TRANSLATED BY GEORGE HAYDEN
CHARACTERS
LIN ZHICHENG 林志成, sublessor of the lane house, thirty-six years old
YANG CAIYU 杨彩玉, LIN ZHICHENG’s wife, thirty-two years old
KUANG FU 匡复, YANG CAIYU’s former husband, thirty-four years old
BAOZHEN 葆珍, YANG CAIYU’s daughter by KUANG FU, twelve years old
HUANG JIAMEI 黄家楣, garret tenant, twenty-eight years old
GUIFEN 桂芬, HUANG’s wife, twenty-four years old
HUANG’S FATHER 黄父, fifty-eight years old
SHI XIAOBAO 施小宝, tenant of the front room upstairs, twenty-seven years old
“LITTLE TIANJIN” 小天津, SHI XIAOBAO’s pimp, in his thirties
ZHAO ZHENYU 赵振宇, tenant of the scullery, forty-eight years old
ZHAO’S WIFE 赵妻, forty-two years old
A XIANG 阿香, the Zhaos’ daughter, five years old
A NIU 阿牛, the Zhaos’ son, thirteen years old
LI LINGBEI 李陵碑, tenant of the rear room upstairs, fifty-four years old
OTHERS: secondhand goods vendor, vegetable peddler, restaurant delivery boy, et al.
(The time is April 1937, on a day during the rainy season. The setting is the same throughout the play.
The curtain rises on a cross-section of a “lane house” typical of Shanghai’s east side. On the right is an open back gate through which people can be seen walking along the lane. Adjoining the gate is the scullery, with a water faucet and a cement water basin downstage. Slightly beneath the open window of the garret above the scullery is a galvanized steel awning that, on rainy days, shelters the women washing clothes and rice around the basin. At this window hang flat baskets used for washing rice, steaming racks, and laundered diapers, left there to dry. To the left of the scullery is a steep staircase, its edges worn down in the middle through constant use and its bottom steps patched with boards. A door to the garret is to the right of the stairway landing, and over the landing hangs a five-watt lightbulb, with only half its shade remaining. A banister leading to the front room upstairs is visible to the left of the landing. Slats partition off a “rear room” to the right of the stairs, and when no light is on, nothing can be seen in it. Further to the left on the ground floor and separated by a wall of boards is the parlor with its long and narrow French windows. Furthest left is a small courtyard and half the front gate. This courtyard, like the one in the back, is covered by a galvanized steel awning, and beneath it, dilapidated furniture, a small cookstove, plank tables, and such are piled every which way.
In all, five households occupy this two-story house. The sublessor, LIN ZHICHENG, and his family occupy the parlor. The scullery makes up the room of the primary school teacher, ZHAO ZHENYU. Through the window and doorway of the scullery can be seen an iron bed at a right angle to the window and, close to the window, a square table and a small cot across from it. On the wall are hung a cabinet, hamper, and other items, and, by the entrance, there are a coal cookstove set on a pedestal built of broken bricks, a wok, and other cooking utensils. HUANG JIAMEI, once an employee of a foreign-owned company but now unemployed, lives in the garret. A kerosene stove is on the stair landing; here his family does their cooking. The upstairs front room is where SHI XIAOBAO lives alone; she does no cooking but has lunch and dinner sent over from a caterer. The attic, not visible to the audience, is the home of an old newspaper vendor who drinks heavily from time to time and is a bit eccentric. His fondness for singing the line from the traditional Peking opera Li Ling bei [Li Ling’s Monument] “When I gaze on the lovely child, I can hold back no longer” has earned him the name of the play as his sobriquet.
The parlor, as the residence of the sublessor, is furnished with somewhat more care than the other rooms. A desk and a glass bookshelf, now converted to a clothes cabinet, show that LIN ZHICHENG was once, perhaps, a writer.
It is the rainy season and uncomfortably stuffy. From the opening curtain to closing curtain the fine rain rarely stops. Heavier rain can be heard occasionally, gurgling in the drainpipes and pouring off the eaves, but then, a minute later perhaps, a pallid sun may thread its way through the clouds. The barometer is low and the air is very heavy, which has its effect on the emotions of the tenants. Their actions and speech reveal the depression, irritability, and anxiety they all share, so that the slightest provocation can at any moment trigger an outburst of excessive pent-up anger.
The time is shortly before eight o’clock in the morning. Since it is raining, the rooms are very dark. YANG CAIYU is in the process of tidying up the apartment and the breakfast dishes. BAOZHEN sits alone at the table, playing a toy piano and singing softly, her eyes intent on some books.
At the back gate, ZHAO ZHENYU’s wife, A XIANG close by her side, is buying vegetables. ZHAO ZHENYU, wearing his eyeglasses, is concentrating on his newspaper, and A NIU, about to leave for school, is gathering up his schoolbooks.
The constant noise of peddlers and their loud chatter comes from the front and back lanes.)
BAOZHEN (sings):
… But let me ask you this:
From one bolt of cloth, how much can you earn—
(The melody is not quite right, and so she starts over.)
… But let me ask you this:
From one bolt of cloth, how much can you earn?
Once they have your money,
Once they have your money.
They’ll turn it into bullets right away …
YANG CAIYU: Baozhen! It’s getting late!
BAOZHEN (wrinkling up her mouth and paying no attention):
… Once they have your money,
They’ll turn it into bullets right away,
And one by one, one by one—
They’ll get you right in the heart …
YANG CAIYU: Listen to me; it’s getting late!
BAOZHEN: But I haven’t learned the song right yet, and I have to teach it after school.
YANG CAIYU: You’re going to teach something when you don’t even know it yourself?
(Picks up a piece of clothing from the bed) When you take off your clothes, you wouldn’t dream of hanging them up nicely, oh no, you just toss them on the bed. Twelve years old now, and you can’t even take care of yourself, much less teach anyone else. What kind of a “little teacher” are you going to make?
BAOZHEN (puts her books in a stack): That’s for the laundry!
YANG CAIYU: Laundry? Well, you have all the answers, don’t you? It would never get dry with all this rain, even if I did launder it.
(She hangs up the clothing.)
BAOZHEN (runs over and quickly takes it off the hook, and then throws it into the leftover water in the washbasin): It’s unsanitary to wear dirty clothes!
YANG CAIYU (both amused and angry): I need you to tell me that, do I?
(She goes to the courtyard with the washbasin.)
BAOZHEN (packs her book bag): A Niu!
(She picks up the book bag and walks toward the scullery.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (offstage): If it’s for sale, then sell it and be done with it; if it isn’t, then haul it away!
(She enters in a huff, carrying a grocery basket. A vegetable peddler, counting the coins in his hands and wearing an expression of enormous grievance, forces his way through the gate and speaks with a tone of desperation.)
PEDDLER: All right, have it your way, two and a half cents an ounce; even that’s three cents off. With the basket it’s one pound, two ounces; without the seven-ounce basket it’s eleven ounces, twenty-seven and a half …
ZHAO’S WIFE: Seven ounces? What are you talking about? (Dumps the Indian rice stalks out of the basket and weighs the basket on the scales) Looks like eight and a half to me …
PEDDLER: Hey, look …
ZHAO’S WIFE (goes through the motions of weighing the basket, considers her point made, then heads indoors): If you’re going to sell it, sell it; if you’re not, then take it out of here!
PEDDLER: All right, all right, two cents more …
ZHAO’S WIFE (turns around and feels in her pocket, hesitates on purpose, then grudgingly hands him two coins; when he picks up his carrying basket and is just leaving, she quickly snatches a stalk from the basket): One more!
PEDDLER (flustered): Oh no you don’t …
ZHAO’S WIFE (slams the gate, A XIANG trying to help by propping the gate closed with her body): You vegetable peddlers never stop arguing! (Turns her head and says to herself) After half a month or so of rain, it’s getting so you can’t even afford spinach or rice stalks anymore!
PEDDLER (offstage): Hey! Hey! (Pushes on the gate a few times, then gives up and, with a long, quavering voice) Ehh … rice stalks, oh, cabbage for sale …
(ZHAO ZHENYU gives his wife a glance and a slight smile, then quickly turns back to the newspaper.)
BAOZHEN (loudly): A Niu, have you learned the song I taught you yesterday?
A NIU (sticks his head out of the scullery): You’re not supposed to call me that; you have to call me Zhao Zhen!
BAOZHEN: I’ll call you that if I want to. A Niu, A Niu, Niu …1
A NIU: So, you’re really going to call me that, are you?
BAOZHEN: Well, weren’t you born in the year of the ox?
A NIU: Then I’ll call you something! I’ll call you A Tuo, for stepchild!2
BAOZHEN (urgently): Zhao Zhen!
A NIU: Ha, ha, ha!
(He ducks back inside and grabs his book bag. YANG CAIYU is just coming out with her grocery basket; BAOZHEN pouts and gives her mother a look.)
YANG CAIYU: What are you—
BAOZHEN (pointing to A NIU): A Niu said it again; he called me—
YANG CAIYU (softly but with force, as a shadow passes across her face): Don’t pay any attention to him. Go to school! Do you have your snack money?
(BAOZHEN shakes her head. YANG CAIYU goes back inside, gets some money, and gives it to her. At this moment LIN ZHICHENG enters through the front gate. His face wooden, as if beset with countless injuries, without a sound he crams the door key of a spring lock into his pocket. He takes a glass of water from the table and gulps it down, then flops down on the bed.)
(A bit surprised) What’s wrong, aren’t you feeling well?
(Silence.)
You aren’t even changing your clothes … (Hands the house robe to him, but LIN ZHICHENG says nothing; angrily) What is it? You, always taking your anger out on me; well, I won’t have it!
(On seeing that YANG CAIYU is upset, LIN ZHICHENG sits up in order to change his clothes. He is about to say something but stops short. YANG CAIYU ignores him, picks up the grocery basket, and leaves with BAOZHEN, closing the door between the parlor and the back room on the way out. LIN ZHICHENG, after changing, plunks himself down and goes to sleep.)
A NIU (seeing that BAOZHEN is leaving for school, shouts): Wait up, Baozhen! (Turns back to his mother) Mom, five cents for pencils.
ZHAO’S WIFE: Don’t have it!
A NIU: The teacher says I have to have it!
ZHAO’S WIFE: That may be what he says, but I say you don’t!
(ZHAO ZHENYU, laughing, hands A NIU some money from his pocket.)
A NIU (to BAOZHEN): I still don’t know the last two lines …
BAOZHEN: The last part … (sings) “One by one, one by one …”
A NIU: Okay, one more time …
(They both start to leave.)
YANG CAIYU (after them): Baozhen! Come right home after school. If you run around like crazy outside and your dad finds out, you’ll …
BAOZHEN (irritated): What “dad”?
(She exits. GUIFEN, on her way back from buying groceries, comes face-to-face with YANG CAIYU; ZHAO’S WIFE steals a glance at YANG CAIYU.)
YANG CAIYU (to GUIFEN, trying to cover up): Oh, good morning!
(She leaves through the gate.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (quickly, to GUIFEN): Did you hear that?
GUIFEN: What?
ZHAO’S WIFE (she purses up her mouth in the direction of the gate, then says softly):
When they started talking about her dad, Baozhen got angry and started pouting (imitating BAOZHEN), “What ‘dad’?” Hm, times have certainly changed. Children are getting so they understand grown-up things early now; you can’t get the slightest thing past them anymore!
GUIFEN (smiling): She’s twelve or thirteen now; why shouldn’t she understand?
(She takes her vegetables out one by one near the water basin.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (cocks her ear toward the parlor, then says softly): But I hear that when Lin married her mother she was still very small.
GUIFEN: To be fair about it, Lin treats her very well indeed. I always say, a stepfather like him is pretty hard to come by these days.
ZHAO’S WIFE (breaking in): You’re so right. It’s been almost a year since we moved here, and I’ve never heard him spank her or bawl her out. Sometimes, when Lin is having a fight with her mother and gets in a fit of temper, all he has to do is look at the young girl and he won’t have anything more to say at all.
GUIFEN: Hm, I suppose that’s human nature, to treat someone who’s not your own child a little differently. What’s more, her playmates like to tease her about being a stepdaughter … (Laughs) Children are always trying to best each other.
ZHAO’S WIFE (after a pause): Well, let me tell you, when she’s talking with our A Niu and the conversation gets around to Lin, it’s always “Uncle Lin”; I’ve never heard her refer to him as “Dad.”
GUIFEN: Isn’t that because they knew each other before?
ZHAO’S WIFE: More than that; Lin and her own father were good friends, from what I hear.
GUIFEN: Oh, then why …
(Suddenly the rain, as if a thundershower, comes down in large drops.)
ZHAO’S WIFE: Ugh, the rainy season is such a nuisance, wet and stifling; you feel you’re being suffocated!
GUIFEN: Yes, with the rain never stopping, it even gets through your rubbers!
ZHAO’S WIFE (sees the fish and meat that GUIFEN is washing): Oh, you bought all that today?
(In the garret, HUANG’S FATHER coughs loudly.)
GUIFEN (gives a strained smile): Our dad’s here from the country, so we have to buy a little extra!
ZHAO’S WIFE: Oh, that’s right, I forgot—his first time in Shanghai?
(She peels a rice stalk.)
GUIFEN: Uh-huh, actually he was supposed to come last fall …
ZHAO’S WIFE: Oh (as if recalling something) he’s here to see the new grandson, right?
GUIFEN (smiles in a forced manner): He—it’s been five or six years now since we’ve visited him!
ZHAO’S WIFE: Well, he looks in good health! The big department stores on Nanjing Road—I suppose you’ve taken him to see everything?
GUIFEN: Almost everything; you know, the usual things for somebody in Shanghai for the first time.
ZHAO’S WIFE: He got back late last night. Did your husband take him to the Great World Theater?
GUIFEN: No, to somewhere close by, the movies at Eastern Sea. (Laughs spontaneously) But once the money was spent on the tickets, he didn’t like it, said people’s heads were big one minute and small the next, and as soon as he was getting the hang of what was going on, poof, everything would jump away.
ZHAO’S WIFE (agreeing): I don’t like movies, either; all that flashing makes me dizzy. Older people always like the theater; take him to The Burning of Red Lotus Temple. The end of last year, my brother took me once, and oh, it was wonderful! The costumes were fine, and the scenery was all new. When they turned the lights off, everything onstage was suddenly completely different. Right, let him have a look before he goes back to the farm, and (laughs) he may never stop talking about it for days on end.
GUIFEN: Yes, that’s what Jiamei says.
ZHAO’S WIFE: Will he be staying a few more days in Shanghai?
GUIFEN (lowers her eyes): I can’t say for sure; a few more days, I suppose.
ZHAO’S WIFE: Lucky for him! His son getting established in Shanghai, and a grandson …
GUIFEN: But … if only Jiamei had a job … (Glances at the garret, then softly) It’s what they mean when they say you don’t always know what’s going on in a family. In my father-in-law’s eyes, a life like ours must be pretty disappointing. A farming family sweats blood to raise a son and put him through college. Country people have such a narrow way of looking at things; they’re thinking, Jiamei has become a success in Shanghai and is doing something important, but … (becoming somewhat despondent in spite of herself) now that he’s come to Shanghai and seen for himself, a whole family living in a garret …
(She finishes washing the vegetables and stands up.)
ZHAO’S WIFE: Does your husband have any brothers in the country?
GUIFEN: Well, it would be nice if he did; he is the only son.
ZHAO’S WIFE (tries to offer some kind of consolation): But your husband has a lot of spirit, and the day will come when—
GUIFEN (breaks in): What good is it, when in this godforsaken Shanghai the ones without it seem to get by all right, and he, he has that bad attitude of his, won’t settle halfway on anything!
ZHAO ZHENYU (puts down his paper and, removing his glasses with one hand, rubs his eyes with the back of the other): No, no, to take it easy and settle halfway, that’s a bad attitude. Society goes bad because people go bad, and a good man starts with himself. If everyone were as serious and uncompromising as your husband—
GUIFEN (about to leave): Taking things seriously entitles you to live in a garret, is that what you mean?
