Memories of Peking : South Side Stories [1 ed.] 9789882378148, 9789882371293

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MEMORIES OF PEKING

Lin Hai-yin at the age of six, the year she enrolled into the Ch’ang-tien Primary School.

Lin Hai-yin Translated by Nancy C. Ing and Chi Pang-yuan With an introduction by Peng Hsiao-yen

Memories of Peking: South Side Stories By Lin Hai-yin Translated by Nancy C. Ing and Chi Pang-yuan ©  The Chinese University of Hong Kong, 1992, 2020 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from The Chinese University of Hong Kong. ISBN 978-988-237-129-3 Published by: The Chinese University of Hong Kong Press The Chinese University of Hong Kong Sha Tin, N.T., Hong Kong. Fax: +852 2603 7355 Email: [email protected] Website: cup.cuhk.edu.hk Printed in Hong Kong

CONTENTS

Introduction by Peng Hsiao-yen, translated by Steven K. Luk Translators’ Introduction

vii xxiii

Winter Sun, Childhood Years, the Camel Caravan  

1

Hui-an Hostel

7

Let Us Go and See the Sea

91

Lan I-niang

129

Donkey Rolls

163

Papa’s Flowers Have Fallen —And I Was No Longer a Child

189

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INTRODUCTION

In 1960 the Taiwanese writer Lin Hai-yin’s (1918–2001) collection of stories Memories of Peking: South Side Stories (Ch’eng-nan chiu-shih) was first published by Kuangch’i Publishing Company, thus establishing her name in Taiwan’s literary circle. Based on the story of a Taiwanese family living in Peking in the 1920’s, the work became an immediate success and was eventually adapted into a movie by the Shanghai Film Studio in 1982. The heroine of the stories is a little girl called Ying-tzu, who is thought to be the persona of the author in her childhood days. Indeed, the work does take Lin’s childhood as its background, as is witnessed by the author herself in the “Preface” to the first edition. Were those stories real or fictional? She revealed, “All I can say is that the stories collected

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are interrelated. I am not going to tell you whether they are genuine or made up. I just want you to share the memories of my childhood.” 1 Even though a story or a novel can be based on the author’s own personal experiences, real facts or people, it is narrative fiction after all. Our appreciation of the work then should be based on the logic of events as constructed in the narrative, and not on whether these events are “genuine” or “made up,” or whether the work is based on “historical events” or not.2 It is helpful to understand Lin Hai-yin’s family background prior to discussing work. Her father came from a Hakka family in T’ou-fen, Miao-li, while her mother, of Minnan origin, was from Pan-ch’iao, Taipei. Hai-yin was born in Osaka, Japan in 1918 and she returned to her native T’ou-fen town with her parents when she was three. Her father had been a primary school teacher before going to Osaka to do business. Since his business did not prosper, he returned to Taiwan and then moved to Peking later to look for job opportunities. Hai-yin was five when the family moved to Peking in 1923. Her father passed away in 1931, when she graduated from primary school. As the eldest daughter in the family, she had the responsibility of helping her mother take care of her five brothers and sisters. She entered the Peking Professional School of Journalism at the age of sixteen in 1934 and simultaneously functioned as a 1 2

Lin Hai-yin. “Ch’eng-nan chiu-shih (Daixu)”[Preface of Memories of Peking]. Ch’eng-nan chiu-shih [Memories of Peking] (Taipei: Kuangch’i Publishing Company, 1960), pp. 5–11. Cf. Dorrit Cohn, The Distinction of Fiction (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1999).

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journalist trainee at Shih-chieh jih-pao (The world daily). She returned to Taipei in 1948 after the war with her husband Hsia Ch’eng-ying and three children. In sum, she had lived in Peking for twenty-five years. In Taiwan, Lin Hai-yin worked as the editor of Kuo-yü jih-pao (Mandarin daily news; 1949–1953), the editor-in-chief of United Daily News Literary Supplement (Lien-ho pao fu-k’an; 1953–1963), and the editor-in-chief and publisher of Ch’un-wen-hsüeh yüeh-k’an (Pure literature monthly; 1967– 1971). She was the founder of the Ch’un-wen-hsüeh ch’u-panshe (Pure literature publishing house; 1968–1995). In addition, she authored three novels, four collections of short stories, nineteen collections of essays and ten children’s books. Hsia Ch’eng-ying, the editor-in-chief and publisher of Kuo-yü jih-pao and also well known columnist of “On the Glass Mat of My Desk” (Po-li-tien shang) under the pen name Ho Fan, said with a sigh that Peking and Taipei were the only two cities in which they had ever lived. In fact Lin Hai-yin lived in Taiwan for over half a century, or fifty-three years to be exact. Although raised in Peking, Lin Hai-yin made her name in Taiwan. The major part of her life was devoted to Taiwan’s literary community. Although most of her works depict her experiences in Taiwan, she has often been classified as a writer of Mainland origin, owing partly to the towering success of Memories of Peking: South Side Stories with its genuine flavor of the old capital, and partly to her own perfect Peking accent. In fact, Lin made significant contributions to the localization of Taiwan literature during the ten years she acted as the editor-in-chief of United Daily News Literary Supplement. It was

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a transitional period when the language of literary creation was shifting from Japanese to Chinese. She encouraged senior writers, who had stopped writing because of their poor mastery of the new language, to start afresh and industriously corrected their Chinese. They included writers such as Yang K’uei, Shih Ts’ui-feng, Liao Ch’ing-hsiu, Ch’en Huo-ch’üan, Wen Hsin, Chuang Ch’i, and others. Many writers of the succeeding generation had their first works published in the Literary Supplement under her supervision, including Cheng Ch’ing-wen,3 Lin Hwai-min,4 Huang Ch’un-ming,5 and Ch’i Teng-sheng. 6 Chung Chao-cheng’s 7 and Chung Li-ho’s 8 first novels were first serialized in the Literary Supplement during this period. If we look back at the development of the localization of Taiwan literature since the Chiang Kai-shek 3 4 5 6 7

8

Cheng Ch’ing-wen. “Jimo de xin” [Lonely Heart], Lian fu [United Daily News Literary Supplement]. March 13th, 1958. Lin Hwai-min. “Erge” [Children Song], Lian fu [United Daily News Literary Supplement]. April 24th, 1961. Huang Ch’un-ming. “Chengzai luoche” [Getting off at Yilan], Lian fu [United Daily News Literary Supplement]. March 20th, 1962. Ch’i Teng-sheng. “Shiye puke zhayouyu” [Unemployed, Poker, Fried Squid], Lian fu [United Daily News Literary Supplement]. April 3rd, 1962. Chung Chao-cheng. “Lubinghua” [The Dull-Ice Flower], Lian fu [United Daily News Literary Supplement]. March 29th–June 15th, 1960. It was the first serial novel written by native Taiwanese writer that has been published on local newspaper. Chung Li-ho’s works has been successively published on Lian fu since August 1960, including short fiction “Fu huo” [Resurrection] (July 30th–August 5th, 1960), novella “Yu” [Rain] (September 1st–October 11th, 1960) and serial novel “Lishan nongchang” [Lishan Farm] (February 24th–June 19th, 1961). After gaining popular support and attention, the eight volume “Chung Li-ho quanji” [The Complete works of Chung Li-ho] was finally published by Yuan xing chu ban she.

Introduction | xi

government moved to Taiwan, the dividing period should be with Lin Hai-yin’s significant efforts to assist and promote writers of Taiwanese origin. Without her insight and vision the literary history of Taiwan would have been vastly different. At a time when anti-Communist propaganda was a dominant ideological force in literary creation, the Literary Supplement under Lin’s editorship created a new space where the autonomy of literature was valued. As a writer, Lin Hai-yin’s performance was exemplary among women writers of her generation. The contributions of women writers in Taiwan during the early years of the Chiang Kai-shek government are yet to be assessed; they have not received the attention they deserve. Their rise to eminence owed much to their Mandarin Chinese proficiency at a time when the new government mandated that the official language in Taiwan be Chinese in lieu of Japanese in line with the change of the regime. Since the early republican years it had become quite common for women to be formally educated in Mainland China. Many of Lin’s female contemporaries who emigrated to Taiwan from the Mainland had had high school or college education. In keeping with the cultural policy that implemented the Mandarin Chinese Movement, Chinese became the only creative language in Taiwan. Those young and middle-aged intellectuals who had recently arrived in Taiwan were equipped with a language advantage that facilitated their emergence as mainstays on the cultural scene. On the one hand, there was the demise of the old writers who had flourished under the Japanese regime. On the other,

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there was the rise of a new coterie of women writers whose number and titles published were unmatched since the May Fourth Movement. When the grands récits of anti-communist propaganda were in vogue, these women writers’ petits récits focused on their own personal feelings and daily minutiae, which won the heart of many a reader. The prose pieces by Chang Hsiu-ya, Hsü Chung-p’ei and Ch’i Chün, for instance, were regarded as “stylistic gems for appreciation.” The generation who grew up in the 1950’s and the 1960’s modeled their writing exercises on the work produced by these women writers. Compared with the writing style of the women writers of the 1980’s and the 1990’s, the language of Lin’s generation was readable, clear and precise, free from the convoluted sentence patterns typical of European languages and the long modifying clauses resulting from Japanese influence. It was after she came to Taiwan that Lin made her debut and became established as a writer. Her language has the same stylistic features as those of contemporary women writers. She was adroit in her use of short sentences marked by a rapid and vivid pace. In addition, probably thanks to her combined Hakka and Minnan origins, she was highly sensitive to dialects, which studded and formed a seamless entity with the standard Mandarin in her works. A good example is Memories of Peking: South Side Stories. The narrator of the stories is Ying-tzu, who attends primary school in Peking. Her father is a Taiwanese of Hakka origin and her mother, a Taiwanese of Minnan origin. As such, “mai chu-jou i-chin, pu-yao t’ai-fei” (buy one catty of pork, not too fat) becomes

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“mai tsu-lou i-chin, pu-yao t’ai-hui” (buy one catty of bark, not to fly) with her mother. Her father would say, “ching mekai” (what are you afraid of ?) instead of “p’a shen-me,” or “tso wu-te” (you can’t do this) instead of “pu-k’o-i.” By poking fun at the linguistic pell-mell, Lin portrays an émigré community with multiple dialects. China’s big cities such as Peking and Shanghai have attracted continuous flows of population who come to attend school or look for job opportunities. Given the historical and political contexts, postwar Taiwan also accepted an influx of émigrés from the Mainland, which Lin likewise depicts in her works with Taiwan as their setting. Lin is skillful in her presentation of the conflicts and harmonies among different regional groups living side by side in postwar Taiwan. Her story “The Tale of Blood” is about a local Taiwanese father-in-law who has opposed to his daughter’s marrying a Mainland émigré husband. Only after a blood transfusion to the seriously sick father is the son-in-law finally accepted into the family. The Mandarin words mimicking the sounds of Minnan expressions make the scenes hilarious. Examples abound such as “hsin-ma tai-chi” (the new mother catches the chicken) for “shen-me shih” (what’s the matter?) and “shao-tan” (fried eggs) for “shao-teng” (please wait). Although melodramatically represented, these scenes depict how difficult it is for people of different dialects and regional origins to live and work together in the same community. Memories of Peking: South Side Stories centers on little Yingtzu’s life from the age of six to her graduation from primary school at twelve. There are five episodes, namely, “Hui-an

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Hostel,” “Let Us Go and See the Sea,” “Lan I-niang,” “Donkey Rolls” and “Papa’s Flowers Have Fallen.” As is typical of a Bildungsroman, each episode tells the story of how Ying-tzu explores the meaning of life in her daily surroundings. She grows from a little girl to a teenager who begins to understand the complexity of human relations. Ying-tzu is the narrator throughout the book. It is through her eyes that the reader looks at the adult world. When adults talk about “crazy people and thieves” and “good people and bad people,” she has her own interpretations of these terms, while she tries to comprehend their meanings in the social context. On the issues of man-and-woman and parent-and-child relationships, she is gradually enlightened by watching adults’ behavior and their interactions. Her simple diction and psychological reactions throw into relief the complexity of the adult world. By the time the stories end, she has grown six years older, while she has also matured psychologically. From the mind’s eye of a six year old, Hsiu-chen, the madwoman at Hui-an Hostel, is a lovely person, worthy of pity. Ying-tzu describes their first encounter, “Her eyes stared unmovingly at me as if searching for something in my face. Her face was pale, with a bluish tint, the tip of her nose was a little red, most probably chilled by the cold wind; her chin was pointed and her thin lips were tightly pressed together.” As can be witnessed, this passage is free from lengthy expressions or superfluous modifying clauses. Short sentences and succinct descriptions like these are typical of standard Chinese usage. The confused Hsiu-chen mistakes little Ying-tzu for

Introduction | xv

her illegitimate daughter forcibly taken away from her. She takes Ying-tzu’s measurements, thinking she would make a new dress for her daughter. In Ying-tzu’s childish mind, Hsiuchen is “playing house” with her. In fact, Hui-an Hostel had been built by the Hui-an Clansmen Association for young men from Hui-an to stay at when they are attending college in Peking. Hsiu-chen fell in love with one of the college students, who later left her. Her parents discovered that she was pregnant. The child was taken away from her at birth and abandoned at the Ch’i-hua City Gate. Hsiu-chen thus lost her mind, known as a madwoman in the neighborhood. Everybody keeps away from her and pokes fun at her. Only Ying-tzu can enter her world and share her feelings about the loss of a lover and a child. She even tries to search for the lost child on Hsiu-chen’s behalf. Ying-tzu’s little playmate, Niuerh, is beaten up all the time and is eager to look for her real parents, since she was picked up at the Ch’i-hua City Gate by her adopted father. By the birthmark on Niu-erh’s neck Hsiu-chen realizes that she is her daughter. They set out by train to look for Hsiu-chen’s lover. The neighbors all said that the madwoman Hsiu-chen kidnapped Niu-erh, and almost kidnapped Ying-tzu as well. However, Ying-tzu thinks that she is the only one who knows the truth. She falls ill afterwards and remains unconscious for ten days. When she comes to, she discovers that the gold bracelet, which she stole and gave to Hsiu-chen to provide her with travel expenses, is still worn on her mother’s wrist. What actually happened? Was it real? Or was it just a dream? She can hardly tell.

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“Let Us Go and See the Sea” tells the story of a thief. Ying-tzu comes across a stranger when she is playing and he becomes her secret friend. He has a younger brother attending Ying-tzu’s primary school. He confides in her and says that to send his brother to school, he has to do quite a few unacceptable things. Around this time people in the neighborhood often complain about the loss of clothes and other stuff. The culprit is apprehended at last and to her amazement it is her secret friend. What hurts her most is that she is the unknowing informant that led to his apprehension by the police. Her mother tells her that this thief is a bad guy who deserves his downfall. Ying-tzu refuses to accept this view; she has her own interpretation. She recalls teaching this stranger friend to recite a passage from her textbook, “‘Let us go and see the sea! Let us go and see the sea! … The golden-red sun rises up from the sea .…’ Couldn’t I now say that ‘The golden-red sun falls from the sky’?” (p. 113) Moreover, “‘… it also rises up in the blue sky .…’” (p. 117) Ying-tzu murmurs, “Yes, one day I will write a book to distinguish the sea from the sky and to tell the difference between good people and bad people, between crazy people and thieves. But at that moment, I couldn’t tell one thing from another.” (p. 113) Growing up means to learn to differentiate good from evil, right from wrong. Yet Ying-tzu begins to understand that it is in fact not that easy to distinguish the good from the bad. The story of Lan I-niang describes how sensitive the eightyear old Ying-tzu is to man-and-woman relationship. Exceptionally precocious in this regard, she serves as a go-between

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for Lan I-niang and Uncle Te-hsien. Thus she also succeeds in preventing her parents’ potential marital crisis. Lan I-niang is the ex-concubine of her father’s friend. Out of sympathy her father agrees to let her stay in the house despite her mother’s reluctance. One day Ying-tzu sees her father holding Lan I-niang’s hand and realizes that her father intends to cheat on her mother. She used to like Lan I-niang, but now her attitudes change drastically, “… the moment I saw Papa and Lan I-niang, I felt that Mama was being wronged.… My fondness for Lan I-niang diminished. I was filled with hate and fear.” Such succinct sentences are especially effective in conveying the little girl’s emotional ups and downs. Uncle Te-hsien is another person whom her father shelters. It is said that he is a revolutionary youth who came to hide from the ongoing political persecution. He, too, is not a welcomed guest. Little Ying-tzu has a plan in her mind. She speaks well of Uncle Te-hsien in front of Lan I-niang, and tells Uncle Te-hsien that Lan I-niang likes him. She carries love letters back and forth for them and sets up opportunities for them to meet alone. This obviously blocks her father’s advances on Lan I-niang. Finally, things develop as planned. Lan I-niang and Uncle Te-hsien takes a trip to Shanghai together. None of the adults in the house knows that this was Ying-tzu’s doing. A child’s intelligence ought not to be taken lightly. “Donkey Rolls” tells the story of Ying-tzu’s younger brother’s wet-nurse Sung Ma, who is helping the family take care of the children. She nursed her younger brother and then her younger sister, while four years passed. She used to have two children of her own. One had drowned in the river

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one or two years ago, while the other had been given to a coach driver at the Ha-te City Gate by her good-for-nothing husband the day Sung Ma came to work for the family. Little Ying-tzu searches for the child aimlessly with Sung Ma outside the Ha-te City Gate. They have asked around in all the coach companies in Peking, but nothing turns up. At last, Sung Ma rides back home on a donkey with her husband. This is the first time Ying-tzu learns something about poverty: it can lead to family separation. Sung Ma’s husband, who shows up to see his wife twice a year, always brings along with him a donkey. It always rolls in their yard and tramples the grass and flowers that her father has grown. The donkey with the jingling bells on its neck finally takes Sung Ma away. “Papa’s Flowers Have Fallen” describes the time when the twelve-year-old Ying-tzu, just graduating from primary school with the diploma still in her hand, learns of her father’s death. She shows a self-restraint that is much more mature than her age. She says, “My skinny sister was fighting with Yen-yen over a toy; Little Brother was pouring sand into a bottle. Yes, among all of us, I was a small grown-up.” (p. 200) The stories of Memories of Peking: South Side Stories record the process through which little Ying-tzu learns the meaning of being an “adult.” Through the experiences of the joy of life and the sorrow of death and separation, she bids farewell to her childhood. In the narrative of Memories of Peking: South Side Stories scenes of folk customs in the old capital abound. These include the sliced cake peddler (p. 134), the neighborhood near

Introduction | xix

the Hu-fang-ch’iao Road, the evening performance of the Fulien-ch’eng Chinese Opera Training School (p. 135), the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth of the seventh moon (p. 151), the junkman (p. 165), and the donkey rolls (a kind of local snack, p. 180). It conveys an old Peking flavor. Also, the stories are set in a vividly described historical background. For instance, the narrative of “Lan I-niang” begins with the execution of bandits and revolutionary youths, which instantly reminds the reader of the historical context. The story of Lan I-niang and Uncle Te-hsien is also a kind of “revolutionary love affair.” Besides the stories reminiscent of Peking, Lin Hai-yin also wrote stories that describe women caught between the old and the new during the the May Fourth period, who struggled silently between traditional moral codes and the aspirations of the self. Heroines in such stories as “Candles” (Chu; 1965), “Sacrifice” (Hsün; 1956), and “The Pleated Skirt with a Golden Fish Pattern” (Chin li-yü te pai-che-ch’ün; 1963) are all oppressed one way or another. One pretends to be sick until the end of her life out of jealousy for her husband’s taking a concubine. Another woman has suppressed her sexual desire for decades since her husband’s death in her youth. Still another woman, a concubine waiting patiently for her son’s wedding to come, the only occasion when she is allowed to wear a pleated skirt that represents the status of a formal wife, is eventually deprived of that opportunity because it is out of fashion in the republican years. Most of Lin’s stories describe experiences in Taiwan, and many of them tell stories of couples who, separated from their original spouses

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during the Civil War in China, meet each other in Taiwan and get married. These stories include the short story “The Crab Pastry” (Hsieh-k’o huang; 1957), the novel A Late Sunny Day (Wan-ch’ing; 1965), and the short story “The Core of the Candle” (Chu-hsin; 1965), all of which, though by no means meant to be littérature engagée, nevertheless reveal the political uphevals of the times. Indeed, although women writers at the time mostly took love, marriage, and daily minutiae as their subject matter, they were not cooped up in an ivory tower. One may as well say that, from the positions manifested in their petits récits of personal loves and hates, they provided a perspective distinct from, yet parallel to that of the grands récits of national discourse. Lin also wrote about the “new women” in post-war Taiwan. Her novels Hsiao-yün (Hsiaoyün; 1959), Meng-chu’s Journey (Meng-chu te lü-ch’eng; 1967) and Spring Breeze (Ch’un-feng; 1967) are examples. If we appraise these works from a feminist perspective, we can see Lin’s stand on issues of the two sexes. These three works are all about triangular love affairs, and it is always the women in rivalry who engage in negotiations to achieve a solution. As a rule, the “third party” always gives way and withdraws from the affair. Does this imply the value of “sisterhood,” or the “conservatism” of women writers in the sixties? Looking from the feminist point of view, we can possibly find new interpretations. Lin Hai-yin’s achievements as an editor, writer, and publisher were unmatched in Taiwan literature. Thanks to her formal education in Peking and her unique sensibility to language,

Introduction | xxi

she was able to act as a leader whose seminal efforts played a crucial role at a time when Mandarin Chinese became the official language in Taiwan. Only when Taiwanese transcend the boundaries and visions of an insulated islander can they make significant contributions. All Taiwanese men of letters who were able to leave an impact on local culture were those who went beyond the island’s cultural boundaries. Chang Wo-chün’s introduction of the May Fourth New Literature Movement to the island triggered the New Literature Movement in Taiwan. Yang K’uei’s advocacy of the international proletariat literature helped usher in Taiwan’s Proletariat Literature Movement. Taiwanese writers under the Japanese rule, though acculturated in either Chinese or Japanese culture, still retained their Taiwanese identity. The so-called “local identity” is often an immediate response vis-à-vis foreign cultures. Only when one trespasses “local” boundaries and then comes back can one rejuvenate local values. Peng Hsiao-yen Institute of Chinese Literature and Philosophy Academia Sinica, Taiwan

Translated by Steven K. Luk The Chinese University Press The Chinese University of Hong Kong

2002

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TRANSLATORS’ INTRODUCTION

This is a unique collection of short stories that can also be read as a lyrical novel. Knitting all these childhood memories together into an impressive whole is the voice of a girl, Ying-tzu. It begins in the year 1926, when she is seven years old, and continues till she is thirteen. The progressive development of the stories runs parallel with the growth of the girl’s understanding of life. Family events form the frame of the narrative, yet it is her keen observation of people and things around her that give it flesh and blood. The book was an instant success and has gone beyond its thirtieth printing since its first appearance in 1960. Though the little girl’s range of observation covers only the southern corner of the city, these stories have captured the readers’ imagination. To many readers, it also seems that

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what is most prominent is not only the characters, but that particular period of time and the vast metropolis of Peking, the fabulous capital of China. The author is well known for her intuitive perception and quick witted humor, and both these qualities appear in all the stories. In “Hui-an Hostel,” the first story in this collection, Ying-tzu sounds uncertain, her groping perception shadowed by a feeling of bewilderment. This bewilderment appears again in “Let Us Go and See the Sea,” a story based on the delicate line between innocence and guilt, and the difficulty for a child to fully apprehend the fine line dividing “the bad” from “the good.” In “Lan I-niang,” Ying-tzu becomes more aware of the undercurrents within the relationships of the adult world and precociously manipulates events to protect her mother. “Donkey Rolls” is the only story in which the main character is not the child but Sung Ma, the illiterate wet nurse who appears in all the five stories with an earthy wisdom and dignity all her own. In the afterword of her last and newest Chinese edition (1988) of this collection, the author herself says, “At the end of every story, the person I cared for would leave me, until in the last one, ‘Papa’s Flowers Have Fallen,’ even my beloved father left us.” It is the impact of this constant loss that arouses the child’s awareness of the uncertainties of human relationships, even of life itself, catapulting the child away from childhood joys into the sorrows of the adult world. Lin Hai-yin, one of the foremost women writers in Taiwan, is the daughter of a native of Miaoli, a city in the center

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of the island. She grew up in the great city of Peking and has considered it her second home. In the winter of 1948, she returned to Taiwan and has been pursuing a successful career as a writer and publisher. Her creative works include many volumes of essays, three novels, and four collections of short stories. Without her official consent, Memories of Peking: South Side Stories was made into a movie in Shanghai in 1982, and has won quite a few prizes in international competitions. (The name of the movie is Memories of Beijing.) This collection has been a cooperative venture by the two translators. The primary division of labor was as follows: Nancy C. Ing translated “Winter Sun, Childhood Years, the Camel Caravan,” “Hui-an Hostel,” “Let Us Go and See the Sea” and “Lan I-niang”; Chi Pang-yuan translated “Donkey Rolls” and “Papa’s Flowers Have Fallen.” We wish to express our sincere appreciation to Mr. Charles Fosselman for his suggestions and editorial advice. We are indeed happy to be able to present the English version of Memories of Peking: South Side Stories, for we truly feel this book is not only an outstanding achievement in the Chinese literary world, but also a sensitive insight into a traditional Chinese family and society of the past that may never be recaptured again. Taipei, 1989

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Winter Sun, Childhood Years, the Camel Caravan

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The camel caravan came, stopping outside our front gate. The camels stood there in a long line, silently waiting to do man’s bidding. The weather was cold and dry. The herdsman pulled off his felt cap and a white cloud of steam rose from his bald pate, slowly merging into the cold air. Papa was bargaining with him. Over the twin humps of each camel were two sacks of coal. I wondered if they were full of “South Mountain” coal or the kind they refer to as “Dark Gold Black Jade”? I often saw these names written in large black characters on the white wall of the coal shop on Shun-ch’eng Street. But the herdsman said that they and the camels had brought it all the way from Men-t’ou-kou, step by step. Another herdsman was feeding the camels. Bending their forelegs, they knelt on the ground, their rear ends jutting straight up behind them. Papa had finished bargaining with them. The herdsmen unloaded the coal, the camels ate.

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I stood right in front of the camels, watching them munch straw. They had such ugly faces, such long teeth, and they munched so slowly and calmly. As they chewed, their upper teeth interlocked with their lower ones, grinding back and forth as clouds of warm vapor spewed from their huge nostrils and white foam covered their beards. I stared at them, mesmerized, and my own mouth also began to move. My teacher had told me that I should learn from the camels’ impassive forbearance. They were never in a hurry, walking and chewing slowly, they would always arrive at their destination, always eat until they were full. Maybe they were by nature slow, for whenever they had to run a few steps to avoid passing vehicles, their movements were most ungainly. One would know whenever the camel caravan was approaching, for the lead camel would always have a bell tied around his long neck. With each step he took, it would ring out with a “tang ... tang ... tang.” “Why do they have to have a bell?” I always questioned anything I did not understand. Papa told me that camels were afraid of wolves because they were often bitten by them. The herdsmen tied the bell on so that when the wolves heard it tinkling, they would know that there were men around to protect the camels and would not dare attack. However, my child’s mind perceived things differently from the grown-ups. I said to Papa, “That’s not so, Papa! As they walk over the shifting sand on their soft padded feet, there is not a single sound. Didn’t

Winter Sun, Childhood Years, the Camel Caravan | 5

you say that they can walk for three nights without drinking any water, only silently chewing on the cud that was regurgitated from their stomachs? It must be that the camel herdsmen can’t stand the loneliness of those long treks so they tie the bells on so as to make the journey a little more cheerful.” Papa thought a while, then laughed as he said, “Maybe your way of thinking is more appealing.” Winter was almost over, spring was near, and the sun was especially warm; warm enough for people to take off their cotton-padded jackets. Had not the camels also begun taking off their old camel-hair coats? Clots of hair were falling off their bodies, hanging loosely under their bellies. I really wanted to take a pair of scissors and cut them off. They were indeed messy-looking. The herdsmen had also taken off their furry sheepskin coats, slinging them over the smaller hump on the camels’ backs. The sacks were all empty since all the “Dark Gold Black Jade” had been sold, and as they walked with lighter steps, the sound of the bells was crisper than before. Summer came and not even the shadow of a camel could be seen. I asked Mama, “Where do they go in summer?” “Who?” “The camels!” Mama could not answer the question, so she exclaimed, “Always questions, questions! What a child!” Summer had gone, autumn was over, winter had arrived and the camel caravan was back again; but childhood had

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passed away, never to return. And I would never again be so silly as to imitate the camels’ chewing under the winter sun. But how I miss the people and places of those childhood years spent in the south side of the city of Peking! I said to myself, go ahead and write it all down. Let the reality of childhood days pass away, but keep the spirit of childhood forever alive. Thus I have written this collection, Memories of Peking: South Side Stories. Silently I reminisce, slowly I begin to write. I see the caravan of camels approaching under the winter sun, I hear the pleasing tinkle of the bells, and childhood days return once again into my heart. October 1960

Hui-an Hostel

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1 ...... The sun filtered through the large glass windows, shining on the white papered wall, the three-drawered table, and on to my little bed. I was awake, but still lying in bed watching the tiny specks of dust dancing in the rays of sunlight. Sung Ma came to dust the window sill and the table. The swift movements of the feather duster stirred up more dust than ever, all dancing in the shaft of sunlight. I quickly pulled up the quilt to cover my face, for fear that the dust would make me cough. Sung Ma’s feather duster reached the railing of my bed, tapping briskly over every nook and corner. I wanted to scold her but she spoke first, “Haven’t you slept enough yet?”And with that she pulled away my quilt, revealing me in my flannel pajamas so that I immediately sneezed twice. She forced me to get up and dressed me. My flowered cotton twill padded jacket and trousers were all brand new; the trouser legs were funny for they were so heavily padded with cotton wool they could stand up all by themselves.

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Mama was sitting beside the stove combing her hair. Bending over slightly, she drew a handful of hair from the back of her neck over her shoulders, and using a fine-toothed comb, she began slowly combing over and over again. There was a bottle of rose-colored hair oil sitting on the stove for it was so cold that the oil would freeze and had to be melted before it could be used. It was very bright outside. Perched on the bare tree branch were several little birds who were unafraid of the cold. I wondered to myself, when would the tree be covered with leaves again? This was our first winter in Peking. Mama still could not speak Pekingese very well. She was telling Sung Ma what to buy at the market today and she could not say, “Buy one catty of pork, not too fat.” What she said sounded like, “Buy one catty of bark not to fly.” After Mama finished combing her hair, she smeared the leftover oil on her hands over my hair, plaiting it into two pigtails. I saw Sung Ma preparing to go out with a basket in her hand and hurriedly called after her, “Sung Ma, I’ll go with you to the marketplace.” “You’re not afraid of that mad woman at Hui-an Hostel?” Sung Ma asked. Sung Ma was a native of Shun-yi county and could not speak Pekingese very well. So she pronounced it “Hui-nan Hostel,” Mama said “Huei-wa Hostel,” Papa said “Fei-an Hostel,”1 1

Her original dialect was Fukienese. His original dialect was Hakka. So they often could not pronounce Pekingese correctly.

