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Meanwhile Hong was running toward the well on Old Folk Road. Tears were streaming out of her eyes, and she was too ashamed to face her mother and the in-laws now. It was she who had brought such a disaster on Hai and herself. The Pangs had spent four thousand yuan on the banquet alone and couldn’t receive a fen in return. All the food was eaten up by the pupils. Oh, Hai and she would never be able to clear the debt. Such a miserable life was worse than death. Without thinking twice, she jumped into the dark well. To her surprise, it was not so deep as she had thought. The water barely reached her chest, but it was ice cold. She touched her thighs, her hips, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, and found every part of her body all right. She began trembling as she realized she had been merely a step away from the jaws of death. If she had plunged herself headlong, she would have killed herself easily by hitting the rocks. She groped around and felt the slippery wall covered with moss. It was impossible to climb out.

A moment later a metal bucket came down, hitting the rocky wall with a clank. Hong realized it was time to cook dinner and the well would be busy soon. She stuck her body to the wall and avoided standing in the way of the bucket, which floated on the surface of the water for a second, plunged in, came out full, and rose to the mouth of the well. Then another bucket descended and carried up a full load too. Hong raised her head to see who was up there, but she saw only the drawer’s blue sleeves.

It occurred to her that this well was used by the people on three streets for drinking water. On Bath Street there was a well whose water had been sweeter than this one. Two years ago, the daughter of the Tangs on Blacksmith Road had drowned herself and her baby girl in that well because her husband and parents-in-law had scolded her for being unable to bear them a boy. People who had used the well for drinking water never stopped cursing the young woman. There were a lot of ways to kill herself, why did she choose this well? Because of the drowned bodies, no one would go there to fetch drinking water. Only a few families used the well for washing now. A pain seized Hong’s heart. If she had died in here, she would have been a restless ghost, because everybody up there would have cursed her. Then she remembered her mother. How unfilial she was. When he was dying, her father had asked her to take good care of her mother, but she had forgotten everything and acted so foolishly. She burst into tears and blew her nose over the water. Another bucket was coming down. Hong held her breath.

Up on the ground a large-scale search for the bride was under way. Lilian had gone to Feng Ping’s office and cursed him in front of his subordinates. At first Feng wanted to have her dragged out, but on hearing that she had told his mother on him—the old woman was waiting at home to scold him—and that Hong had disappeared, Feng restrained his temper and began to worry, sweat breaking out on his narrow forehead. Obviously the whole thing had gotten out of hand. If Hong killed herself he would feel guilty all his life. Such a nice girl, she shouldn’t end up this way, in the hands of that rascal Pang Hai. With his squint eyes glittering, Feng told Lilian, “Stop blaming, all right? We must hurry and find Hong. It’s terrible. I hope nothing will happen to her.” Then he picked up the telephone and ordered the militia to search every dangerous cliff, ditch, pit, and hole in Dismount Fort and its vicinity, and report to him the minute they found her.

The militia in the Pangs’ yard changed their attitude at once and joined the family looking for the bride. They went to the railroad station and the six bridges in town. They combed several bushes and a few cornfields. Every reservoir in nearby villages was checked too. Nobody had seen a shadow of Hong, and group by group the men returned empty-handed. Hai never stopped cursing Feng Ping, declaring he would level the graves of Feng’s ancestors and annihilate the entire Feng clan if anything happened to his young wife.

It was almost dark. The half-moon cast a bluish curtain of mist on the tiled roofs, the treetops, the streets. Light bulbs flashed on one after another, and children were playing hide-and-seek on the streets. The militia had gone home for dinner, while the Pangs, Mrs. Chen, and Lilian were still searching. The well keeping Hong had been looked and shouted into several times, but Hong, clinging to the jagged wall, wouldn’t respond to the calling. She was uncertain who was up there and didn’t want to be surrounded by a crowd when she got out, though she was trembling all over and her stomach was twinging with hunger and fear. Finally came a familiar voice. “Hong, are you down there?”

“Yes, I’m here, Lilian!”

“My goodness, you are in there. Did you hurt yourself? Oh!” Lilian broke into tears.

“No, I’m all right.”

“Wait, we’ll pull you out.”

“Come back, Lilian. Come back.” It was too late to stop Lilian, who had left for help.

A few minutes later Hai and Mrs. Chen arrived with a rope and a large bucket. Hai shouted into the well while sobbing and lowering the bucket, “Hong, are you all right? Why do this to yourself? It’s not your fault …” Words just gushed out of his throat. Never had he been so talkative.

Hong climbed into the bucket. “I’m in it now. Pull,” she cried.

The second her feet touched the cement terrace, Hai embraced her and burst out wailing. “Even heaven collapsed, you shouldn’t do this. How could I live without you!” Despite her dripping clothes, he held her tight as though afraid of losing her again. She felt his arms and chest so warm and so powerful that she let herself go, leaning against him as if nesting in a comfortable bed. Lilian was wiping her cheeks with a white handkerchief.

“My little devil, how could you abandon your old mother!” Mrs. Chen said while wrapping her daughter with a blanket. She was also unable to control her tears.

Hong was too overwhelmed to say a word. The street was shimmering in the moonlight. A smell of baked sweet potato was lingering in the air and aroused a pang in Hong’s stomach. Together they walked back to the bridechamber, which would be safe and quiet for the first night.

Again, the Spring Breeze Blew

At her husband’s funeral in the afternoon Lanlan cried so hard that she fainted and was unconscious for almost twenty minutes. The leaders of the production brigade assigned an oxcart to carry her back from the graveyard. Once home, she placed her one-year-old boy Kai on the brick bed and lay down beside him. Soon her sobbing subsided. She thought of returning to her mother’s in Quarry Village the next morning.

She wasn’t sure why she was so heartbroken. Certainly she missed her husband, but she couldn’t tell whether she loved him so much as to cry her heart out for him. Since their marriage, they had fought almost every week. Now it was over. Two days ago, her husband had fallen from their house while repairing the roof. He broke his neck on the edge of a large water vat and died instantly without leaving her a word.

Outside, a hen began clucking. That’s the black one, Lanlan told herself. Forty-six eggs now. Remember to boil ten for tomorrow’s trip.

Eggs reminded her that her husband had died without food in his stomach. This again brought tears to her eyes. Though he had often beaten her, they had managed to live together; as the old saying attests: “One night’s husband and wife guarantees a hundred days’ affection.” They had shared the same bed for twenty-two months and had been somewhat attached to each other. Besides, he had left her a son who was healthy and almost an exact copy of him.