ZHAO ZHENYU: No, no, that’s not what I’m getting at. All you need is a clear conscience; for example—
ZHAO’S WIFE (in exasperation): Spare us your “for examples”! If you don’t get going, you’ll miss class, that precious class of yours that’s worth a few cents an hour, and they’ll deduct something from your salary too …
ZHAO ZHENYU: Not at all. It’s quarter to eight now, and four and a half minutes is all it takes to get to school. (Turns back to GUIFEN, then earnestly) For example—
(When he looks up, he finds that GUIFEN has already gone upstairs.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (smiling scornfully): Do you think anybody wants to listen to what you have to say? If you want to talk like that, go to the classroom and give a lecture, go hoodwink the children!
ZHAO ZHENYU (undisturbed): They can listen or not, as they choose, but whether I speak or not is my business! I, I—
ZHAO’S WIFE: Fine, fine, now get going or Lin will come by soon, and you’ll never stop talking, you and your verbal diarrhea …
ZHAO ZHENYU (looks toward the parlor): Has he been on the night shift the past few days?
ZHAO’S WIFE: Day shift, night shift, what do you care?
(Outside the gate the sweet-rice peddler is heard.)
A XIANG: Mom, I want some sweet rice!
ZHAO’S WIFE (searches her pocket, apparently finds no money, and so changes her tone):
Didn’t you just have some porridge?
A XIANG: Uh-huh! I want—
ZHAO’S WIFE (exasperatedly): Wait till your dad gets rich!
(A XIANG enviously looks out the gate.
In the front room upstairs, SHI XIAOBAO has just gotten up. Her room is very dark, and, after stretching herself, she lets in some light by jerking aside the window curtain. She lights a cigarette, then opens the window, frowns, and makes a face at the rain. Taking along a thermos bottle with her, she ambles downstairs. When she reaches the garret landing, she glances through the crack in the garret door and, as if having seen something amusing, smiles to herself with pursed lips.
She is a so-called cheap modern young woman. Her hair is fashionably curled, and some makeup from the previous day remains on her sleep-filled eyes. The mandarin collar on her deep red flower-print dress is loose, and she scuffs along in her slippers. She is not really very pretty, but her eyes hold a certain charm, and there is a kind of languid grace in her walk.
She goes to the scullery entrance and casually throws away her cigarette, not yet half smoked. When ZHAO’S WIFE hears her coming down, she gives her a scathing look, then purposely averts her eyes, meanwhile energetically fanning the coal brazier and producing a straight column of white smoke.)
SHI XIAOBAO (gives ZHAO’S WIFE a glance): Oh, you’re all up so early! (Yawns) Raining again. The sound of the raindrops makes me want to stay in bed …
(She yawns.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (maliciously): Well, aren’t you the lucky one!
SHI XIAOBAO (gives her a smile): Oh, aren’t you going to school today, Mr. Zhao?
(ZHAO ZHENYU concentrates on his newspaper.)
(A bit taken aback) What’s the matter with you today? Even when people don’t speak to you, you usually have plenty to talk and laugh about anyway. Now, when I speak to you, you don’t pay any attention to me.
ZHAO ZHENYU (quickly puts down his newspaper): Ah ah, it’s you; look at this, the paper says …
SHI XIAOBAO (casually pours the leftover water out of the thermos): What does the paper say?
(The water splashes onto ZHAO’S WIFE, who shoots her a murderous glare.)
Ah, sorry!
(She leisurely opens the rear gate and goes out to get some boiled water. LIN ZHICHENG, unable to sleep, tosses and turns, finally sits up.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (on seeing his wife’s furious expression, cannot hold back): Ha, ha …
ZHAO’S WIFE (suddenly turns around): What are you laughing at?
ZHAO ZHENYU: Why can’t you ever get along with her? Here you are, living in the same house, and you start bickering the minute you lay eyes on her. It’s disgraceful!
ZHAO’S WIFE: It’s the way she acts that I can’t stand: a streetwalker pretending to be something else. The witch, her husband never around, and bringing all kinds of trashy men home with her …
(In the garret, HUANG JIAMEI coughs violently and leans halfway out the window. He is pale and emaciated, with a melancholy expression. He fans away the coal smoke with his hand and closes the window. From within comes the sound of a baby crying.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: Eh, what business is that of yours? You can’t exactly blame her, either.
Haven’t I told you? She has to eat, what with her husband roaming all over the world on a ship, Japan today, the South Seas tomorrow, America the day after that, able to come home less than three or four times a year; no resources, no ability, no way to earn a living, and you want her to be a paragon of fidelity. Now, aren’t you being a little too … too …
ZHAO’S WIFE: If you’re going to give a sermon, go to church and do it! No matter what it is, out you come with one of your long sermons. But I know you’re just sounding off. You for one have some talent and education; how are you at earning a living? Huh! Suppose I can’t get along with her; what does that have to do with you? When I talk with other people, I don’t want you butting in!
ZHAO ZHENYU: What? I … ridiculous …
(Gesticulating, he walks up to his wife and is about to make some kind of pronouncement when, at the call of a cake seller outside the gate, A XIANG runs back and interrupts.)
A XIANG: Mom, I want to buy some cake!
ZHAO’S WIFE: Are you ever full? You just …
(SHI XIAOBAO, back from getting hot water, pushes the gate open with one hand.)
SHI XIAOBAO (toward the lane): Cake, hey! (Buys several pieces, turns her head and catches sight of A XIANG’s expression, then back to the cake seller) Hey, another piece!
(To A XIANG) Come on, come on!
(A XIANG walks over to take it.)
ZHAO’S WIFE: Don’t take it.
SHI XIAOBAO (laughs): What’s the harm? Children love it.
ZHAO’S WIFE: Don’t take it! Listen to what I tell you!
(A XIANG watches her mother but still has her hand outstretched.)
SHI XIAOBAO: It doesn’t matter; go ahead.
ZHAO’S WIFE (jerks A XIANG away): Spineless little brat! Haven’t you ever had cake before?
(Face suffused with anger, she looks at SHI XIAOBAO.)
SHI XIAOBAO (raises her eyebrows): Oh, for heaven’s sake!
ZHAO’S WIFE: For heaven’s sake what?
SHI XIAOBAO: She’s just a child; why take it so seriously?
ZHAO’S WIFE: The child happens to be mine, so even if you don’t care to take it seriously, I do! I’ll tell you this: we may be poor, but we’re not about to let our children eat anything bought with dirty money!
SHI XIAOBAO (also angry now): What do you mean? Whose money is dirty?
ZHAO’S WIFE (laughs scornfully): You have to ask me that?
SHI XIAOBAO: Oh, why are you so unreasonable? You don’t even know what’s good for you, and when someone with the best of intentions—
ZHAO’S WIFE (as if spitting it out): Who needs your “best of intentions”?
SHI XIAOBAO: All right then, forget it! (Laughs) Unreasonable—(starts upstairs) idiot!
ZHAO’S WIFE (mounts one step): Who are you calling an idiot?
SHI XIAOBAO (turns back from the staircase with a look of disdain, but still smiling): You! (She skips upstairs. Just when ZHAO’S WIFE is about to say something further, HUANG’S FATHER comes down the stairs with a two-year-old child in his arm. GUIFEN, carrying dirty clothes, follows. All ZHAO’S WIFE can do at this point is spit.)
ZHAO’S WIFE: Shameless!
(HUANG’S FATHER is very much a man of the countryside; over his rough denim robe of faded blue he wears an apron. His hair and beard are grizzled. Holding his grandson with an air of satisfaction, he descends cautiously, step-by-step, as if unfamiliar with the narrow staircase. With a glance of curiosity toward SHI XIAOBAO, GUIFEN speaks to her father-in-law in a loud voice.)
GUIFEN: You can take a walk in the lane, but don’t let him near its entrance to the street. There are cars out there.
HUANG’S FATHER (waves eagerly to ZHAO ZHENYU and points to the child): He wants me to carry him out on the street. Ha, ha, Shanghai does not let you walk anywhere you please; now, if we were in the country …
ZHAO ZHENYU (joining in the conversation): Do you find Shanghai more interesting than the countryside?
HUANG’S FATHER (not having heard ZHAO ZHENYU’s question): A few days ago he was bewildered by seeing me, but after a while he started to get used to me around here! Look how he always wants me to carry him.
ZHAO ZHENYU (at a loss): Hm?
GUIFEN (to ZHAO ZHENYU): He’s hard of hearing; he didn’t hear you.
ZHAO ZHENYU (nods, then loudly): Do you find Shanghai more interesting than the countryside?
HUANG’S FATHER: The countryside? Oh, oh, I’ll be staying a few more days; Jiamei and she (points to GUIFEN) won’t let me leave. It’s all right, though; the silkworms have been taken care of. We don’t make silk ourselves, so once we’ve sold off the cocoons, we don’t have anything more to do …
ZHAO ZHENYU: Hm, how interesting. (To GUIFEN) How do you carry on a conversation with him? Can’t he hear anything at all?
GUIFEN (laughing): You shout or make hand signals!
(HUANG’S FATHER, carrying the boy, pushes open the gate and steps through, and A XIANG, seizing this opportunity, follows along behind.)
(Runs up) Hey (loudly), don’t buy him anything to eat! He’ll get a stomachache.
(Turns back in, speaking to herself) He loves him so, he’ll give him anything at all to eat, and I just can’t get it across to him. (To ZHAO’S WIFE) Still, there’s something to be said for his being hard of hearing! We can keep unpleasant things from him; even now he has no inkling whatever that Jiamei is out of a job. We’ve told him that it’s examination time at school and classes have been out these past few days. He doesn’t understand anyway, so …
ZHAO ZHENYU: You’ve told him your husband teaches school? So we’re colleagues, are we?
GUIFEN (with a forlorn laugh): Jiamei told him he teaches at a YMCA night school, and he believed every word of it. The other day when we were on a streetcar going by the front gate of the YMCA, he started shouting, “Ah! that’s Jiamei’s school,” as if he owned the whole building. That gave everybody on the streetcar a good laugh!
(She starts washing the clothing.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: Ha, ha, ha, that’s the way to look at it: I own the whole building! Ha …
(The sun suddenly appears. LIN ZHICHENG paces back and forth, then pushes open the French windows.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (hearing these sounds, very quickly): It’s time now, get going. Lin’s up; in a little while he’ll be here, and once you start talking to him, you’ll never get away.
ZHAO ZHENYU: It’s all right.
ZHAO’S WIFE: What do you mean, “all right”? Hurry, he’s already up.
ZHAO ZHENYU: What’re you afraid of? He’s not a tiger, and he’s hardly going to ask you for the rent right now.
ZHAO’S WIFE: I just don’t like his manner, cold as ice, as if you’d done him some kind of a wrong, and when you say hello to him, the air catches near his throat, “Mm.” Even the children are scared of him (solicits agreement from GUIFEN), isn’t that right?
(GUIFEN nods.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (with a self-satisfied expression): But he gets along well enough with me; whenever he sees me, he—
ZHAO’S WIFE (interrupting angrily): God, I’m sick of hearing it: verbal diarrhea; he can’t even manage his own affairs, yet he still talks about the nation, soc-, soc-, society. (To GUIFEN) I could never learn all that blather, even if I wanted to!
(GUIFEN smiles.)
SHI XIAOBAO (comes to the edge of the stairs, softly): Mr. Huang! Mr. Huang!
HUANG JIAMEI (steps out of the garret): What is it? (Somewhat embarrassed as they approach each other) I … these past few days … your money …
SHI XIAOBAO (with a charming smile): No, don’t mention it; what does such a little amount matter … Uh, Mr. Huang, I wonder if you would do me a favor?
HUANG JIAMEI: What?
(GUIFEN is listening to this.)
SHI XIAOBAO (takes a letter out of her pocket): Please read this to me!
HUANG JIAMEI (looks the letter over): This is from your father. Hm … he says everything’s fine at home.
SHI XIAOBAO (before he can finish): But he wants some money, doesn’t he?
HUANG JIAMEI: Hm … a windstorm blew down the wall, so he’d like …
SHI XIAOBAO: It’s always the same. Don’t read any more, Mr. Huang; just tell me how much he wants.
HUANG JIAMEI: Mm, at least fifteen dollars. Plus …
SHI XIAOBAO (suddenly takes the letter back): Fifteen again; well, his daughter’s rich, isn’t she, a lady of the house and everything …
(She is about to leave.)
HUANG JIAMEI: Oh, about the five dollars I owe you; at the end of the month …
SHI XIAOBAO (gives him an arch look): You—take everything too seriously; what does it matter? (Laughs) The world doesn’t have enough honest men like you!
(She gives his chin a gentle tap with a magenta-polished fingernail, then blithely walks off. Somewhat embarrassed, HUANG JIAMEI feels the spot where she touched him and returns slowly to the garret.)
LIN ZHICHENG (walks to the faucet and rinses his mouth, muttering): Buying groceries, huh? What’s taking her so long?
ZHAO ZHENYU (beaming): Good morning. Were you on the night shift?
LIN ZHICHENG (without a trace of a smile): Mm …
ZHAO ZHENYU (as if speaking to himself): You must be very busy, with business so good at the silk factory …
LIN ZHICHENG: Huh! It’s all the same with us, no matter what business is like. When business is off, we worry every day about a shutdown or a layoff, and when business finally gets going again, then it’s three shifts a day and work all night. They don’t care whether you live or die; they can always get another workhorse!
ZHAO ZHENYU: Still, it’s surely better for business to be good than bad! For example—
LIN ZHICHENG: No such thing. Right now the factory’s driving us day and night, and the goods have been ordered all the way up to March of next year. Our boss was having a rough time for a few years and got ten million or so into debt, but now he’s paid every penny of it back in one year. Altogether he’s got five factories now. He must be taking in an average of thirty-five thousand dollars a day, and in a month, let’s see, three times five is fifteen, three times three makes nine—over a million a month, and of course that makes twelve million a year. We’re the ones who suffer, though. If the workers can’t take it, they can always cut a shift or two, but an office worker doesn’t have that privilege. For thirty to fifty dollars a month, you’ve bought yourself a manager, who’ll do your arithmetic and your paperwork, your cuffing and your bawling out for you …
ZHAO ZHENYU: Hm, thirty-five thousand a day, twelve million a year; why, in ten years that comes to a hundred and twenty million …
LIN ZHICHENG: Everything else aside, take payday, several thousand dollars every half month; all that bright-colored paper slipping through my fingers. Everybody thinks paying the wages is a fat job, but I can’t get used to that sort of monkey business. And yet, if you act in good conscience, they make you pay for any little discrepancy. Just today I failed to deduct thirty-five cents for savings 3 and got a “reprimand” from the head of the labor department. Reprimand! He joined the plant two years after I did, but he’s good at kissing up to the top men, so now he’s head of a department. Ah, none of it makes any sense at all!
ZHAO ZHENYU (nods): Mm, one is never happy with one’s own job, as the saying goes. But there’s another way of looking at it: to be with a factory for five or six years, as you have, why, there’s something to be said for that, at least. A life like ours naturally seems bad when you compare it with those on top, but we’re still better off than the ones on the bottom … (Points to a newspaper article) Scads of people in Shanghai are destitute. Now when you put yourself alongside them—
LIN ZHICHENG (before he can finish): No, the way I see it, when you’re on top or on the bottom, at least you know where you are; the worst off are people like us. If you’re rich, all right, you live in a big foreign-style house and ride around in a car, and everything’s just fine. And if you’re poor, then you might as well be like Li Lingbei up there in the attic, and that’s that. He eats when he can, and when he can’t, well, he just cinches up his belt, climbs up to the attic, and goes off to sleep. He doesn’t have to worry about appearances or reputation; no wife or children, no social obligations, and when his clothes get tattered, he gives a seamstress a few pennies to fix them up. He goes out on the street, just the same as you or I, and nobody laughs at him, but we, now, do you suppose we could get away with going to work with patches in our clothes? Goddamned office types, we’ll put on a show even if we have to go into debt to do it!
