by Tong,, Su
They solemnly announced their decision: ‘The coffin will stay in Seven-Li Cave to store grain to keep it from rotting. As for Qinsu’s wife and son, they can stay or leave; it’s up to them. But the dead man, Qinsu, is unwelcome here. You can take him away and bury him wherever you please. Seven-Li Cave may be a poor place, but rites and morality are important here. There is no place for a robber and a thief, whether he is from the area or not, and no matter where he’s been, even if he has returned from serving the King. Seven-Li Cave will not stand by and allow such a man to be buried here.’
The irate carter could not control his tongue. He smirked. ‘What kind of place is this? You’re poor and lowly, and yet you talk about honour. You can forget about the rest if you won’t take the dead man. All I can leave you is a few wheel ruts.’
It had taken a great deal of trouble to get to Seven-Li Cave, but it took none to leave. The carter flicked his whip, and the dead man, the living, the oxen, and the coffin were on the road again. They never expected that their trip to Seven-Li Cave would end in such haste, and the carter could not stop cursing, furious that the villagers had drifted back into the incense cave even before the cart had left. ‘They can’t read a word, but they know how to recite chants! They won’t claim a member of their own family, and all they care about is a bumper wheat crop! I hope they have a flood next year, then a drought and, after that, locusts. Then we’ll see what kind of harvest they have!’
Binu turned to gaze at Seven-Li Cave in the smoky mist, the look in her eyes turning to bewilderment. This was the first time since leaving Peach Village that she had actually tasted the sorrow of others; it was bitter and it was cold. Qinsu’s spirit began to rage uncontrollably. Filled with remorse and guilt, she patted the coffin to comfort the corpse inside. ‘Qinsu, don’t be sad. It’s not that your family didn’t want you or your coffin, just that you’d been away so long that no one remembered you. That is not your home, and it is useless to go back there. Maybe it wasn’t even Seven-Li Cave, maybe the carter took a wrong turn.’
‘Are you talking to a dead man?’ The carter turned to glare at Binu. ‘Who says I took a wrong turn? I’ve driven for years and never once did I take a wrong turn. If I made a mistake, it was with the people. The problem was with the people at Seven-Li Cave.’
The strange hearse returned to the road; two oxen and three people, plus an unclaimed coffin.
Surprisingly the early autumn floodwater remained on the ground. The sun shone brightly high above the deserted, bleak public road, which was overgrown with weeds, covered with mud, and full of streams and holes of unknown causes. The hearse was no sooner on the road than it was ambushed by a subterranean hole. The axle snapped and the cart broke into two. The oxen strained to cross the hole, leaving the wheels and the coffin behind in the water, and throwing Binu and the boy in it as well. They crawled onto dry land, only to see one end of Qinsu’s coffin sink into the water and the other end about to detach itself from the cart.
Frantically whipping his oxen, the carter complained, ‘What sort of task did Lord Hengming give me, anyway? First the people give me trouble, then the water and the road, and now it’s the turn of you oxen. Just wait and see if I don’t whip you to death!’
‘Elder Brother,’ said Binu, ‘please don’t beat them. It’s not their fault; the coffin is trying to run away.’
‘A coffin doesn’t have legs,’ the carter argued as he stared at the coffin in the water. ‘To hell with you, Qinsu,’ he cursed. ‘You were a loathsome man alive and just as loathsome dead, and now your spirit is out to trap my oxcart.’
‘Don’t blame Qinsu’s spirit for our difficulties,’ said Binu. ‘We’ve been walking in the sun for three days now, and Qinsu can no longer stay in there, no matter how nice the coffin may be or how wonderful the fragrant herbs are. If he isn’t buried soon, they will no longer be able to cover the stink of corruption.’
‘Who does he have to blame for that? Himself, that’s who!’ screamed the carter at Binu. ‘I’ve transported more than a dozen coffins, but none like this. Someone with karma as bad as that is bound to stink.’
The carter waded through the water and placed one foot on the coffin. Excessive fatigue and anger lent his face a green pallor. His nose dripped when he spoke, and spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth. He began kicking the coffin. ‘If you want to stop here, that’s your business. You left my cart of your own accord, and there’s nothing I can do if you want to leave your corpse out on the open road. Heaven has eyes. I can report back to Lord Hengming that I suffered taking you to Seven-Li Cave.’ He started pushing down on the cart to help the runaway coffin slip more easily into the pothole.