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I said “Hui-an Hostel” like the other children in our hu-t’ung.2 I didn’t know which was actually correct. Why should I be afraid of the mad woman at Hui-an Hostel? Yesterday she even smiled at me! That smile of hers was really appealing, if it were not for Mama holding tightly on to my hand I would have walked over and talked to her. The Hui-an Hostel was the first building along this hut’ung of ours. Above the three stone steps were a pair of large black doors, over which hung a horizontal tablet inscribed with four characters “Hui-an County Hostel” which Papa had taught me to read “Fei-an Hostel”when we were walking past it. Papa had said that those who lived inside there were all students from “Fei-an,” who were studying at a university, just like Younger Uncle. “Also in Peking University?” I asked Papa. “There’re plenty of universities in Peking, there’s Ching Hua University, Yenching University ...” “Can I go into Fei-an ... no, Hui-an Hostel to play with the younger uncles?” “Can’t do that! Can’t do that!” I knew no matter what I asked, Papa would always use this Hakka expression to refuse me. I thought to myself that the day will come when I would climb those three steps and walk through those pitch black doors. I had seen the mad woman of Hui-an Hostel several times. Each time, if she happened to be standing by the door, Sung 2

Lanes or alleyways in Peking are called hu-t’ung.

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Ma or Mama would quickly grab my hand tightly, whispering,“Mad woman!” and we would walk by, staying close to the wall. If I wanted to turn my head and look back, they would tug at my arm to stop me from doing so. Actually, she was but a girl with a long braid, just like any of the other girls in the neighborhood! She always leaned against the doorway watching people pass by. Yesterday, I went with Mama to Fu-chao-lou store on Loma-shih Road. Mama was going to buy duck egg powder for her face and I loved to eat the eight-flavored preserved plums that were sold there. We came back by way of Lo-ma-shih Road, passing through two other hu-t’ungs to the well house at Ch’un-shu Hu-t’ung, which was diagonally opposite to the hu-t’ung where we lived. As soon as we entered our hu-t’ung I saw the mad girl of Hui-an Hostel. She was wearing a maroon-colored padded gown and black cotton-wool padded shoes, a row of bangs covered her forehead and a piece of bright red wool was tied around the ends of her long thick braid which she pulled from back over her shoulder, toying with it as she stared vacantly at the acacia tree in the garden of the house across the street. Several crows were perched on the dried branches and there was no one in the hu-t’ung. Mama was muttering to herself as she walked with her head lowered, most probably trying to figure out how much she had spent shopping that day so she could give an account to Papa who was always anxious to know about everything regarding household matters. Thus she didn’t even notice that we had already reached “Huei-wa Hostel.” I followed behind her, keeping my eyes on the mad girl, and even forgot to keep

Hui-an Hostel | 13

on walking. At that moment, the girl’s eyes shifted from the acacia tree and fell on me. Her eyes stared unmovingly at me as if searching for something in my face. Her face was pale, with a bluish tint, the tip of her nose was a little red, most probably chilled by the cold wind; her chin was pointed and her thin lips were tightly pressed together. Suddenly, her lips moved, her eyelids fluttered with the hint of a smile, as if she wanted to say something; and the hand that was playing with her braid stretched out toward me, gesturing for me to go to her. Not knowing why, I shivered, then I began walking toward her beckoning hand and smile. But Mama turned her head, suddenly grabbing hold of me. “What’s the matter with you?” “Uh?” I was somewhat confused. Mama glanced at the mad girl and said, “Why are you shivering? Are you scared––do you want to go to the toilet? Let’s hurry home!” Mama pulled tightly at my hand. Arriving home, I still kept thinking of the way she looked. Wasn’t her smile intriguing? If I talked to her and said, “Hey!” what would she do? I was in a daze, wondering, too listless to eat my dinner. Actually I had eaten too many preserved plums. But after dinner, Mama said to Sung Ma, “Ying-tzu must have been frightened.” Then she prepared a bowl of sugared water for me to drink and ordered me to go to bed and sleep. My hair had already been braided and I ran out to go marketing with Sung Ma. She walked in front and I followed behind. Her ugly black cotton padded trousers, so thick and

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baggy, were tied up tightly at the ankles. People told Mama that the maid servants in Peking knew how to steal things, that when they stole rice, they would pour it into their trouser legs and since they were tightly tied up, the rice would not trickle out. I wondered, were Sung Ma’s baggy trouser legs filled with our white rice? As we passed by Hui-an Hostel, I glanced toward it. The black doors were open wide and in the doorway was a coal stove. The mad girl’s father and mother were cooking something on the stove. Everyone called the girl’s father, Lao Wang.3 He was the gatekeeper for Hui-an Hostel and they lived in the room nearest to the street. Although Sung Ma would not let me look at the mad girl, I knew that she herself also liked to look at her, and ask about her. It was just that she did not want me to see nor to listen to what was being said. At that very moment, Sung Ma was also peering at Huian Hostel when the mother happened to lift her head. Both of them almost simultaneously greeted one another saying, “Have you eaten yet?” Papa said that the people in Peking had nothing to do all day so every time they meet anyone they would ask if they had eaten or not. Coming out of the alley, a few steps southward was the well house. Water was all over the road and certain spots were covered with a thin layer of ice. The wheelbarrows filled with water came and went, one after another. The wheelbarrow 3

“Lao”means old. It is often used together with surnames as a familiar way of addressing male associates.

Hui-an Hostel | 15

men pushed along, swaying from side to side, the wheels squeaking so shrilly that I wanted to muffle up my ears! There were two people who were drawing water from the deep well and pouring it into a huge trough, then the wheelbarrow pushers would draw the water from the trough into their barrows to deliver to each household. A friend of mine, Niu-erh, who was just my height, lived near the well house. I stopped by the well and said to Sung Ma, “Sung Ma, you go do your marketing while I wait for Niu-erh.” The first time I saw Niu-erh was at the sundries store. Holding a bowl in each hand, she gave them a large coin to buy soy sauce, vinegar and scallions. The shop attendant was teasing her, “Niu-erh, sing something then I’ll let you go!” Tears filled Niu-erh’s eyes and her hands were shaking, almost spilling the vinegar. Filled with angry resentment, I made my way to her side and with arms akimbo, I demanded, “Why should she?” And that was how I got to know Niu-erh. Niu-erh had only one braid, brown and short, like the tail of the little puppy that Mama bought for me at the Earth God Temple. The second time I saw Niu-erh was when I was standing beside the well, watching the people drawing water. She came over silently to stand beside me and we smiled at each other, not knowing what to say. After a while, I could not help reaching out to touch her little brown pigtail; she smiled at me again and, pointing behind, said in a low voice, “You live in that hu-t’ung?” “Yeah.”

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“Which door?” I stuck out my hand and counted,“One, two, three, four— the fourth door. Come and play with me.” She shook her head, “There’s a mad person in your alley, Mama won’t let me go.” “What are you afraid of ? She won’t eat people.” Smiling, she still shook her head. When Niu-erh smiled, two dimples appeared under her eyes on both sides of her nose, really pretty, but Sung Ma actually had said to the keeper of the sundries store, “This child is real pretty, but appears somewhat ill-starred. Her eyes are too transparently bright, always seeming to be filled with water. Look, there are two tear-dimples under her eyes.” But I really liked her. I liked her gentleness, not like me when I am impatient and Sung Ma always scolds, “Jumping up and down again? Jumping again? Little thunder!” That day, after she had stood beside me for a little while, she said softly, “My dad is waiting for me to practice my singing. See you tomorrow!” I had met Niu-erh several times beside the well house and whenever I caught sight of her red cotton-padded jacket and trousers approaching, I felt a surge of happiness. But today, I waited for a long time without seeing her. I was very disappointed, I even hid a package of preserved plums in the pocket of my sweater to give her. I stuck my hand in to feel it. It was warm and sticky, the paper wrapping had been torn. I thought, when Sung Ma does the washing, I will certainly get a scolding.

Hui-an Hostel | 17

I felt very bored and started to walk back home. I wanted to tell Niu-erh a good idea of mine when I saw her today; she could take the Horizontal Hu-t’ung to reach our home so she would not need to pass Hui-an Hostel and be afraid of seeing the mad girl. I was thinking with my head lowered, and found I had reached the door of Hui-an Hostel. “Hey!” I was startled! It was the mad girl, biting her lower lip as she smiled at me. Her eyes were transparently clear and when she smiled, it was as Sung Ma had said, there were two dimples! I wanted to take a better look at her, as I had longed to for quite some time. Involuntarily, I began to walk up the stairs, drawn by her eyes. The sun shone on her face and brightened her usual pallid cheeks. The hand that was stuck in the pocket of her padded jacket stretched out to hold my hand, so warm, so soft. At that moment, I looked around the Hu-t’ung and there was not a single soul walking by. Strange, it was not the mad girl that I was afraid of now, but that people would see me holding hands with her. “How old are you?” she asked. “Uh ... six years old.” “Six!” She exclaimed in surprise, then bending her head, she suddenly pulled up my braids and looked at my neck, searching for something. “No.” She murmured to herself, then asked me,

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“Have you seen our Hsiao Kuei-tzu?”4 “Hsiao Kuei-tzu?” I didn’t understand what she was saying. Then her mother came out of the door, frowning as she anxiously said, “Hsiu-chen, don’t scare the little girl!” then turning to me, “Don’t listen to her nonsense! Go home, your ma will worry about you. Well ... do you hear?” As she talked, she waved her hand, telling me to go back. I lifted my head to look at the mad girl, now I knew that her name was Hsiu-chen. She held my hand, swaying it gently without letting me go. Her smile bolstered my courage and I said to the older woman. “No!” “Little southern barbarian!” Hsiu-chen’s mother also began to smile, gently tapping me on the forehead with the tip of her finger. This must be a derogative term, just like the way Papa would often remark to Mama, “Those northern devils.” “It doesn’t matter if you play here, but when somebody from your family comes looking for you, don’t blame our girl and say she had beckoned you to come in.” “I won’t say that!” Why should she have to tell me that? I knew very well what can be said and what cannot be said. Mama had ordered a gold bracelet made and hid it in a small jewelry box, I would never tell Papa that.

4

“Hsiao”means little, often used before a name in addressing younger people or children.

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“Come!” Hsiu-chen pulled me through the entrance. I thought we were going inside to the inner courtyard to play with those young uncles from the universities, but she took me into the gatehouse where they lived. Their home was not as bright as ours, the glass-paned window was very small and there was a large k’ang5 alongside the window, in the middle of which was a low table, piled with needlework and a sewing box. Hsiu-chen picked up an unfinished garment and measured it against me, then joyfully said to her mama who had just walked in to the room, “Ma, look, what did I say, it fits just right! Now to open the neckline.” Saying this, she picked up a string and measured my neck with it. I let her do what she wanted, while I kept my eyes on the picture on the wall, a plump fair-skinned baby without any clothes on, holding a big gold nugget, riding a huge red fish. Hsiu-chen, circling around until she was standing in front of me, saw me with my head tilted up and following my gaze, she also looked at the picture, and very matter-of-factly said, “If you wish to look, go up on the k’ang and see how fat our Hsiao Kuei-tzu is, she was only eight months old then, riding around the room on the big red fish, playing so hard she wouldn’t even eat, really naughty ...” “All right, that’s enough! No sense of shame!” Hsiu-chen was happily talking away and I was listening, somewhat confused, when Lao Wang came in and interrupted impatiently 5

A bed made of bricks that can be heated with a banked fire inside.

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as he glared at Hsiu-chen. Hsiu-chen, ignoring her father, urged me to take off my shoes and climb onto the k’ang, to get closer to the picture, and continued talking, “Not eating or wearing any clothes, always running around outside trying to find her dad. Never listening to me though I repeated myself so many times, I said wait until I’ve made some more clothes and put them on before going out! I’ve finished the shirt for this year, and the vest only needs to have the buttons sewn on. This padded jacket just needs to have the neckline cut out to be finished. What’s the hurry! Really puzzling, whatever is the matter ...” She went on and on until she stopped, lowering her head while she pondered in a daze. I thought to myself, was she playing house with me? Didn’t her mama say she was talking nonsense? If we were playing house, I had several toys, a little watch, a small abacus, and a tiny bell. I could bring those to play with. So I said, “Never mind, I’ll give the watch to Hsiao Kuei-tzu. When she has a watch she’ll come back home on time.” But then I remembered that Mama could be sending Sung Ma to look for me so I said, “I also have to go home now.” When Hsiu-chen heard I was leaving, she came out of her daze, and as she got off the k’ang with me, she said, “That would be good, thank you! If you see Hsiao Kuei-tzu tell her to come back because it’s cold outside. Just tell her that I won’t scold her, so she needn’t be afraid.” I nodded and promised her, as if there were actually a Hsiao Kuei-tzu and I knew her. As I was walking, I thought how much fun it was playing with Hsiu-chen like this; making believe that there was a

Hui-an Hostel | 21

Hsiao Kuei-tzu and even dressing her. Why didn’t people let their children play with Hsiu-chen? Why did they call her the “mad girl”? I turned my head to look backward and saw that Hsiu-chen was still leaning against the wall looking at me! I was so happy that I skipped and ran all the way home. Sung Ma was exchanging matches with an old woman and under the eaves of the house was a pile of wastebaskets, old shoes, and empty bottles. The minute I entered the house I went straight to the night table in front of my bed and took out the watch. A small, round gold watch with several shining diamonds, the hands of which were not moving any more. Mama said it should be fixed but had left it there. I liked this watch very much and often played with it so finally it became mine. I was standing in front of the three-drawered table playing with it when suddenly I overheard Sung Ma and the old woman saying something outside the window. I listened carefully. Sung Ma said, “And later?” “Later,” the old woman said, “the student left and up to now hasn’t come back! When he left he promised that as soon as he got back home he would sell his land and return in a month to marry her legally. Well, it’s been a six-year wait! What a pretty girl. I watched her slowly losing her mind ...” “What did they say? She gave birth to a baby?” “Yes! When the student left, the girl’s mother didn’t know that she was already expecting. It wasn’t until it became obvious that she was hurriedly sent back to the public land of Hai-tien to give birth.” “Public land?”

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“That’s their Hui-an’s public land. When the people from Hui-an die in Peking, they are always buried in their public land. The Wangs used to be caretakers of the cemetery in the public land ever since the girl’s grandfather’s time. It was only later that her father came here as a long term caretaker. Who could imagine such a thing would happen?” “Their family really has an affinity for Hui-nan. How far is it from here? How come he hasn’t returned?” “It’s really very far!” “Then what happened to the baby?” “The baby? As soon as it was born, they bundled it up and before daybreak they took it away and left it at the foot of the wall outside of Chi-hua Gate! Anyhow, if it wasn’t eaten by wild dogs, then someone must have taken it!” “And the girl became mad after that.” “Of course, since then she’s been mad! Her poor parents, this is the only child they have.” They both fell silent then. By that time I was already standing right by the doorway listening. Sung Ma was counting the boxes of Tan Fung brand red-tipped matches and the old woman, sniffling to keep her nose from running, stuffed all the waste paper into her huge basket. Sung Ma said, “Bring some shavings6 next time. Then ... you’re from the same region as the mad girl?” “We’re relatives! The mad girl’s mother is the third sister of my mother’s second brother. She’s still looking after the cemetery. How could they be mistaken?” 6

Wood shavings, after being soaked, were used for grooming hair.

Hui-an Hostel | 23

Sung Ma suddenly caught sight of me and exclaimed, “You’re eavesdropping again!” “I know who you’re talking about.” I said. “Who?” “Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s ma.” “Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s ma?” Sung Ma laughed uproariously. “Are you also crazy? Who’s Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s ma?” I also laughed out loud, I knew who Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s ma was!

2 ...... The weather had become much warmer and we had already taken off our cotton wool-padded clothes some time ago. We only needed to wear soft lightweight cotton wool-padded vests over our lined jackets in the chilly early morning and late evenings. When Hsiu-chen’s mother, Lao Wang Ma, saw the black leathered toe-patches on my new cloth shoes, she said, “These shoes are really solid, even if you kick our doorsill all to pieces, you won’t hurt your shoes!” I had already become very familiar with Hui-an Hostel, one of its doors always stood open so I could slip inside at any time. The reason I say “slip in” is because I always sneaked over without letting any one in my family know about it. They only knew that when Sung Ma went to the market I

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would often tag along to go and see Niu-erh. As soon as Sung Ma entered the sundries store, I would turn back and go to Hui-an Hostel. “Where’s Hsiu-chen?” “In the side courtyard.” “I’ll go and look for her,” I said. “Don’t need to, she’ll be back right away. Wait here and look at the goldfish.” I pressed my nose against the fish bowl to look inside. The goldfish were swimming around, drinking water as they swam, their mouths opening and shutting, gulping water. Unconsciously, my mouth also began to open and shut, imitating the fish. Sometimes when they swam toward me, separated only by the glass in between, our noses even met! I knelt on the k’ang, watching until my legs became numb yet Hsiu-chen did not come. I turned to sit on the edge of the k’ang and waited a little longer but Hsiu-chen still did not come. I grew impatient and slipping out of the room, I went to the side courtyard to find her. The door of that side courtyard seemed to be always shut and I had never seen anyone go in there. I gently pushed the door open and went in. There was a tree, covered with tiny green leaves, in the small yard. I did not recognize what it was. In a corner of the yard was a pile of fallen leaves, withered and dry, some had already rotted. Probably, Hsiuchen had been in the midst of sweeping but when I entered, she was leaning against the tree trunk with the broom in one hand while the other hand was lifting up a corner of

Hui-an Hostel | 25

her jacket to wipe her eyes. I walked silently to her side and looked up at her. Maybe she saw me, but ignoring me, she suddenly turned around and leaning against the tree trunk, began crying, “Hsiao Kuei-tzu, Hsiao Kuei-tzu, why don’t you want your ma any more?” Her voice was filled with grief, so pitiful. She sobbed, “Without me, how will you know the way? It’s so far!” I remembered Mama had said that we had come from our homeland far, faraway; an island surrounded by water. We came by a large steamship, then by train before arriving in Peking. I once asked Mama when we would be going back and she said not for a long time. It was so difficult coming over so we would have to stay for some years. So was the place that Hsiu-chen mentioned as faraway as our island? How could Hsiao Kuei-tzu have gone there all alone? I was sad for Hsiuchen, also longing for the Hsiao Kuei-tzu whom I didn’t even know. My tears began to fall. My tear-blurred eyes seemed to see that plump baby, riding on the huge red fish, without a single stitch on! With tears in my eyes, I took a deep breath, not wanting to burst out crying aloud. I tugged at Hsiu-chen’s trouser leg, calling her, “Hsiu-chen, Hsiu-chen!” She stopped sobbing, squatted down beside me, her face covered with tears, and hugged me, burying her face against my chest, rubbing back and forth, drying her tears on my soft cotton padded vest. Then she lifted her head to look at me

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and smiled. I stretched out my hand to smooth her ruffled bangs, saying impulsively, “I like you, Hsiu-chen.” Hsiu-chen did not say anything, just sniffled and stood up. The weather had become warmer so she no longer wore cotton wool-padded trousers bound tightly around the ankles but loosely flowing lightweight cotton ones. Were her legs that thin? When the wind blew against her trousers they seemed to flap so emptily. Her whole body was thin. When she had squatted down, leaning against my chest, I could see that her back was as flat as a board. Hsiu-chen pulled my hand, saying, “Let’s go inside and tidy things up.” There were only these two tiny rooms in the small side courtyard. As the door was pushed open, it made a terrible squeaking sound which felt like a thorn piercing one’s heart. Walking into this darkened room from the sunshine outside, it felt rather chilly. In the outer room was a neatly placed desk, a chair and a bookcase; all covered with dust. I thought to myself that we should have Sung Ma come and dust it with her feather duster, then the whole room would surely be filled with swirling dust. Papa often asked Mama why Sung Ma never used a moist cloth for dusting; whipping around with a feather duster, wouldn’t the dust settle in the same old place again? But Mama always asked Papa not to meddle, saying this was the custom in Peking. The inner room was even smaller with only a bed and a small side table. There was a trunk on the bed which Hsiu-chen

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opened, taking out a large cotton wool-padded gown. My papa also had one, but it was a man’s. Hsiu-chen clasped it to her breast, murmuring to herself. “Must redo it and add some more cotton batting.” She took the large padded gown into the garden to sun, and I followed her. She came back in and again I followed her. She asked me to help her carry the trunk into the garden to sun. There were only a pair of gloves, a felt hat and several old undershirts. She spread these things out very carefully, even picking out a striped shirt as she said to me, “I think this can only be used as a lining for a jacket for Hsiao Kuei-tzu.” “That’s right,” I pulled up my lined jacket to show her, “this is also from Papa’s old one.” “You also use your papa’s? How did you know this is Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s papa’s?” Hsiu-chen asked as she gazed at me smilingly. She was happy, so I was happy too, but how did I know this belonged to Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s father? I couldn’t answer her question, just tilted my head and smiled. But she chucked me under my chin, again asking, “Tell me!” We were both squatting beside the trunk and I could see her face very clearly, the bangs swept sideways by the wind. She looked like someone I knew but I could not remember who it was. I answered her, “I guessed. Well, ...” I asked in a lowered voice, “what should I call Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s father?” “Call him Younger Uncle.” “I already have a younger uncle.”

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“Can you have too many uncles? Just call him Uncle Szuk’ang. He is the third in his family so you can also call him Third Uncle.” “Third Uncle Szu-k’ang,” I repeated. “When will he come home?” “He,” Hsiu-chen suddenly stood up, head tilted, her brows knitted tightly in thought for quite sometime before saying, “Soon. He’s already been gone a couple of months.” As she spoke, she went into the room again and I followed her, puttering around, moving this and that. It was such fun following her around like this. By that time, Hsiu-chen’s face was flushed pink, with a smudge of dust on her cheeks and little beads of perspiration dotting the tip of her nose and upper lip. Her face was really pretty to look at. Hsiu-chen wiped the perspiration from her nose with her sleeve as she said to me, “Ying-tzu, do you know how to get me a basin of water? The room has to be mopped.” I quickly said, “I do, I do.” The house in the side courtyard was actually along the same side of the gatehouse, only with an extra door. The water vessel and the basin were placed right under the eaves of the gatehouse. I opened the lid of the water vessel and ladled some water into the basin, one ladle after another. I heard someone inside the room talking to Hsiu-chen’s ma, “Is the girl better these days?” “Don’t mention it, it’s begun again. Every year when spring comes, she’ll become disturbed for some time. These last few days, it’s spells of crying and laughing. What to do with her! Really ...”

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“This kind of illness always gets more severe in the springtime.” I carried the basin of water, and as I walked, it spilled and splashed all over me, so when I got to the room in the side courtyard, there was not much water left. As I placed the basin on the chair the smell of cooking suddenly wafted from somewhere. Smelling it, I suddenly remembered something and said to Hsiu-chen, “I have to go home.” Hsiu-chen did not hear me, continuing to rummage through the drawer. I had remembered that after going home to eat I was supposed to go and wait for Niu-erh at the Horizontal Hu-t’ung as we had planned yesterday. My trousers, cold and wet, stuck to my legs. The minute I entered the door, Mama scolded, “Playing at the well house all morning? I thought you might have fallen into the well. Just look at yourself, completely soaked!” As Mama spoke, she changed my clothing, and continued, “Better ask around and find out which is a good primary school here. I should send you to school now. I hear that the primary school of the Normal College at Ch’ang-tien is quite good.” It was only as Mama was saying this, that I saw Papa had already come home. I was afraid that Papa would scold and spank me for getting myself all wet. He was really fierce. Cowering, I looked at Papa, preparing myself for a spanking. But

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he did not notice. He was smoking a cigarette as he read the newspaper, and only commented absentmindedly, “It’s still early, what’s the hurry?” “If we don’t send her to school, she runs around the streets. I can’t watch her all the time.” “If she doesn’t listen, spank her!” Papa sounded very fierce, but then he turned toward me and smiled. So he was only scaring me! He continued, “The problem of Ying-tzu’s schooling can wait until her uncle comes. Let’s leave it up to him to decide.” After dinner, I went to the Horizontal Hu-t’ung and brought Niu-erh back with me. It wasn’t cold any more and we went to play in the empty room in the west courtyard where the unused stoves, stovepipes, tables, chairs and beds were stored. In an old rattan suitcase there were several little chicks, newly hatched, that we had just bought. Their soft yellow downy feathers were so appealing that Niu-erh and I squatted down beside the suitcase to play with them. We watched them pecking at the rice, always eating and never stopping! The little chicks could not eat enough but we had watched them long enough, so we closed the suitcase and stood up to play something else. Stringing two coins with a piece of twine and holding it in our hands, we began kicking them. At each kick, the coins would hit against the sides of our shoes with a ta-ta. As Niu-erh kicked, she twisted her waist so very gracefully.

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We played happily the whole afternoon and if Niu-erh did not have to go to practice singing who knows how long we would have continued playing. Today Papa bought a new brush pen and ink stick, also a whole batch of red-lettered calligraphy practice papers. That evening, under the kerosene lamp, he taught me how to trace over the red-lettered patterns after first reading the characters, Go walking two or three li,7 A village of four or five homes, With six or seven pavilions, Eight, nine or ten blossoms.

Papa said, “You must trace one page a day to be able to pass the exams for entering primary school after the summer vacation is over.” In the mornings I went to Hui-an Hostel to see Hsiu-chen, in the afternoons Niu-erh came to meet me in the western chamber, in the evenings I traced the red characters and that is how I spent my days. Tiny short wings sprouted from the yellow down of the little chicks. Niu-erh and I fed them rice, water and vegetables. Sung Ma said we should not overstuff their stomachs. She was also afraid that the wild cats might snatch them away so she placed a large stone on the lid of the rattan suitcase, not allowing us to open it up. 7

One li equals about one third of a mile.

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Whenever Niu-erh and I played together, we would often hum some snatches of songs. That day, she was happy and began to dance around, twisting and turning as she moved her hands in time with the words she sang, “... o ... o ... pening ... o ... opening the do ... o ... or, meeting Scholar Chang ... ai ... ai ...” “What are you singing? Is this what you call practicing singing?” I asked. “I’m singing the Flower Drum Song,” Niu-erh said. She was in high spirits, continuing to sing softly as she twisted and turned. I watched her as if in a trance. Suddenly, she called out to me, “Come, follow me. I’ll teach you.” “I can also sing a kind of song.” Not knowing exactly why, I felt I should also show off some talent of my own and suddenly remembered the rhyme that Papa sang one time when he had some friends over and then had taught me, although Ma commented that it was an inappropriate kind of rhyme to teach me. “Then sing, sing it!” Niu-erh urged, but I became somewhat shy. She insisted, so I began hesitantly to sing in Hakka, Listen ––– What am I thinking, thinking of my precious, Thinking so much of my precious, feeling so upset, I think of my precious, my precious also thinking, So its precious thinking of precious ...

I hadn’t even finished singing when Niu-erh laughed until tears streamed down her face. I also began to laugh, for those lyrics were really tongue twisting.

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“Who taught you that? All that precious thinking of precious, ha ha ha! From which country did this song come from?” We laughed so hard we fell into each other’s arms as we repeatedly chanted, “Precious, precious,”without any understanding of what it all meant. We were really happy; talking, singing and playing without a worry. The west chamber was our happy retreat which I would often think of, even in my dreams. Each time, before we had played enough, Niu-erh would suddenly look out the window and exclaim, “Have to go home now!” Then, without even a “good-bye,” she would race away. Suddenly, several days in a row, Niu-erh did not appear at our meeting place in the Horizontal Hu-t’ung. I stood there waiting and waiting, so disappointed. I slowly walked toward the well house, hoping to meet her but it was useless. In the afternoons, the well house was not that noisy because the water carts always came in the mornings, and only the people who lived nearby came with pails on their pushcarts to buy water. I saw Lao Wang going back and forth several times with his pushcart. When he saw me standing there so long, he asked me curiously, “Hsiao Ying-tzu, why are you standing here like a fool?” I did not say anything, keeping my thoughts to myself. I countered with, “Where’s Hsiu-chen?” I thought that if Niuerh did not come, I would go and find Hsiu-chen. The side courtyard was cleaned up so neatly. But Lao Wang did not pay any attention to me, and left after filling up two pails of water. I was just wondering what to do when suddenly a familiar figure came out from the corner of Hsi-ts’ao-ch’ang Hu-t’ung.

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It was Niu-erh. I was so happy and ran to meet her, calling out, “Niu-erh! Niu-erh!” To my surprise, she didn’t pay me any attention, just as if she didn’t know me or hadn’t heard me calling her. I was curious and followed her but she moved her hand slightly, motioning as she frowned and blinked at me, urging me to leave. I didn’t know what was going on but saw, a few steps behind her, a tall man in a blue cloth gown holding in his hand a long dirty cloth bag from which protruded the top of a chinese fiddle. I thought this must be Niu-erh’s father. Niu-erh would often say such things as, “I’m afraid Pa’ll beat me. I’m afraid my pa will scold me.” So now I understood the situation, and not saying anything more to Niu-erh, I turned and went home, feeling very sad. I had a piece of fossil stone in my pocket with which I could write on brick, and without any thought I began to draw a line along the wall of other people’s homes all the way to the wall of my home. I felt it was really dull not having Niu-erh to play with. Just as I was about to knock on the door, I heard the sound of running feet from the Horizontal Hu-t’ung. It was Niu-erh, breathing hard as she nervously said in a hurry, “I’ll come and see you tomorrow.” Then without waiting for me to reply, she ran back into the hu-t’ung again. Niu-erh came the next morning and we went to the west chamber to look at the little chicks. Lifting up the lid of the rattan suitcase, we both stretched our hands in to stroke their feathers without saying a single word. I wanted to speak but did not say anything, only voicing my question inwardly, “Niu-erh,

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why haven’t you come for so many days? Is it because your pa is very strict and would not let you come? Why wouldn’t you let me talk to you yesterday, Niu-erh? Niu-erh, something must have been upsetting you?” It was really strange, all this remained unspoken, so how could she have known and answered me with her tears. She didn’t say anything, not even wiping her eyes with her sleeve, just letting her tears drip, drop by drop, into the suitcase, and together with the rice, eaten by the little chicks. I didn’t know what to do. From the side, I could see that her ear, the lobe of which was pierced and threaded through with a piece of red thread, had not been washed clean as there was a rim of dirt around it. As my eyes followed her shoulder down to her wrist I saw a bruise, and stretching out my hand, I pulled up her sleeve. This startled her and as she hurriedly drew back, she turned her head toward me with a sad smile. The morning sun shone into the west chamber, shining directly onto her not-too-clean face, her long wet lashes that flickered, causing the tears to flow past her dimples down to the corners of her mouth. Suddenly, she stood up and pulling her sleeve and the leg of her trousers, she said softly, “See how my pa beat me up!” I was squatting down, and stretching out my hand I could just feel the line after line of bruises that covered her leg. Although I touched them very gently, it made her break out crying. She didn’t dare cry out loud, just a low sobbing. It was truly pitiful. I said, “Why did your pa beat you?”

