Yu Hua - Chronicle of a Blood Merchant

As he spoke, Xu Sanguan lay down in bed, stretched out his arms and legs, and shut his eyes.

“I’m seeing spots,” he continued, “and my heart is thumping like it’s all worn out, and my stomach’s convulsing. I feel like I need to throw something up. I’m going to bed now. If I sleep for four or five hours, don’t worry about it. But if I sleep for seven or eight hours and still don’t wake up, then you’d better call someone to help take me over to the hospital.”

After Xu Sanguan fell asleep, Xu Yulan sat on the doorstep squeezing the thirty yuan between her fingers. She gazed at the deserted street and watched the wind blow eddies of dust across the ground.

Staring at the dull, gray wall across the lane, she said to herself, When Yile broke open Blacksmith Fang’s son’s head, he went to sell blood. And when Fatty Lin broke her leg, he went to sell blood again. I still can’t believe he was willing to sell his own blood for a fat slut like that. It’s not like it’s mere sweat. It’s blood, after all. Now that the family’s eaten corn flour gruel for fiftyseven days in a row, he goes to sell blood once again. And then he says he’ll do it again because otherwise we’re not going to make it through these hard times. When are these hard times ever going to end?

Tears fell down her face as she spoke. She folded the money into a neat bundle, slid it into her inside pocket, and raised a hand to her face to wipe away the tears. She wiped the tears across her cheek with her palm, and then wiped the tears from her eyes with her fingertips.

That evening Xu Sanguan and his family were going to the Victory Restaurant for a good meal. Xu Sanguan said, “We should act like today is Spring Festival.”

That was why he asked Xu Yulan to wear her finely woven sweater and khaki pants, as well as the light blue cotton-padded jacket embroidered with dark blue flowers. Xu Yulan put them on for him. Xu Sanguan also asked her to wear the silk scarf around her neck, so she got it out of the trunk and put it on. Xu Sanguan asked her to wash her face. When she was finished, he asked her to put on some Snowflower cream. She rubbed her face with the fragrant cream.

But when Xu Sanguan asked her to go down the street to Wang Erhu’s little grocery store to buy Yile some sweet potatoes, Xu Yulan stood her ground. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “You don’t want to take Yile to the Victory Restaurant to eat a good meal. You don’t want to spend your blood money on Yile, because he’s not your son. I know he’s not your son, and I know no one wants to spend their money on outsiders, so I won’t argue with you about all that. But Fatty Lin wasn’t your woman either, was she? She’s never given you a child, washed up for you, cooked you any meals, and yet you were perfectly willing to spend your blood money on her.”

Since Xu Yulan couldn’t bear to pacify Yile with a meal of sweet potatoes, Xu Sanguan had no choice but to speak with the child himself. He called for Yile to come to him, took off his cotton-padded jacket, and showed him the red puncture mark on his arm.

“Do you know what this is?”

Yile said, “You bled there.”

Xu Sanguan nodded. “You’re right. That’s where they put the needle. I went to sell my blood this morning. You know why I went to sell blood? So you all could eat a square meal. Your mom and I and Erle and Sanle are going to the Victory Restaurant tonight to eat noodles. And you’re going to take this fifty fen and go buy yourself some sweet potatoes over at Wang Erhu’s store.”

Yile reached out and took the fifty- fen note. “Dad, I heard what you and Mom were saying just now. You want me to go get fifty fen worth of sweet potatoes, while everyone else gets noodles that cost one yuan and seventy fen. Dad, I know I’m not your own son, and Erle and Sanle are. So they get to eat better than I do. Dad, do you think you could pretend for a little while that I’m your own son so I can eat some noodles too?”

Xu Sanguan shook his head. “Yile, I almost never treat you any worse than them. If Erle and Sanle get something good to eat, you get some too. But the money I made today came from selling blood. This money is special. This money’s harder to come by than other kinds of money. I put my life at risk to get this money. So if I let you eat noodles too, I’d be doing that bastard He Xiaoyong a favor.”

Yile nodded as if he had understood what Xu Sanguan had said. Holding the fifty- fen note in his hand, he moved toward the front door. Just as he got to the doorstep, though, he turned back to ask, “Dad, if I was your own son, you would bring me to eat noodles too, right?”

Xu Sanguan pointed toward him. “If you were my own son, you would be my favorite son of all.”

With these words, Yile beamed. Still grinning, he made his way over to Wang Erhu’s shop.

Wang Erhu stood at the charcoal grill roasting the sweet potatoes. A few sweet potatoes were cooling on a bamboo tray. Wang Erhu, his wife, and four children were arrayed around the grill eating gruel, and when Yile came in, he heard the sound of six mouths noisily slurping gruel.

Yile handed the fifty fen to Wang Erhu and then pointed at the biggest sweet potato on the tray. “Give me that one.”

Wang Erhu took his money and handed him one of the smaller potatoes.

Yile shook his head. “I’ll still be hungry after I eat this one.”

Wang Erhu pressed the sweet potato into his hands, saying, “The big ones are for adults. The little ones are for little kids like you.”

Yile looked down at the sweet potato in his hand. “This one isn’t even as big as my hand. I’ll still be hungry after I eat this one.”

Wang Erhu replied, “How will you know until you’ve eaten it?”

Yile, convinced by this logic, nodded and took the sweet potato home. By the time he got home, Xu Sanguan and the rest of the family had already set out for the restaurant. He sat down alone at the table, put the still-warm sweet potato down in front of him, and began to slowly and carefully peel the skin. The mass of flesh inside the sweet potato was orange, like sunlight. He could smell its intense fragrance and its sweetness. He took a bite, and the fragrance and the sweetness filled his mouth.

But before he had even taken his fourth bite, the sweet potato was gone. He sat at the table rolling his tongue back and forth inside his mouth, drinking in what was left of the taste of sweet potato until all that remained was saliva. He knew the sweet potato was all gone, but he wanted more. He looked at the sweet potato skin he had only just peeled off and put a piece in his mouth. There was still some sweetness in the skin despite the blackened parts that tasted of charcoal. He ate the entire sweet potato peel.

When he finished the peel, he still wanted to eat more. That meant he wasn’t full. He stood up from the table and went out the door, arriving once again at Wang Erhu’s little shop. By this time Wang and his family had just finished their gruel, and all six of them were in the process of licking their bowls clean with their tongues.

Yile watched them wide-eyed and then told Wang Erhu, “I’m not full yet. Give me another sweet potato.”

Wang Erhu said, “How do you know you’re not full yet?”

Yile said, “Because I finished it, but I still want to eat some more.”

Wang Erhu asked, “Was the sweet potato good?”

Yile nodded. “It was good.”

“Was it really good? Or just medium good?”

“Really good.”

“That explains it,” Wang Erhu said. “If something’s really good, of course you’re going to want to have some more.”