Explore Chapter 8 of "Divorce" with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
Little Zhao was back! Old Li knew his sentencing was imminent, yet felt a strange relief. "Let's see what Little Zhao will do, and watch the wife too," he thought to himself. Life was shrouded in a thin mist, not entirely dark, nor fully bright, leaving one unable to weep or laugh. It needed some sunlight; if not that, then a storm to blow this fog away. "Let's see what Little Zhao has in store!"
Little Zhao was the bureau director's wife's man, yet he did not wholly guard the family's secrets for the director. Whatever could be told, he shared snippets with his colleagues to curry their envy and respect. Even if word got back to the director, Little Zhao was unafraid. Not only the director's post, but his very life was in the hands of his wife. As the wife's man, Little Zhao's so-called office work was managing her private affairs, so he had no fear! Upon his return, everyone in the bureau instantly pricked up their ears, mouths ready to gape, waiting to hear the unheard-of and sigh softly. Truth be told, the director's wife's private matters were often mysteriously linked to official business, so sometimes political tidbits could be gleaned from Little Zhao's mouth. In the two days after his return, Little Zhao was besieged by this eager anticipation and probing. Though he had flashed Old Li a smile and tilted his head, he hadn't found the time for a formal reckoning. Old Li waited, like someone bracing for thunder after a great flash of lightning.
Should he warn the wife first? Old Li wondered. Correct her bowing posture? Teach her a few proper things to say? He seemed to lack the energy to instruct a grown child over thirty. Besides, Little Zhao and all the other colleagues were trivial; why bother with them? Let them do as they pleased; it was meaningless! He watched his wife cook, soothe the children, wash clothes, and pitied her. He himself was lonely. The busier she became, the lonelier he felt. He wanted to help her but couldn't muster the spirit. Was Little Zhao still plotting to make a fool of her? She was pitiful! Yet the more pitiful she seemed, the less lovable she became; the cruelty of the human heart was beyond remedy. He could only play with the children. They taught him many strangely amusing games. But once darkness fell, the children slept. Besides reading, he had nothing else to do. Hum a few lines of Peking opera? He couldn't. Read her a passage from a novel? He'd considered it for days but never dared speak up, afraid of her uncomprehending, passionless, merely compliant "All right."
It was a new novel, beginning with a description of a city. Old Li read five or six pages. She listened intently, yet Old Li knew she did not understand. She did not laugh at the funny parts. Where Old Li read with emphasis, she showed no reaction. Hands on her knees, she stared blankly at the lamp as if some phantom hovered over it. Old Li suddenly stopped reading. She neither asked why nor begged him to continue. After a dazed moment, she exclaimed, "Oh! Little Ying's pants still need mending!" and left to find Ying's trousers. Old Li was left stunned.
In the west room, Old Mrs. Ma and her daughter-in-law were chattering away. Old Li thought to himself, I'm worse off than her-a discarded wife at least has a confidante in her mother-in-law to chat with for a while! Go to the west room? How could he face that? This society offered only stifling prohibitions, not a shred of joy or freedom! He might as well go to sleep, or head to Sipailou for a bath? Going out seemed a good idea. "I'm going for a bath." He threw on his overcoat.
Old Li sat down on a chair without even removing his overcoat, seemingly compelled to ponder something. "She must be miserable too! She has a mother-in-law, but can she offer comfort? No! Living together doesn't guarantee mutual understanding!" He glanced at his wife, as if seeking solid evidence for his thoughts. "Even husband and wife cannot-much less mother-in-law and daughter-in-law?" He did not wish to think further; it was useless! How wonderful it would be to drink, shed tears, and have a heart-to-heart with a close friend! But who was a close friend? No one. Even if there were one, and they talked freely, the result would still be useless, ending in sleep.
