Yu Hua: To Live

By the time I brought him the last load of copper coins, he’d stopped addressing me as young master. He nodded as he said, “Fugui, just put it down here.”

Another creditor who was a bit friendlier patted me on the shoulder and said, “Fugui, let’s have a drink.”

After hearing this Long Er swiftly added, “Yes, yes, have a drink. It’s my treat.”

I shook my head, thinking I’d better go home. After just one day my silk clothes were ruined and my shoulders were oozing with blood. Alone, I walked home. I cried as I walked, I walked as I cried. Carrying the money that day had exhausted me to the point that every joint in my body felt dislocated. I wondered how many people had died of exhaustion for my ancestors to make this money. It was then that I figured out why my father had insisted on copper coins and not silver: he wanted me to understand this truth. He wanted me to know that money does not come easily. Thinking about it this way, I could no longer walk. I squatted down beside the road and cried until the muscles in my stomach began to twitch. It was then that our family worker Changgen, the same servant who used to carry me to private school, came over carrying a beat-up bag. He had worked for our family for decades, but now he, too, had to leave. My grandfather had taken him in at a young age after Changgen lost his parents. In the years that followed he never married. Just like me his eyes were flooded with tears, and the flesh of his bare feet was split open. Seeing me bent over beside the road, he called out, “Young master.”

I screamed at him, “Don’t call me young master, I’m an animal!”

He shook his head. “An emperor begging for food is still an emperor. You may have no money, but you’re still young master.”

Hearing his words, more tears rolled down my face, which I had just wiped dry. He squatted down beside me and, burying his face in his hands, broke down in tears. After weeping together in silence I finally said to him, “Changgen, it’s getting dark. You’d better go home.”

Changgen stood there for a while and then, step by step, began to walk away. I heard his droning voice echo, “What home do I have left?”

I had hurt Changgen, too. Seeing him walk off in solitude, my heart felt wave after wave of pain. Only after Changgen had walked so far that I could no longer see him did I finally stand up and walk toward home. By the time I arrived, night had already fallen. Our family worker and maid had both already left. Mom and Jiazhen were in the kitchen, one making a fire while the other was preparing dinner. My dad was still lying in bed. Only Fengxia was as happy as before — she still didn’t know that from now on we would suffer bitterness and poverty. Bouncing and vivacious, she came over, pounced onto my legs and asked, “Why do they say I’m not a ‘miss’ anymore?”

I caressed her small face but failed to utter a single word. At least she didn’t continue asking. She used her fingernails to scrape the caked-on mud off my pants and said happily, “I’m washing your pants for you!”

When it was time to eat, my mother approached the door to Dad’s room to ask, “Should I bring your food in?”

“I’ll come out to eat,” Dad replied.

Holding the kerosene lamp with three fingers, Dad emerged from his room. The glow from the lamp danced upon his face, leaving it half illuminated and half cloaked in darkness. His back slumped over as he coughed incessantly. After sitting down he asked me, “Did you settle the debt?”

“It’s settled.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Dad quietly repeated.

After seeing my shoulders he continued, “And your shoulders were rubbed raw?”

I didn’t make a sound but secretly looked at my mom and Jiazhen. Their eyes were brimming with tears as they looked at my shoulders. Dad, after slowly swallowing a few mouthfuls of rice, put his chopsticks down on the table and pushed his bowl away. After a while he continued, “A long time ago, our Xu family ancestors raised but a single chicken. When that chicken grew up it turned into a goose, the goose in turn grew into a lamb, and the lamb became an ox. This is how our family became rich.”

Dad’s voice turned into a whisper. He stopped for a moment, then continued, “When it came into my hands, the Xu family ox became a lamb, and the lamb turned back into a goose. When it came down to you, that goose became a chicken, and now we are left without even a chicken.”

When Dad finished his sentence he began to cackle. He laughed and laughed until his laughter turned to tears. He extended two fingers and pointed them toward me. “The Xu family has begotten two prodigal sons.”

Less than two days later Long Er came. His appearance had completely changed. Opening his mouth wide to let out a sinister laugh, he revealed two new gold teeth. He had bought our house and land at a low mortgage rate and had come to check out his new property. Long Er kicked the foot of the wall, then pushed his ear up against the wall and patted it with his hand, saying, “Sturdy. Sturdy.”

Long Er then went outside to take a walk around the property. When he came back he bowed to my father with his hands folded in front, saying, “Looking at these bright green fields, I can rest at ease.”

As soon as Long Er came we had to move out of the family house, which had been passed down for generations, and into a small thatched hut. The day we moved, my father strolled in and out of the different rooms with his hands clasped behind his back. Finally, he said to my mother, “And I thought I would die in this house.”

My dad brushed the dust off his silk clothes and, extending his neck, crossed the threshold. Just like before, Dad clasped his hands behind his back and leisurely made his way to the manure vat. The sky was just beginning to grow dark, and only a few farmers were still working in the field. They all knew my father was no longer the owner, yet they held on to their hoes, calling out, “Master.”

My dad smiled slightly and, waving his hand, said, “No need to call me that.”

The land my father now strolled on was no longer his. His legs trembled as he walked to the edge of the property. He stopped in front of the manure vat and looked around in all directions. Then he undid his pants and squatted down.

That day as dusk settled, my dad didn’t make a sound while he took his shit. His squinting eyes stared far off, and gradually the narrow trail leading to town became blurry. A worker standing beside him was bending over to reap some vegetables. By the time the farmer stood back up, my father could no longer see that small trail.

Dad fell from atop the manure vat. The worker, hearing a noise, quickly turned around to see my father lying on the ground. His head didn’t move as it rested against the manure vat. Holding a sickle, the worker rushed over to my father, asking him, “Master, are you okay?”

My dad’s eyelids fluttered. Staring at the worker, he asked in a raspy voice, “Who are you?”

The worker bent over and said, “Master, it’s me, Wang Xi.”

After thinking for a while, Dad said, “Oh, Wang Xi. Wang Xi, there’s a stone beneath me that’s hurting my back.”

Wang Xi turned my father over to find a rock the size of a man’s fist. He tossed it aside. Lying there, my dad quietly uttered, “That’s much better.”

“Should I help you up?” Wang Xi asked.

Dad shook his head. Sighing, he replied, “No need.”

And then my father asked him, “Have you ever seen me fall before?”

Wang Xi shook his head. “No, master.”

My dad seemed a bit happy, and he asked again, “So, it’s the first time?”

“Yes, master,” said Wang Xi.

My dad chuckled for a moment before closing his eyes. His neck went crooked as his head slid from against the manure vat onto the ground.