第二章 (Chapter Two)

The Qi family's house was situated in 'Little Sheep Fold' near Huguo Temple in the Western City. It might well have been a sheepfold in bygone days, for unlike the typical alleys of Beiping, which ran straight or with a bend or two, it resembled a gourd. The passage leading to West Street formed the gourd's mouth and neck-narrow, long, and filthy. The mouth was so tiny that one could easily miss it without careful searching or inquiring of the postman. Upon entering the neck and seeing the garbage piled against the walls, one dared venture inward, much like Columbus advancing upon spotting driftwood on the sea. After several dozen steps, the view suddenly opened to reveal the gourd's chest: an oval space about forty paces east-west and thirty paces north-south, with two large pagoda trees at its center and six or seven households surrounding it. Further ahead lay another lane-the gourd's waist. Passing through the 'waist,' one reached another clearing, two or three times larger than the 'chest,' which was the gourd's belly. Were the 'chest' and 'belly' the sheepfold? That awaited historical investigation before any conclusion could be drawn.

The Qi residence lay within the gourd's chest. Its gate faced west, diagonally opposite a large pagoda tree. When Old Master Qi had chosen this house long ago, its location had decided his purchase. He loved this spot. The alley's narrow, inconspicuous entrance made him feel secure; the six or seven families in the chest provided a sense of warmth. Outside the gate, the two large pagoda trees offered a playground for children, free from carriages and horses, with pagoda beans, flowers, and insects serving as toys. Though situated in a humble lane, it connected to the main street to the west and backed onto Huguo Temple-which held temple fairs on the seventh and eighth days of each month-making shopping fairly convenient. Thus, he had decided to buy the house.

The house itself was not particularly commendable. First, it lacked proper layout. The courtyard was a long strip running east-west, short north-south, so the north and south rooms could not face each other directly. If they had, the yard would have been squeezed into a slit, resembling the corridor between cabins on a steamship. The two south rooms stood right against the street gate, while the five north rooms faced the southern wall. Two east rooms marked the eastern end of the yard. North of these lay a small open space for the latrine. Beyond the southern wall was the drying ground of an old incense shop, with a few willow trees. Fortunately, these trees were there; otherwise, the Qi family's southern wall would have bordered nothing but open land, as if their house were at a railway station with wilderness right outside the door. Second, the construction was not very solid. Apart from the north rooms' timber being passable, the rest had little to praise. Under Old Master Qi's tenure, the south rooms' gable and the east rooms' back wall had collapsed more than twice, while the partition walls-all built of broken bricks-crumbled inevitably every rainy season. The yard was earthen, without paved paths; during the rains, stagnant water could reach over a foot deep, forcing everyone to go barefoot when entering or leaving.

Yet Old Master Qi cherished this house deeply. The main reason was that it was his own acquired property, and no matter how poor its layout or construction, it deserved pride. Secondly, since he had obtained it, his household had only grown, now boasting Four Generations Under One Roof! The geomancy here must be excellent! When his eldest grandson Ruixuan married, the entire house was thoroughly renovated. This effort was led by Qi Tianyou-he aimed to transform his father's property into a fortress worthy of passing down, honoring both the elder and the descendants. Rotten timber was replaced, broken bricks swapped for whole ones, and all exposed wood was painted. After these modifications, though the layout remained somewhat unimpressive, the house became one of the best in Little Sheep Fold in substance. Old Master Qi gazed at the renewed house and sighed with satisfaction. After turning sixty and deciding to retire, he devoted his labor to beautifying the courtyard. Along the southern wall, he gradually planted begonias, hostas, hydrangeas, and saxifrage. In the yard's center, he kept four large pots of pomegranates, two of oleanders, and many low-maintenance flowering plants. Before the south rooms, he also planted two jujube trees, one bearing large white dates, the other the sweet-sour 'lotus seed' variety.

Looking at his house, his descendants, and the flowers he had planted, Old Master Qi felt his lifelong toil had not been in vain. Beiping was an immortal city, and his house too seemed destined to endure forever.

