Lanlan couldn’t understand why there was so much glory in killing a man, vicious as that thug was. She wouldn’t do it again. No, even for ten thousand yuan she wouldn’t. So she told them plainly, “I was scared. I am still scared. I’ve burned all the clothes I wore that day. At night I always see a shadow in the outer room. Sometimes I wake up screaming like a man’s on top of me. Oh heaven, I can still smell him in the house.”
The reporter smiled amiably and said, “Don’t be so scared. You’ll get over it soon.” He was writing down her words.
She noticed that his hands had long fingers. The black fountain pen was moving rapidly and spitting out one character after another. She had never seen such male hands, which apparently had nothing to do with farm work. None of the women in the village had hands so delicate. She gazed at his handwriting, which was beautiful. He must be a good writer, who could make words flow like a stream and float like clouds.
When she added water to their teacups, she stole a glance at the reporter. He was handsome, with a pale face, a mouth having upward corners, and a straight nose. His large eyes had double-fold lids. In every way he was different from those country men she knew. She found herself breathing strangely and couldn’t help glancing at him time and again.
The interview ended, and the men stood up and were ready to leave. Lanlan asked them to stay for lunch, saying she would cook long noodles with oysters, but Director Zhang said the brigade’s kitchen had prepared a meal. She realized they would have a feast there, so she didn’t insist.
They went out of the house. The reporter thanked her and shook hands with her. His hand was smooth and warm. She watched them walking to the front gate. He was taller than the other men and his gait was full of ease.
“Lanlan, you’re in the newspaper,” Ailian shouted when they were hoeing beets four days later.
“Really? What does it say about me?”
Ailian read the article in Red Star, the county’s newspaper, to Lanlan and the villagers gathering around. The title said, “A Brave Woman and Good Wife.” The article described how Lanlan had fought an escaped criminal to protect her chastity; she was so brave and so determined that she wrestled with the man and stabbed him to death. It ended with a petition that such a good woman deserved a reward, just as a soldier would be awarded a merit citation or a promotion for his outstanding service.
All the commune members in the field congratulated Lanlan, but she was puzzled a little. She wasn’t that good. When she stabbed the thug she had never thought of her husband at all, not to mention preserving her chastity for him, a dead man. But she didn’t say anything, because she believed the handsome reporter must have helped her in secret. She mustn’t appear as if she didn’t know how to appreciate favors. Calm though she seemed, she couldn’t concentrate on the hoeing. Again and again her hoe cut down some seedlings. She cursed herself under her breath and kicked tufts of weeds to cover up the felled beets.
From that day on, all the brigade leaders became very considerate to her. They asked her whether she wanted help for sowing her family plot and whether her piglets needed gelding. Whatever she was unable to do, just let them know. In a week another article appeared, but this time in the biggest newspaper in the province, Liaoning Daily. It praised Lanlan as a model in fighting class enemies, as the title declared: “A Young Woman Subdued a Violent Criminal.” Currently, the Provincial Administration was waging a full-scale campaign against crime. The article called upon all citizens to follow Lanlan’s example and participate in cracking down on the criminals so as to create a peaceful environment for everyone to work, study, and live in.
Now Lanlan became famous. The County Administration issued a document about her case, instructing the Personnel Department to assign her a good job and the Police Bureau to provide her with a residence card, which would qualify her as a city dweller. In a few days she was informed that she was given a job as a saleswoman at a hardware store in Gold County. She would be paid sixty yuan a month, 30 percent higher than the regular starting salary. In addition, she would become a permanent resident in the county town.
No one expected such a fortune could drop from heaven. Aunt Wang was unhappy about it, because Lanlan hadn’t given her an answer yet and probably had stopped considering the proposal. Now the young widow had flown beyond the old woman’s reach, and Widower Bao’s chance of marrying her was dwindling. One morning Lanlan heard beyond the wall Aunt Wang cursing a dog, “You ungrateful beast.” Lanlan didn’t care. Her mother had arrived to help her after hearing of what had happened, and her breasts had regained abundant milk, and she didn’t need to have anything to do with that jealous crone anymore. At last Aunt Wang showed her true nature. A yellow weasel never wishes a chicken a Happy New Year without thinking of the chicken’s blood, Lanlan told herself.
Two weeks later The People’s Daily, the largest newspaper in China, also published a short article about Lanlan. In addition to praising her virtue and bravery, it mentioned her residence card and her new job, which she actually couldn’t start in two months until an old clerk retired from the hardware store. This article brought her hundreds of admiring letters from different parts of the country. Dozens of men sent her letters containing their photographs and proposed to her. Most of them were soldiers in the army or farmers in the countryside. They didn’t care what she looked like, because they knew she was good—a chaste, healthy woman; and they wanted nothing but a virtuous, hardworking wife. Some men even said they would treat the baby boy as their own.
Lanlan was stunned that all of a sudden so many men would marry her, ready to give her a happy family. For the first time in her life she felt China was indeed a great country and never lacked men and women. But her mother was coolheaded and told her that besides their interest in her virtue and health, most of the men also had an eye on her residence card and her lucrative job. They wanted their descendants to be city dwellers, since according to the law an infant automatically adopted its mother’s residential status. She told Lanlan, “Men are always after a good woman, just like flies after blood.” So she helped her choose a reliable man, who was from their home village and worked as a cook at a state-owned restaurant in Gold County. The wedding was scheduled to take place at the Mid-Fall Festival. By then, Lanlan would have settled in the county town.
Sometimes she couldn’t help thinking of the handsome reporter. She regretted that she hadn’t asked his name. The memory often brought up a slight contraction in her chest, but she tried not to let it disturb her mind. In secret, she regarded him as a benefactor, an upright gentleman, and probably a sage. Now the spring breeze did blow, and she got more than she had expected. You mustn’t be too greedy, she kept telling herself. Besides, that man must have had his own family and never have thought of her—a simple rustic woman. Whoever he was, she wished him lots of children and a happy life.
Resurrection
“Damn you,” Fulan cursed her husband, Lu Han. “Now the whole Ox Village knows you slept with my sister. How can I go out and meet their faces?”
Lu was sucking at a pipe in silence. The wrinkles on his forehead stretched to his temples, and his small eyes were lusterless. He was not yet thirty, but he had changed so much recently that he looked like a man in his fifties. Fulan took their four-month-old boy off her large breast, turned him around, and thrust her other nipple into his mouth. She said, “Shame on you. Can’t take care of your own cock. Even a studhorse knows not to mount his sister. Shameless—why don’t you go out, find a tree, and hang yourself?”