Yu Hua - Chronicle of a Blood Merchant

Bright sunlight played across the road that ran through Lin’s Pier. Xu Sanguan’s shivering body moved through the sun’s rays. He walked past one street and came to another, where he caught sight of a few young men leaning against an old sunlight-bathed wall, squinting as they absorbed the warmth, hands stuffed snugly inside their sleeves. They were talking among themselves, shouting, laughing. Xu Sanguan stood for a moment in front of them, then moved into their midst, standing against the wall and squinting his eyes against the bright sun.

Xu Sanguan saw them turn to look at him, so he said, “It’s warm here, and there’s not so much wind.”

They nodded and watched him huddle against the wall, hands still tightly clasped around his collar. They whispered, “Look at his hands.” “He’s holding his collar so tight it looks like someone’s trying to strangle him.” “Or like he’s being throttled with a rope. What do you think?”

Xu Sanguan, overhearing this comment, smiled in their direction. “It’s just that I’m afraid the wind will come in through my collar.” He released one side of the collar and pointed toward his neck with his free hand. “This is like a window in a house. You wouldn’t leave a window open during the winter, would you? If you left the windows open, everybody inside would freeze to death.”

They erupted into laughter at this explanation. Then someone said, “Well, I’ve never seen anyone as afraid of the cold as you. And we all heard your teeth chattering even though you’re wearing such a thick coat. Look at us. None of us are wearing a padded coat, and our collars are all open.”

Xu Sanguan said, “Just a minute ago my collar was open too. Just a minute ago I drank eight bowls of water from the river.”

They said, “You think you might be running a fever?”

Xu Sanguan replied, “I don’t have a fever.”

They said, “Oh no? Then why are you talking nonsense?”

Xu Sanguan said, “I’m not talking nonsense.”

They said, “You’re definitely running a fever. You’re feeling unusually cold, right?”

Xu Sanguan nodded. “That’s right.”

“Then you’re feverish,” they said. “People feel cold when they’re running a fever. Feel your forehead. I’ll bet it’s really hot.”

Xu Sanguan smiled as he looked back toward them. “I’m not running a fever, I’m just cold, that’s all. It’s because I just sold—”

They interrupted, “If you’re feeling cold, it’s got to be because you have a high fever. Feel your forehead.”

Xu Sanguan smiled but didn’t lift his arm to feel his forehead.

They continued to urge, “Go ahead, feel your forehead. You’ll know right away if you have a fever or not. It’s not like it’s such a big chore. Just lift up your arm.”

Xu Sanguan lifted his hand to his forehead as they looked on.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?”

Xu Sanguan shook his head, “I don’t know. I really can’t tell because my forehead’s the same temperature as my hand.”

“I’ll try then.” One of them walked over and placed his hand on Xu Sanguan’s forehead. He turned to the others and said, “His forehead’s really cold.”

Someone else said, “You just took your hand out of your pocket, it’s probably too warm to tell. Try putting your own forehead next to his instead.” So he pressed his own forehead against Xu Sanguan’s, waited for a moment, turned back toward them, and slowly rubbed his hand across his own forehead. “Maybe I’m the one running a fever. My forehead’s a lot warmer than his.” Then he added, “You try.”

One after another they walked over and pressed their foreheads against Xu Sanguan’s forehead, until they were compelled to agree with what he had said in the first place. “You’re right. You’re not running a fever. We’re the ones who’re running fevers.”

They stood around him in a circle, laughing. When they were finished laughing, someone started to whistle. Then a few more of them started to whistle, and they moved away together, whistling. Xu Sanguan watched them go until he couldn’t see them anymore and the sound of their whistling faded to silence. Then he laughed quietly to himself as he sat down on a rock at the base of the wall, his body surrounded by the sunlight. He felt a little warmer than he had a moment before. His hands had started to go numb from the cold, so he released his collar and stuck his fingers into his pockets.

XU SANGUAN took a river ferry to North Marsh, and from North Marsh he went on to Westbank, where he took another boat to Hundred-Mile. It had been three days since he had left home, and three days since he had sold blood at Lin’s Pier. Now he planned to go to the hospital at Hundred-Mile and sell blood. In Hundred-Mile he walked down the street that ran along the river. The street was lined with muddy piles of melting snow, and when the wind blew into his face, his skin felt as dry and taut as the preserved fish hanging from the eaves of the houses along the way. He held his drinking bowl in one hand and the little packet of salt inside the wide sleeves of his padded jacket. He ate the salt crystals as he walked, and whenever his mouth began to pucker from the saltiness, he would climb down the stone steps to the river, skim the surface, and drink a couple of bowls of icy water. Then he continued down the road, eating fresh pinches of salt as he went.

That afternoon, just after he emerged into the street from selling blood at the Hundred-Mile hospital, and just before he managed to cross over to a restaurant on the opposite side of the street to eat a plate of fried pork livers and drink two shots of yellow rice wine, he discovered that he could no longer walk. His limbs shook like bare tree branches in a violent wind, whipping back and forth until it seemed that they would snap, and he clasped onto his body with his hands in an effort to stop the trembling. Then his legs buckled underneath him, and he tumbled to the pavement.

Someone on the street walked toward him to ask what was wrong, but Xu Sanguan was shivering so violently that the man couldn’t make out what he had said in reply. Someone else suggested that they take him to the hospital: “Lucky for him it’s just a few steps away.” Another man hoisted him up on his back and began to carry him toward the hospital door.

But with that Xu Sanguan’s voice grew more clear. “No, no, no, no,” he repeated over and over again. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

They said, “You’re ill, you’re seriously ill, I’ve never seen anyone in my life shake as hard as you’re shaking right now. We have to get you to the hospital.”

But still he repeated, “No, no, no, no.”

So they asked him, “Then tell us what’s wrong with you. Did you come down with something just now, or is it some kind of chronic illness? If it just hit you all of a sudden, we should definitely get you to the hospital.”

They saw his lips tremble and his mouth move, but none of them could tell exactly what he was trying to say to them. Someone asked, “What’s he trying to tell us?”

“We can’t tell. It doesn’t matter anyway. Let’s just bring him to the hospital.”

With this, his speech once again grew more distinct: “I’m not sick.”

His words were clear enough, but someone else asked, “He says he’s not sick, but if he weren’t sick, why would he be shaking like that?”

He said, “I’m cold.”

This too was distinct enough to be understood. They said, “He says he’s cold. You think he might have the hot-and-colds? If he has the hot-and-colds, it’s no use going to the hospital anyway. Maybe we should just take him to an inn instead. He doesn’t talk like he’s from anywhere around here.”