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Authors: Yu Hua,Andrew F. Jones

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Literary, #Reference, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary Fiction, #Classics, #Fiction

Chronicle of a Blood Merchant (6 page)

BOOK: Chronicle of a Blood Merchant
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When Xu Sanguan turned and saw Yile pressed flat to the wall, he lifted his hand menacingly in the air. But just as he was about to slap him, he thought better of it.
Damn. Yile isn’t even
my own son. I have no right to hit someone else’s child.

As Xu Sanguan began to walk away, Yile’s voice rang out, “I’m not going. He Xiaoyong’s not my dad. My dad is Xu Sanguan.”

“Bullshit,” Xu Sanguan commented to the neighbors. “Look at this little bastard. He thinks he can implicate me, but I had nothing to do with him.”

At this point Xu Yulan once again burst into sobs. “What did I do in my past life to deserve this?”

By now Xu Yulan’s litany had lost much of its interest for the spectators. She went through the changes several more times, but her voice had begun to weaken with fatigue and, lacking its original bite and elasticity, became dry and gravelly. She waved her handkerchief back and forth with less and less force, and the gasps she took for air between sentences became lower, heavier, and slower. Her neighbors picked up and left, like theater patrons after a show. Even her husband left. Xu Sanguan had long ago become accustomed to her litanies on the doorstep. She might as well be sitting there knitting a sweater, for all he cared.

Only Yile was left standing there, glued against the wall, with hands behind his back scraping up against the whitewash. When everyone else had left, Yile approached his mother.

Xu Yulan’s body was propped against the door frame. She was no longer waving the handkerchief in the air. Her chin was cupped in her palm. When she saw Yile approach, the tears that had already ebbed once again began to flow.

Yile said to her, “Mom, don’t cry anymore. I’ll go over and call He Xiaoyong my dad.”

When Yile arrived at He Xiaoyong’s door, he saw two girls a little younger than himself playing with rubber bands. As they stretched out their hands and hopped back and forth, their braids bobbed back and forth behind them. “You’re He Xiaoyong’s daughters, right?” he asked. “That means you’re my little sisters.”

The two girls stopped jumping up and down. One of them sat on the doorstep, and the other sat down next to her sister, and together they stared in Yile’s direction.

When Yile saw He Xiaoyong and his skinny wife emerge from inside, he called to him, “Dad.”

He Xiaoyong’s woman said to He Xiaoyong, “Your wild oat is here. What are you going to do about him?”

Yile called out again, “Dad.”

He Xiaoyong said, “I’m not your dad. Why don’t you go home now? And don’t come around here again.”

Yile called out once again, “Dad.”

He Xiaoyong’s woman said to He Xiaoyong, “Why don’t you just get rid of him?”

Yile called out once more, “Dad.”

He Xiaoyong said, “Who’s your dad? Get out of here!”

Yile stuck out his hand to wipe the snot from his nose. “My mom said so. My mom said if I called you my dad and you didn’t answer me, then I should say it a few more times. I’ve called you my dad four times now, but instead of answering me, you just told me to go away. I’ll be going home now.”

CHAPTER TEN

Blacksmith Fang came to Xu Sanguan and demanded that he bring the money to the hospital immediately. “If you don’t bring the money,” he said, “they won’t give him any more medicine.”

Xu Sanguan said to Blacksmith Fang, “I’m not Yile’s dad. You’ve got the wrong man. You ought to go after He Xiaoyong.”

Blacksmith Fang asked, “When did you stop being Yile’s dad? Before Yile injured my son? Or just after?”

“Of course it was before,” Xu Sanguan said. “Think it over. I’ve been cuckolded for nine years now. And I’ve taken care of his son for nine years despite all that. If I were to pay the hospital bill for your son in addition to everything else, then I’d really be the king of cuckolds.”

Blacksmith Fang could not help but concur with Xu Sanguan’s point of view. So he went to He Xiaoyong and said to him, “Because of you, Xu Sanguan’s been cuckolded for nine years. And he’s raised your son for nine years despite all that. The saying goes that one ought to repay a drop of water with a flood. For the sake of those nine years, you could at least pay my son’s hospital bill.”

He Xiaoyong said, “How do you know Yile is my son? You think he’s mine just because he looks like me? That doesn’t prove a thing. Lots of people look alike.”

When he finished, he went inside, opened up a trunk, and took out his official residence permits to show to Blacksmith Fang.

“Take a good look. Do you see Yile written anywhere on this permit? Do you or don’t you? Whoever has Yile’s name on their residence permit should be the one who has to pay for your son’s hospital bill.”