(GUIFEN glances at him surreptitiously.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: But from Li Lingbei’s point of view, our life just might seem better than his! A person can never be satisfied, and when he’s dissatisfied, he starts to complain. The complaining makes him pessimistic, and the pessimism ruins his health. Now, tell me, since my health is all I have, why should I want to do it any harm? So, here’s the way I handle it: whenever I’m dissatisfied about something, I compare my lot with people worse off, and then I calm down. For example—
ZHAO’S WIFE (interrupts in an explosive tone): “For example, for example”! You’ll never amount to anything, the way you’re always stooping beneath you! Why don’t you try comparing yourself with the people with money and power sometime?
ZHAO ZHENYU (paying no attention to her but settling down for a long conversation): For example—
ZHAO’S WIFE: No more “for examples,” please! Aren’t you going to school today?
ZHAO ZHENYU (as if he hadn’t heard): For example, we had an opportunity to be educated and find out about things. And we can observe this bustling world we live in, even come out with an opinion from time to time. This, after all, is a privilege. (Loudly) Ha, ha, ha …
LIN ZHICHENG (in sharp disagreement): Oh no, I don’t feel I’m entitled to privileges like that at all!
ZHAO ZHENYU: But, Mr. Lin, looking at it dispassionately, you’ll have to agree that society has been pretty good to us educated people. After all, how many people are there in China who can read, who can, as we do—
ZHAO’S WIFE (sarcastically): Oh, yes, pretty good, all right! Hah, so you can go out begging for a living!
ZHAO ZHENYU: I say that nowadays everyone in the whole world is equally miserable; everybody has his own particular suffering. Look at this news item.
(He offers him the newspaper.)
When we see them on the street, they look fierce and proud, sitting in their armored cars. There’s such a vicious expression on their faces; those hard, glinting eyes under their helmets look as if they’d like to gobble us up. But take off their tiger skins, and they’re no different from us!
LIN ZHICHENG (takes the paper and looks at it, then, with an expression of pain): What—
(HUANG JIAMEI pushes the window open and looks down.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (her curiosity piqued): What’s the matter?
ZHAO ZHENYU: It’s all beyond you!
ZHAO’S WIFE: So that’s why I’m asking in the first place!
ZHAO ZHENYU: All right, then I’ll explain it to you. (Unconsciously assuming the tone he uses in telling stories to his grade school students) It says in the paper, in … a country right next to our China, there was a soldier who had been in combat and had earned a medal—do you know what I mean? A medal you wear on your chest—but when he got his discharge, he found he couldn’t support his wife and parents, and one evening he sneaked off to a room he’d taken for the purpose and swallowed opium … No, no (takes a quick look at the newspaper) he swallowed poison and killed himself! In his suicide note he said, “I’ve sold what I can, and now I have nothing left but the body my mother and father gave me. I’ve heard that medical schools buy corpses; if that’s so, then sell my corpse so that my family can eat …” The upshot of it was that they did sell the corpse as he’d requested, for thirty-six dollars, minus the hotel bill of a dollar twenty, and with tears in his eyes, his father took away an estate of thirty-four dollars and eighty cents! The newspaper reporter gave the story a headline—you know what a headline is, don’t you? It means title—“Hero for Sale: $34.80”!
LIN ZHICHENG (vehemently): Goddamn it (throws the newspaper away), the bastard who took away the dollar twenty is nothing but a robber!
ZHAO ZHENYU: You’re so right. Just for money, for such a piddling amount too—(turns and deliberately teases his wife) so you see, I hate the sight of money.
HUANG JIAMEI (in an aggrieved tone): Guifen.
(GUIFEN is absorbed in the conversation and does not reply.)
LIN ZHICHENG: Huh … with corpses floating all over this China of ours, I wonder if any one of them could get a price like that!4
ZHAO ZHENYU (off on a new topic): Say, speaking of floating corpses, it says in today’s paper …
(LITTLE TIANJIN, a young Shanghai street type, pushes his way through the gate, eyes everyone, and goes straight up the stairs. With an expression of disgust mixed with some self-satisfaction, ZHAO’S WIFE whispers in GUIFEN’s ear.)
GUIFEN (eyes alight with interest): Really?
ZHAO’S WIFE (points to her own eyes): I saw it with my own eyes. He sneaked out with her night before last, and they didn’t get back till daylight yesterday. Right here last night (points to the water basin) I saw him get his cut from her!
GUIFEN (covering her mouth): Disgraceful!
LIN ZHICHENG: Damn it, the men are thieves and the women whores in this world, and it’s all for money. There’s nothing they don’t do for it!
(Upstairs, SHI XIAOBAO catches sight of LITTLE TIANJIN and yells, “Get out of here!” Everyone looks up.)
There will come a day when I’ll have some power, and then I’ll get those—
ZHAO ZHENYU (interrupts loudly): Oh my god! (Jumps up) I’ve got only three minutes!
(He picks up his books from the table and dashes out.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (staring angrily after him): Won’t you ever change?
HUANG JIAMEI (from upstairs): Guifen! Guifen!
GUIFEN (raises her head): What?
ZHAO ZHENYU (pushes through the gate violently): Forgot my hat!
(He rushes into the house, gets his hat, stuffs it on his head, and rushes out again.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (chasing after him and shouting at the gate): Hey, why haven’t you put your rubbers on?
(She sees that he is well on his way and so turns around and mumbles something. GUIFEN is wringing out the laundry.)
LIN ZHICHENG (returns to his room, now that his companion in complaining and conversation has left): Shopping for groceries, huh? Nine o’clock, and not back yet.
HUANG JIAMEI (descends from the garret, while GUIFEN, wiping her hands, is on her way up): Come here!
GUIFEN: What is it? I haven’t finished all the laundry yet.
(ZHAO’S WIFE cleans up her room, and LIN ZHICHENG, alone, pours out some water and washes his face.)
HUANG JIAMEI (standing in the middle of the stairs): What’s the rush? With the weather the way it is, it’ll rain in a little while anyway, and it’ll never get dry.
GUIFEN (looking at him): What’s the matter?
HUANG JIAMEI (hesitates for an instant): Do you have anything left?
GUIFEN (uncomprehending): What do you mean?
HUANG JIAMEI: Yesterday’s …
(He swallows the rest.)
GUIFEN (understands his meaning now, lowers her head): I have a few dimes leftover from groceries.
HUANG JIAMEI: Then, today …
GUIFEN (looks up at him): Today?
HUANG JIAMEI (falls silent a moment, then, as if searching for another topic, with a wry smile): Guifen! Do you think Dad—do you think Dad is disappointed in me? From his expression …
GUIFEN: Why? I can’t tell.
HUANG JIAMEI (painfully): Why? He sold his land, mortgaged his house, borrowed money at a bloodsucking rate just to raise his son, but now—
GUIFEN (cutting him short): There you go again; what’s the good of all that? You haven’t done anything wrong; you’re not too lazy to look for work. If you can’t find some little job or other in a place as big as Shanghai, well, it’s not your fault.
HUANG JIAMEI (runs his fingers through his hair, becoming more and more excited): It’s all because of the bad advice of that elementary school teacher Mr. Yao. He told my dad, “This boy is a genius. Our school had never had such a gifted student, and he’s really going to amount to something. It would be a shame to keep him buried out here in the country!” But if he were alive today, I’d like to invite him here for a good look at his genius, living in a garret!
(He coughs.)
GUIFEN: Oh, for heaven’s sake, you’re …
(Worried that others will hear, she tries to calm him down.)
HUANG JIAMEI (after a pause, exhales and lowers his voice): Now that Dad’s finally gotten to Shanghai, to have him stay in the room all day looking after the baby is a damned shame!
GUIFEN: I know, but—
HUANG JIAMEI: Doesn’t the baby still have his locket?
(He averts his eyes.)
GUIFEN (raising her eyebrows): The three dollars or so I gave you last time, wasn’t that from the gold locket?
HUANG JIAMEI: That’s right! (In despair) Poor little child, even an insignificant thing like that …
(GUIFEN looks at him and says nothing.)
Then you—
(He breaks off.)
GUIFEN: What?
(She looks at him. HUANG JIAMEI lowers his head and says nothing.)
Actually, I suppose, when you’re rich, you should live like a rich man, and when you’re poor, you should live like the poor. Perhaps—your dad isn’t going to be here for very long …
(HUANG JIAMEI says nothing.)
(In a spontaneous outpouring) But what I’m worried about is the future. If we keep on borrowing three dollars here, five dollars there, and living hand to mouth from one day to the next, the day will come when—
HUANG JIAMEI (suddenly raises his head and as if exploding): You think I’m never going to find a job, is that it?
(He stops abruptly and looks down.)
GUIFEN (in consternation): No, no, that’s not what I mean. Oh, you (shifts to a pleading tone), Jiamei, I just didn’t put it the right way!
(Silently, HUANG JIAMEI caresses her shoulder, turns, and goes toward the stairs. At this moment, the back gate creaks open, and HUANG’S FATHER enters holding his grandson. He seems to be very happy. The boy has a piece of cake in one hand and a string of water chestnuts in the other. A XIANG, her hands behind her back, follows along behind, stealthily, her eyes glued to her mother.)
HUANG’S FATHER: Ha, ha, that’s right, that’s right, this is the place, all right; say, you’re pretty clever!
HUANG JIAMEI: Ah, you’re back, Dad!
(He is about to go up to him but is suddenly seized with a fit of coughing.)
GUIFEN: Go upstairs; it’s windy here.
ZHAO’S WIFE (looking at her daughter’s hands): What in the world? Who gave you …
A XIANG (also has a string of water chestnuts; pouts): I told him I didn’t want any, but he (points to HUANG’S FATHER) insisted on giving me some.
ZHAO’S WIFE: Idiot, you just don’t have an ounce of manners!
(She is about to say something to HUANG’S FATHER, then suddenly remembers his deafness and shows her thanks with gestures.)
HUANG’S FATHER (loudly): I’m much obliged to her. The houses in Shanghai all look alike, and as soon as I was out the door, I couldn’t tell which one it was! Ha, ha, ha!
(He goes to the stairs.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (takes three water chestnuts from A XIANG’s string): You can have half!
(Puts her apron to A XIANG’s nose) Blow!
(A XIANG gives a hefty and very noisy blow.)
Five years old, and can’t even blow your own nose!
(She takes A XIANG into their room.)
HUANG JIAMEI (holding back a cough and forcing a smile, takes the boy in his arms): Little rascal, just have to have your grandpa hold you, don’t you? (To his father) Dad, go on up and lie down for a while. We’re going to the theater tonight, The Burning of Red Lotus Temple!
(GUIFEN stares at the water chestnuts in her son’s hand.)
HUANG’S FATHER (has not understood): Ai, that’s all right, that’s all right, it doesn’t matter! Kids in the country eat thirty or fifty or so at a single sitting. The more you eat, the more you get used to them! Ha, ha …
(With a downcast expression, GUIFEN goes back to the water basin, but when it suddenly pours down rain, she retreats to the scullery door. HUANG JIAMEI comes out of the garret and coughs violently, holding a handkerchief to his mouth, as if to prevent his father from seeing him. GUIFEN is listening to him.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (in an admonishing tone): You’d better have a doctor come and see what’s wrong with your husband! Early in the morning his coughing sounds really terrible!
GUIFEN: But he …
ZHAO’S WIFE: Oh, while we’re on the subject, I have a prescription that’s done the trick for quite a few people. At noon of the fifth day of the fifth month, you take forty-nine large cloves of garlic, and when nobody is around …
(All of a sudden, from SHI XIAOBAO’s room comes an earsplitting noise as if something has been pushed over. ZHAO’S WIFE, GUIFEN, and LIN ZHICHENG simultaneously look up, listening. Immediately afterward, LITTLE TIANJIN comes out with a nonchalant air. He is whistling—probably the latest dance hall tune—and SHI XIAOBAO is close on his heels, shouting.)
SHI XIAOBAO: I’m not going, I’m not, I’ll be damned if I will!
(LITTLE TIANJIN stops on the stairs, turns his head, and looks at her. He keeps on whistling and says nothing. SHI XIAOBAO walks down to the landing.)
Go tell him it’s not my fault. He wants me to apologize to him, does he? Forget it! If I hit him, he had it coming. Hah! What a pig, asks me out to eat, then starts to get ideas! I told him Johnnie’s coming back, and if he has anything he wants to say, he can say it to him!
(She turns and is about to go off. LITTLE TIANJIN beckons her with his chin.)
(Descends a few steps) What?
(She raises her eyebrows.)
LITTLE TIANJIN (casually grabs a banister rail, gives it a light twist or two, breaks it off, and brushes the wood chips from his hand, then coldly, to SHI XIAOBAO): You’ll still have to walk in the Shanghai Bund perhaps. If you don’t listen to me … well, your legs aren’t any stronger than that wood, are they?
(He resumes his whistling, continues downstairs under the fixed stare of several pairs of eyes, and saunters out the gate. ZHAO’S WIFE hurriedly follows him out and watches him leave, then slams the gate closed.)
SHI XIAOBAO (a little shaken, but feels compelled to put up a bold front): Thieving son of a bitch!
(She goes back upstairs and throws herself on the bed. LIN ZHICHENG, hearing the quarrel, has run out from the parlor and stood watching LITTLE TIANJIN’S departure. Finally he goes over to the stairway and picks up the banister rail.)
LIN ZHICHENG (angrily): I must have been blind! What a splendid bunch of tenants I’ve got!
(He is about to turn around and go back when there is a knocking at the back gate. Since ZHAO’S WIFE doesn’t dare to answer it but stands watching LIN ZHICHENG instead, he gathers his courage and pulls the gate open. The person at the gate is a middle-aged man with disheveled hair and a beard, in ill-fitting Western clothes that are soaked through at the shoulder. His eyes, long and narrow at the corners, are kind. He has a high-bridged nose. From his bearing it is clear that at this moment a surfeit of hardship has left him physically and spiritually exhausted. This is YANG CAIYU’S former husband, LIN ZHICHENG’S close friend, and BAOZHEN’S father— KUANG FU.)
KUANG FU: I wonder if a certain Mr. Lin—(sees LIN ZHICHENG and looks him up and down) ah, there you are, Zhicheng! I’ve been looking all over for you!
LIN ZHICHENG (taken aback, stares with bloodshot eyes and steps back a few paces): You … you …
KUANG FU: You don’t recognize me anymore, eh? I …
LIN ZHICHENG (after close scrutiny, turns pale): Ah, Fusheng! What …
KUANG FU (warmly extends his hands): Oh, I’ve changed, all right! I’ll bet if you’d run into me on the street, you wouldn’t have known me, would you?
(He smiles sadly.)
LIN ZHICHENG (almost as if struck by lightning, speechless and utterly bewildered): Ah—
KUANG FU (grabs LIN ZHICHENG’s hand in great enthusiasm): Zhicheng!
LIN ZHICHENG (after the shock of recognition, seized now with the emotion of seeing an old friend): Fusheng! You’ve come back! It’s you!
(He starts to embrace him but stops and assumes a bleak expression. KUANG FU looks around him, sees the others staring at him, and politely greets them.)
KUANG FU (to LIN ZHICHENG): Are these people all your family?
LIN ZHICHENG (as if waking from a reverie): Ah, no, no. Come on in and sit down!
(He leads KUANG FU to the parlor while the others look on in astonishment. As soon as they are inside, LIN ZHICHENG closes the door.)
KUANG FU (walking along): This area’s changed entirely; you’ve got a trolley bus through here now, and most of the houses are new. When I lived here seven or eight years ago—
(LIN ZHICHENG looks at him as if in despair.)
What’s the matter, Zhicheng? You see the way I look …
LIN ZHICHENG (trying to mask his confusion): Uh-huh, sit down, sit down. Have a smoke?
(He searches a drawer for cigarettes.)
KUANG FU: Hm? Have you forgotten I don’t smoke?
LIN ZHICHENG: Oh, oh, then …
(He tries to pour some boiled water from the thermos but is unaware that it is empty and that he is merely going through a pantomime of pouring.)
Have some water!
(His hands are shaking.)
KUANG FU (watching LIN ZHICHENG’s hands and beginning to be alarmed at his distraught expression): What’s the matter, Zhicheng? Did I come here too unexpectedly? Is it too much of a shock? How have you been feeling? There’s nothing wrong, I hope.
