第四章 (Chapter Four)

Xiangzi lay in a small inn in Haidian for three days, his body alternating between chills and fever, his mind in a daze. A row of purple blisters had sprung up on his gums. He only wanted to drink water, with no appetite for food. After three days of hunger, the internal heat subsided, leaving his body as soft as marshmallow. It was probably during these three days that his connection with the three Camels was overheard from his delirious mutterings. When he finally came to, he was already known as “Camel Xiangzi.”

Ever since he came to the city, he had been known as “Xiangzi,” as if he had no surname at all. Now, with “Camel” placed before “Xiangzi,” even fewer people cared what his surname might be. Whether he had a surname or not, he didn’t much care himself. However, having traded three animals for just a few dollars and ending up with a nickname, he felt it wasn’t quite a fair deal.

Barely able to struggle to his feet, he wanted to go out and look around. He hadn’t expected his legs to be so weak. As soon as he reached the inn’s doorway, his legs gave way and he slumped to the ground. He sat there in a daze for a long while, cold sweat beading on his forehead. After enduring a bit longer, he opened his eyes. His stomach rumbled, and he felt a pang of hunger. Very slowly, he stood up and found a wonton vendor. He ordered a bowl of wonton, still sitting on the ground. He took a sip of the broth. It made him nauseous. He held it in his mouth for a long time before forcing it down. He didn’t want to drink any more. But after a while, the hot broth flowed like a thread straight to his abdomen, and he let out two loud burps. He knew he was alive again.

With a bit of food in his stomach, he could finally take stock of himself. He had grown much thinner. His tattered pants were now filthy beyond description. He felt too lazy to move, but he couldn’t enter the city looking so disheveled. He had to regain his clean and tidy appearance. However, that required money-for a haircut, new clothes, shoes, and socks. He couldn’t touch the thirty-five dollars in his hand. Even keeping it untouched, it was still far from enough to buy a rickshaw. Yet he pitied himself. Though the soldiers had held him for only a few days, looking back now, it all seemed like a nightmare. This nightmare had aged him, as if he had suddenly grown several years older. Looking at his large hands and feet, they were clearly his own, yet they felt as if they had been retrieved from somewhere else. He felt deeply sorrowful. He didn’t dare think about the past humiliations and dangers. Even without thinking, they still lingered, like knowing the sky is dark on an overcast day without looking up. He felt his body was particularly precious and shouldn’t be subjected to further hardship. He stood up. Though he knew he was still weak, he felt an urgent need to spruce up, as if a haircut and new clothes could instantly restore his strength.

Getting spruced up cost only two dollars and twenty cents. A set of coarse cloth trousers and jacket, similar to drill cloth, cost one dollar. Black cloth shoes were eighty cents. Socks woven from thread cost fifteen cents. And a straw hat cost twenty-five cents. The tattered clothes he took off were traded for two packets of matches.

Holding the two packets of matches, he headed toward Xizhimen along the main road. He hadn’t gone far before he felt weak and exhausted. But he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t take a rickshaw. From any perspective, he couldn’t take a rickshaw. What was ten or eight miles to a country fellow? Besides, he was a rickshaw puller himself. Not to mention, it would be a joke for a man of his size and strength to be defeated by a minor illness. Unless he collapsed and couldn’t get up again, he would roll all the way into the city rather than admit defeat. If he couldn’t walk into the city today, he thought, Xiangzi would be finished. He only believed in his own body, no matter what illness he had.

Staggering, he set off. Not far out of Haidian, stars danced before his eyes. Leaning against a willow tree, he steadied himself for a long moment. The world spun wildly for a while, but he refused to sit down. Gradually, the spinning subsided. His heart seemed to settle back into his chest. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he strode on. He had already gotten a haircut and changed into new clothes and shoes. He felt he had done right by himself. Now, his legs had to do their duty. Walk! In one breath, he reached the outskirts. Seeing the bustle of people and horses, hearing the cacophony of harsh sounds, smelling the dry, foul odors, and stepping onto the fine, soft, filthy dust, Xiangzi wanted to kneel and kiss that gray, stinking ground-the beloved ground that grew silver dollars. He had no parents, brothers, or relatives. His only friend was this ancient city. This city gave him everything. Even starving here was better than in the countryside. Here, there was much to see and hear. Everywhere was light and color, everywhere was sound. As long as he sold his strength, there was endless money here, and countless good things to eat and wear. Here, even begging could yield meaty soup and leftovers, while in the countryside, there was only cornmeal. Just west of Gaoliang Bridge, he sat on the riverbank and shed a few hot tears.

The sun was setting in the west. The old willows by the river leaned crookedly, their tips tinged with golden light. The river held little water, but it was thick with green algae, like a greasy, long green ribbon-narrow, deep green, emitting a faint, damp, fishy smell. North of the riverbank, the wheat had sprouted awns, short, withered, and dust-covered. South of the river, the lotus pond’s small, feeble green leaves floated on the water, with tiny bubbles rising now and then from their sides. On the bridge to the east, people and carts passed back and forth, looking especially hurried in the slanting sunlight, as if all felt restless with the approaching dusk. All this seemed incredibly interesting and lovely to Xiangzi’s eyes and ears. Only such a small river could truly be called a river. Only such trees, wheat, lotus leaves, and bridges could truly be called trees, wheat, lotus leaves, and bridges. Because they all belonged to Beiping.

