Explore Chapter 5 of '彷徨' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
On that overcast spring afternoon, the air in the solitary teahouse of Jiguang Village grew tense once more. In people's ears, there seemed to linger a faint yet firm and heavy whisper-"Put it out!"
But of course, not everyone in the hamlet felt this way. Most residents seldom ventured out. Before any excursion, they would consult the almanac to see if it warned against travel. If no such warning appeared, they would still set out only after orienting themselves toward the "God of Joy" to invite good fortune. Only a handful of self-proclaimed broad-minded young men sat in the teahouse without such taboos, but in the eyes of the more reclusive folk, they were all wastrels.
"So they say, still the same," said Square Head. "He keeps on about 'put it out, put it out.' And his eyes glitter more fiercely than ever. Damn it! He's a real menace to our hamlet. Don't underestimate this. We ought to think of a way to get rid of him!"
"Getting rid of him is nothing. He's just a… a nobody! His ancestors donated money when the temple was built, and now he wants to blow out the eternal lamp. Isn't that an unfilial descendant? Let's go to the county office and report him for disobedience!" Kuoting pounded the table with his fist, speaking fervently. The lid of a tilted tea bowl clattered and flipped over.
Kuoting stared at him for a moment before answering. Meanwhile, the round-faced Zhuang Qiguang had already raised his voice. "If that lamp's blown out, what will our Jiguang Village be? It'll be finished! Don't the old folks all say it was lit by Emperor Wu of Liang and has been passed down ever since, never once extinguished? Not even during the Taiping Rebellion… Look, tsk, isn't that flame glowing green? Travellers passing through always stop to look and praise it… Tsk, so splendid… What does he mean by this nonsense now?…"
"I think… we might as well trick him again with the old method," said Auntie Hui Wu, the teahouse's owner and worker, who had been listening on the side. Seeing the conversation drifting from the main issue she focused on, she hastily intervened to steer the dispute back to the serious matter.
"How could you know? You were all little brats then, only knowing how to drink milk and soil yourselves. Even I wasn't like this back then. Look at my hands then, ah, they were truly tender and pink…"
"Bullshit!" Auntie Hui Wu glared but laughed. "Stop talking nonsense. Let's discuss serious matters. He was still young then. His father was a bit touched too. I heard one day his grandfather took him into the village temple to pay respects to the Lord of the Soil, the Plague General, and Lord Wang Lingguan. He got scared, refused to bow, and ran out. He's been odd ever since. Later, just like now, whenever he saw people, he'd discuss blowing out the eternal lamp in the main hall. He said if it were extinguished, there'd be no more locusts or sickness. He treated it like some grand righteous cause. Probably some evil spirit possessed him, afraid of the proper deities. Would we be afraid of the Lord of the Soil? Isn't your tea cold? Let me add some hot water. Well, later he barged in himself, wanting to blow it out. His father doted on him too much, refused to lock him up. Ah, didn't the whole hamlet get up in arms then, arguing with his father? But there was no solution-luckily my late husband was still around then. He thought of a trick: they wrapped the eternal lamp in a thick cotton quilt, pitch black, and led him to see it, saying it was already blown out."
"How could that work?" She looked at him in alarm, quickly waving her hands. "How could that work! Didn't his grandfather hold an official seal?"
"And he got better later!" She wiped some white foam from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, speaking more rapidly. "He recovered completely later! From then on, he never set foot in the temple again, never mentioned it for many years. I don't know why, but just a few days after watching the temple fair this time, he's gone mad again. Oh, exactly like before. He passed by here this afternoon, surely heading for the temple again. You should discuss it with Fourth Master. Better to trick him again. Wasn't that lamp lit by Fifth Brother Liang? Isn't it said that if that lamp goes out, this place will turn into a sea, and we'll all become loaches? You'd better go discuss it with Fourth Master quickly, otherwise…"
"Let's first go take a look in front of the temple," said Square Head, striding out the door with an air of importance.
Kuoting and Zhuang Qiguang followed. The triangular-faced man was last. Reaching the doorway, he turned back and said, "Put this round on my tab! Damn his…"
Auntie Hui Wu acknowledged him. Walking to the east wall, she picked up a piece of charcoal and added two lines below a small triangle and a string of short thin lines already drawn there.
When they caught sight of the village temple, they indeed saw several people together: one was him, two were idle onlookers, and three were children.
He looked much as usual: a sallow square face, a tattered blue cloth gown. Only in his large, long eyes beneath thick brows was there a somewhat unusual glint. He stared at people for a long time without blinking, his expression always tinged with grief, indignation, suspicion, and fear. Two straw leaves stuck to his short hair-likely placed there stealthily by a child from behind, for after glancing at his head, they all pulled in their necks, stuck out their tongues quickly, and giggled.
