Explore Chapter 7 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.
On the dirt threshing ground by the river, the sun had gradually withdrawn its yellow rays. The leaves of the tallow trees at the field's edge near the water, parched and only just catching their breath, swayed as a few striped-leg mosquitoes hummed and danced beneath them. From the kitchen chimneys of the riverside farmhouses, the plumes of cooking smoke gradually thinned. Women and children were splashing water onto their own door-front dirt yards, setting down small tables and low stools; everyone knew that dinnertime had arrived.
Old men and younger men sat on low stools, leisurely chatting while waving large palm-leaf fans. Children flew about like the wind or squatted beneath the tallow trees, gambling with pebbles. Women brought out plates of pitch-black steamed dried vegetables and bowls of rice, yellow as pine pollen, steaming hot. A literati's wine boat passed on the river. Seeing this, a great literary man was inspired to verse and declared, "Carefree and without a worry in the world-this is truly the idyllic happiness of country folk!"
However, the great literary man's words missed the mark somewhat, because he had not heard the words of Old Lady Nine Pounds.
At this moment, Old Lady Nine Pounds was in a towering rage, tapping the leg of a stool with her tattered palm-leaf fan as she said:
"I've lived to be seventy-nine, I've lived long enough, and I don't wish to lay eyes on the signs of a family's ruin any longer-it'd be better to die. We're about to eat any moment now, and still eating fried beans! They'll eat the whole family into poverty!"
Her great-granddaughter <<<Six Pounds>>>, clutching a handful of beans, was just running over from the opposite direction. Seeing the situation, she darted straight for the riverbank, hid behind a tallow tree, poked out her little head adorned with twin tufts of hair, and shouted loudly, "The old hag won't die!"
This village had a rather peculiar custom: when a woman gave birth to a child, most liked to weigh it on a scale, and then use the weight in *jin* as the child's pet name. Ever since celebrating her fiftieth birthday, Old Lady Nine Pounds had gradually become a malcontent, often saying that in her youth the weather wasn't as hot as it is now, and beans weren't as hard as they are now: in short, the present age is all wrong. Moreover, <<<Six Pounds>>> weighed three *jin* less than her own great-grandfather, and one *jin* less than her father, <<<Seven Pounds>>>. This was truly an irrefutable case in point. So she added with force, "This really is 'each generation worse than the last'!"
Her daughter-in-law, <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>>, was just carrying a rice basket to the table. She slammed the basket down on the table and said indignantly, "There you go again, mother. When <<<Six Pounds>>> was born, wasn't it six *jin* five *liang*? And your family's scale is a private one, rigged heavy-an eighteen *liang* pound! Using a proper sixteen *liang* pound, our <<<Six Pounds>>> ought to have over seven *jin*. I reckon even Old Master and father-in-law probably didn't weigh a full nine or eight *jin* either; the scales used back then might have been fourteen *liang* ones..."
<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> had not yet replied when she suddenly saw <<<Seven Pounds>>> emerge from the mouth of a lane. Shifting her target, she yelled at him, "You good-for-nothing! Why are you only coming back now? Where have you been skulking off to die! Don't you care that everyone's waiting for you to start the meal!"
Though <<<Seven Pounds>>> lived in the countryside, he had long harbored ambitions of rising in the world. For three generations, from his grandfather to himself, none had gripped a hoe handle; he too followed the custom by helping others punt a passenger boat, once daily, going from Luzhen into town in the morning and returning to Luzhen in the evening. Consequently, he was quite well-informed about current events: for instance, where the Thunder God had struck a centipede spirit dead; where a young maiden had given birth to a yaksha demon. Among the villagers, he was indeed a figure of some consequence. But he still clung to the rural custom of not lighting a lamp for summer evening meals, so coming home this late was indeed grounds for scolding.
<<Seven Pounds>>> slowly raised his head and said with a sigh, "The emperor has ascended the throne."
<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> was stunned for a moment, then suddenly exclaimed as if seeing the light, "That's wonderful then! Doesn't that mean there's going to be a great imperial amnesty again?"
At this, <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> had an intuitive sense that things seemed rather ominous, for the Xianheng Tavern was a hub of well-informed gossip. Her eyes fell upon <<<Seven Pounds>>>'s shaven head, and she could not restrain her anger, blaming him, resenting him, hating him. Suddenly overcome by despair, she filled a bowl with rice and thrust it before <<<Seven Pounds>>>. "Better eat your meal quickly! Will wearing a long face make a queue grow?"
The sun had withdrawn its last rays. A coolness imperceptibly returned to the water's surface. On the dirt ground rose the clatter of bowls and chopsticks, and beads of sweat once more oozed on everyone's backs. <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>>, having finished three bowls of rice, happened to look up, and her heart could not help but thump wildly. Through the tallow leaves, she saw the short and stout <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>> approaching across the single-plank bridge, and what's more, wearing a long gown of precious blue nankeen.