Sitting there, he was in no hurry. Everything before him was familiar and beloved. Even if he were to sit there and die, he seemed content. After resting a long while, he went to the bridgehead and ate a bowl of old tofu. Vinegar, soy sauce, Sichuan pepper oil, and chopped leeks, scalded by the hot, snow-white tofu, gave off an exquisite aroma. It was so fragrant it made Xiangzi hold his breath. Holding the bowl, looking at the deep green leek pieces, his hands trembled uncontrollably. He took a bite. The tofu burned a path through his body. He added two more small spoonfuls of chili oil himself. By the time he finished the bowl, sweat had soaked through his waistband. Half-closing his eyes, he handed the bowl over. “Another bowl!”

Standing up, he felt like a man again. The sun was still low in the west. The river water, tinted slightly red by the evening glow, made him want to shout with joy. Touching the smooth scar on his face, feeling the money in his pocket, and glancing at the sunlight on the corner tower, he firmly put his illness out of mind. He forgot everything, as if driven by some resolve. He decided to enter the city.

The gate tunnel was crammed with all sorts of carts and people. No one dared move fast, yet everyone wanted to hurry through. The crack of whips, shouts, curses, horn blasts, bell rings, and laughter merged into a buzzing whole within the tunnel-like a giant amplifier-as if everyone was making some noise, all humming together. Xiangzi’s large feet stepped east and west, his arms pushing left and right, like a lean, long fish leaping joyfully through waves. He squeezed into the city. At once, he saw Xinjiekou. The road was so wide and straight. His eyes shone, as bright as the reflected light on the rooftops to the east. He nodded.

His bedding was still at the Renhe Rickshaw Yard on Xi'anmen Street, so naturally he headed there. Having no family, he had always lived in the rickshaw yard, though he didn’t always pull the yard’s rickshaws. The owner of Renhe, Fourth Master Liu, was almost seventy years old. Though old in years, his heart was far from tame. In his youth, he had served as a treasury guard, run gambling dens, traded in human lives, and engaged in loan-sharking. He possessed all the qualifications and skills needed for such trades-strength, cunning, tactics, social connections, and reputation. In the Qing dynasty, he had brawled in gangs, abducted women from good families, and knelt on iron chains. Kneeling on those chains, Liu Si never frowned or begged for mercy. He toughed out the lawsuit, which earned him his “reputation.” After prison, just as the Republic was established, the police grew increasingly powerful. Fourth Master Liu saw that the era of local heroes was over. Even if Li Kui or Wu Song were reborn, they wouldn’t have much chance. He opened a rickshaw yard. Coming from a ruffian background, he knew how to deal with the poor-when to tighten the screws and when to ease up. He had a genius for manipulation. No rickshaw puller dared cross him. With a glare or a hearty laugh, he could befuddle a man, making him feel as if one foot was in heaven and the other in hell, leaving him no choice but to obey. Now, he owned over sixty rickshaws, the worst being seventy or eighty percent new. He kept no broken-down vehicles. His rental fees were higher than others’, but during the three festivals, he gave two extra days’ worth. Renhe Yard had lodgings. Bachelor pullers of his rickshaws could stay for free-but they had to pay the daily rental fee. Those who couldn’t pay and pestered him had their bedding confiscated and were thrown out like broken kettles. If anyone had an emergency or illness, just telling him was enough. He wouldn’t hesitate to help, through fire or water. This was called “reputation.”

Fourth Master Liu had the look of a tiger. Nearly seventy, his back was unbent. He could still walk ten or twenty miles at a stretch. He had large round eyes, a big nose, a square mouth, and a pair of large tiger teeth that made him look like a tiger when he opened his mouth. He was almost as tall as Xiangzi, with a closely shaved head and no beard. He fancied himself a tiger, but sadly had no son, only a tiger daughter in her late thirties-anyone who knew Fourth Master Liu knew Tigress. She too had a tiger-like head and demeanor, which scared off men. She was a great help to her father in managing affairs, but no one dared marry her. She was just like a man in every way, even in cursing with a man’s directness, sometimes with extra flair. Fourth Master Liu handled external matters, Tigress handled internal ones. Father and daughter ran Renhe Rickshaw Yard like an iron barrel. Renhe Yard became an authority in the rickshaw world. The methods of the Liu father and daughter were often cited by pullers and owners, like scholars quoting classics.

Before buying his own rickshaw, Xiangzi had pulled for Renhe Yard. His savings were deposited with Fourth Master Liu. When he had enough money, he took it and bought that new rickshaw. “Fourth Master Liu, look at my rickshaw!” Xiangzi pulled the new rickshaw to Renhe Yard. The old man glanced at it and nodded. “Not bad!” “I’ll still stay here. Only when I get a monthly job will I move to a residential gate!” Xiangzi said rather proudly. “Fine!” Fourth Master Liu nodded again. So, when Xiangzi got a monthly job, he moved to a residential gate. If he lost the job and went back to take on casual fares, he stayed at Renhe Yard.

