Explore Chapter 4 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.
How Old Li managed, in one fell swoop, to transport his wife, his two children, their bedding rolls, diaper pads, four wicker baskets, seven cloth bundles of various sizes, two umbrellas, a basket of home-pickled mustard roots, and half a jar of fresh millet remains an unfathomable mystery to this day. It seemed he had resolved to move his family lock, stock, and barrel, bringing along every last trinket his wife couldn't bear to part with. Ordinarily, after purchasing three small items, he'd already be fretting over the possibility of losing one.
He had taken five days' leave, and on the third day, he broke camp from the countryside, aiming to have a full day in Beiping to arrange everything without needing to ask for more time off.
He had the tables and chairs moved over from Elder Brother Zhang's place. Elder Brother Zhang couldn't come until after four, so Second Uncle Ding volunteered to help. Second Uncle Ding's assistance was strictly limited to watching the children-which meant blocking the way, causing trouble, and adding to the chaos. When Old Li tried to place a table in the east room, Second Uncle Ding and the two children were playing right in the most suitable spot for it. Old Li scratched his head and headed for the west room, only for Second Uncle Ding to promptly lead his two little lieutenants in pursuit. Old Li searched high and low for a hammer but couldn't find it anywhere; Second Uncle Ding had it.
After a day of frantic activity, the two umbrellas still lay discarded in the yard. Millet was scattered across the ground. All four wicker baskets were opened, their contents displayed in an utterly novel arrangement. Not a single item had found a proper place, and their existence was highly precarious. Old Li stepped on and crushed a needle box. Mrs. Li tripped over the chopping block twice, flattening countless crushable objects, all to the enthusiastic applause of Second Uncle Ding and the children.
It wasn't yet four o'clock when Elder Brother Zhang arrived. With a slight, knowing lift of his left eyelid, most of the items from the four baskets found their rightful places. A few gestures left and right with his hand, and the floor was clear of clutter, even the spilled millet returned to its jar.
Everything was arranged, but there were no photographs or couplets. Elder Brother Zhang felt a pang of disappointment in Old Li. Looking further, he saw the newly pasted window paper had been poked through by Second Uncle Ding. No wonder Elder Brother Zhang looked down on them.
Old Li glanced at the wall and only then noticed the stark, unappealing contrast between the black beams and white plaster. 'We could repaper it,' he suggested.
'How long do you plan to stay here? Repaper for the landlord's benefit? Besides, repapering the walls means doing the ceiling too. You can't have four white walls with a patch of black plaster hanging above. What's more, repapering would turn the whole place upside down again, and everything would have to be moved.' Elder Brother Zhang lit his pipe.
Only after he left did Old Li remember he hadn't offered him a meal. Where was the food, anyway? But taking a step back, shouldn't he at least have brewed a pot of tea? He looked at the main room. On the square table sat a teapot and six cups on a porcelain tray, as if expressly waiting for someone to make tea. But who was supposed to brew it? If this were Elder Brother Zhang's home, who would be expected to serve tea to guests? Old Li's brows knitted together.
As he saw his guest out, Old Li thought to himself, 'Adults are less sensible than children.' Then it struck him, 'What's the point of all these empty formalities anyway?' With this thought, he forgot all about Second Uncle Ding. Only after the guest was long gone did he remember, 'Oh! Where's Second Uncle Ding?'
Mrs. Li was not unattractive. Her face was quite clean, though a little stiff. Her features were regular, but her mouth often stayed slightly ajar. Her breathing carried a faint, wheezy sound. With large cheekbones and a broad frame, her padded robe hung a bit too loose, making her appear sluggish. Her bound feet that have been unbound were stuffed with cotton at the front and back. When she walked, only her arms seemed to swing; her body scarcely moved forward. Sometimes she would suddenly take half a step backward, probably trying to find the cotton padding with her heels. Seated, she was indeed presentable. She had newly learned to bow: back ramrod straight, hands pressed against her sides, then a sudden, whole-body lurch forward-utterly solemn, yet faintly perilous!
The room was roughly arranged. Leaning on the back of a chair, she took a sweeping glance. Not bad, just rather empty. But this emptiness had its own delightful quality. All this was hers. After her husband, she was the master here. No in-laws to oversee her, no sisters-in-law to watch her every move. And besides, this was Beiping. Beiping might not be 'better' than the countryside, but it was certainly 'higher'!
Old Li's brows were still knitted. He glanced at her, wanting to say, 'Couldn't you have brewed some tea?' But he restrained himself and changed it to, 'Pour some tea!' Speaking to her, even 'brew' had to become 'pour.' 'I clean forgot, I truly did!' Mrs. Li laughed, revealing all her teeth. 'Where are the tea leaves?' This question seemed directed at the whole of Beiping, her voice exceedingly loud. 'Keep your voice down!' Old Li said, swallowing the words, 'This isn't the countryside where words spoken indoors carry to the fields.'