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She could not answer for a long while, then said, “He doesn’t allow me to come out and play.” “Is it because you stayed too long at my home?” Niu-erh nodded. She was beaten up because she had played too long with me. I felt bad, and also afraid. Thinking of that tall big man, I couldn’t help but say, “You’d better go home quickly!” She stood there without moving and said, “He left early this morning and has not returned as yet.” “Then, what about your mother?” “My ma pinches me, but she doesn’t mind my going out. Pa also beats her, and when he does, she then pinches me, saying that it’s all because of me.” After crying for some time, Niu-erh felt better and began to chatter about this and that. I said I had never seen her mother and she told me that her ma was slightly crippled and always sat on the k’ang, sewing and mending clothes to earn some money. I told Niu-erh that we didn’t use to live in Peking, and that we came from a faraway island. She also said, “We didn’t live here before, we used to lived at Chi-hua Gate.” “Chi-hua Gate?” I nodded, “I know the place.” “How come you also know of Chi-hua Gate?” Niu-erh questioned in surprise. I could not remember how I happened to know but I really did. It seemed that someone had taken me there early one

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morning, and it also seemed that I had seen what it looked like. No, no, that was not so. What I had seen was kind of blurred, maybe it was a dream? So I answered Niu-erh, “I dreamt of that place, is there a city wall? One day, very early in the morning, there was a woman, with a bundle in her arms, who walked stealthily toward the wall ...” “Are you telling a story?” “Maybe it’s a story,” I tilted my head and thought hard. “Anyhow, I know about Chi-hua Gate.” Niu-erh smiled, reaching out to hug me and I also put my arm around her neck to hug her. But when I touched her shoulder, she exclaimed softly, “It hurts. It hurts!” I quickly loosened my hold as she said with a frown, “He even lashed me here until it became swollen!” “What did he lash you with?” “The duster.” After a while, she said, “My pa, also my ma, hey ...” but then she stopped and did not continue. “What about them?” “Nothing, tell you next time.” “I know, your pa teaches you to sing opera, so that you can make money for them to spend.” I had heard Sung Ma telling Mama this once and suddenly blurted it out. “They want you to earn money for them but also beat you up. How can they do that! Why?” As I talked, I became more and more indignant. “Uh-huh, you seem to know everything, I’m not talking to you about singing, how can you know what I was going to say!” “What was it you wanted to say? Tell me!”

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“You’re in such a hurry, I won’t say it. If you become my good friend I’ve so much to tell you but you mustn’t tell anyone, not even your ma.” “I won’t. We can talk in a whisper.” Niu-erh hesitated for a second, then leaning over, whispered hurriedly in my ear, “I wasn’t born by my ma, neither is Pa my real one.” She said it so quickly, like a flash of lightning, and like a thunderbolt it made my heart skip a beat. When she finished talking, she moved her hand from my ear and stared at me with huge eyes, as if waiting to see my reaction to what she had said. And I just stared right back at her, completely speechless. Although I had promised Niu-erh not to tell her secret, I kept thinking about it after she had left; and the more I thought the more worried I became. Suddenly, I ran up to Mama and dazedly asked, “Ma, did you give birth to me?” “What?” Ma looked at me in surprise. “How did you think of asking such a question?” “Just say yes or no, that’s all.” “Yes, how could it not be yes?” Ma paused, then said, “If you weren’t my own, could I care for you like this? As naughty as you are, I would have beaten you up long ago.” I nodded, what Mama said was very true, just think of Niuerh! “How was I born?” I had long wanted to ask this question. “How were you born, uh ...” Ma thought a while, then smiled and raising her arm, she pointed to her armpit, saying,

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“You fell out from here.” After saying that, both she and Sung Ma burst out laughing.

3 ...... With an empty bottle and a pair of bamboo chopsticks in my hands, I walked quietly into Hui-an Hostel and pushed open the door to the side courtyard. As I expected, there were indeed many green worms8 dangling from the branches of the acacia tree standing in the middle of the yard. Hsiu-chen said they were hanging ghosts and like the silkworms that she kept, they also would spin out a thin silk thread to hang from the branches of the tree. I placed the hanging ghosts, one by one, into my bottle to take back and feed the chicks. Each day I could collect a whole bottle full. Those hanging ghosts wriggling around in the bottle were really creepy-looking. Holding the bottle full of them, my arm often would feel a ticklish numbness as if they had climbed out of the bottle on to my arm but was actually not so. As I was putting a hanging ghost into the bottle, I suddenly thought of Niu-erh and felt very uneasy. She had been beaten again yesterday and had come stealthily to see me with two pieces of her clothing. The minute she had entered the door she said,
“I’m going to look for my real mother and father!” 8

The grub worm stage from which the diamondback moth develops.

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One side of her face was all red and swollen. “Where are they?” “I don’t know, I’ll go to Chi-hua Gate and look for them.” “Where is Chi-hua Gate?” “Didn’t you say you also know that place?” “I said that it seems that I’d dreamed of the place.” Niu-erh stuffed her clothes into an empty suitcase in the west chamber, wiped her eyes with a determined gesture and stated angrily, “I must find my own father.” “Do you know what he looks like?” I truly admired her but felt that this was much too big an affair. “I’ll search day after day, and I’ll find my own parents. I know in my heart what they’ll look like.” “Then ...” I didn’t know what to say because I didn’t have any ideas at all. Before Niu-erh left she said she wasn’t sure when she would run away but would certainly come to let me know, and to pick up the clothes she was leaving here. I was thinking of Niu-erh’s problem all day yesterday and felt very upset. I couldn’t eat my dinner and Mama, feeling my forehead, said, “Seems a little feverish, maybe it’s better not to eat, and go to bed early.” After I went to bed, I still didn’t feel well, but was unable to say anything so I began to cry. Ma was very surprised and asked, “What’re you crying for? Where does it hurt?” I don’t

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know why but I began sobbing, “Niu-erh’s papa ...” “Niu-erh’s papa? What’s the matter? What has her papa to do with you?” Sung Ma also came in and spoke out, “No!” I suddenly realized I had said something foolish so put on a tantrum, shouting, “I want my papa!” “So it’s your papa that you want! Scaring people!” Sung Ma and Mama began to laugh. Mama said, “Your papa went to see your uncle today and will not be back until later, you go to sleep first!” She then said to Sung Ma. “Ying-tzu has been spoiled by her papa. From the time she was born, whenever she doesn’t feel well, her papa will let her sleep in his arms.” “Aren’t you ashamed?” Sung Ma brushed my cheek with her finger but I ignored her and turning my face toward the wall, I closed my eyes. I felt much better when I got up this morning, not as upset as I was yesterday. But now I thought of Niu-erh again and involuntarily stopped picking the worms, languorously wondering when Niu-erh would be leaving me. I threw the bottle under the tree, walked toward the window and looked in. Hsiu-chen was sitting on a square stool in the inner room, facing the bed so I could only see her thin flat back and her braid which was still disheveled. She motioned with her hands, waving as if to chase away a fly, but actually there was no fly. I entered noiselessly and leaning against the

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desk in the outer room, I gazed fixedly at her to see what she was doing, but only overheard her muttering, “I know you went to sleep without eating any supper, didn’t you? How could you do that!” How strange. How did Hsiu-chen know that I went to bed last night without eating my supper? Leaning against the doorframe of the inner room, I asked, “Who told you that?” “Huh?” She turned around and seeing my worried look, she said in a serious manner, “Do I need anyone to tell me? This bowl of rice gruel porridge has not been touched at all!” and pointed to the bowl and a pair of chopsticks on the table beside the bed. It was only then that I realized that Hsiu-chen was not talking about me. Ever since the weather began to turn warm and the gate to the side courtyard that was always closed had been opened, Hsiu-chen began going in and out of these two rooms all day long, chattering about things that I understood, yet did not really comprehend. In the beginning I thought that Hsiu-chen was playing house with me. It was only later that I began to feel that it was not play-acting. It was actually too real! Hsiu-chen gazed vacantly at the empty bed for a while, then turning around, she gently drew me out of the room, whispering, “He’s asleep, let him sleep! This illness has really been hard on him, as he is all alone without any family here!” On the table in the outer room was the bowl of goldfish which had been bought that spring. Several of the goldfish were already dead, yet Hsiu-chen still continued to change

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the water every day, even putting in a few sprays of green water-ferns. It was fun to watch the red goldfish swimming in and out among the green ferns. How did I know that the fish was red and the ferns were green? Mama had taught me as she said that I would be taking the entrance tests for primary school and the teacher would ask me to identify colors, where I lived, and how many people there were in my family. Hsiuchen also had a box of silkworms. She once said to me, “You’re going to go to school, Hsiao Kuei-tzu should also be going to school. I’m feeding these silkworms so when they begin to spin silk I can use it to fill Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s ink-box.”9 Several of the silkworms were already spinning silk and Hsiu-chen placed them on a paper-covered cup so they could spit out the silk on the paper. It was truly fascinating. The silkworms were very well behaved and never crawled down from the cup. The other silkworms were still munching mulberry leaves. Hsiu-chen was cleaning up the silkworms’ excrement, putting each particle into a metal box. She already had collected quite a lot and was going to use them to fill up a pillow for Third Uncle Szu-k’ang. Since he studied hard every day, he needed to take care of his eyes and the silkworms’ excrement was good for clear eyesight. I stood there, silently looking at the goldfish and the silkworms spinning silk. The trees in the courtyard stood right 9

Boxes that are padded with silk, then filled with Chinese ink, used for writing Chinese calligraphy with a brush pen.

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outside the window so the room was very shady and cool. We did not even dare to talk in a loud voice, as if there were actually a sick person lying on the bed. Hsiu-chen suddenly asked me, “Ying-tzu, do you remember what I have told you?” I could not immediately think of what she was talking about because she had told me too many things both real and unreal. She had said that in the future she wanted Hsiao Kueitzu to go to school with me. Hsiao Kuei-tzu would also take the entrance tests to Ch’ang-tien Primary School. She also had told me the way to go home from school was to go by the Liuli-ch’ang Road until I reached Ch’ang-hsi Gate, then when I see the pair of huge reindeer antlers in the glass window of Lei Wan-ch’un Medicine Shop at Lu-chi-chiao Hu-t’ung then I should turn into Ch’un-shu Hu-t’ung and I would reach home. But, she had also said that she would take Hsiao Kuei-tzu and go look for Third Uncle Szu-k’ang. She had finished sewing some clothes and shoes which she had already finished packing. What I remember most clearly was what Hsiu-chen had told me about the birth of Hsiao Kuei-tzu. One day early in the morning I slipped over to find Hsiu-chen. She saw that my braids had not yet been combed so she got out her toilet box and took out a buffalo horn comb, a bone hairpin for parting the hair and some red wool yarn, then loosening my hair, she began combing slowly. She was sitting on the chair with me on a small stool in between her knees, my arms resting on her thighs so my hands touched her knees, the bones of which were like two pointed stones; she was terribly thin. My back

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was toward her as she asked me, “Ying-tzu, in which month were you born?” “Me? Mama told me I was born in the springtime when it’s neither cold nor hot, and the grass and the leaves begin to sprout. What about Hsiao Kuei-tzu?” Hsiu-chen would always immediately think of Hsiao Kuei-tzu in connection with anything to do with me, so I also suddenly thought of her. “Hsiao Kuei-tzu,” Hsiu-chen said, “was born in the autumn when it’s neither cold nor hot, and the grass is yellowing and the leaves begin to fall. But, at that time, the cassia flowers are fragrant, have you smelled them? It smells just like this cassia oil that I am putting on your hair.” She waved her hand in front of my nose. “Hsiao ... Kuei ... tzu.” As I sniffed and smelled the oil, I articulated the name, word by word, and it seemed that I was beginning to understand a little. Hsiu-chen cried out happily, “That’s right, that’s why Hsiao Kuei-tzu was given this name.”10 “How come I have not seen the cassia tree? Which of the trees here is the cassia?” I asked. “She wasn’t born in this house!” Hsiu-chen had begun plaiting my hair, pulling so tightly that it hurt. I said, “Why are you using so much strength?” “It would have been good if I had had as much strength as this at that time. After giving birth to Hsiao Kuei-tzu, I was completely weak and slept in a kind of stupor. When I 10

The Chinese name for the cassia flower is kuei-hua.

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woke up, Hsiao Kuei-tzu was no longer beside me. When I was sleeping I’d heard her crying, so how come when I woke up she wasn’t there? I asked, ‘Where’s the baby?’ My ma was going to say something when my aunt, darting a glance at my ma, interrupted, saying gently, ‘You’re too weak and the child was crying beside you so I took it to my room.’ I said, ‘Oh,’ then fell asleep again.” Hsiu-chen stopped talking as she finished plaiting my hair, then continued, “I seemed to hear my ma saying to my aunt, ‘We can’t let her know.’ It’s really bewildering. What’s it all about? How come I could not remember what followed after that? Did they give the child ... ? or threw ... No, that cannot be! Cannot be!” I had already stood up, and turned around to look at Hsiuchen. She was frowning, thinking as if in a half stupor. She would often suddenly stop while talking, then murmur, “It’s really bewildering, what’s it all about?” As she was putting things back into the toilet box, I saw the watch that I had given Hsiao Kuei-tzu. She picked it up and placed it in her palm, saying, “Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s father also had a large pocket watch. When it broke, it was pawned off. And it was only after it was pawned that he could go back home. No need to say how poor he was! At that time, I didn’t tell him that I was already going to have it as he would be coming back in a month or two. He told my ma not to worry, that after he went back and sold the piece of land at the foot of the mountain, he would come back to Peking to marry me. So many thousands of miles away, it wasn’t an easy trip to make and if I had told

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him, it would have only caused him more worries. You don’t know how deeply he cared! Neither did I tell my ma, I just couldn’t. Anyhow, I already belonged to him so to wait and tell him after we were married would not be too late ...” “What were you going to have?” I didn’t understand. “Have Hsiao Kuei-tzu!” “Didn’t you just say that you didn’t have anything?” I was even more puzzled. “Having, not having, having, Hsiao Ying-tzu, why are you mixing me all up? Just listen while I tell you everything.” She put away the watch that I gave Hsiao Kuei-tzu, then counted off all the things she wished to tell me with her fingers, “He left in spring. The day he left was a beautiful day. Holding his suitcase he didn’t even dare to look at me too many times. Several of his classmates from his home province came to see him off so he couldn’t very well say anything more to me. It was just as well that the night before when I was packing for him, we had already said almost everything that had to be said. He told me that it was very hard living in Hui-an, that all those who had a chance had left for other places to make a living. The land was not rich for planting things, only white sweet potatoes grew plentifully. His family would eat white sweet potatoes all year round––white sweet potato rice, white sweet potato gruel, dried white sweet potatoes, shredded white sweet potatoes, sliced white sweet potatoes. It would cause anyone who came from outside their area to shed tears as they ate their fill of it. Thus, he did not have the heart to let a northerner like me go and suffer there.

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I agreed, saying that since I was my ma’s only daughter, she would not be able to let me go. He said I was a filial daughter, but he was also a filial son; what if his mother kept him and refused to let him come back to Peking again? I said that I would then go after him. “After seeing him to the gate and watching him get on the rickshaw, I lifted my head to look at the sky. There was a white cloud, like a boat, moving toward the horizon. It was as if I were on the boat, my heart floating as if it no longer belonged to anyone. “After I came back from seeing him off, I felt like vomiting, also very dizzy. I regretted somewhat that I hadn’t told him about this. I wanted to run after him but it was already too late. “I endured the passing days, one day after another, and he never came back. As my belly grew larger, I couldn’t hide it from my ma any more. She questioned me urgently and I didn’t know what to say, but since I no longer could consider remaining shy about it, I just told Ma. I said that he would come back one day. If he didn’t, then I would go! My ma put her hand over my mouth saying bluntly, Hsiu-chen, don’t talk like that. This is shameful! If he really doesn’t come back, we cannot let this matter get known. And it was like this that they sent me back to Hai-tien. “It was a difficult birth. I had no strength at all, but smelling the fragrance of the cassia flowers drifting in from outside my window, I thought to myself that if it were a girl I would name her Hsiao Kuei-tzu. The midwife told me to bite on my

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braid and use all my strength, and finally the baby came out. Wa ... Wa ... Wa, crying really loud!” Hsiu-chen took a deep breath here, her face turned greenish-white. Unable to continue her story, she began talking casually, “Hsiao Ying-tzu, don’t you feel sorry for your third aunt?” “Who is Third Aunt?” “I am! You address Szu-k’ang as Third Uncle, so you address me as Third Aunt. You can’t even get that clear! Call me.” “Ha ...” I laughed, feeling a little shy but I did so, “Third Aunt, Hsiu-chen.” “If you see Hsiao Kuei-tzu you just bring her back.” “How do I know what Hsiao Kuei-tzu looks like?” “She ...” Hsiu-chen closed her eyes, thinking before continuing, “a plump little roly-poly, very fair. I had a look at her when she was born. While I was dazedly sleeping, I heard Ma saying to the old midwife, ‘Look! this is truly retribution, there’s a bluish mark right in the middle of her nape. She shouldn’t have come but insisted on coming, so the King of Hell, in anger, used his finger to push her into the world!’ Hsiao Ying-tzu, if there’s a bluish mark on the middle of her nape, that’s our Hsiao Kuei-tzu. Will you remember that?” “I’ll remember.” I answered muddleheadedly. Then, was it this that she was asking me if I remembered or not? I answered, “I remember, isn’t it about Hsiao Kueitzu’s bluish mark?” Hsiu-chen nodded.

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Hsiu-chen put away the box of silkworms, again saying to me. “While he’s sleeping, let’s dye our fingernails.” She pulled me into the yard. There were several pots of flowers at the foot of the wall and she pointed them out to me, “This is the peppermint-leaf plant, this is the fingernail plant.” She picked a few of the red blossoms on the fingernail plant and putting them into a small porcelain dish, went to sit on the step of the doorway. Using a piece of rock sugar, she gently mashed the red flowers. I asked her, “Is this to eat? You’re adding rock sugar?” Hsiu-chen giggled, saying, “Silly girl, you only know how to eat. This is alum, not rock sugar! You just watch!” After she had mashed up the red flowers, she told me to stretch out my hands. Then she took a hairpin from her hair, picked up the mashed-up stuff and piled them on my nails, one after another, telling me to keep my fingers stretched out, and not to move. She said that when they dried, my nails would become red, just like hers. She stretched out her hand to show me. After a while, I already felt impatient keeping my hands stretched out and said, “I want to go home.” “If you go home now it’ll all be spoilt. Don’t go, I’ll tell you a story.” “I want to hear Third Uncle’s story.” “Lower your voice.” She whispered, motioning to me, “Let

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me go and see if he’s wakened up and if he wants a drink of water.” She went in for a moment, then came out again. After she sat down, she placed her elbow on her knees and cupping her chin in her hand, gazed emptily at the acacia tree. “Why don’t you say something!” I urged. “Uh?” She was startled, apparently not having heard my question. Then the tears began to fall. “What’s there to say, there’s no one, not even a shadow of anyone. Neither old nor young!” I kept quiet. She sobbed a while, then taking a deep breath, looked at me and smiled. Those dimples! I had a feeling I had seen Hsiu-chen somewhere before, this very same face. Hsiu-chen wiped away her tears, then pulled my hands over so that they could rest in her palms. This was a relief as my hands with the painted nails felt tired stretched out in midair. She again turned to look at the doorway of the courtyard, as if looking at someone. She murmured to herself, “It was during this season that he came, moving into this small house with a roll of bedding and a suitcase. He had on a long grey gown with a pen clipped on to the lapel. I had not finished cleaning up the place yet! Dad brought him in, saying, ‘All the rooms in Hui-an Hostel are full, Second Master Chen instructed that these two rooms be prepared for you.’ He answered, ‘Good, this is very good.’ As Dad opened up his bedroll and spread out the thin old quilt, I thought to myself, how will he be able to survive the freezing cold of Peking?

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Hsiao Ying-tzu, how many of the students who live here have any money? Those who do have money go and live in public housing. My dad often said that when Second Master Chen came to Peking to take the official exams, he even brought a young page boy with him to take care of the brush pens and ink slab. When Second Master Chen passed the exams and became an official in Peking, he had this hostel renovated. Now, whenever poor students come here to study they always look to Second Master Chen. Second Master said that since Szu-k’ang was a poor student from his home village and could become a good scholar, we should clean up these two small rooms which were used for dumping coal for him to live in. “I was still hurrying to wash the windowpanes, and did not even glance at him. My dad told him that this quilt would not be adequate for the winter! Dad really likes to nose around other people’s affairs. He must have felt embarrassed for he just hummed and hawed, not saying anything. Dad also asked him which school he was going to and he answered Peking University. Huh! Dad again remarked that it was really faraway, but it’s a good school! “After he had helped him put away his few shoddy belongings, Dad prepared to leave but seeing me still cleaning the windows, he said, ‘That’s enough, girl.’ As I followed him out, I glanced back at him. How could I have known that he would be gazing straight at me! My heart jumped and I almost fell over the threshold! Looking at him, I found that his eyes were so very penetrating! Before you even had a good look at him, he had already seen right through you. After returning home,

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whether eating or sleeping, I would always see those eyes of his looking at me. This is indeed fate. All year round, there were so many university students coming and going at Huian Hostel, how come I ... I just ...” Hsiu-chen’s face was slightly flushed as she lifted my hands to see if my nails had dried. She gently blew on my nails, her eyes lowered so her lashes were like tiny screens, and asked me, “Hsiao Ying-tzu, do you understand fate?” She didn’t actually want me to answer and I didn’t care to do so; only thinking to myself, there is someone else who has such long lashes. I thought of my friend in the west chamber who often cried. Hsiu-chen continued, “Every day I would take him some hot water. This was originally my dad’s duty. Twice a day, morning and night, we would boil a huge pot of water and take some to each room for the students to wash their face or make tea with. Dad was used to going to the main courtyard and always forgot the side courtyard. Sometimes, Szu-k’ang would come to our window to ask for some. He would call out in a low voice, ‘Caretaker, is there any boiling water?’ Then Dad would remember and hurry to take some over to him. Sometimes Dad would remember without being reminded, but he didn’t care to go over again so he told me to go. After several times, taking water to the side courtyard seemed to have become my duty. “Each time I took water in, I never said a word to him. He would be sitting before the desk, studying and writing under the lamplight. I would go in, face set and unsmiling, take off the lid of the teapot, and the only sound would be the water

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pouring in. He was very timid, not even daring to glance sideways but kept his eyes lowered. One day, I was curious and took a step forward, bending slightly to see what he was writing. Unexpectedly, he also turned his head and asked, ‘Can you read?’ I shook my head. From then on, we began talking to each other.” “Where was Hsiao Kuei-tzu then?” I suddenly thought of the one most closely related to Hsiu-chen. “Oh!” Hsiu-chen laughed, “There wasn’t even a shadow of her then! Oh yes, where has she gone? Have you looked for her? She’s the lifeline of our lives! I haven’t finished telling you yet, one day he took hold of my hand, just the way I’m holding yours now, and said, ‘Come and be mine!’ He had been drinking a little and I also felt dazed. He drank to keep himself warm for only occasionally was there a small fire in the two little rooms. The wind was blowing so hard that day that it rattled the door. My dad and ma had gone back to Hai-tien to collect the land rent, my aunt came to keep me company. When she went to sleep, I slipped out and came to the side courtyard. His face, burning hot, was pressed against my cheek and as he talked to me, the smell of the wine also intoxicated me. “He often liked to drink a little wine to chase away the cold so I would stealthily buy some unshelled dried peanuts for him to enjoy with the wine. The sound of the north wind blowing against the paper windowpanes was like the sound of a flute. Holding hands, the two of us were warmed and no longer felt cold.

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“When he fell ill, I was running back and forth so many times, I could no longer deceive my ma. That day when I was preparing to take a bowl of congee to him, Ma said, ‘My girl, better avoid arousing any suspicions. Understand?’ I didn’t say anything.” From Hsiu-chen’s eyes, it seemed that I could see Third Uncle Szu-k’ang lying moaning on the bed in the room, his hair all messed up, too weak to drink or eat. “Then after that? Did he get well?” I couldn’t help asking. “If not, how could he leave? But I collapsed! It was Hsiao Kuei-tzu coming.” “Where?” I turned my head to look at the door of the side courtyard and there was no one. In my imagination, there should be a little girl standing beside the doorway, dressed in a red flowered print cotton suit, with a brownish braid like a dog’s tail, two large eyes and long lashes fluttering as she waved to me! I felt somewhat dizzy as if I would fall. I shut my eyes and when I opened them again, there was indeed a shadowy object by the door, approaching closer and closer, a large figure––it was actually Hsiu-chen’s ma motioning to me as she said, “Hsiu-chen, why are you letting Hsiao Ying-tzu sit here under the sun?” “There wasn’t any sun here a little while ago.” Hsiu-chen replied. “Hurry and move, isn’t there some shade over here?” Her ma came over and pulled me up. The illusion disappeared and I suddenly remembered that Hsiu-chen had not finished with her story. I said,

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“Niu-erh, no, Hsiao Kuei-tzu, where was she? You were just saying?” Hsiu-chen giggled, pointing to her stomach, “Here, wasn’t born yet!” Hsiu-chen’s ma came into the courtyard to hang up some clothes for sunning. There was a rope strung out from the branch of a tree to the side of the wall on which she hung the clothes one-by-one. Watching her, Hsiu-chen said, “Ma, the pants should be hung over there by the wall, otherwise it isn’t convenient for Szu-k’ang to come in and out.” Wang Ma scolded, “Mind your own business!” Hsiu-chen not at all angry at being scolded by her ma, said to me, “My ma is quite fond of Szu-k’ang. She said to Dad, ‘Since we don’t have a son and you, old creature, had never had any book learning, it would be good to have someone in the family who could read and write.’ So my dad gave his consent. What was I saying? Oh, he got well, then I fell sick. Then he said it was all his fault, didn’t he say that he wanted to marry me, to teach me how to read? Just then, a telegram came from his home saying his mother was sick and told him to hurry back ...” “Hsiao Ying-tzu,” Wang Ma suddenly interrupted Hsiuchen, “how come you like to listen to her rambling nonsense? It’s strange, children are all afraid of her and avoid her, you’re the only one who isn’t.” “Ma, don’t interrupt, I haven’t finished yet! I still have something to ask Hsiao Ying-tzu!”

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Lao Wang Ma ignored her, just continued saying to me, “Hsiao Ying-tzu, you should go home, I just heard Sung Ma calling for you outside in the hu-t’ung, I didn’t dare tell her you were here.” As soon as she finished speaking, Lao Wang Ma picked up her empty basin and left. It was only after seeing her mother go out the doorway of the courtyard, that Hsiu-chen said, “Szuk’ang has left ...” She counted her fingers, “it’s been over a month already, over six years. No, he’ll be back in another month, no ... in another month I’ll give birth to Hsiao Kuei-tzu.” No matter whether it was six years or a month, Hsiu-chen was like me, unable to figure clearly. Then holding up my hands, she looked at them, then peeled off the dried-up petals from my nails. Oh, my nails were all red! I was very happy and kept laughing and laughing as I waved my hands around. “Hsiao Ying-tzu,” she continued in a very low voice, “I have something to ask of you. When you see Hsiao Kuei-tzu, tell her to come and we’ll go together to look for her dad. If we can find her dad, my illness will be cured.” “What illness?” I gazed at Hsiu-chen’s face. “Ying-tzu, everyone says I’m crazy. Do you think I’m crazy? Crazy people go around picking things up from the ground to eat, hitting out at people; how can I be crazy? Do you think I’m crazy?” “No,” I shook my head. Truly, I only felt that Hsiu-chen was so lovable and pitiful. All she wanted was to find her Szuk’ang and Niu-erh ... no, and Hsiao Kuei-tzu. “Why did they both go away and not come back?” I asked.

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“Szu-k’ang must have been kept back by his mother. As to Hsiao Kuei-tzu, I’m also puzzled; she isn’t at Hai-tien, nor is she at my aunt’s home. When I ask, Ma gets upset, saying, ‘Thrown away! Why should the seed of a southern barbarian be kept? Anyway, he isn’t coming back again. So aggravating!’ When I heard this, I immediately fainted and when I woke up again they all said I was crazy. Hsiao Ying-tzu, I beg of you, when you see Hsiao Kuei-tzu, bring her to me. I’ve prepared everything. You’d better go home.” I felt dazed, as if there were a picture inside my head expanding slowly, growing larger and larger; my head also felt strange. “All right, all right,” I said, as I ran out of the side courtyard, out of Hui-an Hostel, and looking at my red nails, I kicked at the pebbles all the way back home.

4 ...... “Look at your face, all red from the sun! Hurry, come eat your lunch.”Although Ma saw me coming back with my forehead covered with sweat, she didn’t scold me too much. But I only wanted to drink water, didn’t feel like eating. Breathlessly, I gulped down several cups of cold water before sitting down at the table. I picked up my chopsticks but kept looking at my nails. “Who dyed your nails for you?” Ma asked. “Little fox fairy, children shouldn’t dye their nails! You shouldn’t do that!” Papa was also a little angry.

