Chronicle of a Blood Merchant by Yu Hua, Andrew F. Jones

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