After returning furtively from Fuyuan Hall, Magpie Hua lay on the bed and did not go out. When Mr. Jian came back from a walk by the river, his kitchen maid Aunt Wu had prepared tangyuan (glutinous rice balls). She yelled from the kitchen, "Mr. and Mrs. Jian, the tangyuan is ready ... " Magpie Hua did not show up, which irritated Mr. Jian. He slammed the door. Hearing the slamming sound, Magpie Hua still did not show up. Mr. Jian shouted at Aunt Wu, "From tomorrow, don't prepare any breakfast for her if she won't get up!" Bewildered, Aunt Wu paused for a while, then returned to the kitchen to clear away the dishes and leftovers.
At about noon, hearing no sound from downstairs, Magpie Hua considered going to Yu Xiaoyong and escaping with him. They might have some happy days. She quietly got up and stooped over the handrail to look down. Mr. Jian might go out, and his daugher Xuetao was kicking a shuttlecock in the courtyard.
"Xuetao, why aren't you studying?" she called down.
"Because Mr. Yu is missing!"
Magpie Hua's heart missed a beat. "How?"
"He left early in the morning. Aunt Wu said he even took his bags with him. My dad went to Fuyuan Hall to inquire about something."
"Oh no, paper cannot wrap up fire!" Magpie Hua thought, slumping down on the edge of the bed and feeling a sharp twinge.
"Damn it! He abandoned me and escaped alone!" she said aloud. If Yu Xiaoyong were here, she would feel stronger, as he would undergo the punishment along with her. They ought to have escaped together! Magpie Hua was chilled with disappointment from head to toe. Before she could think of what to do, Mr. Jian stomped up the stairs.
The sound was so terrifying! Mr. Jian did not hurry upstairs. He violently stamped on the wooden stairs as though they were covered with numerous disgusting gray ants. Magpie Hua seemed to see a big foot treading on her overwhelmingly, stomping her into a pool of blood.
Bang! Mr. Jian pushed the door open. As his tall body blocked out half the daylight, the room became dim. He pulled down Magpie Hua's trousers and saw her swollen purplish bottom!
As his eyes gradually widened, he gave her a swift kick in her swollen backside with all his strength. With a scream, Magpie Hua fell to the ground. Stooping, Mr. Jian grabbed her hair and pummeled her with his heavy fists. Her delicate face was beaten beyond recognition, her nose, eyes and mouth all disfigured.
The scene was horrifying yet silent. Two thrushes in a camphor tree were twittering merrily, as though flirting with each other. The footsteps in the street slowed down, and the voices of passersby appeared more leisurely. The dusk in Meizi Town was noisy yet unhurried.
Exhausted from beating his wife, Mr. Jian sat on the edge of the bed and lit a cigarette. As it burned to the butt, he suddenly coughed up some purulent phlegm and spat it in Magpie Hua's face. Reaching out her hand with difficulty, she wiped the phlegm from her face and stared at it. Mr. Jian's green phlegm was mixed with her red blood, dirty and foul. Her throat was so itchy that she threw up. The vomit aroused her accumulated hatred and disgust. She suddenly got up, grabbed a small stool and violently threw it at Mr. Jian!
Mr. Jian was caught off guard. It made him see stars. He desperately shook his head. When he was no longer dizzy, Magpie Hua had rushed out of the room and downstairs.
Mr. Jian roared down, "Bolt the door quickly!"
Meng Chun stopped her and firmly bolted the door. She pounced to unlatch it, but Meng stood in place like an iron tower. She was unable to push him away. Just as she began to despair, Xuetao pounced on Meng Chun and bit his hand. She unlatched the door and escaped. Mr. Jian caught up with her and grabbed her by the hem of her blouse. With a rip, her blouse was torn and she fled.
Mr. Jian was about to chase her, when Xuetao clasped one of his legs. His employees stood still like poles, overwhelmed. Fuming with rage, Mr. Jian kicked Xuetao off and rushed after Magpie Hua, but she was out of sight. Picking up a stick, he smashed the blooming crabapple flowers in the corner.
When day broke, it was time for the Spring Sacrifice.
In the morning, the Meizi River was draped in a veil of mist which permeated the dense poplar woods, lingered on the roofs of the town for a while, and finally rested upon the surrounding hillside. To show his predictive ability, Mo Laojun liked to yell in a lazy tone, "When there is rain, the mist will envelop the mountaintop; when there is no rain, the mist will only envelop the mountainside ... " After hearing that repeatedly, people would know that it would be a fine day when they saw the mist enveloping the mountainside. Dewdrops dripped down, wetting the insteps of passersby. The dewy mugwort appeared more fresh and juicy than usual.