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“Uh ...” I thought a minute. “Third Aunt Szu-k’ang.” I did not dare, nor did I wish to say that Hsiu-chen was crazy. “Running around outside, addressing all kinds of people as uncles and aunts!” Ma served me a dish of food as she continued, “Your uncle said that the entrance exams to primary school will be in another month, how much can you count up to? If you don’t know how to count you won’t be able to pass the exams.” “One, two, three ... eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-six ...” I wanted to put down my chopsticks and go lie down on the bed for a while. But I didn’t do so for then they would say that I was sick and not let me go out and play. “You’re all muddled up!” Ma glared at me. “Listen to me while I count for you, erh-su, erh-su-lu-yi, erh-su-lu-erh, erh-sulu-san ...” Sung Ma, standing on the side to help serve us, was the first to begin laughing, then Pa and I both burst out laughing. I took the opportunity to throw down my chopsticks, saying, “Ma, your Pekingese spoils my appetite; it’s erh-shih, not erhsu; erh-shih-yi, not erh-su-lu-yi; erh-shih-erh, not erh-su-lu-erh ...” Ma also began to laugh, saying, “All right, all right, don’t imitate me any more.” Pa and Ma didn’t notice that I didn’t eat anything. Probably because of having drunk all that cold water, my head no longer felt dizzy. Papa and Ma went to take a noon nap and I walked into the garden to sit on the stool under the tree and watch the flock of small chicks that had been let out of their pen. They had grown much bigger and were pecking at the rice on the ground. In the tree, a cicada was chirping. It was

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very quiet. I picked up a branch, and was drawing randomly on the ground when I saw a chick eating a worm and suddenly remembered the bottle of hanging ghosts that I had forgotten to bring back with me. Although I thought of it, I was too listless to stand up, feeling somewhat drowsy. Involuntarily, my eyes closed as I bent over and buried my head in my arms clasped around my knees. I seemed to be dreaming in a state of semi-sleep, everything was all blurred. I was catching worms under the tree in the side courtyard. Those hanging ghosts wriggling in the bottle suddenly became the silkworms that Hsiu-chen kept on the table in her room. They were spinning silk with lifted heads and it seemed that Hsiu-chen had placed them on her arm letting them crawl there. It was ticklish, and my head lifted as my eyes popped open to see two flies on my arms. I waved my hands to drive them away, then buried my head again in sleep. This time, there was a basin of cold water pouring down my neck, all the way down my shoulders and back. It was so cold. I hugged my head tightly, it wasn’t of any use, another basin of water came down my neck, so cold and wet. I said, “So cold!” Someone was giggling and I struggled to get up. I suddenly woke up, not knowing what time it was, for the day seemed to have darkened. I remembered that when I had sat down here, it was bright sunlight! It was Niu-erh standing in front of me, laughing. I still felt that my shoulders were cold and wet but when I touched them with my hand, they were not wet at all. But I still felt cold and shivered, then sneezed twice. Niu-erh stopped smiling, and said,

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“What’s the matter? You seem dazed. You kept talking in your sleep.” I wasn’t fully awake yet and was unable to stand firmly on my feet. I quickly sat down again. At that moment, there was a sound of thunder rolling in from the distance. The sky in front of us darkened as if splashed with black ink; the dark clouds following the thunder seemed like a troop of black devils striding down from the heavens. A wind had risen, no wonder I felt chilled. Without knowing, I asked Niu-erh, “Are you cold? Why am I so cold!” Niu-erh shook her head as she looked at me startled, asking, “You look really strange, as if you had been frightened or beaten up!” “No, no,” I said, “my papa only hits me on the palm of my hand, never the way your papa beats you.” “Then, what’s the matter with you?” She pointed to my face, “You look awful!” “I must be hungry, I didn’t have any lunch.” The thunder became even louder now, huge drops of rain began to fall. Sung Ma came into the garden to collect the laundry on the clothesline and to drive the little chicks into the west chamber. Niu-erh and I also followed her in. Having gotten all the chicks into the chicken coop, she hurried away, saying, “It’s going to begin pouring, Niu-erh won’t be able to go home.” The minute she left, it really began to pour. Niu-erh and I leaned against the doorway looking out at the rain.

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The sound of the rain beating against the brick courtyard, echoed loudly. Although there was a gutter along the side of the courtyard, the water overflowed, rising until it covered the lower steps, splashing the door of the room, splashing our trouser legs. Niu-erh and I, stunned into silence by the fierceness of the rain, stared blankly at the ground outside. Suddenly, Ma appeared at the window of the north chamber across from us, talking and waving her hands at us. I couldn’t hear what she was saying but from her motions we understood she was telling us to get away from the doorway so as not to get splashed by the rain. So, closing the door, we went to stand by the window to look outside. “How long will it keep on raining?” Niu-erh asked. “You won’t be able to go home.” I said, then sneezed twice again. I looked around the room for a place to lie down, wishing that there was a quilt that I could snuggle under. Although there was an old bed in the room, it was piled up with some old trunks and flower pots, all covered with dust. I could not endure it any longer so walked toward the bed and leaned against the trunks. Suddenly I remembered that Niu-erh had put away some clothes inside one of the empty trunks. I opened it and took them out. Niu-erh also walked over, asking, “What are you doing?” “Help me put this on, I’m cold.” I said. Niu-erh smiled, saying, “You’re really delicate! A little rain and you’re sneezing and wanting to put on more clothes.” She helped me put something on and I used the other

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piece of clothing to wrap around my legs. We sat on a wooden washboard, squeezed together in a corner, which made me feel somewhat better. But Niu-erh was concerned about the one I had wrapped around my legs and said, “These are the only two pieces of clothing I have, don’t tear them up!” “You’re so stingy! Your ma has made so many clothes for you, yet you grudge me the use of even one piece!” Maybe I was feeling dizzy again, for I was talking about Niu-erh’s ma, yet I was thinking of Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s clothes on the table of Hsiu-chen’s k’ang. Niu-erh, wide-eyed, pointed to her nose as she said, “My ma? Made so many clothes for me? Are you awake?” “No, no. I made a mistake,” I lifted my head, leaning against the wall with my eyes closed, trying to think a while before saying, “I mean Hsiu-chen.” “Hsiu-chen?” “My third aunt.” “Your third aunt, that’s more like it. She has made so many clothes for you, isn’t that wonderful!” “Not for me, for Hsiao Kuei-tzu.” I turned my head to look at Niu-erh, her face became two faces, then merged into one. It was Niu-erh or Hsiao Kuei-tzu, I couldn’t make it out clearly. What I said was not what I was thinking and it seemed that I could not control my lips. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Startled, Niu-erh turned her head away from me. “I’m thinking of someone. Oh yes, Niu-erh, tell me the story of your pa and ma.”

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“What’s there to tell about them!” Niu-erh’s lips curled. “In his home during the Ch’ing dynasty when there was an emperor, my pa never had to do any work, just loafed around having a good time. When he lost his home after the fall of the dynasty, he became poor because after spending all his money, he didn’t even know how to work, and could only earn a little by playing his hu-ch’in. He taught me how to sing, hoping that I could quickly learn to sing as well as Pi Yunhsia and earn as much money as she does. Huh! Hsiao Yingtzu, now I am going to sing at T’ien-ch’iao. There’s always a whole crowd of people listening but after I finish and pass a small basket around to ask for some money everyone slips away and when I come back, my pa beats me up! He says that those who give money are all your ancestors, you’ve got to show them a smiling face. Just look at that long dour face of yours! Then he beats me with a stick.” “The Pi Yun-hsia you mentioned also sings at T’ien-ch’iao?” “Oh no! She sings at the theater in the South Gate Amusement Park, not far from T’ien-ch’iao. Those who go to listen to Pi Yun-hsia are all big shots! But my papa often says that many of those in the opera circle all came out from T’iench’iao. So he forces me to learn and to sing.” “You also like to sing, don’t you? Why do you say he forces you to do so?” “I like to do as I wish, sing when I want to sing, sing for whom I wish to sing for. That’s more fun. Just like the two of us here when I sing for you.” Yes, I remembered the day I met Niu-erh, her eyes were

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full of tears when that shop attendant insisted that she sing for him. “But you still have to sing! If you don’t sing you can’t earn any money, then what?” “Humph!” Niu-erh grunted fiercely. “I want to go and find my own dad and ma!” “Then why weren’t you with them in the first place?” This was what I could not understand from the very beginning. “Who knows!” Niu-erh hesitated, seemingly undecided whether to say any more or not. It was still raining hard outside, as if the sky had fallen, or as if a huge sea of water was pouring down onto the earth. “One day, when I was sleeping, I heard my pa and ma quarreling. My pa said, ‘This child is certainly stubborn enough, her voice is really quite good but if she says she won’t sing, she just won’t. What can we do?’ That crippled ma of mine said, ‘The more you beat her, the more you won’t get any results.’ My pa said, ‘How can I vent my frustration if I don’t beat her? When we picked her up she wasn’t as big as a melon even. I brought her back and now she is taller than the table but won’t even listen to me.’ My ma said, ‘Your mistake was bringing her back in the first place, after all it’s very different from having our own child. And to be honest, you never cared for her like your own, so she won’t be able to be filial to you as she would to her own dad.’ My pa sighed, then said, ‘It’s almost six years now! That morning was really ill-fated, when I reached Chi-hua Gate, I couldn’t contain myself anymore.’ My ma said, ‘Right, you said you wanted to

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go very early in the morning to avoid the embarrassment of having anyone see you trying to pick up lumps of coal along the way. Don’t you always go to the toilet before brushing your teeth and washing your face? That day you were in such a hurry you didn’t go to the toilet, and instead of bringing back any coal lumps, you brought back someone’s natural child.’ My pa then continued, ‘I was looking for a spot below the city wall to squat and relieve myself, how could I know that I would see a small bundle there? I first thought I would be in for a windfall, but opening it up I found her, very much alive, her little eyes darting around.’ My ma said, ‘Huh! Now you’re planning to make money out of her, but it won’t be easy for her to sing and become as popular as Pi Yun-hsia!’” I closed my eyes again, leaning my head against the wall as I listened to Niu-erh’s voice going on and on. I seemed to have heard this story before, who was it that told me this? Also said something about wrapping a baby in a bundle and leaving it at the foot of Chi-hua Gate? Maybe I dreamt this. I often had dreams. Sung Ma said that I played too hard in the daytime and ate too much at dinner so I would grind my teeth and talk in my sleep. Was that so? I closed my eyes and asked Niu-erh, “Niu-erh, you’ve told me this story several times!” “Nonsense, I’ve never told anyone. Today is the first time I’m telling you. You’re sometimes very muddleheaded. And you say you’re going to go to school! I don’t think you’ll pass the entrance exams.” “But I really do know about this! When you were born,

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the grass was turning yellow and the leaves were beginning to fall; it was autumn when the weather was neither hot nor cold, but from outside through the window there drifted in the fragrance of the cassia ...” “What are you talking about? Did you fall asleep again and are talking in your sleep?” “What did I say?” I had forgotten, maybe I had been dreaming. Niu-erh felt my forehead and my arms, exclaiming, “You’re burning hot! You have too much on, better take off my clothes!” “Not at all, I feel so cold! So cold I feel like shivering!”As I said this, I could see both my legs were trembling. Niu-erh looked out the window and said, “The rain’s stopped, I must go back.” She was going to stand up but I held her back, putting my arm around her neck, saying, “I want to see that blue birthmark at the back of your neck, Hsiao Kuei-tzu, your ma said you have a blue birthmark there, let me find it ...” Niu-erh pushed me away slightly, saying, “Why’re you always mentioning Hsiao Kuei-tzu today? The way you are now is exactly like my pa when he is drunk!” “Right! Your pa likes to drink some wine and unshelled peanuts ...” As I rambled on confusedly, I pulled back Niu-erh’s little pigtail that looked like a dog’s tail. And there it was, there it was. In a blur, I saw under the brown hair, right in the middle of her nape was a large blue mark. I began trembling all over. Startled, Niu-erh laid her face against mine, exclaiming,

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“What’s the matter with you? Your face is so hot and red! Are you sick?” “No, I’m not sick.” I perked up at that moment but Niu-erh clasped me tightly in her arms so I could just see her pointed chin. She lowered her head, her large eyes filled with tears. I also was filled with a feeling of grief and my head really felt heavy, as if I were unable to hold it up any longer. Niu-erh held me in her arms, gently stroking me so lovingly that my tears began to fall. Niu-erh murmured, “Ying-tzu, so pitiful, you’re burning hot!” I also said, “You’re also pitiful; your own dad and ma ... Ah, Niu-erh, I’ll take you to find your own ma, then you can go together to find your own dad.” “Where can I go to find them? You go to sleep. You scare me, don’t talk such nonsense.”And she again held me tightly, patting me gently. But on hearing what she said, I struggled out of her arms, almost shouting, “I’m not talking nonsense! I know where your own mother is, not far from here.” I put my arm around her neck again, whispering into her ear, “I must take you there. Your real ma told me to bring you to her if I see you; that’s right, a blue birthmark on the nape!” She looked at me wonderingly for quite a while before saying, “Your breath smells, you must have eaten too much and are feverish. But, is what you say really true? ... about my own ma?” I gazed at her startled eyes as I nodded. Her long lashes were wet and as she smiled slightly, the tears flowed into the

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tear-dimples! I felt sick and as I closed my eyes again, golden stars flared before my eyes. When I opened them again, she had changed into Hsiu-chen’s face. I wiped away my tears and looked again and it was still Niu-erh. I lost control of my lips again and continued, “Niu-erh, after dinner tonight, you come and meet me at the Horizontal Hu-t’ung and I’ll take you to Hsiu-chen’s. You don’t have to take any clothes, she has made you a whole bundle of things. I also gave you a watch to keep time. I’m going to give Hsiu-chen something too.” At that moment, I heard Ma calling me. The rain had stopped but the sky was still dark and grey. Niu-erh said, “Your ma is calling you! We’d better not talk any more, we’ll meet tonight!” Standing up, she hurriedly pushed open the door and left. I was very happy so I found the strength to stand up and taking off Niu-erh’s clothes, threw them onto the chicken basket. I pushed open the door and went out to be met by a cool breeze from the garden. The ground was covered with water and Ma called out, telling me to walk along under the eaves but I had already waded through the water. Ma grabbed my hand and was just about to scold me when she suddenly placed both hands on mine, then felt all over my body and my forehead, exclaiming in alarm, “How come you’re burning all over. You’re sick, aren’t you? Coming home at noon under the hot sun, your face was all red, then you got caught in the rain and now you wade through all that water. Always playing with water! Go and lie down now!”

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I felt very weak and let Ma drag me to my bed. She took off my wet shoes, changed me into some dry clothing and made me lie down. Wrapped in the soft quilt, I really felt comfortable and closing my eyes, I fell asleep. When I woke up I felt hot and kicked off my quilt. The room was already pitch black and through the slit in the door curtain I could see that the lamp had already been lit in the next room. I suddenly remembered something of great importance and called out loudly, “Ma, are you all having dinner?” “So confused, she still wants to eat dinner!” It was Pa’s voice. Then Ma came in with a kerosene lamp which she placed on the table. I could see her mouth was still moving and there was grease on her lips; had she been eating pork? “Your pa will spank you, playing around until you’re sick and still want to eat dinner.” “I don’t want to eat dinner, I haven’t even eaten the whole day! I was just asking if you had already eaten dinner. I still have some things to do!” “Devil’s business!” Mama pressed me down again, saying, “You’re still burning hot, I don’t know how high your temperature is. After I finish dinner I’ll go buy some medicine for you.” “I’m not going to take any medicine. If you give me medicine, I’ll run away. Then don’t blame me!” “Nonsense! After Sung Ma finishes her dinner, she’ll cook some congee for you.” Ma didn’t pay any attention to what I had said and went back to dinner after she finished talking. I lay in bed worrying;

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thinking about my rendezvous with Niu-erh at the Horizontal Hu-t’ung after dinner and wondering if she had already gone there. I could hear the pattering rain outside and although it was not as heavy as it had been in the daytime, there was nowhere to stay out of the rain in the Horizontal Hu-t’ung, because the entire alleyway was the back wall of people’s homes. I was so worried that my chest hurt. When I rubbed it, it made me cough, and when I coughed, it hurt even more, like needles pricking me. Mama had finished eating by then and came into the room with Papa. I pressed my mouth tightly with my hand so as not to cough but my hand was trembling badly. I wasn’t trembling because I was afraid of Papa; I began trembling that afternoon; my legs, my hands, my heart and even my teeth were all trembling. Mama now saw that I was trembling and taking my hand from my mouth, said, “You’re trembling from fever. I think we should send for Dr. Yamamoto immediately.” “No, I don’t want that little Japanese!” At that moment, Papa also said, “Wait until tomorrow morning, first place some iced towels on her forehead. I still have to finish writing some letters to the folks back home to be sent out in the mail tomorrow morning.” Sung Ma also came in to see me. She suggested to Mama, “Let’s go to Western Crane Medicine Shop at the marketplace and buy some medicine such as the cure-all tablets. After taking a few of those and sleeping, she’ll be all right.” Mama always listened to Papa. She also listened to Sung Ma, so she said,

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“All right, Sung Ma, let’s go together to buy it. Ying-tzu, you be good and lie here. After taking the medicine you’ll get well quickly and will be able to go to school. You wait, I’ll also stop by Fu-chao store and pick up some of those eight-flavored preserved plums for you to eat.” At that moment, even the eight-flavored preserved plums could not move me. I listened to Ma and Sung Ma leaving with their umbrellas, and Papa going into his study. My mind was entirely filled with thoughts about my date with Niu-erh. Was she getting impatient waiting there? Would she leave in disappointment? I crawled out of the quilt, stepping noiselessly off the bed. My head was very heavy and I began coughing again, but because I was so tense, I didn’t feel any pain in my chest. I walked over to stand in front of the chest of drawers, hesitated for a moment, then boldly pulled open the drawer where Mama kept her clothes. At the very back of the drawer and way beneath all the clothes was where Mama kept her jewelry box. Mama only opened the jewelry box when Papa wasn’t at home, she never hid it from me and Sung Ma. The jewelry box was indeed hidden right under the clothes. I took it out and opened it, Mama’s new bracelet was in there! My heart was beating rapidly. When I was about to reach for it, I couldn’t help glancing at the window. It was pitch-black outside, there was no one looking in but I could see myself mirrored in the glass. I could see how I took out the gold bracelet, how I put the box back under the clothing, and shut the drawer; my hands were trembling. I wanted to give it to

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Hsiu-chen for their traveling expenses. Mama had said that two ounces of gold was worth quite a lot of money, enough to go for a pleasure trip to Tientsin, Shanghai and Japan. Then shouldn’t it be enough to get Hsiu-chen and Niu-erh to Huian to look for Third Uncle Szu-k’ang? As I thought of this, I felt I was doing the right thing so I slipped the bracelet onto my wrist with a clear conscience. I turned my head around again and suddenly saw myself clearly in the window. No, I was startled, it was Niu-erh! She was waving to me and I ran over quickly. Niu-erh’s hair and hands were all wet. She whispered, “I was afraid you would be at the Horizontal Hu-t’ung waiting for me, so the minute I finished eating dinner I stole out. I waited a while but just as I began thinking that you would not be coming, your ma and Sung Ma walked past and I heard them saying something about going to get some medicine for you. I was worried about you so came over to take a look. Your gate wasn’t locked so I just walked in.” “Then we’d better go now!” “Where to? Is it the place you mentioned this morning, someone called Hsiu-chen?” I smiled and nodded at her. “Just look at the scary way you’re smiling, the fever must have muddled your mind!” “Not at all!” I puffed out my chest and immediately began to cough again. I hurriedly bent over and felt a little better. I placed my hand on her shoulder and continued, “The minute you get there you’ll know how much she has been longing for you! She has made so many clothes for you

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according to my size. Niu-erh, what do you think your own ma looks like?” “I’ve often thought about that. If she really has been longing for me, she must also be as thin as I am, her face must be fair and ...” “Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right.” As we talked, we walked toward the gate. The gateway was dark. Fumblingly, I managed to open the door. A gust of wind, carrying with it a sprinkle of rain, blew open my short jacket and I felt wet and chilled, but I still said to her, “Your mama, she has thin lips and when she smiles, there are two dimples; when she cries her lashes are long and damp. She said, ‘Hsiao Ying-tzu, I ask you a thousand, a million times ...’” “Hmm.” “She said Hsiao Kuei-tzu is the lifeline of our lives! ...” “Hmm.” “The first day she saw me she said that if I saw Hsiao Kuei-tzu tell her to come back. Without eating, nor dressing, she just ran out in a hurry to find her dad ...” “Hmm.” “She said, ‘Tell her to come back, we’ll go together; tell her I won’t scold her ...’” “Hmm.” The two of us had already reached the door of Hui-an Hostel and as Niu-erh listened to me, she was sobbing as she responded, “Uh-huh.” I embraced her, then said, “She is ...” I was going to say mad then stopped, because I had long ago refused to refer to her in that way. I changed it,

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“People say that she has gone out of her mind from longing for you! Niu-erh, don’t cry, let’s go in.” Niu-erh seemed to be at a loss, leaving all the decisions up to me; she was crying on my shoulder as she walked along. She didn’t even notice where we were. Going up the steps of Hui-an Hostel, I pushed the gate gently and it opened. Hsiu-chen had said that the gate was never barred before midnight as some students came back very late. The wooden bar would be propped against one of the double doors while the other door would be left slightly ajar. I whispered to Niu-erh, “Don’t make a sound.” We walked in very quietly, past the window of the gatehouse, bumping against the cover of the water urn under the eaves, and at the sound, Hsiu-chen’s ma asked, “Who is it?” “Me, Hsiao Ying-tzu!” “Look at you! It’s already dark and you come looking for Hsiu-chen. She’s in the side courtyard! Don’t stay too late, hear me?” “Uh-huh.” I answered, holding Niu-erh, and went toward the side courtyard. I had never been here after dark and when I pushed open the gate to the side courtyard, there was a loud creak that made me feel as if a needle had scratched my heart. It was so uncomfortable! Niu-erh and I stepped along the wet ground and my foot touched something. Looking down, I saw that it was the bottle of hanging ghosts that I had collected that

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morning. I picked it up and left it on the window sill when we reached the door. There was a light in the room, but it was not very bright. I opened the door and entering together, we stood by the door to the inner room. I held Niu-erh’s hand, it was trembling too. Hsiu-chen did not pay any attention to us coming in, she was sitting again in front of the bed with her back to us, rearranging that trunk and without even turning her head, she said, “Ma, you don’t have to hurry me. I’m coming to bed right away; I first have to finish packing Szu-k’ang’s clothes.” Hsiu-chen thought it was her ma who had come in and I didn’t answer, not knowing what to say. I wanted to say something but couldn’t say a word, just gazing stupidly at Hsiu-chen’s back, noticing that her long braid had been pulled to hang over her breast. She often did that, saying that Third Uncle Szu-k’ang liked it that way. He liked watching her fingers playing with the tip of her braid and the way she would hold the tip between her teeth when she was thinking of something. Probably because she didn’t hear any answer, Hsiu-chen suddenly turned around, exclaiming, “It’s you, Ying-tzu, all wet!” She ran over and Niu-erh instantly hid behind me. Hsiu-chen stooped down, then seeing a shadow behind me, her eyes widened and slowly slanting her head, she looked behind me. I could feel the hot breath on the back of my neck. Niu-erh pressed tightly against me, and the hot breath came faster and faster until suddenly she burst into tears. At that moment, Hsiu-chen also called out hoarsely, “Hsiao Kuei-tzu! It’s my ill-fated Hsiao Kuei-tzu!”

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Hsiu-chen pulled Niu-erh from behind me and hugged her tightly; then she sat on the ground, hugging, kissing and stroking Niu-erh. Niu-erh was stupefied, crying as she turned and looked at me. I backed up against the doorframe, feeling as if I would fall. It was only after quite some time that Hsiu-chen loosened her hold on Niu-erh, scrambled up and pulling Niu-erh toward the bed, exclaimed hastily, “You’re all wet! Change your clothes and if we hurry we can make it tonight. Listen!” It was the frighteningly shrill train whistle breaking the quietness of the rainy night. Hsiuchen lifted her head, listening and pondering a while before continuing, “There’s an eight-fifty train to Tientsin, then we can catch the steamboat there. Hurry, hurry, hurry!” Hsiu-chen took the bundle on the bed and opened it. It was full of Niu-erh’s, no, Hsiao Kuei-tzu’s, no, Niu-erh’s clothes. Hsiu-chen put several pieces of clothing on Niu-erh. It was the first time I saw Hsiu-chen doing anything so quickly. She also hurriedly took out the watch I had given Hsiao Kuei-tzu from the toilet box and after winding it, put it on Niu-erh’s wrist. Niu-erh submitted to Hsiu-chen’s ministering but her eyes were unwaveringly fixed on Hsiu-chen’s face, completely silent, as if she had become an idiot. I leaned back and when my arm bumped against the wall, I remembered the gold bracelet on my wrist. I pushed up my sleeve and took it off, then walked over to the bed and gave it to Hsiu-chen, saying, “This is for you to use for traveling.” Hsiu-chen took it without any hesitancy and immediately slipped it onto her

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wrist, not even saying a word of thanks. Mama said that when others give anything you must thank them. Hsiu-chen bustled around for quite a while, stuffing the trunk full of all kinds of things, then picked up the trunk and took Niu-erh’s hand. Suddenly she put the trunk down again, saying to Niu-erh, “You haven’t called me yet, call me Ma.” Hsiu-chen stooped down, hugged Niu-erh then pulling her head over, she pushed up the little pigtail to look at the back of her neck as she smilingly said, “You’re indeed my Hsiao Kuei-tzu. Say it! Call me Ma!” Ever since Niu-erh came in she hadn’t said a word, now with Hsiu-chen holding her and urging her on, she put her arms around Hsiu-chen’s neck and pressing her cheek against Hsiu-chen’s, she shyly murmured very softly, “Ma.” Looking at their faces, they became one, then split into two again. I felt dizzy and immediately closed my eyes, holding on to the railing of the bed to keep myself up. My mind went fuzzy for a while and I didn’t hear what else they were saying. When I opened my eyes again, Hsiu-chen had already picked up the trunk and pulling at Niu-erh’s hand, she said, “Let’s go!” Niu-erh, still with the feeling of being a stranger, kept looking at me to see my reactions and stretched her hand toward me, so I clasped it in mine. We tiptoed out. The rain had let up a little. I was the last to come out and on the way picked up the bottle of hanging ghosts from the window sill. Coming out through the gate of the side courtyard, we walked ever so quietly under the eaves along the gatehouse,

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yet our shoes made a squishing sound. Hsiu-chen’s ma again called out, “Is that Ying-tzu? Better go on home! Come and play tomorrow.” “Yeah.” I answered. Coming out of the main gate of Hui-an Hostel, the streets were pitch black. Although Hsiu-chen was carrying the trunk and holding Niu-erh’s hand, they were walking so fast, yet Hsiu-chen kept urging, “Hurry, hurry, we won’t be able to catch the train.” Coming out of Ch’un-shu Hu-t’ung, I couldn’t keep up with them and holding on to the wall, I called out softly, “Hsiu-chen! Hsiu-chen! Niu-erh! Niu-erh!” A rickshaw was approaching from a distance and the small lantern on its side lit up the figures of Hsiu-chen and Niu-erh. Disregarding me, they continued on their way. Hsiu-chen heard me and turned back to say, “Ying-tzu, go on home. When we arrive there we’ll write to you. Go home! Go home! ...” Her voice became more and more distant and as the rickshaw passed by, the two figures, one large and one small, again became hidden in the dark of the night. I clung to the wall, trying to keep myself from falling down. As the rain from the eaves of the houses poured down on my head, my face and my entire body, I still continued calling out hoarsely, “Niu-erh! Niu-erh!” I was cold, frightened and unwilling to part. I began to cry. At that moment, the rickshaw passed by me, and I heard someone calling out from inside the canopy of the rickshaw,

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“Ying-tzu, it’s our Ying-tzu, Ying-tzu ...” Ah! It was Mama’s voice! I called out, “Ma! Ma!” I had no strength at all, I fell down and down, and then I don’t remember anything.

5 ...... Far, far away, I heard a flock of house sparrows chitter chattering. That sound came nearer and nearer. It wasn’t house sparrows, it was a person and the voice was close to my ear. She said, “... T’ai-t’ai,11 don’t worry, your health is also important, didn’t the doctor already say that he guarantees she’ll wake up?” “But she has been unconscious for ten days already! How can I not worry!” I recognized the voices, it was Sung Ma talking with Mama. I wanted to call Mama but I couldn’t open my mouth, my eyes also would not open. My hands and my feet, my body, where were they? How come I couldn’t move or see myself at all? “In my hometown, this is what they call ‘under the spell of evil spirits.’ I just went again to the God of War Temple at Ch’ien-men and burnt some incense. See, I brought back this 11

T’ai-t’ai, mistress of the house, also can be used as Mrs. or Ma’am.

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package of incense ashes, later we’ll make her drink it down and after she’s well, you can go again to the God of War Temple to burn more incense and fulfill a vow.” Mama was still crying as Sung Ma continued, “Really strange, how come she could manage to kidnap two children at the same time? If we had returned a little later, Ying-tzu would have caught up with them. Ai! I’ve always said that Niu-erh was really pretty but somewhat ill-fated ...” “Don’t say any more, Sung Ma. Each time I hear all this, I feel frightened again. Where are Niu-erh’s clothes?” “The two pieces thrown over the chicken coop? I’ve burnt them.” “Where did you burn them?” “Right by the railway tracks. Ai! Such a pretty, clever little girl! Ai!” Both of them were sighing and didn’t say anything for a while. Then when I heard the sound of a spoon stirring in a glass, Sung Ma began to talk again, “Should we pour this down her throat now?” “Wait a while, she’s sleeping so well now, wait until she turns or moves. Has everything been readied at home?” “Yes, the new house is really big, the electric lights also have been installed, everything will be convenient!” “Moving will be better than anything else.” “You never would listen to me! I said Hui-an Hostel was tall, so was its surrounding wall. We should have hung up a

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Pa-kua12 mirror at our front gate to deflect the evil away from us; but none of you believed me.” “All right, don’t say any more. Anyhow, we’ve already moved away from that place of ill fortune. When Ying-tzu gets well, don’t tell her anything. When we get home, changing to a new place, it’s better to let her forget everything. Do you hear me, Sung Ma?” “You don’t have to tell me, I already know.” I didn’t understand what they were talking about. I wondered, what was it all about? Was something wrong? As I thought and thought, I felt myself slowly floating up and up. I was lying here, but up, up, up until my nose was about to hit the ceiling. “Ai-ya!” I shuddered and fell down again. Frightened, I opened my eyes, and heard Sung Ma say, “It’s all right, she’s awake.” Mama’s eyes were red and swollen, Sung Ma also had tears in her eyes. But I still could not say a word, didn’t know how I could open my mouth. At that moment, Mama held me up, pinched my nostrils tightly and when I opened my mouth, a spoonful of water was poured into it. I had no time to react so I swallowed, then I shouted, “I don’t want to take medicine!” Sung Ma said to Ma, “Didn’t I say it would work? Didn’t I say the God of War would answer our pleas? The minute she swallowed it she was able to speak.” Ma wiped away the water on my mouth, and put me 12

The Eight Trigrams, often used to ward off evil.

