by Xinran
That night, Uncle Two went over his life as if he were standing in front of the gates of Hell. Even if he escaped this nightmare, he would never be able to hold his head high again. It had taken him years to achieve the respect of his fellow villagers. Although during the first decade of his life he had given his parents great joy merely by being a boy, after that no one would respect him unless he proved himself a man. It had not been easy. People considered him a ‘weak seed’ because he had no sons. He had carried his unhappiness around with him, unable to find a solution to his problems, like a teapot without a spout. Eventually, he had carved out a living by leaving his home and labouring with the sweat of his brow, but this incident in prison was going to send him right back down to the bottom of the heap. Even if by some miracle he got home, wouldn’t the people in the village revile him? Nobody would believe he’d been falsely accused. In the eyes of the villagers, the police had a god-given authority. He remembered how the older generation had revered Chairman Mao. To them, he knew everything there was to know: Chairman Mao could build a house, turn a seam, hang a dog, or dry sweet potatoes in the most economical way. Well, the police were like Chairman Mao to the current generation: never wrong. There was no getting round it, he was done for. As his wife said, the tongues of the people in the village could chew a person to death!
As fish-belly white leached into the sky, and a shaft of weak sunshine came into the room where Uncle Two was incarcerated, he heard a groan beside him.
‘This is the season for executions …’
Uncle Two’s blood froze. ‘What are you saying, Brother?’
‘I’m saying,’ said the low voice, ‘that a lot of us here are going to be a New Year gift for Yama, king of the dead.’
Uncle Two shivered. He remembered stories about the ghosts of wrongly accused men who had died unjust deaths. When, next year, the Ghost Festival came on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, would he too be one of those wronged ghosts? He would never see his wife and daughters again! Or his friends from the village! Or his brothers … Suddenly Uncle Two realised just what the muddy lanes and fields of his tiny village meant to him: the tender green shoots of spring, the scents of summer, the gold of autumn and the lazy pleasures of winter … He recalled how even villagers who had made trouble for him, occasionally showed him kindness – like his sister-in-law who, though she cursed him endlessly, had also once given him two bulls’ penises to ‘strengthen his yang energy’. Nobody was really that bad … ‘If I get out of this alive,’ thought Uncle Two to himself, ‘I’ll never get angry again. No matter how much people shout at me, I won’t mind. Anger and laughter are part of being alive! Is anything more important than living? Let me live …’
Uncle Two prayed to all the gods he could think of, from the Christian Jesus and Virgin Mary to the Bodhisattvas, Guanyin and the Tibetan Master of Zangmi. He even prayed to Chairman Mao, Jiang Zemin and that new leader, Hu Jintao, saying their names over and over again. But when the iron door finally opened, and a figure in a peaked cap stood tall before him in the bright light, the gods that had sustained Uncle Two’s courage disappeared without a trace, leaving behind nothing but his heart, which was pounding so hard he thought it would jump out of his mouth.
The policeman read out a list of names and told those to whom they belonged to go and stand by the door. When he read out the name ‘Li Zhongjia’, no one answered.
‘Li Zhongjia? Aren’t you Li Zhongjia?’ the policeman asked, coming up to Uncle Two.
Uncle Two saw the gates of Hell before him. ‘I … I don’t want to die!’ he whispered, his face deathly white and his teeth chattering.
‘Go and stand outside,’ said the policeman in a neutral tone. ‘In a short while we’ll let you go home.’
When he heard the words ‘go home’, Uncle Two thought of films he had seen where the bad guys said, ‘I’ll see you home’ and then murdered their victim. He flung himself at the policeman’s feet. ‘Kind sir, I implore you … I haven’t stolen anything …’
‘Hey, what are you doing?’ said the policeman stepping back. ‘Stand up. We’re sending you back home, what more do you want? Your family’s come to fetch you. Get along with you, outside!’
It wasn’t until Uncle Two saw Six waiting for him that he realised he had left the gates of Hell far behind him.