LIN ZHICHENG (even more distressed): No, no …
KUANG FU: Then, my old friend, why aren’t you happy over my newfound freedom? If you count the year and a half before I went in, it’s been ten whole years since we last saw each other!
LIN ZHICHENG: Uh-huh, Fusheng, I—I’m very happy, but, it—it must be a dream!
KUANG FU (laughing): No, squeeze my hand. It isn’t a dream, it’s real!
(LIN ZHICHENG grips his hand, glances at him, then lowers his head in silence.)
(Emotionally) I dreamt for eight years in that pigeon cage, and now, by god, it’s all come true! Whenever we’d get out into the yard and I’d breathe the fresh air, or when the wind would blow in from far off, I’d think of you right away, Zhicheng. And when my time was up, I had to find you first of all, so that I could see my Caiyu and my Baozhen! Zhicheng, they, they …
LIN ZHICHENG (with a gleam of terror in his eyes): They, uh, they …
KUANG FU: Are they all right? They … (Grips LIN ZHICHENG’s hand tightly) Oh, Zhicheng, I don’t know how to thank you. Tell me how they’ve been for the past few years.
(LIN ZHICHENG is unable to reply.)
Are they all right? Zhicheng, say something!
LIN ZHICHENG (his throat constricted): They—
KUANG FU (alarmed): What’s happened to them?
(LIN ZHICHENG cannot speak. KUANG FU jumps up)
Zhicheng, tell me, how are they? They … no use trying to fool me, they’ve—
(He is grief-stricken.)
LIN ZHICHENG: No, no, they’re all right … In a little while—
KUANG FU (relieved): Oh, they’re all right, are they? Zhicheng! If I hadn’t had a friend like you, they might have been dead by now, or drifting around in the streets. I don’t know how many terrible dreams I’ve had, of Caiyu and Baozhen begging for food in the streets. My god …
(While they are talking, A XIANG goes on tiptoe to the door and peeks in, listening. ZHAO’S WIFE is frying vegetables on a small stove, and when she sees that A XIANG has run off to eavesdrop, she immediately rushes over and pulls her away, threatening her with her fist. Helplessly A XIANG walks away. But when ZHAO’S WIFE hears KUANG FU mention YANG CAIYU, she stops short and, in spite of herself, assumes A XIANG’s identical stance, eavesdropping through the crack in the door. A XIANG stands by the stairs and, pouting, glares at her mother. Before KUANG FU has finished speaking, there is a sudden knock at the front gate. LIN ZHICHENG, in embarrassment, stands up but does not go to answer it. He finally makes a decision.)
LIN ZHICHENG: She—
VOICE (interrupting from outside the gate): Ma’am, do you have any bottles or old newspapers?
LIN ZHICHENG (furiously): No!
VOICE (monotonously): Got any used-up pots and pans, old clothes, old shoes to trade in, anybody?
(His cries drift away.)
KUANG FU (after this interruption, he picks up the glass, notices that it has no water in it, and puts it down again. He looks the room over for the first time, and his gaze falls upon a dress hanging on the wall): Oh, Zhicheng. (With forced enthusiasm) I had no idea; are you married?
LIN ZHICHENG (with increased anguish): Mm …
KUANG FU: For how many years, and who is she?
(Again LIN ZHICHENG can’t speak.)
I don’t know why it is, but when I was inside, the days seemed to crawl by. Actually, now that I think about it, the time went pretty fast, and now my old opponents in the dining hall fights at school are all already middle-aged men! Zhicheng, you’re thirty-five now?
LIN ZHICHENG (can hold off no longer): Fusheng! Why haven’t you written in the last few years? You might at least have sent me a letter saying you were all right! It wouldn’t have been impossible, would it?
KUANG FU: What do you mean?
LIN ZHICHENG: Ever since I got that one letter from you when you were in the Longhua prison, not a word—and at that time your case was so serious!
KUANG FU: My friend, I’m sorry. I had no idea what the situation was like outside, and it might have been dangerous for you if I’d sent you a letter.
LIN ZHICHENG (on the brink of tears): But, but, Fusheng! In that way, in that way you made me commit a crime, a crime so horrible I can’t even face you, my friend! Fusheng, spit on me, curse me, I beg you to do it! I’m vile, I’ve done a terrible thing to you …
KUANG FU (shocked): What is it? Tell me!
LIN ZHICHENG: I’m unspeakable, I can’t face you, I …
(He holds his head in his hands.)
KUANG FU: What are you talking about? I don’t understand; tell me! Tell me!
LIN ZHICHENG: Fusheng!
KUANG FU: What?
LIN ZHICHENG: I—
(He stops.)
KUANG FU: What’s the matter? Go on.
LIN ZHICHENG: Caiyu and I … (between clenched teeth) Caiyu and I have been living together!
KUANG FU (confused and unconscious of his actions): Uhh—(collapses onto his chair; as if by rote) living—together!
GUIFEN (loudly): Oh dear! Mrs. Zhao, your vegetables are getting burnt!
(ZHAO’S WIFE runs back awkwardly. GUIFEN takes some laundry upstairs.)
LIN ZHICHENG (softly but emphatically): Once I got the letter you’d had relayed to me from Longhua, I went to Caiyu, and as you had feared they were living in poverty in an attic, almost everything you owned having been taken away when you were in trouble. I … (takes a deep breath) I looked out for them as well as I could, but a year went by, then two, and I didn’t get any news at all from you. Some of the ones sentenced along with you died, others changed completely. I waited for you three full years (in gradually increasing excitement and louder voice) and I just didn’t know if you were alive or dead. (Quickly changes his tone) But no, no; I can’t use that as expiation; I did a criminal act, and I’m ashamed to face you. But, Fusheng! I’m a human being, I have feelings for them, and because I wanted them to be happy, I …
KUANG FU (excitedly): You wanted them to be happy! (With great effort brings his confused emotions under control) Mm … wait, I … let me think …
LIN ZHICHENG: I understand now that the cause of my misery was a worthless thing called devotion. I wanted to help a friend, help a friend’s family. Every time I’d see Baozhen, I would think to myself that I had to protect her and make sure she got an education, so that she could follow in your footsteps … But that made me commit my crime, and I …
KUANG FU (as if lost in thought and oblivious to what LIN ZHICHENG has just said): Wanted them to be happy …
LIN ZHICHENG (with a touch of hysteria): I’m a man, and I have some education. You used to treat me like your own brother, and so when you were up against it, do you suppose I would do anything to hurt you? After a month or two, I felt the danger, and I made up my mind several times to leave. I planned to gather up a good amount of money and give it to Caiyu. In that way I wouldn’t have to look after them all the time, but—
KUANG FU (has finally recovered his equilibrium): So, what about Caiyu?
LIN ZHICHENG: I suppose you could say the same thing happened to her; fate covered both our eyes, and the more we struggled, the worse the danger became, until finally—
KUANG FU: Wait, so now—
LIN ZHICHENG (before he can finish): Now? Isn’t everything clear enough already? I’ve committed a crime, and I’m waiting for your sentence. No, before you pronounce sentence, I must tell you I’ve already suffered the inquisition of my conscience. Whenever I would feel even the slightest degree of happiness, something of the warmth that a family can bring, at that very instant, some invisible instrument of torture would clamp down on my heart. But it’s all right now, you’re here, and I’ve confessed to you, held nothing back … I acknowledge my crime before you and await your verdict!
(After all this in one stream, he takes a long breath, exhausted but seemingly content.)
KUANG FU: No, I don’t care about that. What I want to know is whether you and Caiyu are happy.
LIN ZHICHENG (curtly): Do you think happiness can be built on misery?
KUANG FU (sadly): Mm …
(After an interval of silence, GUIFEN comes out of the garret with a bottle.)
HUANG’S FATHER (offstage): Don’t buy anything to drink; I’m not having anything. (GUIFEN goes to the back gate just as LI LINGBEI, the attic tenant, comes in with several unsold newspapers under his arm. He has already had a bit to drink and, unmindful of the others, is singing to himself as he goes up the stairs.)
LI LINGBEI (sings): “When I gaze on the lovely child, I can hold back no longer, the tears fall like pearls from my eyes … (Plaintively) My son, my seventh son, gone back to Wild Swan Gate for more troops to come in aid, why, oh why, now that you are gone, do you not come back … ?”
KUANG FU (following with his eyes LI LINGBEI’s voice as it proceeds to the roof, then despondently): I should never have come to see you; I’m just stepping in where I’m not wanted …
LIN ZHICHENG: What do you mean?
(KUANG FU is silent. Someone knocks at the gate, and LIN ZHICHENG gets up without the slightest hesitation. He has clearly come to a decision.)
Good, she’s back. I—I’m going out now, so you two can talk, and I’ll agree to anything you decide. My friend, I’ll be waiting for your decision …
(He opens the gate, but the person who enters is a young man in working clothes.)
YOUNG MAN (excitedly): Mr. Lin, hurry, the head of the labor department wants to see you right away; there’s trouble at the factory. Hurry …
LIN ZHICHENG (with indifference): It’s the day shift; it’s none of my affair.
YOUNG MAN: No, no, it’s really a mess. Hurry, everybody’s waiting!
(He tugs, at the point of coercion.)
LIN ZHICHENG: No, no, I’m busy …
(Under pressure, he finally changes his clothes and leaves. KUANG FU once again examines the room closely; he walks over to the desk, picks up a songbook left by BAOZHEN, and gives it a glance.)
KUANG FU (to himself): Lin Baozhen; hm, Lin! (Puts the book down and counts on his fingers) She was five then …
(He absentmindedly plays a few notes on BAOZHEN’s toy piano. At this moment there is a flash of sunlight. HUANG’S FATHER, holding his grandson, leans out of the garret window and looks at the sky. HUANG JIAMEI hurries down the stairs with a package and, when he reaches the water basin, comes upon GUIFEN, back from buying some liquor.)
GUIFEN (noticing his package): What’s that?
HUANG JIAMEI (somewhat ashamed): Some clothes …
GUIFEN (pulls out part of a piece of clothing sticking out from the package, looks at him, then): Jiamei, that’s all I have to wear when we go out.
(HUANG’S FATHER is watching from the window.)
HUANG JIAMEI (as if in self-justification): Well, you don’t have any social life anyway, and it’s so hot now you don’t need it. In a few days …
(He sees GUIFEN‘s reluctance to part with it and so, with forced indifference, walks away.)
GUIFEN: Jia—
(HUANG JIAMEI walks on without turning his head. Her eyes fixed on his retreating form, GUIFEN suddenly covers her face with her hands and bursts into tears. HUANG’S FATHER, watching from upstairs, turns solemn and comes rapidly downstairs. When the two come face-to-face by the stairway, GUIFEN greets him with a strained attempt at a smile.)
Dad …
HUANG’S FATHER (looking at her): Mm …
(At the back gate, YANG CAIYU, holding a grocery basket, directs a curious glance at them. The rain increases, as does the shouting of children in the lane.)
ACT 2
(It is the afternoon of the same day.
In the parlor, YANG CAIYU is slumped over the table in tears. KUANG FU paces back and forth aimlessly, his hands behind his back. Both are silent.
Above the parlor, LITTLE TIANJIN is lying on SHI XIAOBAO’s bed, smoking a cigarette and smiling maliciously. SHI XIAOBAO is sitting at her dressing table and applying makeup to her sad face. They too are silent.
In the garret, amid the sound of a child’s crying, HUANG JIAMEI is talking loudly to his father, but the words are muffled. GUIFEN, her expression distraught, slowly descends the stairs with a thermos. As she opens the rear gate and steps out, she listens to the conversation.
In the scullery, ZHAO’S WIFE is silently mending clothes.
A minute passes. The sun appears and casts a dazzling beam of light into the house, long soaked with humidity. ZHAO’S WIFE quickly gets to her feet and opens a soggy umbrella outside to dry, then puts a bamboo pole with wet clothing on it into the sunlight.)
HUANG’S FATHER (offstage): Look, isn’t that the sun shining?
(He opens the window.)
HUANG JIAMEI (offstage): Stay a few more days, Dad. When it clears up tonight we’ll go see The Burning of Red—
(He coughs.)
HUANG’S FATHER (offstage): After a half month’s rain, I’m afraid the lower land has been flooded over by now, and if I don’t get back to replant, what’re we going to eat this year?
(After finally putting all the clothes out to dry, ZHAO’S WIFE goes back inside, gets herself settled comfortably, and picks up her sewing. The sunlight disappears, and it showers heavily again. She gets up immediately and retrieves the clothes.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (peevishly): Damn!
KUANG FU (paces up to YANG CAIYU and stops): So you mean … you’ve been living with Zhicheng … You’ve been living with Zhicheng just to stay alive, not on account of any feeling …
(Without making a reply or raising her head, YANG CAIYU automatically reaches for her handkerchief with her right hand. KUANG FU picks her handkerchief up from the floor and hands it to her without speaking. There is a moment of silence. From the back gate comes the voice of a peddler. A XIANG quietly opens the back gate but, apparently worried about her shoes, which are thoroughly wet, is afraid to step inside.)
Hm, to stay alive, just to stay alive! (Nods and sits down in dejection, then after a moment, as if in both ridicule and release of pent-up resentment) Ten short years have changed us completely! Ten years ago, for the sake of love you forsook your family; ten years ago, for the sake of love you risked everything and married a man without roots like me, but now after those ten years … the courageous disciple of love triumphant over all has finally turned into a timid little housewife!
(YANG CAIYU makes no reply but wipes her eyes and looks at him.)
Caiyu, I doubt if anybody would have thought you could—
(He breaks off.)
YANG CAIYU (softly): You still hate me, don’t you?
KUANG FU: No, I don’t hate anybody!
YANG CAIYU: Then you must be laughing at me … you must despise me. While my own husband, whom I loved, was suffering in prison, I was thinking of marriage as just an occupation and was confusing sympathy with love, and so, very cautious and circumspect about everything, I’ve been keeping house for someone else.
KUANG FU: Caiyu!
YANG CAIYU (on a slightly higher pitch): But before you blame me, you have to try to imagine what it’s been like for the last ten years! After we got married, we didn’t spend a day in peace: poverty-stricken, on the run, separated from all our friends and family. At that time, I suppose you could say I was just barely hanging on, hanging on for the sake of your ideals and for everyone else’s future. But once you went to prison, I couldn’t locate a single one of your friends. Oh, the ones I did find might not have said so in so many words, but I could tell from the way they acted they were afraid I’d get them involved. All right, I was Kuang Fu’s wife and I’d have to get by on my own, so I made up my mind to look for a job. But I had Baozhen tied to me, she was only five then; I tried everywhere, thought of everything, but do you think anybody would spend his money to hire a woman with a child? On days so hot the asphalt on the streets would stick to the soles of our shoes, Baozhen would go along with me. At first, before she could get very far, she would cry out that her feet were sore, but as the days went by, when I would ask her, “Baozhen, can you keep going?” she would smile and say, “I’m used to it now, Mommy; I’m not a bit tired.” (Tries to fight back her tears but fails) That was—how we lived!
KUANG FU (painfully, walks over to her and puts a hand on her shoulder): Caiyu, I haven’t the slightest intention of blaming you; I just think …
YANG CAIYU: Do you think there’s a chance at all in this world for us women to find any job? They use every trick they can think of—sarcastic smiles, contempt, pressure, insults, anything to force you into marriage, to force you into the role of the nice, sweet housewife!
KUANG FU: Caiyu, it’s no good talking about the past; you can’t bring it back, anyway. You’ve got to calm yourself; we can talk about other problems, after all.
YANG CAIYU (after a pause): Other problems?
(She turns around.)
KUANG FU: Yes …
(He falls silent and resumes pacing. GUIFEN comes in with boiled water and several biscuits, A XIANG enviously following along. GUIFEN goes upstairs and, after a moment, comes out onto the stairs again with HUANG JIAMEI, who is furious.)
HUANG JIAMEI: What did you say to Dad the minute I stepped out?
(GUIFEN shakes her head.)