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down again. Then I began to wonder, looking at the white ceiling, the white walls, the white doors and windows, the white table and chairs. Where was this? I remembered I was at ... I asked Mama, “Ma, is it raining outside?” “What rain? It’s a bright sunny day!” Ma replied. I continued thinking dazedly, I wanted to figure out something. At that moment, Sung Ma came to my side and asked me very carefully, “Do you know me, Ying-tzu?” I nodded, “Sung Ma.” “You had a fever and have been sick for ten days, Papa and Mama brought you to the hospital. When you’re well again we’ll go back to a new home, we have even installed electric lights in our new home!” “New home?” I asked in surprise. “Yes, a new home! Our new home is in Hsin-lien-tzu Hut’ung. Remember, when your teacher examines you and asks where’s your home, you just say, Hsin ... lien ... tzu Hu-t’ung.” “Then ...” there were some things I could not remember, so I couldn’t continue saying anything. I closed my eyes. Ma said, “It’s good to sleep some more. You’ve just recovered and must feel tired, don’t you?” As Mama spoke, she caressed my cheek, my eyelids and my hair. Suddenly something bumped against my head and it hurt. I opened my eyes, it was the gold bracelet on Mama’s wrist––that gold bracelet! I couldn’t

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help exclaiming, “The bracelet!” Ma didn’t say anything, just pushed the bracelet up higher on her wrist. I kept staring at Mama’s gold bracelet thinking, this gold bracelet––isn’t it the one I gave someone? What was that person’s name? I was muddled up but didn’t dare ask, because I couldn’t remember that incident very clearly. How come I became sick and came to stay in this hospital? I was not at all clear about this. Mama patted me, saying, “Don’t brood any more, see how many people have sent you toys and things to eat while you were feverish and unconscious!” Mama picked up a very pretty box from the small bedside table and placing it beside my pillow, she opened it as she said, “Grandma Liu bought this box for you to put things in. Look, this pearl necklace was given to you by Third Aunt Chang. And this mechanical pencil is from your younger uncle. You go ahead and play with them.” She then turned around to speak with Sung Ma. Following what Mama said, I took out each gift one after another to look at. The next thing I took out was a watch studded with a few diamonds. Ah! This belonged to me! But I picked it up and gazed at it unwaveringly, trying to think, how come this was in this box? Hadn’t I also given it away to someone? “Ma!” I couldn’t help calling out, wanting to ask about it. Ma turned and seeing it, quickly took it away, saying with a smile, “See, I had this watch fixed for you. Listen!” Ma placed the watch near my ear and there was indeed a

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tick, tock, tick, tock sound. And it was then that I remembered many things. I remembered one person, then another. Their images were swaying in front of my eyes. “Ma!” I called out again, wanting to ask some more. Ma hurriedly took another object from the box, saying coaxingly, “Look at this one, this ...” I suddenly remembered so many things. I was with someone, there was also something that had to do with someone else; but why was Ma always interrupting so hurriedly, not allowing me to ask any questions? I was thinking so much of them now! The pain in my heart was too much, I wanted to cry. I abruptly turned over and burying my face in the pillow, I burst into loud sobs. And as I sobbed, I called out, “Papa! Papa!” Mama and Sung Ma hurried over to coax me, Mama saying, “Ying-tzu wants Papa, when he hears this he will be so happy, he’ll come and see you as soon as he is through at the office!” Sung Ma said, “The child has had a bad experience.” Mama picked me up and held me in her arms, as Sung Ma kept patting me. They didn’t understand me at all! I was thinking of those two people! What did I do wrong? I was scared! Papa, Papa, you’re a man, you should help me! That was why I called for papa. I cried until I was tired out, then closing my eyes, I snuggled in Mama’s arms. Mama rocked me gently in her arms, softly singing one of her old folksongs: “Sky is dark, going to rain. Old man lifting a hoe, searching for the water route. Searching for the carp, wanting to .

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marry. Tortoise holding the lantern, water turtle beating the drum ...” She also sang: “Hee, hoo, hwey, feeding the cocks, feeding till they’re big. Killing one to feed Ying-tzu. Ying-tzu didn’t eat enough. Went to the back door and cried.” The gentle rocking made me feel much better and when the song stopped, I couldn’t help opening my eyes and laughing. Mama happily kissed my cheek, exclaiming, “She’s laughing, she’s laughing, Ying-tzu’s laughing. Sung Ma has already killed one of our chickens to make some soup for you!” Sung Ma took out a small pot from under the bedside table and when she opened the lid, it was still steaming hot. She filled a bowl with the yellow soup and some pieces of meat then brought it over for me to drink. I turned away, not even wanting to look at it. Was the chicken in the bowl one of the little ones in the west chamber? I had caressed their soft yellow feathers, I had caught the green hanging ghosts for them to eat, and tears from the long lashed eyes had dripped on them. I didn’t say anything, just hid my face in Mama’s bosom. Mama said, “She doesn’t feel like eating, wait a while. Having just waken up, she doesn’t have an appetite yet.” I stayed in the hospital for almost two weeks before I was able to get out of bed and go lean by the window sill to look out. Papa hired a carriage to take me home.

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It was an open carriage, Papa on one side, Mama on the other side and I sitting in the middle, really impressive! In front there were two grooms and as Papa asked them to go faster, they cracked a whip and the horses began to trot, their hooves going clip clop clip clop down the road. I didn’t recognize where we were going, the road was wide and very long, as if it would never end. This was all very new to me. I turned backward, kneeling on the seat, and stared intently at the road. The trees on both sides of the road slipped by. Was the carriage moving? Or were the trees moving? I lifted my head to gaze at the blue sky. There was a white cloud floating there, no, a boat. I remembered she said, “That boat, slowly moving toward the edge of the sky; it was as if I had gotten on the boat, my heart was floating.” Was she on the boat now? Was it going upward to the edge of the sky? A light breeze ruffled my bangs. Passing a tree, I suddenly caught a whiff of its fragrance. I turned to look at Mama, wanting to ask, “Ma, is this the fragrance of the cassia flower?” I didn’t voice my question, but Mama also sniffed the air and said to Papa, “This is the acacia tree, a very light fragrance!” She saw me looking at her so she said to me, “Hsiao Ying-tzu, you better sit down. Your knees will begin to hurt kneeling like that, and facing backward, the wind is also stronger.” I sat down properly could only watch the driver cruelly whip the horse. When the leather whip lashed down, would

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it leave rows of welts on the horse’s body? Like those I had seen when I pushed up her sleeves in the west chamber? The morning sun shining into the west chamber onto her notvery-clean face, those long wet lashes quivering and the tears flowing past the dimples down to her mouth! I didn’t want to see the driver’s leather whip! I closed my eyes, covered my face with my hands and listened only to the clip clop of the horse’s hooves. The sun was shining on me, very warm and I was almost falling asleep when Papa suddenly touched my chin with his finger tip, saying, “How come the talkative Ying-tzu has suddenly become speechless? Tell Papa, what are you thinking of ?” Did what he say hurt me that deeply? How come the minute I heard what Papa said, my eyelids fluttered, brushing and moistening the hands that covered my face. I didn’t dare take down my hands. Mama must have then signaled Papa a message with her eyes, for she said, “Our Hsiao Ying-tzu is thinking of her future!” “What do you mean by the future?” Since getting on the carriage, this was the first time I said anything. “In the future, Ying-tzu is going to have a new home, new friends, new school ...” “What about those in the past?” “Everything in the past is all gone, of no interest anymore, Ying-tzu will slowly forget everything.” I didn’t answer, couldn’t help remembering again—the

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little chicks in the west chamber, the little red padded jacket flitting by the well house, the dimples flashing with a smile, the cover on the urn under the eaves, the small house in the side courtyard, the goldfish bowl on the k’ang, the fat baby on the wall, running in the rain ... can all these be counted as the past? Will I forget all of them in the future? “Here we are, we’ve arrived! Ying-tzu, we’ve arrived at Hsin-lien-tzu Hu-t’ung, our new home! Hurry and look!” New home? Mama just said that this is “the future.” How come it appeared so fast? Then I must take away the hands covering my face.

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Let Us Go and See the Sea

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1 ...... Mama had said that Hsin-lien-tzu Hu-t’ung was shaped like a soup spoon with our home down at the bottom near the spot where you usually sipped your soup. And Papa was glaring at me with a set face, scolding, “You never listen! Don’t make so much noise when you drink your soup, slurp-slurp, it’s not lady-like. And when you ladle your soup, don’t hit the bowl with your spoon, clinking it so noisily.” I picked up my spoon very carefully and dipped it into the soup bowl ever so gently, but Papa got mad again, “Children should wait until their elders have begun. You can’t just dive into every new dish that is put on the table!” Then he turned to Mama, “You can’t just go on not teaching the children any manners ...” I was in a hurry, as I wanted to finish my supper and go outside the gate to watch Fang Te-ch’eng and Liu P’ing play ball, so I slurped my soup noisily, let my spoon clatter against the bowl

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and was the first to begin eating. I was already full but had to sit at the table, waiting to fill up Papa’s second bowl of rice. Papa said that we shouldn’t leave everything for the servants to do, that even as big as he is, if he were still on the old homestead, he would have to stand by after he had finished his meal to wait on Grandfather. When I filled Papa’s bowl, I took the opportunity to slip away from the table, sidling toward the desk that stood by the front window. I overheard Mama saying softly, “Don’t be so strict with the child; after all, how old is she? Ever since last year when that demented woman scared her so badly that she fell seriously ill, she has been too timid. Every time you scold her so loudly she just sits quietly without a single word. She wasn’t that way before! Now we have moved here into a new place and as she starts going to school, she’s forgetting the past; she has just begun to gain a little weight ...” Oh, Mama! Why do you have to mention that strange affair again? You often talk about who is crazy, who is a fool, who is a cheat, who is a thief...I can’t tell the difference. Just at that moment I lifted my head and saw the white clouds floating in the blue sky. I immediately thought of the twenty-sixth lesson in our reader “Let Us Go and See the Sea”: Let us go and see the sea! Let us go and see the sea! On the big blue sea Are hoisted the white sails; The golden-red sun

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Rises up from the sea, Shining on the sea, shining on the sails.



Let us go and see the sea! Let us go and see the sea!

I could not make out which was the sea or which was the sky. The golden-red sun, does it rise from the blue sea? Or does it rise from the blue sky? But I loved to read this lesson. I read it over and over as if I were lying on a cloud. I have already memorized this lesson. Mama praised me before Papa and Sung Ma, saying that I was studious and studied well. Last year’s lessons: “Man, Hand, Foot, Knife, Ruler, Dog, Cow, Sheep; One Body Two Hands ...” I would like to forget all of them! Papa went to take his nap. Nobody was supposed to bother him, so there was not a single sound in the whole house. I heard a “thump! thump!” against the garden wall. That must be Fang Te-ch’eng’s ball against the wall. I was thinking how I could go out to talk and play with them. In school, we girls didn’t talk with the boys. We ignored them or glared at them, but now I wanted to play ball very much. Good Mama, she came over to me, “Go out and tell those two unruly children not to play ball at our door. Your papa is sleeping!” That was good enough for me. I flew out the door, my pigtail catching on the nail on the doorframe again, pulling tight the roots of my hair. It was so painful! Why didn’t they pull this nail out? Oh, yes, it was put there by Papa to hang

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the shoe brush on. He brushed his shoes every time he went out or came home. He told me to do the same but I felt that I could clean my shoes better by stamping my feet. Sung Ma was in the doorway feeding Little Sister her congee. She had mint leaves in her hairpin, and peelings of little red turnips stuck on her temples because she had a headache. When I opened the gate, Sung Ma asked, “Where’re you gadding to?” “Ma told me to go out.” I said, self-righteously. The round open space outside our gate was filled with sunlight and looked just like a spoonful of shimmering soup. I stood before Fang Te-ch’eng and self-importantly declared, “You’re not supposed to kick the ball against our wall, my father is sleeping!” Fang Te-ch’eng picked up his ball and stood looking at me stupidly. Right across from our home was an empty house where there was nobody but an old caretaker who was deaf, and even he would often lock up the house and go to live at his daughter’s home. I didn’t know how Sung Ma knew, but she said this house was haunted. When Mama heard this, she said to Papa, “Why are there so many haunted houses in Peking?” Between this haunted house and another house was an empty plot of land about the size of a room that was overgrown with grass. In front of this was a broken-down wall that even I could step over. The grass inside was taller than the wall. This vacant lot was said to be where the stables of the haunted house had originally been. But these had fallen

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to pieces long ago, and as there was no one to make repairs, the land had become just an empty grassy lot. I looked at the wild grass and the wall next to it, then said to the stupid boys, “Why don’t you go and kick your ball over there, there’s no one living in that house.” The minute they heard this, they turned and ran to the empty lot. They kicked the ball against the wall, letting it bounce back each time. They were so happy! Ours was a dead-end alley. The vendors came in by the spoon handle, circled the spoon and then had to go out by the same way. Just then the barber carrying his equipment on a bamboo pole came by, sounding his iron prongs with a loud twang, but nobody came out to have a haircut. Then came the candy-man, hitting his gong to announce his wares of powdered sour date, candied sour plum, color-printed paper stickers, also strings of glass beads. These were all what I liked but Mama would not give me any money so there was nothing I could do. The old vendor saw me standing there looking at him so he said softly to me, “Go, go home and ask for some money!” I thought to myself: Telling people to go and ask for money! This old man was real bad! And I walked away. Without realizing it, I walked toward the opposite side and stood by the wall of the grassy lot watching Fang Te-ch’eng and Liu P’ing, wondering if they would call me to join them. The ball rolled toward my feet and I quickly picked it up and threw it to them. Then it rolled even farther toward the foot of the wall, and I ran to pick it up for them. The next time Liu P’ing

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kicked it way up high, boasting all the while, “Just see how well I can kick!” But this time the ball fell into the tall grass. “Ying-tzu, don’t you like to catch ball? You can go and pick it up for us!” Liu P’ing said, his forehead covered with sweat. Why not? I immediately turned around and going over the broken wall, I stepped into the grass that was taller than I. It was while I was pushing my way through with both hands that I began to wonder where the ball had landed. Would I be able to find it? I turned to look back and saw that they had already run to the candy vendor, lifting their hands as they drank Yü-chüen-san soft drink that sold for three coins a bottle. I took two more steps and heard Liu P’ing calling to me, “Be careful of stepping on dog dung, Ying-tzu!” Alarmed, I stopped in my tracks and looked under my feet. Good, nothing was there. I brushed away the grass on my left, then on my right, but couldn’t find the ball. Then I walked forward till I almost reached the corner of the wall and my foot hit something. I picked it up. It was a pair of tongs. I had no use for them so I threw them away in front of me. There was a loud clang! I quickly pushed away the grass and discovered that the tongs had fallen on a bronze plate which was upside down on the ground. Strange! I squatted down to lift up the bronze plate and underneath was a neatly folded beautiful table cloth with tassels and an elegant silk robe! I hurriedly dropped the plate and covered it again. My heart was beating fast and I was as flustered as if I had been caught doing something wrong. I looked up. There was no

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one around, just the wind blowing the grass, brushing my head. I could only see above the grass, far, far away, a stretch of blue sea, no, blue sky. I stood up and walked back, wondering, should I tell Liu P’ing and Fang Te-ch’eng? I came out into the open and saw that they were already playing marbles. The candy vendor had left. Liu P’ing did not even look up as he asked, “Did you find it?” “No.” “Never mind. It’s really too dirty in there. Dogs go in to relieve themselves. Men also go there to urinate.” I left them and went home. Sung Ma was in the garden taking down the washing. When she saw me, she frowned (immediately the little red turnip peels fell off her temples), saying, “Look at the mud all over you! Did you get this way just kicking ball with those two wild children?” “I didn’t kick ball!” I really hadn’t kicked the ball. “Who are you trying to fool?” Sung Ma sneered, lifting my pigtails. “Your mother is an expert at plaiting hair tightly. Look! It’s all loosened up! Just see how naughty you are! Where’s the hair string?” “It was pulled off by that nail by the door.” To support my statement, I pointed to the nail on which the shoe brush was hanging. Then, as I looked down at my shoes, I saw that they were covered with mud, so I stamped on the brick walk with all my might. A lot of mud fell off. When I lifted my head, I saw Mama standing behind the windowpane pointing at me.

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I tilted my head, puckered up my nose and smiled sweetly at her. When she saw me smile like that she would always forgive me.

2 ...... The next day and the next day, several days passed and Fang Te-ch’eng did not mention the ball again. But I was thinking about it, not really of the ball but about the grass and the things in the grass. I wanted to tell Mama or Sung Ma but every time the words came to my lips I swallowed them. That day, I finished my homework quickly. Two-digit addition was really difficult, having to carry a number over to the second column. I only had ten fingers and couldn’t manage it fast enough. When I got tired from too much arithmetic, I recited “Let Us Go and See the Sea.” I thought, if I were lying on a white sailboat on the sea, I would have to close my eyes against the bright sunlight and the boat would rock and rock until I would fall asleep. “Let us go and see the sea, let us go and see the sea.” I repeated as I put away my pencil box, as I hung my school bag over my bedstead, and as I skipped over the doorsill. Mama and Papa were in the garden, Mama holding Little Sister and Papa pruning the flowers. Papa always said that if there were too many leaves on the oleanders then there would be fewer blossoms, so he snipped off some of the

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leaves, then bound a few branches together so that the flowers would not be so scattered. He also tied strings over the high wall for the morning glories to climb, so that when the morning sun came out all of them opened up—red, purple, yellow and blue. It wasn’t morning just then so they already looked wilted. Mama said to Papa, “Better bring back a lock. There are too many thieves around. There have been burglaries even on the main streets such as Hsin-hua Street.” Papa, his nostrils quivering, was preoccupied with the flowers and muttered off handedly, “Hsin-hua Street is still very far from us.” Then, as he raised his head and saw me, he added, “Isn’t that right, Ying-tzu?” I nodded, the grassy lot flashing into my mind. At that moment, Little Sister struggled off Mama’s lap. She had just learned to walk and liked to have me lead her around. I danced around with her and she laughed with glee. I started to recite “Let Us Go and See the Sea,” dancing in time to each line until we had reached the front door. Sung Ma had just finished eating and was sitting there picking her teeth with the pointed end of her silver ear-scraper, sucking in air after picking each tooth. She spent so much time on this that I figured her teeth must be very important to her. It wasn’t until Little Sister grabbed hold of her legs that she wiped off the ear-scraper and stuck it into the bun at the back of her head. Sung Ma carried Little Sister off toward the street, saying, “We’re going for a walk, we’re going for a walk in the street!”

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Sung Ma had a weakness for taking walks in the street and every time she came back she would tell Mama about new happenings: ghosts, thieves, mules, horses, donkeys, cows, anything that was unusual. Sung Ma was already quite faraway but Little Sister was still waving to me. It wasn’t dark yet but the sun had already disappeared. Only one bright ray could be seen on the corner of the wall of the house opposite us. Looking a little farther, I could also see a ray of light on the vacant lot next to the house. The grass swayed gently in the wind and as I gazed at it, I started to walk toward it. In front of our neighbor’s door there was a carrying pole with two baskets that belonged to a scrap collector, but nobody was around. Most probably, he was collecting scraps at some house. There was not a single person in the empty lot. I walked toward the grassy lot and as I stepped over the wall, I thought to myself if Sung Ma or anybody else should see me coming over here, I could say that I had come to look for that ball. Naturally! I was not really looking for the ball, although I hoped I could see it. My footsteps were pointed toward that mysterious corner. Holding my breath, I brushed aside the tall grass, stepping softly, for I was afraid I would step on something. Could those things still be there? Why did I walk away that day without even daring to look at them again? If those things were still there, what was I going to do? Of course, there was nothing I could do. I just wanted to look at them again, for I was always fond of unusual things.

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But when I pushed away the grass, I drew in my breath with a startled, “Oh!” There was a man squatting on the ground! He was also startled into exclaiming aloud as he turned in my direction. He stared at me for a while, then he smiled, saying, “Little girl, what’re you doing here?” “Me?” I didn’t know what to answer. After some hesitation, I finally managed to come out with, “I came to find a ball.” “Ball? Is this it?” He picked up a ball from the pile of things behind him. It was the one that Liu P’ing had lost the other day. I nodded and taking the ball from him, I turned to go, but he called to me, “Ah—little girl, stop a minute and let’s talk a while.” He had on a short Mandarin jacket and trousers. His head was bald and he had heavy eyebrows. His thick lips reminded me of what Uncle Li, who could read fortunes, used to say, “Thick and heavy lips show that the man is honest.” I was a little afraid, but remembering what Uncle Li had said, I felt better. His voice seemed to be a little shaky. He didn’t stand up. I knew that there was a pile of things behind him, though I couldn’t be sure whether they were the copper plate and other things. He said, “Little girl, how old are you? Are you going to school?” “Seven years old; I’m in the first grade of the Ch’ang-tien School.” People often asked me the same kind of question so I could answer easily enough. “Oh! That’s a good school. Who takes you to and from school?”

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“I go myself,” I answered, then remembering Papa, I added, “Papa said that children should quickly learn to be independent. Do you know that now they have opened up the Hsin-hua Street city wall, calling it the Hsing-hua Gate, so I don’t have to circle round to Shun-chih Gate.” “Little girl knows how to talk. Your parents teach you well.” He kept on nodding his head, “Your father is right, children should learn early to take care of themselves. Uh ... any kind of abilities, Ai—!”He suddenly lowered his head with a long sigh, then looked up at me as he smilingly asked, “Guess what I’m doing here?” “You—I can’t guess.” I shook my head, then suddenly remembered, “Did you come here to relieve yourself ?” “Relieve...?” He opened his eyes wide, “Yes, yes, I came here to relieve myself!” “You’re not sanitary!” “Our kind of people can’t afford to be sanitary.” I lowered my head to gaze slantwise behind his back. He seemed to be thinking of something. After a short silence, he pulled a handful of marbles, all round and shiny, from the pocket of his short jacket. “Here, these are for you.” “I don’t want them.” They did not tempt me at all. Papa said not to take things from people. “It’s I who am giving them to you!” He still continued to stuff them into my hands but I kept my palms opened flat, not closing them so that the marbles could not stay in my hands but all rolled onto the ground. I said, “I can’t accept things from other people either.”

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“What a child!” He seemed at a loss as to what to do, then he asked, “Does your family know you came here?” I shook my head. “When you go home will you tell them you have seen me?” I shook my head. “That’s good, be sure not to tell anyone that you saw me! I’m also a good man.” Who had said he was a bad man? His behavior made me curious. I guessed he hadn’t come here to relieve himself. That pile of things must have something to do with him. “You’d better go home! It’s getting dark!” He pointed to the sky where crows were flying past. “Then what about you?” I asked him. “I’m going too, you go first.” He brushed at the wisps of grass on his clothing, as if he were going to stand up, then went on, “Don’t say anything, little girl, you’re still little and don’t understand. Wait until sometime later and I’ll talk more with you. I have many stories!” “Tell me stories?” “Yes! I often come here. I can see you’re a good little girl. Let’s become good friends. I’ll tell you the story of my brother and of myself!” “When?” I loved story-telling. “We can talk a little whenever we meet. I get very lonely by myself.” I didn’t quite understand what he was talking about but felt that it was good to have such a big friend. I didn’t know whether he was a good man or a bad man. I couldn’t make

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out all this just as I couldn’t differentiate the sea from the sky, but his lips were thick and heavy. I turned to brush away the tall grass, then turned back to ask, “Will you come tomorrow?” “Tomorrow? Not for sure.” He was spreading out a piece of cloth to pack up the things. It was very dark there in the grass so I couldn’t see clearly but on hearing the sound “tang-tang” I was certain that it was the copper plate hitting against the marbles on the ground. Were those his things? When I walked out over the broken wall there still wasn’t anyone around but in the distance I could see Sung Ma returning with Little Sister. I began running home and as I passed our neighbor’s house, I saw that the scrap collector’s carrying pole and baskets were still there. I reached our door just as Sung Ma was leading Little Sister inside. The light in the garden had been turned on and several lizards were crawling on the wall near the light. Many little insects were swarming around the light bulb. A small table had been placed by the garden pool and I knew that a pot of jasmine tea and a pack of Ruby Queen cigarettes were on it, for Papa would recline on the wicker chair beside it for a long, long time, talking with Mama about this and that. Maybe Uncle Li would come over later. I put the ball on the table, picked up the pack of cigarettes and opening it, drew out the picture postcard which was in it. Papa smiled and asked,

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“Have you finished your collection of pictures of all the legendary characters in Feng-shen-pang?”1 “How could I? I have never found a single one of Chiang Tzu-ya. But I already have three of the three-eyed Yang Chien.” Papa stroked my head and said to Mama, “This child, she also knows about Chiang Tzu-ya and Yang Chien!” Without knowing exactly why, I suddenly asked, “Pa, what is a thief ?” “Thief ?” Papa looked at me in surprise. “One who steals other people’s things is a thief.” “What does a thief look like?” “Like a man? One nose and two eyes.” Ma answered, also looking at me with surprise. “Why are you asking about this?” “Just asking.” While saying this, I picked up a stool and put it beside Mama’s feet. I had not even sat down when Uncle Li came in and Mama shooed me away, “Go, go and play with Little Sister in the house. Don’t sit here interrupting us.”

3 ...... When I was washing my face the next morning, I put the ball into the basin to wash it with soap. The ball was white as 1

The Investiture of the Gods, a legendary novel written in Ming dynasty, the background of which is in late-Shang and early-Chou dynasties.

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snow but the water in the basin was black. I put the ball in my school bag just as Sung Ma came in to change the water. She exclaimed “Oh!” pointing to the water in the basin, “Is this from your face? Really clean, isn’t it?” “Cleaner than your smelly small feet!” I replied, laughing. I didn’t know why I thought of Sung Ma’s feet; most probably because Mama had said that her feet were bound so tight that it must be smelly inside. Sung Ma also laughed, saying, “You have a clever tongue, eh? When you can’t chew your shao-ping,2 don’t start crying then!” Trying to bite the shao-ping at breakfast each morning was really a painful affair. My front teeth had already fallen out and the new ones had not come in yet, so there was no way I could bite off shao-ping and Ma-hua.3 I was so slow in eating that I often had been late to school and because my teeth hurt when I chewed, I had cried many times. So I would rather not eat anything and go hungry. I slung my school bag over my shoulder and went off to school by myself. Coming out of Hsin-lien-tzu Hu-t’ung, I went straight toward the city wall. Although Hsing-hua Gate was already opened, it wasn’t finished and there were layers of brick and mud piled up so no vehicles could pass through, only pedestrians. The morning sun shone on the mud slope and as I walked up there, it shone on me. Although I had not eaten any breakfast, I felt good. I stood there looking at the 2 3

A kind of baked bread, usually eaten at breakfast. A kind of deep fried pretel.

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passers-by and as I held my school bag, I felt the lump of the ball in it. Immediately, my thoughts went to the vacant grassy lot and the thick-lipped man. What was he really doing? I was lost in thought for a while; then I walked down the slope, through the Hsing-hua Gate, to school. The scouts from the fifth grade were standing guard at the school gate. They looked so fierce! But so envied by others! When could I become a scout? “What’s in your bag?” A scout asked, pointing at my bag. I jumped with fright. “It’s a ball, I’m going to give it back to Liu P’ing.” I was stammering a little, I was so afraid of them. The scout was good to me and didn’t search my bag but waved me on. I saw him going through other schoolmates’ pockets and confiscating salted lima beans and candies. We were not allowed to bring things to eat. When I entered my classroom, I pulled out the ball and gave it to Liu P’ing. He looked at it stupidly. Most probably he had forgotten it. I said, “It’s the ball you two lost the other day!” He remembered then and took it happily without even saying thank you. Some of the students were talking and arguing. They said that the whole school was going to join in giving performances at a meeting to send off the graduating class. As each class was to be responsible for one item of the program, they were arguing as to what our class should do. I was really surprised that they seemed to know all the news. Why didn’t I ever hear any of this?

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It turned out as they had said. During class, our teacher said that the first and second graders could not put on an entire play but that we would sing some songs and do a few dances. Teacher Han, our music and dance teacher, would pick out a few students from the first, second and third grades to perform “The Sparrows and the Children.”4 That was such a pretty act! Who would the teacher pick? Would I be chosen? My heart was beating fast, for I liked Teacher Han. She was the daughter of our dean of studies. In winter, she would wear a lotus-lavender ch’i-p’ao5 trimmed with white rabbit fur, and when she taught us dancing in the auditorium and we joined hands in a circle, she was the one next to me. Her hands were so warm and soft. I loved her so much. Did she like me? “...then there is Lin Ying-tzu as one of the sparrows.” Oh! I was still in a dream and didn’t hear clearly. What was it? Was my name really called? “Lin Ying-tzu, beginning from tomorrow, you will stay late after school and I will teach you in Classroom A of the third grade. Did you get it straight? Remember to tell your family.” I felt my face grow hot, I was so happy. My classmates were so envious of me! I would go and dance with the big students of the third grade, although I was to be only a sparrow, flying around not having to sing a word. I felt the time pass so slowly because I was in a hurry to go home and tell Mama. I didn’t want to tell smelly small feet 4 5

A favourite song and dance for children. The Chinese sheath-dress, high collared with two side-slits.

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Sung Ma as then she would bring Little Sister to the meeting. I didn’t want her to come! After class was over, all my classmates crowded around me asking me what I would wear that day. Was I afraid? The girls all came and hugged me as if I were their very best friend. Finally, school was over and it was lunch time. I sped out of the room ahead of the others. I entered Hsin-lien-tzu Hut’ung after walking through Hsing-hua Gate and passing over the uneven mud slope. The third house in the hu-t’ung was a huge one whose gates were usually closed tight. Today, it was wide open and many people were crowded there. The police had also arrived. Something must have happened but as I had to go to school again in the afternoon, I could not squeeze into the crowd to see what was going on. I ran home quickly. Sung Ma was talking excitedly and Mama was listening wide-eyed, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “This time he really made it rich, stealing over thirty garments, mostly those which they had taken out yesterday to sun in the garden.’’ “How could that be seen from outside? Isn’t that the family with the big black doors? When I pass by I hardly ever see the doors open, it’s always so secretively closed.” “Today, with the doors opened wide, we could see everything. The arbor, the pomegranate trees and goldfish! The garden could be clearly seen!” “What’s happening now?”

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“The police are there investigating. Come, Little Pearl, let’s go and have another look.” Sung Ma was leading Little Sister away when she saw me, “Hsiao Ying-tzu, do you want to go and see the excitement?” “Excitement? They have lost so many things and are so upset and you talk about watching the excitement!” I made a face at her. “Good heart has no good reward!” Sung Ma went away, carrying Little Sister. At the lunch table, I told Mama about my being chosen for a part in the play “The Sparrows and the Children.” Mama was delighted and said that she would sew the prettiest dance frock for me. I said, “After you finish sewing it, lock it in the trunk so that the thief won’t steal it.” Ma said, “That won’t happen. Don’t say such unlucky things.” I couldn’t hold back my question, “Ma, when the thief steals, where does he put the things?” “He sells them to the people who buy such stolen goods.” “What does a stolen-goods collector look like?” “People all look just like people. Nobody has the word thief carved on his forehead to show who is and who is not.” “I can’t understand this!” I was worried. “There’re plenty of things that you don’t understand! Go to school my silly girl!”