Since neither Xu Sanguan nor He Xiaoyong was willing to pay, Blacksmith Fang was forced to call on Xu Yulan. “Xu Sanguan says Yile isn’t his son, and He Xiaoyong says he isn’t his son either. Since neither of them will admit that they’re Yile’s dad, you’re the only one left to ask for money. Thank heaven Yile only has one mom.”

When Xu Yulan heard what Blacksmith Fang had to say, she wrapped her face in her hands and began to sob.

Blacksmith Fang stood patiently by her side, and when it seemed that she had cried her fill, he added, “If you don’t pay up, I’m going to have to bring some men over to go through your things and take whatever’s worth any money. And you better believe that I’ll go through with it. I’m not the kind of man who talks big but doesn’t follow through.”

Two days later Blacksmith Fang arrived with two three-wheeled carts and six men to help with the job. His entourage filled almost the entire lane.

It was around noon, and Xu Sanguan was just about to go out the door and back to work when he saw Blacksmith Fang arrive. He knew that this was the day everything in his home would be confiscated. He turned to Xu Yulan and said, “Get seven glasses ready and boil a kettle of water. Any tea left in that canister? We have company. Seven men in all.”

Xu Yulan, wondering who all these people might be, walked to the door to see. When she saw that it was Blacksmith Fang, her face went white and she said to her husband, “They’ve come to confiscate our things.”

Xu Sanguan said, “That doesn’t matter. They’re still our guests. Get the tea ready.”

Blacksmith Fang and his men arrived at the house, parked the carts, and stood by the door. Blacksmith Fang began, “There’s nothing I can do about this. We’ve known each other more than twenty years now, and we’ve always been on the level with each other. But there’s nothing else I can do. My son’s waiting for me in the hospital, and if I don’t pay up, they won’t give him any more medicine. After your Yile smashed my son’s head, did I come to your house and make a scene? No. I’ve sat with my son in the hospital the whole time, waiting for the money. But it’s been more than two weeks, and I really can’t wait any longer.”

At this point Xu Yulan sat down in the middle of the doorstep and stuck out her arms as if to block their entrance. “Don’t come into my house and take my things. This house is my life. I’ve struggled for ten years. I’ve scrimped and saved for ten years. Please, I’m begging you, don’t come in.”

Xu Sanguan said to Xu Yulan, “Come on now. They’re already here, and they’ve even brought the bicycle carts along. It’s not like they would turn around and go home with just a few words from you. Why don’t you get up and make a kettle of tea?”

Xu Yulan stood up, wiped the tears from her face, and went inside to boil the water.

After she had gone, Xu Sanguan said to Blacksmith Fang and his men, “Come on in. Take everything you can move. Just don’t take any of my things. This problem with Yile has nothing to do with me, so you can’t take any of my things.”

Xu Yulan, standing by the stove making tea, saw them come into the house through the door by the kitchen. She watched them rifle through the trunks and remove the table. Two of the men took their stools and set them atop one of the carts. The two trunks she had brought with her to the house as dowry were carried out and piled on a cart, as were the two silk dresses that had also been part of her dowry. She had never been able to bear the thought of actually wearing them; now they were draped across trunks that sat atop a cart.

Xu Yulan watched them take her house apart piece by piece. By the time she had boiled the water and prepared seven cups of tea, there was no table to put them on. Xu Sanguan was helping them haul away the little table where they shared their meals, where their children wrote their homework assignments. They loaded it onto one of the carts. Xu Sanguan, panting from his exertions, straightened and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Xu Yulan’s tears continued to flow. “Can you believe it? Not only is he helping you confiscate our things, but it looks like he’s even working even harder than you too.”

Finally Blacksmith Fang and his men began to remove the bed where Xu Sanguan and Xu Yulan slept. When Xu Sanguan saw what was happening, he hastily interjected, “Wait! You can’t take that bed. Half of that bed belongs to me.”

Blacksmith Fang replied, “This is just about the only thing in this house that’s worth any money.”

Xu Sanguan said, “You took our kitchen table. Half of that table was mine too. You took the table, so why don’t you leave me the bed?”

Blacksmith Fang looked around the emptied room and nodded. “All right. Leave them the bed. Otherwise they won’t have anywhere to sleep tonight.”

As soon as Blacksmith Fang had secured the table and the trunks and all their other household items to the carts with strong rope, his men began to pull them down the lane. Blacksmith Fang said, “We’ll be on our way then.”

Xu Sanguan smiled and nodded toward them.

Xu Yulan, tears streaming down her face, said, “Why don’t you have a cup of tea before you go?”

Blacksmith Fang shook his head. “No, thank you.”

Xu Yulan persisted, “But I’ve already made you a kettle of tea. It’s on the floor by the stove. Have some tea before you go. I made it especially for you.”

