As the clamor persisted, the crowd in the compound pushed and shoved, until the militiamen, in no mood to strain themselves in quelling the uproar, moved away to smoke a leisurely cigarette. From where I stood, in my lean-to, I watched as the setting sun splashed its golden rays onto the apricot tree branches. A pair of armed militiamen kept guard beneath the tree, the object at their feet blocked from view by the crowd. But I knew it was the treasure-filled urn, with a surge of humanity pressing closer and closer to it. I swore to heaven that the riches in that urn had nothing to do with Ximen Nao – with me. But then, my heart skipped a beat when I saw Ximen Nao’s wife, Ximen Bai, walk out of the main building in the custody of a rifle-toting militiaman and the head of public security.
Her hair looked like a ball of tangled yarn, and she was covered with dirt, as if she’d emerged from a hole in the ground. Her arms hung limp at her sides as she swayed with each step to keep her balance. When the raucous people in the compound saw her, they fell silent and instinctively parted to open up the path leading to the main building. The gate of my estate had once faced a screen wall on which the words “Good Fortune” had been inlaid, but that had been demolished by a pair of money-grubbing militiamen on a second inspection during Land Reform. They’d shared a dream that hundreds of gold ingots were hidden inside the wall, but all they retrieved was a pair of rusty scissors.
Ximen Bai tripped on a cobblestone and fell to the ground, where she lay, facedown. Yang Qi kicked her.
“Get the hell up!” he cursed. “Quit faking!”
I felt a blue flame blaze up inside my head and pawed the ground out of anxiety and rage. I could sense the heavy hearts among the villagers in the compound as the atmosphere turned forlorn. Ximen Nao’s wife was sobbing. She arched her back and tried to get up by supporting herself with her hands. She looked like a wounded frog.
As Yang Qi swung his foot back for another kick, Hong Taiyue called him to a halt from the steps:
“What are you doing, Yang Qi? After all these years since Liberation, you are smearing mud on the face of the Communist Party by the way you curse and hit people!”
The mortified Yang Qi stood there, rubbing his hands and mumbling to himself.
Hong Taiyue came down the steps and walked up to where Ximen Bai lay on the ground. He bent down and helped her up, but her legs buckled as she tried to go down on her knees.
“Village Head,” she sobbed, “spare me, I honestly know nothing. Please, Village Head, spare the life of this lowly dog…
“No more of that talk, Ximen Bai,” he said, holding her up so she could not get down on her knees. He looked so obliging, but then he abruptly turned severe. Facing the crowd, he said sternly: “Get out of here! What’s the big idea? What’s there to see? Go on, get out of here!”
With bowed heads, the people began leaving.
Spotting a heavyset woman with long, straight hair, Hong signaled to her.
“Yang Guixiang,” he said, “come over here and help.”
Yang, a onetime director of the Women’s Relief Society, was now in charge of women’s affairs. She was a cousin of Yang Qi. Happy to assist, she helped Ximen Bai back into the house.
“Think hard, Ximen Bai, did your husband, Ximen Nao, bury this urn? And while you’re thinking about that, what else did he bury? Tell us, there’s nothing to be afraid of, since you’ve done nothing wrong. Ximen Nao is the guilty one.”
Sounds of torture emerged from the main house and assailed my ears, which were standing straight up. At this moment, Ximen Nao and the donkey were one and the same. I was Ximen Nao, Ximen Nao was now a donkey, I was Ximen Donkey.
“I honestly don’t know, Village Chief. That place isn’t my family’s land, and if my husband wanted to bury something, he wouldn’t bury it there…”
“Smack!” Someone banged the table with the flat of his hand.
“Hang her up if she won’t tell!”
“Squeeze her fingers!”
My wife wailed pitifully, begging for her life.
“Think hard, Ximen Bai. Ximen Nao is dead, so buried riches cannot do him any good. But if we dig them up, they can make our co-op stronger. There’s nothing to be afraid of, we’ve all been liberated. Our policy is not to beat people, and we’re certainly not about to resort to torture. All you have to do is tell us, and I promise I’ll cite you for meritorious service.” I knew that was Hong Taiyue talking.
