Explore Chapter 1 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.
Elder Brother Zhang was everyone's elder brother. You might even think his own father had to address him as such; he embodied the elder brother role to perfection.
The nearsighted man would easily overlook the pockmarks, and Miss Pockmark, naturally, would not urge her husband to get glasses. They would promptly proceed to exchange photographs-if necessary-with only success permitted, failure strictly forbidden!
Naturally, Elder Brother Zhang's scales were not so simplistic. Age, looks, family background, temperament, and even the eight characters of one's birth had to be meticulously weighed. How could a lifelong commitment be treated carelessly?
Therefore, whenever relatives or friends married without Elder Brother Zhang as the matchmaker, he would only send Sister-in-law Zhang to offer congratulations. He himself would never attend the wedding-the sight pained him.
This was not out of jealousy, but rather a well-meaning conviction that such marriages, even if passable, were not first-class. On Elder Brother Zhang's scales, there was not an ounce of room for compromise or make-do.
Divorce, in Elder Brother Zhang's view, had no other cause than the inaccuracy of the matchmaker's scales. Not a single couple he had introduced had ever contemplated divorce, not even mentioned the idea. Squabbles and spats between young couples were another matter entirely. As the saying goes, one night as husband and wife builds affection for a hundred days. No fight, no love. Even with noses all scratched up and eyes blackened, divorce was still ten thousand miles away, a distant prospect indeed!
As for free marriage, well, that was just the other end of the same stick as divorce-it had never even been placed on the scales at all. For such 'joyous' occasions, not even Sister-in-law Zhang would go to offer congratulations. They would only send someone to deliver a pair of celebratory scrolls-though the wording differed from funeral elegies, it wasn't by much.
Matchmaking was creation, and eliminating divorce was art criticism. Elder Brother Zhang never stated this explicitly, but that was precisely his meaning. The inaccuracy of the matchmaker's scales was the root cause of divorce, so to turn major issues into minor ones and minor ones into nothing, one must re-evaluate everything with his scales, analyze meticulously, and then add some counterweights to balance the inequalities. Thus, clouds of discord would disperse, leaving a heap of nothingness. Families would avoid disintegration, and lawyers could only stare helplessly-Elder Brother Zhang had no friends who hung out lawyers' shingles. Only creators were qualified to criticize art, and only true matchmakers could eliminate divorce. Elder Brother Zhang often overthrew the original matchmaker and stepped in as the mediator for couples heading to court. Once reconciled, the husband and wife would deny their first introducer and regard Elder Brother Zhang as the one and only great matchmaker, forever grateful. In this way, he returned from the critic's position to the creator's throne.
Uncles and elder brothers were most suited for matchmaking. 'Elder Brother Zhang' was synonymous with 'matchmaker'. 'Elder Brother Zhang is here!' At this announcement, in any household, young girls would blush and hide in quiet corners to listen to their own heartbeats. Families without sons or daughters-except for funerals-never saw his footprints. If he visited once and did not return within ten days, at least one pillow in that house would be damp with tears. His influence manipulated people's very souls. Even households with forty- or fifty-year-old spinsters welcomed him. Even if marriage prospects were hopeless, each visit added a touch of rosy hue to their already graying lives.
Elder Brother Zhang was a learned man. From childhood, he had delved into the classics and histories, and he seemed to have read Married Love. He had to read books to prove how sound his opinions were. He had a pair of yin-yang eyes. The upper lid of his left eye was unusually long, forever imprisoning half the pupil. The right eye had no peculiarities and went about its business as usual. This left eye was an extremely fine sieve. Everything read or seen by the right eye had to be sifted through this half-closed left eye-the imprisoned half pupil gazed inward at his own heart. Thus, no matter what he read, his own views were always the most sensible. Anything that did not align with his opinions was promptly sieved away by the left eye.
This little sieve was a heaven-sent treasure. Elder Brother Zhang took pride only in his innate superiority. In all other respects, he was the embodiment of humility and amiability. Anything sifted through this sieve never went to extremes. Extremism upset life's balance and led to stumbling flat on one's face. Elder Brother Zhang disliked stumbling most of all. His clothes, hat, gloves, pipe, and walking stick were all in styles that modern people had used for over half a year, and which conservative old-timers would ponder for two or three months before daring to adopt. Like a societal camel-back bridge, Elder Brother Zhang's attire made carriages and pedestrians slow their pace at a glance, yet not come to a complete halt.