<<Seventh Master Zhao>>> was the proprietor of the Maoyuan Tavern in the neighboring village, and moreover the sole distinguished personage and man of learning within a radius of thirty *li*. Because he was learned, he also carried about him something of the odor of a bygone loyalist. He possessed over a dozen volumes of the *Records of the Three Kingdoms* with Jin <<<Shengtan>>>'s commentary, and would often sit reading them character by character. Not only could he name the Five Tiger Generals, he even knew that Huang Zhong's style name was Hansheng and Ma Chao's was Mengqi. After the revolution, he had coiled his queue on top of his head, like a Taoist priest. He would often sigh and say that if Zhao Zilong were alive today, the world would never have fallen into such chaos. <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> had sharp eyes. She saw from afar that today's <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>> was no longer a Taoist priest, but had turned into a smooth-shaven pate topped with glossy black hair. She knew then that the emperor must indeed have ascended the throne, and that queues must certainly be required, and that <<<Seven Pounds>>> was surely in grave danger. For this nankeen gown of <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>>'s was not one he wore lightly; in three years, he had only worn it twice: once when Pockmarked Ah <<<Si>>>, with whom he'd had a falling-out, fell ill; and once when Old Master Lu, who had once smashed up his tavern, died. This was the third time. It must surely again portend good fortune for him and calamity for his enemies.
<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> remembered that two years ago, <<<Seven Pounds>>>, in a drunken state, had once called <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>> a "bastard seed." So now she immediately intuited the danger to <<<Seven Pounds>>>, and her heart began to thump violently.
As <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>> made his way along, the people sitting and eating all stood up, pointing their chopsticks at their own rice bowls and saying, "Seventh Master, please eat with us!" Seventh Master also nodded all along the way, saying "Please, please," but went straight to the table of the <<<Seven Pounds>>> family. The <<<Seven Pounds>>>s hurriedly greeted him. Seventh Master also smiled slightly and said "Please, please," while scrutinizing their food with great care.
"What fragrant dried vegetables-have you heard the news?" said <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>>, standing behind <<<Seven Pounds>>> and facing <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>>.
"Imperial amnesty?-An amnesty will come, slowly but surely, it will come." At this point, Seventh Master's voice and expression suddenly turned severe. "But what about your <<<Seven Pounds>>>'s queue, his queue? That is the pressing matter. As you know, in the time of the Long Hair rebels, it was: keep your hair and lose your head, or keep your head and lose your hair..."
<<Seven Pounds>>> and his wife had never studied books and did not quite grasp the subtleties of this classical allusion. But hearing the learned Seventh Master speak thus, they felt the matter must be of the utmost gravity, with no possibility of reprieve. It was as if they had received a death sentence. A buzzing filled their ears, and they could not utter another word.
"Each generation worse than the last-" Old Lady Nine Pounds, nursing her grievance, seized this opportunity to address <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>>. "The Long Hair rebels these days only cut off people's queues, making them neither monk nor priest nor proper folk. Was it like this in the old days? I've lived to be seventy-nine, I've lived long enough. The Long Hair rebels of old-they wrapped their heads in whole bolts of red satin, and it hung down, hung down, all the way to their heels. The princes wore yellow satin, and it hung down, yellow satin; red satin, yellow satin-I've lived long enough, seventy-nine years."
Hearing that it was written in books, <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> was truly and completely without hope. Beside herself with anxiety, she suddenly turned her hatred back upon <<<Seven Pounds>>>. Pointing her chopsticks at the tip of his nose, she said, "This walking corpse brought it on himself! When the rebellion was on, I told him then: don't punt the boat anymore, don't go into town. But he was dead set on going into town, rolling into town, and once in town, someone went and cut off his queue. Before, it was a sleek, jet-black queue; now he's made a sight of himself, neither monk nor priest. This convict brought it on himself, but what about us being dragged down with him? This good-for-nothing convict..."
The villagers, seeing that <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>> had come to the hamlet, hurriedly finished their meals and gathered around the <<<Seven Pounds>>> family's table. <<<Seven Pounds>>>, knowing himself to be a man of consequence and finding it quite unseemly to be so reviled by his woman in front of everyone, had no choice but to raise his head and say slowly:
Among the onlookers, <<<Sister Bayi>>> was the kindest-hearted. Holding her two-year-old posthumous child, she had been watching the excitement next to <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>>. Now, feeling uncomfortable, she hastily tried to mediate. "<<<Sister Seven Pounds>>>, let it be. We're not immortals; who can know the future? Even you, <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>>, didn't you say back then that having no queue wasn't really so shameful? And besides, the great magistrate in the yamen hasn't posted any proclamation yet..."
<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> did not wait for her to finish. Both ears burning crimson, she turned her chopsticks around and pointed them at <<<Sister Bayi>>>'s nose. "Aiyah, what kind of talk is that! <<<Sister Bayi>>>, I'd like to think I'm still a decent person. Would I say such muddle-headed, foolish things? Back then I cried for three whole days, everyone saw it; even the little imp <<<Six Pounds>>> cried..." <<<Six Pounds>>>, having just finished a big bowl of rice, picked up her empty bowl and reached out, clamoring for more. <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>>, in no good humor, jabbed her chopsticks straight down between the girl's twin tufts of hair and shouted, "Who asked you to put your word in! You thieving little widow!"