Nothing? Then why was he on top of the world this morning and now all set to go back home? He said he’s going back tonight!
GUIFEN (in surprise): Tonight? Didn’t you tell me we were going to the theater?
HUANG JIAMEI (viciously): He’s already packing his things, as if you didn’t know.
GUIFEN: As if I didn’t know? What do you mean?
HUANG JIAMEI: I mean you forced him to go!
GUIFEN: I … forced … him … to go! Jiamei! You can’t just say everything that comes into your head like that; why would I want to force him to go? How could I?
HUANG JIAMEI (coldly): As for why, because I’ve pawned your clothes, and as for how, with your tears, that’s how, with that frowning look you carry around with you all day. He may be deaf, but he isn’t blind yet, and your intentional worrying and sighing over our poverty have kept him … kept him from staying on.
GUIFEN: My intentional—
HUANG JIAMEI: My dad is getting old, and you, you—
GUIFEN (finally goaded to a retort): You can’t be so unreasonable! Don’t try to get the idea from somebody else around here that you can use your wife as a whipping boy. You’d like your dad to stay on a few days, I understand that, it’s a natural thing to want. But let me ask you this: what good would it do for him to stay a few days more under these circumstances, for him, and for you? You keep on this way and you’ll drive us all to our deaths, all of us together. Why (begins to weep), why would I ever want to force him … to go?
(HUANG JIAMEI says nothing but savagely runs his hand through his hair.)
(Tenderly) Jiamei! Your health …
(From the garret comes the sound of a child’s crying.)
HUANG’S FATHER: Oh, don’t cry, don’t cry. I’ll hold you. It’s all right, it’s all right …
(GUIFEN wipes her tears with her sleeve, and HUANG JIAMEI quickly wipes her eyes with his own handkerchief. He steps back to allow GUIFEN into the room, then with head bowed follows her inside.)
KUANG FU (after listening to HUANG JIAMEI and GUIFEN’s conversation): So—your life now …
YANG CAIYU (with a sad smile): See for yourself!
KUANG FU: I see that Zhicheng has aged a lot. I suppose my coming today was too much of a shock, but the moment I laid eyes on him, I had the feeling that, on top of the melancholy he’s had ever since childhood, there’s anxiety too … How is he getting along at the factory?
(YANG CAIYU shakes her head.)
He still can’t get along with anybody, is that it?
YANG CAIYU (nods, then after a pause): What about me? I’ve aged, haven’t I?
KUANG FU (has some difficulty in answering this): Uh …
YANG CAIYU: Haven’t I?
(KUANG FU looks at her.)
Go ahead and say it, I—
(He is still silent. She gives a forced laugh.)
You won’t say it; all right, I will. I’m no longer the Yang Caiyu of ten years ago!
KUANG FU (nervously): No, no, I was just thinking …
(Silence.)
YANG CAIYU: You were thinking, were you? Well then, do you think I’ve been happy?
KUANG FU: I hope so!
YANG CAIYU: Tell me the truth! Do you think he’s been able to make me happy?
KUANG FU: I hope he has.
YANG CAIYU (smiles sarcastically and avoids his eyes): You say I’ve changed, but I think you have, too. You’re not as natural as you used to be, or as candid.
KUANG FU: What do you mean?
YANG CAIYU (quickly continues): Suppose I told you that Zhicheng has been unable to make me happy, that I’ve been miserable, that Baozhen, along with me, has been treated badly? He can’t get along with people at the factory; he takes all kinds of abuse, he’s the target of jokes, and his juniors climb on past him, one after the other. He worries all day about losing his job, and by the time he gets home, he’s ready to let out all his frustrations on me with a vengeance. At the slightest provocation he pouts and refuses to say anything, plays dumb for three days or even more … Fusheng! Can you possibly consider a life like that happy—
KUANG FU (in anguish): Caiyu, I’m ashamed of the way I’ve treated you.
(The back gate opens, and BAOZHEN enters in a rush. When ZHAO’S WIFE sees her, she quickly beckons to her, but BAOZHEN seems not to notice and strides directly into the parlor. The conversation thus interrupted, KUANG FU, in a reflexive action, gets to his feet.)
YANG CAIYU: Baozhen, come here; this is—
(She hesitates.)
KUANG FU (breaks in): Is this Baozhen?
(He looks at her tenderly.)
BAOZHEN (startled): Do you know me? May I ask your name, sir?
YANG CAIYU: Baozhen—
(She finds it impossible to go on.)
KUANG FU (laughing): My name is Kuang.
BAOZHEN (innocently): How do you write “Kuang”?
KUANG FU (writes on the table with his finger): Like this: the “king” character inside a box.
BAOZHEN: Kuang? I didn’t know there was such a strange name! What does the character mean?
KUANG FU (caught short): Well, let me think—
BAOZHEN (quickly goes to the table and finds a tiny dictionary, which she leafs through):
“Box” radical, one, two, three, four strokes … here it is; hm, “Kuang, to reform, to correct.” But, Mr. Kuang, do people still use a character like this?
KUANG FU (never takes his gaze, amazed yet loving, from her): Well, yes, but pretty seldom now.
BAOZHEN: My teacher says useless characters should be done away with, isn’t that right?
YANG CAIYU: Baozhen!
KUANG FU: Mm! You’re right! (Laughing) From now on I’ll do without it.
BAOZHEN: Oh good! Mom, why are you staring at me that way? Come on, give me something to eat; I’m off to school.
KUANG FU: How’s that? Didn’t you just get through with school?
BAOZHEN: No (proudly), what the teacher just got through teaching me, I’m going to go teach somebody else. I’m a “little teacher”; I teach singing and reading.
KUANG FU: “Little teacher”?
(YANG CAIYU gives her a few crackers; she takes them and eats while she talks.)
BAOZHEN: You don’t know what “little teacher” means? The idea is “once you find out, pass it on”; once we learn something, we tell it to other people … Oh, it’s getting late; bye-bye! (Bounds off, singing) “It’s bootleg, dirt cheap!”
ZHAO’S WIFE (softly but with force): Baozhen …
(BAOZHEN, paying no attention, exits.)
KUANG FU (unconsciously follows her for a few steps, then, after watching her leave, turns around): Hm, where have all the days gone?
YANG CAIYU (nostalgically): Don’t you think she acts just the way you did when you were young? When you were a student, wouldn’t you stay up for several nights on end and get sick, just on account of an algebra problem? She’s the same way; she just has to get to the bottom of everything!
KUANG FU: But I don’t have that attitude any more … (Ponders, then as if remembering something) Caiyu! I’m content now, because when I was in prison and the beriberi was bad, I’d already given up hope of ever seeing you both again, but now, now that I’ve seen Baozhen with my own eyes and find she’s just like me when I was young—
YANG CAIYU: Content? Do you think Baozhen is happy?
KUANG FU: No, that’s not what I mean …
YANG CAIYU (despondently): Her memories used to be so unclouded, but a stain is on them now that can never be washed away. The other children call her …
(She looks at KUANG FU.)
KUANG FU: What do you mean, that even she has—
(At this instant, the sound of children fighting comes from the rear gate. ZHAO’S WIFE looks out the gate.)
A NIU’S VOICE: Give it back! Give it back!
A XIANG’S VOICE: It’s mine! Mommy!
(She screams.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (apparently just back from school, enters holding the two children apart):
Go on inside! Go on!
(A NIU and A XIANG wrestle.)
Ha, ha …
A NIU: Give it back! (Turns to his father) It’s my “work project,” and she took it. Give it back!
A XIANG: Mommy gave it to me to play with! It’s mine!
(The two wrestle and hit each other. ZHAO ZHENYU makes no attempt to interfere but looks on, smiling. ZHAO’S WIFE immediately sets her sewing down and steps outside.)
ZHAO’S WIFE: A Niu! (Sees ZHAO ZHENYU’s expression, then furiously) Hope you’re enjoying the show! They could be beating each other to death, for all you care!
(She pulls on A NIU)
ZHAO ZHENYU (calmly): No chance, no chance of that at all. It’s the rainy season, and they need all the exercise they can get!
ZHAO’S WIFE: No hitting, A Niu! You brat!
(A NIU hits A XIANG, who cries.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: Ha, ha, ha …
ZHAO’S WIFE (jerks A NIU away): Have a good laugh.
(With mocking obedience, ZHAO ZHENYU stops laughing. At this instant, A NIU charges by and grabs a cardboard model from A XIANG’s hands.)
What are you doing, stealing that!
(She pulls A NIU into the room.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (squats down and wipes A XIANG’s tears with a handkerchief, meanwhile, in a tone that only a teacher could perfect): Don’t cry now. I’ve told you, don’t laugh when you win and don’t cry when you lose. Only crybabies cry! (Softly, for fear his wife will hear) You can fight again tomorrow! (Takes A XIANG into the apartment) You’ve heard the story I’ve told your brother; now, when Napoléon was banished to Elba, what did he say? Hm? Hm? … Ah, look! There’s A Niu laughing already. (Loudly) Ha, ha, ha.
(In the front room, SHI XIAOBAO, her makeup completed, hears ZHAO ZHENYU‘s laughter and heads downstairs, as if remembering something she had forgotten.)
LITTLE TIANJIN (angrily): Where do you think you’re going?
SHI XIAOBAO (raising a slippered foot): What are you getting so excited about? I can’t exactly run away. (Descends the stairs and goes to the scullery door, where she surreptitiously beckons to ZHAO ZHENYU) Mr. Zhao!
ZHAO ZHENYU: Oh, you’re home, are you?
(He walks over, while his wife glares angrily.)
SHI XIAOBAO (softly): Would you mind looking something up in the last few issues of the newspaper for me?
ZHAO ZHENYU: What is it?
(His wife gets to her feet and stands at the scullery door.)
SHI XIAOBAO: If you would try to find out about Johnnie—when his ship is due back in Shanghai.
ZHAO ZHENYU: Oh, oh (turns back in to get the newspapers, then, seeming to recall something), what’s the name of the ship?
SHI XIAOBAO: Well, let’s see … Uh, it’s got a “maru” on it.
ZHAO ZHENYU: Ha, ha … a lot of ships have a “maru” in their names; for example—
SHI XIAOBAO: Then—
ZHAO’S WIFE (making it a point to be heard by SHI XIAOBAO): Shameless!
ZHAO ZHENYU: Your husband is coming home soon, is he?
SHI XIAOBAO (turns away and becomes despondent): If only he could!
(She climbs partway up the stairs, thinks of something, and comes back down again. She goes to the parlor, sees that there is a visitor, and hesitates.)
Oh, sorry. Is Mr. Lin out?
YANG CAIYU: Uh-huh, is there anything I can do?
SHI XIAOBAO (has difficulty in broaching the subject): Mrs. Lin! I’d like to talk to you about something.
YANG CAIYU (walks to the doorway): What is it?
SHI XIAOBAO: Is Mr. Lin coming back right away?
YANG CAIYU: Do you have some kind of problem? You can tell me.
SHI XIAOBAO (falters for a moment, then decisively but softly): Is there any way you can get rid of that thug in my room for me?
YANG CAIYU: What do you mean, thug?
(KUANG FU stands up.)
SHI XIAOBAO: He, he wants me to—I don’t want to go, and if that man of mine comes back in a day or two, there could be trouble.
YANG CAIYU: I don’t understand; who is your—
LITTLE TIANJIN (somewhat suspicious, gets up and goes to the head of the stairs):
Xiaobao!
SHI XIAOBAO (in alarm, quickly): He’s a gangster, and he’s trying to make me go to—
LITTLE TIANJIN: Xiaobao!
SHI XIAOBAO (turns around and mounts the stairs; in a pleading tone): When Mr. Lin gets back, would you tell him to …
(She goes upstairs.)
KUANG FU (once she has left): What’s the matter?
YANG CAIYU: I have no idea!
(They look upstairs.)
SHI XIAOBAO: What are you getting so excited about? We’re not rushing to a coroner’s office!
LITTLE TIANJIN: He’s waiting; let’s go!
SHI XIAOBAO (against her will, sits down and puts on high-heeled shoes): Cigarette.
(LITTLE TIANJIN pulls out his cigarette case, sees that it is empty, and hands her the cigarette he is smoking. SHI XIAOBAO takes a long drag, then flips the cigarette away.)
(With an intentionally nonchalant air) Johnnie’s coming back tomorrow, you know.
(LITTLE TIANJIN seems unconcerned.)
Aren’t you afraid he’ll raise hell?
LITTLE TIANJIN (ignores this, suddenly stands up): Let’s go!
SHI XIAOBAO (smiling archly): But let’s get something settled before we do!
(She approaches suggestively.)
LITTLE TIANJIN: You want me to get rough?
(He yanks her sharply.)
SHI XIAOBAO (concealing her distress): Then tomorrow I’m going to tell him; the whole story, since you’re not afraid of anything anyway.
(She starts off, with LITTLE TIANJIN following her downstairs in a coercive manner.)
LITTLE TIANJIN (on the stairs): Let me tell you something. Johnnie’s in the States right now, got that?
(SHI XIAOBAO says nothing. As they leave, ZHAO’S WIFE’s angry eyes follow them out. She looks back, about to make a remark, but stops when she finds she has no one to make it to. A peddler is calling his wares outside the gate. The sky darkens suddenly. GUIFEN steps out to the landing and shouts.)
GUIFEN: Mrs. Lin, would you turn the main light switch on, please?
(When YANG CAIYU, without a word, turns on the main switch, the garret is suddenly filled with light. Thunder sounds in the distance, and while KUANG FU and YANG CAIYU are talking, the tenants of the garret and the scullery begin to prepare dinner.)
YANG CAIYU: You still haven’t answered my question just now; do you think our life now is a happy one?
(He does not reply.)
If, tell me the truth now, if you thought Baozhen and I were unhappy, then … Could your conscience be at peace?
(KUANG FU, distressed, makes no reply.)
(Takes a step toward him) Why don’t you say something? Didn’t you used to tell me you would do anything to make me happy?
KUANG FU (painfully): Don’t press me, Caiyu! My mind is all confused, and I don’t know what to do. I—I …
(He gets to his feet and paces aimlessly.)
YANG CAIYU (after a moment of silence): Oh, Fusheng! Do you remember about Dasha?
KUANG FU (stands still): Dasha?
YANG CAIYU: Uh-huh, when we were living on Little Sandbar Lane and I had the flu, you sat by my bed and told me stories. Wasn’t there a woman in a novel who was called Dasha?
KUANG FU: Ah, ah …
YANG CAIYU: You said then that I was too weak, and when you told about Dasha, you would say, “Yang Caiyu! You should try to be brave like Dasha!” What book was that? I can’t remember!
KUANG FU: Hm, it was … the name of the book was Cement, by Gladkov, wasn’t it?
YANG CAIYU: That’s right, Cement. How do you feel about a woman like Dasha now?
(KUANG FU makes no reply.)
Out of all the stories you told me, I don’t know why, but I’ve never forgotten Dasha. Maybe—
KUANG FU (interrupting): Don’t say anything more, Caiyu; I understand what you mean, but—
YANG CAIYU: I know I can’t compare myself to Dasha, but didn’t you used to say you always, always wanted me to be happy? As long as you lived. Do you think I can’t be like Dasha? Just as in the novel, when her husband comes home—
KUANG FU (despairingly): But though you could be Dasha, I’m no longer a Gleb. When Dasha saw her husband again, he was a hero back from victory, while I am just a casualty from life’s battlefield.
YANG CAIYU: Fusheng!
KUANG FU: Just now you said I’d changed, too. You’re right, I’m aware of it myself, I have changed. I used to look at everything so simply, as if everyone were just like me, and with determination anything at all could be accomplished. But in the past few years I’ve seen too much, and things just aren’t that simple. Pettiness, deceit, self-seeking, hurting others for no purpose, like wild animals, these are the things men do … (Seems to remember something suddenly) Oh, but don’t misunderstand. I don’t mean Zhicheng; he’s like me, he’s one of the weaklings, too!
