Explore Chapter 8 of "牛天赐传" with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
Just when she was most fearful, Old Mama Liu fell ill again, and gravely so. Old Mrs. Niu had plenty of medicines, but she knew: medicine could cure sickness, but not fate. Old Mama Liu was nearly seventy. The old lady was troubled: if Mama Liu should die, where would she find someone so dependable? It wasn't that "old" meant good-no-Old Mama Liu's virtue lay in being old but still strong. If an old horse can still work, who would spend the money to buy a young one? Besides, keeping a capable old mare showed kindness, didn't it? But since the old horse refused to eat hay, one had to think otherwise. Such is the fate of a lackey!
Following the flow of her thoughts, Mrs. Niu naturally turned to Nanny Ji. Nanny Ji was young and strong, and also from the same village-she could easily take Old Mama Liu's place. But Nanny Ji had her own child-could she bring it along? Letting some disreputable wild child run around with Tianci was absolutely out of the question. She could only let her "fill in temporarily." As for a long-term plan-she suddenly thought of Sihu. Marrying off Sihu would serve two purposes: it would keep him tied down, and she could have a maidservant as well. That wasn't bad. After all, Sihu's wife would have to be provided by the Niu household-he had no home or property of his own. But if Sihu had children after marriage? With that thought, the old lady cooled off. The lower classes were always having children-it infuriated her. Fine: instead of getting a maidservant, she'd end up with children all over the place. What a charming prospect! No way.
Old Mama Liu's illness, however, did not hesitate-it worsened day by day. Sihu went to the countryside and fetched her son. Mrs. Niu said magnanimously: "One should die in one's own home." Old Mama Liu had never expected this. The mistress promised her a coffin as compensation for decades of service.
After Old Mama Liu left, Nanny Ji took over temporarily. Not many days later, Mama Liu died. Could Nanny Ji take the position permanently? Old Mrs. Niu gave no sign. She saw that Nanny Ji worked hard, but the child problem remained. Just then, word came from the countryside: Nanny Ji's child had died. Nanny Ji dared not weep aloud, lest the master think it inauspicious, but for two or three nights her tears never dried. For those few dollars, she had nursed another woman's child, and her own had died-died! She dreamed of her baby, thought of her baby, whispered to her baby-never to see him again! She hated herself, hated her husband, hated Tianci-there was no love left in the world. "Poverty" kills everything. She hadn't eaten properly for two or three days, but she still had to cook for others. The smell of grease nauseated her, made her want to smash all the plates and bowls. In the end she had to steel herself-money is merciless. She had to work for her husband, think of him. She had to voluntarily forget her child and hold back her tears. Money neither listens to nor forgives weeping.
The mistress calculated: marrying off Sihu would cost over a hundred dollars. That money would have to be spent sooner or later, true, but delaying it was certainly beneficial. She would let Nanny Ji try first: "If you want to come back, you may. I'm short-handed anyway. And now that the child is dead, you have nothing to worry about. It's not bad to work for a few years while you're still young."
The mistress had more to say. Nanny Ji had no heart to listen, but had to: "When you come back, you'll take over Old Mama Liu's work. Let me make it clear: you won't be a wet nurse anymore, so I can't pay you as much. It's not a matter of one or two dollars-rules and discipline are rules and discipline. Wet nurses get paid more by custom. I won't starve you; the food here is good, you know that. If you work well, my cast-off clothes will be yours. And at the three festivals there will be bonuses. I don't care about a dollar or two, but I can't let people laugh at me-there's no maid in this city who gets five dollars a month. From now on, I'll give you three dollars. That's rules and discipline. If you do good work, I'll add fifty cents for snacks-good for good. Is that all right?"
Nanny Ji nodded. She could not speak. Having been in the city so long, she knew that a maid's wages really were three dollars a month. She had nothing to say-that was rules and discipline!
She was gone for three days. Tianci began sleeping with Mrs. Niu. From then on, his relationship with Nanny Ji could neither be called good nor ill. Nanny Ji always bore a slight grudge against him. She kept remembering: her own child was two months older than Tianci. The more Tianci grew, the more it pained her-her own child would never grow. Tianci naturally had no idea. But gradually, he began to sense something odd in Nanny Ji's eyes and had to avoid her. Yet Nanny Ji did him favors too. Whenever he was hungry, eyeing the food on the table but not daring to ask, he would sneak to her. At such times, even her strange gaze was forgivable-she would always toast a piece of bread for him: "Eat, little wretch! You only come when you're hungry." Tianci had no choice: first comfort his stomach, then worry about his soul. Slowly he divided the household into two groups: men and women. The women's group was not to be trifled with.
As he grew older, he became more aware of the differences between men and women, and disliked women more. When he was four or five, if Old Mrs. Niu had a happy or sad occasion among relatives or friends, she would sometimes take him along. Before departure came all the instructions and training: don't say you're hungry in front of others, don't eat too much, don't shout loudly, don't dirty your clothes. How to bow? Show me! How to offer congratulations? Say... Then came the dressing up: a short mandarin jacket, sleeves wide and sharply angled-arms down, the sleeves stuck out; arms up, he looked ready to fly. A long gown, folded up at the waist yet still brushing the feet-if he wasn't careful he'd trip. A small satin skullcap with a red button-in summer, a flat-topped straw hat that turned around his head. Dressed like this, his face would involuntarily lengthen. Overall he sometimes looked like a shrunken bridegroom, sometimes like a precocious magistrate. He deeply despised himself when so attired. As he went out the gate, he dared not look at Sihu, knowing full well that Sihu would stick out his tongue at him.
