Explore Chapter 11 of 'Camel Xiangzi' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
Whenever he thought of that old man and Little Horse, Xiangzi felt like abandoning all hope and just living for the day. Why torment himself day in and day out? The fate of the poor, he seemed to understand now, was like a date pit, pointed at both ends. In childhood, not starving to death was a blessing. In old age, avoiding starvation was hard. Only the middle period, when one is young and strong, not fearing hunger or toil, still resembles a human being. In this period, if you dare not seek joy when you should, you are a true fool. Once this chance is gone, it is gone forever. With this thought, he did not even want to worry about the matter with Tigress anymore.
But when he saw that clay money pot, his thoughts turned again. No, he could not be careless. He was only a few dozen dollars away from buying a rickshaw. He could not let all his previous efforts go to waste. At the very least, he could not squander the savings in the pot, which were so hard to accumulate. He had to stay on the right path, definitely. But what about Tigress? There was still no solution. He still had to worry about that hateful twenty-seventh.
The streets grew livelier. Kitchen God Festival malt sugar melons filled the lanes. Everywhere you could hear the cry, "malt sugar melons for sale, malt sugar melons." Xiangzi had originally looked forward to the New Year, but now he felt no enthusiasm. The more chaotic the streets, the tighter his heart became. That dreaded twenty-seventh was right before him. His eyes sank, and even the scar on his face seemed darker. Pulling the rickshaw, the streets were so chaotic, the ground so slippery, he had to be extra careful. Assailed by worries and vigilance, he felt his mind was not up to the task. Thinking of one thing, he forgot another, often startling suddenly, his body itching as if a child had broken out in summer prickly heat.
On the afternoon of Kitchen God Festival, a steady east wind brought a sky full of dark clouds. The weather suddenly warmed a bit. By lamp-lighting time, the wind died down further, and sparse snowflakes fell from the sky. The sellers of malt sugar melons grew anxious. With the warmth and the snow, they frantically sprinkled white clay on the candy, afraid it would all stick together. The snowflakes did not fall much, turning into fine snow pellets that rustled softly, whitening the ground. After seven o'clock, shops and households began the Kitchen God Festival. Amid the incense and firecracker shadows, dense with light snow, the revelry carried a hint of eeriness. People on the street looked somewhat hurried. Pedestrians and those in rickshaws were eager to return home to worship the gods, but the ground was wet and slippery, so they dared not stride freely. The sugar vendors, desperate to sell their festive goods, shouted breathlessly, their cries unsettling to the heart.
It was probably around nine o'clock when Xiangzi pulled Mr. Cao home from the west city. Passing the bustling section near Xidan Archway, they turned east into Chang'an Street, where people and horses gradually thinned out. The smooth asphalt road was covered with a thin layer of snow, glimmering under the streetlights. Occasionally, a car passed, its headlights shining far ahead, the snow pellets glowing yellowish in the light, like scattered golden sand. Near the Xinhua Gate area, the road was originally very wide, and with the thin snow, it felt even more expansive and refreshing. Everything seemed more solemn. The Chang'an Archway, the gate tower of Xinhua Gate, and the red walls of South Sea all wore white caps, set against vermilion pillars and red walls, quietly displaying the dignity of the old capital under the lamplight. Here and now, one felt as if Beiping had no residents, but was merely a palace of jade, with only some old pine trees silently catching the snowflakes.
Xiangzi had no mind to admire the scene. He pulled the rickshaw urgently, afraid of delaying matters. Mr. Cao sat in the rickshaw, wearing a fur hat and an overcoat, the collar turned up to cover half his face. Suddenly, Mr. Cao called out, "Xiangzi!" Xiangzi turned his head. Mr. Cao whispered, "Look, someone is following us from behind." Xiangzi glanced back and indeed saw a dark shadow a few dozen steps away, walking unhurriedly. Xiangzi's heart skipped a beat. He quickened his pace, but the snowy ground was slippery, and he dared not run fast.
Mr. Cao added, "Turn left, head to the back gate." Xiangzi knew that Mr. Cao's friend Mr. Zuo lived near the back gate, so he pulled the rickshaw into the alley. The street by the back gate was quieter, the snow whiter, with only their rickshaw and the following shadow. Xiangzi felt his hair stand on end. He recalled the time his rickshaw was seized by soldiers. Could they have encountered bad people again? He ran desperately, but the snowy ground was soft, his footing unsteady. The more he hurried, the slower he seemed.
