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TWO Sorghum Wine 6

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6

just as grandma was about to climb off her donkey, the village chief, five monkeys shan,stopped her: ‘young mistress, don’t get down. the county magistrate wants to see you.’

grandma was taken to the inlet at the western edge of the village in the custody of two armedsoldiers. great-granddad had such severe leg cramps he couldn’t walk, and it took the nudge of arifle in his back to get him moving; he fell in behind the donkey, his knees knocking.

grandma noticed a black colt tied to the willow tree at the inlet. it was beautifully liveried, itsforehead decorated with a red silk tassel. a few yards away, a man sat behind a table with a teaservice. at the time, grandma didn’t know that he was the illustrious magistrate cao. anotherman stood next to the table, the magistrate’s capable enforcer, master yan, or yan luogu.

rounded-up villagers stood in front of the table, crowded together as though huddling to keepwarm. a squad of twenty soldiers fanned out behind them.

uncle arhat stood behind another table, soaked to the skin.

the bodies of shan tingxiu and his son were laid out beneath the willow, not far from thetethered colt. already beginning to stink, they oozed a foul yellow liquid. above the bodies, aflock of crows hopped around on the branches, making the canopy of foliage come alive.

this was uncle arhat’s chance to get, finally, a clear look at grandma’s full, round face. heralmond-shaped eyes were large, her long neck was like alabaster, her lush hair was rolled up intoa bun at the back of her head. her donkey stopped in front of the table, grandma sitting tall andstraight on its back, the picture of grace. as he watched magistrate cao’s dark, solemn eyessweep across my grandma’s face and breast, a thought flashed into uncle arhat’s mind. the oldmaster and his son came to grief because of this woman. she must have taken a lover, who hadset the fire to ‘lure the tiger out of the mountain’, then had killed father and son to clear the wayfor himself. when the radishes have been picked, the field is bare. now she could carry onhowever she pleased.

but when he looked at grandma, uncle arhat was immediately besieged with doubts. nomatter how a murderer tries to mask it, the look of evil always shows through. this womansitting on her donkey?.?.?. like a beautiful statue carved from wax, gently swinging her dainty,pointed feet, her expression a mixture of solemnity, tranquillity, and grief – unlike a bodhisattva,yet surpassing a bodhisattva. great-granddad stood alongside the donkey in stark contrast: hisage against her youth, his decrepitude against her freshness, all serving to accentuate herradiance.

‘have that woman come forward to answer some questions,’ magistrate cao ordered.

grandma didn’t stir. village chief five monkeys shan shuffled up and shouted angrily,‘climb down from there! his honour the county magistrate has ordered you to dismount!’

magistrate cao raised his hand to call off five monkeys shan, then rose and said genially,‘you there, woman, dismount. i want to ask you some questions.’

great-granddad lifted grandma down off the mule.

‘what is your name?’ magistrate cao asked her.

grandma stood stiffly, her eyelids slightly lowered, and said nothing.

great-granddad answered for her in a quaking voice, ‘your honour, the unworthy girl’s nameis dai fenglian. we call her little nine. she was born on the ninth day of the sixth month –’

‘shut up!’ magistrate cao barked.

‘who said you could talk?’ five monkeys shan castigated great-granddad.

‘damned fools!’ magistrate cao banged his fist on the table, causing five monkeys shan andgreat-granddad to shrink in terror. as a benevolent expression reappeared on the magistrate’sface, he pointed to the bodies beneath the willow tree and asked, ‘you there, woman, do youknow those two men?’

grandma glanced out of the corner of her eye, and her face paled. she shook her head insilence.

‘they are your husband and your father-in-law. they have been murdered!’ magistrate caoshouted.

grandma reeled before collapsing to the ground. the crowd surged forward to help her up, andin the confusion her silver combs were knocked loose, releasing clouds of black hair like a liquidcataract. grandma, her face the colour of gold, sobbed for a moment, then laughed hysterically, atrickle of blood seeping from her lower lip.

magistrate cao banged the table again. ‘listen, everyone, to my verdict. when the womandai, a gentle willow bent by the wind, magnanimous and upright, neither humble nor haughty,heard that her husband had been murdered, she was stricken with overpowering grief, spitting amouthful of blood. how could a good woman like that be an adulteress who plotted the death ofher own husband? village chief five monkeys shan, i can see by your sickly pallor that you arean opium smoker and a gambler. how can you, as village chief, defy the laws of the county?

that is unforgivable, not to mention your tactics to defile someone’s good name, which adds toyour list of crimes. i am not fooled in my judgements. no disciples of evil and disorder can evadethe eyes of the law. it must have been you who murdered shan tingxiu and his son, so you couldget your hands on the shan family fortune and the lovely woman dai. you schemed tomanipulate the local government and deceive me, like someone wielding an axe at the door ofmaster carpenter lu ban, or waving his sword at the door of the swordsman lord guan, orreciting the three character classic at the door of the wise confucius, or whispering the‘rhapsody on the nature of medicine’ in the ear of the physician li shizhen. arrest him!’

soldiers rushed up and tied five monkeys shan’s hands behind his back. ‘i’m not guilty, i’minnocent. your honour, magistrate?.?.?.’ he shrieked.