YANG CAIYU (shocked): Is this you talking, Fusheng? Weakling, you’re admitting you’re a weakling? Didn’t you used to say time after time—
KUANG FU: So, I admit openly that I’ve changed. Look at me. These past few years have ruined my health and destroyed my courage, and when I think about going on with life, I have no more confidence in myself. Do you think a casualty like me could still make anybody happy?
YANG CAIYU: Then you think … our …
KUANG FU (in despair): I just got through saying to Zhicheng, I regret coming here to see you; I’m just making things worse!
YANG CAIYU: Fusheng! Is that what you really think? You never used to lie!
(There is a pause. She continues, with a trace of anger.)
Then you’re too selfish; you’ve tricked me! All the time we’ve been married.
KUANG FU: What do you mean?
(He takes a step toward her.)
YANG CAIYU: Ask yourself!
KUANG FU: Caiyu! That’s not what I meant. I was only saying that as far as going on living is concerned, I’ve lost faith in myself and have no guarantee that I can make you and Baozhen more—
YANG CAIYU: Then let me ask you this, very simply: suppose for these eight and a half years you hadn’t had a friend like Zhicheng and he and I hadn’t had the relationship we now have, then, as a matter of course, suppose Baozhen and I had been on the streets, destitute, and, perhaps, one of us dead by now. Suppose, in a situation like that, you had found me and I had asked you for help. Could you have said then, as you just did, “I no longer have the self-confidence to make you happy; I can only let you starve to death on the streets”?
KUANG FU (stymied): I—I—
YANG CAIYU: Then I can only say that you’re either cruel, or jealous!
KUANG FU (at a complete loss): Caiyu!
YANG CAIYU: If the situation were different, you would no doubt say to me, “Caiyu, I’m home now. Don’t be afraid; we’ll make a new start.” But now—you, you’re casting me aside—because I wanted to stay alive …
KUANG FU (in anxiety and pain): Don’t say things like that, Caiyu. What, what should I do? I just can’t think of any other solution!
(At the impatient cry of “Evening paper!” in the lane, ZHAO ZHENYU hurries to buy a newspaper.)
YANG CAIYU (in a tone of supplication): Fusheng! You can’t leave me again; you can’t leave Baozhen, who everybody thinks has no father. For Baozhen’s sake, for our only …
KUANG FU (after a moment of reflection): Wouldn’t—wouldn’t that make Zhicheng … make Zhicheng even more miserable?
YANG CAIYU (pauses): But I told you before, it was only for survival.
KUANG FU (hangs his head, then listlessly): Caiyu …
YANG CAIYU (gripping his hand): Be brave … It’s my turn now to tell you what you used to say to me.
(He laughs and raises his head.)
You’re still young.
(Feels his chin) Now then, shave off that beard of yours …
(While speaking, she gets LIN ZHICHENG’s safety razor and various other articles from a drawer.)
Fusheng! Don’t think any more about it. Today we’re supposed to be happy, aren’t we?
KUANG FU (as if all his pent-up affection is bursting forth): Caiyu!
(He leans his head on her breast.)
YANG CAIYU (stroking his head): Fusheng! You, you …
(Overcome with emotion, she weeps; they embrace. The sky gradually darkens. A hoarse, tired voice calling, “ Evening News, Evening Gazette, radio programs …” passes by outside the front gate, along with the piercing voice of a woman crying, “Evening paper” and so forth. A light comes on in the scullery. Suddenly there is a sharp knock at the front gate. In reflex, KUANG FU and YANG CAIYU break apart.)
Who is it?
(She opens the gate. A young employee of the factory, leading someone who looks like a foreman, enters, his face covered with perspiration.)
YOUNG MAN: Hurry, they want Mr. Lin right away!
YANG CAIYU: He isn’t back yet.
YOUNG MAN (as if wanting to charge in and conduct a search): Mrs. Lin, I need your help. The head of the labor department is already in a fit, and it’s none of my responsibility. (Loudly) Mr. Lin!
YANG CAIYU (startled): It’s true, he hasn’t come back. He left this morning and hasn’t been back since! Is anything the matter?
YOUNG MAN (impatiently): I’ll say there is … Mrs. Lin, did he really—then, do you know where he went?
YANG CAIYU (worriedly): How should I know? When did he leave the factory? Is anything the matter? …
YOUNG MAN (does not reply but turns to the foreman): All right, hurry over to Number 2 Plant and take a look.
(The foreman looks KUANG FU over, then exits.)
Mrs. Lin, this is serious. If he doesn’t come … (Wipes the perspiration from his forehead) Well, when he does get back, ask him to come over right away. The boss is waiting for him, too.
(He hurries off.)
YANG CAIYU: All right …
(She shuts the gate and looks anxiously at KUANG FU.)
KUANG FU (worriedly): What’s the matter?
YANG CAIYU: There’s been a lot of trouble at the factory lately, but …
KUANG FU: Where did he go? (Uneasily) He wouldn’t do anything …
YANG CAIYU (lowers her head): No, I’m sure he wouldn’t, but …
(She also feels uneasy. Amid the sounds of laughter and cursing, the back gate swings open, and LI LINGBEI staggers in drunk, singing to himself. A crowd of women and children, apparently enjoying the scene he is making, follows along behind, A XIANG among them. KUANG FU perks up his ears, but YANG CAIYU is accustomed to such performances. She glances at the safety razor and pours some water.)
LI LINGBEI (drunkenly): You want a song, all right, you’ll get one, that’s nothing to … (Sings) “The sun is sinking, the moon is rising, it is twilight. When I gaze on the lovely child, I can hold back no longer, the tears fall like pearls from my eyes …”
VOICE (outside the gate): Great! About as good as the master Ma Lianliang! 5
SECOND VOICE: One more verse!
THIRD VOICE: Hey, Li Lingbei! Your “lovely child” is dead! Dead!
LI LINGBEI (suddenly turns around): Goddamn it, who says so, who says so? Our A Qing is a general; he may be a division commander, or a commissioner, or maybe … maybe …
FIRST VOICE: Or maybe he’s cannon fodder by now!
SECOND VOICE: Don’t interrupt him; let him sing!
LI LINGBEI (threatening a child by the gate with his fist): Goddamn it, even you dare to treat me bad too, huh?
(The children give a yell and scatter, then with a sound of laughter begin to gather again.)
When A Qing comes back a general, I’ll be … (speech thickening) the patriarch, goddamn it … (Walks up to ZHAO ZHENYU and rudely snatches his newspaper away, then points to it) Mr…. Mr…. Mr. Zhao, is there anything in the paper about General Li, General Li A Qing coming to Shanghai?
(ZHAO ZHENYU smiles at him.)
When there is, you … you tell me, and I … I’ll buy you a drink! (Returns the newspaper) Goddamn it, one fine day A Qing’ll come home … (Lurches upstairs, singing plaintively) “With tears of sorrow, I enter the camp. My brows are knit in worry; I am hungry and cold, trembling …”
ZHAO ZHENYU (gets to his feet and disperses the onlookers): Nothing to see here … (Turns his head and spots A XIANG, grabs her) So you’re enjoying the show, too. I’ve told you before, when Li Lingbei comes around, you’re not to laugh. You … you …
(Unconcerned whether or not she understands him) You just exult in another person’s pain, don’t you? That, that …
(The sky grows even darker. YANG CAIYU turns on a lamp and, after pouring out some water for KUANG FU, watches him.)
KUANG FU: What was that all about?
YANG CAIYU: The roomer in the attic, a strange man. He had an only son, who joined the army during the January 28 Campaign against the Japanese and was killed. 6 They never found the body. He insists that his son is still alive and is a general. He’s not quite right in the head.
KUANG FU: Mm …
(He is affected by this; he begins to shave.)
LI LINGBEI’S VOICE (plaintively): “… I can hold back no longer, the tears fall like pearls from my eyes …”
(HUANG’S FATHER comes down the stairs holding the boy. There is distant thunder.)
GUIFEN (from the garret door): Dad, it’s late, don’t take him out!
(HUANG’S FATHER has not heard this; he sees ZHAO ZHENYU and waves to him eagerly.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: Mr. Huang! It’s going to rain!
HUANG’S FATHER (has not heard this, either): I’m going back home tonight (with a touch of sadness), so I’m holding him a little extra, ha, ha …
ZHAO ZHENYU: What’s that, going back to the country? (Turns to ask his wife) Didn’t you say they were going to the theater tonight?
(HUANG JIAMEI leans out the window.)
HUANG’S FATHER: Too much rain this year; I’ve got to replant the spring shoots in the lower fields.
ZHAO ZHENYU: Enjoy yourself a few more days. There are a lot more places to see in Shanghai.
HUANG’S FATHER (playing with the child, to himself): All right, all right, let’s go out and I’ll get you something to eat …
(Just as he is about to step out the gate, there is a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder. He turns around and looks at the sky.)
(To ZHAO ZHENYU) That’s why I say the world has changed. When we were young, there would always be thunder with the lightning, but now that it’s the Republic, the lightning doesn’t make a sound anymore, right? They say, “The thunder god’s drum is broken.”
ZHAO ZHENYU: What do you mean? Wasn’t that thunder just now? (After a moment of consideration, understands) Ha, ha … (Loudly) Mr. Huang! The thunder god’s drum isn’t broken; it still makes a noise. You’re hard of hearing, so you just can’t hear it, ha, ha, ha …
HUANG’S FATHER: What’s that? What I say is if there isn’t any thunder, the spring flowers will …
ZHAO ZHENYU (suppresses his laughter with some effort, to his wife): Did you hear that? He said now that it’s the Republic, there’s no thunder anymore, ha, ha, ha—(earnestly, to HUANG’S FATHER) the thunder in the sky is electricity, and it makes a noise even with a change of rule …
(There is another roll of distant thunder.)
Yes, yes, there it goes again.
HUANG’S FATHER (puzzled): What’s that? In the sky? …
ZHAO ZHENYU (loudly): The thunder in the sky isn’t a bodhisattva, it’s electricity (into his ear), electricity!
HUANG’S FATHER (still uncomprehending): City? What about the city?
ZHAO ZHENYU (loudly): Electricity, like in an electric light …
ZHAO’S WIFE: We’re out of soy sauce, go get some!
ZHAO ZHENYU (loudly): The clouds in the sky have a kind of electricity in them, elec—
ZHAO’S WIFE (holds the soy sauce bottle under his nose): Go buy some soy sauce!
ZHAO ZHENYU (without thinking, to his wife in an even louder voice): Have A Niu go buy it!
ZHAO’S WIFE (startled, then angrily): I’m not deaf!
(The usually melancholy HUANG JIAMEI finds himself smiling at this.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (with sudden realization): Ah, right you are. (Softly) Have A Niu go buy it, all right? (Turns back to HUANG’S FATHER, softly) There’s a kind of electricity in the sky …
ZHAO’S WIFE (angrily): A Niu’s studying.
(She stuffs the soy sauce bottle into his hand.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (out of excuses, to HUANG’S FATHER, loudly): Wait, I’ll be right back. (He exits.)
HUANG’S FATHER (confused, to ZHAO’S WIFE): What was he talking about? Hm, my bad ears …
(He turns and goes upstairs.)
GUIFEN (just coming down with a pail, from the stairs): Be careful, Dad.
(She turns on the stairway light.)
HUANG’S FATHER (startled): Mm …
(He looks at the light, then continues upstairs.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (notices GUIFEN coming down): Say, why is your father-in-law going back tonight?
(GUIFEN nods but makes no reply.)
Is there something urgent? At home?
GUIFEN: Older people sometimes act a little funny! He just upped and said he wanted to go, and off he’s going tonight.
ZHAO’S WIFE (surreptitiously): You know (points to the parlor, softly) Mrs. Lin’s former husband …
ZHAO ZHENYU (reenters and sees his wife’s expression): Incorrigible! I keep telling you not to meddle in other people’s business, and that goes for other people’s husbands, too—
ZHAO’S WIFE (interrupting angrily): Pah! (In a low voice) Then what are you doing meddling in mine?
ZHAO ZHENYU (scratches his head, suddenly remembers something): Ah, where’s old Mr. Huang from upstairs? We haven’t finished our conversation.
ZHAO’S WIFE (to GUIFEN, surreptitiously as before): Just now I heard Lin tell him such and such about Baozhen … (When A XIANG comes over to listen in, angrily) What are you listening for? Little brat! (Again to GUIFEN) Lin ran off, and I just now heard her crying. Good heavens, it’s really a mess! Have you seen him?
GUIFEN (shakes her head): Is he still here?
ZHAO’S WIFE (nodding): Uh-huh, with rags on his back, like Xue Pinggui in the play … 7
(She is about to go on, but LIN ZHICHENG, exuberant, enters through the back gate.
She quickly swallows what she was going to say and assumes a bland expression. He has a bottle of liquor and some snacks; as usual, he ignores everyone as he walks in.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (noticing): Oh, Mr. Lin! (Stands and points to a newspaper item) Today your factory—
(When LIN ZHICHENG walks on past, seemingly oblivious, ZHAO ZHENYU sits down again. ZHAO’S WIFE excitedly watches LIN ZHICHENG walk away.)
YANG CAIYU (looks at KUANG FU, now clean shaven): Now, don’t you feel a lot younger?
(When LIN ZHICHENG enters without saying a word, YANG CAIYU and KUANG FU step away from each other, the latter feeling somewhat ill at ease.)
Young Chen from the factory was here just now; he said they want you.
LIN ZHICHENG (morosely): I know.
(He hands YANG CAIYU the bottle and the food.)
YANG CAIYU: Is there something the matter at the factory? He said they want you to come right away.
LIN ZHICHENG: I know. We were out of food, so I went to the little place on the corner and ordered a few dishes. (To KUANG FU) I thought we’d do a little drinking tonight.
KUANG FU: Zhicheng, you—
LIN ZHICHENG (with unnatural joviality): Fusheng! It’s been a long time since we’ve had a meal together. You don’t drink, I know, but you’ve got to have a glass tonight.
I haven’t had a drink in a long time myself, but I feel very good today. You’ll be glad to know I’ve been liberated.
KUANG FU (pained): Zhicheng, don’t talk like that.
LIN ZHICHENG: No, no, I feel so relieved now. I’ve been freed from the life I’ve been living: taking it from one side and dishing it out to the other. (Loudly) I’m out of a job, but from now on I don’t have to act against my own conscience toward anyone.
KUANG FU AND YANG CAIYU (almost simultaneously): What have you …
LIN ZHICHENG: Ridiculous, wanting me to go out and hire gangsters to beat somebody up. Hah! Why should I do a filthy job like that? I quit instead! Hah, what a relief! Head of the labor section, always so high and mighty (gets increasingly excited), well, I saw through him today! (To YANG CAIYU) How about fixing something to eat?
KUANG FU (concerned): Relax a little, Zhicheng; you look exhausted!
LIN ZHICHENG: No, no, I feel just fine. A big stone that’s been pressing down on my mind has finally been taken away! Fusheng! It’s strange, isn’t it? I was always afraid of losing my job. Whenever they were making noises at the factory about letting people go, I’d always go in and take a look at the head man’s expression. And whenever he’d send for me, I could feel all the blood in my body rushing to my face. But today when he got blue in the face, pounded on the desk, and said, “Get out!” I wasn’t frightened a bit, I was very calm. I can hardly believe it myself.
YANG CAIYU (carrying a basin of water to him): You …
LIN ZHICHENG (still in a state of excitement): Plant manager isn’t a job for a human being at all. The ones over you treat you like an ox, and to the ones under you you’re a dog. From morning to night, nobody, top or bottom, will give you the time of day. But now I don’t have to take the rap for anybody; I don’t have to be treated like a dog by anybody. (Hysterically) Ha, ha, ha.
KUANG FU: Don’t get too excited now, Zhicheng—
LIN ZHICHENG: But first of all, you’ve got to be happy for me, that I got out of that kind of life!
YANG CAIYU (unable to keep from asking): Then from now on you—
LIN ZHICHENG: From now on. Hm …
(He washes his face. At this moment ZHAO’S WIFE seizes an opportunity to peer in; meanwhile A XIANG, seeing that her mother is absent, makes a beeline out the gate.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: A Xiang, A Xiang!