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Mama’s Peking dialect was quite fluent but as I ran off to school, I laughed at her pronunciation, so heavily accented with her own provincial dialect.

4 ...... Because I had to stay at school to practice dancing, I came back later than usual. I still stood for a while, as I usually did, on the mud slope by Hsing-hua Gate. The sky above Hsing-hua Gate was a light red. Was the sea also this color at this hour? I started to recite to myself, Let us go and see the sea! Let us go and see the sea! The golden-red sun Rises up from the sea.

Couldn’t I now say that “The golden-red sun falls from the sky?” Yes, one day I will write a book to distinguish the sea from the sky and to tell the difference between good people and bad people, between crazy people and thieves. But at that moment, I could not tell one thing from another. Thoughtfully, I walked down the mud slope and when I reached our door, I sat down stupidly on the doorstep

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without knocking at the door, for I saw the carrying pole and baskets of the scrap collector in front of our neighbor’s door again. How come? Where was the collector? Against my will, I stood up and walked toward the vacant lot. At that moment, there was only one man far away in the empty courtyard in front of the gate, squatting under the giant ash tree. He did not pay attention to me. I strode over the broken wall, brushed aside the tall grass and went forward step-by-step. It was at the same place that I saw him! “It’s you!” He was also squatting there with a blade of grass in his mouth. He peered beyond and then waved at me to squat down beside him. As I crouched down, my school bag fell to the ground. He whispered to me, “Did you just get out of school?” “Uh-huh.” “Why didn’t you go home?” “I guessed you were here.” “How could you guess?” He slanted his head to look at me. I looked at his face, wondering how it was that he looked so familiar. “I...” I smiled without finishing my sentence. I just felt that he would be here; I was not guessing at anything. “I guessed that you should be coming here.” “Should be coming? What do you mean by that?” He asked in surprise. “I don’t mean anything!” I answered, also in surprise. “Didn’t you have some stories that you were going to tell me?” “Right, right. We must keep our word.” He nodded,

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smiling. He leaned against the wall. There was a large parcel beside him, wrapped with tarpaulin. He leaned against the huge parcel just as Sung Ma leaned against her bedding on her k’ang. “What story do you want to hear?” “Your brother’s, and yours.” “All right, but let me first ask you something, I still don’t know your name.” “Ying-tzu.” “Ying-tzu, Ying-tzu.” He repeated softly. “A very pretty name. What’s your position in class?” “Number twelve.” “Such a clever student and you only made twelfth in the class? You should be the first! It must be that you are distracted by playing too much.” I laughed. How did he know that I liked to play? How could I stop playing! He went on, “I used to want to play when I was little; I didn’t get far in my studies and now it’s too late to be sorry. My brother’s a good student; every year he’s the first in his class. He’s ambitious and always said that when he grows up and finishes school, he’ll go overseas to study abroad. My heavens, with such a useless brother like me, how can I support him! My mother and me, the three of us, often don’t even know where we’ll get our next meal from! Ai!” He sighed. “Taking this step was not what I wanted. Little sister, do you understand me?” I seemed to understand, yet did not really understand.

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I just kept on staring at him. There was a clot of secretion at the corner of his eyes, which were all red as if he had not slept the night before or as if he had just been crying. “My blind old mother became blind from crying over my worthlessness. Now she only knows that I’ve spent all my inheritance and have changed for the good, settling down to a small business. She doesn’t know anything else about me. My studious bookworm brother believes even more that I’m his good brother. That’s right, I do support him in his schooling and I want, with all my heart, to be able to support him to go abroad to study. Am I not a good man? Hsiao Ying-tzu, do you think I’m a good man? Or a bad man? Huh?” Good man? Bad man? This was most difficult for me. Why did he ask me this? I shook my head. “Not a good man?” He glared at me, pointing at his nose. I still shook my head. “Not a bad man?” He laughed, the tears flowing out from the secretion at the corner of his eyes. “I don’t understand what is a bad man or a good man. There’re too many people. It’s too difficult to tell.” I lifted my head to look at the sky and a sudden thought come to my mind, “Can you tell the difference between the sea and the sky? We have a lesson. I will recite it to you.” I started to recite “Let Us Go and See the Sea.” I repeated each sentence slowly and he listened attentively with tilted head. As I spoke a sentence, he nodded with an “Ah.” After I had finished, I said,

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“The golden-red sun rises up from the blue sea, but it also rises up in the blue sky. I can’t tell the difference between the sea and the sky. I can’t tell the difference between a good man and a bad.” “Right.” He nodded his approval. “Little sister, you have a good mind. One day in the future you’ll be able to tell the difference. When my brother goes on a large ship to study abroad, we’ll send him off. Then we’ll see the sea and see how it’s different from the sky.” “Let us go and see the sea! Let us go and see the sea!” I happily repeated. “Right! Let us go and see the sea! Let us go and see the sea! On the big blue sea are hoisted the white sails ... what kind of a sun is it?” “The golden-red sun rises from the sea ...” I taught him, sentence by sentence. He also liked this lesson very much. He said, “Little sister, I’ll never forget you. I’ve never talked to others about my concerns, not even to my own brother.” What were his concerns? What he had just said to me, was that about his concerns? But I didn’t understand it all, and was too lazy to ask. I only wondered how long it would be before his brother went abroad on a big steamer? No matter what, we had come to an agreement, the agreement of “Let us go and see the sea.”

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5 ...... Mama lent me her light blue veil to dance with. She tied a little bell on each of the four corners and I draped it over my shoulders, tying one end to each little finger so that it was like the wings of a sparrow. When I moved my arms, the little bells tinkled. Such a pretty sound. Graduation day was also the day of the farewell performance for the graduating class. Papa and Mama came and sat in the guest section. The graduates sat in the first few rows with us performers behind them. The scouts were responsible for keeping order and they were really proud as they stood guard at each of the doors of the hall—not letting this one in, not letting that one out. The graduation ceremony began. Dean Han gave out the diplomas, which were received by the student who came first in the class. After the boy had gone up on the stage to receive the diploma, he bowed to Dean Han, then turned to bow to the audience. Everyone clapped heartily. I thought this boy’s face was very familiar, as if I had seen him before. Oh! I was real stupid! Every day in the same school, of course I had seen him before. We sang the farewell song for the graduating students, “Beyond pavilions, beside old paths, green grass merging with sky ... As you go, asking when you will return. Returning, do not loiter on the way ...” I didn’t understand the meaning of the words but as I sang, I felt like crying. I didn’t like partings, although I didn’t know a single student of the graduating class.

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When it came to our turn to perform “The Sparrows and the Children,” I was happy and also afraid. This was my first time on stage and as we danced around, it was like a dream. I didn’t dare look off stage to see what was going on there. I only heard the murmuring of the crowd and the sound of clapping. After I came off the stage, I went to where Mama was sitting. She had bought a big crab-apple for me, also buns and some Yü-chüen-san soft drink. I ate all I wanted. The scouts could not bother me now! I wasn’t ready to sit still all the time, so I stood up, looking around to the left and the right, also to show off to the people that I was the one who was the little sparrow on the stage. Suddenly, I saw a familiar face, sitting on the right side in the guest section. He turned around, yes, yes, it was him! I didn’t know why but I quickly squatted down, hiding myself behind the people in front of me. My face was burning as if something had happened. I bent my head in thought. How come he was here? Was it to see me? In the midst of that grass, did I tell him about this graduation ceremony and that I was going to perform? If he hadn’t come to see me, then who did he come to see? I crouched too long at Mama’s feet. She kicked me gently, saying, “Get up! What’re you looking for?” I stood up from under the seat and sat down beside Mama, eating my crab-apple with lowered head, not daring to look to the front on my right. Mama smilingly said, “Didn’t you say that the scouts would not interfere with eating today? Why are you so afraid?” “Who said I was afraid?” I twisted around to sit up straight.

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Because of my teeth, the big crab-apple was very difficult for me to finish. As I bit into the apple, I stared at the stage and pondered. I remembered, I suddenly remembered, his brother! His brother who had come first in his class! I almost cried out. Luckily the crab-apple was stuffed in my mouth and only an “Uh” came through my nose. The performances were soon over and we all reluctantly left the school. After we got home, I kept on talking about the day’s events over and over again, as if I could never forget the day’s happiness. Papa was very pleased and said that since I had improved and was now among the first ten in the class, he must buy a gift to encourage me. Papa said, “You must keep on working hard! Improving every year until you graduate, you’ll be like that boy who was first in his class and was the representative chosen to receive all the diplomas. Just think, how happy and proud the father of that boy must be!” “He doesn’t have a father!” I blurted, startling even myself. Was he actually the brother of that man? Fortunately, Papa did not ask any more questions. However, this made me want to go somewhere. After supper, it wasn’t dark yet, so I slipped out the door. Outside the gate, there were many people airing themselves, a group here, a group there. They would not notice me. I pretended to walk nonchalantly over toward the vacant grassy lot. The grass had grown even taller and thicker, so that it took some strength to push it aside. It was very dark in the grass. I didn’t know why I had come or if he were there. I just had this undefinable urge, so I came.

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He wasn’t there but the tarpaulin parcel was still in the corner of the wall, two stones resting on top of it. I felt like taking the stones off and opening the parcel to see exactly what was in it, but didn’t dare do so. I stood there gazing fixedly at it, thinking. My eyes were suddenly wet. I thought, summer will be over soon, then autumn and winter will be here. Would he still come here very often? What will he do when it is cold? If, one day, his brother went to study abroad, what about him? Would he come again to this grassy lot? I squatted down, letting the tears drop on the ground, not knowing why I was so heartbroken. I used to have a friend who everyone said was demented, but I loved her. Would I have to part from him as I had parted from that crazy girl? Something glittered on the ground. It was a brass buddha. I picked it up and walked out of the grassy lot. As I passed by the gaint ash tree, a man dressed in a short jacket with matching trousers and wearing a straw hat, came smilingly toward me, “Little girl, what’s that you have in your hands? May I have a look?” Why not? I passed it over to him. “Where did this come from? Is it from your home?” “No.” I suddenly remembered this was not ours. How could I just take it! So I pointed toward the empty grassy lot, saying, “There, I picked it up over there.” He nodded smilingly, giving it back to me, but I didn’t want it any more because if Papa knew that I had picked up something from outside, he would scold me. So I pushed it aside, saying,

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“You take it!” “Thank you!” He was so gentle. He must be a good man!

6 ...... It was depressingly hot at night, mosquitoes bit terribly. It began to rain in the middle of the night and was still raining at day-break. After the graduation exercises, there was a three-day vacation. Then we were supposed to go back to school for our summer vacation homework, so I didn’t have to go to school that day. The rain had washed the garden so clean! The morning glories climbing up along the wall were especially pretty in the morning sunlight. Walking toward the wall, I suddenly thought of another wall. Had the rain messed up the tarpaulin parcel? What about him? As I thought of this, I could not help running out, not caring whether anybody saw me or not. The grass was still wet and as I pushed my way through, the rain drops fell all over me and my face. He was actually there! But he didn’t look the same as he did at the graduation ceremony. Yesterday he had sat so upright in the school hall, waist stiff and neck straight. Now his hands were covered with water and mud. There were also some raindrops on his bald head. He was sitting on something with

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his two hands cupping his chin, he didn’t smile. He must be thinking of something, not paying me any attention. After quite a while, he asked, “Hsiao Ying-tzu, I ask you, did you touch this parcel yesterday?” I shook my head. I glanced sideways at the parcel. The stones on it weren’t there any more and the parcel itself didn’t look as neat as it had yesterday. “I thought it wasn’t you.” He bowed his head, muttering to himself. “But it would have been better if it had been you.” “It wasn’t me!” I wanted to swear to it, “I wouldn’t be able to move those stones.” After a short pause, I finally got up my courage to say, “Our school had it’s graduation ceremony yesterday. You also know about that.” “Yes, I saw you.” I smiled, hoping that he would praise me for doing a good job of being a sparrow but he seemed not to have time for it. He pulled my hand into his, saying very sadly, “I can’t stay here much longer, do you understand?” I didn’t understand, so I just gazed at him, neither nodding nor shaking my head. He then said, “Don’t come here to find me any more; we can meet somewhere in the future. Isn’t that right? Little sister, I’ll never forget you, so intelligent, so quick, so kind. We’ve been good friends for a while. This is for you, this time you must accept it.” He took out a string of beads from his pocket but I wouldn’t take it. “Don’t you worry. This is my own. Grandmother gave me so many things which I wasted away, leaving only this small

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string of ivory prayer beads. I don’t know why, but it hung on my mirror frame and I just never touched it. I meant to bring it and give it to you today. This is because we have affinity for each other. Hsiao Ying-tzu, remember, I’m not a bad man!” His speech was so sincere, so moving that I accepted the beads, winding them twice around my wrist. I had so much more to say to him, for example, his brother, yesterday’s performances, but he held my shoulder, saying, “Go back, Hsiao Ying-tzu, let me think carefully by myself. These past few days, it seems that ... Ai, it seems to be not too good!” I could only back out and as I stepped over the broken wall, I pushed the beads further up on my arms, letting my sleeve hide them. I was afraid that I would meet the strange man again and he would ask for them.

7 ...... One day passed. Two days passed, and it was the day for me to go back to school for my summer vacation homework. Beautiful Teacher Han was learning to ride a bicycle in the school yard. This was a very fashionable thing to do then and Teacher Han would always follow the fashions of the moment. When she rode up to me, she stopped and smilingly asked, “Come for your homework?” I nodded. “You must spend your summer vacation happily. When school begins again you will have finished your homework, your new teeth

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will have come out and Hsing-hua Gate will be finished and opened to traffic.” She was so amusing. I laughed. Remembering my teeth, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand but it was too funny. Even though my new teeth were not yet out, I still had to laugh so I laughed and laughed. Teacher Han also laughed as she held on to her bicycle. I walked home with several schoolmates who lived in the same direction. As we walked towards Hsing-hua Gate, we could see that the mud pile beside it was a little lower. Teacher Han was right. Next semester this would be open to all kinds of cars. Teacher Han herself would ride her bicycle through here. Riding on the bicycle, she would look like an angel, and when I met her on the road, I would certainly wave at her, calling, “Good morning, Teacher Han!” As we entered Hsin-lien-tzu Hu-t’ung, it seemed to be especially crowded, people going back and forth as if they were all very busy at something. There were also a few policemen walking into the hu-t’ung. Had some other families lost something again? My heart leaped. Suddenly I felt that something bad would happen. The farther we went into the hu-t’ung, the more people there were. Everyone was saying, “Come, let’s see. Come, let’s see.” What were they going to see? I quickened my footsteps and as I approached my door I saw that every door was opened. Everyone was standing by his door looking, as if waiting for something. Some people walked toward the empty grassy lot and there were even people standing under the giant ash tree.

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Liu P’ing and Fang Te-ch’eng had already occupied the stone pedestals, one on each side of our door. Sung Ma, with Little Sister in her arms, was also standing at the door. Mama was watching from behind the door, this was what she called good manners. “What’s the matter, Sung Ma?” I tugged at her jacket. “Thief, they’ve caught the thief !” Sung Ma didn’t look at me but stretched out her neck to see better. “Thief ?” My heart jumped. “Where?” “Coming, coming. You wait and see!” The people buzzed with talk, sticking out their heads, “Coming, coming! They’re coming out now!” The crowd obstructed my view, all I could see was a lot of heads moving. People surged over from the grassy lot. I saw a uniformed policeman. “Is that him? Isn’t he the scrap collector?” A policeman walking in front had a big parcel in his hands. Ah! It was that tarpaulin parcel! Then it must be him, I held fast to the corner of Sung Ma’s jacket. “Good!” Someone said, “Damn it, that was too easy, hiding his stolen goods in the grass!” “The fellow doesn’t look like a thief! People’s hearts have changed, you can’t tell who’s bad and who’s good any more.” A group of people came toward us. I was afraid to see him and yet I finally did see him. His head was bent low, his eyes looking at the ground. His hands were tied with a white rope and he was led by a policeman. My hands were covered with sweat.

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On the other side of him, I saw another man, that man who had stood under the ash tree and had asked me for the brass buddha! He seemed to have two more brass buddhas in his hands. Somebody said, “It was that plainclothes policeman who broke the case. He had been watching the area for several days.” “Which is the plainclothes man?” someone asked. “It’s that one with the straw hat! He has some stolen goods in his hands. It’s said that it was a child who led him on to break the case ...” I slowly crept inside the gate, and leaning against Mama, felt like crying. Sung Ma also came in with Little Sister. The crowd gradually dispersed although there were many who followed for another look. Mama said, “Hsiao Ying-tzu, did you see that bad man? You like to write, don’t you? When you grow up, you can write a book about what happened today, telling how a bad man became a thief and how he came to such an ending.” “No!” I rebelled against what Mama said. When I grow up, I will write a book but it won’t be like what Mama said. What I will want to write about is “Let Us Go and See the Sea.”

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Lan I-niang

*

I-niang means aunty, a mother’s sister. But it is also used in reference to a father’s concubine, as in this story.

*

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1 ...... Right after breakfast, Second Sister and I hurried outside to stand on the two stone pedestals which flanked our gate, waiting to watch the parade of convicts. There had been many executions recently, not only of bandits and thieves but also of revolutionary students. Although the prisoners had not yet come out of the Shun-chih Gate, the wide road was already crowded with people who had gathered to see the commotion. Today they were executing four prisoners, again all students. Just like bandits, their hands were bound behind their backs as they rode on the horse-drawn cart typical of the occasion. But the expressions on their faces were unlike those of convicted bandits. If they had been bandits, then the execution would indeed be a noisy affair. The prisoners would be covered with streamer after streamer of bright red silk which had been donated by silk shops along the way. And, already drunk, the prisoners would shout:

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“Twenty years from now, I’ll be another “hao-han!”1 “It doesn’t matter. When your head falls off, the scar is only as big as a bowl!” “Brothers, give us a ‘hao’!”2 Then the onlookers would answer, “Hao!” When they were students, the scene would be quite different. They always hung their heads without a word and the onlookers would be dispirited, looking at them silently with pitying eyes. When I saw that it would again be an execution of students, I thought of Mama’s anxiety during the past few days. Only the day before yesterday she had said to Papa, “Bad rumours have been going around lately and you still let Te-hsien live here. He’s always scaring people by running back here in the middle of the night.” Papa was indifferent, and stretching out his neck. He asked her in Hakkanese, “What are you afraid of ?” “Considering the fact that we have many guests coming and going and there are numerous children and servants at home, that’s not good, is it?” Papa scornfully said, “What do you women know?” I stood on the stone pedestal of our gate, watching cart after cart of people being sent to execution. All were taut-lipped 1 2

Hao-han in Chinese means a manly fellow, who is not afraid of anything, even death. Hao means good, often used for expressing admiration, or acknowledgement and can also be taken as meaning well done, or brave.

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silent university students with their hands tied behind their backs. And somehow, it made me think of Uncle Te-hsien about whom Papa and Mama had been talking. Uncle Te-hsien came from the same province as we did and was studying at Peking University, living in an apartment near the Sha-t’an area. Papa had met him a year ago at a provincial club meeting, had liked him very much and began treating him as a younger brother. He could hold his liquor, was a good talker and got along wonderfully with Papa. All the two of them needed was a dish of peanuts, a plate of cold mutton, four ounces of Kaoliang wine and they could talk into the middle of the night. Mama would often use her Taiwan dialect to secretly berate this guest, who once seated, never seemed to want to get up again, calling him “Lingering Bottom.” One night, about six months ago, he had rushed to our house all flustered and talked in Hakkanese with Papa. It must have been a life and death matter, for Papa made him stay with us and from then on he remained in our home, but his behavior was as mysterious as ever. Papa said he was just an extraordinary example of the new generation. I was the eldest child. After me were three girls and a boy, and I dare say that, except for Fourth Sister who could not talk yet, every one of us disliked Uncle Te-hsien because he never paid any attention to us. This was the first reason. Also his face was too long and he wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses. I didn’t like this kind of face. And then, every time he came, Mama would be in for it. Papa would ask Mama to make some extra dishes, yet still complained that Mama could not cook Hakka dishes very well, that the meat-filled

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bean curd tasted too mild, and that the cold salted chicken was not tender enough! One day Mama cheerfully prepared a dish from her province and it was apparent that Papa enjoyed eating it, yet he said to Uncle Te-hsien, “The Taiwanese people only know how to cook this kind of fish!” For these reasons, we all took Mama’s side. Every time Uncle Te-hsien came, we would treat him very coldly and would purposely act in a disdainful manner. But, in fact, he never even noticed it. In spite of all this, I began to feel uneasy as I watched these prisoners on their way to execution; it seemed as though these students had something to do with Uncle Te-hsien. Not waiting for the procession to end, I ran home to ask Mama, “Ma! Why hasn’t Uncle Te-hsien been here these days?” “Who knows where he has gone!” Mama answered lightly. After a second, she asked in surprise, “Why are you asking? Isn’t it better that he doesn’t come?” “Just asking.” I said, then I ran away. I again went out of the gate onto the street to find the atmosphere of a moment ago entirely gone and the street already returned to what it normally was like in the morning. The sliced cake peddler was cheerfully pushing his one-wheeled cart on which was a lonely piece of leftover cake fixed on a bamboo skewer. I was eight years old and had just lost two front teeth. The peddler asked me if I wanted to buy the leftover sliced cake, and when I shook my head, he jokingly said,

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“Oh yes, young lady, you ate some sliced cake without paying for it so someone plucked off your front teeth!” I glared at him as I pressed my lips tightly together. When dusk fell, it was very different on Hu-fang-ch’iao Road. A new department store had opened across the street and at the door sat a whole crowd of grown-ups and children who were taking their usual after-dinner airing. They surrounded a gramophone which had a large loudspeaker and was, at that moment, playing “‘Hung-yang Tung,’ sung by Tan Hsin-pei at the request of Pathe Co.”3 The record was scratchy. The needle needed to be changed. Second Sister said, “Big Sister, let’s go over and wait to hear ‘The Laughing Record.’” Just as we were going to run off hand in hand, I saw a group of boys with shaved heads approaching from the other end of the street. They were the students from the Fu-lien-cheng Chinese Opera Training School going to their evening performance at the Kuang-ho theater. They were all dressed in white cotton jackets and black cloth shoes. I said to Second Sister, “Look who’s coming! Let’s go back to count the red eyes!”4 We returned to our own gate, each straddling one of the stone pedestals and waited quietly. The company approached; the leader was a big tall boy. Behind him, ranging from short to tall, the others followed in file. “The Laughing Record” had 3 4

“Hung-yang Tung”is the title of a famous Chinese opera selection; Tan Hsin-pei is a well-known singer in those days. “Red eyes”refers to the student performers, who, according to the traditional makeup for Chinese operatic singers, smeared their eye-lids with paint which made them look as if they were suffering from some eye disease, presumably conjunctivitis.

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begun to play across the street, and to the accompaniment of its laughter, I looked at the passing file and each time I saw a boy with red eyes, I cried out, “Red eyes!” “One!” cried Second Sister. “Red eyes!” I again cried out. “Two!” cried Second Sister. Red eyes, three! Red eyes, four! ... today there were eleven altogether. These children who were learning the opera at Fu-lien-cheng Chinese Opera Training School were not much older than we were and every time we shouted “red eyes,” they didn’t even dare turn their heads; they just walked silently on as their long sleeves swung back and forth, looking really foolish. Just as we were starting to have a good time counting them, someone suddenly appeared in front of me and cried, “Hey!” I jumped. It was Hsiao-ke from the Shih family and he was also dressed in a white cotton jacket. He asked me in a very self-important manner, “Ying-tzu, are your papa and mama home?” I nodded. He entered the gate and we followed, asking him what was the matter. He didn’t pay any attention to us so I knew he had to see Papa and Mama about something important. As we entered the bedroom, Papa and Mama were discussing something and on seeing Hsiao-ke come in, they seemed a little startled. Hsiao-ke went forward and bowed, then in the tone of reciting a lesson, said,

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“My father told me to come and tell Uncle and Aunty Lin that if Lan I-niang comes, do not let her stay because my father has already driven her out.” Mama walked to the door of the bathroom and I could hear the sound of water splashing. Papa nodded, “All right, all right. Go back and tell your father not to worry.” Hsiao-ke bowed again and without one glance at us backed out, still looking very serious. After he had left, Papa sipped at his jasmine tea while Mama lit the mosquito incense, neither of them saying a word. The bathroom door opened. Ai! Walking out in a billow of hot steam was the Shih family’s Lan I-niang. When had she come here? She was dressed in linen jacket and trousers and as she walked out, she smoothed the skirt of her jacket, brushed back her hair while her eyes crinkled in a smile, “I have washed and brushed away all the bad luck of the Shih family! How satisfying!” Mama said, “Did you know that Hsiao-ke just came?” “Of course!” Lan I-niang raised her brows with a cold laugh, “What did he say? That his father had driven me out? That’s a lie! I wanted to leave. Elder Sister5 begged me to stay on, saving her face. And now the story is that he drove me out! Tse, tse, tse!” Her lips curled, then she continued, “What business is it of his if others let me stay or not? Can he stop me? ... Let’s go, Hsiu-tzu, come with me to the front courtyard and ask Sung Ma to cook me a bowl of noodles.” She then pulled 5

Referring to the first wife.

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Second Sister away with her. Through all this, Papa had been looking at Lan I-niang with a slight smile, stretching his neck while his foot tapped rhythmically. There was not a trace of a smile on Mama’s face and it was only after Lan I-niang had left the room that she stood up in front of the table and addressed Papa’s back, “Brother Shih sent Hsiao-ke over especially to warn us. What are we going to do?” “What are you afraid of ?” Papa’s neck was stiff. “What am I afraid of ? You are always having trouble-making people around! Now, when finally the mysterious Tehsien has not been around for the last few days, you are going to let another man’s concubine stay. What are you going to say when Brother Shih finds out?” “You’ve usually been on good terms with her. Wouldn’t you be embarrassed to refuse her? And also, Hsiao-ke came one step later. She came first!” Lan I-niang came in at this moment so Papa and Mama stopped their argument. Mama listlessly called to me, “Ying-tzu, go and get some nutmeg from the drug store. The money is in the drawer.” “Mrs. Lin, what’s the matter with you? Heartburn again? Mr. Lin, have you upset her again?” Lan I-niang giggled. I took three big coins from the drawer, thinking to myself, it would be nice chewing on a nutmeg as it is so refreshing. It would be good to have Lan I-niang stay with us! She could take me to the South Gate Amusement Park, to the opera house to

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see Hsüeh Yen-chin6 in “The Courtship of Mei and Yü,” to the theater where Chang Hsiao-ying was on stage, playing in “Ting the Bowl-Mender.” The Flower Drum Song will be sung by the girl with the long braid at the courtyard where they usually chant stories to the rhythmic beat of the drums. Then we could go to eat pao-tzus7 at the restaurant, Hsiao Yu Tien. I thought of the pleasures of the cymbals and drums.

2 ...... Lan I-niang had been with us a week and her voice and laughter were heard all through the house. When Papa had left for the office and Mama had gone to shop at the Kuang-an Market, she would also talk and laugh with Sung Ma. She certainly cursed old Uncle Shih. Beginning with his old, wrinkled face, she went on to tell about his stinginess, his harshness, his lack of understanding and then she whispered something in Sung Ma’s ears and the two of them started to chuckle and giggle. Sung Ma laughed so hard that tears started to flow. Lan I-niang had a flat round face with a row of straight white teeth. I liked best the gold-capped tooth on the left. Whenever she smiled, the left corner of her lips would curve 6 7

Name of a well-known Chinese Opera performer. A steamed dumpling-like pastry filled with either vegetables, meat or something sweet.

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up and it would be revealed. On her left cheek she had a dimple which would flash out with the sound of her laughter. Her hair was combed into a twisted bun that was much prettier than Mama’s curved nugget-shaped bun. She would divide her hair into two strands, twisting them this way and that into a bun with a row of ever fragrant jasmine flowers stuck into it, nestling on one side. She always looked gay and pretty with a thin linen handkerchief tucked in her right lapel, like a white chrysanthemum. It was very comfortable riding in the same rickshaw with Lan I-niang. She would hug me with her arms, repeating, “Sit closer, sit closer.” She was not like Mama whose black silk skirt always covered a large belly year after year. Riding in a rickshaw with Mama, her body would push me very uncomfortably while she still continued to complain, “Can’t you stop squeezing me!” Mama’s stomach was large with another baby again. With Lan I-niang there, Mama was never lonely when working around the house. They had a never-ending stream of things to talk about. The wet-nurse and Chang Ma also liked to stand around where they could overhear. I too, like a “small fish following a big fish onto a hook,” would squeeze myself among them, looking up at Lan I-niang’s expressive face. On one occasion she asked Mama, “Mrs. Lin, how old were you when you had Ying-tzu?” “Only sixteen.” Mama replied. Lan I-niang smiled, “I was also sixteen when I began to ...” “What ...” I started to ask.

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“Children should not interrupt!” Mama scolded me, then admonished Lan I-niang, “Better be careful talking in front of children. Ying-tzu is always up to some mischief and will go around repeating everything.” Lan I-niang sighed, “When I was fourteen I was taken from Soochow to Peking. At sixteen I began, you know what, and during the next four years I had many involvements with quite a lot of people. When I was twenty I finally went with the old devil Shih ...” “How old is Brother Shih anyway?” Mama interrupted. “Who cares how old! Sixty, seventy, eighty, anyhow he’s old, very old!” “I remember him as somewhere around sixty something?” Mama continued to ask. “He’s ...” Lan I-niang giggled, looking at me, “as old as Ying-tzu, if you subtract a cycle of sixty—only eight years old!”8 “You have been with him five years so you are now twenty-five years old?” “Don’t consider him as being sixty-eight years old. He’s still going strong! If I stayed with him any longer, I would not be able to survive. The whole family is against me. How many more five years can I live! I don’t want to bury my youth in their home. But, the world is big and lonely. Now that I have come out, what should I do? I don’t have any close relatives, 8

According to the Chinese system of counting years, sixty years forms a cycle. Some believe a person passing his sixtieth birthday is a newborn baby, and on his sixty-first birthday anniversary, he dons a baby suit to celebrate his rebirth.

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although I do have a mother in Soochow who sold me when I was only three. But I don’t even remember which street she lives in. I only remember there was an oil lamp in that house shining on my brother who was sick in bed and my mother was sitting beside him crying. Most probably it was because of this sick brother that I was sold! It seems almost like a dream. I don’t even know whether this is just my imagination or if it were really so ...” Lan I-niang’s eyes were bright with tears as she spoke; she wouldn’t let them fall and even forced a smile to her lips. Mama was not good at expressing herself and didn’t even say anything to comfort her. I remembered last July when we went to see the burning of boats9 at Beihai Park where I was separated from Mama by the crowds. I was so frightened and cried. How can anybody be without a mother? Only three years old and without a mother. I also wanted to cry. I said, “Lan I-niang, just stay on with us. Papa likes to have people stay and we have several empty rooms!” “Good child! You are so good-hearted. When you have finished studying you can become a female school principal. Don’t get married, for there are no good men in this world! If your papa and mama are willing, I will stay with you forever. I’ll call your mama Elder Sister. Ask her if she is willing?” Lan I-niang said, laughing. “Mama, are you willing?” I really asked her. 9

According to ancient custom, the Chinese people burn paper boats on the fifteenth of the seventh moon of the lunar calendar to console the spirits of drowned persons.