A night of fierce wind rattled doors and windows, even the gable walls seemed to tremble. The paper ceiling fluttered noisily; gusts of cold air seeped through the door cracks. Nothing could be heard clearly, for everything roared. The wind swallowed all sounds, then spat them out anew, turning everything into startling, dreadful shrieks. A swish-a burst of sand. A whoosh-a flock of laughing ghosts flying through the air. A clatter and clang-everything movable quaked. A howl-howl-howl-the whole world seemed about to flee. People dared not make a sound; dogs ceased their barking. An abrupt silence fell. A small matchbox rolled in the courtyard, perhaps a paper toy of the children's. Then it came again, a whoosh and a roar-the roof, who knew when, had flown off to who knew where. Old Li could not sleep. During a lull, he listened to the children; their breathing was even in sleep. They probably wouldn't wake even if blown to the southern seas. The wife was already snoring. Old Li alone listened to this senseless, vexing wind. Sticking his head out, the cold air pricked his temples like little awls. He hastily drew back, turned over, and endured; turned again, to no avail. The wind, he fancied, felt immensely proud of itself, romantic. Only you-Old Li addressed himself-only you dare not be romantic. A petty clerk, a country bumpkin, obediently earning your keep in the fog. The most trivial and rotten things in society, you must embrace them like fragrant flowers, all for that rice bowl! Let alone smashing this stinking, fog-filled society. Neither daring to be romantic nor deigning to engage in petty matters. Having to go through the motions yet feeling deeply dissatisfied. What was life for? What role were you playing? Lying in bed, Old Li felt he wasn't even as good as a grain of sand; sand could make a sound, could leap when met by wind. Himself? Head buried under the quilt. Tomorrow, when the wind died down, it would be very cold. Off to the yamen, handling official business-the same old routine! He couldn't even conjure a romantic, exciting dream. He had to apologize in all directions. What exactly was he here for? Sleep. He only hoped the dawn would not come again.
Mr. Qiu and the others instantly imagined smelling the dishes and surrounded Old Li. The upright Wu Taiji made a fluid gesture of the hands and said, "Where shall we eat?"
Old Li thought for a moment. "Tongheju Restaurant." He thought to himself, "Using Tongheju to hold them off is far better than having the wife humiliated!"
Little Zhao's eyes, already small, narrowed into slits. "However, we want to see the wife! Sneaking your family here without reporting to Master Zhao-think about that!"
Old Li looked at Wu Taiji and asked, "How about Tongheju Restaurant?" as if Tongheju were his anchor at that moment.
Wu Taiji was agreeable to anything, as long as it was a free meal; the venue didn't matter. But Little Zhao wouldn't have it. "Who hasn't eaten at Tongheju! Without my approval, no one even gets to think of eating at Dawanzhu!" Wu Taiji swallowed hard. Mr. Qiu-the very symbol of melancholy-whispered a couple of words to Little Zhao. Little Zhao nodded like a lamb-shaped lantern, then said to Old Li, "Here's the deal: treat us to Huatai Grand Restaurant! Tomorrow at six. After eating, we'll all pay our respects to sister-in-law. Proper or not? Does it grant us face or not?"
"Zhang Shun-call Huatai to reserve a table. How many?" Little Zhao counted heads. "And Elder Brother Zhang... say about six or seven. Tomorrow evening at six. Mention my name. If they don't give us a room, I'll beat those thieving rabbits to death!" After instructing Zhang Shun, he patted Old Li's shoulder. "See you tomorrow. I still have to go to the director's house!" Then to everyone: "Tomorrow evening at six, no separate invitations!" He thought for a moment, seemingly with nothing left to worry about. "Zhang Shun, find Old Wang. Take me to the director's house!"
"I didn't expect Little Zhao to let me off so lightly!" Old Li secretly rejoiced. "He probably acts according to the person. Since I usually don't provoke him, how could he have the heart to drive me to the wall!"
Wu Taiji arrived at half past six. Mr. Wu was as upright as ever: "I invited Mr. Sun on your behalf; he'll be here shortly. I came too early; a military man, one not versed in the protocols of officialdom. Waiter, bring Paotai cigarettes. Back in the army, it was Paotai cigarettes and champagne; now-" Wu Taiji sat straight-backed, lost in reminiscence of past glories. As he mused, he gestured with both hands in two fist forms, as if Tai Chi were a symbol of refinement, and he, having abandoned martial for civil pursuits, striking these poses seemed qualification enough to be an examiner for the civil service exams.