Guan Buyu, Shu Tian and Six listened to Uncle Two’s sobs and tried to imagine what he was thinking. It seemed strange that he should cry when he’d been released. Surely he should be happy? Shu Tian and Guan Buyu had only ever heard sinister stories about the police, so they were relieved that he bore no visible traces of ill-treatment; Six thought him a bit weak for weeping over a short night in prison. None of them had any inkling of what this honest country man had endured, or the sleepless nights he would continue to suffer for months to come.
The red Xiali followed the black Mercedes through the gates of a high-class European-style housing development near the Sun Yatsen Mausoleum, and up the driveway of a big villa. The two cars parked and Manager Shui led them all to his front door.
‘Well, Brother,’ he said, turning to Guan Buyu as he got out his key, ‘where were you yesterday when this poor peasant was getting such a scare? People say that the police are better these days, and don’t get their kicks the way they used to – from arresting anyone who steps even a centimetre out of line – it’s still pretty frightening to be up in front of a cop, even for us city dwellers. Who knows if they really understand the laws they are supposed to enforce …’
‘Tell me about it!’ said Guan Buyu with a sigh. ‘My ex-wife is threatening to use the new laws about women’s rights to stir up trouble for me. Three years ago, when we divorced, her share of the property was much bigger than mine, but still she treats me like a bank! I don’t know, marriage is like getting onto a pirate ship: once you’re aboard there’s no way back. And these divorce laws are never ending. Yesterday she was after me for money to buy an air conditioner. I had to go into hiding …’
Guan Buyu continued talking as he followed Manager Shui into the house. ‘How lucky you are to be free and single. When you eat, the whole family’s fed. Plus you live in a mansion. Do you plan to stay single all your life? … Come in all of you,’ he said, turning to the three sisters and their uncle. ‘Welcome to Manager Shui’s Palace!’
Three, Five and Six gazed in awe at the glorious spectacle that greeted them. They were standing in a huge reception room decorated in the European style, with a sumptuously upholstered purple and gold five-piece suite occupying pride of place in the centre. Against the walls were numerous tables, desks, cabinets and shelves all displaying a host of interesting ornaments: there were carved wooden animals, antique curios and a selection of artfully arranged house plants. At the windows hung opulent red and gold velvet curtains, and from the ceiling five magnificent crystal chandeliers glinted with light and colour. Scottish wool rugs, woven with designs of knights and bagpipers lay on the floor, while the corridor leading to the dining room and bedrooms allowed glimpses of elaborately carved chairs and gorgeous silk bedspreads.
Guan Buyu and Shu Tian propelled the three gaping girls to the sofa on which Uncle Two had already taken a seat.
‘Please, sit down,’ said Manager Shui. ‘I’ve got some pre-prepared food in the fridge and I think we should all have a bit to eat before Guan Buyu and I go to our meetings.’ He went off into the kitchen, stomach swaying, and the sisters soon heard the hum of a microwave oven, and detected the delicious smell of fermented tofu and pork – a southern favourite. ‘Here we go,’ said Manager Shui coming back with a tray. ‘One bowl each. We know each other well enough to take pot-luck so don’t worry about which one to choose. There’s a city saying that the best way to get out of a bad place is to go through a “good door” – or in other words, “find yourself a protector”. Let me be your door … Now, hurry. Eat.’
Uncle Two held the bowl of food in his hands and looked at his three nieces. He felt overwhelmed by
conflicting emotions. If he hadn’t been worried about them, he wouldn’t have taken his trip to Hell, and yet here they all were, safe and sound, and enjoying a meal in beautiful surroundings. How was it possible to travel from Hell to Heaven in the space of a single day?
‘Eat Uncle Two,’ said Three gently, ‘otherwise we’ll all worry about you.’
As the meal drew to a close, they discussed what Uncle Two should do next.
‘I think I’d better go home at once,’ said Uncle Two, who was gazing into the distance, an unreadable expression in his eyes.
