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

her in bed, telling her that now she was not the wife of a farmer but the wife of a government official. Darky did not feel the benefit of his being a cadre; on the contrary, she suffered more. In the darkness he called out the name of the prettiest maiden in the town and forced Darky to answer his cry. Darky was livid: “She is herself, and I am myself. Go and fuck her, if you dare!”
    Eventually her angry challenge was accepted. One night her husband did not return home. Two days later, Darky went to the school; in her husband’s room she saw the prettiest woman in the town. Her husband claimed that they were discussing education.
    Maybe these two really are learning together, Darky thought. Maybe I shouldn’t interrupt. On leaving, she said to her husband, “You’ve been here for several days. The room is damp—you should buy some charcoal to keep it warm it at night.”
    For a month or two, her husband stayed away. At first she felt relieved, relaxed; she enjoyed getting a good night’s sleep. But eventually she began to feel lonely. When she saw her husband she noted that, like a lamp burning too much oil, he was getting thinner day by day. She started to feel upset. She went to the school again, onlyto find that her husband and the beautiful woman were still “learning” together. With no hard evidence, Darky returned home in low spirits.
    At the school there was a workman from West Plain who cooked lunch for the teachers in the daytime and guarded the doors in the evening after the teachers left. Sitting on a stool at the school entrance, he listened to a radio at the maximum volume, his cigarette twinkling in the darkness. Darky became acquainted with him during her frequent visits to the school. His name was Lai Shun. He had a mole between his brows and appeared honest and well behaved but miserably poor. On his feet were a pair of yellow rubber sandals that sloshed as if filled with water.
    Whenever Darky came to the school, Lai Shun would shout, “Come here!” He’d offer her his low stool and let her enjoy the music on his radio.
    On one visit, Darky said, “Lai Shun, you’re good at making ends meet. You earn a state salary. But you wear these rubber shoes all the time. Don’t they hurt your feet?”
    As shy as a cat, Lai Shun drew his feet back. “It’s not that I don’t want to be decently dressed. I earn only twenty-eight yuan each month, and I have an eighty-year-old, muddleheaded grandpa, a mum who’s an invalid, and three younger sisters in school. I’m not as lucky and happy as your husband!”
    “Oh, your grandpa’s still alive?” With three elders in the family, Lai Shun would be in debt for half his lifetime in order to afford three coffins. To change the subject, she asked about his wife.
    Lai Shun snorted. “How can I get a wife? The year before last, I was engaged to a girl, but then she broke it off and married a cripple whose father suddenly became rich. I left home in a fury and came here to work.”
    Darky heaved a sigh for him.
    Three days later, Darky took a pair of cloth shoes from the bottom of a chest and brought them to Lai Shun. He took it as a joke,speaking favorably of her neat stitches but not daring to sincerely accept them.
    “You have high taste, Lai Shun!” Darky said. “Do you mind that they’re not made from corduroy? I made them for my husband, who wore them for a day and then put on leather shoes the next day. Try them on. Do they fit?”
    After washing his feet in a basin, Lai Shun squeezed his long, thick feet into the shoes. Darky laughed heartily, suggesting he could make do with them by cutting the buckle with scissors. Lai Shun agreed but didn’t follow her suggestion. After work, he put on the new shoes and skipped around like he was doing a folk dance.
    On hearing that Darky had given his new shoes to Lai Shun, her small husband shrugged. “Lai Shun is unlucky,” he said. “He’s over thirty years old, but still a virgin.”
    Darky