Selected Works of Modern and Contemporary Chinese Literature (Volume 1, Part 1)

Author: Qian Gurong / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2003-04-01
Features: [Excerpt:] The original field in March has turned green, like lichen, showing through here and there. The grass on the outskirts must twist and turn several times before it can push through the ground. The grass at the top still holds the shell that has burst open, sending out more than an inch of sprout, happily piercing the soil. A cowherd, while lifting up a piece of tile under the wall, found a blade of grass. The children went home and told their mothers, "Today, the grass has sprouted!" The mother exclaimed, "That must be in the sunlit place!" White, stone-like seeds of vegetables rolled on the ground as wild children picked them up one by one. Dandelions sprouted, sheep bleated, and crows flew around the poplar groves. The weather grew warmer day by day, and every inch of the days held meaning. Poplar flowers flew all over the sky like cotton. People went out, catching them with their hands, and the poplar flowers clung to them. Grass and cow dung lay scattered on the road, emitting a strong odor. In the distance, the sound of stones hitting boats could be heard, echoing loudly. The river ice broke, ice chunks piled on top of each other, struggling and flowing downstream. Crows perched on the ice, searching for small fish to eat, or perhaps hibernating frogs. The weather suddenly grew hot, they said, "The second and eighth months are like a small spring," but the cold weather would still come, but these days were indeed hot. Spring, with a strong call, moved from one end of the small city to the other, filled with poplar flowers. Before the elms turned yellow, the streets and alleys were filled with them, flying like falling snowflakes. Spring had come. Everyone seemed to be waiting for a great upheaval, one that would happen tonight. Everyone carried a sense of guilt, wanting to participate in the attempt at liberation. Spring blew into everyone's hearts, carrying a call, carrying a temptation.
I had an aunt, and she was probably in love with my cousin. My aunt was a close relative—she was the sister of my mother. But this aunt was not my biological aunt; she was the daughter of my stepmother's stepmother. So, she had some blood connection to my stepmother, though not really. Because my grandmother came to my grandfather's house only after she had become a widow. Cui Yi was the daughter of my grandmother, who was born in another family. Cui Yi had a younger sister, two years younger than her, probably in her late teens, so Cui Yi was also in her late teens. Cui Yi was not particularly beautiful, but she was graceful, walking quietly and elegantly, and speaking with a clear, calm tone. When she reached for cherries, her fingertips seemed to pity the cherries, gently pinching them as if afraid of damaging them. If someone called her from behind, if she was walking, she would stop; if she was eating, she would put down her bowl and turn her head toward her shoulder, without turning her whole body, and consciously close her lips as if she had something to say but couldn’t.
Cui Yi’s younger sister, whose name I forgot, was a loud and cheerful girl, not very meticulous, completely different from her sister. She didn’t pay much attention to colors—whatever was in fashion in the market, she didn’t hesitate to choose. As soon as she finished making a dress, she would wear it immediately. When she went to visit relatives, if people praised her dress, she would always say, "It’s just the same, I have another one for my sister."
When I went to my grandfather’s house, there were no girls my age to play with, so whenever I went, my grandmother would call Cui Yi to keep me company. Cui Yi lived in the back yard of my grandfather’s house, separated by a wooden wall. If she heard me call, she would come right over. Although my grandfather’s house and Cui Yi’s house were only separated by a wooden wall, there was no gate connecting them, so I had to go around to the main street to enter from the front door. Sometimes, Cui Yi would come to the wooden wall first, wave at me through the gap, and then go back to dress up before coming around to her mother’s house from the main street.
Cui Yi liked me very much because I studied at school, while she didn’t. She thought she understood everything better than me, so she often asked me for advice on various matters. At night, when I stayed at my grandfather’s house, she would stay with me too. We would talk until midnight, and for some reason, we never seemed to run out of things to talk about. At first, we discussed how to dress, what colors to wear, what materials to choose. Sometimes, during the day, she would buy a pin and take it out at night to ask me if it was pretty. It was about fifteen years ago, and we didn’t know how to dress a woman in other places, but almost everyone in this city wore a large, fluffy shawl tied with a rope—blue, purple, or various colors, but mostly maroon. Almost everyone on the street wore a maroon shawl. Despite so many other colors, maroon was the most popular. Cui Yi’s younger sister had one, Cui Yi had one, and almost every one of my classmates had one. Even my grandmother, who wasn’t very particular, wore one, though hers was blue, not daring to use the popular maroon one. She thought she had to give way to the younger generation.
At that time, it was also fashionable to wear rope shoes. Cui Yi’s younger sister quickly bought and wore them. Because she was very careless, she didn’t care whether they were good or bad, as long as others had them, she had to have them too. It was as if the clothes wore her rather than she wore the clothes. She was always fully equipped. Her rope shoes, once bought and worn, ran across the floor. In no time, one of the pom-poms on each shoe had fallen off, jumping up with only a string attached, otherwise it would have dropped. It was quite amusing, like a large red date tied to her feet. Because her shoes were also maroon. Everyone laughed at her shoes, which had broken as soon as she bought them.
Cui Yi didn’t buy any. She hesitated for a long time. Whenever something new came out, she wasn’t quick to buy it. Perhaps she liked it from the start, but it seemed as if she opposed it, as if she didn’t accept it at all. She had to wait until many people started buying it, and only then did she show a hint of interest. For example, with rope shoes, at night she talked to me and asked for my opinion. I said they were pretty, and many of my classmates had bought them too. The next day, Cui Yi asked me to go shopping with her, but didn’t tell me what she wanted to buy. After entering the shop, she spent a long time looking at other things before finally asking about the rope shoes.