Explore Chapter 6 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.
An early autumn night. A little wind rustled through the starlight and leaf shadows. Xiangzi looked up at the vast Milky Way and sighed. The air was so cool, his chest so broad, yet he felt suffocated, breathless. He wanted to sit down and weep bitterly. With his physique, his endurance, his fierce pride - to be treated like a dog, unable to hold down a job! He didn't just resent the Yangs. A vague, hopeless dread crept over him, the fear that his life would never improve. Dragging his bedding roll, he walked slower and slower, as if he were no longer the Xiangzi who could run ten miles at the drop of a hat.
Out on the main street, pedestrians were few, but the street lamps shone bright, making the emptiness feel even more vast and directionless. Where to go? Naturally, back to the Harmony Rickshaw Yard. Yet his heart ached again. For tradesmen and laborers, it wasn't the lack of business they feared, but losing a customer who had already shown up - like a restaurant or barber shop where a patron walks in, takes a look around, and walks right out again. Xiangzi knew perfectly well that being hired and let go was common. If one place didn't want you, another would. But he had humbled himself to keep this job, swallowing his pride all to save up for a rickshaw of his own, only to end up with a stint of barely three days - just like those old hands who made the rounds of wealthy households. It wounded him. He almost felt too ashamed to return to Harmony Yard, to become the butt of everyone's jokes: "Look! Even Camel Xiangzi blew out after three days! Hah!"
If not Harmony Yard, where else? To stop himself from brooding, he walked straight towards Xi'anmen Street. The front of Harmony Yard comprised three shopfront rooms. The middle one served as the office, where rickshaw men could only come to settle accounts or discuss business; they weren't allowed to wander through freely, because the east and west rooms were the bedrooms of Old Liu and his daughter. Beside the west room was a carriage gate with two dark green lacquered doors. Above them arched a thick iron bar from which hung an extremely bright, unshaded electric lamp. Beneath it hung a horizontal plaque of gilded iron characters: "Harmony Rickshaw Yard." The men came and went through this gate to take out or return their rickshaws. The deep green lacquer of the doors and the golden characters gleamed under the stark white electric light. The rickshaws passing in and out were all fine ones, their black or yellow lacquer equally glossy and rich, paired with snow-white seat covers. Even the pullers felt a touch of pride, as if considering themselves the aristocracy of their trade. Passing through the gate and turning past the west room, one entered a square courtyard with an old locust tree in the middle. The east and west wings had open fronts and served as the rickshaw shed. The south wing and the few small rooms in the little courtyard behind it were all dormitories for the rickshaw men.
It was probably past eleven when Xiangzi saw the exceptionally bright yet strangely lonely lamp of Harmony Yard. The office and the east room were dark, but the west room was still lit. He knew Tigress wasn't asleep yet. He meant to slip in quietly, not letting her see him - precisely because she usually thought so highly of him, he didn't want her to be the first to witness his failure. Just as he pulled the rickshaw up to her window, Tigress emerged from the carriage gate.
His worst fear realized, Xiangzi's shame and frustration congealed into a solid lump. He stopped dead in his tracks, rooted to the spot. Unable to speak, he stared dumbly at Tigress. She looked different today - whether from the electric light or from powder, her face was much paler than usual, and the pallor softened her fierce air considerably. There was definitely a touch of rouge on her lips, lending even Tigress a hint of coyness. Seeing this, Xiangzi felt extremely strange; his heart grew even more flustered. Having never regarded her as a woman before, the sudden sight of those red lips made him feel unexpectedly bashful. She wore a short green silk jacket over a pair of wide-legged black trousers. The green jacket shimmered under the lamp with a soft, mournful sheen, so short it revealed a strip of her white waistband, making the green look even crisper. Below, the loose black trousers stirred faintly in the breeze, like some sinister shadow trying to shake off the garish light and melt into the darkness. Xiangzi dared not look any longer. He lowered his head in confusion, but the image of that small, glowing green jacket remained in his mind. Tigress, he knew, never dressed like this ordinarily. Given the Liu family's wealth, she could have worn silks every day. But dealing with rickshaw men all the time, she always wore simple cotton clothes; even if they had a pattern, it wasn't conspicuous on cloth. Xiangzi felt as if he were seeing something utterly novel, both familiar and strange, and it left his heart in turmoil.