'Listen to Elder Brother Zhang, you can't go wrong!' Few among the Zhang family's relatives and friends planning joyous events failed to say this. Placing a small sedan chair inside a decorated motorcar was Elder Brother Zhang's invention. Using decorated cars for weddings was already publicly accepted as permissible. However, for a bride never to have ridden in a proper bridal sedan was, whether a major or minor point, a flaw. Moreover, having to alight from the car at the doorstep allowed all sorts of idle and improper onlookers to gawk at the bride, which was unseemly, not to mention the question of auspiciousness. Having a small sedan chair inside the car was the perfect solution-Elder Brother Zhang's idea. When the car arrived at the door, slap! Four men would carry out a sedan palanquin; the idle onlookers could only stare. Unless they were getting married themselves, they had no chance of seeing the bride's face. This was, in passing, a kind of education in propriety. There was only one incident, in summer, when the bride was spilled out of the sedan palanquin because she had fainted from the heat. So now, even in autumn, the roof of the decorated car is always equipped with two electric fans-again, Elder Brother Zhang's invention. One doesn't gain wisdom without experience!
If everyone had a satisfactory wife, the world would never see 'communism'! Elder Brother Zhang firmly believed this. That revolutionary youths settled down after marriage was a fact, and Elder Brother Zhang had ample evidence on this point. Thus, in his eyes, if an unmarried person developed a few red spots on their face, or a married person's brows were slightly furrowed, it must relate to marital matters and should be resolved immediately. Otherwise, trouble was inevitable.
Old Li's brows had been furrowed these past few days. There must be a big story here! Elder Brother Zhang advised him to first take an aspirin, then told him to swallow a pill of Qingwen Jiedu. It was no use. Old Li's brows remained knitted. Elder Brother Zhang made his diagnosis-marital problems!
Old Li was a country bumpkin. In Elder Brother Zhang's view, anyone not from Beiping was country folk. Tianjin, Hankou, Shanghai, even Paris and London-all were countryside. The mountains Elder Brother Zhang knew were the Western Hills. Fruit sellers from the Northern Hills seemed ineffably mysterious to him. His farthest journey had been beyond Yongding Gate. But he knew that Jingdezhen produced porcelain, Suzhou and Hangzhou produced silk, Qingdao was in Shandong, and Shandong people all ran pork shops in Beiping. He had never seen the sea, nor did he wish to. The center of the world was Beiping, so Old Li was from the countryside because he wasn't born in Beiping. Elder Brother Zhang felt special sympathy for country folk. Most of those who intended divorce were country people! Rural matchmakers, like village doctors, weren't very skillful. Being born in the countryside was, to some extent, a misfortune.
Both of them worked at the Finance Bureau. In all conscience, Old Li's learning and qualifications were superior to Elder Brother Zhang's. Yet when they sat together, if Elder Brother Zhang seemed like a great man, Old Li didn't even measure up to a minor clerk. If Elder Brother Zhang were to chat with foreign ambassadors, he would surely utter profoundly moving words, while Old Li became flustered and awkward at the sight of a waitress. Old Li was one of those children from the late Guangxu era whom neither grandmothers doted on nor uncles loved. It was hard to say why he was so inconspicuous. Before cutting his queue, Elder Brother Zhang looked almost as blessed as the warlord Zhang Xun. After the haircut, with a dab of hair oil, he at the very least resembled a bank manager. Old Li, on the other hand, would twist uncomfortably in the latest Western suit as if it were stuffed with two pounds of lumpy cotton scraps. His freshly shaved face seemed to ooze a dull, astringent sap, as if following the path of the razor. When he handed out his business card-'Finance Bureau, Second Section Clerk'-people seemed to ponder for a long time before daring to acknowledge it as fact. If he mentioned having studied banking and economics, people would scrutinize his face more closely, as if there were something about it that was unworthy of those subjects.
Actually, Old Li wasn't ugly. He was tall and slender, with broad brows and large eyes, though his mouth was somewhat too large, containing a set of even, white, and strong teeth. Yet, he was unpleasant to look at. In any setting, he made people feel uncomfortable. He seemed aware of this himself, so he took extra care in everything, which only made him appear more flustered. If someone poured him tea, he would invariably stand up and receive it with both hands, as if his sole purpose was to spill tea on them and scald his own hand. He would then hastily pull out a handkerchief to wipe it up, inevitably bumping their nose in the process. After that, he would remain silent until driven to desperation, whereupon he would grab his hat and leave, rushing off to who knows where.
