Lu wanted to jump up and yell, “Your sister’s no good either, a cracked melon already! If a bitch doesn’t raise her tail, no dog can do anything to her.” But he remained on the bench, motionless, biting his thick lips.
“All right,” she started again, “play deaf if you like. Tomorrow I’ll go back to my parents with Leopard. If your face is thick enough, come and fetch us. My dad and brothers will skin you alive.”
Lu stood up and walked out into the dusk. He knew that talking was useless; once she got an idea into her head, you could never bring her around. Besides, what could he say? He was in the wrong to have slept with Fuli when his wife was pregnant. He felt so ashamed that he had cursed himself many times, but what was done was done, and all he could do now was bear the consequences.
The peanut plants rustled in a lazy breeze. Katydids were chirping tremulously as the night air brought its coolness. Lu sat down by a millstone under a large mulberry. His broad shoulders drooped, and his short legs wearied. He gave out a long sigh and muttered to himself, “You asked for it.”
He began thinking about how to atone for his error and start his life anew. The day before, the Party secretary, Zhao Mingyi, had told him to prepare to make a clean breast of his offense. He was supposed to go to the production brigade’s office the next evening and face interrogation by the brigade leaders. He was not afraid of their scolding, because he was certain he could keep quiet and endure their scathing words. What worried him was that if they were not satisfied with his confession and self-criticism, they could have him denounced publicly or paraded through the streets as a corrupt element. If that happened, his family and he himself would be done for. He had to be careful not to offend those leaders. For the time being, he thought, let Fulan do whatever she wants. He should deal with the external crisis first. Only after settling that could he put his family in order again.
Next morning, after breakfast, Fulan was ready to leave with their baby for Date Village, where her parents lived. She was to take a horse cart, which was going there to carry back peanut cakes for the brigade’s chicken farm. Before she got on the cart, Lu gave the driver, Chu, a packet of Rose cigarettes and asked him to take care of his wife and son on the way. Chu smelled the cigarettes and promised with a grin, “They’ll get there without losing a hair.”
After they left, Lu went directly to the soybean field on the southern hill and joined the commune members in hoeing.
He didn’t cook lunch for himself at noon; instead he ate two cold corn cakes and radishes with soy paste. After feeding the poultry and the sow and the piglets, he went back to the field. For a whole day he smoked continually, musing over the impending trial. How lucky it was that his parents were dead. If they had been alive, the shame he brought on them could have killed them. How lucky he was that the leaders hadn’t caught Fuli, or they would have interrogated her to see whether everything he told them was true. She had left for her aunt’s in Heilongjiang Province a month before the scandal became public. In the northern frontier every woman was considered marriageable, because men outnumbered women. Two brothers would even share one wife. Lu heard that Fuli became engaged to a middle-aged veteran soon after she arrived there.
At seven in the evening Lu reached the brigade’s office. The door was open, and inside the room the radio was playing a song, “I See the Pole Star When I Look Up.” Lu stepped in, but dared not go farther; he stood by the door waiting for instructions. Secretary Zhao, the brigade director Wang Peng, and Scribe Hsiao sat at a table smoking cigarettes and drinking tea. Zhao motioned to Lu to sit in front of them. The scribe turned off the radio. The room grew quiet, but Lu could hear a droning sound made by a few flies. He was reminded of the lines from a poem by Chairman Mao: “On our small planet / A few flies bang on walls / Buzzing, moaning, sobbing.”
The trial started. Zhao pointed at the scroll hung on a wall beneath the Chairman’s portrait, and ordered: “Read these words for us.”
“Leniency Toward Those Who Confess; Severity to Those Who Refuse!” Lu read in a shaky voice.
“Good,” Zhao resumed, “you understand the Party’s policy, so I won’t waste my breath explaining it to you. Your attitude towards your crime will determine how we handle your case.”
Lu was struck by the word “crime.” Is adultery a crime? he asked himself. It must be. Then they can treat me as a criminal, a class enemy! Sweat broke out on his forehead. The thought occurred to him that he ought to appear more remorseful.
“Tell us, when did you start the abnormal relationship with Lin Fuli?” Wang asked.
“Last fall,” Lu said.
Scribe Hsiao dipped a pen into an inkstand and started taking notes.
“How many times did you two have sexual intercourse?”
“I can’t tell exactly.”
“Think hard.” Wang’s eyes drilled into Lu’s face and made him shudder a little. “Tell me, how many times?”
“Probably twenty.”
“How many times did you go to bed together?”
“Mmm—once.”
“Why only once?”
“Because my wife was home all the time. She went to town to sell chickens that day, so we two slept together on the warm bed.”
“What day was that?”
“I can’t remember exactly. It was last winter.”
“Your wife was carrying your baby at that time?”
“Yes.”
“Shame on you!” Wang thumped the table. “Your woman was big with your child and went to town selling chickens for you, while you were screwing her sister at home. What kind of a man do you think you are?”
“I’m sorry.” Lu hung his head low.
“Sorry, too late,” Wang shouted. Then he moved his head closer to Lu and asked in a soft voice, “Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know. Couldn’t contain myself.”
“No, it’s not a problem of self-control,” Secretary Zhao broke in. “You have too many bourgeois thoughts in your brain. Though you’re a descendant of a poor peasant, those thoughts have corrupted your mind and driven you to commit the crime.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Lu admitted.
“Tell us why you had sex with both your wife and her sister,” Wang resumed. “What’s the difference between them? Aren’t they dishes from the same pot?” Wang’s baggy eyes searched Lu’s face.
“Don’t know. I can’t tell the difference.” Lu was bewildered by the question, but he told the truth. He had never thought of differences between the two women.
“All right, let’s come back to the first time. Where did it happen?” Wang asked.
“In the sorghum field by the reservoir.”
“Talk more about it. Describe how you two met there, who started it, what you said to each other, how you did everything there. From the beginning to the end.”
“I’ve forgotten the details.”
“Lu Han …” Secretary Zhao spoke in a serious voice. “You’ve been trying to evade the questions. I hope you understand that this attitude will put you in an awkward situation, which will require us to take necessary measures.”
“Yes, I do, I do.”
“Tell us everything then,” Wang went on. “Who can believe you forgot the first time.”
Lu began weeping. “I don’t remember clearly.”
“All right, tell me who opened pants first?”