Yu Hua - To Live

He quickly turned around and began running toward that guy. Youqing was blowing me off. As he rushed off he turned around to say, “My teacher’s calling me.”

I knew that he was afraid that I’d get even with him after we got home, so I waved my hand and said, “Get going.”

The fat guy was really enormous — when he put his hand on Youqing’s head, I couldn’t even see my son’s face. It looked like a giant hand was growing out of Youqing’s shoulders. The two of them affectionately walked over to a little shop, and I saw the fat guy buy Youqing some candy. Youqing held the candies with both hands and stuffed them into his pockets. He let his right hand linger in his pocket so he could hold on to the candy. When he came back over to me, Youqing’s face was bright red — that was because he was happy.

That night I asked Youqing who the fat guy was.

“He’s my gym teacher,” he replied.

“He acts like he’s your father,” I added.

Youqing took the candy that the fat guy had given him and spread it out on his bed. First he separated his candy into three piles, and after looking at it for a while he took two pieces from two of the piles and put them in the pile closest to himself. Then after looking at the piles again he returned two pieces from his pile back to the other two piles. I knew he was going to give one pile to Fengxia, one to Jiazhen and leave one for himself. He wasn’t going to give any to me. I didn’t expect that he would then take all three piles and mix them up together, separating them again into four piles. He went back and forth like this, but in the end there were still only three piles.

After a couple of days, Youqing brought his gym teacher home with him. The fat guy couldn’t stop praising Youqing, saying that when he grew up he was going to be a great athlete and go abroad to compete against foreigners. Youqing sat on the doorstep, so happy that sweat dripped from his face. I didn’t think it was a good idea to say anything in front of the gym teacher, but after he left I called Youqing over. As Youqing looked at me his eyes lit up. He thought I was going to go on boasting about him, but I said to him, “You’ve made your mother, your sister and me all proud, and for this I’m very happy. But I’ve never heard of anyone making a living by running. We sent you to school because we wanted you to read and study, not so you could learn how to run. Running isn’t something you need to study or learn. Hell, even chickens can run!”

Youqing immediately lowered his head and walked over to the corner to pick up his basket and sickle. I asked him, “Will you remember what I said?”

He walked over to the door and, with his back turned, nodded and then went outside.

That year, before the rice had had a chance to turn yellow, while the stalks were still a green color, a seemingly endless downpour began. It rained for almost an entire month straight. Although it cleared up a couple of times, it was never for longer than two days, and then the sky would once again grow dark and the rain would return. We saw the water in the fields accumulating, and as the level of rainwater increased, the rice started to droop. In the end, patch after patch of rice was completely submerged. The older people in the village cried, and they all said, “How are we supposed to get by?”

The younger generation wasn’t as pessimistic. They kept thinking that the government would save us.

“What’s there to worry about?” they said. “There’s always a way out. The team leader went to the county seat to get some grain.”

Three times the team leader went to the commune headquarters and once to the county seat, but each time he came back with nothing but a few words. “Everybody calm down! The county magistrate said that as long as he doesn’t starve, he’s not going to let anyone else starve.”

A heat wave lasting several days followed that month of rain, and all the rice in the fields rotted. When night fell and the wind blew, the stench was unbearable, not unlike that of rotting corpses. At first everyone hoped that we would still be able to use the rice straw, but because we couldn’t harvest the rice, the straw also rotted. We were left with nothing. The team leader said the county magistrate would send us grain, but no one ever saw any. No one completely believed what the leader said, but then again no one dared not to believe. How could we get by if everyone lost hope?

It got so bad that people would count the grains of rice as they put them in the pot. There was barely any food left. No one would dare to cook rice; instead we’d all cook rice porridge— and the porridge was getting thinner and thinner. Two or three months later all the food supplies were gone, and nothing new was coming in. Jiazhen and I talked it over and decided to bring the lamb into town to sell her. We figured we’d be able to trade her for about one hundred ten jin 6of rice. That would get us through the season until the next rice harvest.

It had been a month or two since any of us had eaten our fill, but that lamb was just as fat as before. Every day you could hear her “baa baa” sound loud and clear coming from the lamb pen— Youqing could take the credit for that. He had hardly anything to eat himself — every day he would complain about being dizzy— but not once did he shortchange his lamb when it came to her grass. He loved that lamb in the same way that Jiazhen loved him.

After Jiazhen and I discussed selling the lamb, I brought it up with Youqing. He had just dumped a basket of grass in the lamb pen. The rustling sound of the lamb chewing the grass sounded like the falling rain. Youqing stood to one side with his basket in hand, laughing as he watched the lamb eat her grass.

He didn’t even notice me walk over. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he twisted his head around to look at me.

“She’s famished!” he said.

“Youqing,” I said, “Dad has something he wants to talk to you about.”

Youqing nodded and turned around to face me. I continued, “Our grain at home is almost gone. I talked it over with your mom, and we’ve decided to sell the lamb. We can trade her for some rice; otherwise, our whole family will go hungry.”

Youqing lowered his head and didn’t utter a sound. He was unwilling to part with his lamb. I patted him on the shoulder and said, “Wait until things get better and I’ll buy you a new lamb.”

Youqing nodded his head. He had grown up. He understood much more than before. If it had been a few years earlier, he would have cried and made a scene. As I walked out of the lamb pen, Youqing pulled my shirt and pleaded pathetically, “Dad, please don’t sell her to a slaughterhouse.”

I thought, during a time like this, who can afford to raise a lamb? Other than a slaughterhouse, who else would buy her? But looking at Youqing’s expression, I could only nod my head.

The next morning, with an empty rice bag slung over my shoulder, I led the lamb out of her pen. As soon as I made it to the edge of the village, I heard Jiazhen calling me from behind. Turning around I saw Jiazhen and Youqing approaching. Jiazhen said, “Youqing wants to go along.”

“There’s no school on Sunday,” I said. “What does he want to come for?”

“Just let him go,” said Jiazhen.

I knew that Youqing wanted to spend some extra time with his lamb. I was afraid if I didn’t agree Jiazhen would say something. I thought, what the hell, if he wants to come, let him come. I waved him over, and Youqing ran and took the leash right out of my hand. He lowered his head, and we walked off together.

The whole way there Youqing didn’t open his mouth once, but the lamb on the other hand wouldn’t shut up with her “baa baa.” As Youqing led her, she would from time to time bump her head into Youqing’s behind. The lamb was practically human. She knew that it was Youqing who fed her grass every day, so she was affectionate with him. The more affectionate she was, the sadder Youqing became. He bit his lip as he struggled to hold back his tears.