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“Y ... e ... s, willing!” Mama’s voice sounded as if it had been dipped in vinegar, so sour! I would be very happy though, if Lan I-niang could stay with us for a very, very long time. The reason she said that I was going to be a woman principal was because once when I was standing beside a fortune-teller’s stall on the opposite side of the street, the fortune-teller suddenly drew out a fan from inside of his collar at the back of his neck and, pointing it at me, said to the people gathered around waiting to have their fortunes told, “See? This little girl will become a woman principal. Her nose is high and straight, and she has a very strong will! Like a man!” These words of Lan I-niang and of the fortune-teller were very pleasant to hear and made me think a lot of myself. Papa was also good to Lan I-niang. That day when I went with Papa and Mama to Jui-fu Hsiang to buy material, after Mama had chosen various pieces to make clothes for me, my sisters, and brother. Papa suddenly said to me, “Ying-tzu, you pick out one for Lan I-niang. Do you know what color she likes?” “Oh yes, I know.” I was enthusiastic. “She would like eggshell blue Indian silk with black trimming over white piping ...” I was waving my hands around to show him what I meant when I turned around and saw Mama who was sitting beside the glass case. She was glaring at me with a frown. The sales clerk had already brought over several bolts of silk of varying shades of blue and Papa, picking out the lightest one, placed it before Mama, saying meekly,

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“Do you think this is good material? Is it real silk?” Mama’s face was set as she pulled at one end of the bolt of silk, crushed a whole handful of it with a tight fist as if she were strangling someone. When she loosened her hand, the silk slowly spread out, covered with wrinkles. Mama said, “Buy it if you think it’s good. I wouldn’t know!” I couldn’t understand why Mama was suddenly angry with Papa until one day in the midst of the swirling clouds of fragrant opium smoke, I also smelt that something was wrong. Uncle Hu, a stockbroker, often came to our house to play mahjong and he had a set of opium pipes at our place. Papa would sometimes keep him company and lie down to take a few puffs. Lan I-niang was an expert at preparing opium because Uncle Shih was also an opium smoker. It was almost dinner time, Papa and Lan I-niang were reclining on the bed, face to face, with their heads on the ruffle-trimmed pillows that Mama had embroidered with peonies. I was very fond of the set of opium pipes they had placed between them; just like the set of toys Papa had bought for me from Japan. The little lamp spurting a bluish yellow flame sat in the middle of a white brass tray. Lan I-niang used a silver pick to take up a wad of opium from a coin-shaped silver box and waved it over the flame until it sizzled, then rolled it between her rosy palms. After going through this routine several times until it was done, she stuck it into the pipe. The withdrawing of the pick had left a tiny hole in the middle. She then passed it to Papa who pointed it at the flame as he sucked away at it

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with pursed lips. I was sitting on a little stool, gazing raptly at Lan I-niang’s hands; she was truly deft at preparing the pipes. Suddenly, amidst the clouds of smoke, Papa caught hold of her hand, saying, “You have rosy palms, the sign of good fortune!” Lan I-niang slapped Papa’s hand with her free hand as she drew the other away, smiling at him. “Stop fooling around! Don’t you see the child?” Maybe Papa had really forgotten that I was in the room. He lifted his head and looked at me with a strained smile. Papa’s expression made me shiver and suddenly, without quite knowing why, I thought of Mama. I stood up, lifted the door curtain and left the bedroom, then ran toward the kitchen in the outer courtyard. I didn’t know why I wanted to find Mama right then but as soon as I reached the kitchen, I called, “Mama!” and leaned against the doorway. Mama was standing in front of the stove, her face flushed and dripping with perspiration. Her belly was really too big, it stuck out so far it seemed as if she were going to give it away to someone! The oil in the wok was already hot. She poured the vegetables in then she turned to look at me and asked impatiently, “What do you want?” I was unable to answer, just gazed at her. She was impatient and pressed me, “Speak up!” I was forced to find something to say and looking at her scraping the bottom of the wok, deftly shoveling the cooked vegetables onto a plate, I could only say, “I’m hungry, Mama.” Mama knew nothing about what I had just seen and how

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deeply I sympathized with her, she just continued scolding me, “What’s the hurry? Going to die after you eat?” She brandished the spatula at me. “Go, go, go. It’s so hot. Don’t fool around here!” Mama’s figure became blurred by the tears in my eyes and I burst out crying. Sung Ma pulled me out of the kitchen, saying such things as, “You’re not at all thoughtful of your Ma. Look how hot it is today and she with such a huge belly!” On hearing this, I cried harder, stamping up and down. Lan I-niang came over from the inner court and remarked, “Wasn’t she all right a minute ago? Now she’s upsetting things in the kitchen!” Mama said, “Go tell her papa to come and give her a spanking!” It was getting dark. I was surrounded by the women and the more they urged me to eat, the worse I felt; the more they blamed me for being thoughtless, the harder I cried. In the midst of this uproar, I suddenly saw a white shadow glide past me. It was Uncle Te-hsien who hadn’t been seen for many days. He went straight into the inner court without a single glance at me. Looking at his white silk back, I was filled with hatred for everyone around me, including Uncle Te-hsien.

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3 ...... The next morning, I was the last one to get up and even after waking, I still kept my eyes closed, and thought, should I continue to refuse food at breakfast? The uneasiness I felt yesterday had not yet been forgotten. She made me think of several things. I remembered Mama telling others how Papa used to drink at the geisha houses when they were living in Japan, going from one house to another right down the street, from darkness until dawn, while Mama sat up at home until daylight, waiting for the return of her drunken husband. I also remembered too when we lived in the city. Every time we returned from seeing an evening performance of Chinese Opera at the South Gate Amusement Park, our rickshaw always passed through the Yen-chih Hu-t’ung and Han-chia-tan. Sung Ma would shake me, “Wake up, wake up! Little Mistress, see! How bright it is!” I would open my eyes and see that we were passing through a brightly-lit lane; on each door was a frame inscribed with such letters as: “Little Brother,” “Tai Yü,”10 “Green Zither” and surrounded by colored light-bulbs. Sung Ma told me that Lan I-niang had lived in such a place before she came to Uncle Shih’s house. Here were the bad ones who enticed money from men and broke up their homes! Because of this, the moment I saw Papa and Lan I-niang, I felt that Mama was being wronged, that all of us were being wronged. My fondness for Lan I-niang diminished. I was filled with hate and fear. 10

The name of the heroine in the novel The Dream of the Red Chamber.

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I got up. To go to the front court I had to pass by the side rooms and I caught a glimpse of Lan I-niang sitting at the table in front of her window playing with her ivory dominos. Still feeling resentful, I pretended I didn’t see her and went straight past. “Ying-tzu!” Lan I-niang called after me through the window. I had to go in. Lan I-niang pushed away the ivory pieces on the table, stood up and took hold of my hand saying tenderly, “Look at you, child. Your eyes are all swollen from crying last night, and you didn’t even eat dinner.” She smoothed my hair, but I kept my face rigid, not smiling at all. She then said, “Don’t feel bad. The day after tomorrow will be the fifteenth day of the seventh moon. No matter what kind of lotus flower lantern you would like to have, Lan I-niang will get it for you.” I shook my head but she continued, “Didn’t you say you wanted something special? I’ll make a watermelon lantern for you, all right? You’ll have to eat up the melon and peel the skin, leaving only a very thin layer. Then when you put a light into it, it will shine through. Very interesting.” Whenever Lan I-niang talked for any length of time, she unconsciously reverted to her native dialect, light and soft, so beautiful! My heart was moved and I nodded. Seeing that I had consented, she was also very happy. Then she suddenly asked me in an off hand manner, “Who was that four-eyed dog talking with your papa until the middle of the night?” “Four-eyed dog?” I didn’t understand.

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Lan I-niang grinned mischievously, used one hand to wipe off the expression from her face, then made two circles with her fingers and placed them against her eyes. “Oh! That person!” “Ah—that’s Uncle Te-hsien.” For some reason, I was suddenly on Uncle Te-hsien’s side and purposely, referring to him in a very intimate fashion, went on to say, “He’s very scholarly, so he wears glasses. He’s studying at Peking University and Papa says he’s the newest of the new generation, truly exceptional!” Filled with the wish to lower the position of Lan I-niang, I held up my thumb. “So he’s a university student!” Lan I-niang softened somewhat, “Then he’s the student whom your mama has often mentioned as coming to hide in your home?” “Yes.” “Good.” Lan I-niang nodded, smiling, “Your papa is very kind-hearted, he lets all sorts of people stay.” After I left Lan I-niang’s room, I unconsciously walked toward the south room where Uncle Te-hsien stayed. I had a right to go there since my homework, my little cotton dolls, my Children’s World were all in the drawer of the desk. Uncle Te-hsien was using the desk at that moment, but I walked in and, without any manners whatsoever, pulled open the drawer and riffled aimlessly through it. I made so much noise that he looked down to see what I was doing. “Where’s my small knife? My scissors? Lan I-niang wants to make a watermelon lantern for me!”

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“What’s the relationship of Lan I-niang to your family? Why haven’t I seen her before?” I was so pleased that Lan I-niang had aroused his interest. “Uncle Te-hsien, do you think Lan I-niang is pretty?” “I don’t know, I didn’t see her clearly.” “She saw you. She said your eyes are bright and alive, and that your glasses give you an air of distinction.” I thought of “four-eyed dog” and didn’t dare look him straight in the eyes. I only listened to him saying, “Oh ... Oh?” During lunch, Uncle Te-hsien was even more talkative than usual. He no longer acted as if there were no one else around, addressing himself only to Papa. He often turned to Lan I-niang to seek her approval. But Lan I-niang concentrated on picking out morsels of food for me and didn’t pay any attention to him. That afternoon, I slipped into Lan I-niang’s room again. I found a chance to say to her, “Uncle Te-hsien was praising you!” “Praising me? Praising me for what?” “I went into the study this morning to find my scissors and he said to me, ‘Lan I-niang is nice!’” “Oh!” Lan I-niang pressed her lips together and giggled. “What else did he say?” “He said ... he said that you reminded him of a girl classmate of his,” I randomly said. “But ... How can I compare with a girl from the university?” At dinner, Lan I-niang was all the time smiling and started to talk with Uncle Te-hsien. Papa was even happier. He said,

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“I like to help friends who are in need. Things that others refuse to do, I’m not afraid of doing!” Saying this, he slapped his chest. Papa had had more than enough to drink; he smiled and peered at Lan I-niang from the corner of his eyes which were all red. Mama’s face looked terrible as she stood up to pour some tea. My heart was cold with fear. It was as if Mama and I had been left out in the wilderness. All day long, I stuck close to Lan I-niang, not giving her a single chance to be alone with Papa. This time, Uncle Tehsien didn’t go out much, staying in his room all day staring vacantly, or pacing back and forth in the garden. On the afternoon of the fifteenth of the seventh moon, Lan I-niang finished the watermelon lantern for me. As soon as dinner was over, before it was even dark, I began to urge Lan I-niang, Sung Ma and Second Sister to light our lanterns and go out into the streets to look at those of other people. Just before leaving, I ran to Uncle Te-hsien’s room and said, “I’m going out with Lan I-niang to see the lanterns. Do you want to come? We’ll wait for you at the door of the Ching-hua Building!” With this, I ran off. The streets were full of people carrying lanterns and also lantern watchers; my watermelon lantern was very special and everybody noticed it. It wasn’t long before we were separated from Sung Ma and Second Sister. I clung to Lan I-niang’s hand and we walked on, not stopping until we were at the front of the Ching-hua Building. I pretended to be looking for Sung Ma and Second Sister, but in reality I was hoping that Uncle Te-hsien would be there. I looked around the building

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but couldn’t see any sign of him, so I returned, disappointed, to the front of the building where I found, to my surprise, that he had already arrived and was smiling and nodding at Lan I-niang, who, although a little embarrassed, also nodded back with a smile. Uncle Te-hsien said, “Miss Huang, you seem to be very interested in the traditional folk customs.” Lan I-niang seemed surprised and said in an unnatural manner, asking self-consciously, “Not exactly, just amusing this child! You ... how did you know my surname is Huang?” I thought that most probably Lan I-niang had never before been addressed as “Miss Huang.” I knew that only unmarried girl students were called “Miss,” certainly not somebody like Lan I-niang! I couldn’t help curling my lips as I was filled with resentment, although I was trying with all my heart to draw the two of them together. “I’ve heard Mrs. Lin say that Miss Huang is a very strong willed woman who dares to fight against the evils of environment!” Uncle Te-hsien was just talking. I couldn’t believe that Mama had really ever said this, as she was not capable of using such expressions. That night, I paraded my lantern with Lan I-niang holding tightly to my shoulder as if I were leading a blind man around. We strolled along slowly, Lan I-niang and Uncle Te-hsien on each side of me, talking in low voices, to each other. Lan I-niang would cover her mouth with her dainty handkerchief each time she smiled.

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The next day when I again went to Uncle Te-hsien’s room, he had much to say to me. He asked me, “Do you know what kind of books Lan I-niang likes to read?” “She’s now reading The Second Blossoming of the Plum. Have you read that?” It was unusual for Uncle Te-hsien to smile at me; he shook his head and gave me a book that he took from the pile of books in front of him on the table. “Give her this to read.” As I took it, I looked at the cover and saw that it was Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. On the third day I passed notes for them. On the fourth day, the three of us went to see a movie which I didn’t understand but which made Lan I-niang cry so much that Uncle Te-hsien passed her his handkerchief. It was Lillian Gish in The Two Orphans. The fifth day we walked even further to visit San P’eitzu Park.11 When we returned I was very excited and wished I could fly home to Mama’s side. I wanted to tell her that when I was looking in the fun horse mirrors at the Chang-kuan House I suddenly turned and saw Uncle Te-hsien so shamelessly and romantically holding hands with Lan I-niang. And I wanted to tell Mama everything! But when I got home, the bedroom door was shut and Sung Ma would not let me enter, saying, “Your mama has given you another little sister!” It wasn’t until the next day before I could slip in. Little 11

This park was originally the garden of the home of the third P’ei-tzu— a term for sons of a Beileh, a Manchu title bestowed on the sons of the imperial princes.

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Sister was thin with tiny white hands resembling chicken claws. But the midwife, Mrs. Yamada, who had delivered her, was full of praise. When she came to bathe Little Sister, the minute she opened up the blanket and the small chicken claws appeared, she exclaimed in Japanese with long drawn-out sounds, “Kawaii ne! (Adorable) Ka ... wa ... i ... i ... ne!” Mama had a bowl of chicken with wine soup noodles in her hands as she smiled and watched the little body in the bathtub. She didn’t notice me pacing around the tea table at the foot of her bed. I liked Mama having babies because then I could always take advantage of the situation and get something extra to eat. There would always be something to eat on the little table, chicken soup with wine, powdered milk, brown sugar water. I liked anything and everything. But today I was excited because I had something that I just had to tell her! Mama suddenly saw me. “It seems that I haven’t seen you for several days. What has kept you so busy? Where have you been running around in this hot weather?” “I’ve been at home all the time; if you don’t believe me, ask Lan I-niang.” “What about yesterday?” “Yesterday ...” I had also learned how to act furtively and crept closer to her bed as I said very softly, “Didn’t Lan I-niang tell you? We went to the San P’ei-tzu Park. Mama, the giant who collects tickets seems to have grown even taller. The three of us even had a picture taken with him. I’m only up to him here ...”

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“The three of you? Who’s the other one?” “You guess.” “Who else except your papa!” “Wrong.” I felt like laughing at Mama’s unhappy expression. I imitated Lan I-niang, wiped my face with one hand, then used both hands to make two circles in front of my eyes, saying, “It’s him. It’s this person!” Mama frowned as she tried to guess. “Who? Couldn’t be ... could it be? ...” “Uncle Te-hsien.” I shook myself in a elated manner as I patted my bundled-up little sister. “Really?” Mama’s unhappy expression disappeared and was replaced with impatience. “What’s this all about? Tell me, from the very beginning.” I began from the story of the four-eyed dog and ended with the mirror incident. Mama listened so attentively that she went on rocking the little skinny chicken sister in her arms, even though she was already asleep. “This is all your devilry!” Mama seemed to be scolding me but she smiled ever so sweetly. “Mama,” I had had to suffer such a grievance. “You had even wanted Papa to spank me that day!” “Yes, does your papa know about this?” “Do you want me to tell him?” “It’s better this way.” Mama didn’t pay any attention to me, just sat there with lowered head as if she were thinking about something and muttering to herself. Then, seeming to remember something, she lifted her head and asked,

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“What did you say you wanted to buy that day?” “A set of iron rings, a pair of shoes and now I want to add a whole year’s subscription of Children’s World.” I answered without hesitation.

4 ...... Papa was watering the flowers in the garden. This was his daily task. Every day when he came home from the office he would change his clothes and fiddle around by the pond and among the flower pots. In the spring, Papa had poured fertilizer over the pots of pomegranates so that the entire garden was filled with the awful smell. In May, the flame-colored blossoms began to bloom and now, in mid-autumn, the huge pomegranates were grinning at Papa with wide open mouths! But, Papa was not happy today. He was standing in front of the flowers in a daze. I watched Papa’s tall thin figure swaying out there and he seemed to look especially lonely as never before. Sung Ma was setting the table for dinner, running back and forth from dining room to kitchen with bowls and dishes. There were many dishes today because we were having a farewell dinner for Uncle Te-hsien and Lan I-niang. I was in my room writing the last few large characters of calligraphy practice. This year’s summer vacation had been a happy one, a very novel one, but my vacation homework had been neglected as there had been no one to supervise

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me. At first, Lan I-niang had supervised my writing but then she became only interested in reading A Doll’s House and paid no more attention to my homework. Page after page of the blocked-off notebook was filled with my untidy inky scribbling. It didn’t look like writing, even worse than the charm words written on a piece of paper by the devil. I saw Papa’s back through the window and stopped writing. Somehow I felt a little apologetic toward Papa. I was puzzled, how had Uncle Te-hsien and Lan I-niang approached Papa about their wanting to go off together? Last night as I went to bed, I had only heard Papa saying to Mama, “... how is it that I didn’t know anything about all this?” I didn’t know what Papa was talking about so I didn’t pay any attention at first. I was thinking to myself as I changed my clothes, two days more and school will start. I’ll have to finish my characters tomorrow but there are nine characters on a page, ten pages will be ninety characters, forty pages will be three hundred and sixty characters. How will I ever make all this up? I’d better ask Lan I-niang to help me. At this moment I heard Mama say, “How could you get to know about this sort of goings-on? Huh!” Mama laughed coldly. “Then you knew about this?” “I? I didn’t know anything about it either! How did Tehsien bring it up with you?” “He first said that it was getting difficult again and he had to leave Peking. He was going to go to Tientsin first, then to Shanghai by boat. Then he said, ‘I have something to tell you,

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Brother, Miss Huang is going to leave with me.’ ...” I then realized what they were talking about and began to listen carefully. “You must have been surprised when Te-hsien told you that!” “Why should I be surprised!” Papa objected. “It was just that it was so unexpected. You really didn’t know anything about it? Didn’t notice anything?” “How could I know anything about it?” Mama was truly lying! After a moment, Mama said, “There did seem to be a little something.” “Then why didn’t you tell me?” “Oh! Tell you, as if you could stop them. I think this way is quite good for them.” “Yes, it’s good, but I don’t approve of Te-hsien being so sly about it.” On hearing that, Mama snorted. Turning her head, she saw me and scolded, “What are you listening to! Why aren’t you in bed!” Papa sat there with one leg crossed over the other knee, swinging back and forth. I really wanted to go up to him and tell him that Uncle Te-hsien had written on the photo that we three had taken together at the door of the San P’ei-tzu Park: “To meet is not necessary to have known each other before.” Lan I-niang had told me this several times! But I was afraid that if I said anything Papa would scold me and spank me. I climbed into bed in silence, lay down and listened to Mama talking. “Have they decided to leave tomorrow? Then we should make a few dishes to give them a farewell dinner, shouldn’t we?”

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“As you wish!” I didn’t hear any more. In my heart, I felt reluctant to let Lan I-niang leave us. In my dream I was writing large characters. Lan I-niang’s hand was on my shoulder just like the night when we walked around with the lantern. I wanted to lift my pen to write but her hand was pressing hard on my shoulder and I couldn’t raise my hand. I couldn’t write anything ... But now I was writing my characters, page by page, and finally before dinner, I managed to finish them. I went to the table with a black mustache and inky fingertips. Lan I-niang was the first to laugh, “So, have you finished drawing your characters?” I sat beside Lan I-niang and my heart was filled with unwillingness to part with her. Mama toasted Lan I-niang and Uncle Te-hsien, “I wish you two a pleasant journey!” Needless to say, Papa didn’t wait for anyone to toast him. He drank himself red in the face until the blue veins on his forehead stood out as thick as earthworms. He raised his wine cup and stuck his face almost directly in front of Lan I-niang’s. Lan I-niang backed away, saying, “Mr. Lin, don’t drink any more. You’ve already had too much to drink.” Papa suddenly straightened up, and putting on the airs of an elderly brother, he drunkenly said, “I am always willing to help my friends. I always like to help them succeed. Isn’t that so? Te-hsien, you must treat her well! She’s like my very own sister!” Papa then turned to

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Lan I-niang, “If he doesn’t treat you well, you just come back here.” Lan I-niang giggled as shyly as if she were an eighteenyear-old and newly-wed. Sung Ma who was waiting on us, also smiled and kept gazing at Lan I-niang with a new expression in her eyes. At the same time, she kept wringing out towels that had been soaked in scented water for Papa to wipe his face. The carriage had long been waiting at the door and our whole family went out to see the pair off. Even Little Sister who was just a month old was allowed to brave the breeze. Hu-fang-ch’iao Road at twilight was very busy. There were people everywhere, coming and going. There were also the neighbors who had already surrounded the carriage, waiting to see something interesting. Sung Ma must have told everyone about it long ago! Lan I-niang had changed into a new person. Her smooth shiny hair in a twisted bun was gone; it was now in the Prince Warren’s style, just like the characters in my storybooks: a row of bangs on her forehead down to her brows and the sides cut straight below her ears. She wore her egg-shell blue silk dress which had been made into a loose bodice with two sleeves set in. Around her neck, she wore a white georgette scarf tied into a big bow, just the same as the Third Aunty of the Chang family who went to Women’s Higher Normal School. She thanked Papa and Mama, then bent over to caress my face,

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“Ying-tzu, study hard. Don’t make your mama angry again like the last time. You’re in the third grade now and a big girl!” I felt like crying and laughing at the same time. I didn’t quite know how I felt as I watched Lan I-niang follow Uncle Te-hsien into the carriage and continue waving at us through the window. As the carriage went further and further away, it began to roll faster, kicking up a large cloud of dust. Then nothing was clear any more. I raised my head to look at Papa who was rubbing his chest with his hand, the way Mama did every time she had heartburn. I felt apologetic toward Papa, and also sympathized with him. I gently pushed at his leg, asking, “Papa, do you want to eat some nutmeg? I’ll go and get some for you.” He didn’t hear me but he shook his head as he gazed at the faraway cloud of dust.

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Donkey Rolls

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The junkman, tapping the handle of his blue cloth duster sharply against the green bowl that was glazed both inside and outside, said, “Listen to this! Where can you find such a green bowl! It’s comparable to Kiangsi porcelain! You’ll have to add something more into the bargain.” Mama wanted to get from him a set of four little stools and one scrubbing board in exchange for a bundle of newspapers, three pairs of old shoes, and two rusted pans. But Sung Ma had her eyes on the green bowl for preparing cucumber salad. I held tightly on to a little stool and would not let anybody take it away. The junkman insisted that Mama add something else. When Mama surrendered an old padded jacket and two stacks of old books, the man still demanded something more, “Add some more, please.” Mama said, “No. Let’s forget it.” And ordered Sung Ma to take all our old junk back into the house. I was afraid that if

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the bargain was called off, the little stool would be returned to the junkman. But, to my surprise, the man said loudly, “All right, take them, it’s a bargain!” he waved his hand dejectedly, “What can I do? This is my first deal today.” The four stools were placed in the shade of the big tree facing the gate. Sung Ma seated the four of us—me, Chuchu, Little Brother and Yen-yen—on the new stools and told us some stories. My youngest sister Yen-yen nestled in her lap, sucking her finger. “How old is your Little Bolt?” I asked. “As old as you are, nine.” Little Bolt was Sung Ma’s son. In the past few days, Sung Ma had been telling us stories of her village, about how the ears of wheat were ripening in the fields, the grass was growing tall on the hillside, and Little Bolt had plucked foxtails to tie them on the ox’s horn. As she talked, she would also work on the thick sole of a shoe, threading it diligently with flaxen string. It was for Little Bolt. “Is he also in the third grade?” I asked. “Do you think country folk are as lucky as you are? They take care of other people’s oxen all year round!” Here she would stop working, lift the awl to scratch her head, and continue, as if talking to herself, “I have to go home to take a look this year. I have a strange feeling. Things don’t seem right.” She looked absentminded and uneasy. I wondered what she could be thinking of. “Then how about your little girl?” To tell the truth, I had heard the story of the little girl

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many times already. The girl, like my brother, was four years old. It was after the birth of the little girl that Sung Ma came to Peking to be hired as a wet nurse. The first place she had come to was ours, and she had stayed. Her milk was good, my brother grew well and healthy. After she settled here, her little new-born girl was taken back to the village by her husband to be nursed by someone else. Every time I asked her this question she would give the same answer, and I never grew tired of listening. “The girl is being nursed by someone we pay.” Sung Ma said. “Will she be returned to you?” “How could my daughter not be returned to me? Don’t you belong to your mother?” She retorted. “Then why don’t you nurse her yourself ? Why have you come to be a wet nurse at our home? Why do you have to pay someone else for that?” “Why? It’s because ... Well, this is something you won’t be able to understand. We country folk have a hard life. My Little Bolt’s father is a ne’er-do-well. He would often beat me at the slightest excuse. So I hardened my heart, left him, and came to the city to earn my own money as a wet nurse.” I remembered the day she came to us. It was winter. She wore a red padded jacket with a white cotton lining which was considerably soiled. As soon as she put her nipple in Little Brother’s mouth, he began to suck, swallowing vigorously. Having his fill, he fell into a sound sleep for a long time, and when he awoke, he did not cry. So Sung Ma was kept as his wet nurse.

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Three days later, her husband came with a donkey which he tied to the tree by the gate. He had a long face and yellow teeth. I wondered how he could be so ugly! Mama had already settled the terms of her wages and the contract was written in an account book: Four silver dollars a month, every year two pieces of silver jewelry and clothing for all four seasons, plus new bedding. She could only go home after sixteen months. The red-jacketed Sung Ma wrapped her baby girl in an old floral-patterned quilt, and handed her to her husband. When she saw them off at the front gate, she began to cry. With her back turned toward them, she wiped her tears with the hem of her jacket, and for a long time she could not lift her head. Then Old Chang, the middleman, coaxed her, “Don’t cry so much, it might stop the flow of your milk.” So Sung Ma stopped crying. She paid the middleman and gave all that was left to her husband. After she had reminded her husband of all the things for him to take care of, the man said, “All right. Don’t worry.” Holding the baby in one arm, he led the donkey out of our gate. A year and four months later, Yellow Tooth came again and asked Sung Ma to go home with him. But Sung Ma could not bear to part with Little Brother, and as Mama was going to have another baby, she stayed on. She counted out a large pile of silver dollars for her husband and he poured them, clinking noisily, into his saddle bag, then left with the donkey. After that, he would come twice a year and tie his donkey at one corner of our yard. The donkey scattered rolls of dung

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all over the ground. Fortunately, they would stay no more than one day. In the big burlap bag that he brought with him each time there would be either large peanuts or dates as presents for my parents—the master and mistress. Such things were plentiful in the villages. I simply could not imagine what our home would be like if Sung Ma really went back home with her husband. Who would get up in the morning to braid my hair? Who would feed Yenyen? Who would come to Little Brother’s rescue when my father spanked him? Who would clean up Chu-chu after she went to the bathroom? None of us could do without her. However, she often brought up the topic of her going home. Recently, she had asked us several times, “What do you think of my going home?” “No! We won’t let you go!” We would unanimously say, all except Yen-yen who could not talk. In spring, the Little Brother had a bad case of measles. We stood around him, looking at his fevered, rash-covered face. He refused to drink the herb medicine of rush roots, and Mama would say, “Well, since you won’t take your medicine, I’ll send your wet nurse home! Go home now, Sung Ma! Give all the clothes and toys to Little Bolt and your little girl!” Sung Ma would then pretend to leave, saying, “Going, I’m going home! I’m going to my Little Bolt and my little girl!” “I’ll take it! I’ll take it! Don’t go!” Little Brother would sheepishly reach out for the bowl in my mother’s hand and empty half of its contents in one breath. This made Sung

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Ma’s heart ache with pity, and she immediately gathered him into her arms and pressed her cheek against his hot, rash-covered face while saying coaxingly, with tears in her eyes, “There, there. I don’t want Little Bolt, I don’t want my little girl, I love only this little boy! I’m not going! I won’t go! I’m staying with you!” Little Brother would be comforted by her patting and fall asleep in her arms. A few days ago, a young man who addressed Sung Ma as Auntie came to pay her a visit. He stayed with us for a couple of days looking for some work. He knew how to make a shade with wire mesh for the lamp at our gate so the bulb could not be stolen. Sung Ma asked him, “Did you see Little Bolt before you came to Peking?” “Uh,” he stared, and looked startled, “No, I didn’t see him. I came from my uncle’s at Liu Village.” “Oh,” Sung Ma hesitated, thoughtfully silent, then asked again, “since you came from Liu Village, and my little girl is being nursed by Chin-tzu’s mother, is the girl healthy?” “Uh,” the young man looked uneasy, “Well, no ... no, I don’t know. But she must be all right. Don’t worry!” Then, having hesitated for a moment, he added, “Why don’t you go home to take a look? You’ve been away for three or four years.” After the young man left, Sung Ma told my mother that the way he hummed and hawed in his answering made her very uneasy. Mama comforted her, “I think this nephew of yours is not dependable. You see, first he said that he had come from your village, then he said he came from his uncle’s. He was not

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consistent even with his own whereabouts, how could he know anything about your children?” Sung Ma was still troubled. She said, “I’ve had a strange feeling since the beginning of this year, and had quite a few bad dreams.” She had gone to see a fortune teller and asked him to interpret the dreams. On the following Sunday she asked me to write a letter home for her again. I could memorize her home address by then: Home-letter to Feng Ta-ming, Feng Village, Mt. Cowshed, Shun-yi County. “How good it is to have learned reading and writing. Look at you, you’re nine years old and can write a letter. This way, you’ll never get lost.” “What do you want to say in the letter?” With a pen in hand and a piece of paper on the desk, I was ready. “Ask him whether he and the children are all right at home. Tell Little Bolt to be careful when he watches the ox in the field, don’t go and play in the stream. I have made two pairs of shoes, a jacket and a pair of trousers for him. Remind him to pay the nurse and tell her that I appreciate very much her taking care of my child. With the nearly two hundred silver dollars I sent home, he should have bought back the land we had mortgaged, so we do not have to till for others again. I am fine here, only I miss the children so much. Next time when he comes to the city, bring Little Bolt with him and let me have a look at him, so I won’t be worried. And ...” “This is too long for me,” I cut short her stream of words, “It is better for Papa to write this.”

