Chronicle of a Blood Merchant Read online

  “I don’t want to.”

  Then Xu Yulan’s temper flared, and she would shout, “What do you want to do?”

  Xu Sanguan paced back and forth across the room, looking up at the rays of sunlight filtering down into the house through the ceiling. Then he said, “I’m going up on the roof to fix the tiles. Otherwise, when the rainy season comes and it’s pouring outside, it’ll be drizzling in here too.”

  Yile quickly said to Xu Sanguan, “Dad, let me go borrow a ladder.”

  Xu Sanguan said, “You’re still too little to carry a ladder.”

  “Dad, will you let me ask for it? Then you can carry it home yourself.”

  When Xu Sanguan got the ladder home and was about to climb up to the roof, Yile said, “Dad, I’ll hold the ladder steady for you as you climb up.”

  Xu Sanguan mounted the roof, the tiles below squeaking and straining under his weight. As soon as he reached the roof, Yile was off like a shot. He ran to get Xu Sanguan’s teapot and set it down next to the bottom of the ladder. Then he ran to get a washbasin, filled it with water, and folded a washcloth neatly over the rim.

  Finally, teapot in hand, he shouted up to the roof, “Dad, come down and take a break. I brought you some tea.”

  Xu Sanguan, standing on the roof, replied, “I don’t want any tea. I just got up here.”

  Yile wrung out the towel, draped it over his arm, and called up to the roof, “Dad, come down and take a break. I brought you a washcloth.”

  Xu Sanguan, squatting atop the roof tiles, replied, “I’m not sweaty.”

  Sanle wobbled toward them. As soon as Yile saw him coming, he waved him off. “Sanle, go away. This is none of your business.”

  But Sanle didn’t want to leave. He walked under the ladder and held it steady.

  Yile said, “We don’t need you to hold the ladder now.”

  So Sanle sat down on the first rung of the ladder.

  Yile, at his wit’s end, looked up and shouted, “Dad, Sanle won’t go away.”

  Xu Sanguan shouted at Sanle from the rooftop, “Sanle, go away. What if one of these tiles were to fall and hit your head?”

  Yile often said to Xu Sanguan, “Dad, I don’t like to be with mom and the rest of them. All they do is go on and on about which girls are pretty and who has the nicest clothes. I like to spend time with the men. Men talk about more interesting stuff.”

  Xu Sanguan, wooden bucket in hand, went to the well to get water. The rope attached to the handle of the bucket had been soaked a hundred times and dried in the sun just as many times. This time, when Xu Sanguan attempted to draw the bucket out of the well, all that emerged was a piece of broken rope. The bucket had been swallowed up by the water and sunk to the bottom of the well.

  Xu Sanguan went home and fetched a long bamboo pole that they usually used for hanging the wash out to dry. Then he brought a stool over to the side of the well, sat down, and working with a pair of pliers, fashioned a slender hook out of a piece of wire. With another piece of wire, he fastened the hook to the end of the pole.

  When Yile saw him, he walked over and asked, “Dad, did the bucket fall into the well again?”

  Xu Sanguan nodded. “Help me make a knot.”

  Yile sat down on the ground next to him and held the long pole steady while Xu Sanguan fastened the hook onto its tip. Then Yile took one end of the pole over his shoulder and Xu Sanguan took the other end. Father and son carried the pole over to the well.

  Usually it only took Xu Sanguan less than an hour or so to find the bucket. He would reach down into the well with the pole and feel around the bottom. After thirty minutes or an hour he was able to hook the handle of the wooden bucket and bring it back up to the surface.

  But this time he grappled with the pole for almost an hour and a half, all to no avail. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he said, “It’s not on top, and it isn’t to the left or the right. It just seems like it’s nowhere to be found. Must be that it landed handle side down. This time it’s bad. This time we’re in real trouble.” He slid the pole from out of the water and laid it across the top of the well, scratching his head in bewilderment.

  Yile bent over the edge of the well and gazed down at the water for a moment. Then he said, “Dad, look how hot and sweaty I am.”

  Xu Sanguan grunted absently.

  “Hey, Dad, you still remember the time I put my face in the washbasin and held my breath? I was under water for one minute and twenty-three seconds.”

  Xu Sanguan said, “If the handle’s on the bottom, what the hell are we going to do?”

  Yile said, “Dad, the well’s too deep. I’m too scared to jump. Dad, the well’s too deep, and I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to get back out. Dad, get some rope to tie to my waist. Let me down little by little, and then I’ll dive in. I can dive for one minute and twenty-three seconds. I’ll find the bucket, and then you can pull me up.”