In the early morning, Qingping picked mugwort on the river bank. Hu Bicheng had also got up early that morning. He was standing on the stilted building looking into the distance. He had gotten drunk at Jian's Salt Firm the night before, resulting in a sore throat. After coughing up some purulent phlegm, he felt better. Glancing up, he saw a pretty woman picking mugwort in the morning mist opposite him. "What a coincidence!" he thought. "It's the owner of the Pickle Store!" While she was busy picking mugwort, her bun was unraveled by the twigs. She raised her hand to gather up her hair, and her breasts were exposed to the mist. "Ha-ha, I was originally reluctant to take office in Meizi Town," he smiled. "I never expected to see such beautiful scenery here!'
After finishing picking mugwort, Qingping squatted by the river and washed her hands in the limpid water. With a subtle smile, Hu Bicheng saw the fair skin of her nape.
However, the river bank became noisy before long. Women in threes and fours competed to pick mugwort.
After breakfast, the mugwort infused the air of Meizi Town with a faint fragrance. It tasted a little bitter, seemingly mixed with both sunlight and moonlight. Qingping was baking mugwort. She asked Mendou to buy dried bean curd from the Luo family. The Luo family was famous for making dried bean curd, which had even been offered to the emperor as a tribute in the past. When Mendou came back from Zhuanzhuan Street, his mother was placing preserved meat, dried bean curd and mugwort mixed with sticky rice in a steamer. The scene was exciting, and motivated him to work hard. He put lots of firewood in the stove, making the flames rise high.
As the sacrificial rice was steamed, the meat in the pot was stewed well. It was a time for offering sacrifices to the deities. This was Mendou's favorite thing, because he could eat the meat behind his mother's back. The God of Land was enshrined in a small temple built of stones. After offering sacrifices to the God of Land, he needed to walk along the field ridge to offer sacrifices to the God of Agriculture. The milk vetch in the field looked like a married girl blushing with shame. Seeing the oil on Mendou's lips, Xiao Laoqi teased him, "Are you offering sacrifices to the deities or yourself?" Hardly had his voice faded away when all people on the field ridge started taunting him. Blushing with shame, Mendou burned joss sticks and candles in random positions, and hastily offered sacrifices to the God of Agriculture.
After eating the sacrificial rice, Qingping took a jar of fermented tofu and went to visit Lyu Dashu, a salt team leader. There were forty or fifty porters in Jian's Salt Firm, and Lyu Dashu was their leader. Most salt team leaders were good at kung fu. When encountering bandits, they not only gave orders, but also went forth into battle so as to protect both their goods and their lives. There was no room for any error. Lyu Dashu and Qingping's husband had walked along the Salt Road when they were teenagers, and had experienced numerous dangerous situations together. They were brothers sharing weal and woe. However, over a decade, Lyu Dashu's ability and reputation had surpassed those of Mendou's father.
Lyu Dashu was practicing kung fu with a stool in his courtyard, and many people were watching him. A crooked plum tree shaded half of the spacious yard. In the late spring, the plum flowers withered and fell off. Lyu Dashu created a gust of wind which made snow-white petals drift profusely and wildly over everybody's heads. The excited men jointly poured water on him with gourd ladles. However, the spinning stool in his hand, like a translucent ball, did not let in a single drop of water, but the onlookers were drenched. As he withdrew the stool, the crowd burst into waves of applause. With loud honking, two frightened white geese fluttered down the stairs and hid under a bean jelly stall, unwilling to come out.
As the onlookers dispersed, Qingping stepped onto the Lyu family's stairs and said that she had a favor to ask of Mr. Lyu.
"I'm considering having Mendou join the porters. Big Brother Lyu, I hope you can give him some guidance!"
Before Lyu Dashu could reply, his wife Qiuhao gave her a slap. "He's so young!" she said. "Are you really determined to send him to the Salt Road?"
"He hangs around with Luozi. I'm afraid he may cause trouble sooner or later ... "
"All right. Don't worry," Lyu Dashu readily agreed. "Tell your son to pack up his bag. We'll start off tomorrow morning!"
Feeling relieved, Qingping made her way back at a brisk pace. Lyu Dashu was chewing a slice of fatty meat, but his eyes were fixed upon Qingping. He watched her walk down the stairs, turn the corner and disappear from his house ... Qiuhao was about to add rice for her husband but she threw the spatula in the wok instead. Lyu Dashu knew she was jealous. He stood up and filled his bowl with rice.