Blacksmith Fang looked toward Xu Yulan. “In that case, I suppose we will have a cup of tea before we go.”

They went into the kitchen to drink the tea. Xu Yulan stood by the doorstep. When they were finished, she watched them step past the threshold and out of the house. She watched as they began to pull the carts down the lane. And only then did she begin to cry in earnest.

“I don’t want to live anymore. I’ve had enough of this life. It would be better if I was dead. If I was dead, I wouldn’t have to worry so much. If I was dead, I wouldn’t have to cook and clean for the husband and kids. I wouldn’t be so tired, and I wouldn’t be so sad. If I was dead, I would be happy. I would be even happier than I was before I got married.”

Blacksmith Fang and his men were still pushing the carts down the lane. When Blacksmith Fang heard her lament, he pushed one of the carts to a side of the lane, turned around, and said to Xu Yulan and Xu Sanguan, “Listen, I’m not going to sell these things right away. I’ll keep them at my house for a few days. Even four days would be all right with me. I’ll give you three or four days. If you can come up with the money in time, I will personally bring every single one of your things back and see to it that they’re put exactly where they came from.”

Xu Sanguan said to Blacksmith Fang, “Listen. She knows just as well as I do that you had no choice in the matter. It’s just that she’s a little upset right now.”

Then Xu Sanguan knelt down beside Xu Yulan and said, “Blacksmith Fang had no choice. The fact is that your son smashed his son’s head open with a rock. Blacksmith Fang has done his best to be kind to us. If it had been someone else, they’d have smashed all our things long ago.”

Xu Yulan covered her face with her hands and began a fresh bout of weeping.

Xu Sanguan hurriedly waved in Blacksmith Fang’s direction. “Go on, you go on now.”

Xu Sanguan looked on as his home of ten years, piled precariously atop two carts, clattered and wobbled down the lane. When the carts disappeared around the corner, he too began to cry. He bent over toward Xu Yulan, slumped down wearily beside her on the doorstep, and together they wept for the home they had lost.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The next day Xu Sanguan called Erle and Sanle to his side. “You two sons are all I have left now. I want you to remember who it was who brought us this low. We don’t even have a stool left to call our own. There was once a table where the two of you are standing now, and a trunk where I’m standing. Now everything’s gone. Our house was full of things before, and now it’s empty. Sleeping in my own house is like sleeping out in the open country. I want you to remember who brought us to this pass.”

His two sons said, “It was Blacksmith Fang.”

“It most definitely was not Blacksmith Fang,” Xu Sanguan said. “It was He Xiaoyong. Why do I say it was He Xiaoyong? Because He Xiaoyong knocked up your mom behind my back to make Yile, and then Yile broke Blacksmith Fang’s son’s head open with a rock. Don’t you think it was He Xiaoyong’s fault?”

His two sons nodded their heads.

“So”—Xu Sanguan paused for a mouthful of water—“when you two grow up, I want you to take revenge on He Xiaoyong for me. You know who He Xiaoyong’s daughters are, don’t you? You do. Do you know what their names are? No? Doesn’t matter, as long as you recognize them. Remember, when you’re all grown up, I want you to rape He Xiaoyong’s daughters for me.”

After one night’s sleep in his newly cavernous home, Xu Sanguan felt that he couldn’t go on like this, that he must get his things back from Blacksmith Fang no matter the cost. And it was thus that he thought once again of selling blood, because if he hadn’t gone to sell blood with Ah Fang and Genlong ten years earlier, he would never have had this home in the first place. Now he needed to sell blood once more. With the money he would earn selling blood, he could buy back his table, his trunks, and all his stools. But that would be letting He Xiaoyong off too easily. He had raised He Xiaoyong’s son for nine years. Would he now have to pay back his son’s debts for him as well? His heart began to sink, and his throat felt constricted. So he once again called Erle and Sanle to his side and told them that He Xiaoyong had two daughters, that taking proper revenge required patience, and that ten years was by no means too long to wait. What did patience mean? Patience meant that in ten years time he wanted Erle and Sanle to rape He Xiaoyong’s daughters.

When Xu Sanguan’s two sons listened again to his instruction that they should rape He Xiaoyong’s daughters, they began to giggle. Xu Sanguan quizzed them: “So what are you going to do after you grow up?”

The two sons replied, “Rape He Xiaoyong’s daughters.”

Xu Sanguan broke into roars of laughter. He felt better now. He felt good enough to go sell some of his blood. He walked out of the house and to the hospital. This was the decision he had made that morning: to go to the hospital, to look up the blood chief he hadn’t seen in many years, to let them tie a cord around his arm until the veins stuck out and the fattest needle the hospital had to offer slid into his thickest vein, sucking out his blood through a tube until it filled a big glass bottle. He had seen his own blood before. It was so thick that it looked black, with a bubbly whitish froth that rose to the top of the bottle.