‘seal his mouth with the sole of your shoe!’

little yan drew out of his waistband a large shoe made just for this purpose and smacked fivemonkeys shan across the mouth three times.

‘it was you who murdered them, wasn’t it?’

‘i’m innocent i’m innocent i’m innocent?.?.?.’

‘if you didn’t do it, who did?’

‘it was?.?.?. oh my, i don’t know, i don’t know.?.?.?.’

‘a few minutes ago you had it all figured out, and now you say you don’t know. use the shoesole again!’

little yan smacked five monkeys shan across the mouth a dozen times, splitting his lips,from which frothy blood began to ooze. ‘i’ll tell,’ he muttered tearfully, ‘i’ll tell.?.?.?.’

‘who’s the murderer?’

‘it?.?.?. it?.?.?. was a bandit, it was spotted neck!’

‘he did it on your orders, didn’t he?’

‘no! it was it was it was?.?.?. oh, master, please don’t hit me?.?.?.’

‘listen to me, everybody,’ nine dreams cao said. ‘since assuming office as head of thecounty, i have worked hard to stamp out opium, outlaw gambling, and annihilate bandits, and ihave had notable success with the first two. only bandits remain a serious problem, runningrampant in northeast gaomi township. the county government has called upon all law-abidingcitizens to report incidents and expose offenders in order to bring peace to the land.

‘since the woman dai was legally wed into the shan family, she may assume its possessionsand wealth. anyone attempting to take advantage of this poor widow, or scheming to deprive herof what is legally hers, will be charged with banditry and disposed of accordingly!’

grandma took three paces forward and knelt before magistrate cao, raising her lovely faceand calling out:

‘father! my true father!’

‘i am not your father,’ magistrate cao corrected her. ‘your father is there, holding thedonkey.’

she crawled forward and wrapped her arms around magistrate cao’s legs. ‘father, my truefather, now that you’re the county magistrate, don’t you know your own daughter? ten years agoyou fled the famine with your little girl and sold her. you may not know me, but i know you.?.?.?.’

‘my goodness! what kind of talk is that? it’s a bunch of nonsense!’

‘father, how’s my mother? little brother must be about thirteen now. is he in school? father,you sold me for two pecks of red sorghum, but i held your hand and wouldn’t let go. you said,‘little nine, when father has turned things around he’ll come back for you.’ but now that you’rethe county magistrate you say you don’t know me.?.?.?.’

‘the woman is mad, she has mistaken me for someone else!’

‘i’m not mistaken! i’m not! father! my true father!’ she held tightly to magistrate cao’s legsand rocked back and forth, glistening tears streaming down her face, the sun glinting off herjadelike teeth.

magistrate cao lifted grandma up and said, ‘i can be your foster-father!’

she tried to fall to her knees again, but was supported under the arms by magistrate cao. shesqueezed his hand and said with childish innocence, ‘father, when will you take me to seemother?’

‘soon, very soon! now, let go, let go of me.?.?.?.’

grandma let go of his hand.

magistrate cao took out a handkerchief to wipe his sweaty brow.

everyone stared at the two of them.

nine dreams cao removed his hat and twirled it on his finger as he stammered to theonlookers, ‘fellow villagers – i have always advocated – stamp out opium – outlaw gambling –annihilate bandits –’

he had barely finished when – pow! pow! pow! – three shots rang out, and three bullets flewover from the sorghum field by the inlet, releasing three puffs of smoke when they hit the brownhat perched atop his middle finger. it sailed into the air, as though in the grip of a demon, andlanded in the dirt, still twirling.

the gunshots were met by gasps and whistles from the crowd. ‘it’s spotted neck!’ someoneshouted.

‘three-nod phoenix!’

