Yu Hua - Brothers

The pain in Song Gang's chest had become increasingly severe. Confused by the binding pain, he slowly opened his shirt and found that it had become stuck to the open wounds under his armpits. As he removed the shirt he felt as though he was ripping away his flesh. The searing pain made his entire body shudder. He waited for it to subside, then lifted his arms and saw that his wounds had become swollen and infected, with the black stitches now stretched tight over them. He remembered that he was supposed to have removed the stitches six days after the operation but now thirteen days had passed. The pain had become virtually unbearable.

Song Gang got up and went to look for a pair of scissors and then, with a mirror, prepared to take out his own stitches. Worried that the scissors weren't clean, he lit a flame and placed them over it for five minutes to sterilize them. He patiently waited another ten minutes for the scissors to cool off, then finally began to carefully clip away until the scissors were covered with bits of black thread. He felt the throbbing pain in his chest gradually subside, as though his entire body had been released from immense tension.

That evening Song Gang used an old newspaper to wrap up the money he had brought home and placed the bundle under his pillow, leaving aside only ten yuan for himself. He took his key out and inspected it carefully then lay it on the table, put on his face mask, and walked to the front door. When he opened it, he turned and looked back at his home and at the key on the table: Everything in his house seemed to be in sharp focus, but the key was a blur in his vision. He carefully closed the door, then stood there for a while. It occurred to him that the key was inside, that he would never be coming back.

Song Gang turned and walked down the street, proceeding on into Wanderless Zhou's Snack Shop. He had never eaten straw-embedded buns, and now he wanted to try some. When he went in, he didn't see Zhou or Missy Su. He looked around and noticed that Mama Su wasn't there either. As it turned out, Zhou had succeeded in converting both of them into fans of Korean soaps, and therefore every weekday at this time the three of them would sit at home, staring intently at the television screen. Song Gang hesitated in the doorway for a moment. Seeing a strange waitress sitting at the cashier's counter, he approached her and, after pondering for a moment, mumbled vaguely, "How do you eat…"

The cashier had no idea what he was talking about "How do you eat what?"

Song Gang realized he had misspoken but couldn't think of the proper way to phrase the question. He pointed to some customers eating the straw-embedded buns and said, "These straw-embedded buns…"

The customers laughed out loud, and one of them asked him, "Did you suckle at your mother's breast as a child?"

Song Gang felt that this person was making fun of him, and therefore he replied smartly, "We all did."

"Did you eat buns after you grew up?"

"We all did."

"Good," that person said. "I'll teach you. First, you suck it like you did your mother's breast, sucking out the juice, then you eat the remaining bun the way you would eat any bun."

All the customers laughed uncontrollably, and even the waitress at the cashier's counter couldn't help laughing. Song Gang, however, didn't laugh. The customers response allowed him to regain some clarity of mind, so he turned back to the waitress and said, "I was asking how much they cost?"

Understanding him now, the waitress took Song Gangs money and gave him a receipt. Song Gang then took his receipt and continued standing in front of the counter. The waitress suggested that he sit down, because it would be ten minutes before the buns were ready. Song Gang eyed the laughing customers, then sat at a table as far from them as possible. With an expressionless gaze, he sat there patiently like a student, waiting for his straw-embedded buns.

Song Gangs buns were finally brought out and, faced with this wave of hot steam, Song Gang slowly lowered his face mask, put the straw in his mouth, and immediately sucked out the meat sauce. Those customers who had been making fun of him jumped in surprise, because the sauce was at least 175 degrees Fahrenheit. Song Gang, however, sipped it up as though he were sipping cold water. After finishing one bun, he proceeded to another. In all, he sipped the sauce out of three buns, then looked up at the astonished customers and smiled. His smile sent shivers down their spines, making them suspect that he was somewhat deranged. He then lowered his head again and placed one of the buns in his mouth. After he had eaten the three buns, Song Gang put his face mask back on, stood up, and walked out of the snack shop.

By this point it was evening, and Song Gang set off toward the setting sun. He didn't walk down the street with his head bowed, as he used to. Instead, he walked with his head up and looked back and forth at the stores and the pedestrians on either side of the street. When people called out his name, he no longer mumbled in reply but, rather, waved at them amicably. When he walked past a shop window, he stopped to look at the products on display inside. Many of the townspeople of Liu saw Song Gang stroll by that evening. Later they recalled how, in the past, every time he appeared he was always hurrying to get somewhere; this was the only evening they had seen him just strolling. They said he stopped to look in every shop window, turned to greet every person he passed, even displayed considerable interest in the wutong trees on either side of the street. He stood outside a music store for five or six minutes listening to two pop songs, turning to someone walking by and saying, "These two songs sound really good."

When he passed the post office, he took Lin Hongs and Baldy Li's letters from his breast pocket and, after putting them in the mailbox, squatted down and peered inside to make sure that they had gone all the way in. Then he continued walking in the direction of the setting sun.

Song Gang walked out of Liu Town to where the railroad tracks were. He sat down on a rock next to the tracks, took off his face mask, and contentedly inhaled the evening air. He looked around at the fields full of grain waiting to be harvested. There was a stream not far from him, and the setting sun tinted the water crimson. That made him look up, and he felt that the evening sky was even more beautiful than the earth. The sun glowed crimson, and the clouds shimmered brightly, with layer upon layer of colors pouring in like the tide. As the multi-hued rays shuttled unpredictably through the sky he felt as if he had seen the light. Then he lowered his gaze and once again looked at the fields of grain stretching in every direction, reflecting the evening light like fields full of red roses, he felt as if he were sitting in the middle of a million blooming flowers.

Hearing the sound of a train whistle approaching, he took off his glasses, wiped them, and put them back on. He saw that the sun had sunk halfway below the horizon and that a train was approaching from the same direction as the setting sun. He stood up and told himself it was time to bid farewell to the world of the living. He couldn't bear to part with his glasses but was afraid that the train would crush them. Therefore, he took them off and placed them on the stone where he had been sitting, and again felt everything become blurred. He removed his jacket, folded it, and lay it on the same stone, placing his glasses on top. Then he took a deep breath and put his face mask back on. He forgot that dead people couldn't breathe, and was afraid that his lung illness would be transmitted to the mortician. He walked forward four paces, then lay facedown on the tracks with both arms extended. His chest pressing against the tracks was excruciatingly painful, so he crawled forward until his abdomen was resting on the tracks and immediately felt much more comfortable. The approaching train made the tracks under him tremble, and as a result his body also started to tremble. He raised his head to look at the distant sky, feeling it was truly beautiful. He then turned his head and looked at the fields of roselike grain in front of him and felt they too were quite beautiful. At this point he noticed with delight a seagull flying overhead. The seagull was crying out, flapping its wings as it flew from far away. As the train rumbled over his back the last thing he saw was the solitary seagull soaring among the million blooming flowers.