Explore Chapter 8 of 'The True Story of Ah Q' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
The hearts of the people in Weizhuang grew calmer by the day. According to the news that came, although the revolutionaries had entered the town, there was not much change. The county magistrate was still the same official, only his title had changed to something, and the provincial graduate had also taken some office-these terms the people of Weizhuang could not understand-and the officer in charge of the troops was still the same old local captain. The only terrible thing was that some bad revolutionaries among them were making trouble; on the second day they started cutting off queues. It was said that the boatman Qijin from the neighboring village fell victim and was left looking like a monster. But this was not considered a great terror, because the people of Weizhuang rarely went to town anyway, and even if occasionally someone thought of going, they quickly changed their minds and avoided the danger. Ah Q had also thought of going to town to look up his old friends, but on hearing this news he had to give up the idea.
But it could not be said that Weizhuang was without reforms. After a few days, the number of people who coiled their queues on top of their heads gradually increased. As has been said before, the first was naturally scholar Gong, then Zhao Sichen and Zhao Baiyan, and later Ah Q. In summer it would have been nothing unusual for people to coil their queues on top of their heads or tie them in a knot, but now it was late autumn, so this practice of "autumn following summer's fashion" was considered extremely bold by those who coiled their queues, and it could not be said to be unrelated to reform in Weizhuang.
"Ho! The revolutionaries have come!"
Ah Q heard this and was very envious. Though he had long known the great news that the licentiate had coiled his queue, he had never thought of doing the same himself. Now that he saw Zhao Sichen doing it, he finally got the idea of imitating him and decided to put it into practice. He coiled his queue on top of his head with a bamboo chopstick and, after hesitating for a long time, finally walked out boldly.
He walked along the street, and people looked at him but said nothing. At first Ah Q felt displeased, then indignant. He had become very irritable lately. In fact, his life was no harder than before the revolution; people were polite to him, and the shops did not demand cash. But Ah Q felt he was too frustrated: since he had joined the revolution, it should not be like this. What's more, once he saw Young D, which made him even angrier.
Young D had also coiled his queue on top of his head, and even used a bamboo chopstick! Ah Q never expected that he would dare to do that, and he absolutely would not allow him to do it! What was Young D anyway? He felt like grabbing him right away, breaking his chopstick, letting down his queue, and giving him a few slaps on the face, to punish him for forgetting his own status and daring to become a revolutionary. But in the end he let him off, just glaring at him and spitting out a "Pah!"
During these days, the only person who went to town was The Fake Foreign Devil. The Zhao licentiate had originally wanted, by virtue of his former lodging of trunks, to visit the provincial graduate in person, but he gave up the idea because of the danger of having his queue cut. He wrote a letter with Yellow Umbrella pattern, entrusted it to The Fake Foreign Devil to take to town, and also asked him to recommend him for membership in the Freedom Party. When The Fake Foreign Devil returned, he collected four silver dollars from the licentiate, and then the licentiate had a silver peach-shaped badge hanging from his lapel. The people of Weizhuang were amazed and said it was a Persimmon Oil Party's button, worth as much as a Hanlin academician. Zhao Taiye suddenly became extremely important, far more so than when his son had first become a licentiate, and he looked down on everyone, including Ah Q, with utter contempt.
Ah Q was already indignant and felt neglected all the time. As soon as he heard the rumor about the silver peach-shaped badge, he realized the reason for his neglect: to join the revolution, just saying you surrendered was not enough; coiling your queue was not enough either. The first thing was still to get acquainted with the revolutionaries. In his whole life he only knew two revolutionaries. The one in town had been "swish" beheaded long ago, and now only The Fake Foreign Devil remained. He had no other choice but to hurry and consult with The Fake Foreign Devil.