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The letter my father wrote was sent the next day, and Sung Ma was cheerful for the next few days. She would ask Little Brother, “When Little Bolt comes, will you let him sit on your little stool?” “I will!” Little Brother said and immediately stood up. “I will, too.” Chu-chu said. “When Little Bolt comes, how about going to school with me?” I said. “That would be very nice, only if your mother agrees to let him stay.” “I’ll ask her. She often listens to me.” “Don’t laugh at Little Bolt when he comes, Ying-tzu. You often laugh at people. He’s from the country, a country bumpkin!” The way Sung Ma talked made it seem that the boy might appear any minute. She looked at me and added, “Ying-tzu, he must be taller than you now. Four years! How tall he must have grown!” In high spirits, Sung Ma lifted Yen-yen onto her knees, bouncing her up and down as she sang, Egg, egg shell, in it sits a boy. The boy goes to the market; There sits a granny, granny goes to the temple; There sits a girl, The girl comes out to light a lamp, It burns her nose and eyes!

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While singing, she held Yen-yen’s fingers to her nose and eyes. Yen-yen giggled happily. Sung Ma went on singing, this time in a faster tempo: Locust, locust, ah the locust tree, Under it is built a stage. All the girls have come, All excepting mine. Hark, hark, here she comes, Riding a donkey, holding an umbrella, Her bottom bare, her hair coiled up ...

The sun had slanted to the west, its golden light streamed through the leaves of the tree, shining into my eyes, I leaned my head to one side to avoid the dazzling sun. Suddenly I saw, far away, a dark speck moving toward us from the end of the hu-t’ung. I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the sunlight and looked carefully. It was a donkey! Teh-teh-teh, it was coming toward our house. The man leading the donkey was in a blue cotton jacket all covered with dust. Indeed, it was no other but Sung Ma’s husband, Yellow Tooth! I cried out to Sung Ma, “Look! Someone is really coming on a donkey!” The singing stopped abruptly. Sung Ma turned and gazed in surprise. Yellow Tooth said, “Whoa ... whoa!” and the donkey halted in front of us.

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Sung Ma did not say anything, nor did she stand up. Her smiles had vanished. Her face had tightened as she stared at her husband as if waiting expectantly for something. Yellow Tooth did not say anything either. He busied himself with slapping the dust off his clothes, so that it flew everywhere. I covered my nose with my hand in disgust. How I disliked him! He then took off his straw hat to fan himself, and said without addressing anyone in particular, “It’s so hot!” Sung Ma could not contain herself any longer, and asked him, “Where’s the boy?” “He is, uh ... he’s at his aunt’s home.” Not looking at Sung Ma, he again lifted his feet to brush the dust off his shoes. His white cotton socks had turned yellowish. All his socks were made by Sung Ma, thickly padded and, like his shoes, the soles were patiently, neatly sewn. I looked at the bag on the donkey’s back, and wondered what was inside this time. Yellow Tooth opened it and offered me a handful of dried dates. With only one bite, I found them crisp, pungent and fragrant. “Ying-tzu, take Chu-chu to play at Hsiao-hung’s house. Take some more dates with you and give them some.” Sung Ma said. As I was leaving with Chu-chu, I saw Sung Ma put the four new stools away. With Yen-yen in her arms, and Little Brother holding onto one end of her jacket, she headed for the house. Yellow Tooth followed with the donkey into the courtyard. He

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was sure to stay overnight. His donkey would roll all over the ground, and Papa’s flowers would be trampled again. It was nearly dark when we returned from Hsiao-hung’s house. We did not eat many of the dates. Hsiao-hung had strung them into a necklace and hung it around my neck. When I entered the front gate, I saw Sung Ma and her husband sitting in the entrance hall. Yellow Tooth sat on one of the new stools, staring blankly, and Sung Ma was crying, her hands covering her face to muffle her sobs. Supper was ready on the table. Mama was feeding Yenyen, her brows knitted, lips tightly pressed, shaking her head and sighing. Something must be wrong. “Ma,” I whispered, “Sung Ma’s crying.” Mama signaled her hand to keep me quiet. What could have happened that made her look so serious? “Sung Ma’s Little Bolt has died.” Mama’s voice was husky. She turned to Papa and said, “The poor boy has been dead for almost two years, and he’s only telling her now. No wonder Sung Ma has been feeling uneasy lately, and wrote her husband to come so she could question him. There was a meaning to what her nephew said during his visit last time. No one can stand the shock of two pieces of bad news at the same time!” Finding nothing to say, Papa could only shake his head and sigh. I felt very sad, too. What was the other bad news? I did not dare to ask.

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Mama told me to ask Sung Ma to come in. I sensed the seriousness of the whole thing, and did not dare holler at her this time when I went to the doorway. I said gently, “Sung Ma, Mama wants to talk to you.” It took Sung Ma some time to stop crying. When she came inside, Mama said, “Why don’t you go home with him tomorrow to have a look at things? You’ve been away from home for quite a few years.” “Now the children are gone, what am I going home for? I’m not going, not in this life!” Sung Ma said fiercely with tear-reddened eyes. She took the spoon from my mother’s hand and began to feed Yen-yen. It was a gesture of determination to show that she would not leave our family. “To what kind of people did your husband give your baby girl? Can she be found and gotten back?” “How could he be so heartless!” Sung Ma gnashed her teeth in anger, “He must have given the baby away the day he took her from me. It was on his way home, most probably before he even went out of the Ha-teh Gate! He said he had not taken their money. I don’t believe him!” “To whom did he give the baby? If he knows the name then she still can be found.” “He said they were about forty years old, a couple without children. The man was a carriage driver. But who knows whether he is telling the truth or not.” “Make sure who they are, it won’t hurt to try and find out.” So this was what had happened! Little Bolt and the baby girl who had always been in Sung Ma’s thoughts and her stories

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were both gone! To whom had her husband given the shoes and clothes Sung Ma had made and sent home? To what kind of people did he give the baby girl wrapped in the old cotton quilt? I also wanted to know how Little Bolt had died. Looking at Sung Ma’s reddened eyes, I did not dare to ask. “I think it is better for you to go home.” Mother advised again. Sung Ma shook her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. She fed Yen-yen spoonful after spoonful, and Yenyen swallowed each mouthful with her eyes fixed steadily on Sung Ma for she had never seen her like that before. Sung Ma bathed the four of us as usual, and put talcum powder on our faces and necks. She put Little Brother and Yen-yen to bed as usual, but she was in no mood for singing any lullabies. She fanned them to sleep, her fan moving mechanically. Everything was as usual but she did not eat any supper, nor did she say a word to her husband. The man, left alone in the doorway, lighted his long pipe with his flintstone and smoked noisily. The donkey, lying on the ground, must have become hungry for it suddenly raised its head with a loud bray. How very, very unpleasant it sounded! Yellow Tooth went to open a bag of dried grass for it. When the donkey saw his food, he rolled over and got up. His feet trampled two or three of Papa’s tuberoses at the edge of the flowerbed. While eating his hay, the donkey wrinkled his nose with each bite, showing its yellow teeth. Ah, I realized then why Sung Ma’s husband looked familiar to me. He resembled the donkey! How could Sung Ma have married Yellow Tooth, the stupid donkey?

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The next morning when I got up and looked out the window, I found the donkey gone and Sung Ma sweeping up the rolls of dung on the ground. She saw me and beckoned me to go out. I ran out to her, and she said, “Ying-tzu, don’t run off today, I want you to go out with me later. You can read so you can help me.” “Where are we going?” I was very surprised. “To the places around Ha-teh Gate to look for ...” She began crying again and as she bent over to sweep the rolls of dung into the dust pan, her tears also dripped down on them, “to look for my little girl.” “All right,” I said. Sung Ma and I slipped out while Mama kept Little Brother and the other little ones playing in the house. We had not walked far from our home when Sung Ma began to feel uneasy, “I should have brought Little Brother with us. When he can’t find me, he will cry. He has never been parted from me for a single moment.” It was exactly because of this that Sung Ma had stayed with us year after year. I was encouraged to ask, “How did Little Bolt die, Sung Ma?” “Didn’t I tell you that there is a river behind the Feng Village? ...” “Yes, you said you had often told Little Bolt to be careful when he watched the ox, and not to play too much in the river.” “When he drowned in the river, he wasn’t old enough to watch oxen. He died the year your mother gave birth to Yen-yen.” “What was Yellow—eh, your husband doing at that time?”

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“He said he was working in the field. But I’m sure that he was gambling in the shack at the hillside. The boy must have been hungry for a whole day and had gone to ask him for something to eat. If he hadn’t gone to the shack and been driven out by his father, the boy couldn’t have gone near the river at the back of the hill.” “Why did your husband give the baby girl away?” “Wouldn’t it be much easier on him? After all, it was a girl, and girls are worthless. If Little Bolt hadn’t died, I won’t mind so much. Now I have to get her back, even if I have to spend some money.” Sung Ma said that we should start from Jung-hsien Hut’ung, and after passing through two streets, go out from East Chiao-min Lane, and on to Ha-teh Gate Street. On the way another question suddenly came to my mind, “Sung Ma, don’t you regret you came to stay with us and lost both of your children?” “I do regret ... regret that I hadn’t brought Little Bolt to the city and sent him to school with you.” “When you find your daughter, will you go home?” “Hmm,” Sung Ma responded absentmindedly. She had not really heard what I said. When we reached the Bank of China on West Chiao-min Lane, Sung Ma stopped and rested for a while on the marble steps. A passing vendor also stopped there. He set up a wooden frame and put a wooden board on it. Then removing the cloth that covered it, he started making something from yellow dough.

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“Sung Ma, what’s he making?” “Eh?” Sung Ma, lost in thought, was staring at the tiles of the sidewalk. She looked at the vendor and said, “Those cakes are called donkey rolls. He first steams the yellow millet rice, makes small cakes with brown sugar inside, then rolls them in greenpea flour. They taste quite good. You want to try some?” How interesting it was to call something to eat “donkey rolls”! How could I resist? I swallowed and nodded my head. Sung Ma bought two for me, also a few more which she wrapped carefully in a handkerchief. “Are those for your daughter?” I asked. At the end of East Chiao-min Lane, we could see the bustling Ha-teh Gate Street. Standing in front of the American Hospital, we did not know in which direction to turn. Sung Ma’s back was all wet with perspiration. She lifted the shoulders of her cotton blouse, twitching it up and down for some air, and looked around in all directions. “Let’s go that way.” She pointed to the opposite side of the road where there was a row of one-storied shops. We walked past a few stores and did find a place with carriages to hire. It was quite dark inside. Someone was sitting idly outside the door and Sung Ma asked, “Could you tell me if there’s a carriage driver here who has a little girl?” The man looked us over curiously, “Who are you?” “Somebody from our hometown asked me to bring a message.”

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The man pointed to a small alley on the other side of the road, “He’s at home. Go down to the end of the alley and you’ll find him.” Sung Ma was very excited. She thanked the man many times and taking my hand, walked into the alley. At the end of the dead end alley we came to a little black door. It was closed. We gave it a light push and it opened. A few children were playing in the courtyard. “Excuse me. Is anyone home?” Sung Ma raised her voice. One of the boys shouted out toward the house several times, “Grandma, somebody is looking for you.” An old woman emerged from the house. She was deaf and almost blind, so she did not see us at the door. Neither did she hear what the boys said. It was only when they pointed at us that she came to the door. Sung Ma asked in a loud voice. “How many families live here in this compound?” “Ah, ah, only one.” She could hear only when she cupped her hand over her ear. “Do you have a girl?” “Yes, are you looking for the mother of the children?” She pointed at the three boys. Sung Ma realized that it was not the right place. She shook her head and, not waiting for the old woman to finish, she said, “Sorry, we’ve made a mistake.” We walked from the inside of Ha-teh Gate to the outside of Ha-teh Gate, altogether stopping at three horse carriage companies, but everyone shook their heads in answer to

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her questions. Finally, we followed the same route back and headed home. Sung Ma did not say a word along the way, and it was only after quite a while that she thought to ask me, “Ying-tzu, are you tired from walking so much? How about taking a rickshaw home?” I shook my head. Looking up, I saw her rubbing her forehead above the bridge of her nose, between her eyebrows; her eyes were closed and she seemed unable to keep her balance as if she were going to faint. Sometime later, she again asked me, “Are you hungry?” She unwrapped her handkerchief and took out one of the donkey rolls. The greenish pea powder was already dampened by the dough. I said, “Ah, donkey roll!” and put it into my mouth. Then I said to Sung Ma, “Now I know why they’re called ‘donkey rolls.’ After your donkey gets up from rolling on the ground, there is always a heap of such rolls left on the ground.” I took one from her and showed her, “Look, doesn’t it look like rolls of the donkey’s dung?” I meant to make Sung Ma laugh, but she did not laugh. She only said, “All right, eat it!” Half a month passed. Sung Ma said that she had visited all the carriage companies in Peking and had not found the slightest trace of the girl. No more did we sit in the shade of the tree, listening to stories of Little Bolt watching oxen on the hillside; nor did we see Sung Ma with any shoe soles in her hands. Papa, also, was no longer asked to write letters home for her. Sung Ma would turn the silver bracelet on her wrist around and around, staring in blank silence.

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It was winter again. Yellow Tooth came to our house once more. Sung Ma left him in the servants’ quarters the whole day without a word to him. It snowed that night. After supper, we all crowded at the window to look at the courtyard. Sung Ma turned on the light in the yard and as it shone on the snow, it looked smooth and bright. Snow continued falling, layer after layer covering the ground. Sung Ma fed Yen-yen some frozen persimmons and I read a lesson in my school reader, “Snowing,” One flake, one flake, yet another flake, Two flakes, three flakes, four and five flakes, Six flakes, seven flakes, eight and nine flakes, Flying among the rushes and vanishing.

Our teacher told us that it was written by an emperor who did not know how to write poetry. To help him out, a courtier wrote the last line for him. Anyway, it was easy to recite and sounded pleasant. Mama was working on Yen-yen’s little padded jacket of red brocade. She tore little, thin pieces from the batch of cotton-wool, and laid them out evenly, layer after layer. She said to Sung Ma, “Your husband has come because I asked the master to write him without telling you. Go home with him. Next year when you have a baby boy you can come back to us. The son that is yours will not die; the wealth that is yours will not be parted from you. It is fate that Little Bolt and the girl was not to be with you. What can you do? You cannot stop having

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children at your age.” Sung Ma did not say anything, and Mama asked again, “What do you think?” “Maybe you’re right. I’ll go home to settle the account with him.” Sung Ma finally said. Papa and Mama laughed. “But what about these children?” Sung Ma said. “Are you worried that I may not treat them well?” Mama said with a smile. Sung Ma turned to me and said, “You’re a big school girl, Ying-tzu, don’t bully Little Brother. Don’t always go to your father and tell on him, he’s still a baby.” Little Brother had already fallen asleep in the chair. He was very naughty now and often climbed up on to the desk and made a mess of my satchel. Sung Ma put him to bed and took off his shoes gently so as not to wake him up. She then said with a sigh, “Who knows what a row he’ll make when he doesn’t see me tomorrow morning.” Here she turned to my mother, “He’s quite stubborn. Ask the master not to spank him so often for little mistakes. Yen-yen has a cough these days, it may be good to give her some steamed pear with rock sugar. I’ll take Ying-tzu’s cotton wool-padded shoes home and when they’re finished, I’ll ask someone to bring them into the city to you. All of Chu-chu’s socks need mending. Also ... I think I’d better ... ” She stopped with a sigh and could not continue. Mama brought out the contract and asked Papa to read it for her. She figured out some money for this or that items and

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paid her. Sung Ma took the money without even counting it, not seeming to care. Smiling piteously, she said, “I can’t believe that I’m really going.” “Go to bed now. You’ll have to get up early tomorrow.” Mama said. Sung Ma opened the door and looked at the sky as she said, “When I came to the city that year, it was snowing heavily, goose feather flakes. How fast time goes! As if in a flash, four years have passed!” The red padded jacket she wore when she came had long been ripped apart, the cotton stuffing had been exchanged with the junkman for yew seeds which, when soaked in water, could make hair look shiny; the red cloth and lining were used for making the soles of Little Bolt’s shoes. “Mama, will Sung Ma come back, once she leaves us?” I asked Mama as I lay in bed. Mama hushed me with a wave of her hand, afraid that I might wake up Little Brother. She spoke in a muffled voice, “Ying-tzu, she has to go home now. Maybe next year when it snows she will come back with a new baby.” “Is she going to be a wet nurse for us again? So you must have a new baby sister for us, too!” “Childish nonsense!” She scolded me with a straight face. “Who’s going to braid my hair for me tomorrow morning?” My hair was short and brown, very hard to manage. Every morning I would urge Sung Ma imperiously to hurry and she would scold me, “If you get into the habit of being

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impatient, you’ll probably even be like that when you are climbing into your wedding sedan chair. How people will laugh at you!” Mama said, “If you get up earlier tomorrow morning, there may be time for Sung Ma to braid your hair for you before she leaves.” I woke up at the break of dawn and heard a rustling sound outside the window. Something flashed into my mind, I got up immediately and ran to the window. The snow had stopped. On the bare branches were layers of snow. The donkey was tied to the tree and whenever it moved, the snow on the branches would fall on its back. I quietly put on my clothes and went to find Sung Ma in her room. She was surprised to see me up so early. I said, “Sung Ma, braid my hair for me.” She was unusually gentle that morning, and did not nag me at all. After the donkey was fed, Yellow Tooth led it to the gate. On its back were laid several padded quilts, making a seat as thick as a sofa cushion. It must be very comfortable to sit on. Sung Ma was all packed and ready to go. She wrapped a woolen scarf around her hair and twice around her neck. She said to me, “I won’t disturb your mother at this hour. The rice porridge on the stove is already cooked! Ying-tzu, be a good student. You’re the eldest sister, you must behave well.” Having said this, she got up and sat crosslegged on the back of the donkey. The way she sat was quite a sight!

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Yellow Tooth gave the donkey a pat on its rear end, and it started walking forward, leaving clear hoof prints, one after another, on the thick snow. Yellow Tooth followed behind, calling out as he ran. “Teh ... Teh ... Teh ...” The string of little bells tied around the donkey’s neck jingled, a very pleasant sound in the fresh morning air after the heavy snowfall.

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Papa’s Flowers Have Fallen— And I Was No Longer a Child

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The newly built school auditorium was crowded. The eight front rows were occupied by the graduating class and I was seated in the middle of the first row. On the left lapel of my uniform jacket was a pink oleander which Mama had plucked from our courtyard and pinned on for me before I left for school. She said, “The oleander was planted by your papa. Wearing it will be as if Papa were watching you on the stage.” My papa was ill in the hospital, and could not come to attend my graduation ceremony. I had visited him the day before. His throat was swollen, and his voice low and husky. I told him that I was going to represent the graduating class to receive the diplomas in the ceremony, and also to deliver the farewell speech expressing our thanks. Then I asked my papa whether he could get up and go to attend my graduation ceremony. Six years ago when he attended the farewell party for the graduating class,

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he urged me to study hard so that six years later I might also represent my class in delivering the farewell address. Today, the special date “six years later” had arrived, and I really had been chosen for this role. Papa took my hand and smilingly said in a husky voice, “How can I go?” I said, “Papa, if you don’t go, I’ll be afraid. With you there I won’t be nervous when I go up onto the stage to speak.” Papa said, “Ying-tzu, don’t be afraid. No matter what difficulties you may face, as long as you can summon up the courage, you will get through.” “Then why don’t you also summon up your courage to get up from bed and go to my school?” Papa looked at me and shook his head without saying anything. He turned his face to the wall and, lifting his hand, he looked at his nails for a while, then he turned to face me and said, “You will have to get up early tomorrow morning and get ready for school. This will be your last day of primary school, you must not be late.” “Yes, I know, Papa.” “When Papa is not with you, you have to take care of yourself, and take care of your sisters and brothers. You’re a big girl now, aren’t you?” “Yes, I am.” Although I assented, what Papa said made me uneasy. I had not been late to school ever since that incident six years ago. It happened when I was in the first grade. I had the bad

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habit of lingering in bed in the mornings. Every morning when I woke up and saw the sun shining on the window, a wave of depression would sweep over me. It was already late and I had to get up, wash my face, have my hair plaited, put on my uniform, and walk to school. I knew that I would again be punished to stand by the door of the classroom, and the eyes of my classmates would be on me. Although I was lazy, I was fully conscious of the feeling of shame! So every morning I would run all the way to school, filled with worry and dread. The worst part was that Papa did not allow us children to go to school in a rickshaw, no matter how late it was. One morning, it was raining hard. When I woke up, I knew that it was quite late, because Papa was already at the table having his breakfast. I watched and listened to the rain, nearly overwhelmed with worry. I was not only late for school, but would also be forced by my mother to wear that oversized lined jacket (in summer time!), and walk to school, shuffling along in a pair of ill-fitting galoshes, also holding a big oilpaper umbrella! Such an awkward picture emboldened me to stay in bed and not to get up at all. A moment later my mother came. She was surprised to see me still in bed, and urged me to get up. I frowned and begged her in a low voice, “Mama, it’s so late now, can I not go today?” Mama could never make Papa’s decisions for him. As she turned to go out, Papa came in. He stood by my bedside, gaunt and tall, his eyes fixed on me, “Why are you still in bed? Get up now, get up!”

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“It’s already late, Papa.” I was bold enough to argue. “You still have to go, even though it is late. How can you play hooky? Up!” One-word orders are always the most authoritative. I don’t know what had come over me to make me so bold and stubborn, I would not move. Papa was outraged. With one swift lunge, he grabbed me up from the bed. My tears began to flow. Papa looked around, picked up a feather duster lying on the table, and grasping the feather end of it in his hand, the cane handle swished down with a whistling sound. I was being whipped! To dodge the whipping, I rolled from one end of the bed to the other, and from the bed on to the floor, my cries reinforced by the pouring rain outside. I cried and dodged, and finally still had to go to school in the pouring rain. Looking very much like a miserable little dog, I was put in a rickshaw by Sung Ma—it was the first time that we spent five copper coins for a rickshaw to go to school. As I sat behind the oil-cloth covering of the rickshaw, still sobbing, I rolled up my trouser legs and examined the wounds. The welts from the whipping were red and hot. Then I pulled the trouser legs further down so as to cover them up. I was afraid my classmates would laugh and shame me. Although I was late, the teacher did not punish me to stand outside the door. It was raining hard, so I was excused. The teacher told us to be quiet for a while before starting our lessons. All of us must sit up straight, with our hands behind our back, eyes closed, and think for five minutes in

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silence. The teacher said, think hard. Have you listened to your parents and teachers? Have you done your homework? Have you brought with you all the things you need for class today? Did you say goodbye to your parents nicely? ... At this point, I had to sniffle hard. Fortunately my eyes were closed, so the tears could not seep out. In the silence, my shoulder was patted. I opened my eyes and saw the teacher standing by my desk, his eyes directing my attention to the window. I turned my head quickly, and there was the gaunt, tall figure of my papa! My heart which had just calmed down began to be afraid again. Why did Papa follow me to school? Papa beckoned me to go out of the classroom. I looked at the teacher, he nodded with a reassuring smile. I walked out of the classroom and stood facing Papa. He said nothing as he untied the parcel in his hands and took out my lined floral-print jacket. He handed it to me, watched me put it on, and gave me two copper coins. What happened later, I cannot remember now. It was, after all, six years ago. All I remember is that since that day, I have been one of the students who would stand at the school gate waiting for the janitor to open it in the mornings. I remember those winter mornings, standing before the school gate, eating a hot baked sweet potato held in the fingers that protruded from the half-mittens that I wore. In early summer mornings, I often stood waiting for the gate to open with some newly plucked tuberoses for my favorite Teacher Han. She taught me singing and dancing.

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Ah, those unforgettable mornings! Year after year, they have all passed away. Today is my last day in this school! Tang, tang, tang, ..., the bell rang and the graduation ceremony was about to begin. I looked at the sky outside, it was cloudy. A thought suddenly came to me: Would it be possible for Papa to get up from his hospital bed and bring me my lined floral-print jacket? I also pondered as to when Papa could recover from his illness? Why were my mother’s eyes red and swollen this morning? Papa had not added any fertilizer in the big pots of pomegranate and oleanders this spring. The news of my uncle’s death in the hands of the Japanese had upset him and made him spit blood. Approaching the Dragon-boat festival, the pomegranate flowers that bloomed were not as red, nor as large, as before. When autumn comes, would Papa again buy that many pots of chrysanthemums and place them all over the courtyard, under the eaves, along the corridors, and on the flower stands in the living room? How Papa loved flowers! Every day when he came home from work, we would wait for him at the gate. He would push his straw hat to the back of his head and pick up Little Brother in one arm. When he passed the water tap, he would pick up the full water sprinkler and enter the back yard singing. The first thing he did would be to water his flowers. The sun was about to set then, and the yard was cooled by the evening breeze. Papa would pluck a jasmine blossom and stick it into the hair of my skinny sister. Uncle Ch’en had once said to him, “Mr. Lin, it is because you love flowers so much that your wife has had

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so many daughters!” I have four sisters, only two brothers, and I was only twelve ... Why did I keep thinking of all this? Dean Han, was beginning his opening speech on the stage, saying very seriously, “You are now graduated and will be leaving this school where you have studied for six years. When you go to high school, you will no longer be children. Some day when you come back to pay us a visit, I will be happy to see that you have grown taller and more grown-up ...” Then, the valedictory song that we had sung in the past five years for the classes before us, was now sung for us: Beyond pavilions, beside old paths, Green grass merging with sky, As you go, asking when you will return Returning, do not loiter on the way ... Friends scattered to far corners of the earth Rarely in this life the joy of meeting, Only too many partings ...

I began to cry. The whole graduating class was in tears. How nice it was to think of ourselves as becoming taller and more grown-up, but how frightening too! When we do return for a visit, dear teachers, please always think of us as children, no matter how tall we may have grown or how big! To be grown-up, people often ask me to be grown-up. Sung Ma said to me before she went home, “Ying-tzu, you’ve grown up, you must not quarrel with

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Little Brother, he’s still little.” When Lan I-niang stepped into the carriage with the “four-eyed dog,” she said, “Ying-tzu, you have grown up, don’t make your mother angry any more!” The man squatting in the grass of the ruined yard said, “When you graduate from primary school, you’ll be grownup. Let us go and see the sea.” However, together with my growing-up, these people have all disappeared. Have they vanished with my childhood? Even Papa did not treat me as a child. Once he sent me on an errand, saying, “Ying-tzu, go and mail this money to Uncle Ch’en who is studying in Japan.” “But, Papa, ...” “Don’t be afraid, Ying-tzu. You have to learn many things, so later you can be of help to your mother. You are the eldest.” So he counted out the money, and told me how to mail it at the Bank of Japan on East Chiao-min Lane—I was to go all the way to the last counter and ask for a money transfer form, fill it out with “Seventy gold dollars only” and the address in Yokohama, Japan, then hand it to the man behind the counter. I was afraid and reluctant, but I had to brace myself and go—the way Papa had always taught me to do, no matter how difficult things were, if you summon up your courage, you will make it. “Be brave and learn, be brave, Ying-tzu.” He encouraged me before I left.

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With the roll of bills clutched tightly in my hand, I went to the bank. While walking down the steps of the bank, I could see dandelions all over the flower beds along East Chiao-min Lane. It made me happy to think that I had passed the test. Hurry home, tell Papa, and ask him to plant dandelions in his flowerbeds tomorrow. Hurry home! Hurry home! Go home with the newly received primary school diploma—the rolled up white paper tied with a red ribbon. I urged myself, as if afraid that I might miss something important. Why did I have such a strange feeling? I entered the gate. It was all quiet. My four sisters and two brothers were all seated on the little stools in the yard, playing with sand. Several branches of the oleander plants along the side had begun to droop, wilting and miserable looking. It was because Papa had not been taking care of them this year—they needed pruning, tying, and fertilizing. A few unripe pomegranates were scattered about the pot. I turned angrily to the children and asked, “Who picked Papa’s pomegranates? I’m going to tell Papa.” My sisters’ eyes opened wide with surprise. They shook their heads and protested, “They fell by themselves.” As I was picking up one of the small green pomegranates, Lao Kao, our cook who had one finger missing, came from outside and said, “Miss, don’t talk about telling your papa anything. Your mama just called from the hospital, she wants you to go there right away. Your father has already ...”

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Why didn’t he finish his sentence? Suddenly, I panicked, and cried out loudly, “What did you say, Lao Kao?” “Miss, when you go to the hospital, try to console your mother. You’re the eldest of the children, you’re the eldest.” My skinny sister was fighting with Yen-yen over a toy; Little Brother was pouring sand into a bottle. Yes, among all of us, I was a small grown-up. I said to Lao Kao, “Lao Kao, I know what has happened, I’m going to the hospital right away.” Never before had I been so composed, so calm. I put my diploma into a drawer of the desk. When I came out of the house, Lao Kao had already hired a rickshaw for me to go to the hospital. Walking through the courtyard, I looked at the drooping oleander plant and said silently to myself, Papa’s flowers have fallen And I am no longer a child.

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Through the keen eyes and curious mind of a young girl, Ying-tzu, we are given a glimpse into the adult world of Peking in the 1920s. The five sequential stories in this collection can be read as either stand-alone pieces, or as a novel, due to the cleverly constructed themes and character development. Exploring ideas of loss and bewilderment, Lin Hai-yin carefully captures the transition from childhood to adulthood. Shielded by a child’s innocence, we are taken on a journey of discovery as Ying-tzu grapples with the uncertainties of human relationships as well as her developing awareness of the world around her. Poignant and poetic, it is hard not to be moved by Memories of Peking: South Side Stories.