Already distressed, and now encountering this novel creature under the intense glare, he was at a loss. Unwilling to move himself, he rather wished Tigress would hurry back inside or order him to do something. He simply couldn't endure this torment - a torment utterly alien to him, and deeply miserable.
"Hey!" She took a step closer, her voice not loud. "Don't just stand there like a dummy! Go, put the rickshaw away, and come right back. I've got something to tell you. Inside."
Accustomed to helping her with chores, he had little choice but to obey. But today she was different, and he felt a strong urge to think things over. Yet standing there pondering felt terribly awkward. With no better plan, he pulled the rickshaw inside. He glanced at the south wing - no lights were on. Probably everyone was asleep, or perhaps some hadn't returned yet. After parking the rickshaw, he walked back to her door. Suddenly, his heart began to pound.
On the table were a few pears, not quite ripe yet, their skins still greenish. A wine pot, three white porcelain cups. A large serving platter held half a soy-sauce chicken and some snacks like smoked liver and pickled tripe.
"Look," Tigress pointed him to a chair. Only after he sat down did she continue, "Look, I'm treating myself today. You have some too!" As she spoke, she poured him a cup of wine. The sharp, raw scent of the baijiu, mixed with the aroma of the smoked meats, seemed especially thick and heavy. "Drink up, have some of this chicken. I've eaten already, so don't stand on ceremony! I just did a fortune-telling with dominoes, and sure enough, it said you'd come back. Spooky, isn't it?"
"Then get out! What's the matter, my kindness not good enough for you? You silly camel! It won't burn a hole in you! Even I can drink four liang. Don't believe me? Watch!" She picked up the cup, gulped down most of it, closed her eyes, and let out a sharp "Ha!" Holding up the cup: "You drink! Or I'll pinch your ears and pour it down your throat!"
Xiangzi was full of pent-up resentment with nowhere to vent it. Faced with this teasing, he really wanted to glare at her. But he knew Tigress had always been decent to him, and she was blunt with everyone, so he shouldn't offend her. Since he wouldn't offend her, he thought, why not simply pour out his grievances to her? He wasn't usually much of a talker, but today it felt as if a thousand words were bottled up inside, clamoring to be spoken. Thinking this, he felt Tigress wasn't mocking him but showing him a kind of frank affection. He took the cup and drained it. A slow, precise, powerful heat traveled down his throat. He stretched his neck, straightened his chest, and let out two rather clumsy belches.
Hearing this, his mind took a sudden turn. He sensed something amiss in all this. At the same time, he couldn't bring himself to leave. Her face was so close; her clothes were so clean and smooth; her lips were so red. All of it stirred a new kind of excitement in him. She was still as plain and old as ever, yet she seemed charged with a new vitality, as if she had suddenly become someone else - still herself, but with something added. He dared not examine this new element too closely, yet neither could he accept it lightly, nor could he bear to refuse it. His face flushed. As if to bolster his courage, he took another sip of wine. His earlier intention to confide his troubles was forgotten. Blushing, he couldn't help stealing more glances at her. The more he looked, the more confused he became. She increasingly revealed something he couldn't fathom, transmitting a kind of hot, fierce energy towards him, until gradually she turned into an abstract entity. He warned himself to be careful, yet he also wanted to be bold. After three cups of wine, he forgot all about caution. Gazing at her dazedly, he felt inexplicably elated and brave, fiercely eager to seize some new experience and pleasure. Usually, he was a little afraid of her. Now, there was nothing to fear. Instead, he himself seemed to have gained an air of authority and strength, as if he could hold her like a cat in his hands.