(ZHAO’S WIFE glances back. A restaurant delivery boy enters through the back gate with a food basket and heads upstairs. He knocks at SHI XIAOBAO’s door and, when there is no answer, peeks through the crack in the door. He puts the basket down before the door and leaves. LIN ZHICHENG finishes washing his face. With YANG CAIYU gone to prepare dinner, he walks up to KUANG FU and is about to say something, then hesitates.)
LIN ZHICHENG: Uh, Fusheng!
KUANG FU: Yes?
LIN ZHICHENG: Can we still be friends … the way we were before?
KUANG FU: Of course … but about this matter, I still have to … no, ahh, I just don’t know what to say …
(LIN ZHICHENG sits down dejectedly. ZHAO’S WIFE returns to her room, finds A XIANG gone, and runs to the gate.)
ZHAO’S WIFE: A Xiang, A Xiang! (Goes out the gate, then comes in dragging A XIANG)
Twerp! Fooling around outside all day, don’t you want to eat anything?
(On the landing, GUIFEN is cooking on the kerosene stove. YANG CAIYU is about to go out to buy groceries.)
LIN ZHICHENG (routinely): Isn’t Baozhen back yet? Yang, go look for Baozhen!
(Outside the gate, there are the sounds of peddlers as usual.)
ACT 3
(The evening of the same day. In the parlor, after dinner, LIN ZHICHENG has had a little too much to drink and is slumped in a chair. YANG CAIYU is silently gathering up the dishes. KUANG FU is engrossed in a conversation with BAOZHEN, while A XIANG sits beside them, staring at KUANG FU.
The room above the parlor is dark and empty.
In the garret, GUIFEN is busy packing her father-in-law’s things.
In the scullery, ZHAO ZHENYU is contentedly reading a book; he frequently waves his head back and forth while reciting a passage. In one hand he holds a rush fan, with which he mechanically drives off the mosquitoes. ZHAO’S WIFE is wiping her hands after having finished washing the dishes. A NIU is bent over his homework at the table.
There is the sound of rain. In the distance, a popular Cantonese song can be heard on a radio. When the curtain rises, KUANG FU and BAOZHEN are laughing.)
KUANG FU: Now that’s interesting.
BAOZHEN (with a touch of self-satisfaction): That kind of thing happens a lot. When a “little teacher” holds class, the grown-ups sometimes like to make trouble. For example, we would ask, “Do you understand that? Those who do, raise your hands,” and at that point they would stick their feet up, just to have fun with us. So I told everybody, “Don’t pay any attention to them. Grown-ups who don’t know how to behave are worse than we children.” The children ignored them and studied as usual, and later on they stopped trying to fight me.
KUANG FU: Hm …
BAOZHEN: The “middle teacher” who teaches us said to me that they must have been thinking how humiliating it was for a child to know something they didn’t.
KUANG FU: Are there a lot of those “big students”?
BAOZHEN: I teach five: a fruit seller, a laborer—there’s an old man whose grandson is as tall as I am.
KUANG FU: Then you—
A XIANG: Baozhen, teach me a song.
BAOZHEN: Wait a minute for your brother to get here. I’m teaching him a really good one.
A XIANG: I still haven’t learned the one you taught me yesterday.
BAOZHEN: Yesterday’s? Hm …
(As she goes through the song on the piano, KUANG FU avidly watches them.)
A NIU (taking his schoolbook over to his father): Dad, “‘A’ saves sixty-five dollars a month; after three years and eight months, what do his total savings come to?” What’s the answer?
ZHAO ZHENYU (assuming a strict attitude): A Niu! If you bother me again when I’m reading, you can forget about hearing any more of my stories.
A NIU (goes to his mother): Mom, somebody saves sixty-five dollars every month; after three years and eight months, how much does he have altogether?
ZHAO’S WIFE: Saves money? Who is that, pray tell? If we don’t run into debt we’re doing all right. Think we have anything leftover? Sixty-five dollars every month! Are you dreaming?
A NIU: It’s in the book.
ZHAO’S WIFE: What does something in a book have to do with us? Sixty-five dollars, hah! If your dad has six dollars and fifty cents left every month, it’s a miracle!
A NIU (can do nothing now but go back to the table): Three years and eight months, three years, thirty-six months …
(HUANG JIAMEI, holding an umbrella, returns with bananas, apples, and biscuits; he hurries upstairs. LIN ZHICHENG tries to stand up, but his legs give way, and he sits down again.)
LIN ZHICHENG: Hm, I have such a feeling of relief tonight!
HUANG’S FATHER (loudly): I told you before not to buy anything; take it back to the store, go on, take it back!
GUIFEN (loudly): It’s nothing much, just a snack for the trip.
HUANG’S FATHER: I don’t want anything! Jiamei, I can’t eat that foreign stuff …
YANG CAIYU (helps LIN ZHICHENG to his feet): You’ve had too much; go to bed.
LIN ZHICHENG No, no, just a drop or two …
KUANG FU: Go take a rest, Zhicheng! I—I—
LIN ZHICHENG: No, no, I want to have a talk with you.
(YANG CAIYU helps him into the back room.)
A NIU (once again takes the book to his mother): Mom, a man named Wang gets paid three hundred and fifty dollars a month, and a man named Li gets two hundred and eighty. After three years, what’s—
ZHAO’S WIFE (before he can finish, as if exploding): I don’t want to hear any more of that business! Your dad doesn’t even make thirty-five dollars a month!
ZHAO ZHENYU (startled): What’s that?
A NIU (pleading): Tell me! The teacher’s going to ask me tomorrow. It’s something in the book. A man named Wang gets three hundred and fifty dollars a month …
ZHAO’S WIFE (irritably): Go ask somebody who’s rich; I’ve never laid eyes on three hundred and fifty dollars in my whole life!
A NIU (in resignation goes to his father): Dad, after three years, what’s the difference between the amount of money each one has?
ZHAO ZHENYU: Hm, hm, three hundred and fifty and two hundred and what?
A NIU: Two hundred and eighty …
ZHAO ZHENYU: What you have to do first is find out the difference between the two men’s salaries of one month, do you get that?
(He does some calculations with his pen.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (still incensed): Three hundred and fifty dollars a month’s salary, saves sixty-five dollars a month, fantastic!
A NIU (turns around in rebuttal): It’s in the book!
ZHAO’S WIFE: In the book, huh? This kind of book is for the rich people!
ZHAO ZHENYU (to A NIU): Hey, hey, look, look at what I’m doing here.
(YANG CAIYU waits for LIN ZHICHENG to get into bed, then pours a cup of tea and places it on the bedside table.)
YANG CAIYU: Would you like some tea?
(LIN ZHICHENG mumbles a reply, as if already asleep. She puts a small quilt over him. Carefully opening a chest with a key, she takes out a large quilt and spreads it over a smaller bed. She then takes the pillow from the small bed into the parlor. BAOZHEN finishes teaching her song.)
KUANG FU (with great enthusiasm): Hm, then on rainy days like these, don’t your students skip class? They’re all …
BAOZHEN (proudly): Not a bit. Not only on rainy days, they come even when it’s snowing, and they’re not a minute late. They’re more on time even than the students at school assembly. A few days ago a fruit seller’s kid—
YANG CAIYU (interrupts): Calling the others “kids” makes you an adult, I suppose? (She laughs.)
BAOZHEN: A fruit seller’s daughter was coming to learn how to read. When somebody outside yelled, “Anybody have any bananas for sale?” she didn’t even answer but ran straight over to us with basket and everything.
KUANG FU: Hm, that’s a good story. But I’ll tell you something: when we were little, we’d always pretend to have a stomachache and ask the teacher to let us stay home.
BAOZHEN (innocently): Then you weren’t a very good student!
YANG CAIYU: Baozhen!
BAOZHEN: If one of our students gets lazy and doesn’t come to class, the next time he has to write on the board! “So-and-so is a lazybones and doesn’t work”!
KUANG FU (unable to keep from laughing; then, off guard): But when you were little, you used to be lazy, too!
BAOZHEN: I was? How did you know that?
(YANG CAIYU gives KUANG FU a warning glance.)
KUANG FU: Ah, that’s not right; I was talking about my own daughter. She’s the same age as you …
BAOZHEN (looks at KUANG FU closely, then at YANG CAIYU): Mom! (Steps away) I have a question to ask you.
YANG CAIYU: What?
(She follows her.)
BAOZHEN (softly, so that KUANG FU cannot hear): Just now Mrs. Zhao told me—(whispers in her ear) … Is that right?
(She glances at KUANG FU.)
YANG CAIYU (somewhat embarrassed): Nonsense! Oh, don’t bother about it—that’s something that concerns grown-ups; just don’t bother about that.
BAOZHEN (pouting): I’m a grown-up now. Tell me, come on, tell me, is it the truth? Hey …
(She leans up so that her ear is close to her mother’s mouth.)
YANG CAIYU: What a nuisance; you’re such a busybody!
BAOZHEN: Is it true? Nod your head if it is!
YANG CAIYU: Busybody!
(She nods.)
BAOZHEN: Ah!
(She jumps up and looks at KUANG FU without blinking. LIN ZHICHENG turns over, listening.)
KUANG FU (unmindful now of anything else, walks toward her): Baozhen! Say it to me! Say it to me!
BAOZHEN (faltering): Da—(runs away bashfully) … A Niu! A Niu!
KUANG FU (breaks out in fresh, spontaneous laughter, in sharp contrast to his previous melancholy and taciturnity): Ha, ha …
(The laughter arouses LIN ZHICHENG; he sits up and listens.)
A NIU: I’m busy! You come over here!
YANG CAIYU (joyfully): Do you think she … ?
KUANG FU: There’s a saying from overseas, “We live through our issue”! The spirit I had ten years ago still survives in Baozhen. She has taught me so much!
YANG CAIYU (gripping his hand): That’s right, and you’re still young. For her sake, you should try all the harder now! (Picks up a mirror from the table and holds it up to him)
See?
(She laughs.)
KUANG FU: Oh, I’m so grateful to you. And you, too, should—
YANG CAIYU: Fusheng!
(They embrace.)
BAOZHEN (at the door of the back room): A Niu, come on, I’ll teach you a song!
A NIU: Wait a minute. Figure it out for me; A gets a salary of three hundred and fifty dollars a month, and B gets …
ZHAO’S WIFE (furiously): I don’t want to hear any more about it! If you have to do your arithmetic, go to the front room. (Muttering) Three hundred and fifty indeed …
ZHAO ZHENYU: Ha, ha …
(Making a face, A NIU tiptoes to the parlor. On hearing his approach, YANG CAIYU steps away.)
YANG CAIYU (pointing to KUANG FU’s shirt): Oh, it’s torn here. Take it off and I’ll mend it for you. You won’t get too cold, will you?
KUANG FU (taking off his shirt): No, no, it’s so hot and humid.
YANG CAIYU (hands him his jacket, now dried): You’re not very strong. If you’re not careful, you’ll catch a chill …
BAOZHEN (to A NIU): Where’s your dad? Go get him to tell a story.
A NIU: Let’s sing first, then he’ll come over.
(BAOZHEN brings out her toy piano and a songbook. After mulling things over for a long while, LIN ZHICHENG gets up in a determined manner, then holds his head in his hands, thinking. HUANG JIAMEI glumly comes downstairs carrying a net basket.)
GUIFEN (at the garret door): Jiamei, we need three rickshaws.
HUANG JIAMEI (turns his head): What’s that? GUIFEN: I’m going, too.
HUANG JIAMEI: Then the baby will wake up …
GUIFEN: It won’t matter if he does. I’ve arranged with Mrs. Zhao to look after him.
(HUANG JIAMEI puts the basket under the stairs and leaves to get the rickshaws. A XIANG sneaks out in the direction of the parlor.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (to his wife): Huh, is he really leaving?
(She pays no attention. ZHAO ZHENYU stretches.)
Ah, ah … Where’s A Niu? A Xiang!
(He stealthily gets to his feet and glances at his wife, thinks about sneaking away as well, but just as he is about to move—)
ZHAO’S WIFE: Where are you going?
ZHAO ZHENYU: Nowhere; I’m going to look for A Xiang!
ZHAO’S WIFE: No you don’t! Forgetting your own age and learning songs from children; aren’t you ashamed?
ZHAO ZHENYU: What’s the matter with that? Confucius said that to feel no shame—
ZHAO’S WIFE (in a swift counterattack): I don’t want to hear about your precious Confucius!
(From outside the gate come sounds of rickshaws and voices.)
HUANG JIAMEI’S VOICE: Come in and get the luggage! (Enters and shouts upstairs) The rickshaws are here!
GUIFEN’S VOICE: You come up! Papa won’t let me carry the luggage!
VOICE OF HUANG’S FATHER: It’s not heavy, not heavy at all …
HUANG JIAMEI (going to a rickshaw man): The net basket goes. (Turns to ZHAO ZHENYU)
Mr. Zhao, sorry, but would you mind keeping an eye on things?
ZHAO ZHENYU: Fine, fine.
HUANG JIAMEI (going upstairs): I’ll get it, Dad!
HUANG’S FATHER (comes down carrying an old-fashioned chest): If I can’t even manage this little thing, how am I supposed to do any planting? Have to haul a load of rice, too …
(He refuses HUANG JIAMEI’s offer of help.)
HUANG JIAMEI: Dad, let the rickshaw man …
GUIFEN (comes down holding the boy): Heavens, older people are really—
(She turns the light off in the garret.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (sticks up his thumb toward HUANG’S FATHER): Bravo! Bravo!
HUANG’S FATHER (proudly): That’s nothing; when I was young, I used to haul two hundred pounds of grain and still … (When a drop of rain from the eaves falls on his neck, looks up at the sky) Still raining? Damn! The lord in heaven never gives poor people a break! Got to get back right away! The land by Xia’s Pond must be washed away by now! (When a rickshaw man comes up to take the luggage, he is refused firmly, but to HUANG JIAMEI, as if suddenly remembering something) Keep an eye on this! I …
GUIFEN: Mrs. Zhao, I’m really sorry to trouble you with the baby. He’s sleeping right now …
ZHAO’S WIFE: Fine, I’ll hold him.
HUANG’S FATHER (comes back in): Let me hold him one more time. (Takes the baby) Mm, sound asleep. (Leans down and nuzzles him) Mm, mm, I’m not getting any younger, and I never know what the next day is going to bring. (Half to HUANG JIAMEI, half to himself) You never come out to the farm, and I can’t come to see you very often. Maybe … I won’t be able to hold him too many more times. Mm, one more time. (To GUIFEN) Take good care of him now. Let him eat all he wants, and whatever he wants. None of this foreign business about several hours between meals; you’ll starve him to skin and bones that way! (When no one is looking, stuffs a paper envelope into the child’s clothing) Ha, ha, ha … (To ZHAO ZHENYU) Once you’ve held your own grandson, you’ve lived a full life. Ha, ha …
ZHAO ZHENYU (loudly into HUANG’S FATHER’s ear): Fortune has been good to you!
HUANG’S FATHER (joyfully): Thank you! Goodbye!
(Gives the child to GUIFEN, who puts him on the Zhaos’ bed.)
HUANG JIAMEI: Mr. Zhao, I’m sorry to trouble you like this!
ZHAO ZHENYU: Not at all.
HUANG’S FATHER (at the gate, turns back once more to ZHAO ZHENYU and the others): Come on down to the country and see us sometime! Ha, ha …
(HUANG JIAMEI and his wife exit with HUANG’S FATHER. The sound of rickshaw men shouting is heard.)
ZHAO’S WIFE: A Niu! A Xiang!
(The steadily increasing rain pours through the downspouts.)
Damn, it just keeps on raining—for most of the month, drip, drip, drip!
ZHAO ZHENYU: What are you upset about? So it keeps on raining; it’ll clear up someday.
ZHAO’S WIFE: It’ll clear up, huh? Take a look for yourself!
ZHAO ZHENYU (placidly): Even so, do you say the rain will last all year?
ZHAO’S WIFE (angrily): I’m through talking to you! (Sees ZHAO ZHENYU timidly sneaking out) Where do you think you’re going?
