Old Land, New Tales: Twenty Short Stories by Writers of the Shaanxi Region in China by Chen Zhongshi, Jia Pingwa Page A

those men of the mountains into a different race. They cursed wantonly and drew Mu Du to join them in drink. Since Mu Du was not a good drinker, he would turn and shout to Darky for help—and thus Darky would join the company of men with strong arms, while Mu Du, tittering and smirking, urged her to imbibe. The drunkards would curse Mu Du, calling him a lucky dog for marrying such a good-looking and competent wife. Their envious taunts made Mu Du feel proud and vain; he’d boast about his macho prowess.
    The restaurant became well known near and far. Many people had heard about Darky, and soon some of those good-for-nothings began to make a move on her.
    One day, after the restaurant’s rush hour, Mu Du went home to look after his hunchbacked dad. Darky rinsed the noodle board and had just sat down to rest for a moment when her small ex-husband peeped into the restaurant from the gate. When Darky saw him, he assumed a mock-serious manner, pretending to nonchalantly scrape his fingernails with a nail file.
    “What are you doing here?” Darky said. “Service is finished.”
    The small man replied, “Don’t turn against me—I was your man once! So, you’re getting along quite well?”
    Darky shrugged. “I won’t wave the stick.” She lowered her head and cleaned the board again. She thought he had left, but when she raised her head she saw that he was still there.
    Halfway over the threshold, he looked attentively at something in his hand, asking, “What’s this?”
    Without thinking, she replied, “What?”
    The small man stepped in and opened his hand. It was a blue quartz digital watch; two black dots flashed continuously on its screen. “Want it?” the small man asked. “Take it!”
    “Pooh.” Darky pushed him out of the gate, spat, and then closed the gate tightly.
    Nevertheless, the credit agent often came to the restaurant and ordered meals to entertain his guests. Darky treated him in a professional manner—business was business. As for Mu Du, he would offer the agent a seat and some tea with a flattering demeanor. After dinner, Mu Du would put his own tobacco casket on the table and invite the agent to smoke. When the credit agent asked about their business, Mu Du would describe everything in detail, stressing that his small business was nothing compared to the agent’s income from his factories. Darky found Mu Du’s flattery contemptible and told him so. Mu Du replied, “After all, he is a big shot in our area!” Hearing that, for the first time in her life Darky spat in his face.
    Mu Du and Darky continued to run their business successfully, and soon they were making a good profit. Unfortunately, the hunchbacked father’s illness became serious. After lying in bed for half a month without food, he came to the end of his time in this human world. The couple closed the restaurant for ten days, had a decent cry in mourning, and buried the dead man. Although the hunchbacked father had been impoverished, he’d been upright and unyielding in temperament throughout his life, and he’d died a clean death. He left no family obligations, except that now one of them had to watch the restaurant and the other the old house. Gradually Mu Du became indifferent to bedroom things.
    Lai Shun continued to do odd jobs at the school—heating up the water, doing the cooking, ringing the bell. Whenever he saw the small man and the mayor’s daughter, happily hugging and kissing each other with soft murmurs, he suffered pains and itches as if he had a grain of sand in his eyes. (When the couple was on bad terms, they overturned desks and chairs and hurled things like pillows, teapots, and underpants out the window.)
    The couple reminded Lai Shun of his affair with Darky. He was unable to stop thinking about her. When Mu Du’s father passed away,Lai Shun heaved a deep sigh in his innermost heart. He bought some touch papers and burned them in front of the dead man, weeping bitterly. Seeing him crying, Mu Du was