by Yan Lianke
The Elder’s body exploded in terror, as he realized he had fallen into a trap. He thought, If only I hadn’t taken that bath. He thought, If only I hadn’t sat down by the side of the pool to rest. He thought, If only I had hurried, I would be up on the ridge by now, and the wolves would have had to go away empty-handed. He nevertheless remained calm. He carefully placed his buckets on the ground and slowly unlatched the carrying pole, then, still holding the pole, headed straight toward the pack of wolves as though he hadn’t even seen them. He walked deliberately, and the carrying pole’s hooks swung rhythmically back and forth. The wolves approached him, but he continued walking in their direction. The twenty-odd paces that separated them were cut to a dozen, but the Elder calmly continued forward as though he intended to march right into the wolf pack.
The wolves were disconcerted by the Elder’s calmness, and they stood motionless in the opening of the gully.
The Elder continued walking straight ahead.
The two wolves at the front of the pack took a couple of steps backward, and as they did so the Elder regained a bit of confidence. He began walking quickly and vigorously, his footsteps so loud that the sound knocked some sand and pebbles down from the side of the cliff. The wolves stared at him, as the Elder proceeded to a part of the gully that was narrow like the opening of a bottle, where he squinted up at the cliff walls on either side. He selected this narrow area to make his stand. He knew the wolves would not be able to come through here, and neither would they be able to circle around and surround him.
The Elder and the wolves faced one another.
The Elder thought, I just need to stand here and make sure I don’t topple over. If I manage this, I may be able to survive long enough to make it out alive. The sun’s final rays disappeared and as night fell, the color of the gully became identical to that of the wolves’ fur. In the quiet dusk, a tiny sound began to rise from the bottom of the gully. The Elder counted nine wolves in all, including three large ones, four that were about the same size as the blind dog, and two that appeared to be cubs.
The Elder stood as motionless as a tree.
The wolves’ glittering green eyes appeared to be suspended in midair. The deathly silence pressed down on the Elder and the pack of wolves like the darkening mountain ridge. The Elder didn’t move, nor did he make a sound. Upon realizing that the reason the Elder had been walking so quickly was to block this portion of the gully, one of the wolves began to howl, and the entire pack began advancing toward him.
The Elder planted his carrying pole in the ground in front of him.
The wolves came to a stop.
The Elder and the wolves were about seven or eight paces from one another. In the final rays of the setting sun, the Elder saw one of the three old wolves standing in the middle of the pack. Its left ear had a large chunk bitten out of it, and its leg appeared crippled. The Elder stared at the old wolf, and the two of them faced each other, until finally the wolf began to howl, at which point the entire pack once again began to advance toward the Elder, as the lead wolf fell to the back of the pack. When the wolves were still five or six paces away, the Elder waved his pole. His grip tightened as he aimed for the middle of the pack—directly at the old wolf’s head.
The wolves suddenly came to a halt.
The Elder stared at the lead wolf, as the sun’s dying rays swept over the pack. He noticed that the brightest eyes belonged not to the three older wolves, nor to the four midsize ones, but rather to the two cubs. Their gazes were piercingly bright, resembling a layer of water under the sunlight—though beneath this sunlit water there was a layer of fear and confusion. The other wolves kept turning around to look at the lead wolf, who produced a series of bright roars that only they could understand. The setting sun’s final rays disappeared, as a sheet of darkness fell over the wolves. In the dark, the wolves’ eyes shimmered like light in a blue pond. A foul odor surged through the opening of the gully. This stench was different from the sticky rat stench, in that it was smoother but also extremely clear. It occurred to the Elder that the cornstalk’s dry spots probably already covered the entirety of each leaf, and might even have spread to the plant’s stem. He reflected, As long as the dry spots don’t reach the center of the stalk and the top remains green, the plant can still be saved. As the Elder was thinking this, he again heard the lead wolf’s piercing howl. His body began to tremble, and he vigorously blinked his eyes. He said to himself, Apart from this pack of wolves, you mustn’t think about anything else. If you keep getting distracted, you will surely die. Fortunately, the wolves hadn’t noticed that the Elder’s attention had strayed. As the wolves were about to advance following the lead wolf’s howl, the Elder waved his carrying pole. The pole struck the sides of the gully, and as the cold sound wafted over, the wolves began to retreat.
