Binu and the Great Wall of China

by Tong,, Su

  ‘Who in your family died? How did your mourning clothes get so filthy?’

  She was about to answer when she recalled the warning to control her tongue, so she merely pointed to the north. Assuming she was newly widowed, the soldier asked her about the deceased.

  ‘How did your husband die? Was he beheaded by the government for robbery, did he die of the plague during the summer, or did he sacrifice his life at a border as a guard?’

  Binu knew that telling the truth would only bring her trouble, but she didn’t know how to lie, so she bit her tongue and kept silent, pointing once more to the north.

  ‘Did your husband die up north? Are you a mute? How did we get another mute?’ He took a good look at Binu’s expression and became suspicious. ‘That’s strange,’ he said. ‘Why are there so many mutes on the road today? Get over to the west side. Everyone who is mute, blind, limp, sick or foreign must be examined at the western gate.’

  The line at the western gate was not long. In front of her stood a candy-seller, dressed in a black robe. From behind, he loomed tall and brawny. He was an unusual sight. Ever since all the young men had been conscripted to work in the north the previous spring, men like this were no longer to be found on the road. They were either working on the Great Wall or working as beasts of burden on the Thousand Year Palace. Binu wondered to herself how this fellow managed to roam the land selling candies, so she stepped out in front to check him out.

  He turned to face her and asked, ‘Big Sister, would you like to buy a candy?’

  Binu found herself being scrutinized by a pair of sharp, bright eyes on the man’s young but tired face; he was calm as a hawk, yet he embodied an indescribable power to terrify. Shaking her head, she backed away. She remembered those eyes; they belonged to the retainer that the carter had met at Bluegrass Ravine. The masked man had been as tall and as brawny as this one, his eyes as icy cold. She also recalled that a musky smell had come from the masked retainer’s black robe. Now a gust of wind blew through the gate, lifting a corner of the man’s robe, and Binu detected the same intriguing smell.

  She opened her mouth, but was once again reminded of the warning from the woman so she covered her mouth with her sleeve and poked at the man with her finger. He turned around again, but this time his eyes were full of disgust.

  ‘Elder Sister, if you don’t want to buy a candy, fine, but please don’t poke me. I can see you’re in mourning, and you ought not to be so familiar.’

  She turned scarlet from embarrassment, but remained convinced that he was the one who had ridden on the oxcart. Why had he come to Five-Grain City to sell candies? ‘I wouldn’t have poked you if I didn’t know you,’ Binu blurted out, unable to control herself, after all. ‘Since you are a Hundred Springs Terrace retainer, why have you come here to sell candies? I poked you because I recognize you.’

  ‘What’s this about? I don’t know you.’

  ‘You don’t know me, but I know you. Big Brother, I have such sharp eyes I can recognize the birds flying over our heads. They fly out one year, and I remember them when they fly back the next. You are going to Great Swallow Mountain too, aren’t you? If not, you would not be passing through Five-Grain City. After walking for days, I’ve finally met someone I know. After the King leaves, let’s travel together and look out for one another.’

  ‘I am not going to Great Swallow Mountain and I cannot look out for you. I am a cripple. You have two legs but I have only one. How can someone with one leg take care of a two-legged person?’ He stared at her coldly, then whipped open his robe and said, ‘Take a look. I have only one leg. Why else would they have me line up at the western gate to enter the city?’

  Filled with doubt, Binu bent down and saw that something was indeed missing under his black robe. He had one good leg and a stump wrapped in cloth. ‘But you had two legs, I’m sure of that. When you came down from the hills at Bluegrass Ravine, you ran faster than a horse.’ Binu grabbed hold of the stump to get a closer look and said, surprise in her voice, ‘It has only been half a month since I left Bluegrass Ravine. How did you manage to lose a leg so quickly?’

  ‘I tell you, I’ve never seen such a flighty woman. A vulgar woman with an obscene hand. How dare you grab hold of a man’s leg!’

  Binu felt something hit her hand; he had swatted her with his candy rack. She looked up to see the icy cold stare replaced by a flame of hatred.

