Explore Chapter 9 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.
Old Li woke up very early and dared not go back to sleep. He got up and washed his face with cold water. The chill cut to the bone, but his head felt somewhat lighter. He managed to get dressed and went out onto the street. The street was chilly and quiet. A few pedestrians were hunched over, hands tucked in, their noses puffing warm breath as they walked briskly. Where to go? Just wander aimlessly. He didn't want to think about anything-Elder Brother Zhang, Little Zhao, Wu Taiji-none were worth a thought. Better to just stroll, to let his feet lead him. A few wispy clouds, the colour of rouge petals, stretched across the eastern sky, hinting at a certain poetic sentiment... But what was 'poetic sentiment', anyway? Ah, he had reached Danpailou. A small milk shop had already hung out its sign, and a faint, dim sunlight slanted along the eaves. He went in, had a bowl of milk and half a pastry, but his stomach began to ache. After walking a few more steps, he decided to head straight for the yamen. Going early would show Little Zhao that he wasn't afraid of him. Why hadn't he punished him yesterday? After taking a long detour, his legs were already a bit sore, and he arrived at that monstrous yamen.
The office stove hadn't been lit yet. Sitting down to wait, Old Li wasn't one to shout for Zhang or Li on a whim. Fortunately, the clerks weren't shouting, and the office attendants hadn't come either, so he could sit quietly alone for a while.
He sat for a long time, and not even a ghost showed up. Suddenly, the attendants bustled about as if they had seen a monster-the director had arrived. "Is anyone here? Anyone?" the director shouted repeatedly.
Old Li went to the director's office. The director didn't seem to recognize him, even though Old Li had been under him for nearly two years. The director had an extremely urgent official matter that needed to be handled immediately, as he was taking it to Tianjin himself. Old Li, very familiar with such documents, set to work at a deliberate, unhurried pace. The director drank tea, coughed, wiped his face in the room, appearing very busy, while in truth being anything but. The director's face was like a bloated silver dollar-smooth and flat, with two small bean-like eyes. He had an enormous belly and short little legs, so it seemed most fitting for him to roll along.
Old Li finished the document and handed it to the director. After reading it, the director scrutinized Old Li with his bean-like eyes as if examining a banknote. "Mr. Li, why did you come so early?" Old Li naturally felt embarrassed to say he had quarreled at home, and couldn't think of anything else to say, so his palms sweated. The attendants, who usually treated Old Li as coldly as the director did, now saw Clerk Li handling official business in the presence of the director and immediately increased their respect severalfold. An older attendant answered on Old Li's behalf: "Clerk Li is here very early every single day, that's right!"
The director rolled his small eyes and nodded. "Alright, Mr. Li, tell the secretary-general that I'm going to Tianjin. If there's anything urgent, just call; he knows my location." After speaking, the director's belly gave a rumble, and the attendants knew he was about to roll away, scrambling to rush out. Outside the yamen, a car honked, adding a bit of momentum to the chilly morning. The director rolled out, climbed into the car, and-whoosh-a cloud of dust temporarily shrouded the quiet street in a flying sandstorm.
Little Zhao had prepared to broadcast the news of Mrs. Li's embarrassment, having drafted a script on the way and adding enough embellishments to make his colleagues laugh until their nostrils pointed skyward. Little did he know, the attendants had also prepared a broadcast: how the director had arrived with the stars still out, and how Clerk Li had single-handedly handled a monumental official matter, and how the director and Clerk Li had talked for a long, long time, with the director rolling his bean-like eyes as he spoke-everyone knew that when the director's eyes rolled like that, it was an auspicious sign of the highest order. Little Zhao had just entered the yamen, and before he could even utter his story, he received the good news about Old Li. He immediately changed his attitude and ran to the section to find Old Li. "I say, Old Li, did the director really come with the stars?"
"Just a bit early, that's all." Old Li was unwilling to lie, but Little Zhao didn't quite believe him and felt that Old Li's demeanor was somewhat arrogant.
"Me? I was here before the director took office; when he came, for some reason he didn't dismiss me."
"Oh!" Little Zhao thought to himself, "Is there such a cheap thing in the world? Just the director's wife alone has over three hundred people under her, so why would she keep you for no reason, without any 'special connection'? This Old Li has something up his sleeve, despite his foolish appearance." Then to Old Li: "I say, Old Li, didn't the director promise you any position?"
"What's so great about handling one official matter?" Old Li was very annoyed with Little Zhao, but he couldn't help answering him.
"How could she? She'd had her eyes opened, she was so delighted she couldn't stop grinning." Old Li was surprised at himself for being able to say such elegant words.
Little Zhao's heart beat even faster: Old Li was not only not foolish, but indeed quite formidable. Moreover, if he had a connection with the director, I'd either have to find a way to fix him, or else I'd have to play the dog to him a little. Let me try playing the dog first and see. "Old Li, tonight I'm returning the favor, and you must bring sister-in-law. I'll invite several ladies; whoever talks nonsense is a dog!"
Old Li disliked hosting guests and even more disliked being invited. However, to spite Little Zhao, he immediately agreed. He thought to himself, "Kid, if you dare make trouble again, I'll skin you alive!" When he went home and told his wife, she immediately widened her eyes. She had been prepared for Old Li to come back and have a big fight with her, because although she indeed hadn't eaten Western food, embarrassment was still embarrassment. Her husband had left early in the morning. When he returned, he didn't quarrel with her, so she felt somewhat relieved, though bewildered. Upon hearing that there was another invitation, and from Little Zhao no less, tears welled up in her eyes-this must be her husband's way of punishing her, to make her lose face again, and then combine it all for one final blow-up.
Old Li wasn't accustomed to detailed explanations; his words always came out bluntly, even though he didn't mean to argue. Thus, they reached an impasse.
"I can't go again. It's the same group of people. Didn't we lose enough face last night? What, are we going to add a bit more?" Mrs. Li's face was pale with anger.
"Precisely because of that, we must go, to show them whether their dirty tricks can really wipe anyone's nose clean!"
Old Li knew a row was inevitable. But what was the use? Moreover, was it worth spiting Little Zhao? What would come of winning this bout? Forget it, whether she goes or not, I don't care! Just as he was thinking this, little Ying spoke up:
At five, Old Li returned, thinking to himself that his wife must be with disheveled hair, legs akimbo, and hands covered in flour crumbs. Before he even reached the gate, he saw Ying, Ling, and Old Mrs. Ma all standing at the entrance. The two children were already dressed up.
"Don't say that. In these times, working in a yamen, can one avoid social engagements? My son-" the old lady didn't continue, sighing.
Her hair was combed particularly sleek, her lips were touched with rouge, her powder was evenly and moistly applied, and her eyebrows were drawn long. Taken together, these touches subtracted a good two years from the age her countryside upbringing had etched upon her. The scent of hair oil was also somewhat unfamiliar to Old Li.
Little Zhao had invited them to the Tongheju Restaurant. They didn't need to take a car; it was only a few steps away. But even in those few steps, Ying got dust all over his feet, kicking a small piece of broken tile as he went. After being scolded by his dad, he stopped kicking it and secretly picked up the tile, hiding it in his pocket.