A car pulled up outside. Soon, Little Zhao entered, holding Ling, followed by Mrs. Li and Ying. Ling, on the verge of tears from fright, saw her father and found her anchor. She pinched Little Zhao's nose.
She was at a loss, even forgetting to bow, her mouth agape. One hand pulled Ying, the other made a slight gesture of greeting below her chest. Little Zhao's laughter was internal, only a hint showing at the corners of his eyebrows, exceedingly pleased with himself.
She did not take it. Ying instinctively took it instead. Ling came over to grab it too; Ying wouldn't give it up, and Ling was about to cry. Smack! Mrs. Li gave Ying a slap on the back of the head. Ying, bewildered, only felt her head grow hot but dared not cry. Everyone wanted to laugh but deliberately held back. Mrs. Li's new scarf was still wrapped tightly around her; she still wore that unhemmed, oversized blue padded robe. She looked at everyone, then at Old Li, utterly baffled.
Mrs. Li dared to sit only after seeing others do so. Little Zhao, still behind her, pulled her chair back, deliberately yanking it far out. Caught off guard, Mrs. Li nearly slipped off. All eyes, except Elder Brother Zhang's, were glued to her.
"Oh, there are pictures too! Mom, can Ling play with it?" She tucked the menu into her little pocket. Little Zhao found this exceedingly amusing. "Open the brandy!" When the wine arrived, he first filled a glass for Mrs. Li. Mrs. Li repeatedly declined, saying she wouldn't drink, yet she stood up, cupping the glass with her hand.
Seeing the large tray being taken away, Ling got off her chair and chased after it, tripping and falling. Her mother hurried over, slapping the floor while saying, "Bad floor, bad! Why trip our little Ling?" Knowing the floor deserved a beating and having indeed witnessed it, Ling did not cry aloud, only shed a few tears.
After downing two glasses, Mr. Wu's words flowed like a river. He recounted to Mrs. Li all his past military glory and his current achievements in practicing Tai Chi. Her face flushed and paled alternately; she did not know what to say. Fortunately, Elder Brother Zhang asked her a few questions about the house and installing a foreign stove, allowing her to manage appropriate replies. Mr. Sun also wanted to show amiability, addressing her in what he considered to be Mandarin. She thought Mr. Sun was deliberately speaking a foreign language to her, misunderstood him several times, flushed repeatedly, and could not answer a single sentence. Mr. Sun secretly rejoiced, thinking Mrs. Li did not understand Mandarin.
Wu Taiji felt Elder Brother Zhang was showing him respect. "Old Wu is a military man, Sister-in-law Li. A bottle or two is nothing." He downed a glass in one gulp, exhaled loudly, performed the 'Embracing the Tiger' posture, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Still not satisfied, he said, "Old Li, since I drank that glass for Mrs. Li, you and I should have one together. Fair or not? Cheers!" Without waiting for Old Li's response, he downed another in one gulp and immediately called out, "More wine!"
How he got home, Old Li did not know; the brandy had sealed his eyes. The cool breeze along the way sobered him. He saw home and also saw Elder Brother Zhang. The sight of Elder Brother Zhang made his anger surge with the liquor. But he absolutely could not vent at Elder Brother Zhang. Elder Brother Zhang would not understand him-no one could. Anger turned to heartbreak. Tears accumulated over years awaited the general mobilization order. He burst into loud, wrenching sobs. Ying and Ling were scared and at a loss, both hiding by their mother's side. Their mother had not eaten her fill and had been humiliated; seeing her husband cry, she could not help but shed tears too.
Elder Brother Zhang let Old Li cry and went over to console Mrs. Li. "Don't take it to heart, Elder Sister. This is nothing. That bunch specializes in mischief; there's nothing serious about them. Next time you encounter them, I tell you, Elder Sister, regardless of the consequences, match them word for word, eye for eye. Don't spare them an inch, and they're sure to back off. The more you fear them, the more triumphant they become."