With a clatter, the empty bowl in <<<Six Pounds>>>'s hands fell to the ground, striking a brick corner precisely and instantly breaking with a large chip. <<<Seven Pounds>>> leaped up, picked up the broken bowl, fitted the pieces together to examine it, and also bellowed, "Damnation!" He slapped <<<Six Pounds>>> to the ground. <<<Six Pounds>>> lay there crying. Old Lady Nine Pounds took her by the hand and, repeating "Each generation worse than the last," walked off with her.
<<Seventh Master Zhao>>> had originally been watching with a smile; but ever since <<<Sister Bayi>>> had uttered the words "the great magistrate in the yamen hasn't posted any proclamation," he had grown somewhat angry. By now he had circled out from beside the table and continued, "Taking spite out on someone else, what does that amount to? The imperial troops will be here soon. Don't you know, the commander protecting the emperor this time is Marshal Zhang, and Marshal Zhang is a descendant of the Yan man Zhang Yide. With his eighteen-foot serpent spear alone, he has the courage to match ten thousand men-who can withstand him?" Clenching both fists in the air simultaneously, as if gripping an invisible serpent spear, he advanced a few steps towards <<<Sister Bayi>>>. "Can *you* withstand him?!"
<<Sister Bayi>>>, shaking with anger as she held her child, suddenly saw <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>>, his face glistening with oily sweat and eyes glaring, charging straight at her. She was thoroughly frightened and, not daring to finish her sentence, turned and left. <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>> followed her off. The crowd, partly blaming <<<Sister Bayi>>> for making trouble, partly making way, watched as a few who had cut their queues and were growing them anew hastily hid behind others, afraid he might see them. <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>>, not bothering to investigate carefully, passed through the throng, suddenly turned behind a tallow tree, and said, "Can you withstand him?!" Then he strode onto the single-plank bridge and swaggered away.
The villagers stood there dumbly, calculating in their hearts. They all felt they certainly could not withstand Zhang Yide, and therefore decided that <<<Seven Pounds>>> must surely lose his life. Since <<<Seven Pounds>>> had violated imperial law, they recalled how, when he used to hold forth on town news, he shouldn't have puffed on his long pipe with such a proud air. So they also felt a certain satisfaction about his crime. They too seemed to want to voice some opinions, but felt they had none to offer. Amidst a buzzing hubbub of chatter, mosquitoes collided with bare torsos and barged under the tallow trees to hold their market. Slowly, the villagers also dispersed and went home, shutting their doors to sleep. <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> grumbled to herself as she also gathered the utensils, table, and stools and went home, closing her door to sleep.
<<Seven Pounds>>> carried the broken bowl home and sat on the threshold smoking. But he was so deeply worried that he forgot to smoke. The glow in the brass bowl of his over-six-foot-long speckled bamboo pipe with its ivory mouthpiece gradually darkened. In his heart, he only felt that the situation seemed extremely critical. He also tried to think of some method, some plan, but everything remained terribly vague and disconnected: "The queue? The queue? The eighteen-foot serpent spear. Each generation worse than the last! The emperor on his throne. The broken bowl must be taken to town to be riveted. Who can withstand him? It's written in the books, clause by clause. Damnation!..."
Early the next morning, <<<Seven Pounds>>> punted the passenger boat from Luzhen into town as usual. Returning to Luzhen in the evening, he came back to the village carrying his over-six-foot-long speckled bamboo pipe and a rice bowl. At the dinner table, he told Old Lady Nine Pounds that the bowl had been mended in town. Because the chip was large, it required sixteen copper rivets, at three coppers each, totaling forty-eight small coins.
After this, although <<<Seven Pounds>>> went into town daily as before, the family's circumstances seemed somewhat gloomy. The villagers generally avoided him and no longer came to hear the news he brought from town. <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> also had no pleasant tone for him, frequently calling him "convict."
"I reckon the emperor must not be on the throne anymore. When I passed by <<<Seventh Master Zhao>>>'s shop today, I saw him sitting and reading again, his queue coiled on top of his head again, and not wearing his long gown either."
"..."
Now, <<<Seven Pounds>>> once again received due respect and treatment from <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> and the villagers. Come summer, they still ate their meals on the dirt ground before their own doors. Everyone they met greeted them with smiling faces. Old Lady Nine Pounds had long since celebrated her eightieth birthday and remained as discontented and as healthy as ever. <<<Six Pounds>>>'s twin tufts of hair had now become a single thick braid. Although she had recently had her feet bound, she could still help <<<Sister Seven Pounds>>> with chores, carrying the rice bowl with its eighteen copper rivets, hobbling to and fro across the dirt ground.