"I'm telling Old Black to open the door," he said softly and gently. "Because that lamp must be blown out. Look, the blue-faced deity with three heads and six arms, three eyes, the tall hat, the half-head, the ox head and pig tusks-all should be blown out… blown out. Blow it out, and we won't have locusts, we won't have snout plague…"
Kuoting instantly grew limp, as if sobering up from a drunk. But Square Head had already stepped forward, saying slowly, "You've always been sensible. This time, you're too confused. Let me enlighten you. Perhaps you'll understand. Even if the lamp is blown out, won't those things still be there? Don't be so foolish. Go back! Go to sleep!"
"I know. They'll still be there even if it's out." He showed a sinister smile again but immediately suppressed it, saying gravely, "Yet I can only do this for now. I'll start with this. It's easier. I will blow it out, put it out myself!" Saying this, he turned and pushed the temple gate with all his might.
"…!"
"…!"
Silence fell like the lingering chime of a clear bell. All living creatures around seemed frozen within it. But soon, several people began whispering to each other. Soon after, they all stepped back. Two or three stood again a little farther away. From behind the temple's rear wall, Zhuang Qiguang's voice shouted, "Old Black! It's not right! You must keep the temple gate tightly shut! Old Black! Do you hear? Shut tight! We'll go think of a plan and come back!"
After Square Head and Kuoting darted in and out of several household gates, the entire Jiguang Village was suddenly thrown into turmoil. In many people's ears and hearts, there was now "Set a fire!" Of course, many of the more deeply reclusive folk heard and felt nothing. Yet the air of the whole hamlet grew tense. Those who sensed this tension felt deeply uneasy, as if they themselves were about to turn into loaches and the world would end. They vaguely knew that what might be destroyed was merely Jiguang Village, yet they also felt that Jiguang Village was practically the whole world.
Soon, the core of this incident gathered in Fourth Master's parlor. Sitting in the place of honor was the venerable Old Guo, his face as wrinkled as a wind-dried orange. He stroked the white beard on his chin as if wanting to pull it out.
"This morning," he relaxed his hold on his beard and spoke slowly, "at the west end, Old Fu's stroke. His son said it was because… the local god was displeased. If this goes on… in the future… if anything happens… even fowl and dogs won't rest… it will inevitably come to… your honorable house… Yes, it will all come to your honorable house… causing trouble."
"Is that so?" Fourth Master also stroked the grizzled catfish whiskers on his upper lip, looking utterly unconcerned. "This is retribution for his father. When he was alive, didn't he refuse to believe in Bodhisattvas? I never got along with him then, but couldn't do a thing about him. Now, what can I do?"
"I think… there is only one way. Yes, one. Tomorrow… tie him up… take him to the city… put him in that… that City God Temple… for one night. Yes, one night… to drive out… the evil spirits."
By virtue of their service in guarding the whole hamlet, Kuoting and Square Head not only entered this rarely seen parlor for the first time but also sat below Old Wa and above Fourth Master, with tea served. They had followed Old Wa in, made their report, and then just drank tea. After finishing, they remained silent. But now Kuoting suddenly voiced his opinion: "That method is too slow! The two of them are still watching. The most urgent thing is what to do right now. If he really starts a fire…"
"My Liu Shun…" Fourth Master suddenly said solemnly and sorrowfully, his voice trembling slightly. "…is getting married this autumn… You see, he's so old now, only knows how to go mad, refuses to settle down and start a family. My late brother lived a whole life too. Although not exactly well-behaved either… but the family line must not be broken…"
"I've been hoping every day he would get better," Fourth Master said slowly after a temporary quiet. "But he never does. It's not that he doesn't get better… it's that he himself doesn't want to. Since there's no other way, locking him up as this gentleman suggested, to prevent him from harming others and disgracing his father… might actually be better, might be more fitting to his father…"
Before dusk, peace had returned to the world. Or perhaps everyone had simply forgotten. Not only was the tension gone from people's faces, but all traces of earlier agitation had faded. In front of the temple, footprints were naturally more numerous than usual, but soon they dwindled. Just because the gate had been closed for days, preventing children from playing inside, they found the courtyard especially fun that day. After dinner, several ran to the temple to play games and guess riddles.
"You guess," said the oldest one. "I'll say it again-'White-canopied boat, red oars, row to the other shore and rest a while, eat some snacks, sing an opera.'"
"Ha, a passenger boat?" said the oldest. "Passenger boats are rowed with sculls. Can they sing operas? You can't guess. I'll tell you…"
The children stopped running once outside the temple. Holding hands, they slowly walked toward their homes, all smiling and singing an impromptu song-"White-canopied boat, rest on the other shore. Put it out now, put it out myself. Sing an opera. I'll set a fire! Ha ha ha! Fire, fire, fire, eat some snacks. Sing an opera.…………… ………"