During his oration, the magistrate singled out Fragrant Lotus Hall in his exhortation against the evils of foot binding. “It is a poisonous legacy of a feudal system,” he said, “a morbid aspect of life.” Everyone turned to gape at Mother’s feet; she didn’t dare look up. The magistrate then read the anti-foot binding proclamation, after which he summoned the women he’d brought along to perform the “Natural Foot Olio.” Six young women jumped spryly out of the open car, chattering as they showed off their fine figures. “Fellow villagers and elders, boys and girls, open your eyes wide and watch this!” the magistrate said. Everyone stared at the women, who wore their hair short, with bangs across the forehead, and were dressed in long-sleeved sky blue blouses with turn-down collars over short white skirts that showed a lot of leg. Short white socks and white sneakers completed the outfit.
A breath of fresh air had blown into the bosom of Northeast Gaomi Township.
After lining up and bowing to the crowd, the young women raised their brows and began to recite in unison: “We have natural feet, no abnormal fads, our bodies are precious, they came from moms and dads” – they bounced up and down, raising their feet high in the air to show their natural beauty – “we can run and jump and play in the rain, not like crippled feet that bring so much pain” – more bouncing and running around – “the feudal system is bad for a woman, who is only a toy, but we have natural feet, so take off your wrappings, girls, and share in our joy.”
As the “natural feet” girls hopped and bounced away, their place was taken by an orthopedic surgeon who brought an oversized model of the foot to demonstrate how the broken bones of bound feet forever altered the shape of the foot.
Just before the meeting ended, Magistrate Niu had a brainstorm. He ordered that Northeast Gaomi’s number one golden lotus come up and bear witness to how disgusting bound feet can be.
Mother nearly passed out from fright and hid behind her aunt. “The county magistrate’s orders are not to be ignored,” the town head said. But Mother wrapped her arms tightly around her aunt’s waist and begged her not to make her go up there.
“Go on, Xuan’er,” her aunt coaxed. “Show them your feet. As long as they know what they’re looking for, you’ll do fine. Don’t tell me that golden lotuses I personally created won’t compete favorably with the hooves on those six donkeys.”
So her aunt escorted her up front, and then stepped aside. Xuan’er swayed as she walked, like a willow in the wind, and in the eyes of tradition-bound Northeast Gaomi men, that was the mark of true beauty. They stared at her, desperately wishing that by raising their eyelashes they could lift a leg of her trousers for a good view of one of those tiny feet. Like a moth drawn to a flame, the magistrate’s gaze flew to that spot beneath her trouser hem, and he just stood there for a moment, mouth agape, before regaining his composure. “Just look,” he announced. “Such a lovely girl turned into a freak incapable of manual labor.”
Unmindful of the consequences, Mother’s aunt refuted the magistrate’s comment. “A golden lotus girl is meant to be pampered. Manual labor is what servants are for!”
With her aunt’s gaze boring into him, the magistrate asked, “Are you the girl’s mother?”
“What if I am?”
“Are her bound feet your handiwork?”
“What if they are?”
“Take this shrewish woman into custody,” he ordered, “and keep her there as long as her daughter’s feet remain bound.”
“I’d like to see any of you try!” Big Paw Yu thundered as he leaped out from the crowd, fists clenched, to protect his wife.
“Who are you?” the magistrate asked.
“I’m your elder,” he said defiantly.
“Seize him!” the enraged magistrate demanded.
Some of his underlings stepped up warily and reached out to restrain Big Paw, who brushed them aside with a swipe of his arm.
Now the crowd got involved, and amid the flurry of opinions, some people picked up dirt clods and threw them in the direction of the six natural feet girls.
The people of Northeast Gaomi have always been known for their boldness, something the magistrate must have been aware of. “I have important business to take care of today, so I’ll let you off this time. But unbinding women’s feet is national policy, and anyone who defies that policy can expect to be severely punished.”
