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Wang Guoxun. What a fine-sounding name!
Wang was our Big Brother. He knew the names of all the hundred and eight heroes in The Water Margin. He used to tell us that when he was young, his father had made him read The Four Books and The Five Classics, the whole lot, and that when his father died, all that stuff got buried together with the old man's body. He was a great admirer of Wu Song the tiger-fighter. He often said, "Wu Song is a man, a real man. Doesn't give a damn about money or women. Knows right from wrong."
Wang was a good son to his mother, always obedient. Like Wu Song, he believed in righting injustices. We all loved him, he was our true friend. Everybody in Zhao Ford knew Big Brother Wang.
Big Brother Wang had one weakness: he loved women. He was nuts about the daughter of the owner of the local milk-shed, a girl he had grown up with. She was a real cracker, we called her Milky Beauty. She had a job as a reeler in the silk factory. You know, I am not much of a womanizer, and yet, even I had a soft spot for her.
The factory we worked in closed for the day half an hour earlier than MB's silk factory. When we got off work, more often than not, we went to the teahouse in the pentagonal fair-ground and drank tea and waited for MB.
The pentagonal was great fun. If our town was known as Little Shanghai—and a lot of people called it that—then the pentagonal should be regarded as its Nanjing Road. There was a square of grass in the middle of the ground. On that square a range of entertainments were to hand. You could watch an acrobatic performance, or you could enjoy a peep-show. Opposite the teahouse was a cinema. Buses and trams circled round the square, rickshaws were everywhere, and, from time to time, there were a few motor-cars and bicycles. By three, the place was packed, thronged with factory workers who arrived on foot or by handcart. The students from the college at one end of the town were also there, to mix with the crowd or to watch the fun.
The college kids were a cut above us. Some dressed in the Chinese fashion, others were turned out in the western style, but all of them wore black leather shoes, which made them walk with self-assurance and a tinge of belligerence. I admired these college kids, for their judgement: among the hundreds and thousands of factory girls, they could tell at a glance which ones were pretty, which ones plain, and they never made a mistake.
That was too much of a digression.
We sat around together, smoking cigarettes, drinking tea, listening to the latest gossip, and it was great fun. Our town was full of news. The most sensational item of that month was the marriage of Ah Ying from the Huang family to a college student. Ah Ying was also one of the town beauties. Who wouldn't have wanted to sample such a dainty dish? But when it became known that she was having an affair with a college student, she was condemned by everyone; everyone said she was a disgrace. In our town, apart from the few small shopkeepers, everybody detested the college students. You couldn't reason with them, these students. When they were on a rampage, nothing could stop them. If you offended one of them, he might just glare at you, but equally, he might drive you right up to the river bank, which was no laughing matter. You know, there are two sides to our town; the shops are on one side, the river on the other. The northern women in the boats in the river—women who hailed from central Jiangsu—were real sluts; I can't think of anything more unpleasant than being got at by them with their smelly bound feet.
But that was another digression.
As we waited in the teahouse, Milky Beauty arrived. We saw her from far away and told Big Brother Wang she was coming. He darted out of the teahouse, cutting a fine figure as he went running and leaping through the crowd to meet her. What happened next is great fun. Guess what they did—I bet you will never get it. MB gave Big Brother a smile. Without saying a word, Big Brother took over her lunch basket from her and simply walked on. Isn't that fun? But don't think they didn't speak to each other. As soon as they were out of our sight—or thought they were—they were all jaw.
We decided to tail after them.
Along the river to our left were the costermongers' stalls; the shops were on our right. BB and MB turned the corner just beyond Shuntai the grocers', then they walked on past Dai Chunlin the department store. After that they came to a pretty deserted part of the town. Here they struck up a conversation. If you'd listened to this conversation of theirs, it'd have given you pleasant dreams that night. We followed on, until they came to Jackie's. Jackie's, such as it is, is, as you know, the only foreign restaurant in our town. When they got to Jackie's, MB turned into an alley, while BB stood outside the restaurant, a fine figure, watching till the girl went into her house.