The gate of the Qian residence was wide open, so Ah Q timidly crept in. Once inside, he was greatly startled. There stood The Fake Foreign Devil in the middle of the courtyard, dressed all in black, probably in foreign clothes, with a <<<silver peach-shaped badge>> hanging from his body, and in his hand the club with which Ah Q had once become acquainted. His queue, which had grown to over a foot long, was unbraided and hung loose over his shoulders, his hair disheveled like a Taoist immortal. Facing him stood Zhao Baiyan and three loafers, listening respectfully.
Ah Q quietly approached and stood behind Zhao Baiyan, wanting to greet him, but not knowing what to say. Calling him The Fake Foreign Devil was certainly out of the question. "Foreigner" was not proper either, nor was "revolutionary." Perhaps he should call him Foreign Gentleman.
"I'm impatient, so whenever we meet I always say: Brother Hong! Let's strike! But he always says No! - That's a foreign word, you wouldn't understand. Otherwise we would have succeeded long ago. But this is exactly where he is cautious. He repeatedly invited me to go to Hubei, but I haven't agreed yet. Who wants to work in this small county town?"
"Um... this..." Ah Q waited until he paused briefly, then finally spoke with all his courage, but for some reason he did not address him as Foreign Gentleman.
Ah Q covered his head with his hand and instinctively fled out of the gate. Foreign Gentleman did not give chase.
He ran more than sixty paces before slowing down. Then sorrow welled up in his heart: Foreign Gentleman would not allow him to join the revolution; he had no other way. From now on, he could never hope to have men in white helmets and white armor come for him. All his ambitions, aspirations, hopes, and future were wiped out. As for the gossip spreading among the loafers and making him a laughingstock to Young D, Wang Hu, and the like, that was a secondary matter.
He felt he had never experienced such emptiness. Even his own coiled queue seemed meaningless and contemptible. For revenge, he felt like letting it down immediately, but he did not actually do so. He wandered until nightfall, bought two bowls of wine on credit, drank them, and gradually cheered up. Fragments of white helmets and white armor reappeared in his mind.
One day, as usual, he idled until late at night, and only when the tavern was about to close did he saunter back to the Tutelary God's Temple.
He suddenly heard a strange noise, not like firecrackers. Ah Q, who loved excitement and meddling, went straight toward the sound in the darkness. There seemed to be footsteps ahead. As he listened, suddenly a man came running from the opposite direction. Ah Q saw him and immediately turned and ran after him. The man turned, and Ah Q turned too. The man stopped, and Ah Q stopped. He saw nothing behind him, and saw that the man was Young D.
Ah Q's heart began to pound. Young D left as soon as he had spoken. Ah Q, however, ran and stopped two or three times. But having been in "that line of business" before, he was unusually bold. So he crept to the corner of the street, listened carefully, and seemed to hear an uproar. He looked carefully and seemed to see many men in white helmets and white armor carrying out trunks, furniture, and even the licentiate's wife's Ningbo-style bed in an endless stream. But it was not clear. He wanted to go closer, but his feet would not move.
There was no moon that night. Weizhuang was very still in the darkness, as peaceful as in the time of Emperor Fu Xi. Ah Q stood watching until he grew bored. It seemed the same as before, moving back and forth: trunks brought out, furniture brought out, the licentiate's wife's Ningbo-style bed brought out... so much that he could hardly believe his eyes. But he decided not to go closer and returned to his temple.
The Tutelary God's Temple was even darker. He closed the gate and felt his way into his room. He lay down for a long time before calming down and beginning to think about himself: the men in white helmets and white armor had clearly come, but they did not call on him; they moved away many good things, and he got no share-it was all the fault of The Fake Foreign Devil, who wouldn't let him rebel. Otherwise, why would he get nothing this time? The more he thought, the angrier he became, until he was consumed with hatred. He nodded bitterly: "You won't let me rebel, only you can rebel? Damned The Fake Foreign Devil-fine, you rebel! Rebelling is a crime punishable by beheading. I'll report you, and see you arrested and taken to the county court for beheading-and your whole family executed! Swish! Swish!"