  ‘Control your hand,’ said the man, ‘and watch your tongue. Let me tell you, with things so chaotic in the city, killing a loose woman would be easier than squashing an insect.’

  The people who were already inside the gate turned to examine Binu with penetrating stares.

  ‘No matter how hard life is,’ a female beggar said haughtily, ‘a woman should not forsake her chastity. Look at her, she has yet to shed her mourning clothes and already she is seducing a man.’

  A couple who looked like mutes gave Binu filthy looks and gestured angrily, ‘What a loose woman. Even a bitch in heat knows to pick her place. But not her.’

  The humiliation brought tears to Binu’s eyes. What kind of woman did they think she was? The unanimous evil eye from the crowd frightened her, and now she regretted ignoring the warning of the woman. She should not have opened her mouth so readily in Five-Grain City. It had taken only three comments for them to turn her into a loose woman. Embarrassed and enraged, she felt like following the Peach Village custom of spitting three times at these people, but lacked the courage. So she resigned herself to raising her sleeve to cover her mouth and slinking away into the crowd.

  The tower bell had stopped ringing, causing people who wanted to enter the city to make a frenzied surge towards the gate. Still feeling the effects of humiliation, Binu watched their backs and followed behind them, keeping her distance from the mysterious cripple. Over the heads and shoulders of people separating them, she saw the candy rack and the little candied figures swaying happily in mid air. The colourful candied figures – fairies, deities, ghosts and cherubs – sent frozen smiles to Binu.

  The sour stench of human bodies and their clothes and luggage permeated the air. Someone coughed and spat up a gob of phlegm. It was a consumptive standing unsteadily behind Binu; clearly influenced by public opinion, he had decided that she was a loose woman. So, after a violent coughing fit, he reached under her robe. At first she didn’t scream, but merely slapped his hand away and moved forward after tightening her robe. But he pressed forward, a stick-thin, bony hand and a soft, secretive organ coming together to attach themselves to her buttocks. This time she screamed; her lips moved a few times and tears began to flow. She covered her eyes with her sleeve.

  Stumbling and struggling to break free, Binu reached out and touched many people’s faces. Wanting to avoid being injured, they stepped back and made way for her. And so, like a wheel, Binu rolled over next to the man selling candied figures. He stood up when he saw Binu heading straight for him. An agile jump on his one leg took him easily out of her way. Tears were already pouring down her face when she hit the ground. The crowd saw her point at the consumptive man; her lips were moving but nothing came out. All they heard were fragile, baby-like sobs.

  ‘Where did this woman come from?’ someone commented, after analysing the crying. ‘A grown woman should not cry like a baby.’

  Another woman, moved by what she saw, approached her out of compassion and touched her. ‘Don’t cry,’ she said. ‘You mustn’t cry once you’ve entered the gate. It’s a Five-Grain City rule, has been for a hundred years.’

  Binu flicked away all the hands reaching out to her and stubbornly sat on the ground and cried, her tears flying in all directions.

  People who were trying to pull her to her feet jumped back, shielding their faces with their hands. ‘Where did this woman come from: water? She cries like rain; my clothes are all wet.’

  Binu’s wails drew the attention of gate guards, who ran over, shouting, ‘Who’s crying? Who’s crying at the gate? Have you had enough of liv
ing?’

  People frantically moved away from Binu and pointed. ‘Do something with this woman. A little mistreatment and she cries like rain.’

  The guards noticed her mourning clothes and saw that the hem of her robe was already submerged in a puddle of water. They yanked her to her feet. ‘Why have you come here to cry instead of going to the graveyard? Even a three-year-old knows that there are no tears allowed inside the Five-Grain City gate. The punishment is death. A grown woman ought to know that.’

  ‘She’s just begging to die,’ exclaimed the consumptive, who had threaded his way back through the crowd. ‘Her tears have ruined Five-Grain City’s excellent feng shui and for that she should lose her head.’

