Explore Chapter 7 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.
He felt somewhat ashamed toward Tigress. But since the affair had arisen from her seduction, and moreover he had no intention of coveting her money, he thought that cutting off all ties with her from now on wouldn't be too dishonorable. What worried him was the bit of money that Fourth Master Liu was holding for him. If he went to demand it immediately, he feared the old man might become suspicious. If he never went to see the father and daughter again, perhaps Tigress, in a fit of anger, would say some bad things to the old man and "squander" that money. Yet if he continued to entrust the old man with saving the money, every time he went to the Renhe Yard he would run into her, and that would be terribly embarrassing. He couldn't think of a proper solution, and the more he failed to find one, the more uneasy he became.
He rather wanted to ask Mr. Cao for advice, but how to put it? The episode with Tigress was something he couldn't tell anyone. Thinking of this, he truly regretted it. This matter, he began to realize, couldn't be severed with a single cut. Such things are never washed clean, like a black stain on flesh. For no reason, he lost his rickshaw. For no reason, he got entangled in this. He felt that his whole life was probably ruined. No matter how hard he tried, it was all in vain. After much thought, he saw this point. In the end, he might still have to swallow his pride and take Tigress. If not for her, then for those few rickshaws? "A cuckold gets to eat two stir-fried meats!" He couldn't bear it, but when the time came, it might be unavoidable. He had no choice but to press on, doing what he could while waiting for the worst. He no longer dared to be as confident as before. His stature, strength, and spirit all amounted to nothing. Fate was his own, yet controlled by others. Controlled by some utterly despicable things.
In principle, he should have been very content, because the Cao residence was, among all the households he had worked for, the most delightful. The wages at the Cao residence weren't higher than elsewhere. Apart from festival bonuses, there wasn't much extra money. But Mr. Cao and Mrs. Cao were both very kind, treating everyone as a human being. Xiangzi wanted to earn more money, to strive desperately for it. But he also wanted a place to live that felt like a room, and food that could fill his belly. The Cao residence was clean everywhere, even the servants' quarters. The meals weren't bad, and they never gave the servants rotten food to eat. Having a spacious room of his own, and being able to eat three meals leisurely, plus the master's courtesy, made Xiangzi, even Xiangzi, unwilling to focus solely on money. Moreover, with suitable food and lodging, and work that wasn't exhausting, keeping his body in good shape wasn't a loss. If he paid for his own meals, he definitely wouldn't eat so well. Now, with ready-made food available, and knowing it wouldn't just pass through him, why not eat his fill? Food was also bought with money, a fact he calculated clearly. Eating well, sleeping well, and being able to keep himself clean like a proper person wasn't easy to find. Besides, although the Cao family didn't play mahjong or often host guests, and there wasn't much extra money, doing some temporary tasks could still earn him a dime or two. For example, if Mrs. Cao asked him to buy pills for the child, she would always give him an extra dime, telling him to take a rickshaw, even though she knew he could run faster than anyone. That bit of money wasn't much, but it made him feel a sense of humanity, a consideration that warmed his heart. Xiangzi had encountered quite a few masters, and nine out of ten would delay paying wages for a day if they could, showing that it was best to use people for free, and that servants were essentially dogs, or even worse than dogs. The Cao family was an exception, so he liked it here. He would tidy the courtyard and water the flowers without waiting for orders. And whenever they saw him doing these things, they would say some kind words. Taking advantage of such occasions, they would find some old items for him to exchange for matches, even though those items could still be used, and he would keep them himself. Here, he sensed a bit of human warmth.
In Xiangzi's eyes, Fourth Master Liu could be considered Huang Tianba. Though formidable, he valued face and reputation, never entirely black-hearted. The respectable figures in his mind, besides Huang Tianba, had to be that Confucius. He didn't quite understand what kind of person Confucius really was, but it was said he knew many characters and was quite reasonable. Among the households he had worked for, there were both civil and martial types. Among the martial ones, not a single one could match Fourth Master Liu. Among the civil ones, although there were gentlemen who taught at universities and officials who held good positions in the yamen, and they certainly knew many characters, he had never met a reasonable one. Even if the master was somewhat reasonable, the ladies and young misses were hard to serve. Only Mr. Cao both knew characters and was reasonable, and Mrs. Cao was also proper and well-liked. So Mr. Cao must be Confucius. If Xiangzi couldn't recall what Confucius looked like, then he must resemble Mr. Cao, regardless of whether Confucius would approve or not.