The lamp inside went out. The sky was very dark. Now and then, a star or two would pierce the Milky Way or streak into the darkness, trailing red or white tails of light - now floating lightly, now standing firm; now plummeting straight down, now sweeping across the sky. Sometimes they flickered and trembled, stirring the heavens with light and heat, giving the darkness sudden flashes of explosive brilliance. Sometimes one or two, sometimes several stars fell at once, making the still autumn sky quiver slightly, throwing the myriads of stars into momentary confusion. Sometimes a solitary giant star would thrust sideways into a corner of the sky, its tail extremely long, scattering starry sparks - red, then turning yellow. In its final, desperate surge, it would suddenly, with a kind of wild joy, paint a white stripe across that corner of the sky, as if slashing through ten thousand layers of darkness to let in, and linger within, a milky light. When the afterglow faded, the darkness seemed to sway a few times before closing in again. The quiet, lazy multitude of stars returned to their places, smiling in the autumn wind. On the ground, autumn fireflies seeking mates flitted about, playing their own star-like games.
The next day, Xiangzi rose very early, hitched his rickshaw, and went out. His head and throat ached a little - his first time drinking - but he paid it no mind. Sitting at the mouth of a small alley, the morning breeze cooled his head; he knew the headache would pass soon enough. But other matters weighed on his heart, stifling him, and for the moment he saw no way to shake them off. The events of last night left him bewildered, ashamed, distressed, and sensing a certain danger.
He couldn't figure out what was going on with Tigress. She was no virgin - Xiangzi had only learned this a few hours ago. He had always respected her, and he'd never heard of her being improper in any way. Though she was casual and straightforward with everyone, nobody gossiped about her behind her back. Even if some rickshaw men spoke ill of her, it was only about her fierceness, nothing else. So why had last night happened?
This seemed so muddled that Xiangzi began to doubt the events of the previous night. How could she have been waiting for him so intently if she didn't know he was at the yard? If just anyone would do... Xiangzi lowered his head. He came from the countryside. Though he hadn't given marriage much thought, he had his own calculations. If he owned his rickshaw, lived a bit more comfortably, and decided to marry, he would surely go back to the village and find a young, strong girl who could bear hardship, cook, and sew. Young men his age, even with someone keeping an eye on them, would sneak off to the "white houses." Xiangzi had always resisted. Firstly, he considered himself ambitious, not one to waste money on women. Secondly, he had seen with his own eyes those foolish spenders - some barely eighteen or nineteen - who, in the latrine, heads pressed against the wall, couldn't even relieve themselves. Lastly, he had to stay proper himself, to be worthy of a future wife. Because if he ever married, it had to be to a pure, clean girl, so he himself had to act the part. But now, now... Thinking of Tigress, if he considered her a friend, she was indeed not bad. But as a woman? She was ugly, old, fierce, shameless! Even thinking of the soldiers who had stolen his rickshaw and nearly killed him didn't fill him with the same hatred and disgust as thinking of her! She had destroyed the last shred of innocence he'd brought from the countryside. Now he was a man who had stolen a woman!
Besides, what if this got out and Old Liu found out? Did Old Liu know his daughter was a loose woman? If he didn't know, wouldn't Xiangzi end up bearing the blame alone? If he knew all along but couldn't be bothered to restrain his daughter, then what kind of people were this father and daughter? And what did that make him, for getting mixed up with them? Even if both father and daughter were willing, he couldn't have her - whether Old Liu owned sixty rickshaws, six hundred, or six thousand! He had to leave Harmony Yard immediately, cut all ties clean. Xiangzi had Xiangzi's abilities. With his own skills, he would buy a rickshaw, marry a proper wife - that was the honorable, aboveboard way! Thinking this, he raised his head. He felt like a real man, with nothing to fear, nothing to worry about. As long as he worked hard, he was bound to succeed.
He missed two fares in a row. That uneasy feeling suddenly returned. He didn't want to think about it, yet his heart felt clogged. This affair seemed utterly different from anything else. Even if he found a solution, it wouldn't be easy to simply forget. It wasn't just that he felt as if something sticky clung to his skin; a black spot seemed etched in his heart, never to be washed clean. No matter how much he resented her, loathed her, she seemed to have a firm grip on his heart. The more he tried not to think, the more she would leap into his mind - a naked her, handing over all ugliness and beauty at once, the whole package, like buying a pile of junk where, among the broken copper and scrap iron, there were one or two gleaming, colorful little trinkets that made it hard to refuse. He had never been so intimate with anyone before. Though it was sudden, though it felt like a trick, a relationship like this couldn't be casually forgotten. Even if you tried to set it aside, it would naturally circle in your mind, as if it had taken root. For him, it wasn't just an experience; it was also an indescribable disturbance that left him at a complete loss. He had no answers for her, for himself, for the present or the future. He was like a little insect that had flown into a spider's web; by the time it wanted to struggle, it was already too late.