After Qingping returned home, an employee of Hu's store asked her to deliver some pickles. Carrying the pickles, she entered the residence of the Hu family. Hu Bicheng tugged at her sleeve and asked, "Do you plan to send your son to join the porters? What a cruel mother! You can send him to the township office. I'll appoint him to be a township militiaman."
Qingping gave him a sideways glance and replied, "Be a township militiaman? I would rather let him starve!"
Leaving Hu Bicheng alone, she went downstairs.
Qingping prepared fried rice for Mendou. She then took out a basket and sat at the door, sewing shoulder pads for her son. Qian Dadui came by wearing a gray double-breasted jacket and holding a tobacco pipe behind his back. He sang a song while beating time with the pipe, "Resting my hands on your shoulders, I dare not tell you: no girl is willing to mend my clothes and trousers ... " It seemed as though he had drunk half a jar of liquor. Qian Dadui was a man in pursuit of merriness. He spent most of his time on the Salt Road, without a fixed abode. He might return to his old house in Meizi Town occasionally, but would be back off again within two days. As an able-bodied man, he earned lots of money through manual labor. However, he spent it all in the inns and whorehouses on the Salt Road, and never saved a penny.
Qingping's worried look made Qian Dadui feel humorous. "Would you like to hear an interesting story?" he asked. She shook her head. He plopped himself down on the steps and began, "The Goddess of Mercy sent an attendant to make an inspection visit in the mortal world to see who lived happily and who lived miserably. After travelling around the world, the attendant went back to report to the Goddess of Mercy. 'The drinkers in the taverns are the most miserable,' he said. 'Every time they sip their liquor, they frown. As for the happy people, no one is happier than the porters! Shirtless, drenched with sweat, they still laugh and joke, yell and sing ... '" Qingping laughed until the tears rolled down her cheeks.
"The Goddess of Mercy is muddle-headed sometimes. That's seeking joy amidst poverty!" she said.
Qian Dadui looked down upon her narrow vision. He shook his head. "How could a happy person be poor?" he said, then roared with laughter. Startled by his laughter, a hen ran out of the henhouse and fluttered into a ditch.
After sewing the shoulder pads, Qingping asked Mendou to follow her to Jian's Salt Firm. The Salt Firm was busy. Lots of people were lined up to buy salt, and the courtyard was in a mess. Mr. Jian stood like a sovereign on the stilted building, with a sullen face.
"Isn't Jian's Salt Firm gorgeous?" Qingping asked. Mendou nodded. She continued, "Mr. Jian's grandfather was also a porter. Relying on manual labor, he earned some money, and he used it to set up a tinkering store outdoors. When the salt policy was relaxed, he bought a shop front and started running the Salt Firm ... "
"When you're tired of carrying heavy goods on the Salt Road, just think of the splendor of Jian's Salt Firm. A man without ambition is like an unburied corpse!"
On the night of the Spring Sacrifice, Mendou tossed about in bed pondering his mother's words. He looked forward to the dawn. He would go and earn money, run a big store and become a boss waving a silk fan all day. By that time, he could marry a girl like Magpie Hua. He would hold a barn lantern and observe her bottom all night ... Not long after he fell asleep, the bell of Badong Temple rang. He got up, had breakfast and put on his shoulder pads, leggings and straw sandals ... When she saw her son dressed in such a fashion, Qingping was dumbfounded. Apart from being a little thinner, he was almost the image of his father!
With tears in her eyes, Qingping wanted to give him a pep talk, but she was choked with sobs. At that moment, Fan Shaoying came to invite Mendou to load dangshen (Codonopsis pilosula) at Lei's Herb Store.
Fan Shaoying was not supposed to go to Yunyang this time as his wife Mutao had fallen ill. She had fainted on her way back after offering sacrifices to the God of Agriculture. His younger brother Shaoqing shouted for him to come, but he did not respond. Someone said he was at Barber Wang's shop. Each time before going on a journey, Shaoying would have a haircut and a shave at Barber Wang's shop. After returning home, he heard that Mutao was ill. Though he knew she was faking it, he did not intend to expose her pretence. After cooking a meal for himself, he packed up to leave home. Mutao got up. After drinking half a gourd ladle of cold water, she tossed the ladle into the water vat. "Do you intend to die out there?!" she demanded.
Fan Shaoying ignored her and mooned over Lan Huayan. Lan Huayan fascinated many people on the Salt Road. Mutao could not compare with her! She was not only good-looking, but also seductive. She wore a smile on her face even when she was angry. When she scolded you, she could still enchant you. There were strong winds and dense fog in Wawuliang Ridge. As you climbed up to it, your legs might tremble and your stomach rumble with hunger. However, as long as you entered Lan Huayan's inn to drink some tea, have a foot bath and receive the woman's soft glances and tender scoldings, you would forget all your hardships as though you had taken some panacea. Being a porter was a good job, as it gave you the chance to sleep on the wide bed of Lan Huayan's inn in Wawuliang! Fan Shaoying dreamed of divorcing Mutao and marrying Lan Huayan. Then he could show off his beautiful wife in Meizi Town!