Guan Buyu thought for a while then made a suggestion. ‘How about I send someone to the Happy Fool with Three and Uncle Two to explain everything to my sister-in-law and ask permission for Three to go home for Spring Festival today with Uncle Two. As for Five, I think she should stay on until after the Kitchen God Festival. Manager Shui tells me she’s one of his most valued workers, so he’ll need her during the busy period before the Festival. Ah, Six, I can see your clever brain trying to work out how city people can have a festival when they don’t have a Kitchen God. Well, stay for the festival and you’ll see. Every family has a fire for cooking. We pay our respects to that fire and that counts as worshipping the Kitchen God.’
‘Thank you, kind sir. That will reassure their parents,’ said Uncle Two, overwhelmed with relief that one of the sisters would be able to return with him. Not only was he afraid of losing his nieces again, but he felt in need of company after his experiences of the previous night. Even now he was finding it difficult to know whether he was awake or dreaming.
‘I should’ve thought of it before,’ said Guan Buyu. ‘Without computers and telephones in your village, and with most people unable to read letters, you rely on word of mouth for news of each other. But I guess that, even then, it’s hard for the girls’ parents to believe they are well without actually seeing them. If you hadn’t seen them with your own eyes, I doubt you’d believe us either, right?’ Guan Buyu’s eyes lit up as he had an idea. ‘Shu Tian, didn’t you say you had a digital camera in your car? When you deliver the girls to their workplaces, take some photographs so that Uncle Two can take them back to the village. There’s still time if you hurry. The bus doesn’t leave for four hours.’ He took a red envelope from his inside pocket and placed it in Uncle Two’s hand. ‘Take this too. It’s a little something from me to their mother.’
‘You Nanjingers are much kinder than the people down south,’ said Uncle Two gratefully. ‘You think of everything.’
As they were getting ready to part and both cars were starting up, Manager Shui stuck his head out of his window to ask Guan Buyu whom he had contacted at the police station to get Uncle Two out. ‘You never told me! Was it Deputy Head Han or Officer Huang?’
‘Neither,’ shouted Guan Buyu over the roar of the Xiali’s engine. ‘A document came through today saying that the law against vagrancy has been abolished. Apparently, from now on, country people won’t need papers from their local government when they go away from home. Uncle Two’s a lucky man!’
‘He sure is,’ said Manager Shui in amazement. ‘I can’t believe they’ve finally scrapped restrictions on movement!’
‘So it would seem,’ said Shu Tian. ‘Some of the older policemen at the station were saying that, what with the discontinuation of the laws against cohabitation as well, they might have to lay off staff, and the prisons will be a lot emptier!’
‘That’s a bloody Cultural Revolution!’ exclaimed Manager Shui. ‘Great stuff! They should have taken this step ages ago. If the population doesn’t move around, information can’t either and society stays static. Well, gotta go. See you soon!’
‘I’d better go too,’ said Guan Buyu to Shu Tian. ‘My ex-wife has someone tailing me, taking down number plates. Don’t worry, I’ll get a taxi. I don’t want to drag you into this. You take the girls back by yourself.’ And, with this, he was gone, leaving the three sisters and their uncle sitting in the back of Shu Tian’s car feeling as if they had just been caught up in a whirlwind.
12
Homecoming
For days after Uncle Two returned home for Spring Festival, the inhabitants of the village could talk of nothing but how changed he was. Instead of his usual, put-upon expression, he wore a constant smile on his face and was full of affection towards everyone and everything. He hugged and kissed all the snotty-nosed children playing in the mud and even stroked the family pig after it had spent the day wallowing in the cesspit. As for his family … his daughters and wife had never known him to laugh so much, or make such a fuss of them. He picked out choice morsels of food to put into his children’s bowls and bewildered his wife by revealing a passion she hadn’t known he possessed.
In fact Auntie Two was so concerned about what might have happened to her husband that she went to talk privately to Three, who answered as her uncle had instructed her: ‘Uncle Two had a terrible dream about visiting the underworld that changed him. He has decided he wants to live well from now on, otherwise he will have lost his soul for nothing.’