Xu Sanguan, holding a pound of white sugar in one hand, pushed open the door to the blood donation room at the hospital. Blood Chief Li was sitting behind his desk, wearing a filthy white smock, and holding a newspaper that had been used to wrap some fried dough. The paper looked as if it had been soaked in oil, because it was almost transparent in the light that shone through the window and into the room.

Blood Chief Li set down his newspaper and watched as Xu Sanguan advanced toward him. Xu Sanguan placed the packet of sugar in front of him on the desk. Blood Chief Li reached out a hand to squeeze the parcel, then turned his attention back to Xu Sanguan.

Xu Sanguan smilingly took a seat across from the blood chief, noticing at the same time that Blood Chief Li had a lot less hair and a lot more flesh around his face than the last time he had seen him. He smiled and said, “It’s been quite a few years since you’ve come by the factory.”

Blood Chief Li nodded. “You’re from the factory?”

Xu Sanguan nodded. “I’ve come here before, with Ah Fang and Genlong. We met once a long time ago. You live over by the South Gate Bridge, right? How’s your family doing? You still remember me?”

Blood Chief Li shook his head. “I can’t remember now. A lot of people come to see me. They usually know who I am, but I don’t always know who they are. But I do know Ah Fang and Genlong. They came by just three months ago. When did you come here with them?”

“Ten years ago.”

“Ten years?” Blood Chief Li spat a gob of phlegm onto the floor. “How do you expect me to remember someone who came through here ten years ago? Even a god wouldn’t be able to remember as far back as all that.” He lifted his feet onto the chair in front of him and rested his arms on his knees. “You came in today to sell blood?”

Xu Sanguan replied, “Yes.”

Blood Chief Li pointed at the parcel on the table. “Is this for me?”

Xu Sanguan replied, “Yes.”

“I can’t take it.” Blood Chief Li drummed on the tabletop with his fingers. “If you’d come six months ago, I would take it, but now I really can’t accept any gifts. Last time Ah Fang and Genlong came they brought me two dozen fresh eggs, but I didn’t even keep one of them. I’m a Communist Party member now, know what I mean? Now I can’t even take ‘so much as a needle and thread from the masses.’ ”

Xu Sanguan nodded. “I have five in my family, so we get enough coupons for a pound of white sugar every year. I spent all of this year’s coupons just to show my respect for you.”

“It’s refined sugar?” Blood Chief Li lifted up the parcel, opened it, and peered at the shiny white crystals inside. “White sugar’s actually quite valuable. Just now I thought it was salt.” As he spoke, he poured a little sugar in his palm and gazed down at the crystals. “This white sugar’s nice and soft and fine, just like a young girl’s skin. Don’t you think so?”

Blood Chief Li bent his head to his hand, stuck out his tongue, and licked the sugar out of his own palm. He savored the sweetness for a moment, eyelids dropping shut with pleasure. Then he carefully wrapped up the parcel and handed it back to Xu Sanguan.

Xu Sanguan pushed it back across the table. “Keep it.”

“I can’t keep it,” Blood Chief Li said. “I can’t even take ‘so much as a needle and thread from the masses’ anymore.”

“I bought it just to show my respect for you. If you won’t take it, who else would I give it to?”

“Keep it for yourself.”

“I wouldn’t waste such good stuff on myself. Refined sugar’s for giving away.”

“You’re right there,” said Blood Chief Li, edging the packet toward his side of the table. “It really would be a shame to use such good sugar yourself. Let me have another taste of the stuff.”

Blood Chief Li poured another spoonful of sugar into his palm, stuck out his tongue, and licked. As he savored the sugar, he once again pushed the parcel back to Xu Sanguan.

Xu Sanguan promptly slid it back over toward Blood Chief Li. “Take it. If I don’t say anything, no one will ever know.”

Blood Chief Li was clearly displeased by this last offer. His smile instantly disappeared, and he said, “I was just having a taste to make you feel better. If I give you a yard, don’t think you can take a mile.”

Xu Sanguan could only reach out and take the sugar. “Then I’ll keep it for myself.”

The blood chief watched as Xu Sanguan put the parcel back into his pocket. Then he tapped the tabletop with his finger and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Xu Sanguan.”

“Xu Sanguan?” He drummed on the table. “That sounds familiar.”

“I came once before.”

“No, that’s not why.” Blood Chief Li waved his hand. “Xu Sanguan, Xu Sanguan.”

Suddenly the blood chief let out a hoot and then a guffaw. “I remember now. So you’re Xu Sanguan? You’re the famous cuckold.”

BOOK: Chronicle of a Blood Merchant
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