‘We can stop anywhere except on the road,’ Binu pleaded. ‘You cannot leave a coffin on the road. The dead man’s spirit cannot go into the ground, where it belongs, and people’s carts and horses cannot get past.’
‘That’s even better. That’s what Qinsu wants. Since he can’t move, he doesn’t want anyone else to get past.’ The boy banged on the coffin and burst out laughing. ‘At long last I’ve met someone with worse karma than mine. It’s one thing for me to forget where my home is, but something else altogether when people in your own hometown won’t accept your coffin. Now that is bad karma.’
‘No matter how bad his karma is, you simply cannot leave his coffin on the road.’ Binu walked up and grabbed the carter’s sleeve. ‘Elder Brother, you must complete the good deed you began. Since you can’t manage with no hands, we’ll help you unload the coffin and place it in the field. But please don’t leave it on the road.’
The carter shoved her away, just as the heavy black lacquered coffin sank into the water with a loud sucking noise. The three of them stood frozen to the spot, staring at the coffin, one end in the water, the other end sticking straight up, a lonely object towering over the road like a wayward boulder. That seemed to calm the agitated spirit of the dead man. They could almost hear the sound of water seeping into the coffin.
Wuzhang, the first to recover, came over to press down on the coffin with his foot. ‘That’s good,’ he muttered. ‘He didn’t jump out, which means he doesn’t want to give up such a nice coffin.’ Then he pushed down hard and said, ‘So much the better. Qinsu, you cannot accuse me of being unkind or inhumane. You picked the spot. This pothole on this public road is your Seven-Li Cave, and when I pass by here next spring I’ll remember to burn some spirit money for you.’
There were no travellers on the road; no carts or horses passed by. Once the coffin was unloaded, the two Blue Cloud oxen began grazing by the side of the road, waiting for the carter to put the yoke back on them. But he had to give up trying to fix the broken axle, and he sighed deeply. ‘Without hands, it’s no use. I can drive with my feet, but I need hands to fix the cart.’ Then, looking towards Blue Cloud Prefecture, he sighed again. ‘It’s all Qinsu’s fault. I drove an oxcart out, but now I’ll have to return on the back of an ox. I don’t know what sort of punishment Lord Hengming will choose for me, but whatever it is, I deserve it.’
It was time for them to go their separate ways, a moment that came upon them suddenly.
The boy, sitting on one of the cart planks, wiped a tear from his eye and said, ‘I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m going to sit here and wait for a salt merchant’s caravan.’
‘No salt merchants are likely to pass through a place as remote as this.’ Binu tried pulling the boy up to take him over to the carter, but he wouldn’t budge. So she looked north. ‘If you have nowhere to go, then come with me to Great Swallow Mountain.’
‘Only fools go to Great Swallow Mountain,’ he shouted, feeling humiliated. ‘You may be a fool, but I’m not. I’d rather die than go to Great Swallow Mountain.’
The carter and his oxen stumbled off into the dusk, leaving Binu and the boy on the road. Half of the black lacquered coffin remained submerged in water, the other half was exposed to the setting sun. What had been a splendid and luxurious coffin only yesterday was
now spattered with yellow mud and looked utterly dispirited. Since no spirit voice emerged from inside, they could not tell what it wanted done. Perhaps it was unable to be master of the coffin, so Binu decided she would act. She tried to drag the coffin out of the pothole and push it off the road down the slope.
But no matter how hard she tried, it was stuck fast. ‘Come and help me,’ she called to the boy. ‘Qinsu may not have been a nice person, but he was raised by human parents, and we cannot let his coffin remain on the road.’
‘He wasn’t raised by human parents. He was no better off than me. Seven-Li Cave, my eye! Old father, old mother, brothers and sisters – ha! A pack of lies. He slithered out through a crack between two rocks, just like me.’
‘That doesn’t mean we can leave his corpse exposed on the road. No one has any say in when and where they are born. Everything depends on your parents and your previous life. But no matter how tough your life is, you need to have a good death and, end up in the ground. If Qinsu just lies here on the road, in his next life he’ll either be a dirt clod or a pebble, and people will trample on him all day long.’