In truth, Mr. Cao wasn't all that brilliant. He was just a middling figure who sometimes taught and sometimes did other things. He considered himself a socialist and also an aesthete, somewhat influenced by William Morris. In politics and art, he didn't have profound insights. But he had one good point: whatever little he believed in, he could implement in small matters of daily life. He seemed to realize that he didn't have remarkable talent to achieve earth-shattering deeds, so he arranged his work and family according to his own ideals. Though it didn't benefit society, at least he wanted his words and actions to align, avoiding hypocrisy. Therefore, he paid attention to small things, as if to say that as long as the little family was kept beautiful, society could be left to its own devices. This sometimes made him ashamed, sometimes pleased. It seemed clear to him that his family was a small oasis in the desert, only providing some clear water and food to those who came, without greater significance.
Xiangzi happened to come to this small oasis. Having walked in the desert for so many days, he thought it a miracle. He had never met anyone like Mr. Cao before, so he regarded this man as a sage. This might be due to his lack of experience, or perhaps such people were rare in the world. When pulling Mr. Cao out, Mr. Cao's attire was so elegant, the man so lively and dignified, while he himself was so clean and neat, tall and robust. He ran with extra joy, as if only he were fit to pull Mr. Cao. At home, everything was so clean, always so quiet, making him feel comfortable and secure. In the countryside, he often saw old men sitting silently under the winter sun or autumn moon, holding bamboo pipes. Though he was still young and couldn't imitate these elders, he loved watching them sit so quietly. There must be-he surmised-some flavor to it. Now, though in the city, the tranquility of the Cao residence was enough to remind him of the countryside. He really wished to take up a pipe and savor some flavor.
Unfortunately, that woman and that bit of money kept him unsettled. His heart was like a green leaf, wrapped in silk by an insect, ready to spin a cocoon. Over this matter, he couldn't put his mind at ease. With others, even with Mr. Cao, he often spaced out, answering irrelevantly. This made him very upset. The Cao household slept early, and by nine in the evening, there was nothing to do. He sat alone in his room or the courtyard, tossing and turning over these two things. He even thought of getting married immediately, which would surely cut off Tigress's notions. But how could he support a family by pulling a rickshaw? He knew the hardships of the poor brothers in the tenements: the men pulled rickshaws, the women did sewing for pennies, the children collected coal cinders. In summer, they picked up watermelon rinds from dirt piles to gnaw on; in winter, they all rushed to porridge kitchens. Xiangzi couldn't endure that. Moreover, if he married, the money in Old Man Liu's hands would surely be irrecoverable. Would Tigress let him off lightly? He couldn't abandon that money; it was earned with his life!
More than ten days after the Mid-Autumn Festival, the weather slowly turned cool. He reckoned he needed to add some clothing. More money! Buying clothes meant he couldn't save money at the same time. The hope of buying a rickshaw-he hardly dared to hope anymore! Even if he kept pulling private rickshaws, what would become of his life?
One evening, Mr. Cao returned a bit late from the east city. Xiangzi, being cautious, took the road all the way from Tiananmen Square. The open road, with few people, a slight cool breeze, and quiet lamplight, invigorated him. For a while, he forgot the pent-up gloom in his heart. Listening to his own footsteps and the light creak of the rickshaw, he forgot everything. Unbuttoning his collar, the cool breeze whistled against his chest. He felt exhilarated, as if he could just keep running like this, all the way to who knows where, even to death-that would be straightforward. He ran faster and faster. Whenever there was a rickshaw ahead, he "overtook" it, soon passing Tiananmen. His feet seemed like two springs, almost bouncing the moment they touched the ground. The rear wheels spun so fast they blurred, the rubber tires seeming to lift off the ground. The man and rickshaw were as if blown by a strong gust. Mr. Cao, cooled by the breeze, was probably half-asleep. Otherwise, he would have stopped Xiangzi from flying like this. Xiangzi had stretched his legs, vaguely thinking that sweating profusely would let him sleep soundly tonight, without further worries.
Not far from Beichang Street, the northern half of the road was darkened by the locust trees outside the red wall. Xiangzi was about to slow down when his foot hit something raised. His foot reached it, and so did the wheel. Xiangzi tumbled out. Crack, the rickshaw shaft broke. "What happened?" Mr. Cao fell out with his own words.
Xiangzi didn't make a sound, scrambling up from the ground. Mr. Cao also sat up lightly. "What happened?"
Under the electric light at the entrance of Beichang Street, Mr. Cao saw that his right hand had scraped off a patch of skin. "Xiangzi, stop!"
Xiangzi looked at himself and began to feel the pain. Both knees and his right elbow were scraped. On his cheek, what he thought was sweat turned out to be blood. Without caring to do or think anything, he sat on the stone steps of the gateway, staring blankly at the rickshaw with the broken shaft. The brand-new black-lacquered rickshaw, with a section of the shaft broken off, exposed two rough white wood stubs. It was terribly incongruous and ugly, like a beautifully pasted paper doll without feet, just sticking out two sorghum stalks. Xiangzi stared blankly at those two white wood stubs.
He sat motionless, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the broken shaft. Those two white wood stubs seemed to pierce his heart.