Don't think for a moment that Big Brother Wang cared only for that girl and didn't care for us, his sworn brothers. BB was devoted to MB, he was also devoted to us. When MB was safely home, BB came away with us back to our part of town. On the way BB chatted with us and shared our jokes. You know what, if I didn't have that little dicky of mine, I would gladly have married BB myself. And that would have been a good thing as BB was any number of times better than the college kids. And don't think that BB could be interested in just any member of the fair sex. BB whose neck was strong, whose chest was broad, would never turn his head or strain his eye to look at a woman when he saw one. It was only in the presence of MB that BB softened: then the divine warrior was transformed into the Buddha.
BB was constantly going over in his mind when he might dispatch a go-between to MB's parents, when he might send the ceremonial documents over, when he might arrange for the delivery of the matrimonial cakes and things, when he might see MB enter his house as his bride.
"When we get married, Little Jadie and I," BB often said to us—MB's real name was Fang Yayu and because the last syllable of the name means "jade", BB was in the habit of calling her "Little Jadie"—"When we get married, all of us will make our happy home in the Water Margin of Liangshan in Shandong. If anyone dares to come near us in a motor-car I'll beat the living daylights out of him."
BB couldn't stand the motor-car.
Outside the teahouse on the pentagonal ground there was an elderly fruit pedlar whom we called Old Wang. One day while we were drinking tea after work as per usual, a car drove up and knocked over his stall. That, we thought, was a bit much. But guess what the policeman did when he came up? Instead of telling the man in the car to pay for the damage, he gave Old Wang a talking-to, saying he shouldn't have been obstructing traffic. You tell me, wouldn't that get anybody's dander up?
Then there was the time when it was raining. The road was all muddy. BB and MB were picking their way through the drier patches when a car came right up from behind. With the road so slippery and all you might end up on your backside any minute if you weren't double careful and do you think you would still mind your manners and act genteel? The bugger in the car didn't give a damn but came at them at top speed. MB got flustered and dodged and fell into a puddle of water. BB was beside himself with anger but what was the use? The car shot past and BB's clothes were splattered all over with muddy water. And the bugger in the car, a playboy no less, he was gleeful. Is it any wonder that BB came to loathe the motor-car?
But getting back to our story—
You know there's a small park across the road from the college, don't you? Try spending an afternoon there. It'll only cost you ten coppers. Satisfaction is guaranteed, it being truly comfy. My dear reader, friend, do go, some afternoon when you are free. It's right on your doorstep and it doesn't cost much. BB went every Saturday afternoon, with MB. My word, BB was a sight for sore eyes. You should have seen him in his black serge Chinese tunic suit, brown leather shoes and white socks. MB was dressed like the women undergraduates, except that she wasn't wearing high-heels. BB was a head taller than MB. The two made a lovely couple—a couple that one would envy.
When they had done walking in the park they came out and went to Jackie's for a bite before going to the cinema to see a film. Eh? Pardon me, don't think they ever got up to anything in the dark. BB wasn't like one of your slick and oily popinjays. Just looking at him you'd know he'd behave himself.
We lived, the lot of us, from day to day, sitting in the teahouse, smoking cigarettes, listening to whatever news there was, watching out for and then watching the action, looking forward to the day when BB and Milky Beauty would get married so that we could go and take occupation of the Water Margin of Liangshan in Shandong, where we would recruit soldiers and buy horses and set up a shrine for the Chinese Robin Hood, so that we could attract real men of honesty and dedication and carry out the mandate of Heaven, killing all the corrupt officials, kicking out all foreign devils—those fucking foreign devils strutting and swaggering in China who must be got rid of before any Chinese can hold his head high.
I find the college kids offensive, as I think I've told you. If there happens to be any pretty woman around, those kids just can't leave them alone. Anyway, MB eventually caught their eye. Well, that's it, my friend, but in any case I hope you'll bear with me. It's a long story and I'll tell you from the beginning.
One day, when we were drinking tea in the teahouse, someone or other started talking about our trooping off to the hill fortress of Liangshan. He regretted that we were short of a Gongsun Sheng, someone who knew witchcraft and the related arts. Wisdom Star said he knew someone who fitted the bill. Wisdom Star, you know, was the title we conferred upon Old Chen who, despite the fact that he was short of stature and had tiny frog-like eyes, was full of ruses and stratagems that none could match. It was Wisdom Star who recommended that the Recluse of Emei be appointed our Gong sun Sheng. According to Wisdom Star, the Recluse of Emei, who made his living as a fortune-teller, had "powers". Who knows he might be able to send for the wind and order the rain about, remove mountains and drain seas, and therefore, he should be made our strategist.
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