‘I’m not going to help you do anything,’ the boy said contemptuously. ‘Only a fool would believe you. All you talk about is the next life. What’s so wonderful about the next life? This life has been bad enough. If some stupid woman dares to give birth to me next time, I’ll try my hardest to crawl back into her belly and refuse to come out.’
The boy would not help, and neither would the spirit. Since Binu could not move the coffin by herself, she gave up trying and walked into the empty field, where she broke off a branch and said to the boy, ‘You did a fine job digging a grave before. Let’s dig one for Qinsu. When men walk by and see a hole, they’ll understand. They’re strong and they’ll move his coffin into the hole.’
The boy grinned and pointed at the evening sky. ‘You’d better stop worrying about Qinsu and get on the road. Haven’t you heard that the forest is infested with bandits? If you don’t get moving, you may run into them.’
‘My bundle is gone and all I have left is this mourning robe.’ She picked up the hem and looked at it. ‘No, I’m not afraid of bandits.’
‘You’re a woman. If you don’t have anything they want, they’ll take you.’
That gave her something to be afraid about. She rushed back onto the road, where she gazed fearfully at the gloomy fields all around. ‘Yes, it’s time to go. I’ll have to leave Qinsu’s coffin to some kind-hearted person.’ She tried to pull the boy up, but he shrugged her hand off.
‘Are you deaf? I told you I’m not going to Great Swallow Mountain. I’ll wait for a travelling pedlar. When one of them comes along, I’ll have food to eat and clothes to wear.’
‘Do you really plan to sell yourself to a travelling pedlar? They buy old stuff and sell new stuff, but they don’t buy and sell people.’
‘I’m not going to sell myself. Besides, people who sell people don’t sell themselves. I have something good to sell, but I’m not telling you what it is.’ Suddenly, a secretive flame burned in his eyes, which shifted evasively. But only for a moment, until he revealed his secret. ‘I’m not afraid to tell you. I’m going to sell Qinsu’s coffin.’ He rubbed his hands together as a sign for money. His voice turned shrill. ‘I’m selling the coffin. The people at Hundred Springs Terrace said that Qinsu’s coffin is worth lots of gold!’
Binu was shocked. She clapped her hands over her own ears.
‘Why are you doing that? I’m selling Qinsu’s coffin, not your ears. You women are always making a fuss. If you think you’re being cheated, you can take Qinsu’s funeral robe. Didn’t you say your husband needs a winter coat? Qinsu’s funeral robe is made of silk and satin, just the right gift for your husband.’
Binu watched the boy walk up to the coffin and, like a deer, jump onto his new and very large property. Slowly he lifted the lid. ‘He doesn’t stink yet, but if you don’t take the robe off now it’ll be too late.’
Binu turned and ran, not stopping until she spotted some roadside huts flanked by farmers’ earthen pots, dogs and chickens. She suddenly realized that she had returned to the human world. She turned to look back down the road. Qinsu’s coffin looked like a big, black rock, abandoned there by an unfeeling mountain. On the plain the setting sun shimmered, the last warm rays letting Binu see the outline of a deer. She thought she was seeing things, so she rubbed her eyes and looked again. No mistake. The boy’s figure had disappeared, and a deer now stood on Qinsu’s coffin.
Five-Grain City
Binu had been told she would see Great Swallow Mountain as soon as she crossed the plain and a mountain range came into view. But she had not expected the plain to be so vast that the end seemed unreachable. Along the way, she passed many heavily populated, bustling cities whose names she forgot, but she could never forget Five-Grain City, where the northbound road ended. Prefecture soldiers formed a dark human wall, driving away carts and people, including Binu.
