Can Xue: Five Spice Street

After this, Old Woman Jin changed greatly. Sometimes when she got up in the morning, she felt a tremendous confidence in her body. She looked at herself in the mirror, assumed various winning poses, and then decided to get rid of the outer clothing that veiled her body. She wanted to achieve a ‘‘complete revelation of her soul.’’ She felt that all the conditions for this were already in place. And so she started going naked above the waist in order to bring about this ‘‘revelation.’’ It’s too bad the aesthetic judgment of the people of Five Spice Street wasn’t receptive to this kind of ‘‘revelation.’’ Their reaction was completely cold; all did their best to avert their gaze and pretend not to see this old woman’s naked body. There was another major change in Old Woman Jin’s life: she made trouble during Madam X’s nighttime activities. If anyone had the guts to ask about this, she would raise her fist toward the sky and say, ‘‘Bah! It was a great mistake! I’ve been contemptibly robbed of my achievement! X? Who’s X? Isn’t it simply me? Of course it is. Who besides me has her demonic power? But you all blindly believe the deception that has turned pretense into reality. I proclaim loudly, I am X and X is I!’’ At dusk, she always fidgeted; unable to sit still at home, she ran into Madam X’s home and made off with one of her mirrors. She boasted she had mastered all the minutest details about Madam X and had long since ‘‘defeated’’ her, claiming Madam X was now on the point of ‘‘retiring’’ from Five Spice Street. When she said this, naturally she didn’t forget to jiggle her breasts for the enjoyment of others and then call out the coal worker’s name, asking him to ‘‘give evidence.’’ Everyone on Five Spice Street surrendered to her awesome presence.

And how about our young coal worker? It was really sad and hopeless to talk about him. Why on earth had he been born in the first place? And, since he had been, why had he suffered so many trials? Would this young guy who had suffered so much ever be able to recover? But let’s not worry about his future; let’s return to the present. All of a sudden, he’s become a schizophrenic: apart from going to Old Woman Jin’s, he stays behind closed doors all day and doesn’t go out. Sometimes he could produce a blurry image in his blank brain: the image had a lot of mist-like lace, in the center of which was something resembling Madam X’s silhouette or something that led people to think of her silhouette. It was only when he stepped into Old Woman Jin’s home and ‘‘fooled around’’ with her that this image was produced. At such times, he often trembled with joy and crowed like a rooster. So it was as if bewitched that he made his way into Old Woman Jin’s home every day, as if addicted to opium. No one could have imagined that this half-dead old hag who sold used books would suddenly flourish! That she would stand above the people of Five Spice Street! And then there was Zhou Sanji. Every day he watched helplessly as the coal worker walked into the home next door. Sometimes he went outside bare-assed, peed, and then went back in. The pleasure he’d had for decades was completely gone. Would he lose his mind and act like a lunatic?

Madam X wasn’t the least aware of Old Woman Jin’s wild ambush. As usual, she took it easy, was unconcerned, and remained precise in her manner. A case in point was a conversation with her husband:

Husband: If the crazy old woman comes back for another heist, should I beat her up?

Madam X: For twenty minutes today, I once again experienced a feeling of supreme tranquility. I think we should buy some more mirrors and put them away in boxes to use later.

Husband: I’m a little perturbed by what that woman is doing. How come you’re indifferent to it?

Madam X: Just listen carefully to your pulse. A cloud will pass slowly before your eyes and then everything that’s bothering you will vanish. And the next time, your eyes will be cloudy and your teeth will sparkle like stars, and you won’t even be aware of some old lady arriving. We can hide the mirrors.

It seems we said above that Madam X not only affected people intimately related to her but also could secretly control others. Although she had never been aware of this ability, and had not deliberately made use of it, it was effective. After their talk, her handsome husband was of course a little confused, and he had to blunt his annoyance whenever Old Woman Jin intruded. As time passed, he even forgot what the old woman looked like, and once when they ran into each other, he asked in surprise, ‘‘Who are you?’’ Then, as if nothing had happened, he went about his own business. He wasn’t at all angry when he caught her turning things upside down in his home. This sort of thing happened often. When he was clearheaded, he still argued with the old woman, even striking her once. At those times, he grumbled that his wife turned a deaf ear, but soon he was on the same wave length with her again.

After ‘‘sitting and waiting’’ for some days, a chance opportunity allowed our likable widow to get hold of another letter from Mr. Q to Madam X. The letter referred to Madam X’s nighttime occupation. Although it was filled with innuendo and secret codes, the widow-relying on her ample experience and her astonishing ability to ferret out sexual relationships-seemed to discover a little something. The letter was like all the others between Mr. Q and Madam X: there was neither salutation nor signature, nor even beginning or end. The whole letter was artificial-hypocritically friendly, enough to turn your stomach. (At this point, the widow again raised doubts she’d been harboring for a long time: were these letters plagiarized, paragraph by paragraph, from the classics? This would save a lot of trouble and at the same time it would be unconventional and cater to the other’s vanity, something the two idiots were happy to do.) Below are some excerpts: i. ‘‘I hear your eyes are inflamed. I’m so worried that I’m on pins and needles-really, really afraid. If you go blind, then what? Of course you have your reasons to be unconcerned. You don’t think vision is any good for you. On nights when the cool wind gently blows, you gaze sedately into those mirrors, a slight smile on your face, mysterious and sexy. I can’t do this. I’ve tried. Even if I close my eyes tight, my vision still penetrates my eyelids and takes in the outside world, filled with dense fog. I become delirious and panicky, and when I walk, I bump along and stumble, acting like a buffoon. At such times, I can always see your sprite-like smile, and so I hate you, and struggle with all my might to resist something.’’

2. ‘‘… Last night, you once again flew from the mirror to the night sky. At the time, I was lost in thought when suddenly I heard a hu and knew it was you. I pricked up my ears and followed you with my imagination. Your bare feet stirred up a puff of cool wind that blew against my face. During the day, I heard that someone wanted to retaliate against you. (One of the teenage boys or girls?) He might lurk under the bed or behind the cupboard. You have to carefully check the places in the room where someone could hide, and sweep those spots with the broom I gave you. You’ll ridicule me again for being nervous. I know you’ll say, ‘I can’t sense that person. Generally it’s hard for me to sense other people. How can he hurt me?’ I can imagine how you’ll look as you say this. No matter what, I’ll patrol outside your room all night tonight. I’m afraid of that person-that desperado.’’

3. ‘‘You say you can ‘see clearly with your sensory organs’ for a long time: that’s because you know how to use those mirrors. When you sit down, you can immediately ‘enter a meditative state.’ I can only occasionally experience that state (for example, when I see you in the morning). Most days, I’m utterly confused…’’