Explore Chapter 12 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.
This pair of white rabbits seemed not long separated from their mother. Though of a different species, one could see their innocence and liveliness. Yet they held up their small, crimson long ears, twitched their noses, and their eyes showed signs of alarm, probably feeling out of place and not as secure as in their old home. Such creatures, if bought at a temple fair, would cost at most a couple of hundred coppers each, but Third Mistress spent a dollar on them because she had a servant buy them from a shop.
The children were naturally overjoyed, shouting and crowding around to watch; the adults also gathered to look; and a little dog called S came running over, barged in to sniff, sneezed, and retreated a few steps. Third Mistress yelled, "S, listen, you are not allowed to bite them!" Then she slapped him on the head, and S backed off, never biting them again.
This pair of rabbits was mostly kept in the small yard behind the back window, as it was said they loved tearing wallpaper and often gnawed on wooden furniture legs. In this small yard stood a wild mulberry tree; when the mulberries fell, the rabbits loved eating them so much that they even neglected the spinach fed to them. When crows or magpies tried to come down, the rabbits would arch their bodies, kick hard with their hind legs on the ground, and with a whizzing sound, leap straight up like a puff of snow, scaring the birds away quickly. After a few such incidents, they dared not come near again. Third Mistress said the birds were not a big concern; at most, they might snatch some food. What was detestable was a large black cat that often glared fiercely from the low wall-this needed guarding against. Fortunately, the dog and the cat were enemies, so perhaps nothing would happen.
The children often caught them to play with; they were very gentle, perking up their ears, twitching their noses, and standing tamely within the circle of small hands, but whenever there was a chance, they would slip away. Their nighttime bed was a small wooden box lined with straw, placed under the eaves of the back window.
After a few months like this, they suddenly started digging soil, very quickly indeed; with their front paws scratching and hind legs kicking, in less than half a day, they had dug a deep hole. Everyone was puzzled, but upon closer inspection, it turned out that one of them had a much larger belly than the other. The next day, they carried dry grass and leaves into the hole, busy for most of the day.
Everyone was delighted, saying there would be little rabbits to watch; Third Mistress then imposed a strict order on the children, forbidding them to catch the rabbits again. My mother was also pleased with the prosperity of their family and said that once the newborns were weaned, she would ask for a pair to raise outside her own window.
From then on, they lived in their self-made burrow, sometimes coming out to eat, but later they disappeared. It was unclear whether they had stored food inside in advance or simply stopped eating. After more than ten days, Third Mistress told me that the two rabbits had reappeared, and probably the little rabbits had been born and all died, because the female had abundant milk but showed no signs of going in to nurse her young. She spoke with some anger, yet there was nothing to be done.
One day, the sun was warm, and there was no wind; the leaves were still. I suddenly heard many people laughing, and following the sound, I saw many leaning against Third Mistress's back window to look: it turned out a little rabbit was hopping in the yard. It was much smaller than when its parents were bought, but it could already kick off the ground with its hind legs and jump up. The children eagerly told me that they had seen another little rabbit peek its head out of the hole but immediately retract it; that must have been its sibling.
The little one also picked some grass to eat, but the larger one seemed to forbid it, often snatching it away with its mouth, yet not eating it itself. The children laughed loudly, and the little one, finally startled, hopped and burrowed into the hole; the larger one followed to the entrance, pushed its child's back with its front paws, and after pushing it in, scraped away some soil to seal the hole.
Yet again, both the small and large ones disappeared completely. It was a period of consecutive cloudy days, and Third Mistress grew concerned that they had fallen victim to the large black cat. I said it wasn't so; it was the cold weather, so of course they were hiding, and once the sun came out, they would surely emerge.
Only Third Mistress, who often fed them spinach there, still thought of them. Once, she went into the small yard behind the window and suddenly discovered another hole in the corner. Looking at the old hole entrance, she faintly saw many claw marks. If these claw marks were from the large rabbits, the claws shouldn't be that big, so she suspected the large black cat that often perched on the wall. Thus, she couldn't help but resolve to dig. She finally came out, took a hoe, and dug all the way down. Though suspicious, she also hoped to unexpectedly find the little white rabbits, but at the bottom, she only saw a pile of rotten grass mixed with some rabbit fur, probably laid during parturition, and aside from that, it was desolate, with no trace of the snow-white little rabbits or the sibling that had only peeked its head out.
Anger, disappointment, and desolation compelled her to dig the new hole in the corner. As soon as she started, the two large rabbits first scurried out of the hole. She thought they had moved, and was happy, but she continued digging. When she reached the bottom, she found it also lined with grass leaves and rabbit fur, and on top lay seven very small rabbits, their bodies all flesh-pink; upon closer look, their eyes were not yet open.
From then on, Third Mistress not only deeply hated the black cat but also rather disapproved of the large rabbits. It was said that before those two were killed, there should have been more dead, because when they give birth, it's unlikely to be only two, but due to uneven nursing, those who couldn't compete for food died first. This seems plausible, as among the seven now, two are very thin and weak. So whenever Third Mistress had free time, she would catch the mother rabbit and place the little ones one by one on her belly to drink milk, not allowing any shortage.
My mother told me that such a troublesome way of raising rabbits she had never even heard of before, and it probably could be included in *Unique Records*.
But from then on, I always felt desolate. Sitting under the lamp at midnight, I thought: those two little lives were lost without anyone knowing, leaving no trace in the history of life, and not even the dog let out a bark. Then I recalled past events: previously, when I lived in the guild hall, getting up early in the morning, I saw scattered pigeon feathers under the large locust tree-clearly, they had been devoured by a hawk's beak; when the janitor came to clean in the morning, nothing was left. Who knew that a life had been ended here? I also once passed by Xisi Pailou and saw a little dog almost crushed to death by a carriage; when I returned, nothing was there-probably moved away. Passersby walked to and fro; who knew that a life had been ended here? On summer nights, outside the window, I often heard the prolonged buzzing of flies-this must be when they were caught by a spider, yet I had never paid mind to it, and others didn't even hear it...
If the Creator could be blamed, then I think He truly creates life too recklessly and destroys it too recklessly.
My mother had always disapproved of my mistreating cats, and now she probably suspected that I intended to avenge the little rabbits with some harsh action, so she came to inquire. And indeed, in the family's opinion, I was considered an enemy of cats. I had once harmed a cat, and I often beat cats, especially when they were mating. But the reason I beat them was not because they were mating, but because they made such a racket that I couldn't sleep; I thought mating didn't require such loud and especially clamorous noise.
Moreover, since the black cat had harmed the little rabbits, I was even more "justified in my actions." I felt that my mother was too kind-hearted, and so I involuntarily uttered an ambiguous answer that bordered on disapproval.
That black cat cannot strut on the low wall for long, I determinedly thought, and then involuntarily glanced at the bottle of Potassium Cyanate hidden in the bookcase.