Mo Yan - Red Sorghum

‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll go see the misbegotten ingrate in a couple of weeks.’

Two weeks later, he rode up on his donkey, only to find the main gate shut tight. Grandma ignored his shouts. After he’d yelled himself hoarse, he turned and rode away.

Granddad was already working in the distillery by the time Great-Granddad next returned, and Grandma’s five dogs constituted an impregnable line of defence. His pounding at the gate was met by a chorus of barks, and when, at last, the woman Liu opened the gate, he was immediately surrounded by dogs, content to bark for the moment. Poor Great-Granddad quaked in fright.

‘Who are you looking for?’ the woman Liu asked him.

‘And who are you?’ Great-Granddad fired back indignantly. ‘I’ve come to see my daughter!’

‘Just who is your daughter?’

‘The woman who runs this place.’

‘Wait here. I’ll go tell her.’

‘Tell her her real father’s here!’

The woman Liu returned with a silver dollar in her hand. ‘You there, old man, the mistress says she has no father, but she’s willing to give you a silver dollar to buy some buns for your trip.’

‘Misbegotten ingrate!’ Great-Granddad railed. ‘Get your ass out here! Who the hell do you think you are, disowning your own father as soon as you’re rolling in money!’

The woman Liu flung the silver dollar to the ground. ‘Go on, you pigheaded old man,’ she said. ‘If you make the mistress mad, you’ll get more than you bargained for.’

‘I’m her father!’ he insisted. ‘She murdered her father-in-law. Is her own father going to be next?’

‘Go on,’ the woman Liu urged him, ‘get going. If you don’t, I’ll have to set the dogs on you!’

She gave a signal to the dogs, and they crowded up closer. The green dog nipped the leg of the donkey, which brayed, jerked the reins free, and galloped away. Great-Granddad bent over, picked up the silver dollar, and stumbled after the donkey, with the barking dogs on his heels all the way to the edge of the village.

The third time Great-Granddad came to see Grandma, he demanded one of the big black mules, insisted that her father-in-law had promised him one before he was murdered, and that his death did not invalidate the promise. He threatened to take his complaint to the county government if Grandma reneged on the promise.

‘You’re nothing to me,’ she said. ‘I don’t know you. And if you keep harassing me, I’ll report you to the authorities.’

Great-Granddad found someone to write out a complaint for him, then rode his donkey into town to see Magistrate Cao and bring formal charges against Grandma.

Following the shock of having his hat shot full of holes by Spotted Neck, Magistrate Cao had returned home and promptly fallen ill. So, when he read the complaint, which was linked to the homicides at Northeast Gaomi Township, sweat dripped from his armpits.

‘Old man,’ he said, ‘you’ve charged your daughter with having an illicit affair with a bandit. Where’s your proof?’

‘Your honour, County Magistrate,’ Great-Granddad replied, ‘the bandit in question is sharing my daughter’s kang at this very minute. He’s none other than Spotted Neck, the man who shot your hat full of holes.’

‘Old man, you know, don’t you, that if what you’re saying is true your daughter’s life is in danger.’

‘Magistrate, honour compels me to forsake family loyalty… but for… my daughter’s property…’

‘Why, you money-grubbing old son of a bitch!’ the magistrate bellowed. ‘You’d sacrifice your own daughter to get your hands on that little property she has! No wonder she disowned you. You’re no ‘father’ in my book. Give him fifty lashes with a shoe sole and send him on his way!’

Poor Great-Granddad — not only was his complaint rejected, but the fifty lashes left his buttocks in such sad shape he couldn’t even sit on his donkey, and had to lead it behind him as he staggered home. Shortly after leaving town, he heard hoofbeats behind him, and when he turned to look, he recognised the county magistrate’s black colt. Fearing for his life, he fell to his knees.

The rider was Magistrate Cao’s right-hand man, Master Yan. ‘Old man,’ he hailed him, ‘get up, get up. The magistrate said that, since he’s your daughter’s foster-dad, there’s a certain kinship between the two of you. The whipping was intended as a lesson for you. He wants you to take these ten silver dollars home to open a small business and forget about ill-gotten wealth.’

Great-Granddad accepted the silver dollars and kowtowed gratefully, not rising to his feet until the black colt had crossed the railway tracks.

Magistrate Cao had been sitting alone in the main hall of the government office thinking for half an hour when Little Yan returned from delivering the money. The magistrate led him into a small room and closed the door. ‘I’m convinced that the man sharing the woman Dai’s kang is Spotted Neck,’ he said, ‘the most notorious bandit in Northeast Gaomi Township. Nabbing him will be like cutting down the tree and watching the Northeast Gaomi Township monkeys scatter. The reason I had you beat the old man today was to keep the news from leaking out.’

‘You have great foresight,’ Little Yan said.

‘I was duped by the woman Dai that day.’

‘Even the wisest man occasionally falls prey.’

‘Take twenty soldiers on fast horses to Northeast Gaomi Township and capture the bandit leader.’

‘The woman, too?’

‘No,’ the magistrate cautioned him, ‘no, no, under no circumstances. If you took her into custody, it would be a great loss of face for you-know-who Cao, wouldn’t it? Besides, my judgement that day was intended to help her. What a tragedy for such a lovely young thing to be married to a leper. No wonder she took a lover. No, just nab Spotted Neck, and let her off the hook, so she can have a chance to live a good life.’

‘A high wall surrounds the Shan compound,’ Little Yan said, ‘and a pack of mean dogs guards the inside. We won’t catch Spotted Neck flatfooted. If we try to break down the gate or scale the wall in the middle of the night, he’ll pick us off like clay pigeons, won’t he?’

‘You’re too simple-minded,’ Magistrate Cao said. ‘I’ve got a wonderful plan.’

Late that night, Little Yan and twenty soldiers rode out of the city, according to the magistrate’s plan, heading for Northeast Gaomi Township. Since it was late autumn — the tenth lunar month — the sorghum in the fields had already been harvested and lay in large piles. The riders reached the western edge of the village just before daybreak, when crystalline dew covered the dark weeds and the chilly autumn air cut like a knife. They dismounted and waited for orders from Little Yan, who told them to tether their horses behind a pile of sorghum and leave two soldiers to watch them. Then they changed clothes and prepared for action.

The sun rose red in the sky, the black earth was covered by a blanket of white, and a fine layer of dew settled on the men’s eyelashes and brows and the downy hairs on the muzzles of the horses. Little Yan looked at his pocket watch. ‘Let’s go!’ he said.

With eighteen soldiers behind him, he cautiously entered the village. They were armed with carbines, loaded and ready. Two took up positions at the village entrance, two more at the head of the lane. Another lane, two more soldiers in hiding, and so on. By the time they reached the compound gate, their number was reduced to Little Yan and six soldiers disguised as peasants, one carrying a pole with two empty wine crocks over his shoulder.

When the woman Liu opened the gate, Little Yan signalled the soldier with the wine crocks who squeezed past her into the compound. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she said angrily.