Can Xue - Five Spice Street

Here we want to explain that ever since X’s sister and her lover eloped and then ‘‘settled it peacefully,’’ X’s sister had lived in a narrow loft with her present husband. The loft was close to the wharf that was used for transporting ‘‘night soil.’’ Though every day they cooked in the midst of the odor of human excrement, it seemed this couple was actually happy. Through the window facing the wharf, you could often see them hugging and kissing. Occasionally, they also stuck their heads out the window and shouted something we couldn’t make out.

The writer walked around the house several times without finding the staircase, so he stood on the wharf with his legs apart and waited. He waited about half an hour and then two startled faces were reflected on the window glass. The writer immediately began gesturing. The woman smiled a little and shrank back inside. Another ten minutes went by, and then she lowered a rope ladder from the window. The writer bravely clutched this ladder and clambered up.

‘‘This is great,’’ the woman said to the man. ‘‘The method we chose is secure. No one can climb up. Isn’t that right, darling? This young guy is an artist.’’

‘‘An artist?’’ The husband was surprised. ‘‘Excuse me, I must go to work.’’

He climbed to the window and lowered himself by the rope ladder. From the bottom, he shouted up, ‘‘Watch out for that damn guy!’’ Then, without turning his head, he disappeared.

‘‘He’s really adorable. Hey, please close the window. They’re starting to pump excrement again. You want to ask me about my sister’s husband, but I have nothing to say to you.’’

‘‘Why? You’re very close.’’

‘‘That was before I moved here. Now I have forgotten everything from the past. I don’t go out the whole day long. I can’t remember anything. It drives me crazy to remember; it’s scary. You don’t have to be so concerned about him. As I see it, he has nothing to complain about. He’s a stud: happiness is guaranteed for him. Of course, my husband is also a stud. You saw him just now. You can’t imagine how happy we are living in this loft like two little birds. What’s more, he-this precious man-also invented this rope ladder, and we then immediately blocked up the passage downstairs. Our life is like that of the immortals. What do you think of it? It’s already been three months since I’ve gone out, and I don’t plan to go out ever again. My sister is a warning to me. I am timid and weak. Luckily, my darling found this loft. If I were still down below, among all of you, it would be too frightening. Watch out!’’

She leapt up, looked left and right for a few seconds, and quickly burrowed under the table and squatted there. ‘‘Please sit at the table, and I’ll talk with you. You know, as long as we don’t go out we’re happy up here, but it doesn’t mean we don’t have worries. Some people are always climbing up to the roof and making trouble. The biggest problem living up here is using the toilet. You have to carry the chamber pot up and down, with the risk of being attacked on the way. You simply can’t imagine this kind of trouble.’’

‘‘I can.’’ Showing consideration for her, the writer said, ‘‘I came to see you about your brother-in-law. Maybe you still remember-’’ ‘‘How can I remember? You’re forcing me to do what I just can’t do. All I remember every day is burrowing under the table and the chamber pot. These things can’t be neglected for one second. I’ve already told you, I’m not free of worry. I have to keep in mind these two things, even when I’m sleeping with my darling. A few days ago, just at that time, people threw blocks of iron at us from the roof. I was really annoyed. How can I remember anything else? Ever since we moved to this building, I’ve felt I’ve lost my memory. The table and the chamber pot are too important. There’s no way to get away from them, and you have to concentrate on them. You don’t want your home filled with excrement, right? Even less do you want your wife to be smashed to smithereens, right? A female friend from the past came to see me. I refused to see her. Where do I have extra energy to deal with this sort of thing? Although you’ve come up here today, that doesn’t mean I can let my guard down. I can pay attention only to these two things. You can’t tear me away from them. Please open the window and see if my darling has come back. Every day at work, he finds some time to come back and empty the chamber pot because I can’t go out. If I go out, I’m attacked. You’d better not think he doesn’t want to do this. He’s happy to do it. We’re a good pair. I like a family atmosphere, although in these conditions it seems impossible to have a child. In this respect, my sister and I diverge. I like being with one person to the end. I plan to be with my present husband until we grow old. Ha-the little bird has flown back!’’

She rushed over, opened the window, and lowered the ladder.

Then she turned around and said to the writer, ‘‘You should leave. Isn’t it strange that you’re still here? He won’t like you very much, I can see that.’’

That afternoon, the writer achieved nothing. As he was sitting, annoyed, at the curb, tapping his heels, a heavy hand pressed his shoulder. When he looked up, the writer saw his counterpart-the black-clad mother of the street.

‘‘I’ve evaluated that incident all over again. You certainly didn’t offend me. I can’t overlook your strong points. There can’t be many talents like you.’’ She patted the writer’s cheek and said contemplatively, ‘‘I greatly appreciate your genius in working hard to track this down. Just now, you’ve succeeded.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘Your work is finished because that baby has already parted from Madam X. I saw this scene with my own eyes. Carrying his bag on his back, he vanished from Five Spice Street. And so in this way, the problem has been solved! When we write the history, we can write him out completely. Ah, it has saved us from so much unnecessary dissension! My mind is empty. I can’t say what kind of feeling it is. From the day this baby arrived, I’ve been carrying a heavy burden on my back. Now, it’s over. I should be happy. Why am I at loose ends? All of a sudden, I felt that while he was here, I had vitality and purpose. Then, I looked even younger-right? If he had come and said good-bye to me before he left, making a transition, maybe the situation would be somewhat different, but he just lifted his bag to his back and left: this was too callous! We’ve been used to his being here for some years now. Every time I organized an activity, I took him into account-even when I decided what clothes to wear. Whenever I made a speech-ah, those splendid speeches! — I always thought of him as my audience. It was only because I imagined this that I exerted myself particularly energetically. How could he have thought of leaving so cruelly? I still thought that he would at least come to my home and bid me farewell. Haven’t we been good friends telepathically for a long time? All along, I thought there was a tacit understanding of friendship between him and me because everyone here has this kind of tacit understanding with me. I am the mother of the whole street. After X hooked another man, I just began waiting contentedly. I thought that on a stormy night, he would certainly come to my home. He had no other place to go, so he could come only to me. At a time like that, all his memories of me would be revived. He would see a plump and appealing image for the first time. He would immediately connect this beautiful image with this piteous woman in front of him who was covered in black mourning clothes. He would certainly recall every detail of her charm and appeal, and regret that he had let a great opportunity slip away. Inevitably, he would even conceive an evil thought, and in that instant he would change from a child into a man. This very moment, the woman in the black clothes looked up, and their two gazes fleetingly crossed: it was the exchange of a soulful gaze between two adults. Then the guy’s beautiful head drooped. ‘Why have I been so blind?’ he asked bitterly.