A deadlock hung over the Elder and the wolves like a suspension bridge, and each time they blinked it would sway back and forth in a terrifying manner. The Elder could not see where exactly the wolves’ bodies were, so instead he stared at the wolves’ green eyes, and each time the eyes moved, he would swing his pole and force them to retreat. Time was like a silent ox pulling a cart, slowly crushing the Elder’s will. The moon emerged, and was as round as the wolves’ eyes. The Elder felt as though an earthworm were crawling down his back. He knew that his back was covered in sweat, and felt the aching in his legs penetrate his body like daggers. His energy was sapped more by the current deadlock than by his previous exertions. He hoped that the wolves would grow tired of standing there and instead would lie down, or at least move around a bit. Instead, they continued standing motionless in a semicircle five or six paces from the Elder, staring at him intently, like weathered rocks. The Elder could even hear the soft creaking sound of their eyes shifting back and forth, and could see that the fur on their backs had a tint of fire as it rustled in the breeze. The Elder wondered, Can I outlast them? He told himself, You must outlast them, even if it kills you! The Elder thought, Each of them has four legs, but you only have two, and furthermore are an old man in your seventies. The Elder said, My God, night has only just fallen, yet your body is already so cramped up. Surely you don’t want to deliver yourself into the wolves’ jaws! One of the cubs couldn’t stand still any longer, and when the lead wolf wasn’t looking, it lay down, after which the other cub lay down as well. The lead wolf looked at the two cubs, and emitted a purplish-red roar. The cubs bowed their heads and made yelps like blades of green grass. Then, the pack fell silent. The weariness began with the cubs, but after they lay down the Elder seemed to become infected by their exhaustion, and his own legs turned to rubber. He wanted to move, but in the end he merely tensed his tendons and shifted his knee caps, then stood straight again. He couldn’t afford to let the older wolves see that he could barely remain upright. He thought, If you reveal just a bit of exhaustion, they will immediately attack. If you can manage to stand here without moving a muscle, you may live, but if you start to sway, you’ll surely die. The moon, partially occluded by clouds, moved across the sky from east to west. He smelled the clouds’ parched scent, and realized that the next day there would again be clear skies. If he were to weigh the sunlight on the mountain top, it would weigh at least five or six qian. The Elder glanced up, and saw that there was a dense cloud in front of the moon, and he thought, Once the moon reaches the cloud, the cloud’s shadow will pass over the gully. Like a sturdy tree, he waited until the shadow passed overhead, and as soon as it covered him like a silk sheet, he took the opportunity to quietly stretch both legs in succession. He instantly felt the qi passages in his legs and his upper body connect, as a burst of vital energy surged to his knees. He straightened his body, and the carrying pole hooks produced a sound like that of wet paper ripping. At that instant, the same shadow passed over the wolf pack, and the Elder saw the mass of green eyes move toward him like a swarm of fireflies. He roared, and furiously swung the carrying pole hooks against the sides of the cliff. Rocks and sand fell to the ground
beside his feet, like water cascading down. He waited for the sound to subside, as clouds drifted past the opening of the gully. He saw that five of the wolves were now standing only four or five paces from him. Fortunately, he had been able to stretch as the cloud’s shadow was passing overhead, and consequently he was now able to make a loud movement, halting the wolves’ advance and permitting the stalemate to continue deep into the night.
He thought, I’m already seventy-two years old, and have endured countless more hardships than you.
He thought, As long as I’m in the opening of this gully, surely they won’t dare come any nearer.
He thought, How can wolves be afraid of a man standing here motionless?
He said to himself, You absolutely mustn’t doze off—because if you do, you’re doomed. Blindy and the cornstalk are both depending on you.