"What's the matter with you? Not a word, hiding here. Look, you scared me! The master is calling you!" Nanny Gao's words always mixed facts with emotions, seeming both complex and moving. She was a widow in her early thirties, clean, brisk, efficient and careful. Elsewhere, some found her too assertive and full of ideas, often acting in mysterious and dubious ways. The Cao family liked to employ clean and bright people, and didn't pay much attention to minor faults, so she had been with them for two or three years. Even when the Cao family went elsewhere, they always brought her along. "The master is calling you!" she repeated. When Xiangzi stood up, she saw the blood on his face. "Good heavens, my! What happened? Aren't you moving? If you get tetanus, that's terrible! Hurry! The master has medicine!"
"Madam, he took quite a fall." Nanny Gao, afraid Mrs. Cao might not notice, busied herself pouring cold water into a basin and kept talking. "I knew it all along. When he runs, he doesn't care for his life. Sooner or later, there'd be an accident. Sure enough! Aren't you going to wash up? After washing, apply some medicine, really!"
"Wash up first, apply some medicine, then we'll talk." Mr. Cao said, looking at his hand as Mrs. Cao slowly wrapped it with gauze.
"Wash up first!" Nanny Gao found her voice again. "The master hasn't said anything. Don't you start making accusations!"
Xiangzi still didn't move. "No need to wash. It'll be fine soon. A private rickshaw puller who falls with his passenger and damages the rickshaw has no face to continue..." His words didn't fully express his meaning, but his emotions were spent, only lacking a loud cry. Quitting and forfeiting wages, in Xiangzi's view, was almost like suicide. But responsibility and face, at this moment, seemed more important than life, because it wasn't just anyone he had fallen with, but Mr. Cao. If he had fallen with that Mrs. Yang, so be it-served her right! With Mrs. Yang, he could adopt the street's roughness, since she didn't treat him as human, and he needn't be polite. Money was everything; face and rules didn't matter. Mr. Cao was not that kind of person at all. He had to sacrifice money to preserve face. He had no time to hate anyone, only his own fate. He almost thought: after leaving the Cao family, he would never pull a rickshaw again. His own life might be worthless, something to gamble with, but what about others' lives? What if he really killed someone? He hadn't considered this before, but because he had injured Mr. Cao, he realized this truth. Fine, he could forgo the wages, change trades, no longer engage in this life-threatening business. Pulling a rickshaw was his ideal profession. Giving it up meant abandoning hope. He felt his whole life would be muddled through, not even aspiring to be a good rickshaw puller anymore, despite his large frame! When picking up odd fares outside, he had unapologetically 'snatched' business from others-called 'snatching.' In business, he was mocked and cursed, but such shamelessness was precisely because he strived to buy a rickshaw. He could forgive himself. But causing trouble as a private rickshaw puller-what could he say? If this got out-Xiangzi fell with a passenger, damaged the rickshaw-what kind of private rickshaw puller is that? Trash! Xiangzi had no way out! He couldn't wait for Mr. Cao to dismiss him; he had to roll out first!
"Yes, sir," Nanny Gao spoke up again. "Xiangzi is too proud. Of course, falling with the master like this! But since the master says it's not your fault, don't be stubborn! Look at him, strong and sturdy, yet like a child, truly distressed! Madam, say something to reassure him!" Nanny Gao's words were like a phonograph record, turning in circles, including everyone without transitions.
The Cao couple went to rest. Nanny Gao took the medicine bottle and followed Xiangzi out. In his room, she set down the bottle and stood at the doorway. "Apply it yourself later. I say, don't take this so much to heart. In the past, when my old man was alive, I often quit jobs too. First, because I worked hard outside, and he wasn't ambitious, which angered me. Second, being young and hot-tempered, if a word didn't sit right, off I went! Selling labor for money, we're not slaves. You have your stinking money, but even a clay figurine has some earthiness. This old lady isn't always at your service! Now I'm much better. With the old man gone, I have nothing to worry about, so my temper has softened. Here-I've been here almost three years. Yes, started on the ninth day of the ninth month-the extra money is too little, but they treat people well. We sell our strength for money. Just talking nice doesn't cut it. But then again, looking at things long-term has benefits. Quitting every few days, resting six months a year, that's not economical. Better to meet a kind master. If you work long enough, even with little extra money, you can save some over time. Today's matter, since the master didn't say anything, let it go. Why fuss? Not that I'm putting on airs, but you're still a young brother, prone to flare-ups. No need at all. Anger doesn't fill your belly. Someone as honest and steady as you, staying peacefully here for some time, is better than flying around everywhere. I'm not siding with them; I'm thinking of you. We get along so well!" She caught her breath. "Alright, see you tomorrow. Don't be stubborn. I'm plain-spoken, I say what's on my mind!"