"Yes, I know Second Uncle Ding. Whatever Little Zhao said, Second Uncle Ding nodded along. So why should I be suspicious? He also spoke very convincingly. He said your younger brother had invited lady guests and wanted me to accompany them. I thought to myself, if I didn't go, wouldn't it displease your younger brother? I even played it safe by going to the west room to ask Old Mrs. Ma. The old lady also knows Second Uncle Ding and said, 'Just go.' But when I got there and saw no lady guests, I was stunned. I've never seen such wicked people before, never!"
Old Li did not even let out a heavy breath. It was inappropriate to say anything; Elder Brother Zhang would not understand.
At this moment, Old Mrs. Ma entered. After Mrs. Li left, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law had grown uneasy again and had been talking about it all evening. When they returned and Old Li started crying, the old lady was utterly baffled. She dared approach only after Old Li fell silent. "Mr. Zhang, what happened?"
"Not yet. After the mother and children left, I grew uneasy again, worried and anxious all evening."
Old Mrs. Ma exchanged a few words with Mrs. Li and returned to the west room. Mrs. Li, holding Ling, went to bed to weep.
Old Li sat by the fire, drank a large pot of boiled water, yet still felt thirsty. His head felt tight; he uttered not a word, his heart burning with smoldering rage. He had no intention of quarreling with Mrs. Li, though she had been disgraced. He hated himself. Why treat Little Zhao and the others to a meal? Just to show goodwill? No, to avoid his wife's humiliation. Yet in the end, she was humiliated, and at great expense. Why fear his wife's humiliation? Stand firm against Little Zhao-no treat, no treat! What could Little Zhao do to him? His wife was just as she was, just as she was! Why try to hide and avoid? He himself was the very embodiment of decadent societal norms, not daring to confront trivial nonsense and mischief head-on. He wasn't even a proper person; he lacked human spirit! Why not pick up a glass and splash it in Little Zhao's face! Or pinch Little Zhao's nose and force vinegar down his throat! All he could do was stew in silent rage, not daring to look his wife in the eye. He always thought himself a new man with ideals, but in truth, he was a thorough coward. He did not dare say a word of reproach to those petty clerks and could not help but serve as their amusement.
Old Li hated Little Zhao less deeply than he hated Elder Brother Zhang. Towards Little Zhao, he only regretted not having made him suffer a bit or taught him a lesson on the spot. Towards Elder Brother Zhang, he was helpless. In this farce, the first victor was Little Zhao, the second was Elder Brother Zhang. See how meticulous and smooth Elder Brother Zhang was, everywhere stepping in to rescue Mrs. Li, yet in fact everywhere helping Little Zhao complete the joke. Why didn't Elder Brother Zhang directly stop Little Zhao? Or on the spot encourage him or his wife to confront Little Zhao, word for word, eye for eye? Elder Brother Zhang would not dare do that! He admitted that Little Zhao's actions were justified, even if not entirely measured. He admitted that Mrs. Li deserved to be teased, just not too harshly. The husband of that Second Younger Sister, who used connections to pass the medical exam and then used more connections to avoid the charge of malpractice-that was Elder Brother Zhang's way. Letting Little Zhao tease Ying's mother while intervening with seemingly sage methods to mediate, ensuring she endured endless ridicule-that was his way. He was the one who told Old Li to bring his family here.
Elder Brother Zhang dared not offend anyone. But Old Li-he called to himself-what about you? You are carved from the same mold. You always think yourself superior to Elder Brother Zhang, but in truth, you are even more useless. If someone teased Sister-in-law Zhang, Elder Brother Zhang might have some inoffensive way to rescue her. But you, Old Li? You have no method at all. What is Little Zhao? Yet you dare not offend him. Little Zhao acts out moving pictures for this dog-dung-like society, and you obediently play your role as his actor. And still you talk of ideals, revolution, overthrowing trivial social conventions! Ha! Ha!
The wife, naturally, was not refined. Why bring her here? Then, who brought her? He dared not be romantic like Old Mrs. Ma's son; he did not even dare to think that way. He would spend his whole life eating society's shit. Since having brought her, why hide and avoid? Why was that padded robe unsuitable for Dong'an Market? Why couldn't she face Little Zhao?