The two cubs lying on the ground both had their eyes closed. The Elder saw that the brightest two pairs of green eyes were extinguished like lanterns. He discretely moved his right hand forward on the pole, and when his right hand reached his left, he pinched his left wrist. He felt the pain surge from his wrist to his eyelids, and his fatigue shuddered as though it had just been seared by a flame. The fatigue dripped from his eyelids into the moonlit gully, and only then did he move his hand back. Another wolf lay down, and its eyelids immediately covered that bright green light. The lead wolf snorted, and the other wolf opened its eyes again.
In the middle of the night, the time began to sound green and luxuriant. Overhead, several stars seemed to be missing and the moonlight had a kind of tragic coolness. The Elder blinked several more times. He discretely raised one foot and used it to step on his other one, and only then did he feel his eyelids begin to soften. Looking at that moon and stars above, he felt he had managed to make it through more than half the night. The second half was already approaching, like a distant bell tolling the hours. At this point, as long as he could manage to keep standing there without a sound, his drowsiness might be transmitted to the wolves themselves.
Like dampness, this drowsiness did in fact begin to overcome both the Elder and the wolves. Three more wolves lay down. The lead wolf snorted again, but couldn’t stop the others, until eventually the lead wolf was the only one left standing. Upon seeing that the original array of green eyes had been reduced to only two, the Elder felt somewhat relieved, and thought to himself, If only the lead wolf would lie down as well. As soon as it does, I’ll be able to quietly stretch my arms and legs. But not only did the final wolf not lie down, it instead came up to the front of the pack. Thinking that the wolf was trying to cut off his only means of retreat, the Elder suddenly found his back covered in cold sweat. He furiously swung his pole, but between swings the wolf came to a halt, stared, then walked in a semicircle in front of him, before finally withdrawing to where the other wolves were lying on the ground. Then, the lead wolf lay down and closed its eyes as well.
All of the green lanterns were now extinguished.
The Elder sighed. His legs felt weak, but just as he was about to collapse his heart began to pound and he stood up straight again. At that instant, he noticed that the lead wolf was peeking through its half-closed eyes, then closed them again. The Elder didn’t sleep, convinced that the lead wolf was simply waiting for him to doze off. He picked up a long vine, removed his belt, and unfastened the carrying pole’s two cords. Then he tied them all together to form a long rope. As he was doing this, the Elder deliberately made a loud racket. He noticed that four wolf eyes were watching him, then they closed again.
This time the wolves had really fallen asleep.
Under the soft white moonlight, the nine sleeping wolves resembled a field of freshly turned earth, and a stench emanated from this uneven ground. The Elder removed his shoes and, holding his breath, tiptoed forward a couple of steps. He tied one end of the rope across the opening of the gully, then took a couple of steps back and tied the other end around his own wrist. Finally, he leaned the carrying pole against the sides of the gully, and closed his eyes.
The Elder went to sleep.
The Elder slept as sweetly as fragrant grass, and time swept through his dreams like a whirlwind. Whenever the Elder felt a tug on his wrist, his dreams would be violently interrupted. He would open his eyes, pick up the carrying pole, and point it at the wolves.
The sky finally began to brighten, and the moon and stars quietly disappeared from sight. In the entrance to the gully there was a layer of dark blue. The Elder blinked, and saw that the wolves had broken the portion of the makeshift rope that he had placed several paces in front of him, though the belt portion of the rope was still blocking their escape. The wolves knew that the sound had woken the Elder, so they stood there uneasily, carefully watching both the Elder and his snakelike red belt. As the Elder gripped the carrying pole, he felt a shooting pain, then pointed one end of the pole at the center of the wolf pack. He saw that there were still five wolves in front, but didn’t know where the other four had gone. The lead wolf was no longer in front of him either. The Elder blanched but continued staring straight ahead, though his heart was pounding loud enough to knock down houses and buildings. He knew that if even one of those four missing wolves managed to sneak up behind him, this night’s deadlock would be shattered and he would die.
The Elder listened intently.
