Xing’er, Bai Xing’er, my wife, my very own… I shouted, but all that came out were donkey sounds. The throat of a donkey thwarted my attempts at human speech. I hated my donkey body. I struggled to say something to you, but reality is cruel, and no matter what words of love I formed in my heart, all that came out was Hee-haw, hee-haw – So all I could do was kiss you, caress you with my hooves, and let my tears fall onto your face. A donkey’s tears are as big as the biggest raindrops. I washed your face with my tears as you lay on your back looking up at me, tears filling your eyes as well as you murmured, Husband, my husband… I tore off your clothes with my teeth and covered you with kisses, suddenly reminded of our wedding night. You were so shy, panting so alluringly, and I could tell that you were a daughter from a refined family, a girl who could embroider a double lotus and recite the “Thousand Poets’ Verses”…
A crowd of people, hooting and hollering, surged into the Ximen compound and snapped me out of my dream. There would be no good times for me, no conjugal bliss. They brought me back from my half human-half donkey existence. I was once again a donkey from head to tail. The people all wore scowls of arrogance as they barged into the western rooms and emerged with Lan Lian in custody; they stuck a white paper flag in his collar behind his neck. Though he tried to resist, it took little effort to subdue him. And when he tried to complain, they said, We’ve been ordered to inform you that you can farm your own land if that’s what you want, but smelting steel and building a reservoir are national projects requiring the participation of all citizens. We overlooked you when we built the reservoir, but you’re not getting out of work this time. Two men dragged him bodily out of the compound and another came to lead me out of my lean-to, a fellow with considerable experience in dealing with domestic animals: sidling up next to me, he grabbed hold of the bit and jerked it up into my mouth at the slightest sign of resistance, causing unbearable pain and making it hard for me to breathe.
My master’s wife ran out in an attempt to stop him from leading me away.
“You can take my husband out to work, that’s fine by me,” she said, “and I’ll smash rocks and smelt steel if you want. But you cannot take my donkey with you.”
With a display of anger and impatience, the man said:
“What do you take us for, madam citizen, puppet soldiers out to confiscate people’s livestock? We’re core members of the People’s Commune Militia, and we’re following orders, just doing our job. We’re taking your donkey on loan. You’ll get him back when we’re finished with him.”
“I’ll go in his place!” Yingchun said.
“Sorry, but those aren’t our orders and we’re not authorized to improvise.”
Lan Lian broke loose from the men holding him.
“There’s no call for you to treat me like this,” he said. “Building a reservoir and smelting steel are national projects, so of course I’ll go without complaint. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. But I have one request. Let my donkey go with me.”
“That’s something we’re not authorized to permit. Take up your request with our superiors.”
So the man led me out cautiously, ready for anything, whereas Lan Lian was escorted out of the compound and the village as if he were an army deserter, past the onetime district offices and all the way over to the People’s Commune, which, as it turned out, was where the red-nosed blacksmith and his apprentice had fitted me with my first set of iron shoes at their furnace. As we were passing the Ximen ancestral cemetery, some middle-school students under the supervision of their teachers were digging up graves and removing headstones; a woman in white mourning attire came flying out of the caretaker’s hut and ran straight for the students, throwing herself onto the back of one of them, her hands around his neck. But a brick flew over and hit her in the back of the head. Her face was ghostly white, as if covered with quicklime. Her earsplitting shrieks angered me. Flames brighter than molten steel licked up out of my heart, and I heard human speech tear from my throat:
“Stop! I, Ximen Nao, demand that you stop digging up my ancestral graves! And don’t you dare strike my wife!”
I reared up, ignoring the lip-splitting pain from the bit, lifting the man beside me up into the air and then flinging him into the mud alongside the road. As a donkey, I could have treated what I was seeing with indifference. But as a man, I could not allow anyone to dig up my ancestral graves or strike my wife. I charged into the crowd of students and bit one of their teachers on the head, then knocked down a student who was bent over to scoop out dirt. The students fled, their teachers lay on the ground. I watched Ximen Bai roll around, and cast one last glance at the open graves before turning and racing into the dark confines of a pine forest.
10
Favored with a Glorious Task, I Garry a County Chief
Meeting Up with a Tragic Mishap, I Break a Front Hoof
My anger slowly subsided after two days of running wild across Northeast Gaomi Township territory hunger forcing me to subsist on wild grass and the bark of trees. This coarse diet brought home the hardships of living the life of a donkey. A longing for the fragrant feed I’d gotten used to led me back to the life of a common domestic animal, and I began the trek back to my village, drawing close to human habitation.
At noontime that day, I reached the outskirts of Tao Family Village, where I saw a horse carriage at rest beneath a towering ginkgo tree. The heavy aroma of bean cakes mixed with rice straw filled my nostrils. Two mules that had been pulling the carriage were standing beside a basket hanging from a triangular trestle feasting on the fragrant feed.
I had always looked down on mules, bastard animals that were neither horse nor donkey, and wanted nothing more than the opportunity to bite them into oblivion. But on this day, fighting was the furthest thing from my mind. What I wanted was to edge up to the basket and get my share of some good food to replenish the strength I’d used up during two days of rushing headlong from one end of the territory to the other.
Holding my breath, I approached them gingerly, striving to keep the bell around my neck from announcing my arrival. Though that bell, placed there by the crippled war hero, enhanced my stature, there were times when it worked against me. When I ran like the wind, it signaled the passage of a mighty hero; at the same time, it kept me from ever breaking free of pursuit by humans.
The bell tinkled. The heads of the two mules, both much bigger than I, shot up. Knowing at once what I was after, they pawed the ground and snorted menacingly, warning me not to set hoof in their territory. But with all that good food in front of my eyes, how could I simply turn and walk away? I surveyed the scene: The black, long-necked mule was yoked in the wagon shafts, so he didn’t worry me. The second animal, a young black mule that was tethered and fettered, would also have trouble dealing with me. All I had to do to get to the food was stay clear of their teeth.