ZHAO ZHENYU: Uh, I’m going to check on A Niu …
ZHAO’S WIFE: To check on A Niu! We don’t even have any money for groceries tomorrow, and it seems it’s up to me alone to run this household; as soon as you get home, it’s read your newspaper, read your books, blather on about God knows what, and sing songs with the children, not giving a damn about anything to do with household …
(ZHAO ZHENYU is aware that she is off on another of her tirades and quickens his steps in the direction of the parlor. In the back room, LIN ZHICHENG, after a siege of agonized reflection, gets to his feet, as if he has settled on a plan of action. He stands in the dark, absorbed in thought and listening to the conversation in the front room.)
BAOZHEN: When I raise my hand (to A NIU and A XIANG), sing in unison, and when I drop my hand, listen to me sing the solo, got that?
A XIANG (shaking her head): I don’t know it!
BAOZHEN: Listen to me play it through first!
YANG CAIYU (finishes with the mending): Finished. Now put it on; it’s going to cool off soon.
(She puts it on him.)
ZHAO ZHENYU (steps in, mistakes KUANG FU, whose back is toward him, for LIN ZHICHENG): Ah, Mr. Lin, didn’t your factory have a big—(when KUANG FU turns his head in ZHAO ZHENYU’s direction) ah, I’m sorry, uh, uh … (To YANG CAIYU) Where is Mr. Lin? Has he gone out? I—I was—
KUANG FU (a bit ill at ease): Your name, sir?
ZHAO ZHENYU (searching a long time for a name card but cannot find one): Ah, ah, I’m Zhao Zhenyu. May I ask …
YANG CAIYU (speaking for KUANG FU): Mr. Kuang, Zhicheng’s old classmate …
ZHAO ZHENYU: Oh (offers his hand), it’s a pleasure … ha, ha … Mr. Lin and I really get along very very well—
A NIU (before he can finish): Come on, Dad, tell us a story!
ZHAO ZHENYU: What, a story? Haven’t I finished telling it?
A NIU (pushing him): Tell us one!
ZHAO ZHENYU: Ha, ha … We have a visitor today, and we’re talking. Uh, sing some songs, why don’t you?
BAOZHEN: No, no, tell us a story first, and after you get through, I’ll teach you a fine song, one I just learned today!
ZHAO ZHENYU (to KUANG FU): Will you look at them, always wanting me to tell—ha, ha, what’ll I tell this time? Say, how about an old favorite, one about Napoléon …
A XIANG: No, you’ve told us about Napoléon ten times already.
ZHAO ZHENYU: But you’ve forgotten what I just asked you, haven’t you? When Napoléon was sent in exile to Elba, what did he say?
A XIANG: No, no!
ZHAO ZHENYU: Well … well then, you sing your songs now and let me think of something … (Turns back and glances into the room, then to YANG CAIYU) Has Mr. Lin gone out?
YANG CAIYU: No, he had a little too much to drink and is sleeping in back …
ZHAO ZHENYU: Hm? Mr. Lin drinking? That’s strange; I thought he never used to touch it.
A NIU: Dad, listen to this, “Brave little children …”
(BAOZHEN plays the piano. Meanwhile, LIN ZHICHENG quietly packs some things together in the back room, as if preparing to leave. YANG CAIYU, reminded by ZHAO ZHENYU, goes to the back room to look in on him and is astonished to see him standing in the dark.)
YANG CAIYU: Oh dear, you’re up?
(KUANG FU listens to this intently, while ZHAO ZHENYU and his children are listening to BAOZHEN teaching her song. LIN ZHICHENG gestures to her to be quiet.)
What’s the matter with you? (Turns on the light) Aren’t you feeling well? (Sees that he is packing and stops in surprise) What are you doing?
(In the lane, a wonton peddler shouts.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: Who taught it to you?
BAOZHEN: Never mind about that. I’ll teach it to you now.
(She plays the piano.)
YANG CAIYU (alarmed, but softly): Zhicheng! What are you doing? You—
LIN ZHICHENG (looks at her without replying, then, as if having made up his mind, stretches out his hand to her): I have to be going now, Caiyu.
YANG CAIYU: Going?
(She grips his hand.)
LIN ZHICHENG (nods): I’ve nothing to worry about now, and it’s time for me to leave.
YANG CAIYU: But …
(She turns and is about to call to KUANG FU but is pulled back by LIN ZHICHENG.)
LIN ZHICHENG (softly): Don’t let Fusheng find out; let me go quietly! (Grips YANG CAIYU’s hands again) I wish you both well.
YANG CAIYU: No, no, Zhicheng, where are you going?
LIN ZHICHENG (shakes his head): Right now I don’t know myself, but no matter what …
YANG CAIYU (panicky): What do you mean? Are you going to—
LIN ZHICHENG (stops her): No, I’m free now, and content. Just as long as you and Fusheng can forgive me, I’ll have peace of mind.
(KUANG FU is listening closely, his expression troubled.)
YANG CAIYU (weeping): But you …
LIN ZHICHENG: Don’t cry! No matter what, the world has a lot of room in it, and there has to be one place where I won’t be the odd man out. All right then! Caiyu! Forget about me, forget all about me. Look on these past eight years as a dream.
YANG CAIYU: No, no, you can’t go, I—I can’t let you go—I know (weeping), I know you don’t want to leave us—
LIN ZHICHENG (in a burst of emotion): Caiyu!
(He holds her tightly as she sobs. KUANG FU is standing, lost in thought.)
BAOZHEN: Good, now watch my hand, one, two, three …
(She sings.)
“Little children, little children,
Everyone clasp hands and join in the game!”
ALL (in unison):
“Little children, little children,
Everyone clasp hands and join in the game!”
BAOZHEN (sings): “Who is a brave little child?”
ALL (in unison): “I am, I am!”
BAOZHEN (sings): “Let me ask you this.”
ALL (in unison): “Go ahead and ask, go ahead and ask!”
BAOZHEN (sings): “If the bandits come, will you fight?”
ALL (in unison):
“We’ll fight, we’ll fight!
If one’s not enough, everybody help!”
BAOZHEN (sings):
“Right! If one’s not enough, everybody help!
When you walk in the dark, are you afraid?”
ALL (in unison):
“I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid!
If I fall, I can pick myself up!”
BAOZHEN (sings): “Right! If I fall, I can pick myself up!”
(KUANG FU becomes absorbed in their song.)
(Sings) “When you cry, are you foolish or not?”
ALL (in unison):
“You’re foolish, you’re foolish,
You’re a good-for-nothing fool!”
BAOZHEN (sings):
“Right! You’re a good-for-nothing fool!
When the going gets rough, are you afraid?”
ALL (in unison):
“I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid!
The rougher it gets, the braver I am!”
BAOZHEN (sings):
“Right! The rougher it gets, the braver I am!
Good! We’re all brave little children!
All uniting to save our country!”
ALL (in unison): “Save our country!”
BAOZHEN AND OTHERS (in unison):
“Good! We’re all brave little children!
All uniting to save our country! Save our country!”
(The children and ZHAO ZHENYU applaud enthusiastically.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: That was wonderful! “When you cry, are you foolish or not?” that’s in the story about Napoléon, too. Napoléon had never cried before, so—
A NIU: Baozhen, sing the first few lines again by yourself!
BAOZHEN: You still don’t get it? You really are an ox—(looks at ZHAO ZHENYU and laughs) then listen!
(She softly sings again, everyone joining in. KUANG FU comes to a decision, and his expression is no longer as forlorn as before. As if to keep BAOZHEN and the others from noticing, he takes up a pen, leans over the desk, and writes something. He then stands and walks over to BAOZHEN.)
KUANG FU: Come here! Let me look at you!
BAOZHEN (stops singing, surprised): What’s the matter? Don’t you think we sing well?
KUANG FU (nods emphatically): You sing very well, Baozhen. You deserve to be a “little teacher”; you’ve certainly taught me a lot!
(Upon hearing KUANG FU’s voice, LIN ZHICHENG and YANG CAIYU fall silent.)
BAOZHEN (innocently): You sing, too, okay?
KUANG FU: No, no, it’s all clear in my mind now, Baozhen! Let me have another look at you! (Overcome with emotion, kisses her tenderly) You be a brave little child now! My blessings go with you, through the rest of your life! Goodbye!
BAOZHEN (changes from shyness to surprise): What do you mean? Are you going? Da—
KUANG FU (stops her): Goodbye!
(He holds her tightly, then, taking his hat and stepping out into the rain, quickly pulls the gate open and is gone.)
BAOZHEN (puzzled, as she watches him leave): Mom! Daddy—is going away!
(A NIU, A XIANG, and ZHAO ZHENYU are at a loss. LIN ZHICHENG and YANG CAIYU run out, YANG CAIYU wiping her eyes with her sleeve.)
LIN ZHICHENG: What’s happened?
YANG CAIYU: Going away?!
(She sees the note on the table.)
LIN ZHICHENG (snatches up the note): He …
YANG CAIYU: What does it say?
LIN ZHICHENG (reads aloud in a puzzled tone): “It makes me very happy to know now that your life together means more than just survival! I realize that by staying on, I would be disturbing the peace you share … I shall always love you both …”
YANG CAIYU (half crazed): Fusheng! (Rushing out into the rain without waiting for LIN ZHICHENG) Fusheng!
LIN ZHICHENG (comes to his senses): Yes, I’ve got to get him back!
(He rushes out.)
ZHAO ZHENYU: What is going on?
(BAOZHEN, shocked, looks at the others. A XIANG runs out to look but shrinks back immediately when the cold rain hits her. Amid the sound of rain and the shouts of the wonton peddler, the back gate squeaks open, and SHI XIAOBAO enters. Her clothes are torn, and her hair is awry. Her face is streaked with tears. She almost hurls a handful of coins at a rickshaw man, and half of them fall onto the ground. As the rickshaw man picks up the coins, he stares at her in surprise. ZHAO’S WIFE, startled from her nap by the noise, looks up, glaring, and sees SHI XIAOBAO’s sorry condition, then, curious, gets up. While SHI XIAOBAO is running straight upstairs, ZHAO’S WIFE follows her to the staircase and stares upward. SHI XIAOBAO runs into her room, turns on the light, and collapses onto the bed, weeping.)
SHI XIAOBAO: Johnnie, Johnnie …
(She sobs.)
ZHAO’S WIFE (with a disgusted expression): Pah! (Looks toward the parlor) A Niu! A Xiang!
It’s late!
(On hearing his wife’s shouts, ZHAO ZHENYU returns on tiptoe.)
(Angrily) You’re hopeless, always with those children. A Niu! A Xiang!
A NIU (makes a face): We’re singing.
(There is a knock at the back gate, and when ZHAO ZHENYU opens it, HUANG JIAMEI and GUIFEN enter, their clothes drenched.)
HUANG JIAMEI (notices ZHAO ZHENYU): Sorry! In all this rain! (To his wife, resentfully) I said to take a rickshaw, but no, you wanted to walk …
GUIFEN (to ZHAO’S WIFE): Thank you, Mrs. Zhao. Did he wake up?
ZHAO’S WIFE: No, he’s been sleeping nicely.
GUIFEN (holding the child): Thank you. It’s late; see you tomorrow! (Goes to the staircase, then to HUANG JIAMEI) Yes, we could have taken a rickshaw, and there would have gone tomorrow’s grocery money … (Climbs a couple of steps, then turns around, as if having made a sudden discovery) Jiamei!
HUANG JIAMEI: What?
GUIFEN: Look! It’s … (Takes a red envelope from the child’s pocket) Your father must have left it for him.
HUANG JIAMEI (his eyes wide with astonishment): Huh? Let me see!
(As he grabs the envelope, one or two silver dollars roll onto the ground.)
GUIFEN (snatches them up): What in the world …
HUANG JIAMEI (counts out several bills and three silver dollars, then stands stock-still on the stairs, a grief-stricken expression on his pale face): Probably the only money Dad has left after all the sweat and pain he’s been through! (Bitterly) We tried to deceive him! We tried to deceive him, but he knew all the time!
(GUIFEN suddenly breaks out in tears.)
(In sorrow, to the baby) You must never forget, your grandfather’s hopes in me have come to nothing, and now they lie in you!
GUIFEN (stops him): Sh, don’t wake him up …
(With her head bent down, she carries her son upstairs, followed by HUANG JIAMEI. The garret light comes on, and GUIFEN’s sobs can be heard faintly. The front gate opens, and LIN ZHICHENG enters holding YANG CAIYU; both are soaked by the rain. As if in a daze, they walk into their room and forget to close the door, the children watching them in amazement. LIN ZHICHENG stands with his head bowed.)
BAOZHEN: Mom, what’s the matter?
YANG CAIYU (pays no attention; after a moment, suddenly, to LIN ZHICHENG): He wouldn’t … he wouldn’t take his own life, would he?
LIN ZHICHENG (startled): What?
YANG CAIYU: What if something should happen …
(She gives a choked sob.)
LIN ZHICHENG (gravely): I think you can rest assured on that score. Look, he says, “Baozhen has taught me so very much. In leaving you, I am not running in flight, and I will never disappoint you. Live your lives in courage, my friends. Goodbye!”
(YANG CAIYU reads the letter.)
He will hold on to his courage, for all of us who suffer …
YANG CAIYU (bursts out in bitter weeping): Fusheng!
(Without a word LIN ZHICHENG steps up and puts his arm around her heaving shoulders. There is the sound of rain. BAOZHEN walks over and tugs at her mother’s dress. LI LINGBEI comes down from the attic, one step at a time, singing sadly to himself.)
LI LINGBEI (sings): “Day after day, burning oil pours onto my heart …”
A NIU (frowns toward BAOZHEN and A XIANG): Oh, there goes Li Lingbei again. Don’t listen to him; let’s sing! (Sings) “When you cry, are you foolish or not?”
A NIU AND A XIANG (in unison):
“You’re foolish, you’re foolish,
You’re a good-for-nothing fool!”
BAOZHEN (joins in):
“Right! You’re a good-for-nothing fool!
When the going gets rough, are you afraid?”
A NIU AND A XIANG (in unison):
“You’re foolish, you’re foolish,
You’re a good-for-nothing fool!”
BAOZHEN (sings): “Right! The rougher it gets, the braver I am!”
(LIN ZHICHENG and YANG CAIYU realize what the children are singing and look up. While his wife is turned the other way, ZHAO ZHENYU comes in again on tiptoe and listens to the children’s singing.)
ALL (in unison):
“Good! We’re all brave little children,
All uniting to save our country! Save our country!”
(During the song, the curtain slowly falls.)
NOTES
This translation is based on the text in Zhongguo xin wenxue daxi xubian (Continuation to the Compendium of New Chinese Literature) (Hong Kong: Xianggang wenxue, 1968), 9:379–452.
1. Niu means “ox.” Along with the southern familiar prefix “A,” it makes up the boy’s childhood name; on formal occasions he would be called by his legal given name, Zhen. In the same way, A Xiang is his sister’s childhood name, or “milk name.”
2. “A Tuo” is a derisive term for “stepchild.”
3. “Savings” is a euphemism for a mandatory deduction from a worker’s wages.
4. The “floating corpses” were those of miners and factory workers tossed into rivers after they had been beaten or collapsed from exhaustion under abusive labor conditions. During the 1930s such incidents were familiar enough to inspire the play Fushi (Floating Corpse), by Yu Ling, another communist playwright, written at the same time as Under Shanghai Eaves. For the text of that play, see Yu Ling, Yu Ling juzuo xuan (Selected Plays of Yu Ling) (Beijing: Renmin wenxue, 1958), 136–77.
5. Ma Lianliang (1902–1967) was a leading actor of “old man” (laosheng) roles in opera, whose very successful career lasted until the Cultural Revolution in the mid-1960s.
6. The January 28 Campaign, or Shanghai Incident, of 1932 involved Japanese ground and air attacks on the city of Shanghai to break a boycott there of Japanese goods. Chinese troops assisted by civilians resisted until the Chinese government reached an accommodation with Japan in May of that year.
7. Xue Pinggui is the name of a character in various local traditional operas, a warrior from an impoverished background.