Yu Hua - Brothers

Baldy Li didn't reply but remained contemplative. Song Gang asked again, "Did I write it very messily?"

Baldy Li remained pensive, and Song Gang felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. He became convinced that he had written the story in a completely disordered fashion, and therefore Baldy Li couldn't understand it at all.

All of a sudden Baldy Li finally uttered a single word, "Good!" He then added, "Really well written." He earnestly told Song Gang that this was a good story, and even though it was not at the level of stories by literary giants like Lu Xun and Ba Jin, it was better than anything Writer Liu or Poet Zhao could have written. Baldy Li waved excitedly and added, "Now that we have you, Writer Liu and Poet Zhao will be left permanently in the dust."

Song Gang was surprised and pleased, and that night he was so excited he couldn't sleep. With Baldy Li snoring beside him, Song Gang looked back over his story five more times. He became increasingly convinced that it did not merit Baldy Li's effusive praise and that Baldy Li had complimented it only because they were brothers. However, Song Gang ultimately concluded that Baldy Li's praise was not entirely unfounded. For instance, when he went back and reread the specific passages Baldy Li had singled out, he found that they were actually not bad at all. Song Gang then mustered up the courage to take the draft to Writer Liu for critique. If Writer Liu also said that it was well written, then it must be true.

The following day Song Gang nervously showed his story to Writer Liu. Liu was initially startled, never having expected that this disciple of his would turn around and write a story of his own. At that moment Writer Liu was on his way to take a shit, with a roll of toilet paper in his hand. Therefore, he grabbed Song Gangs thirteen-page story along with the toilet paper and read it as he headed to the restroom. He continued reading the story as he did his business, finishing both tasks more or less at the same time. He emerged from the restroom with half a sheet of unused toilet paper resting on top of Song Gangs manuscript, and, brows furled in consternation, he walked back to the supplies and marketing office. Writer Liu then spent the entire afternoon in the office correcting Song Gangs story, using a red pen to mark up every page and even filling the blank space on the last page with three hundred more words of critique. When he got off work, Song Gang nervously appeared at the door of the supply and marketing office. Writer Liu solemnly gestured him in and gave him the thirteen-page document, declaring with utmost seriousness, "All of my comments are written here."

As he accepted the manuscript, Song Gangs heart skipped a beat. The pages were so smothered in Writer Liu's red markings that he could barely see the original, making Song Gang feel that his story must have been very problematic. At this point Writer Liu proudly pulled a story of his own from his desk drawer and handed it to Song Gang, asking him to take it home and read it carefully. Acting as if he were handing Song Gang a masterpiece, Liu said, "See how this is written."

That night Song Gang carefully read over Liu's corrections and exhortations but found himself confused and unable to figure out what Writer Liu was trying to say. Song Gang then read Writer Liu's new work and found himself similarly unable to make heads or tails of it.

Baldy Li saw Song Gang working through the night and, curious, came over to see what he was doing. He first read Writer Liu's critiques of Song Gang's story and declared, "This is bullshit." Then he took Writer Liu's new work and counted the pages. Finding that there were only six, he fanned them disdainfully, asking why it was so short. Baldy Li began reading the story, but before he had finished, he threw it aside, pronouncing it "dull — a total bore."

Baldy Li yawned, lay down on the bed, and started snoring as soon as his head hit the pillow. Song Gang continued earnestly reading both his own corrected story and Writer Liu's new work. The corrections and critique made him feel confused and disappointed, particularly the critique in which Liu essentially undermined Song Gangs entire story, although it was true that Liu did add a few words of encouragement at the end. Song Gang believed that Writer Liu was trying to give him a sort of bitter medicine and was grateful that he had taken the time to write out his corrections and critiques. He therefore felt that he should repay the debt by writing out some comments of his own on the blank page at the end of Writer Liu's manuscript. He started diligently writing, first offering a few words of praise and then pointing out several of the work's shortcomings. Unlike Writer Liu's, Song Gang's critique was not a mess of crossed-out errors and corrections; rather, he first wrote out a draft, corrected it several times, and then carefully copied it onto the final page of Writer Liu's manuscript.

When he got off work the next day, Song Gang returned Writer Liu's new story to him. Writer Liu sat in his chair with his legs crossed, smiling as he waited to hear Song Gang sing his praises. The last thing he expected to hear, therefore, was Song Gang telling him, "All of my comments appear on the final page."

Writer Liu's expression immediately changed, and he hurriedly turned to the last page of his work, where he did indeed find Song Gang's critique. Absolutely furious, Writer Liu jumped up from his chair, pounded the table, and pointed his finger at Song Gang's nose, roaring, "You, you, you … How dare you break earth over the mighty?"

Writer Liu was so furious he started sputtering. But Song Gang merely stood there in dumbfounded silence, completely baffled by Writer Liu's anger. He hemmed and hawed, then asked, "Breaking what earth?"

Writer Liu took his story, turned to the last page, and asked, "This— what is this?"

Song Gang uneasily replied, "These are my comments."

Writer Liu was so furious he flung his story to the floor, but he immediately regretted it and quickly picked it up again. While caressing his manuscript, he continued shouting at Song Gang, "You, how dare you scribble on my text?"

Finally understanding why Writer Liu was so angry, Song Gang became unhappy himself. He said, "You also scribbled on mine."

Writer Liu heard this with astonishment and became even more furious, pounding his desk and shouting, "Who are you? And who am I? What is your manuscript? You should be flattered if I were to even deign to piss and crap on your manuscript, you motherfucker!"

Hearing this, Song Gang also became furious. He walked forward a few steps and pointed at Writer Liu, saying, "You leave my mother out of this, because if you curse my mother, I'll …"

"You'll what?" Writer Liu raised his fist, but realizing that Song Gang was half a head taller than he, he immediately lowered it again.

Song Gang hesitated, then said, "I'll beat the crap out of you!"

Writer Liu roared back, "Nonsense!"

For Song Gang, who was normally so respectful toward him, to speak of beating up Writer Liu made Liu so furious that he picked up a bottle of ink from his desk and flung it at him. The red ink splattered all over Song Gang's glasses, his face, as well as his clothes. Song Gang took off his ink-covered glasses and placed them in his pocket, then rushed at Liu with both hands extended as if about to put him in a chokehold. The rest of the people in the factory's supplies and marketing section rushed up and pulled Song Gang away. Writer Liu then took the opportunity to retreat to a corner of the room and barked out to his workers, "Arrest him!"

Several of Liu's workers pushed Song Gang back to his workshop. Song Gang, his face bright red, sat down on a long bench as rivulets of ink ran down his face and torso. The workers from Liu's office sat next to him and tried to comfort him, while the workers in Song Gang's own workshop crowded around to hear what had happened. Liu's employees recounted to Song Gang's workshop artisans the fight between Song Gang and Writer Liu. Someone asked what the source of the conflict was, whereupon the supplies and marketing people admitted confusion. Shaking their heads, they said, "We can't begin to understand the affairs of literati like them."