‘quiet down! quiet down!’ magistrate cao shouted from his refuge under the table.

the people, crying for their parents, scattered like wild animals.

little yan quickly untied the black colt from the willow tree, dragged magistrate cao out fromunder the table, helped him onto the horse, and swatted it on the rump. the colt, its manestanding straight up, its tail bristling, ran like the wind with the county magistrate in the saddle,while the soldiers fired a few random shots towards the sorghum field before making themselvesscarce.

the banks of the inlet grew strangely quiet.

grandma rested her hand sombrely on the donkey’s head and stared towards the sorghum field.

great-granddad had thrown himself under the donkey and covered his ears with his hands.

steam rose from the clothes of uncle arhat, who hadn’t moved.

the water in the inlet was smooth as ever; the floating white lilies had spread open, their petalslike ivory. the village chief, five monkeys shan, whose face was bruised and swollen by theshoe sole, shrieked ‘spare me, spotted neck! spare me!’

his shrieks were answered by three more rapid gunshots, and grandma saw the bullets strikehis head. three tufts of hair stood straight up as he fell over, kissing the ground with his openmouth, a mottled liquid oozing from the upturned back of his head.

grandma’s expression didn’t change; she gazed at the sorghum field as though awaitingsomething. a breeze swept across the inlet, raising ripples on the surface, setting the lilies inmotion, and bending the rays of light on the water. half of the gathered crows had flown down tothe bodies of shan tingxiu and his son; the other half remained perched on the willow branches,raising a clamour. their tail feathers fanned out in the breeze, revealing glimpses of the dark-green skin around their rectums.

a tall, husky man emerged from the sorghum field and walked along the bank of the inlet. hewore a rain cape that came down to his knees and a conical hat woven out of sorghum stalks. thestrap was made of emerald glass beads. a black silk bandana was tied around his neck. hewalked to the body of five monkeys shan and looked down at it. then he walked over tomagistrate cao’s hat, picked it up, and twirled it on the barrel of his pistol before heaving it inthe air. it sailed into the inlet.

the man looked straight at my grandma, who returned his gaze.

‘were you bedded by shan bianlang?’ he asked.

‘yes,’ grandma said.

‘shit!’ he turned and walked back into the sorghum field.

uncle arhat was utterly confused by what he’d seen, and couldn’t have told you which waywas up.

the bodies of the old master and his son were now completely covered by crows, some ofwhich were pecking at the eyes with their hard black beaks.

uncle arhat was trying to make sense of everything that had happened since he’d lodged hiscomplaint at the gaomi market the day before.

magistrate cao had led him into the county- government building, where he lit candles andlistened to his account as they gnawed on green radishes. early the next morning, uncle arhatguided the magistrate to northeast gaomi township, followed by little yan and a couple ofdozen soldiers. they reached the village at about ten o’clock. after a quick surveillance, thecounty magistrate summoned village chief five monkeys shan, and ordered him to round up thevillagers and drag the corpses from the water.

the surface of the inlet shone like chrome, and the depth of the water seemed unfathomable.

the county magistrate ordered five monkeys shan to dive for the bodies, but he shrank back,complaining that he didn’t know how to swim. uncle arhat summoned up his courage. ‘countymagistrate, they were my masters, so bringing them out should be my job.’ he told one of theother hands to fetch a bottle of wine, which he rubbed over his body before diving in. the waterwas as deep as a staff, so he took a long breath and sank to the bottom, his feet touching thespongy warm mud. he searched around blindly with his hands, but found nothing. so he rose tothe surface, took another deep breath, and dived again. it was cooler down there. when heopened his eyes, all he could see was a layer of yellow. his ears were buzzing. a large blurryobject swam up to him, and when he reached out to it a sharp pain shot through his finger, like awasp sting. he screamed, and swallowed a mouthful of brackish water. flailing his arms and legsfor all they were worth, he swam to the surface; on the bank, he gasped for breath.

‘find something?’ the magistrate asked.

‘nnn-no?.?.?.’ his face was ashen. ‘in the river?.?.?. something strange?.?.?.’

as he gazed down into the inlet, magistrate cao took off his hat, twirled it on his finger, thenturned and ordered two soldiers, ‘hand grenades!’

little yan herded the villagers a good twenty paces away.

magistrate cao walked over to the table and sat down.

the soldiers flattened out on the riverbank, and each took a muskmelon hand grenade out ofhis belt. they pulled the pins, banged the grenades against their rifles, and flung them into theinlet, where they hit the water with a splash, raising concentric circles on the surface. thesoldiers pressed their faces against the ground. silence – not even a bird chirped. a long timepassed, but nothing happened in the river. by then the concentric circles had reached the shore;the water was as smooth as a bronze mirror, and just as mysterious.

magistrate cao gnashed his teeth and ordered, ‘one more time!’