Now, Tianyou and his wife lived in the south rooms with Little Shun'er. Of the five north rooms, the central one served as a parlor. On either side of the parlor were small doors leading to Ruixuan's and Ruifeng's bedrooms; the easternmost and westernmost rooms each had separate entrances, the east for Ruiquan and the west for Old Master Qi's bedroom. The east rooms functioned as a kitchen and stored grain, coal briquettes, and firewood; in winter, they also housed the pomegranate and oleander plants. Back when he had bought the house, he had needed to rent out the east and south rooms to avoid an empty yard. Today, his own descendants nearly overflowed the space. With every room filled by his family, the old man's heart swelled with joy. He was like an ancient tree in the yard, its branches spreading wide, each leaf and blossom sprouting from him!

In the alley too, he felt a sense of pride. For forty or fifty years, he had lived here, while neighbors came and went, few staying a full decade or two. They were born, died, prospered, and declined, but Old Master Qi alone had taken root. He did not curry favor with those who left the humble lane due to rising fortunes, nor could he aid those who fell so low they could no longer stay. He only knew he remained fixed here, gradually becoming the patriarch of the entire alley. Newcomers always paid their respects to him first. At neighborhood weddings or funerals, he invariably occupied the seat of honor. He was the old lucky star of the area, symbolizing prosperity and thriving households!

Amid his pride, he dared not entertain wild fantasies. He only hoped to erect a festive canopy in his long courtyard to celebrate his eightieth birthday. Beyond eighty, he refused to think. If Heaven willed him to live on, well and good. If Heaven reclaimed him, he would close his eyes and depart, letting his descendants clad in white mourning garb escort him out of the city gate! In the gourd's chest, on the west side of the lane, was a sealed gate. On the south side stood two gates with clear-ridged gatehouses, leading to fairly tidy houses. On the north side were two gates, with small yards housing three or four families each. If the south side was a district of the well-off, the north was a slum. On the east side were three gates, the southernmost being the Qi residence. Next door to the Qi family was another long strip of a yard, home to three households. Further on was a place with inner and outer courtyards, over twenty rooms, occupied by at least seven or eight families of varied character. This could be considered a large tenement. Old Master Qi rather looked down on this compound, so he did not regard its inhabitants as neighbors. To mask his true reason, he always claimed that only a small part of that yard lay in the 'chest,' while most was in the gourd's waist, so they couldn't be considered close neighbors, as if the 'chest' and 'waist' were miles apart.

Excluding the tenement, Old Master Qi ranked the other five yards hierarchically. Most esteemed was the first from the west-Number One-on the south side. This gate housed the Qian family, who had moved away once but returned shortly, having lived here over fifteen years total. Old Qian and his wife were of Tianyou's generation, and their two sons had studied with Ruixuan. Now, the elder son was married, the younger engaged but not yet wed. In general eyes, the Qians seemed a bit odd. They were extremely polite to everyone, yet maintained a certain distance, as if looking up to all yet down on all. Their clothing was always a decade or two behind the times. To this day, Old Mr. Qian still wore a red woolen windcap in winter. The women of the household seemed never to step beyond the gate. When necessary, like buying needles or vegetables at the door, they only opened it a crack, as if afraid to leak some secret. Though the men came and went like others, their movements were guarded, keeping others in the dark. Old Mr. Qian held no job and rarely went out. Only when slightly tipsy would he stand at the gate in ancient attire, gazing up at the pagoda blossoms or smiling at children. What was their financial situation? What joys did they find in life? What pains? No one knew. Their yard was almost perpetually silent. When the alley had weddings, funerals, or street performances like land-boats or monkey shows, everyone came out to watch, but the Qian gate remained tightly shut. They seemed not to live but to hide from debts or disasters year-round.

In the whole alley, only Old Master Qi and Ruixuan visited the Qians, knowing some of their 'secrets.' In truth, the Qians had no secrets. Old Master Qi knew this well but preferred not to tell others. Thus, he felt a duty to guard their 'secrets,' enhancing his own status.