Qingping turned to Shaoying and said, "It's Mendou's first time leaving Meizi. He's illiterate and doesn't know how to add up. Please teach him!"
Shaoying nodded at her absently, but his mind was filled with Lan Huayan.
At that moment, Lyu Dashu shouted for them to come into the street. As everybody came out, Lyu Dashu started singing, "Yippee — " The others followed him, "Yo!" Carrying goods on their shoulder-poles, they started off.
After leaving the street, they walked down the stone path that started at the maidenhair tree, passed through the green poplar woods on the banks of the Meizi River, and extended towards the undulating col. The sun came out from behind Wugong Mountain, and golden sunshine poured down on the flagstone path. Mendou rushed forward out of curiosity. Lyu Dashu shouted at him, "What will you do if you injure your feet from running?" The other porters smirked.
"This boy is impatient. He wants to get to the whorehouse on Banbian Street!" one said.
The shoulder-pole began to chafe Mendou's shoulders, causing him to fall far behind the others. Lyu Dashu asked the other guys to take a break, wash their faces at a roadside ditch and wait for him. Fan Shaoying brought the conversation around to Lan Huayan, and An Er said, "Last month in Wawuliang, I heard Lan Huayan bathing in her bedroom, so I set up a ladder to climb onto the beam. When I lifted the couch grass, I saw her climbing out of the bathtub, naked!"
Fan Shaoying was annoyed. "You saw her toweling herself?"
"Yeah ... "
The porters began talking about the matter. With a sullen face, Fan Shaoying thought to himself, "That woman is so pretty, with an oval face, arched eyebrows, red lips and white teeth, slender waist and plump bottom ... No, I'd better get her as soon as possible, without giving anyone else a chance ... "
The conversation became more and more barefaced. Sliding into a reverie, Fan Shaoying became silent.
"Stop your indecent remarks. Your cigarette butts are burning!" Lyu Dashu shouted. "Quickly! We need to take a break in Cool Breeze Cliff at noon, and arrive at Wawuliang Ridge in the evening. Only then may we rub Lan Huayan's back!" His voice reached the cliff opposite, shaking the entire mountain. Mendou also became excited, and piped up, "Yes, sir ... "
Before long, they arrived at White Crane Creek.
White Crane Creek flowed through a valley bottom between two cliffs. Filled with white and green colors, the creek water splashed in all directions as it encountered the rocks. Stepping on the wobbling stones, Mendou could not cross the creek and dared not shift his goods onto the other shoulder. He asked Lyu Dashu for help. Lyu Dashu stopped singing and said, "Use one shoulder to carry the goods. If you're tired, switch shoulders. There's no other way!" The other porters kept moving forward for fear of failing to reach Wawuliang Ridge in the evening due to his delay. If so, they would have no place to sleep, let alone get to rub Lan Huayan's back! In a sullen mood, Mendou licked the tears off his face and switched shoulders, his teeth chattering. Then he went ashore.
After crossing Sparrow Hawk Mountain, they arrived at Cool Breeze Cliff. The mountain pass was windy and it dried their sweat. Located between a rapid river and a steep cliff, Cool Breeze Cliff only had half a street. It consisted of a row of stilted wooden buildings on the edge of the cliff, a flagstone street supported by granite, and a waist-high stone barrier. All the buildings on the street were stilted buildings of the Tujia ethnic group. There was also a winding corridor. Part of it was suspended over the choppy creek while the other part stretched upwards along the cliff. On a stilted building, prostitutes dressed in red and green were drinking tea. Upon seeing the porters, they went downstairs and said in sweet voices, "Why not come in and drink some tea? You can leave after drinking just one cup of tea!" Their voices were even sweeter than the song of a thrush.
Lyu Dashu evaded them and stopped before a house by the cliff. It was an old shop. The shopkeeper was ugly but kindhearted. There was a trough under the yellow fruit tree, with glittering mountain spring water dripping into a smooth stone vat. They washed their faces with the water in the trough. Some went into the house to buy a meal. Those who brought fried rice allayed their hunger by eating the rice mixed with a bowl of cheap vegetable soup.