As if to atone for the sin of her loud voice, she actually managed to find the tea leaves. 'Still forgot-there's no water.' In her triumph at finding the leaves, she committed the sin of loud speech once more. 'You keep your voice down,' Old Li said through gritted teeth, his brows furrowed like a small hill.
Clutching the teapot, she made a half-circle around the room, her steps, hampered by the cotton in her shoes, preventing a full revolution. 'I'll go borrow a kettle of boiling water from the neighbors.' He shook his head. 'Out of the question!' He still had to tell her, 'It's not like the countryside here; you can't just go using other people's things.'
The mother picked up the child, her eyes reddening. In the countryside, the child would be asleep by now. But here, in this wretched Beiping! This wasn't allowed, that was forbidden. The child still hadn't eaten at this late hour. The room was empty-no long kang against the wall, no chests, no water. Everything seemed inconvenient, nothing was within easy reach. Her husband was frowning. A hundred Beipings couldn't compare to the countryside.
Old Li looked at the two children, and the hill on his brow melted away. 'Dad will buy you something to eat!' Then he placed the little fist in his own palm. 'Here, it's incredibly convenient. I can buy everything in a jiffy, buy-' He glanced at his wife. 'Buy what?'
His wife didn't speak, but her face said it for her: 'I know what your precious Beiping has to offer!' 'Dad, buy some peanuts, and some big haitang fruits.' 'Dad, Ling eat peanuts,' Little Niu said.
Old Li smiled, wanting to answer them but finding no words. He threw on his overcoat and went out into the street.
The street was full of things, but Old Li couldn't decide what to buy. To the west was an old bookstall. The elderly bookseller was packing "La Dame aux Camélias," "The Travels of Lao Can," and a first edition of "Science Lecture Notes" from the 32nd year of Guangxu into his baskets. Old Li took a glance, made some idle remark, and walked off. After a few steps, he looked back at the bookseller-busy packing up, seemingly oblivious to Old Li's existence. Old Li then noticed the sesame paste pancakes next to the mutton shop. Freshly baked, the golden-brown sesame seeds looked like the bellies of well-fed mosquitoes. He was quite tempted to buy a few. Beside him, an old lady was finalizing the price for a tin kettle. Old Li followed suit and bought two. After she left, he dared to ask the price of a foreign stove-since Elder Brother Zhang was a staunch advocate for them-and settled on one. While inquiring about the price, he had already decided in his heart-he was definitely paying too much. After the purchase, he decided again that when telling Elder Brother Zhang, he would knock two dollars off the price. Then he couldn't call it expensive, could he? He felt rather pleased. It was the first foreign stove he'd ever bought in his life; unlikely he'd buy a second one in his lifetime, so what did it matter if it was a bit pricey? He arranged for the stove and iron pipe to be delivered first thing the next morning. Then, carrying the kettles, he stood there utterly at a loss, not knowing where to go next!
Though married for several years, his wife had remained merely her parents' daughter-in-law, and the children merely their grandmother's grandchildren. Old Li seemed scarcely aware he was a husband and father. Now, if he didn't see to the children's food, there truly was no one else who would. Old Li found it all very strange! The Xisi Pailou under the streetlights seemed like a dream.
For children, of course, he needed something soft and easily digestible. Old Li gripped the handle of the iron kettle tightly, as if it might offer counsel. Milk powder substitute? They'd never had it. Before him was a dried fruit shop. Don't forget the peanuts! He bought a catty of shelled peanuts. A whole catty-he'd thought it might lend a bit of dignity to his purchase. Hmph, who knew it would cost only fifteen cents! He couldn't very well leave after spending a mere fifteen cents in a shop ablaze with electric lights! He added two jars of candied haitang fruit. He started back. At the mouth of the alley, he felt a twinge of unease-peanuts and candied fruit probably didn't quite constitute a proper dinner. He turned back, looked at the oil-and-salt shop, the pork butcher's, but felt too sheepish to go in. Yet in the long run, he'd have to enter such places eventually, which made it seem all the more wrong to do so today. He told himself, 'Once you go in there, you become Elder Brother Zhang number two!' But if he didn't go in, what kind of number two was he then? He saw the pancakes again and bought twenty. Steamed buns with mutton and cabbage filling had just come out of the steamer, glowing white like porcelain under the lights, yet steaming hot. He bought a whole steamer's worth. The pancake seller seemed aptly surnamed 'Harmonious' and named 'Amicable.' Old Li was so delighted his hands trembled slightly. The world hadn't come to an end after all! He proffered a dollar bill, half-afraid the seller would find giving change a bother. Not at all-the man politely returned a mix of copper coins and paper notes, even wrapped them in paper, saying, 'A bit of both, makes it easy to spend.' Old Li's heart grew warmer than the freshly steamed buns: here was domestic joy, and it wasn't confined to the home! The family was a wireless broadcasting station of happiness, transmitting all joyful music and news, from Beiping all the way to South America! No wonder Elder Brother Zhang was always so cheerful.
