The Dragon's Village: An Autobiographical Novel of Revolutionary China (33 page)

Later I was writing at my rickety table when my pencil snapped and I couldn't find my pencil sharpener.

“Da Niang,” I called. “Can you lend me a small knife? I want to sharpen my pencil.”

“Yes, but it's blunt.”

“Let me see.” I took the knife from her hand. “It won't do much good.”

“What are you writing?”

“I'm copying an urgent report. It says that investigations in other areas have turned up many cases of sabotage.” I paused for a moment and looked at her. “Here in Longxiang we know that there must be similar trickery going on behind our backs, but it baffles us that we haven't discovered a single instance of the most common kind of such trickery—fake land deeds.”

“What is a fake land deed?” she asked innocently.

“Haven't you ever heard about them?”

“No.”

“Well, it's like this. In order to cover up their real holdings, some landlords have hurriedly deeded land to poor peasants. They ‘give' a few
mu
of choice land to an accomplice who, when the land registration starts, will declare this to be his property.” The pencil point broke again. “Drat. And just when I'm in a hurry too.”

“And later, the landlords will take back the land? Will they?” She seemed seriously concerned. “That's our trouble, the poor people's trouble. We are so easily deceived!”

“The landlords are not stupid. They won't take back the land. Later on, when the land reform is over, they hope to get a large part of the harvest from this land. They will let the peasant they have duped keep just a bit more of the harvest than the former tenant had been entitled to keep.”

She frowned and brooded for a minute. “If that peasant refused to go along with the landlord, he could get his own land in the land reform and then he needn't share his harvest with any landlord.”

“But he got hooked up with the landlord before the work team arrived and he doesn't believe he will be pardoned if he confesses. All in all he trusts his old master more than he does us.” I finished the sentence for her.

“He is stupid. However, I think you're right. Stupid people are always stubborn.” She pursed her lips in an indignant sneer.

“What shall I do with this pencil? We want to turn in this report as soon as possible and get the county leadership to send someone to strengthen our work team. Actually, I already know who will come. She is a really smart girl.”

“Smarter than you?”

“Smarter and tougher. She'll leave no stone unturned, until she finds out everything.”

She gave me a slow, ambiguous glance and asked, “Have you got another pencil?”

“Yes.”

“You go on copying with that one. I'll sharpen the knife
first and then sharpen this pencil for you. I can sharpen the pencils by turns. Will that help you to finish copying the report more quickly?” She was delighted with her solution and gave me a heartening smile. I went on writing.

Some time later I jumped to my feet when I heard Da Niang talking to someone. But it was Xiu-ying, her hair in disarray, her face tearful and drawn. Her hands nervously fingered the hem of her jacket.

“I'm in terrible trouble. I want your advice,” she cried.

I already had more worries than I could cope with. How could I attend to all this at once?

“I came in late last night after the meeting. Now Father is furious. Ling-ling, he is arranging to marry me off! He says that he can't control me, so he wants my future husband to beat me, tame me, and make me bear children. After that, he says, I will behave as a decent girl should.”

The murder had reactivated all that was feudal and backward in the village. A number of peasants, terrorized, were beating a retreat. Xiu-ying's father felt the ill wind blowing and was borne along by it.

“Xiu-ying, it depends entirely on you, yourself. The new marriage law states that you and only you have the right to decide whom you will marry. If you give in, your father can say that you agree with his arrangements. But once you say no, it's against the law to marry you off against your will. Make that clear to your father.”

“I could never accuse my own father of wrongdoing,” she cried in distress. Her eyes filled with tears. “Father gave me my life. He worked and sweated like a slave to rear me. I am grateful to him. To accuse him in public.… No. I could never do that.”

“Xiu-ying, I don't know what's at the back of your father's mind. You'll have to puzzle that out yourself. What does your mother say?”

