“Are you killing the cow?” Zhuang asked.
“There’s nothing else we can do. It’s been too long, so we’d be better off to kill her to give her release than to let her continue to suffer. If she could talk, she would want it this way. You’re a celebrity who came to see her when she was sick. And you returned today when she has reached the end of her life.”
“The cow and I have a karmic connection.”
The blade-wielding man laughed. “Old Qi, I’m afraid no one will come to see you when you die.”
“I deserve that,” Liu’s husband said. “The cow is going to die by my hand, and that makes me guilty, too.”
The man walked up to the cow with the blade between his teeth, tightening his belt. “Old Qi, you and your wife come hold down the horns.” Liu’s husband went up while Aunty Liu covered her face and ran inside. “Women!” her husband cursed, holding both horns. She paused at the door, unable to bear the sight, but also unable to face the fact that she would not be with the cow when she died. Facing the door, she held tightly onto the rings. With the blade still in his mouth giving off a white glint, he felt around the cow’s throat before taking the instrument out of his mouth.
“Would you mind holding the cow’s tail, mister?” he asked. When Zhuang did not move, the man sneered and knelt down on one leg.
“Your suffering is reaching its end today. Don’t be reborn as a cow in your next life.” With a swish, he plunged the blade into the cow’s neck so deeply that part of the handle was invisible. Zhuang saw her eyes, the color of egg whites, roll up, as hot, gamey air gurgled around the entry point and blood ran down onto the warm earth in pink bubbles. Suddenly drained of energy, Zhuang squatted down when he saw Aunty Liu’s hands slip out of the rings as she slumped to the doorsill. At that moment, the cattle outside the yard bellowed and ran in circles as if crazed, kicking up so much dirt that the area was blanketed in dust. The butcher yelled and went over to shut the gate, picking up a leather whip. One crack of the whip stopped the cattle from stampeding. One let out a bleak lowing as it raced toward a trench, followed by the others, all emitting the same sound. Zhuang watched for a while, then turned back to see a cowhide spread out on the ground. The man rummaged in the messy cow flesh before retrieving a small golden-yellow object.
“Would you look at this cow bezoar!” He was so excited, he raised it in his bloody hands to look at it in the sunlight. Steam still hovered around the object.
Aunty Liu’s husband dragged Zhuang inside to sit at a table with food and drink.
When Zhuang finally woke up from his dazed state, he noticed that there was a large basket next to him filled with chunks of beef, while the bloody hide was spread over the fence to dry. He did not have anything to drink.
“I would like to buy the hide,” he said.
The man tossed down a mouthful of liquor and said, “Oh, so you’re a leather merchant? This is an excellent hide. What are you offering?”
“I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“Don’t talk about price,” Liu cut in. “If you want it, Mr. Zhuang, it’s yours.”
. . .
After arriving at Dazheng’s house, Liu Yue immediately realized that her husband’s house, like Zhuang’s, had a constant stream of visitors, with one difference: Zhuang’s guests were cultural figures, while those coming to Dazheng’s house were mostly high-ranking officials from government bureaus and departments, factory owners, and businessmen. They never came empty-handed, bringing gifts ranging from big-ticket items like refrigerators and color TVs to smaller presents such as cigarettes, liquor, and fruit; and they all followed the same rule, placing the gifts in a small windowless storage room next to the shoe rack while changing into slippers. They would then sit in the living room to talk to the host, the former saying nothing about the gifts, the latter offering no thanks for them. Liu Yue did not have to come out to greet visitors, except when her mother-in-law or husband called to her, “Come join us, Liu Yue.” She would then come out of the bedroom, as pretty as a flower, and smile charmingly at the guests, occasionally engaging in a bit of idle chat. She knew unerringly when they had finished their tea, but instead of attending to it herself, she called out, “Come pour some more tea, Xiaoju.”
Liu Yue had met the maid Xiaoju on the morning after the wedding. She was sorting chives in the kitchen. Unconsciously Liu Yue went over and picked up a handful, but she quickly dropped them to wash her hands at the sink. The maid snorted. As she scrubbed her hands with a bar of perfumed soap, Liu Yue asked, “What’s your name?”
“Xiaoju.”
“Let’s have some dumplings today, Xiaoju,” Liu Yue said. “Don’t skimp on the dried shrimps. Let me know before you add them and I’ll do it.”
Without responding, Xiaoju continued to sort the chives for a moment. “The dumplings at the mayor’s house never have dried shrimps.”
Liu Yue paused and scowled. “I don’t care. That’s how I want them.” She flicked the water off her hands and, without turning off the faucet, walked back to her room, accompanied by the sound of gushing water. “Turn off the faucet.”
Bored to tears after ten days, she told Dazheng she wanted a job. He said they had someone working on her city residency, and she couldn’t work until it was finalized. Saying she didn’t care, she insisted on finding a job. He relayed her demand to his mother, who, after lengthy consideration, called Ruan Zhifei and asked him to find something for Liu Yue at his dance hall. She started the next day.
Liu Yue was neither a singer nor a dancer, but she had a pretty face and a good figure, so she learned to walk the runway with the models. The long-legged, narrow-waisted models were all attractive, but their faces betrayed a lack of education. Liu Yue, on the other hand, had read enough to give her a refined look, and since she knew how to highlight her graceful bearing, she soon became the top model. When the residents of the city came to a fashion show, they were there for the models, not for the clothes. In other words, no matter what the fashion designers put on the models, in the spectators’ eyes the women were naked, which was why the members of the audience were often heard to say that a certain one had a pretty face but was too big in the butt, or another one was too skinny and could use larger breasts. In the end, they all thought the sexiest and most fetching woman was the model Liu Yue, who elicited whistles and lewd shouts every time she showed up. Talk of the beautiful model at Ruan Zhifei’s dance hall spread, and his business boomed.