the soldiers heaved two more grenades, which sputtered as they sailed through the air, leavinga trail of white smoke; when they hit the water, two muffled explosions rose from the bottom,sending plumes of water a dozen feet into the air.

magistrate cao rushed up to the bank, followed by the villagers. the water continued roilingfor a long time. then a trail of bubbles rose to the surface and popped, revealing at least a dozenbig-mouthed, green-backed carp that bellied-up to the surface. as the ripples smoothed out, afoul stench settled over the water, which was bathed in sunlight. the light illuminated thevillagers, and magistrate cao’s face began to glow.

suddenly two trails of pink bubbles gurgled up in the middle of the inlet and burst, as thepeople on the bank held their breath. a layer of golden husks covered the surface of the riverunder the blazing sun, nearly blinding the onlookers. two black objects rose slowly beneath thetrail of bubbles, and then the surface was broken by two pairs of buttocks; the bodies rolled over,exposing the distended bellies of shan tingxiu and his son. their faces remained just below thesurface, as though held back by shyness.

the magistrate ordered a distillery worker to run back and fetch a long hooked pole, withwhich uncle arhat snagged the legs of shan tingxiu and his son – producing a sickening soundthat made everyone’s gums crawl, as though they had all bitten into sour apricots – then slowlydragged the bodies towards the bank.

the little donkey raised its head towards the heavens and brayed.

‘now what, young mistress?’ uncle arhat asked.

grandma thought for a moment. ‘have someone buy a couple of cheap coffins in town so wecan bury them as soon as possible. and pick out a gravesite. when you’re finished, come to thewestern compound. i want to talk to you.’

‘yes, ma’am,’ he replied respectfully.

uncle arhat, together with the dozen or so hired hands, laid the elder and younger masters intheir coffins and buried them in the sorghum field. they worked feverishly, in silence. by thetime they’d buried the dead, the sun was in the western sky, and crows were circling above thegravesite, their wings painted purple by rays of sunlight. uncle arhat said to the men, ‘go backand wait for me. don’t say anything. watch my eyes for a signal.’

he went to the western compound to receive instructions from grandma, who was sittingcross-legged on the blanket she’d taken from the donkey’s back. great-granddad was feedingstraw to the animal.

‘everything has been taken care of, young mistress,’ uncle arhat said. ‘these are eldermaster’s keys.’

‘keep them for now,’ she said. ‘tell me, is there someplace in the village where you can buystuffed buns?’

‘yes.’

‘buy two basketfuls, and give them to the men. tell them to come here when they’re done.

and bring me twenty buns.’

uncle arhat brought the twenty buns wrapped in fresh lotus leaves. grandma took them andsaid, ‘now go back to the eastern compound and have the men eat as quickly as possible.’

uncle arhat murmured his acknowledgement as he backed away.

grandma then placed the twenty buns in front of great-granddad and said, ‘you can eat theseon the road.’

‘little nine,’ he protested, ‘you’re my very own daughter!’

‘go on,’ she demanded, ‘i’ve heard enough!’

‘but i’m your dad!’ he rebuked her angrily.

‘you’re no father of mine, and i forbid you ever to enter my door again!’

‘i am your father!’

‘magistrate cao is my father. weren’t you listening?’

‘not so fast. you can’t just throw one father away because you found yourself a new one.

don’t think having you was easy on your mother and me!’

grandma flung the buns in his face. they hit like exploding grenades.

great- granddad cursed and ranted as he led the donkey out the gate: ‘you misbegotteningrate! what makes you think you can turn your back on your own family? i’m going to reportyou to the county authorities for being disloyal and unfilial! i’ll tell them you’re in league withbandits. i’ll tell them you schemed to have your husband killed.?.?.?.’

as great-granddad’s shouts and curses grew more distant and fainter, uncle arhat led thehired hands into the compound.

grandma touched up her hair and smoothed out her clothes, then announced in a statelymanner: ‘men, you have worked hard! i’m young, and have no experience in managing affairs,so i’ll need to rely on everyone’s help to get by. uncle arhat, you have served the family loyallyfor over a decade, and from now on you’ll be in charge of all distillery affairs. now that the elderand younger master have left us, we need to clean the table and start a new banquet. we willhave the backing of my foster- dad at the county level, and will do nothing to offend ourgreenwood friends. if we treat the villagers and our customers fairly and courteously, there’s noreason why we can’t stay in business. i want you to burn everything the elder and youngermasters used. anything that can’t be burned will be buried. tonight you’ll need to get plenty ofrest. well, what do you think, uncle arhat?’

‘we will carry out the young mistress’s orders,’ he responded.