  Xu Sanguan, slowly coming to the realization that Yile’s plan might actually work, ran home to grab a length of brand-new rope. He was afraid that if he fastened him with a piece of old rope, Yile might disappear down the well just like the bucket. That would really be the end.

  Xu Sanguan wound the two ends of the rope around Yile’s thighs and then fastened the rope to his own belt. Just as he began to let Yile slide slowly down into the well, Sanle came wobbling over toward them. As soon as he approached, Xu Sanguan warned him, “Sanle, go away! You might fall down the well.”

  Sanle stood quietly to one side as the rope, and Yile along with it, slid deeper and deeper into the well. Soon the rope went taut and tugged sharply at Xu Sanguan’s belt.

  Xu Sanguan began to slowly and softly count the seconds to himself as Sanle, mouth agape, looked on. “Ten seconds . . . twenty seconds . . . thirty seconds . . . forty seconds . . .” Xu Sanguan paused to take a deep breath and continued, “Fifty seconds . . . sixty seconds . . . one minute and ten seconds . . .”

  There was a sudden sharp tug on his belt that dragged Xu Sanguan a step closer to the mouth of the well. He braced his feet against the stone steps and began to pull with all his might on the rope. Sanle took up the count where his father had left off, sounding out the seconds as Xu Sanguan panted with the effort of pulling the rope up from the depths: “One minute and eleven seconds . . . one minute and fifteen seconds . . . one minute and twenty seconds . . .” Xu Sanguan heard what sounded like the distant echo of a heavy stone falling into the water, and then a gasp and a splutter as Yile emerged above the surface of the water.

  Dripping wet, he clambered the last few steps out of the well and shouted through pale blue lips, “Dad, I found the bucket! Dad, I almost couldn’t hold my breath long enough! Dad, the bucket was caught under a ledge! Dad, how long was I down in the well?”

  Sanle ran eagerly forward to announce the total but was quickly and dismissively waved away by Xu Sanguan, who was stroking the water from Yile’s forehead with his other hand.

  “Sanle, didn’t I already tell you to get out of here?”

  XU SANGUAN said things like that to “the little brat” all the time.

  So did Xu Yulan.

  Even Yile and Erle told him to go away sometimes.

  And when they told him to go away, he really would go away, walking through the streets, salivating as he stood for what seemed like hours outside the candy shop, squatting alone by the river looking at the little fish and the little shrimps in the shallows, pasting himself against electrical poles to listen to the sound of the electricity rushing across the wires above, falling asleep in somebody else’s house with his arms wrapped around his knees. He would always walk and walk until he didn’t know where he was, then ask for directions until he found his way home.

  Xu Sanguan always said to Xu Yulan, “Yile’s like me and Erle takes after you. But I have no idea who that little brat takes after.”

  When Xu Sanguan said such things, what he really meant was that of the three children, he liked Yile best of all. But it was also Yile wh
o had become someone else’s son. Sometimes Xu Sanguan would sit back in the rattan chair thinking about Yile and start to cry.

  As Xu Sanguan cried, Sanle approached, and seeing his father cry, he too burst into tears without knowing why. His father’s sadness was catching, like a yawn.

  When Xu Sanguan discovered that someone was crying even more brokenheartedly than himself, he turned his head to discover “the little brat” standing by his side. He would dismiss him with a wave of his hand. “Sanle, go away.”

  Sanle could only turn and leave. By this time Sanle was already seven years old. He carried a little slingshot in one hand, and his pockets were stuffed full of little stones. He would pace back and forth, and when he caught sight of a magpie moving along the eaves of a house or stirring among some tree branches, he would aim the slingshot and fire. Even if he didn’t succeed in actually hitting the bird, he could usually send it packing, twittering as it flew into the distance. Then he would shout, “Come back, you! Come back!”

  Sanle’s slingshot was often aimed at street lamps, at cats, chickens, and ducks. He would aim for clothes hanging from bamboo poles to dry, at bundles of dried fish hanging from the eaves of houses, at bottles, baskets, and vegetables floating in the river. One time he even hit another boy on the head with a rock.