The villagers were also extremely impressed by the photographs that Uncle Two had brought back from the city. A constant flow of curious visitors had the Li household in a state of continual uproar late into the night. Li Zhongguo grumbled from time to time about the waste of good lamp oil, but even he couldn’t stop looking at the picture of a gorgeously illuminated dragon’s mouth with Five standing smiling in front of it, her face glowing with health and vigour. Who would have believed that his stupidest, ugliest daughter could have become so capable! Three saw her father admiring the photograph of Five and thought to herself that it had been worth almost missing the bus in order to take it. They had waited until it was dark so that they could get a photograph of the Dragon Water-Culture Centre in its full glory.
However, there was one person who wasn’t happy. Three’s mother had noticed a change in her daughter and was worried. No matter how much the villagers showered Three with admiration, her motherly intuition could sense that there was something seriously wrong. Although she did not know who or what had stolen her daughter’s spirit away, her thoughts turned instinctively to the secret and bitter agony she herself had once suffered, without ever telling a soul. As a girl she had fallen desperately in love with a young man in her village. They had grown up side by side, calling each other brother and sister, and it had never occurred to her that she would lose him. Only when this young man had excitedly told his ‘little sister’ that he was getting a wife, did she awake with a shock to the realisation that she was not the bride of his dreams. There was no one in whom she could confide, and no one to pity her. It was the firm belief of those around her that it was a man’s world, and only a man could select his partner for life. A peasant girl’s desires would be mocked as a mere infatuation. They might even think she was not ‘right in the head’.
Only she would know how many times she had soaked her quilt with tears, how many stars she had counted, how many insoles she had embroidered for him in secret, then secretly torn to pieces. It was not until her parents married her off to the Li family’s eldest son in exchange for a wife for one of her brothers that she understood it was her fate to live a life that so many millions of other women had not been able to avoid, regardless of their wishes.
Yet, although Three’s mother suspected what was destroying her daughter, it didn’t occur to her to talk to Three about it. She had never been to school and therefore her only example in life had been her own mother. Since her mother had never expressed a wish to know about her daughter’s joys or sorrows, but had simply taught her what men considered to be bad or good in a woman, Three’s mother had no idea how to share her daughter’s pain. Never in her life had she seen or heard of a mother and daughter who could open their hearts to each other and talk freely. Instead she watched helplessly as Three became thinner and thinner, and worried also for the safety of her other daughters. If this was what the city had done to Three, were Five and Six truly as happ
y as in the photographs? And why hadn’t they come home for the Kitchen God sacrifices? Although Three reassured her mother that her sisters were well, how could Three know? She worked in a different place to them, and didn’t see them often … Three’s mother, who had never even been to the local town, had no idea how easily information was exchanged in the city. For her, communication could only take place if you met someone face to face. She lived a mere twenty or thirty miles from the village where she grew up, but, since her marriage, the only news she had received from her birthplace came from travellers or visiting relatives.
It was not until Five and Six arrived home, two days before the start of the Spring Festival celebrations that their mother began to smile a little. Though Three continued to look sad and wan, her two other daughters were so smartly dressed and cheerful that she could see for herself that all was well with them. For the first time ever, the Li family home was filled with the sound of happy conversation and laughter. Five and Six told stories of city life and all the village girls, wives, and their mothers-in-law gathered at the house to listen to them, too excited to blink, looking over and over again at the photographs of city streets and smiling city people. The older generation saw things there that they could never have imagined in a million years.
Before their New Year’s Eve dinner, Three, Five and Six wrapped up the gifts they had brought for their family in newspaper. They had agreed that they would put everything in a big parcel and give it to their mother to open, so that she could know how much her chopstick girls loved her, and how they understood what she had endured during her hard and difficult life. But when they handed her the gift, their mother immediately passed it respectfully to their father, the head of the family.
‘You open it,’ said Li Zhongguo quietly. ‘The girls gave it to you.’
‘To me?’ said their mother in bewilderment. In over twenty years of marriage, she had never heard her husband say that anything in the house belonged to her.