The Qian yard was small but filled with flowers. Many of Old Master Qi's seedlings and seeds came from here. In Old Mr. Qian's room, besides fresh flowers, were old books and worn paintings. His daily work involved watering flowers, reading, painting, and reciting poetry. Only when particularly happy would he drink two cups of his own infused wormwood wine. Old Mr. Qian was a poet. His poems were for his own contemplation, not for others. He lived according to his ideals, regardless of practicality. He sometimes went hungry, but never uttered a complaint. His elder son taught a few hours at a middle school, sharing his father's tastes. The younger son, the least poetic in the family, drove a car. Old Mr. Qian did not oppose this, only disliking the smell of gasoline on his son. Thus, the younger son seldom returned home, though not due to any quarrel over the smell. As for the Qian women, they stayed indoors not because of male oppression, but from shame over their outdated clothing. Mr. Qian and his sons were never ones to oppress anyone, but their financial means and life interests made them indifferent to fashion, so the women stayed hidden to avoid exposing their shortcomings.

In their interactions, Old Master Qi often visited Mr. Qian, but Mr. Qian never went to the Qi house. If Old Master Qi brought a bottle of wine as a gift, Mr. Qian would immediately send his son with a present two or three times more valuable. He never accepted anything without reciprocation. He was never financially comfortable, for he never kept accounts. When he had money, he spent it; when he didn't, he lost himself in poetic thought. His elder son shared this trait. He preferred painting at home to teaching extra hours for more income.

By temperament, learning, or interests, Old Master Qi had little reason to become close friends with Mr. Qian. Yet they became good friends. For Old Master Qi, first, he needed an elderly friend to share his old stories. Second, he admired Mr. Qian's knowledge and character. For Mr. Qian, he never curried favor with anyone, but if someone wished to visit, he did not refuse. He was aloof yet without contempt. If anyone wanted to see him, he was most amiable.

Though nearly fifty-eight, Qian Moyin's hair showed little gray. Short, rather plump, with a mouthful of glossy black teeth, he was endearingly sturdy. With a round face and large eyes often closed in thought, his voice was always soft, his tone polite and gentle, putting people at ease. He discussed poetry and painting with Old Master Qi, who understood little. Old Master Qi told him how a great-grandson had caught measles again or how a second granddaughter-in-law had changed her hair to an 'airplane style,' which held no interest for Mr. Qian. But the two shared a tacit understanding: one spoke, the other listened. When Qian Moyin showed paintings, Old Master Qi nodded in praise. When Old Master Qi reported domestic trivialities, Mr. Qian replied with simple phrases like 'How nice?' 'Really?' or 'True!' If at a loss, he would close his eyes and nod repeatedly. Eventually, their talk always turned to gardening, and both could chatter endlessly, finding rare delight. Though Old Master Qi cared for pomegranate trees for their fruit, while Mr. Qian admired the flowers' redness and the fruit's beauty, their cultivation methods offered mutual learning.

After lively discussions on plants, Mr. Qian often invited Old Master Qi for a simple meal, allowing the Qian women to chat about household affairs-a time when even Mr. Qian had to admit life involved more than poetry and painting, but also oil, salt, sauce, and vinegar.

Ruixuan sometimes accompanied his grandfather to the Qians, sometimes came alone. When alone, it was usually after a quarrel with his wife or others. Being a man of reason, he kept his temper in check, avoiding loud outbursts. He would slip quietly to the Qians, discuss topics far from family or national affairs with the father and son, and dissipate his anger.

Besides the Qians, Old Master Qi also liked the Li family opposite, Number Two. In the whole alley, only Old Li was of Old Master Qi's generation, and he stood barely an inch shorter-not because Fourth Master Li was shorter, but his back was more hunched. His profession was marked by a large lump on his neck. Two or three decades ago, Beiping had many such neck-lump bearers. They formed a trade, specializing in moving heavy items. For valuables like large porcelain vases, clocks, or rosewood furniture, they would bundle them, place a narrow board on their necks, and carry them off. They walked steadily, requiring great neck strength to bear weight without damage. People called them neck-porters.

Since the advent of handcarts, this trade gradually shifted from 'carrying' to 'pulling,' and though younger men still worked in it, their necks lacked the lump. Fourth Master Li must have been handsome in youth, despite the lump and early back-bending. Now, about Old Master Qi's age, his long face bore few wrinkles, his eyes were still sharp, and when he smiled, his eyes and teeth shone, hinting at his youthful good looks.