In a daze, he managed a few fares. Even while running, his mind didn't forget this matter. Not thinking of it clearly from start to finish, but constantly catching a vague meaning, a fleeting flavor, a wisp of emotion - all indistinct yet strangely intimate. He badly wanted to go off and drink alone, to drink himself into oblivion. Then maybe he'd feel some relief, free from this torment! But he didn't dare. He couldn't let this ruin him. He thought again of buying a rickshaw. But he couldn't concentrate; something always blocked his thoughts. Before he could properly think about the rickshaw, this thing had already stolen out, occupying his heart like a dark cloud blotting out the sun, cutting off all light. By evening, when he thought of calling it a day, he felt even worse. He had to return to the yard, but he truly dreaded it. What if he ran into her? He pulled his empty rickshaw around the streets in circles. Two or three times he came close to the yard, only to turn around and head somewhere else, very much like a child playing hooky for the first time, afraid to walk through his own front door.
Strangely, the more he wanted to avoid her, the more he also wanted to encounter her. The darker the sky grew, the stronger this urge became. A bold,明知ly reckless curiosity gripped him tight. It was like poking a hornet's nest with a stick as a child - terrified, yet with a heart pounding to try, as if driven by some evil spirit or demon. Vaguely, he sensed a force stronger than himself, a force that wanted to knead him into a ball and toss him into a blazing fire. He couldn't stop his own advance.
He circled back to Xi'anmen. This time, he didn't want to hesitate anymore. He would go straight in and find her. She was no longer anyone in particular; she was just a woman. His whole body grew hot. Just as he reached the front gate, a man in his forties walked into the lamplight. Xiangzi seemed to recognize his face and manner, but didn't dare greet him. Almost instinctively, he called out, "Rickshaw?" The man paused. "Xiangzi?"
Xiangzi felt like flying with joy. All the troubles of these past days were suddenly swept clean away, like a white stone path washed by a heavy rain. Mr. Cao was his old employer. Though they hadn't been together long, they got along very well. Mr. Cao was an exceedingly kind man, and his household was small - just a wife and a little boy.
He stood there a long time before deciding to go in and see her. He'd tell her he'd found another monthly job; hand over the rental fee for the last two days; withdraw his savings; and make a clean break - of course he couldn't say that part outright, but she'd understand.
She cut him off. "You don't know what's good for you!" She sat up, pointing a finger at him, half-smiling, half-scowling. "You've got food here, clothes here. Must you go out and sweat your guts out for the fun of it? The old man can't control me. I'm not going to stay a widow forever! Even if the old man digs his heels in, I've got a bit of my own savings. The two of us could get two or three rickshaws, bring in a dollar or so a day - isn't that better than you running your legs off all over the streets? What's wrong with me? So I'm a bit older than you, not by much! And I can look after you, care for you!"
"A man with a cornbread brain if ever there was one! Sit down first, I won't bite!" She finished, smiled, and revealed a pair of pointed canine teeth.
"It's with the old man. It won't get lost, stop worrying. And don't you go asking him for it now - you know his temper! When it's enough to buy a rickshaw, then you ask. He won't short you a single cent. Ask now, and he'll curse the very soul out of you! He treats you well! It's safe. If even one copper goes missing, I'll pay you double! You country bumpkin! Don't make me start mocking you!"
Xiangzi had nothing more to say. Bowing his head, he fumbled in his pocket for a while, then took out the rental for the last two days and placed it on the table. "For two days." Then, remembering something, he added, "Consider the rickshaw returned today. I'll take a day off tomorrow." He didn't really want a day off at all. But this seemed decisive. Once the rickshaw was returned, he would never again stay at Harmony Yard.