At work, however, he was extremely meticulous. Consequently, bearing burdens was his lot. Meeting superiors, going on business trips, sharing unofficial perks, getting promotions-none of these ever fell to him. Beyond official duties, buying and reading books were his recreation. Occasionally, he went to the movies alone. But if a modern couple in the shadows ahead or beside him surreptitiously kissed, he would shudder all over, stand up, and leave, the iron heels of his leather shoes seemingly on a mission to trample women’s toes.
As for Elder Brother Zhang, he had a long face, though not quite the long, gloomy face of a donkey. A smile often plumped it out somewhat, making it appear fuller, and he carried the appropriate flesh of a man in his forties or fifties. With a high nose, yin-yang eyes, and large earlobes, he was a man of substance wherever he went. Dressed impeccably: a dark blue serge gown lined with camel-hair wool, a plain black satin waistcoat with a small pocket in front holding a gold-clipped fountain pen that had never touched ink. Sometimes he took it out and wiped the nib with a white silk handkerchief. Carrying a walking stick from Weixian county with gold bands, its tip never touched the ground. Smoking an English silver-lined pipe, he gently pressed the tobacco with an enamel matchbox while puffing. On the four fingers of his left hand, he wore gold rings engraved with his name in seal script. Under the gown, he wore no traditional Chinese underjacket but a Western-style undershirt, because he adored the pair of faux-gem cufflinks on the cuffs. Sister-in-law Zhang had sewn four pockets onto this undershirt, so his wallet, seal box-never to leave his side, ready to stamp marriage certificates at any moment-and gold watch all had a secure place and weren't easily pilfered by pickpockets. On holidays, he sometimes carried a small camera slung over his shoulder, though he hadn't started taking photos yet.
There was nothing Elder Brother Zhang did not appreciate, especially clever little gadgets. The sale dates of the Zhongyuan Company, the Commercial Press, the Wu Caixia Southern Embroidery Shop, the Hengdeli Watch and Clock Store-he remembered them more accurately than anyone. Yet, he did not buy foreign goods. Not buying foreign goods fulfilled all patriotic duties. Whoever denounced traitors, Elder Brother Zhang always had the right to join in the chorus.
His experience was akin to a daily-use encyclopedia. He knew about affairs in every field. He had held every kind of minor official post. He knew staff members from every political party, yet never cared about their tenets or doctrines. No matter how society changed, he always had work. And upon entering any government office, he immediately became the most beloved Elder Brother Zhang. New colleagues only needed to mention someone, whether section chief, department head, or clerk. He would shut his left eye, smile with the right eye at the blue smoke from his pipe, and listen with sincere attention. After they finished, he would open his left eye and whisper, 'Him? I was his matchmaker!' From then on, the entire office knew a living deity had arrived, a reincarnation of the Old Man Under the Moon. Henceforth, Elder Brother Zhang worked both his official job and his matrimonial vocation. Most days, there was little official work to do, but not a day lacked wedding designs and arrangements. And the busier the weddings, the less official work Elder Brother Zhang needed to attend to. 'Govern through marriage,' he would say during his busiest times. More phone calls came for him than for anyone else, yet the office attendants did not mind. Especially the young attendants-if they served Clerk Zhang well, they could surely marry a wife, perhaps plain-looking, but with a dowry of two trunks and four boxes, already placed and weighed on the matchmaker's scales!
'Old Li, come home for a simple meal tonight!' Elder Brother Zhang issued invitations not by asking if one had time, but by outright commanding. Yet he commanded so warmly that you felt you had to say yes even if you had the most pressing matters at hand!
Old Li agreed without having said anything. Or perhaps it should be said that Elder Brother Zhang answered for him before Old Li could respond! Waiting for Old Li to answer a question took time. If anyone asked him something, anything, he was like a telephone operator receiving several call codes at once. Only after gradually deleting the irrelevant thoughts could he formulate a reply. Ask him abruptly about the weather, and he might recall forgetting his schoolbag in childhood. Consequently, he thought more meticulously than others and did not easily forget things.