“Mother wants to consult relatives and friends. She'll find out whether the young man is a decent sort or not. Mother says now that I'm a cadre with some education I can make a better marriage, even though I have no dowry.”

“Xiu-ying, use your own judgment.”

“Mother says that I have only one pair of eyes and that I won't be able to see through sham. They've got many pairs of eyes, so they can rightly size up any young man at a glance.”

“That could be true,” I said feebly.

She turned her face to me, looking for advice, for reassurance, for support. But what advice could I give her? Should I tell her truly that this was only the beginning of her troubles? The more she strove for her ideal, the more problems she would have.

Xiu-ying took a deep breath and then blurted out, “Mother has already consulted our relatives and friends. The young man's family owns a shop in the county town. He's had a few years of education and is going to find a job in Xian where his eldest brother is working in a factory. Several families have sent go-betweens to make inquiries, but his family has turned them all down. They want a daughter-in-law who has had some modern education.”

I uttered an annoyed exclamation. Was it Xiu-ying's father or mother who was planning to cash in on her new career? A new, unfamiliar silence came between us.

“I've met him.” Her voice was almost inaudible. “No, not alone. His uncle and aunt and my parents were present too.” Her face burned red with embarrassment.

“So you're engaged!”

“No. I asked a few questions about the new ways of living. His answers were not as much to my liking as I had hoped. I told him he'd have to wait while I thought things over.”

It was hard to tell if Xiu-ying was being very modern or if she was using feminine wiles and playing coy. She was making the most eligible bachelor in the village await her pleasure.

“He will be your stepping-stone to Xian,” I commented flatly.

Xiu-ying took a hesitant step towards the door.

Though I made no move to stop her, she sensed that there was more to say. She squatted down by the door. Her arms held her knees and her chin rested against them.
She gazed at the toes of her own slippers, speechless and motionless.

“Xiu-ying, can you hold out until after the land has been shared out? You'll have more time then to handle your problem.”

“Last night I came home late. It wasn't the first time. Father was afraid for me—” She didn't finish the sentence, but raised her eyes and looked at me appealingly. “He wants me to stay at home, and as long as necessary pretend that I am ill. But I don't want to leave you people in the lurch.”

I gnawed on my thumbnail. I would go to the district town myself to seek out Wang Sha and get advice on our next move. This sally by Xiu-ying's father was no accident. Something weighty had to be done to restrain the gathering counterattack of the landlords and all who wanted the old ways preserved.

When Xiu-ying had gone, I told Da Niang, “I'm going to the district center.”

She shook her head in disapproval. “You shouldn't run around so by yourself. My dear child, I'm like an ant in a deep, hot pot, knocking about right and left when you don't come home in time. It's too far—more than ten miles. Do you know, in all my life I have been there only twice.”

“Da Niang, something is on your mind.” I had caught more than she had meant to convey in her words. I spoke in a low voice to show that I would respect her confidence.

She looked at me with her one sound eye. It was directed to my face, but it was seeing something else. A moment later, she woke as if from a dream and asked softly and dreamily, “What did you say?”

“Do you trust us?” I asked her. “Do you trust us?”

“They are brutal …” she stuttered.

“Who are they?” I asked, leaning forward to catch her words.

“The landlords.”

“Landlord Chi?”

“No, no. My old master is not too bad.”

“Da Niang, from now on you have no old master.” Why did she hasten to defend Chi?

“The worst of them are not in our village. But if you go to town you may run into them,” she said urgently. “Don't go.” She would say no more.

I ignored her warning; indeed, now I felt it was even more important that I contact Wang Sha as soon as possible.

Midway on the road I met Shen. He was coming from the district town office but hadn't seen Wang Sha or gotten any word from him. Strange. I grew more apprehensive. I told him about Xiu-ying's troubles and urged him to be vigilant.

“Who do you think is behind this change of feeling in the township?” I asked him.

For answer he raised his head and, just when I thought he was going to say something enlightening, gave a prodigious sneeze.

