Can Xue - Five Spice Street

‘‘ ‘What has charged in here? Is it a dog or something?’ he asked my wife as he hid behind her in fright.

‘‘Seething, my wife slowly put her pants on, glanced at me with eyes like swords, and then said slowly, ‘It’s only a monkey. What else could it be?’

‘‘Then she pointed straight at the door and stared at me until my face was half numb. I suddenly felt I should get out of there while there was still time. With that thought, I heaved a sigh of relief. When I turned around, I heard Old Meng tell my wife: ‘Next time, we have to bolt the door. This kind of scene shouldn’t be exposed to even a monkey. It’s immoral.’

‘‘As I was about to go downstairs, my wife blocked me. She hugged me tight and asked innocently, ‘What do you think of him? Hunh? Isn’t he unique? It’s all because he enlightened me that I found my new life. Of course you remember what I used to be like: just recalling it, I’m terrified. I want to bring him home; we won’t get in your way at all. He’s noble. You haven’t had the energy for ‘‘spare-time recreation’’ for a long time, have you? He’s taught me the principles of conduct, and this is the only way I can pay him back. He’s so pitiful. You just go about your business as usual. I get what I want, and you do, too.’

‘‘I started trying to persuade her. I brought up more than a dozen examples to show her that this wasn’t love, it was no more than a sense of indebtedness, and there were all kinds of ways to return favors, and sex was last on the list. This really was just too stupid. No one would understand it. She listened, inclining her head, then curled her lip and retorted that she did want to ‘sacrifice herself.’ It was the only right thing to do, and it was also quite fashionable.

‘‘They drove me out of my home. I moved to a work shed next to the garbage dump. I was alone. Except for my work, there wasn’t anything I was interested in. It was bleak at night. I looked at the starry sky through cracks in the shed’s fir-bark roof, worrying minute by minute throughout that empty time. Sometimes, I would suddenly get up and wander all night outside my friend’s home. Now, apart from the two people sound asleep in the small house, I have no family. More than any other time, I deeply realized that work, for me, was all there was. I’d already put all my eggs into one basket. As long as the friends in the small house were still here, my pursuit would eventually get me somewhere. There would come a day when I would prove everything I was trying to prove. I glued my ear to the window and listened to their breathing, confirming that they were still alive, still next to me, and then I felt reassured. I passed many lonely nights like this. My surreptitious struggles and sacrifices, the break-up of my family-these things, I scrupulously kept from my friends. The more down and out I was and the more I suffered, the richer I felt my life was. Embracing the secret of my self-sacrifice, I pretended to be happy and carefree as I talked with them. Deep in my heart, I felt great satisfaction.

‘‘After a while, I grew accustomed to my new life-even began to be infatuated with it-because this life completely liberated my spirit. I consciously tortured my body. I moved the bed out of the work shed and also threw the quilt away. I made a den for myself by placing a few flagstones on the ground and a bundle of straw on the flagstones. Every night, I slept curled up in this nest; even if it was so cold that my skin turned pasty, I gritted my teeth and put up with it. When I caught a bad cold and lay shaking on the straw, I was still in good spirits. When my friend came to see me, I told him: ‘I’m building myself up.’ I told him that in the morning I still ate a good breakfast (actually, I hadn’t eaten anything for two days), and asked him not to worry. I told him that my wife took meticulously good care of me and that I was in better health than ever. Looking doubtful, my friend took his leave, and tears almost spilled out of my eyes! This was so sublime! So grand! I was moved beyond words. My life was a delight! If a person gains true happiness from self-sacrifice, he’ll savor all the enjoyment in earthly life. Someone like my wife is utterly worthless: although she’s still alive, her soul died a long time ago and is wandering in the world like a ghost, getting in other people’s way-a parasite on other people everywhere. This is the most tragic situation. How could she feel the subtlety of my spiritual life? She couldn’t see any of this! Only now did I see that our marriage was a colossal mistake-how little she and I had in common. That I could break loose from that ball and chain was really my great good fortune. I hoped that she wouldn’t change her views for the rest of her life and come back to entangle me.

‘‘What is this one beginning of Madam X all about? Before the beginning, there was a long period of nothingness. She kept her door closed and didn’t emerge, nor did she let anyone call on her. Every day, she stood woodenly alone in front of her window. Whoever talked with her, she was always smiling, turning a blind eye, making it difficult for the other person. During that time, there was also no evidence of anything that was going to happen. She seemed to have decided to live her life in silence. This really annoyed me. I redoubled my fasting and also tried to freeze myself, but none of this worked with them. They just indicated that my suffering was my own affair, an addiction. In a very short time, a huge emptiness was hanging over my head. I had lost my wits. Incredible demons were gnawing at my heart. Night after night, I risked running over to knock on the door of their small room. I wanted Madam X to show her true face: even if she raised the devil and went wild, it would still be better than this pretense, because this had to do with whether the three of us lived or died. The snare was right underfoot: I had to wake them up-tell them that sharp claws were hidden behind this external tranquility, and a lot of people had destroyed themselves just because of their indifferent attitude. I knocked on the door until my joints were swollen and I was dizzy, but they went on sleeping soundly. Not once did they answer.

‘‘The next day I asked Madam X: had she heard anything during the night? Glaring at me, she said that she never heard anything, especially at night. Now, not only didn’t she look at anything with her eyes, but she also didn’t listen to anything with her ears. No matter what commotion occurred outside, she didn’t hear a thing. Her world was a quiet one, an extensive plain, with little weeds growing shallowly in the mud, a scorching sun hanging high in the sky. She didn’t even hear the cries of insects. If someone tried to disturb her with noise, this was a mistake… Blah, blah, blah: all the nonsense gave me a headache. It appeared that she was dead set on getting rid of me-her protector. Just think how much I had suffered for her! Observing that I got thinner by the day for her sake, this frivolous woman not only just sat by and watched, she also told people I ‘was odd,’ and that she ‘wouldn’t give a dime for my protection,’ or, rather, she ‘abhorred’ my protection, for she certainly hadn’t encountered any danger, so why on earth would she need anyone to protect her? If I had a protection-mania, I should go home and protect my own wife.

‘‘Of course, I wasn’t surprised by what she said. Good medicine tastes bitter. Her reaction was absolutely normal. She had been harsh with me-fine, I didn’t mind. I’m not a petty person who won’t forgive a woman for impulsive behavior. Women were always impulsive and unself-conscious. Only with guidance would they stay away from evil ways. I wouldn’t let my friend down, either, by ceasing to act as Madam X’s protector. I can’t become a frigid, worldly-wise person leading a stodgy life. I can’t become utterly worthless like my wife. I saw that my poor friend needed my support more than ever: he was like a blind child walking into a dead end; he couldn’t easily find the exit by himself. All his hopes lay with me. I was the only one who could rescue him. When driven to the wall, I launched a heroic solo movement. It flickered with sparks of brilliance, logic, and wisdom, lighting a long, dark passageway. What was it? What kind of outcome had been created? Was it directly related to Madam X’s beginning? All of the secrets-you have to forgive me-will be my private treasure, stored forever in the bottom of my heart, because after enduring unspeakable suffering, I should have the prerogative of enjoying the pleasure alone. I don’t want to share it with others, even if they’re close friends. I’m going to greatly enjoy my monopoly over happiness. This happiness will go on until the day I leave this world. If you had my superhuman willpower and could suffer a long time, maybe one day you would also obtain it.