My blazing heart filled with sadness, and I felt as if someone was branding me with a red-hot iron or stabbing me with a sharp knife. The sun had set by then and the moon was climbing high in the sky, its chillingly gray beams trickling down onto the ground, the trees, the militiamen’s rifles, and the glittery glazed urn. That urn does not belong to the Ximen family, and besides, we’d never bury our riches in a place like that. It’s where people have died and bombs have exploded, where ghosts congregate, and it would be folly for me to bury anything there. Ours was not the only wealthy family in the village, why were we the only ones you accused with no proof?
I could stand it no longer, could not bear to hear Ximen Bai cry; it brought pain and guilt feelings. If only I’d treated her better. After bringing Yingchun and Qiuxiang into the house, I never again visited my wife’s bed, leaving a thirty-year-old woman to sleep alone night after night. So she recited sutras and struck the wooden fish, that hollow block of wood with which my mother had beat out a rhythm when she uttered her Buddhist devotionals: clack, clack, clack, clack, clack, clack… I reared back, but I was tied to a hitching post, so I sent a tattered basket flying with a kick by my rear hooves. I lunged to one side, I sprang to the other, white-hot brays tore from my throat. That seemed to loosen the reins. I’d freed myself. I charged through the unlocked gate on my way to the middle of the compound, where I heard Jinlong, who was relieving himself against the wall, yell, “Daddy, Mommy, our donkey got loose!”
I pranced around in the compound for a moment to test my legs and hooves; they clattered on the stones and raised sparks. Moonbeams glistened on my nicely rounded rump. Lan Lian ran out of his quarters, and militiamen emerged from the main house. Rays of candlelight pierced the open doorway and lit up part of the compound. I trotted over to the apricot tree, turned and kicked the glazed urn with my rear hooves, destroying it with a loud splintering noise, some of the pieces sailing above the tree and then landing on roof tiles with a clatter. Huang Tong ran out of the main house, Qiuxiang came out of the eastern rooms. The militiamen cocked their rifles, but I wasn’t afraid; I knew they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a person, but would never shoot a donkey. As barnyard animals, donkeys lack human understanding of things, and anyone who kills one will himself become a barnyard animal. Huang Tong stepped down on my loose reins, but all I had to do was rear up to put him on his backside. Then by swinging my head, the reins whipped through the air and struck Qiuxiang in the face. Hearing her wail was music to my ears. You black-hearted slut, I’d like to mount you right here! I leaped over her; people ran up to restrain me. But nothing was going to stop me from running into the main house. It’s me, Ximen Nao, I’ve come home! I want to sit in my own chair, smoke my own pipe, pick up my little liquor decanter and down four ounces of good strong liquor, and then enjoy a nice braised chicken. All of a sudden, the room seemed awfully small, and my footsteps resounded on the tile floor. Pots and pans were smashed, furniture was on its back or its side. I saw the big, flat, golden-yellow face of Yang Guixiang, who, thanks to me, had been forced up against a wall. Her shrieks hit me like darts. Then my eyes fell on Ximen Bai, my virtuous wife, who was sprawled weakly on the tile floor, and that threw my mind into turmoil. I forgot that I now had a donkey’s body and a donkey’s face. I wanted to reach down and pick her up, only to discover that she was lying unconscious between my legs. I felt like kissing her, but then I saw that her head was bleeding. Love is forbidden between humans and donkeys. Good-bye, virtuous wife. Just as I had lifted my head and turned to exit the room, a dark figure stepped out from behind the door and wrapped his arms around my neck. With hands like steel talons, he grabbed my ears and my reins. My head sagged from the pain. But as soon as I could see what was going on, the village chief, Hong Taiyue, was lying across my head like a vampire bat. My bitter rival. As a human being, I, Ximen Nao, never fought you, but I’ll not suffer at your hands as a donkey I was seeing red. Bearing up under the pain, I threw back my head and broke for the door. The doorframe scraped the parasite from my body – Hong Taiyue remained inside the room.