As Mama Su watched Popsicle Wang pounding Baldy Li with his stick, she finally couldn't take it any longer. She went up and grabbed Wang's hand, admonishing him, "If you act like this, you will eventually get your retribution."
Popsicle Wang stopped but cried pathetically, "My five hundred yuan!"
Mama Su said, "Regardless of how much money it was, you won't get it back by beating him."
When Wang walked off with his popsicle case on his back, Mama Su looked down at Baldy Li, who was kneeling on the ground cradling his head in his hands. She couldn't help but nag him a little, "You know that they will beat you, so why do you keep walking around through the streets every day? Couldn't you just hide out at home?"
Baldy Li first looked up to ascertain that Popsicle Wang had left, then slowly lowered his hands from his head. He stood up and replied, "I get bored to death if I hide out at home." With this, he shook his long hair and walked away as though nothing had happened.
Mama Su shook her head and, sighing, said, "It's a good thing I went to the temple to burn incense and as a result didn't lose any money. Otherwise, I too would want to beat you."
Mama Su let out another sigh and, as Baldy Li walked away, exclaimed, "Burning incense is certainly effective!"
Poet Zhao watched Baldy Li repeatedly get beat up and noticed that he never fought back. At first Zhao was not sure what to make of this, but as he watched the five creditors beat Baldy Li to a pulp from spring straight through to summer, and how even the weakling Popsicle Wang could beat him to his heart's content for an hour, he felt a surge of courage. Remembering how Baldy Li had boasted that he would beat him until his true laborer's colors showed and completely discredit him in front of the entire town, Zhao thought to himself, If I don't avenge that humiliation, how can I even consider myself a man? He decided the time was right to avenge his loss of face.
That day, when Popsicle Wang finished beating Baldy Li and was walking away with his popsicle chest on his back, Poet Zhao happened to walk up. He aimed a few tentative kicks at Baldy Li, who was still lying on the ground holding his head. Noticing several onlookers walking back and forth, Zhao said loudly, "I thought this day would never come! Baldy Li has become Michael Jackson Li and has been beaten so badly that he doesn't even dare fight back."
Baldy Li lifted his head and shot Poet Zhao a look, as if he couldn't trouble himself to respond. Zhao took this to mean that Baldy Li was scared of him and therefore kicked him again and pronounced arrogantly, "Didn't you say that you wanted to beat me up? Why haven't I seen you do anything yet?"
Baldy Li slowly stood up, and Poet Zhao, now daring to go even further, gave him a shove. Zhao looked out at the passersby and crowed to Baldy Li, "Just try to move!"
Poet Zhao had just turned back from glancing at the passersby when he found himself face-to-face with Baldy Li's fists. Baldy Li used his swollen left hand to lift Poet Zhao by the collar and his swollen right hand to pound Zhao's face. Before Poet Zhao even knew what was happening, Baldy Li had pounded his face to a pulp. Poet Zhao groaned, realizing that Baldy Li was still as ferocious as ever. He immediately knelt to the ground, but Baldy Li continued to rain punches down on him, intoning, "They beat me, but I don't fight back because I was the one who lost their money. However, I didn't lose your money, and therefore I'd be happy to beat you to death."
Although Poet Zhao was being beaten senseless, he heard Baldy Li's speech clearly and finally understood why he had not fought back before. Realizing that he was in serious trouble, he immediately let out his loud laborer grunts and moans, but Baldy Li continued beating him. Therefore, Poet Zhao had no choice but to say, between grunts and moans,
"They're out, they're out."
"What's out?"
Poet Zhao saw that Baldy Li had paused and therefore quickly grunted twice more, then grasped Baldy Li's hand and pleaded, "You hear my laborer grunts and moans? You've beaten them out of me."
Baldy Li laughed and said, "I hear them, but that's still not enough."
He lifted his right fist, scaring Poet Zhao so much that he sputtered out a few more grunts and moans and then added pathetically, "Congratulations, congratulations…"
Baldy Li asked, "Congratulations for what?"
"Congratulations for beating my laborer identity back to the surface."
With Poet Zhao speaking this abjectly, Baldy Li couldn't bring himself to strike him again. He lowered his fist and loosened his grip on Zhao's collar. Then he laughed as he patted Poet Zhao's shoulder and said, "Don't mention it."
With that, Baldy Li — after having been beaten to a pulp by his former partners for three straight months — finally reemerged on Liu's streets with his former swagger. The townspeople grinned as they watched Poet Zhao slink away, then noticed that Writer Liu was also standing in the crowd. Squinting, the onlookers watched Liu with one eye, and Baldy Li resting and panting on the ground with the other. Everyone remembered how Baldy Li had once beaten up Writer Liu, and the nostalgically minded among them hoped history would repeat itself. Everyone watched Writer Liu intently as they discussed Baldy Li: He had lost weight and been beaten black and blue by his five creditors, so no one had expected that he would be able to beat up the healthy Poet Zhao as easily as an eagle grabbing a chick. Everyone looked at Writer Liu and concluded, "It is certainly true that a starving camel is still bigger than a well-fed horse."
Liu understood the implication of what they were saying and recognized that they desired nothing more than to see him follow in Poet Zhao's footsteps. Flushing bright red, he considered turning around and leaving, but he knew that if he did, he would become fodder for everyone's after-dinner jokes. Determined to save face, Writer Liu had no choice but to stand there resolutely. The onlookers tried to egg Baldy Li on, but he merely sat with his back against a wutong tree, his stomach growling in hunger. He was in the process of swallowing his own saliva to assuage his hunger and seemed deaf to everyone's taunts. The onlookers then attempted to rile him, asking how Men of Letters could be so cowardly. They said that Poet Zhao's earlier obsequious expression made him worse than a traitor, and that he had not only lost face but had even caused his parents to lose face.