At home he was almost tormented to pieces by the women. Outside, there were even more women, all waiting for him. "Aiyo, Fuguan, you've grown so tall! This short mandarin jacket is so chic!" He could only hang his head and gaze at his shoe-tips, face burning. The women at home jabbed him in the back: "Speak! Can't you speak, you homebody?" He couldn't think of anything to say; tears circled in his eyes. Then they patted his flat back of the skull (just to make the skullcap bob, because there was empty space beneath). They pinched his cheeks, sniffed his hands, did whatever was annoying-oh, these women!
Though they showed such friendliness on the surface, he could tell they didn't love him. When his mother was present, they would call him "good baby, precious treasure." When his mother wasn't there, they ignored him-their eyes would slide right over his short mandarin jacket. What hurt him more: if he tried to play with other people's children, they would gently pull their own child away, smiling at him: "Play later." He would stand rooted for ages, his jacket stiff and hard, like a kite that had never been flown. He didn't understand why, but he-at four or five-felt something wrong. He could only mutter curses to himself: "Damn it!"
When he got home, he would be interrogated: "Who played with you?" "Little Bald Head. We played a little, then his mother took him away." "Oh! Oh..." Mother nodded again and again, her expression sour.
If Father took him out, there were none of these troubles. When Father went to offer congratulations or condolences to relatives and friends, it was just for the food. On the road they would plan: You like meatballs, don't you? All right, Father will give you lots. Where to eat? Go out of town for fun? Or go to Old Black's dried fruit shop? If they went to Old Black's, Father could take a nap, and Tianci could eat raisins and candied dates freely. And the shop assistants were happy to play with him: hide-and-seek in the cabinets, or pull the carrot, or gamble for cigarette pictures. Men didn't ask this and that. Besides, Old Black had a bunch of children. Those among them who could walk were rarely home. But if he happened to catch them at home, the fun was nearly as good as being an emperor. Those children never wore short mandarin jackets, always went barefoot, and were supremely experienced. Boys and girls alike-they all knew what every creek outside town produced, knew how to dig out sparrows, catch dragonflies, scoop shrimp, hook frogs, dig for crickets... Their faces, necks, and backs were black and shiny; if there was mud, they didn't bother to wipe it off, waiting for the mud to fall off by itself or be washed away by sweat.
After half a day playing with them, Tianci realized how shallow he was and delighted in their kindness. They all deferred to him: for instance, playing blind-man's-bluff, if he was caught, instead of ten slaps they gave him only five-but the slaps hurt just as much. Tianci endured the pain, not crying; he knew their slaps came from sincerity-if it didn't hurt, what was the point? They earnestly told him that a short mandarin jacket was not meant for humans. Could you possibly wear a jacket to go out of town and dig sparrows or scoop shrimp? They left him speechless, and he secretly resented his mother. When it came to mothers, they had even more advice: "Mother? Mother's legs are slow. One run and you're away-she can't catch you." "What if Mother won't give you food?" asked Tianci. "Then don't eat! Wait till she comes to coax you." "What if she doesn't come?" "First steal a bun to fill your stomach."
Hearing this and more, Tianci began to feel how a man should act. On the way home with Father, he first got Father's consent-no need to wear the short mandarin jacket on the road. Father didn't object. Once home, he prepared to pull off his socks and see if going barefoot worked. He stripped off his socks and first went to the kitchen to sound out Nanny Ji. "You! Want a beating?" Tianci said to himself: "Beat me? I'll run!" Pretending nothing was wrong, he walked toward Mother's room, his nose curled with high rebellious spirit. "You're getting bolder!" The expected thunder came: "Who ever goes barefoot?" Tianci calmly faced the battle, pretending not to hear. "I'm talking to you! Put them on!" "I don't want to!" Mother's face turned white with anger: "Fine, fine! Then don't you eat either!" "First steal a bun to fill my stomach!" Tianci knew he would fail. No, he didn't have enough experience! He probably couldn't make it as a man.
In the end, he put his socks back on. Nanny Ji pleaded for him, and he confessed, so he could eat. His stomach was full but tasteless; no help for it. Mother was indeed not to be trifled with, and his own stomach didn't back him up. Failure!
He had to explore the courtyard alone. Inside the main gate was Sihu's room, which he often visited, especially when Mother took her nap or was out. Adjoining this room were three storage rooms, always locked. Once Sihu picked him up and let him peek through a torn window paper-the contents were complex and mysterious. It was Old Niu's repository of business history: signboards, leftover goods, account poles-all resting there. Tianci was a little afraid of those three rooms, but also wanted to go in and find some toys-only he couldn't get in. Opposite these storage rooms was a small screen gate; through it was the three-sided courtyard. In front of the north rooms were two crabapple trees, which sometimes provided playthings. Once, two small green crabapples fell from the tree, and he played with them for a full three hours. Turning past the corner between the north and east rooms, there was a small yard. This corner, in Tianci's view, was a strategic military point: water carriers, coal deliverers, Nanny Ji... all had to pass through. He often thought of hiding beside the wall and shouting "Boo!" to give them a fright. But he had shouted at Nanny Ji once, and she dropped a teacup. So he could only "think" about it. The small yard had three rooms: one for Nanny Ji, one for the kitchen, and one for coal-according to his way of describing.
He spent all day moving around this little world. Though he could occasionally discover new things, there was no one to share them with. When necessary, he had to pretend to be two or three people, running from east to west and west to east to simulate the bustle of life. When he got tired, he sat on the steps, gazing at the sky or the ground, and only thought: "No one to play with you, Fuguan!"