Not pulling Fourth Master Liu’s rickshaws but still living at Renhe Yard was, in other pullers’ eyes, a rare thing. Thus, some even speculated that Xiangzi must be related to Old Man Liu. Others said Old Man Liu probably had taken a fancy to Xiangzi and wanted Tigress to take him as a live-in son-in-law. Though these guesses were tinged with envy, if it were true, after Fourth Master Liu died, Renhe Yard would surely go to Xiangzi. This made them dare only to gossip, not say anything unpleasant to Xiangzi’s face. In truth, Old Man Liu had another reason for favoring Xiangzi. Xiangzi was the kind of person who maintained old habits in new environments. If he became a soldier, he wouldn’t immediately put on airs and bully others. In the rickshaw yard, he never idled. As soon as his sweat dried, he found something to do. He cleaned rickshaws, pumped tires, aired rain covers, applied oil-no one needed to order him. He did it willingly and happily, as if it were great entertainment. The yard usually housed over twenty pullers. After returning their rickshaws, they either sat around chatting or slept with heads covered. Only Xiangzi’s hands were never idle. At first, everyone thought he was currying favor with Fourth Master Liu, acting like a dog to please him. After a few days, they saw he had no intention of showing off. He was so sincere and natural that they had nothing more to say. Old Man Liu never praised him or gave him extra attention. The old man knew the score. He knew Xiangzi was a good hand. Even if he didn’t pull his rickshaws, he still wanted Xiangzi in the yard. With Xiangzi there, to say nothing else, the courtyard and entrance were always swept clean. Tigress liked this big, simple fellow even more. Whatever she said, Xiangzi listened attentively without arguing. Other pullers, having suffered greatly, often spoke harshly. She wasn’t afraid of them, but she didn’t want to engage with them much either. So, her words were all for Xiangzi to hear. When Xiangzi took a monthly job, the Liu father and daughter felt as if they had lost a friend. When he returned, even the old man’s curses seemed more hearty and kind.

Xiangzi entered Renhe Yard, holding the two packets of matches. It wasn’t dark yet. The Liu father and daughter were having dinner. Seeing him come in, Tigress put down her chopsticks. “Xiangzi! Were you snatched by wolves or went digging for gold in Africa?” “Hmph!” Xiangzi didn’t say anything. Fourth Master Liu’s large round eyes swept over Xiangzi, but he said nothing. Xiangzi, wearing his new straw hat, sat opposite them. “If you haven’t eaten, join us!” Tigress said, as if entertaining a good friend. Xiangzi didn’t move. A sudden, indescribable warmth washed over him. He had always regarded Renhe Yard as home. With monthly jobs, masters changed often. With take on casual fares, passengers changed constantly. Only here did he always have a place to stay, with people to chat with. Now, having just escaped death and returned to familiar faces, even being offered a meal, he almost doubted if they were tricking him. Yet he nearly shed tears.

“I just ate two bowls of old tofu!” He showed a bit of politeness. “What have you been up to?” Fourth Master Liu’s large round eyes were still fixed on Xiangzi. “Where’s your rickshaw?” “My rickshaw?” Xiangzi spat. “Come eat a bowl of rice first! It won’t poison you! What are two bowls of old tofu?” Tigress pulled him over, like an elder sister-in-law doting on a younger brother. Xiangzi didn’t reach for the bowl. First, he took out the money. “Fourth Master, hold this for me-thirty dollars.” He put the small change back in his pocket. Fourth Master Liu raised an eyebrow. “Where’d it come from?” While eating, Xiangzi recounted how the soldiers had taken him. “Hmph, you fool!” After listening, Fourth Master Liu shook his head. “If you’d brought them into the city and sold them to the slaughterhouse, they’d be worth over ten dollars each. In winter, with full fur, three could fetch sixty dollars!” Xiangzi had already regretted it a bit. Hearing this, he felt even worse. But then he thought, selling three live animals to the slaughterhouse to be butchered was somewhat wicked. He and the Camels had both escaped. They all deserved to live. He said nothing, and his heart calmed.

Tigress cleared the dishes. Fourth Master Liu tilted his head as if remembering something. Suddenly, he smiled, revealing his two increasingly sturdy tiger teeth. “Fool, you said you fell ill in Haidian? Why didn’t you come straight back via the Huangcun road?” “I came around the Western Hills. I was afraid of being caught on the main road. What if the villagers figured it out and still treated me as a deserter?” Fourth Master Liu smiled, his eyes turning inward twice. He worried Xiangzi might be hiding something. What if the thirty dollars were stolen? He didn’t want to hold stolen goods. In his youth, he had done all sorts of lawless things. Now, he considered himself reformed and had to be careful, knowing how to be careful. Xiangzi’s story had this small gap, but Xiangzi explained it without a hint of nervousness. The old man felt reassured.