eyes and every smell had mixed in with it a fetid stench boiled out of the ground. There seemed to be no one in the streets, which had suddenly become a lot wider and without a breath of cool air. Their glitter made people afraid.

  Hsiang Tzu didn’t know what to do. He plodded on very slowly, pulling the rickshaw with his head down. He hadn’t anywhere to go. He was confused. Covered with sticky sweat, he was giving off a sour smell. After he walked awhile his shoes and socks and feet were all stuck together, just as if he’d stepped in soppy mud. It was extremely uncomfortable.

  He hadn’t any intention of drinking more water but he went over to take a drink automatically whenever he saw a well. Not, however, to relieve his thirst. Apparently, it was to enjoy the bit of coolness when the well water went down his throat and into his stomach and produced a moment of sudden chill, gooseflesh, and a cold shiver. It was very pleasant. When he finished he’d hiccup repeatedly. The water wanted out!

  He walked awhile and sat awhile. He was much too listless to look for business and still didn’t feel hungry when noon came. He considered going to get something to eat as usual but felt nauseated when he saw the food. His stomach was full of almost every kind of water and sometimes made a little sloshing noise like the sound inside the belly of a donkey or horse which has just been watered.

  When comparing the seasons, Hsiang Tzu had always believed that winter was more horrible than summer. It had never occurred to him that summer could be so unbearable. He’d been through more than one summer in this city all right, but couldn’t recall ever being so hot. Was the weather hotter now than it used to be or was his body failing him? When he thought of that he was suddenly not so muddled and his heart seemed to have grown cold. His body, yes, his own body, wasn’t making it! It frightened him, but there was nothing he could do to change things. There was no way he could drive Hu Niu away. He would turn into another Ch’iang or a man like that tall fellow he’d met or Hsiao Ma’s grandfather. Hsiang Tzu was done for!

  He got another fare shortly past noon. This was the hottest part of the day, and the hottest day of the year as well, but he decided to make the trip at a run. He didn’t care how hot it was in the sun. If he managed it, and nothing happened to him, well then, that would prove there was nothing wrong with him. If he couldn’t do it, what was there left to say? He might just as well trip and
break his neck on the fiery ground!

  He had gone only a little way when he became aware of a cool breeze just like cold winter air coming into a hot room through a slit in the door. He didn’t dare believe it, so he looked at the willows along the road for confirmation. Yes indeed, they were all moving slightly.

  Suddenly a great many people were out in the street. Those in the shops fought to get out and then held rush-leaf fans over their heads while they looked around. “There’s a cool breeze! A cool breeze is coming!” Almost all of them wanted to shout and jump for joy. The willows suddenly seemed to have been transformed into angels bringing heavenly tidings. “The willow branches are waving! Lord of Heaven grant us a cool breeze!”

  It was still hot but hearts were much calmer. A cool wind, even a little one, gives people lots of hope.

  This cool wind passed by and the sunlight was not as strong; it was bright and then somewhat dimmer, as if a veil of flying dust floated in front of it. The wind suddenly rose and those willows, motionless most of the day, acted as if they’d had some pleasant news. Swaying and swinging, their branches looked like they’d grown another length. A gust of wind passed by and the sky darkened. All the gray dust flew high up into the sky and then settled back down and inky clouds were visible on the northern horizon.

  There was no more sweat on Hsiang Tzu’s body. He looked northward once, stopped the rickshaw, and put up the rain cover. He knew that summer rain comes when it says it’s coming and doesn’t waste time. He’d just got the cover on when there was another gust of wind. The black clouds were rolling onward and had already covered up half the sky. The hot air on the ground combined with the cold air above and the noisome dry dust. The air seemed cooler but it still was hot. The southern half of the sky was clear and sunny. The black clouds in the northern half were like ink.

  Everybody was alarmed and frantic as if some great disaster loomed. Rickshaw pullers hurriedly put up rain covers, shopkeepers scurried to take down their signs, street vendors scrambled around stowing away their goods and mats, and pedestrians rushed by.