  The boy was about the same age as Sanle himself. He was walking down the street when the rock hit his head. At first his body rocked back and forth with the unexpectedness of the blow. Then he reached out his hand to rub the spot that had been hit. Finally, he burst into tears. Still crying, he turned to see Sanle holding the slingshot and grinning in his direction. He walked over toward Sanle and extended one arm to slap him. Rather than landing on Sanle’s face, the slap somehow landed on the back of his head. Sanle, in turn, reached out and slapped the other boy. Then they traded blows, the sound of their slaps ringing out like an ovation. But the sound of their crying was even louder, because by now Sanle too was sobbing with anger and pain.

  The other boy said, “I’m gonna go get my brother. I have two big brothers. My brothers will beat you up.”

  Sanle said, “So what? I have two big brothers too. My brothers’ll beat up your brothers.”

  The two children stopped slapping each other and negotiated. They agreed that they would each fetch their brothers and meet at the same place an hour later.

  When Sanle arrived home, he saw Erle sitting drowsily inside. “Erle, I had a fight with another kid. Come out and help me.”

  Erle asked, “Who was it?”

  Sanle said, “I don’t know his name.”

  Erle asked, “How big is he?”

  Sanle said, “The same as me.”

  As soon as Erle learned that the kid was only as big as his little brother, he slapped the table and shouted, “Goddamn! Trying to bully my little brother, is he? I’ll show him a thing or two.”

  By the time Sanle led Erle back to the street where the slapping match had taken place, the other boy had arrived with his own brother in tow. The other boy was taller than Erle by a head.

  Chills ran down Erle’s spine, and he turned and said to Sanle, “Stand behind me, and don’t say a word.”

  When the other boy’s big brother saw Erle and Sanle approach, he gestured at them with a dismissive air of nonchalance. “Is that them?” Then he approached, arms swinging expectantly back and forth, glaring balefully in Erle’s direction. “Which one of you hit my brother?”

  Erle spread out his hands, palms up, and smiled placatingly. “It wasn’t me.” As he spoke, he lifted his index finger over his shoulder to point at Sanle standing behind him. “It was my little brother who did it.”

  “Then I’ll beat up your little brother.”

  “Let’s be reasonable and talk this thing out,” Erle said to the other boy’s brother. “If we can’t work things out, then I won’t stand in your way, even if you have to hit him.”

  “So what if you did stand in the way?” He shoved Erle, sending him reeling several yards back. “I want you to stand in the way. I’m dying to beat the shit out of both of you.”

  “I’m definitely not going to get involved.” Erle waved his hands for emphasis. “I’m the kind of person who likes to talk things out, to be reasonable.”

  “Talk all you goddamn want.” He took a step forward and punched Erle in the nose. “First I’ll beat the shit out of you, and then I’ll beat the shit out of your little brother.”

  Erle began to retreat, one step at a time, asking the smaller child as he went, “Who is this guy to you? What’s his problem? Why’s he so unreasonable?”

  “He’s my oldest brother,” the child replied, not without a certain elation. “And I have another big brother too.”

  As soon as Erle heard this, he shouted, “Hold everything.” He pointed at the two younger children. “This is no fair. My little brother called his second oldest brother, but your little brother went and got his oldest brother. That’s not fair. If you had any guts, you’d let my little brother go get our oldest brother too. You think you have the guts to take on our big brother?”

  The other boy waved his hand through the air. “I’m not scared of anyone or anything. Go get your big brother then. I’ll beat the shit out of all three of you.”

  Erle and Sanle ran home to fetch Yile. Yile came but was quick to realize as he arrived on the scene that the other boy was almost half a head taller than himself. He said to Erle and Sanle, “I want to take a piss first.”

  As he spoke, he turned and walked down a lane. When he emerged, his hands were held behind his back. In his hands he held a sharp triangular rock. He approached the bigger boy with his eyes fixed firmly to the ground.

  “This is your big brother? Too scared to even look at me?”

  Yile looked up long enough to determine just where the bigger boy’s head was located. Then he lifted the rock and brought it down on top of it. The bigger boy cried out once. Yile brought the rock down on his head three more times. The bigger boy tumbled to the ground, blood trickling onto the pavement around his head.

  When Yile was sure the boy wouldn’t be able to get up again, he threw away the rock, wiped the dirt from his hands, and gestured toward his silent and frightened little brothers.