Ling, almost asleep in her mother's arms, caught the scent of the pancakes and opened her eyes wide-two black pupils spinning like chess pieces on two white ones. Ying-the boy-acted as if the scent of the pancakes hadn't even reached his nose before one had already vanished into his stomach. Then, a bite of pancake, a bite of bun, a bite of peanuts, he seemed to be racing several little hungry tigers.
Ling's eyes resembled her mother's; Ying's eyes were like his father's. Both children's noses, it was said, took after their grandmother's. Ling had no striking features, relying entirely on her plump little face to win affection-a small, long face with unusually chubby cheeks, like a talking gourd. With short legs and a big belly, she didn't so much walk as sway forward using the flesh of her face and belly. Her tiny mouth, like a flower bud, always seemed moist. Fearless, she would tilt her gourd-like face up and blink at people.
Ying was a rough-and-tumble lad. His big eyes were like his father's, and he had the same headlong manner. His neck was as dark as his face. He was sturdy but didn't look fat, like a plump rooster not yet fully feathered-solid in the body but with seemingly slender arms and legs. His cotton trousers seemed out of date the moment they were made, ending a good deal above his ankles. But Ying didn't care a whit. The tighter the pants, the more vigorously he bounced, with each jump threatening to reveal everything.
Old Li adored this dark little fellow. 'Ying, a contest! Let's see who can finish one in three bites! Look, one bite makes a crescent moon, two bites make a silver ingot, three bites-and it's gone!' Ying's dark face flushed completely purple with effort, while Old Li nearly choked himself green.
He shouldn't be encouraging the children to wolf down their food, Old Li thought as he struggled to catch his breath, remembering something about child education. He also remembered there was no water. He took a sip of the syrup from the candied haitang fruit. That didn't work; in his desperation he kept throwing his head back. In a boarding house, you just had to call for the attendant, and tea was tea, water was water. Moving the family here certainly brought a lot more trouble!
Just at that moment, the old lady from the west room called from outside the window, 'Sir, you've no water, have you? Here's a kettle of boiling water for you.'
Old Li felt a surge of gratitude but couldn't find the ready words. 'Oh, oh, madam, oh-' He took the boiling water and poured it into the teapot. As he did, he tried to think of something to say. Before he could settle on anything, the old lady spoke again: 'Just leave the kettle, you can return it tomorrow morning. Are you going out again? I'm about to close the street gate. I'm used to early nights; once it's dark, I want to lie down. Tomorrow, tell the water carrier to bring you a load. Have you got a water vat? Six coppers a load, or by the bucketful. A monthly subscription is fine too; it's sweet water.'
'The children really aren't naughty at all, such well-behaved little dears!' The old lady seemed to gain energy as bedtime approached. 'How old is the older one? Don't let them go out by themselves; the streets are full of carts and horses. And those automobiles are so domineering, they'd run you right over! Even I get dizzy looking at them, let alone children! Haven't you lit the stove yet? Bundle them up warmly; it's just turned winter, and the weather is treacherous, hot one minute, cold the next. Dressing more is safer. Do you have thick padded jackets? If there's any sewing you can't manage, bring it to me; I can do it for them. Even with my spectacles on and being a bit clumsy, I can still manage a few stitches. After all, children don't need fancy clothes. See you tomorrow. Be careful going to the toilet; don't trip on any bricks or tiles. Take a light with you. See you tomorrow.'
Yet he felt life was much more fulfilling now. In a boarding house, no old lady would come calling. That was commerce; this was human connection. He drank a bowl of tea, yawned, ate a piece of haitang fruit-utterly sweet and satisfying! He wanted to tell Ying a story but couldn't think of one. His back ached a little. Yes, an aching back-because he had fulfilled his responsibilities, exerted his strength. Take what had just happened: a pancake in his right hand, a bun in his left, his overcoat pocket stuffed with peanuts, the iron kettle dangling from his middle finger. After all, he had a family! In a boarding house at this hour, he'd have finished his egg-fried rice and would either be reading the paper or sitting alone picking his teeth. His wife was passable enough, though her bow still resembled a paper doll tipping forward-he glanced at his wife.
Ling clutched half a pancake in her little hand, her plump little gourd of a body leaning against her mother. Her eyes were closed but occasionally opened a slit. Her mother's mouth still moved in chewing, her face expressionless as she held the child, gently swaying from side to side, her eyes fixed on the candle flame.