My eldest sister, Laidi, held her tongue the whole time, and when Mother glanced at her, she lowered her head. “Tomorrow,” Mother said to her anxiously, “you and Zhaodi can take the little mule into town and sell it.” My fifth sister, Pandi, said with a pout, “But it’s still nursing. Why don’t we sell some grain instead? We have plenty.” Mother glanced over at the open door of the eastern side room. A pair of cotton stockings belonging to Sha Yueliang, the leader of the band of soldiers, was drying on a clothesline.
The little mule bounded into the yard. It had been born on the same day as I, and it too was a male. But I could only stand up in the carrying cloth on my mother’s back, while it was already as tall as its mother. “Here’s what we’ll do,” Mother said before turning to walk back inside. “We’ll sell it tomorrow.” But from behind us came a crisp shout: “Adoptive mother!”
Sha Yueliang, who had been missing for three days, walked into the yard, leading his black donkey. A pair of bulging purple bundles lay across the donkey’s back, something colorful poking through the seams. “Adoptive mother!” he called out again, a tone of intimacy in his voice. Mother turned to see an awkward smile on the dark, gaunt face of the crooked-shouldered man. “Commander Sha,” Mother said insistently, “how many times have I told you I’m not your adoptive mother?” With the smile creasing his face unyieldingly, Sha replied, “No, you’re not, you’re more than that. I may not measure up in your eyes, but my filial obligations to you know no bounds.” He turned and ordered two of his soldiers to take the donkey over to the churchyard to feed it after unloading the bundles from its back. Mother stared venomously at the black donkey, and so did I. It flared its nostrils to take in the smell of our female donkey emanating from the western side room.
Sha opened one of the bundles and took out a foxskin overcoat. It shimmered when he shook it out in the falling snow, which melted from the garment’s heat as far away as three feet. “Adoptive mother,” he said as he walked up to Mother with the coat. “Please accept this gift from your adoptive son.” Mother shrank back hastily, but there was no way she could successfully avoid being wrapped in the foxskin coat. Darkness closed around me. The stink of the animal hide and the pungent odor of mothballs nearly suffocated me.
By the time I could see again, the yard had turned into an animal world. A purple marten coat was draped over the shoulders of my eldest sister, Laidi, and a bright-eyed fox was wrapped around her neck. My second sister, Zhaodi, was wrapped in a weasel coat. A black bear coat was draped over the shoulders of my third sister, Lingdi; a dark yellow roe deer coat was draped over the shoulders of my fourth sister, Xiangdi; a dogskin coat was draped over the shoulders of my fifth sister, Pandi; a lambskin coat was draped over the shoulders of my sixth sister, Niandi; and a rabbitskin coat was draped over the shoulders of my seventh sister, Qiudi. Mother’s foxskin coat lay on the ground. “Take those off, all of you!” she shouted. “Take them off!” My sisters acted as if they hadn’t heard her; with their heads swaying in the warmth of their collars, they reached out to touch the fur of one another’s coats. The looks on their faces showed that they were delighted to be immersed in such warmth, and that they felt warmed by their delight. As she stood there shivering, Mother said weakly, “Have you all turned deaf?”
Sha Yueliang removed the last two overcoats from one of the bundles and gently rubbed the black fur covering the brown satiny-sleek hide. “Adoptive mother,” he said emotionally, “these are lynx hides. There was only a single pair of them anywhere in a hundred-li radius of Northeast Gaomi. It took old man Geng and his son three years to catch them. This is the male, and this is the female. Have you ever seen a lynx?” His eyes swept the fur-clad girls. Since they didn’t answer, he told them about lynxes, like a schoolteacher lecturing his class. “The lynx is a cat, only larger, and resembles a leopard, only smaller. It can climb trees and it can swim. It can leap several feet in the air and is capable of snatching birds off the limbs of trees. It’s a very clever animal. This particular pair of lynxes lived amid Northeast Gaomi’s unmarked burial mounds, which made it harder to catch them than climbing to the sky. But, eventually, they were caught. Adoptive mother, these two jackets are my gifts to young brother Jintong and his twin sister.” With that, he laid out the two tiny jackets made from the lynxes, animals that when alive could climb trees, could swim, and could leap several feet in the air. He then bent over, picked up the flame-red foxskin coat, shook it out, and laid it too in the crook of Mother’s arm. “Adoptive mother,” he said with a catch in his voice, “please don’t make me lose face.”
After night fell, Mother bolted the door and called Laidi into our room. She laid me down at the head of the kang, alongside my twin sister. I reached out and scratched her face. She cried out and curled up in the corner, as far away from me as possible. Mother was too busy bolting the bedroom door to concern herself with us. My eldest sister was standing at the head of the kang, bundled in her purple marten coat, the fox stole around her neck, looking bashful and proud at the same time. Mother climbed onto the kang. Taking a silver hairpin from the bun at the back of her head, she picked the knot out of the lamp wick to make it shine brightly. Then she sat up straight and said in a taunting voice, “Sit down, young mistress. Don’t be afraid you’ll soil your new coat.” Laidi blushed and sat on a stool beside the kang, pouting to show she felt hurt. Her fur stole raised its sly chin; oily green lights shot out from her eyes.
The yard was Sha Yueliang’s world. Ever since he’d set up a bivouac in our eastern side room, our main gate was never closed all the way. On this particular night, there was a lot more going on in the eastern side room than usual. The bright light of a gas lantern shone through the paper covering of the window, lighting up the whole yard and adding a radiance to the snowflakes swirling in the air. People were running around; the gate kept creaking open and shut; and the crisp sound of donkey hooves clattered up and down the lane. Inside the room, husky male laughter burst into the night between shouts of their finger gambling: Three peach gardens! Five stalwart leaders! Seven plum blossoms and eight horses! The aroma of meat and fish drew my six sisters up to the window in the eastern room, where they leaned against the windowsill and drooled hungrily. Mother watched my eldest sister like a hawk, eyes blazing; Laidi returned the look with unyielding defiance. Blue sparks flew from the clash of gazes. “What are you thinking?” Mother demanded.
“What do you mean?” Laidi asked as she stroked the lush tail of the fox.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mother said.
“Mother,” Laidi said, “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
Changing her tone to one of sadness, Mother said, “Laidi, you’re the oldest of nine children, and if you get into trouble, who am I going to rely on?”
My sister jumped to her feet and, in an indignant tone I’d never heard from her before, said, “Just what do you expect of me, Mother? All you care about is Jintong. As far as you’re concerned, we girls aren’t worth as much as a pile of dog turds!”