Some of the other villagers hesitated. The fifty-year-old One-Arm, who with only a single arm could cut radish and cucumber into paper-thin slices faster with his one hand than a wholer chef could with two, had earned a considerable amount of money with this skill, but no one knew where he’d hidden it. Most of the villagers had already gone to the northern side of the hall, and only a handful remained on the southern side. One-Arm looked at the four faces in the window, then back at the villagers standing across from him, and then went to the side room to fetch a winter hat and removed the money he had hidden inside it. He placed several wads of cash on the shirt, then proceeded to the northern side of the hall. At this point, the driver in the window said coldly, “Place the hat itself on the shirt as well.”
One-Arm gripped his hat tightly and didn’t move.
The driver cursed, “Do you fucking not want to live? Remember that you only have one arm!” With this, One-Arm deposited his hat on the shirt. The hat’s earflaps were so stiff it looked as though they had wooden boards inside them. Needless to say, they were stuffed full of cash.
By this point, all of the villagers had moved to the northern side of the room. Those who had money had taken it out, while those who didn’t had claimed they really didn’t have any, since it had all been stolen, and then they too moved to the northern side of the room. There was a small mountain of cash on Grandma Mao Zhi’s light blue shirt, like a pile of vegetables or broken roof tiles. The sun was shining directly on the money, illuminating the colorful designs on the bills. Half of the bills in the pile were brand-new — so new that the scent of their ink filled the room like the smell of fresh paint. Those who had placed money on the pile had each deposited thousands or even tens of thousands of yuan, so that once all the cash was gathered together, the pile was amazingly large, so large that the villagers felt they were seeing a tower of gold or a mountain of cash. They didn’t look at the people in the window, but rather kept their eyes fixed on this pile of money, as if they were gazing at the face of their own children and wanted to go hug them close. Everyone standing, together with the two paralyzed women lying on the ground, crowded together on the northern side of the hall.
At this point, the driver said coldly, “Grandma Mao Zhi, come over here, and nobody else move. Now, bundle the money together, every single bill, and pass it to me with your crutch.”
Everyone stood there in a dead silence, staring intently at Grandma Mao Zhi, as though hoping she wouldn’t walk over. She hesitated for a moment, then proceeded to do as she had been instructed. She tied together a corner of the shirt and its collar, then did the same with the two sleeves. After the bundle was all tied up, she patted it with her hand, as if to make sure it was secure. Then, as she was lifting it with her crutch, she looked calmly at the driver and said, “Son, I’m already seventy-one years old, and it was I who led the people of Liven out to perform. If I give you the money, you must open the door and let me lead them home again.”
She said this very softly, as though she were an invalid asking the doctor to give her a prescription, and when the doctor — which is to say, the driver — replied he became very gentle, his face flushed. He looked down at her, then at the bundle of money, and said softly, “Once I receive the money, I’ll certainly open the door.” As he said this, he took a bundle of keys out of his pocket and showed them to Grandma Mao Zhi. He shook them back and forth, making the keys clink and clank, and said, “Hand me the money; I’m good for my word.”
With great effort, Grandma Mao lifted the bundle of money to the window.
The driver unhurriedly accepted it.
The entire transaction was completed in less time than it takes to swallow a bite of steamed bun or a gulp of water. It took no longer than the length of a needle, and then the money was in the driver’s hands. He unhurriedly took a loose corner of the bundle and retied it, then handed it down to the person standing on the ladder below him, saying, “Hold this.” Then he looked through the window at Grandma Mao Zhi, and asked softly,
“Is all the money here?”
“It’s all there.”
“Are you sure no one has any more on their person?”
“Weren’t you watching as they all took out their money?”
The driver didn’t say anything else. He stuck out his tongue, then used his lips to push it back in. He repeated this gesture several times until his lips were wet and the color of blood, then he pursed his lips and thought for a while, and finally asked gently,
“Are Huaihua and her three nin sisters your granddaughters?”
Grandma Mao Zhi looked over at Huaihua, Tonghua, Yuhua, and Mothlet. She didn’t know why the driver was asking her this, but nodded.
“How old are they?”
“They are seventeen.”
“How about this?” he said. “I know there are several wholers among you, and they are now energized after having just eaten some buns and drunk some water. In order to guarantee that they don’t make trouble when we open the door, you should let your granddaughters crawl out through the window first.” He said, “Once we have your granddaughters in hand, we will open the door and each go our separate ways.”
With this, the situation took an abrupt change of course. The driver’s flushed expression immediately changed hue, like the sun disappearing behind the clouds. After briefly considering what he had said, the villagers decided it sounded reasonable. The villagers behind Grandma Mao Zhi started moving forward, into the center of the hall. The sun had already passed over the memorial hall, and the sun rays that had been shining in through the front window had at some point shifted to the back window. The main hall was covered in a gentle red light, and the midday heat had started to dissipate.
A cool breeze began to blow through the hall, and with this breeze everyone gradually came to their senses. Some of the older villagers walked up and stood next to Grandma Mao Zhi, and said to the driver in the window, “Son, look at us down here. We are blind, crippled, deaf, mute, and paralyzed. Some of us are missing an arm or a leg. While it is true that there are a few wholers among us, they are all over sixty. How could we possibly make any trouble? If you let us come out and return to Liven, we will bow down to you in eternal gratitude.”
“Don’t waste my time with this.” The driver looked up at the sky and said, “Will you let the four girls out or not?”
No one responded, and instead everyone looked at Huaihua and her three nin sisters, and then at Grandma Mao Zhi. Grandma Mao Zhi was as pale as a sheet, and the corners of her mouth were trembling. The wrinkles on her face were twitching, like a spiderweb that had been blown apart by the wind. She wasn’t sure whether or not she should let her granddaughters go out first, and wasn’t even sure whether or not they themselves would be willing. The main hall again became completely silent. The sound of the setting sun shining in through the window was as loud as the cicadas crying under the sunset, reverberating in everyone’s ears. In this deathly silence, Huaihua suddenly announced in a loud voice,
“I’ll go. I’d prefer to go out and die rather than live in this stifling place.”
Having said this, she pushed the table to the window, then placed the three-legged chair on top, leaning the side without legs against the door frame. She climbed up onto the table, and then onto the chair. From there, she extended her arm and the wholer outside grabbed her hand and pulled her through the window.
Yuhua also climbed up and was pulled out.
Mothlet also climbed up and was pulled out.