Mr. Cao urged, "Quick! Quick!" Xiangzi gasped for breath, finally reaching the Zuo family's doorstep. Mr. Cao jumped off the rickshaw and said to Xiangzi, "Wait here. I'll go knock on the door." With that, he went to knock. Xiangzi stopped the rickshaw and looked back. The dark shadow had also turned into the alley, standing in the distance, watching. Xiangzi's heart pounded, and his palms sweated.
Mr. Zuo opened the door. Mr. Cao hurried inside, whispered a few words, then came out and said to Xiangzi, "Xiangzi, return to the Cao residence. Tell the mistress to bring the young master here immediately. Be careful yourself. Don't let anyone follow you." Xiangzi nodded, picked up the rickshaw, and started to leave. Mr. Cao added, "Don't pull the rickshaw. Leave it here. Hire a rickshaw to go back. Quick!" Xiangzi acknowledged, set down the rickshaw, and took off running.
Xiangzi ran out of the alley, hired a rickshaw, and flew back to the Cao residence. He urgently called for the door to be opened. Nanny Gao came out. Xiangzi gasped, "Where is the mistress? Quick, Mr. Cao wants the mistress and the young master to go to Mr. Zuo's house immediately. It's urgent!" Mrs. Cao was inside soothing the child. Hearing the commotion, she came out. Xiangzi repeated the message. Mrs. Cao turned pale with fright, hastily gathered some things, picked up the child, and followed Xiangzi out. Xiangzi hired another rickshaw and escorted them to the Zuo family by the back gate.
At the Zuo house, Mr. Cao was already waiting. Seeing them arrive, he sighed in relief. Mr. Zuo let Mrs. Cao and the child inside, then said to Xiangzi, "Xiangzi, don't go back either. Hide here for now." Xiangzi did not understand what was happening, but he had to agree. Mr. Zuo arranged for him to rest in a small room by the gatehouse.
Xiangzi's mind was in turmoil, unsure what had truly happened. Sitting in the small room, listening to the snow outside, he suddenly remembered his clay money pot, still hidden in his room at the Cao residence. That money was his lifeline. He could not lose it. He wanted to go back and fetch it, but he feared danger. As he hesitated, he heard knocking outside.
Xiangzi came out. The man took off his hat. Xiangzi saw it was Detective Sun-he had met him before at the Cao residence, a friend of Mr. Cao, but Xiangzi knew he was no good man. Detective Sun said with a forced smile, "Xiangzi, Mr. Cao's affairs have come to light. You need to come with me." Xiangzi was stunned. Mr. Cao quickly said, "Xiangzi, don't be afraid. Go with him and explain clearly." Xiangzi had no choice but to follow Detective Sun out.
Detective Sun took Xiangzi to a small teahouse nearby, found a quiet corner, and sat down. Detective Sun ordered a pot of tea, poured a cup for Xiangzi, then said, "Xiangzi, let's speak plainly. Mr. Cao is a rebel. The authorities want him. You pull his rickshaw, so you're implicated too. But I see you're an honest man. I can't bear to ruin you. Hand over some money, and I'll smooth things over for you. You'll be safe."
Hearing this, Xiangzi's heart sank. He stammered, "I... I have no money." Detective Sun sneered, "No money? Everyone knows Xiangzi saves up to buy a rickshaw. Don't play dumb. Hand it over quickly, or you'll suffer." Xiangzi knew he could not hide it, so he said, "The money is at the Cao residence. I didn't bring it." Detective Sun said, "Fine, I'll go with you to get it."
Xiangzi had no choice but to lead Detective Sun back to the Cao residence. The Cao residence was already empty, the door locked. Detective Sun forced Xiangzi to pry open a window and enter to fetch the money. Xiangzi found the clay money pot and handed it to Detective Sun. Detective Sun took the pot, weighed it in his hand, then smashed it on the ground. The pot broke, scattering silver dollars and banknotes everywhere. Detective Sun crouched down, picked up all the money, counted it, and stuffed it into his pocket.
Xiangzi watched helplessly as years of hard work were stolen, his heart feeling as if cut by a knife. Detective Sun stood up, patted Xiangzi on the shoulder, and said, "Alright, you're off the hook now. Go on, don't stay here." With that, he strode away.