  People stared sombrely at the guards, waiting for something to happen. The guards whispered among themselves for a moment before sending over a young guard with a spear. The crowd’s gaze fell on the shiny tip of the spear as he circled her. ‘They’re going to behead her right here. She’s going to lose her head.’

  But someone who knew a bit about beheading was quietly critical of the guard’s weapon. ‘A spear? That won’t do it. They need to use an executioner’s blade.’

  In a trembling voice, a woman warned her child, ‘Be good. Don’t get too close, or your clothes will be splattered with blood.’

  Little by little, doubts were voiced in the crowd. ‘This doesn’t look like a beheading. Maybe they won’t do it. No, they’re won’t, they’re not going to behead her.’

  The young guard’s next move came as a surprise; he simply lifted the sleeve covering Binu’s face with the tip of his spear and studied her tearful face. ‘Cry, go ahead and cry. We’ll let you have a good cry.’ It was impossible to tell if he was playing with her or truly urging her to cry. The crowd saw him touch her face with his index finger, then stare at it and shout, ‘Hey, look at this teardrop, it’s as big as a pearl. It can stand alone on my finger.’

  ‘Looking at it isn’t enough,’ said the other guards. ‘If it doesn’t taste right, it doesn’t matter how big it is. Go on, see how it tastes.’

  The young guard chased away a few adventurous children before warily turning around to put the tear-dipped finger in his mouth. All eyes were on him.

  ‘He’s putting tears in his mouth!’ one of the surprised onlookers shouted. ‘What in the world is he doing? Are her tears some sort of delicacy?’

  The young guard was focused on tasting the tear; suddenly his nervous tongue stopped working and his knitted brows smoothed out, as an excited light shone brightly in his eyes. ‘A very good tear,’ he shouted ecstatically. ‘A great tear. Not too salty, a trace of sweetness, a bit tart, slightly bitter, also somewhat spicy. It must be the finest tear in all of Five-Grain City.’

  The other guards jumped for joy. One of them walked up and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Well done,’ he complimented the young guard. ‘You didn’t waste the time you spent in the pharmacy. Thanks to your tongue we have found the best tears in Five-Grain City.’

  The guards at Five-Grain City were satisfied in the knowledge that they would be rewarded for something they had not done. The crowd had no idea what was happening. A rare beheading, the answer to their prayers, was about to be played out when, inexplicably, it was over and nothing had been done. With disappointment showing on their faces, the mystified people bombarded the guards with questions.

  ‘What happened? Why did you spare the woman? Is this some sort of memorial day for the King? Is he going to pardon everyone?’

  Unable to reveal details, the guards hinted that the woman was not destined to die. That answer did not appease the crowd.

  ‘Why was she spared? On what grounds?’

  The guards, growing impatient, shouted, ‘On the grounds that her teardrops are big, on the grounds that her tears have five different flavours. Haven’t you heard that the tear soup in Master Zhan’s medicinal cauldron is drying up? It’s not worth getting excited about. Do we detect a hint of jealousy?’

  Under the surprised watch of the crowd, Binu left a silvery trail of tears as she was carried through the gate by the guards. People standing at the front saw them deposit her by a pile of firewood, next to a wheelbarrow.

  The refugees by the city gate watched as Binu and the firewood were arranged three times before she had a secure seat on the wheelbarrow. Only her face and a shoulder protruded from the pile. She cried, looking up at the sky, while her body was swallowed up by the firewood. Her tears fell on the kindling like rain, causing some concern that it might not burn. The wheelbarrow was long gone before the people learned that she had not been taken to be used as firewood, that not only had she evaded a calamity, but she was actually being taken to the Zhan Mansion to work. To do what? To cry: to be a weeper. It turned out that the Zhan Mansion was in urgent need of human tears to brew medicine. No one in the crowd could believe their ears, which was only to be expected. A medicine pedlar who had close dealings with the Zhan Food and Medicine Section revealed to the crowd that the dark shadow of illness had settled over the mansion.

