Yu Hua - To Live

Jiazhen would never contradict me. But after hearing me insult her, she couldn’t have been very happy and quietly retorted, “The wind didn’t blow that hard.”

Actually, after I started gambling I really did want to honor my ancestors. I wanted to win back that one hundred mu of land my dad lost. When my dad asked me what I was doing playing around in the city, I said to him, “I don’t play around anymore. I’m doing business.”

He asked, “What kind of business?”

As soon as he heard he lost his temper. When he was young he had said the same thing to my grandfather. When he found out I was gambling he took off his cloth shoes to hit me. I dodged to the left and ducked to the right. I thought after he hit me a few times it would be over. I was surprised to find that my father, normally only active when coughing, became increasingly violent as he flailed me. I wasn’t a fly that was going to remain still while he tried to swat me. I restrained his hand and shouted, “Dad, what the fuck is wrong with you? If it weren’t for the fact that you’re the one who brought me into this world, I’d beat the hell out of you! Fucking relax!”

I held back his right hand, but Dad used his left hand to take off his right shoe. He was still bent on hitting me. I held on to his left hand so he couldn’t get close enough to strike. He was so angry that he trembled for a long while before crying out, “Bastard!”

“Go to hell!” I told him.

I pushed him with both hands, and he fell down into the corner against the wall.

When I was young, I ate, drank, whored and gambled — I took part in every disreputable thing there was. The House of Qing was the whorehouse I used to go to. There was a fat prostitute there who really won my affection. When she walked, her fat butt was just like the two lanterns that hung outside, shaking from side to side. When she lay in bed she would wobble around. When I was pressed on top of her it felt like being asleep on a boat, rocking back and forth as I floated down a river. I would often have her carry me piggyback to go shopping — riding on her back was just like riding on the back of a horse.

Mr. Chen, my father-in-law, who was the owner of the rice store, always stood behind the counter wearing a black silk shirt. Whenever we were passing by his shop, I would pull that prostitute’s hair to tell her to stop. Then I would take off my hat and pay my respects to my father-in-law. “How have you been feeling lately?”

As I asked, my father-in-law’s face would look like a preserved egg. Me, I’d just giggle and continue on my way. Later my dad told me that on a few occasions my father-in-law was so angry with me it made him physically sick.

“Give me a break,” I told my dad. “You’re my father, and my behavior’s never even made you sick. Just because he’s got health problems, what right does he have to blame me?”

Mr. Chen was afraid of me, and I knew it. When I passed his shop riding on that whore’s back, my father-in-law would be startled into retreat — like a rat scurrying back into his little hole. He didn’t want to see me, but as a son-in-law passing a father-inlaw’s store, you should always have some manners. So I would call out, wishing my father-in-law well as he scurried away.

The wildest time was just after the Japanese surrender, when the Nationalist troops entered the city to recover their lost territory. That was truly an exciting day — both sides of the city streets were flooded with people holding small colored flags. Nationalist flags of a white sun against a blue sky jutted out at a slant from all the shops. My father-in-law even had a portrait of Chiang Kai-shek as large as two doors hanging before his store; the three hired hands at the rice shop stood under Chiang’s right-hand pocket.

I spent that whole night gambling at the House of Qing. I felt muddleheaded, as if a heavy bag of rice had been placed on my shoulders. It had been over half a month since I’d been home, and my clothes reeked of a sour stench. I dragged that fat prostitute out of bed and had her carry me home. I also hired a rickshaw coolie to follow us so he could take the prostitute back to the House of Qing once I got home.

As the prostitute carried me toward the city gate she wouldn’t stop yapping, blabbering on about how not even the god of thunder strikes people while they are asleep, and yet just as she had gotten to sleep I had the nerve to wake her up. She kept complaining about how coldhearted I was. I slipped a silver coin down her shirt and that shut her up. As we got close to the city gate I saw crowds on either side of the road, and my spirit suddenly soared.

My father-in-law was the head of the city’s chamber of commerce. From far away I saw him standing in the center of the street, yelling, “Everybody get ready. Stand up straight, and as soon as the Nationalist army arrives everybody must clap and cheer.”

Someone noticed me and jokingly yelled, “They’re coming! They’re coming!”

My father-in-law thought the army had arrived and scuttled off to one side. My legs were wrapped around that whore as if I were riding a horse. I said to her, “Run! Run!”

With crowds bawling with laughter on both sides of the street, the prostitute, huffing and puffing, went into a light jog.

“At night you screw me and during the day you ride me!” She cursed me as we went. “You coldhearted bastard! You’re going to be the death of me!”

Over and over, I grinned and nodded in respect to the swarms of people roaring with laughter. When we came before my father-in-law I pulled the prostitute’s hair. “Stop! Stop!”

“Ow!” the prostitute yelped as she came to a halt.

In a blaring voice I said to my father-in-law, “My esteemed father-in-law, your son-in-law wishes you a good morning.”

That time I really did a good job of making my father-in-law lose face. At the time he just stood there stupefied, his lips trembling. After what seemed like an eternity he finally said in a hoarse voice, “My dear ancestors! Get out of here.”

The voice that emerged from his lips didn’t seem like it belonged to him.

My wife, Jiazhen, of course knew about my “colorful” romps in the city. Jiazhen was a good woman. For me to have had the good fortune to marry such a virtuous person in this life must have been repayment for having been a barking dog in the last. Jiazhen was always submissive toward me. While I was out screwing around she’d be at home worrying about me. But she would never say anything, just like my mother.

My escapades in the city were actually a bit too much. Jiazhen, of course, was a wreck. She was so disturbed that she had trouble keeping herself together. One day I came home from town and, just as I sat down at the dinner table, I noticed a strange smile on her face as she brought out four different dishes. She poured me a glass of wine and sat down next to me while I ate and drank. Her beaming expression seemed a bit strange. I couldn’t imagine what good fortune had befallen her. I thought as hard as I could, but couldn’t figure out what the special occasion was. I asked her, but she wouldn’t say. She just gazed at me with a strange, elated smile on her face.

Those four dishes were all vegetable dishes. Jiazhen had prepared each one differently, but as I got to the bottom, I started to find pieces of pork hidden in each dish. At first I didn’t really pay attention to this, but as I ate the last dish, I discovered that there was again a piece of meat on the bottom. At first I was stumped but then I began to laugh out loud. I understood what Jiazhen was up to. She was trying to teach me that although women all look different on the outside, when you get down to it they are all the same.

“I understand this little principle,” I told Jiazhen.