“Wrap yourself up warmly,” he said. “The weather is treacherous.”

It was late afternoon by the time I reached the outskirts of the district town. The street stalls had packed up for the day. Only a few shops were still doing business. Not much had changed openly since I had first seen it three months before. The only spot of bright color came from the new bookshop. A naked electric bulb shone a glaring light on its neat green-painted shelves packed tight with pamphlets, magazines, and books. It also threw its light across the entrance of the wineshop next door.

A man stepped out of the dimly lit wineshop. He opened a pack of cigarettes with a flourish, took one out, and lit it with a match, cupping his hands around it to shield it from the light breeze. The little finger was missing from his left hand. So that was why Da Niang was worried about me! Landlord Chi was here.

Chi was tough. If he wanted to use violence against me I was no match for him, but I had taken him on before and I
put on a bold front. There was no alternative. Seeing me, he threw the still burning match in my direction. It fell near my feet and spluttered out. Without looking at him, pretending I had noticed nothing, I walked on slowly, as if taking my time.

Up the road, the only occupant of the district town office was a local county cadre. Wang Sha, he told me, was not in the town.

“He came here for a while and then hurried off. I think he went back to Ma Li's village.”

The young cadre tried to dissuade me from traveling on further that evening. “By the time you get there, Wang Sha may have left already. He said something about visiting a few places.”

“If I leave now, maybe I could catch him there.”

“Hold on. I'll be back in a minute.” He went to arrange for a peasant militiaman to accompany me at least part of the way beyond the border of the village. After that I would be on my own. We couldn't have every cadre in the countryside going around with a bodyguard.

I hurried to reach Ma Li's village before nightfall, but the sudden gulps of cold air into my lungs brought on a fit of painful coughing. The dun-colored late fall had passed into grey winter. The mornings and evenings were cold. Noontime temperatures went up but never caused a thaw. Dressed warmly for the morning cold, I sometimes grew overheated at midday without noticing it. In this way I had caught a cold in the last few days, but restless energy drove me on. The coughing grew worse. I had to sit down until it was over. But when I got up to walk again, I felt as if I had been drained of energy. After dragging on a bit, I was convulsed with coughing again and spat out bloody phlegm.

The moon, shining dimly through the clouds, gave just enough light to see my way by. I could see nothing clearly, but I sensed what was there. The scene of the murder went round and round in my head, transforming everything around me into something sinister and menacing. I heard
the sound of weeping. A lonely ghost complaining? Or a landlord's bully trying to panic me before he made his attack? In that eerie light my fevered imagination told me that anything was possible.

The old wives say that a ghost always appears when you least expect it. When I was past the place where the sound of weeping came from, a face deathly white and streaked with blood suddenly appeared right before my eyes. The scream I suppressed hit my heart like a hammer. My knees went weak. I collapsed on the ground and for a few moments, although I was conscious, I didn't know what was going on around me.

Incongruously, out of this haze I heard a childish voice whimper, “I didn't do it.” He was still crying in breathless gasps. “They painted my face!”

“Who are they?” I asked through my coughs.

“The other kids.”

“Oh …” Another fit of coughing ended my unfinished sentence. Every cough now hurt me so much that I stuffed a handful of damp weeds into my mouth and chewed it to soothe my dry throat.

I gave the child a piece of paper from my notebook. He spat on it and used it to wipe his face so that at least he would look less like a ghost when he presented himself at home. It seemed that we were not far from the village. A few moments later I was in Ma Li's little cottage.

“Wang Sha is making the rounds of all the work team units. He will soon be back in Longxiang,” Ma Li told me. “But you've caught cold. Let me boil some hot water.” The kettle was soon rattling as steam billowed out of its spout and from under its lid.

The murder had deeply shocked Ma Li. She looked like a different person. She was listless now. She gazed at the kettle for quite a while and then with an effort roused herself to take it off the fire.