  “Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  People said, “Blacksmith Fang’s son was beaten so badly by Xu Sanguan’s son that he broke his head right open. I heard his skull is cracked open, like a watermelon that’s been dropped on the ground and broken into bits and pieces.” “I heard he used a cleaver, cut almost an inch into the skull, so you could see his brains oozing out. The nurse at the hospital said his brains looked like stewed tofu, and steam was coming out from between the cracks in his head.” “Dr. Chen had to sew up his head with almost a hundred stitches.” “How can you sew through something as hard as a skull?” “I don’t know how he did it.” “He used steel needles, they’re about so thick, a few times thicker than the ones you use to stitch the soles of your shoes.” “Even those wouldn’t work. I heard he had to use a little hammer to hammer in the steel needles.” “But first you have to pull out all his hair.” “What do you mean, pull out his hair? How do you do that?” “I mean shave his head clean. It’s not as easy as pulling up a patch of weeds, with the skull all broken to pieces like that. If you pulled too hard, pieces of his skull might come away along with the hair.” “That’s called ‘clearing the area.’ Before an operation you have to clear away all the hair. When I had my appendix removed last year, they shaved off all my pubic hair.”

  XU SANGUAN said to Xu Yulan, “Have you heard what people are saying?”

  PEOPLE SAID, “Dr. Chen saved Blacksmith Fang’s son’s life. He was operating on him for over ten hours.” “Blacksmith Fang’s son’s head is completely wrapped in gauze bandages, all you can see are his eyes, his nose, and a little bit of his mouth.” “After the kid got out of the operation he didn’t move for almost twenty hours. Wasn’t till yesterday morning that
he finally opened his eyes.” “Blacksmith Fang’s son can eat a little gruel now, but as soon as he takes a sip, he brings it all up again. Vomits everything. He even threw up some of his own shit.”

  X U SANGUAN said to Xu Yulan, “Have you heard what people are saying?”

  PEOPLE SAID, “As long as he’s in the hospital, Blacksmith Fang’s son is going to need medicine, and shots, and an IV bottle too. It costs a fortune. Who’s going to pay for all that? Xu Sanguan? Or He Xiaoyong? Anyway, Xu Yulan’s the one who’s really on the hook, because no matter who the dad might be, we all know that she’s his mom.” “Is Xu Sanguan going to pay? He’s been going around saying that He Xiaoyong should take Yile back.” “He Xiaoyong really should pay. After all, Xu Sanguan has raised his son for nine years now for nothing.” “Xu Sanguan’s slept with Yile’s mom for nine years for nothing too. If I’d spent nine years with a woman for nothing and her son got himself in trouble, I sure would stand to one side.” “You’re right there.” “What’s so right about that? Spending nine years with a woman as pretty as Xu Yulan doesn’t seem so bad to me. If her son got into trouble, I think it would only be natural to do what you can to help out. And Xu Sanguan spent good money to get her for his own. So no matter what you think, they’re still a married couple. That’s hardly what you could call ‘spending nine years together for nothing.’ ” “You think Xu Sanguan will pay up?” “No way.” “No way.” “Xu Sanguan’s been a cuckold for nine years now. But he didn’t know what was going on before. I guess it wouldn’t matter if he was still in the dark. But now that he knows, wouldn’t paying up just add insult to his injury?”

  XU SANGUAN said to Xu Yulan, “Have you heard what people are saying? Even if you haven’t heard all of it, you must have heard some. Blacksmith Fang has already come by a few times to ask you to bring the money to the hospital. So tell me, how much have you and He Xiaoyong been able to come up with? What are you crying about? What’s the use of crying? Don’t come begging to me. If it had been Erle or Sanle who’d gotten into trouble, I’d do everything in my power. Hell, I would willingly wipe Blacksmith Fang’s ass for him. But Yile isn’t my son, I raised him for nine years, and for what? All for nothing. How much of my own money have I spent on him? I’ve been kind enough not to demand that He Xiaoyong pay me for what he owes. Haven’t you heard what they’re saying? They’re saying that I’m a good man, that I’m generous, that if it was someone else in my position, He Xiaoyong would already have been beaten within an inch of his life, not once but several times over. So don’t ask me to talk it over, because this has nothing whatsoever to do with me. This is a He family affair. Haven’t you heard what they’re saying? Wouldn’t paying up just add insult to injury? . . . All right already, stop crying, it’s driving me crazy, the way you’re always crying. All right, I give up. Forget it. Go see He Xiaoyong. You can tell him that we’ve been together almost ten years. You can tell him that Yile’s thought of me as his dad for almost as long. That’s why I’m allowing him to stay here. And why I’ll agree to be responsible for raising him from now on. But only if he pays what he owes this one time. Just this once. He has to pay up, if only just this once. Otherwise I’ll have no face left at all. Why am I letting that bastard off so damn easy?”