The cold sweat soaked the bottoms of his shoes, and he felt as though he were standing in two pools of cold water. The Elder struggled to determine where the lead wolf could have led those other three midsize wolves. He looked around the opening of the gully and saw a sheen of golden sunlight. He realized that the sun had finally come out. Wolves are nocturnal creatures that cannot tolerate sunlight, and if on that day the sun was as blindingly hot as it had been, these wolves would surely retreat before it reached its full strength. As the Elder was thinking this, he noticed the smell of urine. He was about to see which wolf was the source, when he was distracted by clumps of earth falling on his head from the cliff above.
The Elder and the wolves simultaneously looked up at the top of the cliff, where the Elder saw that the lead wolf was leading a cub toward the entrance of the gully. The Elder then glanced over at the other side of the gully, where he saw another pair of half-grown wolves heading down toward the base of the hill. The old man suddenly realized that while he was sleeping, those four wolves had separated from the main group and proceeded to the top of the cliff, to find a way down to the gully behind him. Unfortunately for the wolves, the gully was too narrow and the cliffs were as steep as walls, and in the end they had no choice but to return in the direction from which they had come. The Elder felt secretly pleased, and his body began to radiate strength like the sun. At this point, the sunlight began to stream into the gully, and up on the cliff the lead wolf howled in frustration. When the five wolves standing in front of the Elder heard this howl, they looked up and examined the Elder and his pole, then turned and headed back toward the entrance of the gully.
The pack retreated.
After maintaining the deadlock for an entire night, the wolf pack finally retreated. As the wolves walked away, they periodically glanced back at the Elder. The Elder was still holding his pole as he watched the wolves retreat. When they reached the entrance, they all turned and stared at him for a moment, then left the gully. Their footsteps gradually faded away, until the sound died out altogether, like autumn leaves falling to the ground. The Elder released his grip and finally dropped the carrying pole. He suddenly felt as though there were bugs crawling up his legs. He looked down, and realized that the urine he had smelled had not been from the wolves, but rather had been his own.
He had been so terrified that he had wet himself without realizing it.
The Elder slapped and cursed the object dangling between his legs, then sat and rested for a while. Seeing that the sunlight was growing brighter, he got up and grabbed the carrying pole, then headed toward the opening of the gully. He found an elevated area, then looked
around to confirm that the wolves had, in fact, left. Only then did he place the carrying pole on his shoulders again and walk out with the two buckets.
After the Elder emerged from the gully, he went toward the mountain ridge to the west. Afraid that the wolves would return and realizing he still had a long way to go, he only rested for a moment before proceeding up the path to the mountains. The undulating path was still reddish brown, and in the sunlight it resembled the backs of a herd of cattle. The Elder placed the buckets of water on the ground and took a breath, then watched the wolves climb a hill in the distance, heading toward the Balou Mountains.
The Elder said, Damn, did they want to fight me? Do they even know who I am? I am the Elder! I don’t care if they are nine wolves—even if they were nine jackals, what would they be able to do to me?
The Elder gazed in the direction where the wolves had disappeared, and shouted, Don’t fucking leave! Stay here with me for another day or two. Then he lowered his voice and added, Yes, go ahead and leave. This spring is mine—it belongs to me, Blindy, and the cornstalk. The Elder remembered the stalk and its dry spots, and shuddered. He leaned over one of the buckets and drank until his belly was swollen with water, and he no longer felt thirsty or hungry. Then he picked up the buckets and proceeded along the mountain road.
By the time he got back to his field, it was already noon. After having spent an entire day and night looking for water and caught in the standoff with the wolves, the Elder felt as though he was now over a hundred. His beard had been thin and sparse, but overnight it seemed to have grown much longer. By the time he reached Baliban Hill, he was about to topple over like a rootless tree. As he was resting by the side of the road, the blind dog came to him. He noticed that the dog’s tongue was cracked, yet its eye sockets were filled with pools of dark water. The dog wept. It had heard the old man’s weak footsteps, had smelled the scent of fresh water, and then had staggered up the ridge toward him. When the dog was a few paces away from the Elder, however, it suddenly collapsed.