  Prefect Zhan had sent for a one-time Longevity Palace doctor who had retired to the Pine Forest Temple. Believing that a malignant aura dominated the mansion, the doctor stressed the importance of supplementing and correcting the aura and gave them a prescription whose only special ingredient was tears that contained the five human tastes: bitter, salty, sweet, sour and spicy. Prefect Zhan thought that the doctor was playing with him, but he did not dare contradict him, given the man’s high status and excellent reputation, as well as the many difficult and unusual illnesses he had cured for three kings. Prefect Zhan was the most powerful person in Five-Grain City, but all his power and money could not buy as many tears as he needed. He laid down the law to all the officers and soldiers in the city, so that they swore that they would find the saddest woman in Five-Grain city and present him with the largest, best-tasting teardrops of all.

  Fortune had smiled on them this day, for they had discovered Binu’s tears. Not completely won over, the refugees discussed among themselves the medicinal value of tears. Some wetted their fingers with one of their own teardrops and chased after the young solider who had tasted Binu’s tear. But their self-promotions were all rejected. Once the wheelbarrow was on its way, a line of flags was raised high above the guard tower, sending a message to all four city watchtowers. An old man at the city gate, who had been a standard bearer in his youth, read the signal for everyone: ‘Found the saddest woman. The largest and best tears are on their way to the Zhan Mansion.’

  Tear Brew

  The servants in the Kindling Section made Binu take off her mourning clothes before entering the Zhan Mansion. Slowly she removed her robe, which she held in her arms in the firewood shed as she wept.

  A servant came over and said to her, ‘Don’t cry yet. We don’t have a tear vat, and you’re wasting your tears by letting them fall on the firewood.’

  They snatched away the robe and threw it on the firewood, but when they saw her tearful eyes fixed on it, they said, ‘Are you afraid we’ll take your robe from you? When they hold a funeral in the Zhan Mansion, even the stone lions wear white robes made of soft brocade. Don’t condemn us just because we work in the firewood shed.’

  Binu continued to stare silently at the robe, inviting a scornful look from the servants, one of whom picked it up with a long stick and put it on the highest pile of wood. ‘You don’t want to part with it, is that it? Very well then, we won’t burn it. We’ll keep it for you for after you finish crying.’

  An old man with a long beard came for Binu. Following a strong aromatic scent, he led her to a dark room where the medicine was brewed. A liquid boiling in the cauldron suffused the steamy room with a pungent odour. A cauldron worker tended the fire with great concentration, while another chopped herbs at a table and yet another stirred the mixture in the cauldron. In a corner of the room women and children – boys and girls – sat in the dark, crying into vats that they held in their hands.

&nbs
p; ‘We have a new weeper,’ the old servant said to someone in the dark corner. ‘Bring her the biggest vat.’

  A thick-set woman emerged from the darkness with a vat that was about half her height. ‘I hear that your tears are large and very fine,’ she said to Binu. ‘I’d like to see just how large and how fine.’

  The other weeping people had also heard that the newcomer had exceptional tears, so, from time to time, they looked up from their vats to appraise Binu, their eyes filled with suspicion and animosity. The servant who was chopping herbs came over and politely gave her instructions: ‘Take your time and aim at the vat. Stop to rest every once in a while,’ he said. ‘No need to cry your heart out. That does no one any good. All we want are your tears. Let me know when you have filled half a vat. We must taste them before adding them to the cauldron.’

  Binu sat down with the vat in her arms and watched the other weeping people cry into the vats with great precision. Their eyes were dripping like house eaves after rain, and the room was like a strange teardrop workshop. Binu looked around blankly, knowing it was time to start crying, and thinking that Qiliang’s winter clothes were still nowhere to be found. Consumed by worry, she was unable to cry.

  ‘My tears are sweet,’ remarked a boy who had abruptly stopped crying and was glaring at Binu. ‘What do yours taste like? You adults may have lots of tears but they are bitter, or sour, or salty. You can’t shed sweet tears.’

  Before Binu could reply, a woman sitting nearby said, her voice dripping with envy, ‘She can shed the best tears in Five-Grain City. Sweet tears mean nothing. She sheds five-flavour tears. I wonder how big a reward she’ll get.’