The road was closed because the King was coming to Five-Grain City. Some people were saying that the King and his entourage had already arrived in Pingyang Prefecture, following a canal that was only rumoured to exist. The day the golden-turret boat was finished, the story went, was the day the canal would open for travel. But everyone in Pingyang Prefecture knew that the golden-turret boat, donated jointly by the three southern prefectures, had already arrived in the capital, while the canal, the construction of which was the responsibility of the four northern prefectures, had yet to be built. No one knew who had had the audacity to deceive the King. A painter had once sketched the canal scene on a scroll, seven feet long, all from his imagination. On it, the masts of hundreds of boats rose like a forest, while the scenery along the way was marked by an abundance of people and animals. The King was moved by the enchanting scene, and the word circulating throughout Pingyang Prefecture was that he and his entourage were travelling south with that scroll, towing the golden-turret boat across Pingyang Prefecture in search of the canal.
Outside the gate of Five-Grain City, people were talking about the deceived King, the lovely scroll, and the golden-turret boat, which had been built by the skilful hands of nine hundred craftsmen. It was the most dazzling sight in the King’s procession, or so said the people who lived near the capital. Like a giant dragon among the imperial carriages, it followed the King on his southward journey. Winds blew and clouds gathered wherever it went, leaving a golden aura in its wake.
A child in the crowd shouted out, ‘There’s no canal; that boat will never sail. Heads will roll when the King finds out.’
The people by the gate turned to look at the boy and sighed. ‘If even a child knows what will happen, what is wrong with all those high officials? There’s something fishy here.’
Another boy, hungry for attention, said, ‘Canals don’t have to be aboveground. What makes you think we are worthy of actually seeing the King’s canal? It flows underground, and that’s where the golden-turret boat will sail.’
His wild talk was met with catcalls. But then, someone pointed to his own forehead and, with his eyes and hands, made gestures that hinted at an even more terrifying rumour – that there was something wrong with the King’s head.
‘Don’t be fooled into thinking that just because you pointed to your forehead and said nothing, you have nothing to worry about,’ someone cautioned him. ‘You need to control your tongue and your hands. If a constable saw you, you could lose your head as easily from gesturing as from speaking.’
Binu listened to all the talk about national affairs, not understanding a word of it. But then she noticed that many of the people were looking up at the city gate, and she followed their eyes. ‘What are those objects?’ she asked. ‘Are they melons? Why hang them up so high?’
An old man nearby laughed. ‘Melons? Not the edible kind. Take another look.’
She did, and then she shrieked. She raised her sleeve to cover her eyes but her arm slumped and she fell into the arm
s of the old man, who laid her on the ground. Everyone stared at him.
‘I wonder what village she’s from,’ he said, embarrassed and angry at the same time. ‘A woman of her age, and she’s never seen a human head.’
A kind-hearted woman came over and gently slapped Binu’s face, urging her to open her eyes. ‘There’s no need for someone from a good family to be afraid. Only bandits and assassins are afraid of human heads. Open your eyes and take a good look. Then you’ll never be afraid again. You’re not going to go blind looking at them. Actually, it will do you good, because you’ll be extra careful with what you say and do in the future.’ In her view, the men deserved to die. Some of the other victims, on the other hand, died a wrongful death, losing their lives because they could not control their tongues.
Binu stared in shock and amazement, unconsciously shutting her mouth to hide her tongue until she needed to take a deep breath. ‘Elder Sister,’ she said, ‘are you warning me by all this talk about losing tongues? How could a few words cost someone her tongue? Back in Peach Village we weren’t allowed to shed tears, but after a while we got used to it. But if people cannot gossip, that will turn everyone into voluntary mutes, won’t it?’
‘It all depends on what kind of gossip.’ The woman frowned. ‘What you just said could get you into trouble, talking about voluntary or involuntary mutes. If an official heard you, he might charge you with a crime against the state. In any case, you must control your tongue. Say only what you should say, and not what you shouldn’t.’
Binu noted that when the woman spoke, her lips moved at the speed of light, but she never showed her tongue.
The big brass bell rang out in the gate tower, a sign for people to enter the city. It induced a sense of panic in people’s hearts, but also livened up the indolent crowd. Women called out for their children in shrill voices as the chaotic queue of people ran along beside the base of the wall; apart from the children, no one looked up at the heads hanging on the city wall, as the crowd separated into groups. Not knowing where she belonged, Binu fell in with a group of refugees in tattered clothes. When they reached the gate, they divided again, with the men lining up by a large gate and the women and children by a small one. Binu stood with the women. A soldier came up to look more closely at her nearly-black mourning clothes.