‘if any of you wants to leave, i won’t stand in your way. anyone who finds it difficult to workfor a woman should look for employment elsewhere.’

the men exchanged glances. ‘we’ll do our best for the young mistress,’ they said.

‘then that’s all for now.’

the men retired to the bunkhouse in the eastern compound, buzzing about all that hadhappened. ‘turn in,’ uncle arhat said to them. ‘get some sleep. we have to be up earlytomorrow.’

in the middle of the night, when uncle arhat got up to feed the mules, he heard grandmasobbing in the western compound.

bright and early the next morning, he went out to look around. the gate to the westerncompound was closed, and there was no sound from inside. he stood on a stool and looked overthe gate. grandma was seated on the ground next to the wall, with only the comforter beneathher; she was fast asleep.

over the next three days, the shan family compound was turned upside down. uncle arhatand the hired hands, their bodies sprayed with wine, removed the elder and younger masters’

possessions – bedding, clothing, straw mats, eating utensils, sewing items, anything andeverything – piled it in the middle of the yard, doused it with wine, and set it on fire. then theydug a deep hole, into which they threw anything that didn’t burn.

when the house had been cleared out, uncle arhat carried a bowl of wine to grandma. astring of bronze keys lay at the bottom. ‘young mistress,’ he said, ‘the keys have beendisinfected in wine three times.’

‘uncle,’ grandma replied, ‘you should be in charge of the keys. my possessions are yourpossessions.’

her comment so terrified him he couldn’t speak.

‘this is no time to decline my offer. go buy some fabric and whatever else i’ll need to furnishthe house. have someone make bedding and mosquito nets. don’t worry about the cost. andhave the men disinfect the house, including the walls, with wine.

‘how much wine should they use?’

‘as much as they need.’

so the men sprayed wine until heaven and earth were soaked. grandma stood in theintoxicating air with a smile on her lips.

the disinfecting process used up nine whole vats of wine. once the spraying was completed,grandma told the men to soak new cloth in the wine and scrub everything three or four times.

that done, they whitewashed the walls, painted the doors and windows, and spread fresh strawand new mats over the kangs, until they had created a new world, top to bottom.

when their work was finished, she gave them each three silver dollars.

ten days later, the odour of wine had faded and the whitewash made the place smell fresh.

feeling lighthearted, grandma went to the village store, where she bought a pair of scissors,some red paper, needles and thread, and other domestic utensils. after returning home, sheclimbed onto the kang beside the window with its brand-new white paper covering and beganmaking paper cutouts for window decorations. she had always produced paper cutouts andembroidery that were so much nicer than anything the neighbour girls could manage – delicateand fine, simple and vigorous, in a style that was all her own.

as she picked up the scissors and cut a perfect square out of the red paper, a sense of uneasestruck her like a bolt of lightning. although she was seated on the kang, her heart had flown outthe window and was soaring above the red sorghum like a dove on the wing.?.?.?. since childhoodshe had lived a cloistered life, cut off from the outside world. as she neared maturity, she hadobeyed the orders of her parents, and been rushed to the home of her husband. in the two weeksthat followed, everything had been turned topsy- turvy: water plants swirling in the wind,duckweeds bathing in the rain, lotus leaves scattered on the pond, a pair of frolicking redmandarin ducks. during those two weeks, her heart had been dipped in honey, immersed in ice,scalded in boiling water, steeped in sorghum wine.

grandma was hoping for something, without knowing what it was. she picked up the scissorsagain, but what to cut? her fantasies and dreams were shattered by one chaotic image afteranother, and as her thoughts grew more confused, the mournful yet lovely song of the katydidsdrifted up from the early-autumn wildwoods and sorghum fields. a bold and novel idea leapedinto her mind: a katydid has freed itself from its gilded cage, where it perches to rub its wingsand sing.

after cutting out the uncaged katydid, grandma fashioned a plum-blossomed deer. the deer,its head high and chest thrown out, has a plum tree growing from its back as it wanders in searchof a happy life, free of care and worries, devoid of constraints.

only grandma would have had the audacity to place a plum tree on the back of a deer.

whenever i see one of grandma’s cutouts, my admiration for her surges anew. if she could havebecome a writer, she would have put many of her literary peers to shame. she was endowed withthe golden lips and jade teeth of genius. she said a katydid perched on top of its cage, and that’swhat it did; she said a plum tree grew from the back of a deer, and that’s where it grew.

grandma, compared with you, i am like a shrivelled insect that has gone hungry for three longyears.

as she was cutting the paper, the main gate suddenly creaked open, and a strangely familiarvoice called out in the yard: ‘mistress, are you hiring?’

the scissors dropped from grandma’s hand onto the kang.

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