'Come early, Old Li! Just a simple home-cooked meal, so we can have a chat. Shall we say five-thirty?' Elder Brother Zhang did not command to the very end, turning the last phrase into a question.
Elder Brother Zhang wasn't back yet. Sister-in-law Zhang, knowing Old Li was coming for dinner, let him in. Elder Brother Zhang was unable-not unwilling-to keep time strictly. Meeting three social obligations in a day, finalizing two betrothals, perhaps accompanying Mrs. Wang or Aunt Li the Second to view dowries-punctuality was impossible under such circumstances. Old Li knew this, so he did not blame Elder Brother Zhang. But what to say to Sister-in-law Zhang? He hadn't prepared to chat with her!
Elder sister-in-law was just like elder brother in every way except not being a man. What Elder Brother Zhang knew, she knew too. If elder brother was the matchmaker, she was the deputy matchmaker. Her tone and even her appearance somewhat resembled Elder Brother Zhang's, except she was shorter. Sometimes she looked like Elder Brother Zhang's elder sister, sometimes like an aunt. Only when she spoke did you dare decide she was Mrs. Zhang. Elder sister-in-law's laughter was a pitch higher than elder brother's. When elder brother merely pursed his lips, her lips had already parted. When elder brother made a sound, she had already made the window paper vibrate. Elder sister-in-law did not have yin-yang eyes. She was quite comely, had cut her hair, then let it grow again after a month because without a small bun at the back of her head, she felt unbalanced.
'Sit, sit, Elder Li!' Sister-in-law Zhang always addressed people in unison with elder brother. 'Elder brother will be back soon. We'll have mutton hot pot later. I'm off to slice the meat. There's plenty of tea, melon seeds, and snacks here. Help yourself, don't stand on ceremony. Take off your overcoat.' She included the guest's customary lines, laughed twice, suddenly stopped, and walked out.
Old Li never found an appropriate thing to say before elder sister-in-law walked out. He felt somewhat more at ease. Taking off his overcoat, he searched for a place to put it, ending up draping it over his own arm. Sitting down, he dared not touch the snacks, only picked up a melon seed to roll between his fingers. It was early winter. The room had a Western-style stove installed but it was not yet lit. Old Li's palms were sweating. Visiting friends, his sweat came more readily than words. Sometimes, seeing friends could even cure his head colds.
Weather-wise, there was no real need for hot pot yet. But dressing and eating in accordance with the season was one of life's little pleasures. Elder Brother Zhang was a prophet when it came to mutton hot pot, noodles with thick gravy, New Year cakes, fur robes, wind goggles, and firecrackers. 'Pleasure' was more civilized than 'necessity'. Even at the slightest hint of a breeze, though leaves barely stirred, Elder Brother Zhang would put on his wind goggles! Even if there was a meaningless two-foot-long gray cloud in the sky, Elder Brother Zhang would set down his walking stick and switch to a small umbrella! Everything in Elder Brother Zhang's home was arranged to match this philosophy of eating 'early season' hot pot and carrying weather-forecast umbrellas. A plate of papaya was already placed in the living room. The narcissus had sprouted. Elder Brother Zhang enjoyed his own sun-dried narcissus in the depths of winter, then bought hothouse-forced 'dragon's claw' and 'exquisite jade' varieties for the New Year. The gramophone records, which Old Li surreptitiously flipped through, were all recent releases-not just Peking opera, but also sound film song records for young ladies. Everything was there, making sure everything was in tune with, nay, ahead of the season. The floor had a carpet, and the chairs were old-style hardwood-standing seemed almost more comfortable than sitting; yet who dared say the blue-ground, light pink peach blossom carpet paired with hardwood carved chairs wasn't classically elegant and graceful!