The fried rice was too dry to eat on its own. Mendou glued his eyes to the fermented tofu in the bowl of the shopkeeper's son. Lyu Dashu made a dragonfly with a palm leaf to tempt the kid. The kid jumped up to catch the dragonfly, but could not reach it. "If you give me your fermented tofu, I'll give you the dragonfly!" he suggested. The kid gave him the fermented tofu.
The shopkeeper came out of the room to chase after the kid. "Where's that bowl of fermented tofu?" she yelled. With a long upper body and short legs, she looked like a mushroom in the rain.
Pointing at Lyu Dashu with a spoon, the kid replied, "I gave it to him!"
Lyu Dashu immediately stood up, "Madam, I haven't seen you for a month. You appear to become more and more beautiful! I wish I could divorce my wife and marry you, then you could make pickles in the daytime and warm my feet in the nighttime!"
The shopkeeper grinned, exposing her buckteeth and gums. She went back into the room and brought them out a big bowl of fermented tofu.
After having their meal, they continued their journey. Someone said, "Qian Dadui hasn't come."
"He's staying with a prostitute in Banbian Street," Li Guisheng said with a smile. They did not wait for him. An old tree at the street crossing shaded half of the street. A white-bearded old man set up the final phase of a Chinese chess game under the tree, and waited for a challenger. Fan Shaoying wanted to play the game to win some sugar-coated figurines. Lyu Dashu knew that Fan Shaoying was good at Chinese chess, and he also wanted to try the game, so he waited. The old man squinted at the men in front of him. His eyes were quite sharp. Seeing them overwhelmed by his gaze, he withdrew it and asked, "Who is willing to crack the final phase I've set?"
Fan Shaoying poked Mendou. "Try it. I'll tip you a wink!"
Mendou stepped forward hesitantly. The old man took out the chess pieces from his pocket and quickly set up a game. Mendou did not know what to do. Fan Shaoying whispered, "This is called 'leading a nestling into its nest.' He's the red side. The black side can't win. It might be a draw at best. You'd better give in. However, the old man has supernatural powers. A game set up by him may suggest your destiny. You'll lose a few copper coins, but you'll gain good luck!"
When Mendou tossed three copper coins into the old man's bamboo tube, Lyu Dashu pushed his way to the front. The old man slowly set up a game. After pondering for a long while, Lyu Dashu still felt unsure about it. Shaoying said, "This is called 'wild horse plowing.' A strong mind cannot defeat destiny. It may be a draw at most." Frustrated, Lyu Dashu tossed copper coins into the bamboo tube as well. Liu Jianba could hardly wait. He also squeezed his way to the front to take a chance. After looking him over, the old man did not set up a game. Fan Shaoying urged him, "Set a game!"
The old man shook his head and said, "I won't play chess with a dying man!"
Upon hearing this, the crowd turned pale with fright. Liu Jianba scattered the chess pieces all over the ground.
"If I'm fine when I see you next, I'll throw shit on your stall!" he said.
Showing no anger, the old man picked up the chess pieces and asked, "Who else is willing to play chess with me?"
Dissatisfied with the implications of the previous game, Lyu Dashu wanted to play again.
The old man said, "It seems you're not walking on the Salt Road for the first time. You ought to know I never replay chess with anyone. Even if you come ten years later, I'll still remember you."
Dispirited, Lyu Dashu stepped back.
Thinking of Lan Huayan, Fan Shaoying asked the old man to set up a game. After the old man arranged the chess pieces, Fan Shaoying became wild with joy. He tossed a string of copper coins into the old man's bamboo tube. "Seeing 'thirsty steed dashing to the spring,' I'm willing to admit defeat!" he cried.
Everyone lost, but some were happy while others were sad. They continued on the road. A cool breeze blew, dispelling the recent episode. "The worst thing is being a porter for a lifetime," someone said. "No need to worry about it," someone else replied. "Death just means lying flat; survival means you can celebrate the Spring Festival!"
The next part of the journey was all uphill, with many curves and narrow sections. They sang chanteys together. They crossed Joy Slope, Muntjac Col, Evil Iron Valley, Horse Bite Ox ... When it was getting dark, they finally arrived at Wawuliang Ridge and saw the couch grass rolling in the wind!
Lan Huayan's thatched huts were surrounded by short yet stout cypresses which were protected by a waist-high stone wall. It looked like a maze arranged by an immortal. There was a door on both sides of the stone wall, serving as the entrance and exit. As the name suggested, Wawuliang Ridge meant the sound of wind blowing. Standing there, they felt the chilly wind whipping their faces. Lan Huayan's roof was covered with thin stone tiles, but couch grass kept being blown onto the road in the distance. Their hearts palpitated as they saw the couch grass. They had arrived at Lan Huayan's inn!
