Explore Chapter 9 of '呐喊' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
After the Zhao Family was robbed, the people of Weizhuang were generally pleased yet panicked, and Ah Q was also pleased yet panicked. But four days later, Ah Q was suddenly seized and taken into the county town in the middle of the night. It was pitch dark then; a squad of soldiers, a squad of militia, a squad of police, and five detectives quietly arrived at Weizhuang, taking advantage of the darkness to surround the Temple of Earth and Grain, with a machine gun set up right opposite the gate; yet Ah Q did not rush out. For a long time, there was no movement, and the commander grew anxious; he offered a reward of twenty thousand cash, and only then did two militiamen take the risk, scaling the wall to get in, cooperating from inside and out, they swarmed in and captured Ah Q; it was not until he was dragged out near the machine gun outside the temple that he came somewhat to his senses.
By the time they entered the town, it was already noon. Ah Q saw himself being supported into a dilapidated yamen, turned five or six corners, and then pushed into a small room. As soon as he stumbled, the barricade door made of whole logs closed behind his heels; the other three sides were walls, and upon closer look, there were two other men in the corner of the room.
Although Ah Q felt somewhat uneasy, he was not too distressed, for his bedroom in the Temple of Earth and Grain was no better than this room. The two others also seemed to be country folk, and they gradually struck up a conversation with him. One said that the Scholar-official was pursuing the old rent owed by his grandfather; the other didn’t know why he was there. They asked Ah Q, and Ah Q answered frankly, ‘Because I wanted to rebel.’
In the latter half of the day, he was dragged out of the barricade door again. Arriving at the main hall, he saw an old man with a completely shaved head sitting above. Ah Q suspected he was a monk, but seeing a row of soldiers standing below and over a dozen men in long gowns flanking both sides-some with shaved heads like the old man, others with hair about a foot long hanging down their backs like that Fake Foreign Devil-all with fierce, scowling faces glaring at him, he realized this man must be of some importance. His knees immediately went weak of their own accord, and he knelt down.
‘Slavish nature!...’ the men in long gowns said disdainfully again, but they did not tell him to rise.
Then a man in a long gown brought a sheet of paper and a brush to Ah Q, intending to thrust the brush into his hand. Ah Q was startled at this moment, almost ‘scared out of his wits’: for this was the first time his hand had anything to do with a brush. He didn’t know how to hold it; but the man pointed to a spot and told him to make his mark there.
Ah Q prepared to draw the circle, but his hand holding the brush only trembled. So the man spread the paper on the ground for him, and Ah Q crouched down, exerting all his strength to draw the circle. Fearing ridicule, he was determined to make it round, but this wretched brush was not only heavy but also disobedient; just as it trembled and almost closed the circle, it jerked outward, forming something like a melon seed.
Upon entering the barricade again, he wasn’t too dismayed. He figured that in this world, one might sometimes be dragged in and out, and sometimes have to draw circles on paper; only the fact that his circle wasn’t round was a blemish on his ‘record.’ But soon he consoled himself, thinking: only grandsons draw perfect circles. Then he fell asleep.
However, that night, the Scholar-official couldn’t sleep: he had quarreled with the commander. The Scholar-official insisted that recovering the stolen goods was the top priority, while the commander argued that making a public example was foremost. The commander had lately shown little regard for the Scholar-official, pounding the table and saying, ‘Punish one to warn a hundred! Look, it hasn’t even been twenty days since I became a revolutionary, and there have been over ten robberies, none solved. Where’s my dignity? Now that we’ve caught someone, you come with your迂腐 ways. No! This is my jurisdiction!’ The Scholar-official was flustered but persisted, saying that if the stolen goods weren’t recovered, he would resign from his civil administration post immediately. But the commander said, ‘As you wish!’ So the Scholar-official didn’t sleep that night, but fortunately, he didn’t resign the next day.
Ah Q was dragged out of the barricade door for the third time on the morning after the Scholar-official’s sleepless night. He arrived at the main hall, where the usual bald old man still sat above, and Ah Q knelt down as usual.
Many men in long and short gowns suddenly put a white cotton vest on him, with some black characters on it. Ah Q felt bitter: because it resembled mourning clothes, and mourning was unlucky. But at the same time, his hands were bound behind his back, and he was dragged straight out of the yamen.
Ah Q was lifted onto an uncovered cart, where several men in short jackets sat with him. The cart immediately set off, with a squad of soldiers and militiamen carrying foreign rifles ahead, many gaping spectators on both sides, and what was behind, Ah Q didn’t see. But he suddenly realized: wasn’t this heading for execution? In his panic, his vision went dark, and a ringing sound filled his ears, as if he were fainting; yet he wasn’t completely unconscious. Sometimes he was anxious, sometimes calm; it seemed to him that in this world, one might sometimes have to be beheaded.
He still recognized the road and grew somewhat puzzled: why weren’t they heading toward the execution ground? He didn’t know this was a parade, a public display. But even if he had known, it would have been the same; he merely thought that in this world, one might sometimes have to be paraded and made a public example.
He realized that this was a detour to the execution ground; this must be the ‘chop’ for beheading. He looked around vaguely; all followed like ants, and inadvertently, he spotted an Auntie Wu among the crowd by the roadside. It had been a long time; she had been working in the town. Ah Q suddenly felt ashamed of his lack of spirit: he hadn’t even sung a few lines of opera. His thoughts whirled like a whirlwind in his mind: ‘The Young Widow at the Grave’ was not grand enough, ‘悔不该...’ from ‘Dragon and Tiger Fight’ was too dull, so better to sing ‘I’ll beat you with a steel whip.’ At the same time, he thought to raise his hand, only to remember that both hands were tied, so he didn’t sing ‘I’ll beat you with a steel whip.’
‘In twenty years, I’ll be another...’ Ah Q, in his haste, ‘self-taught,’ uttered half a sentence he had never spoken before.
In that instant, his thoughts whirled again like a whirlwind in his mind. Four years earlier, he had encountered a hungry wolf at the foot of the mountain, which always followed him at a distance, wanting to eat his flesh. He was then scared almost to death, but fortunately, he had a wood-cutting knife in hand, which gave him courage, allowing him to make it to Weizhuang; yet he always remembered the wolf’s eyes, fierce yet timid: gleaming like two ghostly fires, seeming to pierce through his skin and flesh from afar. And now he saw even more terrifying eyes he had never seen before, dull yet sharp, not only having already chewed his words but also about to chew something beyond his skin and flesh, always following him at a distance.
As for the immediate impact, the greatest was ironically on the Scholar-official, because the stolen goods were never recovered, and his whole family wailed. Next was the Zhao family: not only had the Scholar, because he went to town to report to the authorities, had his queue cut off by bad revolutionaries, but they also spent twenty thousand cash on the reward, so the whole family wailed too. From that day on, they gradually took on the air of fallen nobles.
As for public opinion, in Weizhuang there was no dissent; naturally, everyone said Ah Q was bad, and being shot was proof of his badness; if he weren’t bad, why would he be shot? But in the town, public opinion was unfavorable; most were dissatisfied, thinking that being shot wasn’t as good a show as beheading, and what a laughable condemned man he was, paraded for so long without singing a single line of opera: they had followed in vain.