The magistrate threaded his way through the crowd and climbed into his car. “Let’s go,” he told his chauffeur, who went to the front of the car and turned the crank until the engine started with a loud cough. The natural feet girls and other hangers-on piled in as the chauffeur ran around to the driver’s seat, grabbed the steering wheel, and drove off, leaving a trail of smoke behind.
A youngster in the crowd clapped. “Our Big Paw Yu scared off the county magistrate!”
That night, Shangguan Lü, wife of the local blacksmith Shangguan Fulu, presented a bolt of white cloth to a matchmaker called Big Mouth Yuan with a request that she approach the Yu family with a marriage proposal on behalf of her only son, Shangguan Shouxi.
“Elder sister-in-law,” Big Mouth said to Mother’s aunt as she tapped her feet with a rush fan, “if the Manchu dynasty hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t dare cross your threshold, even if someone shoved a drill up my backside. But we now live in the Republic of China, and girls with bound feet are out of favor. The sons of well-to-do families have taken up new ways of thinking. They wear uniforms, they smoke cigarettes, and they chase after girls educated in foreign schools, girls with big feet, who can run and jump and chat and laugh and giggle when a boy puts his arm around her. I’m afraid your niece is a fallen phoenix, which is worse than a common chicken. The Shangguan family is willing to overlook that, and I think it’s time to burn the incense. Shangguan Shouxi is a good-looking, well-mannered boy, and the family owns both a donkey and a mule. Running their own blacksmith shop doesn’t make them rich, but they’re not badly off. Xuan’er could do worse than a family like that.”
“Have I raised a proper young lady just so she can marry the son of a blacksmith?”
“Haven’t you heard that the wife of the Xuantong emperor was sent up to the city of Harbin to polish shoes? Life is unpredictable, elder sister-in-law.”
“Tell the Shangguans to come see me in person.”
On the following morning, Mother peeked through a crack in the door to get her first glimpse of the robust woman who was to be her mother-in-law, Shangguan Lü. She also watched as her aunt and Shangguan Lü argued over the betrothal gifts until they were both red in the face. “Go home and talk it over,” Mother’s aunt said. “Either the mule or two acres of arable land. Raising the girl for seventeen years has to be worth something.”
“All right,” Shangguan Lü said. “You win. The mule is yours, and we’ll take your wooden-wheeled wagon.”
With a clap of the hands, the deal between the two women was struck. “Xuan’er,” Mother’s aunt called to her. “Come out and meet your mother-in-law.”
3
Three years into her marriage to Shangguan Shouxi, Xuan’er remained childless. Her mother-in-law railed at the family hen, “All you do is eat, and we still haven’t seen a single egg.” Her meaning was clear.
The weather that spring could not have been better, and business at the blacksmith shop reaped the benefits, selling new scythes and repairing broken ones for a steady stream of peasants. The furnace was in the middle of the yard, under a sheet of oil cloth to keep out the sun. The pleasant smell of burning coal hung over the yard, and dark red tongues of flame crackled in the sunlight. Shangguan Fulu handled the tongs, his son, Shouxi, worked the bellows. Shangguan Lü, wearing a tattered robe cinched at the waist by an oilcloth apron spotted with black marks from burning sparks, and an old straw hat on her head, handled the hammer. With sweat and soot streaking her face, the only way anyone could tell she was a woman was by the two protuberances on her chest. The clang of hammer on hot steel resounded from morning to night. As a rule, the family ate only two meals a day; Xuan’er was responsible for preparing the meals and tending the family livestock, pigs included, chores that kept her hopping all day long. And still her mother-in-law found fault, keeping an eye on her even as she hammered the red-hot steel, and muttering nonstop. When she ran out of complaints about her daughter-in-law, she’d turn her attention to her son, and from there to her husband. They were all used to being harangued by the head of the household and the best blacksmith in the family. Xuan’er both hated and feared her mother-in-law, but she admired her as well. Standing around watching Shangguan Lü work was a bit of a holiday at the end of the day, and the compound was frequently filled with people coming and going.