Old Li felt a touch of envy-almost verging on jealousy-toward Elder Brother Zhang. Because he admired Elder Brother Zhang, he extended his admiration to Sister-in-law Zhang. She had gone to slice the mutton. Yes, Elder Brother Zhang employed no live-in servants! When household chores were busy, he could borrow a male servant from the yamen. Servants weren't afraid of, and sometimes even welcomed, masters who made a great fuss but understood nothing of the trade; all thunder and no rain was useless. But Elder Brother Zhang never made an empty fuss; he truly understood the trade inside out! He only needed to walk a few steps on the street, and presto, he knew the prices of everything from fox-fur robes to small dried shrimp! The very air of the street seemed to speak to him. No servant lasted long in the Zhang household. Elder Brother Zhang was not unfair or inconsiderate. Precisely because he was fair and considerate, servants often felt they should jump back into the river or hang themselves to be appropriate. All household matters fell to Sister-in-law Zhang. She always laughed so boisterously. Old Li couldn't help but admire her. Yet, after thinking for a while, he shook his head slightly. No! Such a family was a heavy burden. Only Elder Brother Zhang-the very crystallization of common sense, a living price list-could willingly bear this burden, and then extract from it a modicum of joy, a bit of happiness derived from wiping tables, washing dishes, and slicing mutton, a bit of satisfaction that made a woman's status plummet to less than the value of a pound of mutton. Sister-in-law Zhang was pitiable!
Elder Brother Zhang returned. He held four paper packages of varying sizes, and under his arm was clamped a large bundle. Without setting these down, he managed to shake hands with his guest using his left hand. His handshake was in a class of its own: always using the left hand, not shaking straight on but at a right angle, as if taking a pulse on the other's palm.
Elder Brother Zhang possessed something more than he did, Old Li thought. What was it? What made Elder Brother Zhang so cheerful? Carrying paper packages to the kitchen seemed far removed from prickly words like 'life' and 'truth'. Paper packages, pointless busyness, the kitchen-all seemed mundane and honest, at best possessing the same flavor as toilet paper or quilts. Yet, if he himself had the chance to go to the kitchen, he might not object. Firelight, the smell of meat, a kitten's meow-perhaps this was truth, this was life. Who knew?
'Old Li,' Elder Brother Zhang returned to chat with his guest, 'you try today's mutton, I guarantee it's good. Even the shrimp paste oil is the best available in Beiping. I myself just take a bite or two, no other flaws. Let me tell you, Old Li, for a man to eat something delicious, and for a woman to wear nice clothes, hahaha!' He took his pipe down from the wall.
A row of five pipes hung on the wall. Elder Brother Zhang didn't wait until the old one was completely unusable before buying a new one. He would buy a new one when the old was only half worn, alternating them to extend their overall lifespan. Elder Brother Zhang didn't much like brand new things, nor did he like things that were completely old. A pipe too worn to use still had flavor when burned as firewood, but match-sellers wouldn't accept it in trade, truly leaving him at a loss.
Old Li didn't know whether to laugh along with his host or not. About to open his mouth, he felt embarrassed and licked his lips. He mentally prepared himself for Elder Brother Zhang's interrogation, but Elder Brother Zhang seemed disinclined to discuss serious personal matters until the Mongolian hot pot was safely in his belly.
Yes, Elder Brother Zhang believed that if the government could treat the entire nation to Mongolian hot pot on the New Year's Day of the national calendar, even if it were just dumplings, there would be no need to issue orders banning the old lunar calendar. With full bellies, and then discussions of marriage-possessing these two things, the world could not help but be peaceful.
From the hot pot itself to the chopped scallions, not a single item lacked an air of celebration. Old Li had never eaten such a plentiful and comfortable meal. Comfortable-only then did he come to admire Elder Brother Zhang's view of life: with oil in the belly, life had meaning. When God created man, He placed the belly in the center, the very core of life. His mouth had been made slick by the mutton broth-floating with a layer of oil droplets and green cilantro leaves, like an imaginary, poetic brew, the very essence of heaven and earth combining plant and animal-making speech feel as if it were about to roll down a greased pulley.
Sister-in-law Zhang cooked, served tea, attended to the guest, added broth, changed chopsticks-Old Li ate so happily he dropped his chopsticks twice-selected the fattiest pieces for herself, and praised her own culinary skills, all simultaneously. Done beautifully, eaten beautifully. As soon as everyone finished, she immediately carried everything away, as if she possessed several invisible hands that cleared up everything without a trace. If she weren't busy transporting dishes and bowls, Old Li might have thought her a goddess!
Elder Brother Zhang offered Old Li a Manila cigar. Old Li didn't know what to do. To appear polite, he lit it with his mouth, then held it between his fingers, specifically to flick the ash. Elder Brother Zhang lit his pipe. The tobacco smoke merged with the lingering taste of mutton in his mouth into a new flavor, carrying a hint of life's smile, as it were.