Everyone heard her. Huaizhen was stunned that Yuxiu would say something like that. Without a word, she removed her arm, turned, and walked home. By dinnertime that night, Yuxiu’s calamity was on its way, although she did not know it. She was eating a bowl of rice porridge at the head of the lane when a group of a dozen or so boys from five to about eight years in age walked up to her door, each with a handful of broad beans. “ Kuang kuang kuang,” they hollered as they ate the beans, “Piss Pot Wang, kuang kuang kuang, Shit Can Wang.” At first she didn’t pay attention and wasn’t sure what Piss Pot Wang and Shit Can Wang referred to. But she quickly figured out what they meant.
The real hurt came from the word “Wang.” In other words, the boys were calling her “Queen of the Piss Pot” and “Queen of the Shit Can.” She simply stood there, rice bowl in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and acted dumb. She couldn’t make them stop, and they were so loud that several other kids walked up to join them. Crowds are like that: As long as they make enough noise, plenty of people will join in. This particular crowd kept getting bigger and began taking on the look of a parade.
They yelled so loud that their faces turned red and their necks thickened.
“Kuang kuang kuang, Piss Pot Wang, kuang kuang kuang, Shit Can Wang, kuang kuang kuang, Piss Pot Wang, kuang kuang kuang, Shit Can Wang.”
Too young to realize what they were doing, they thought that they were just having fun. But while they may not have known what they were saying, people who heard them did. Things were getting interesting. Before Yuxiu knew it, the lane was filled with people, mostly adults. As if they were watching an outdoor opera, they laughed and talked and had a grand time. Piss Pot and Shit Can.
At first the words had only hinted at something, and were little more than a verbal game. But not now. They had floated to the surface, had gone public, and had taken on fixed meanings. They had become slogans invested with deep emotional impact. Everyone who witnessed the incident knew that.
Meanwhile, Yuxiu stood there not knowing what to say or do, and her face underwent a slow change. She felt a greater shame than if she had been standing there naked. She might as well have been a dog. The sun was about to set behind the mountain, and the sky above Wang Family Village turned blood red. As she stood in the lane, Yuxiu felt like biting someone, but she didn’t have the strength. The soupy rice had long since dribbled down her chin. “Kuang kuang kuang, Piss Pot Wang. Kuang kuang kuang, Shit Can Wang! Kuang kuang kuang, Piss Pot Wang. Kuang kuang kuang, Shit Can Wang!” It had a nice ring to it, like a chant.
Before she left home, Yuxiu swore that once she walked out the front door, she would never again set foot in Wang Family Village. She’d be ashamed to show her face in this place. She had no interest in settling scores with its residents. If everyone is your enemy, it is the same as having no enemies. When there are too many lice, you stop scratching.
Yuxiu accepted what had befallen her. She could let everyone off the hook but the little whore Yusui. Thanks to her, Yuxiu was no longer able to hold her head up in Wang Family Village. If the little whore had never uttered those evil, hurtful words, none of this would have happened. The girl would have to pay, especially since she was her own sister. This was one score Yuxiu was determined to settle. And once she’d made up her mind, she swung into action.
One morning before the sun was up, Yuxiu got out of bed and tiptoed up to Yusui’s bed with a kerosene lantern.
The little whore really was a simpleton; she looked dumber than other people even when she slept, with her arms and legs spread all over the place like a dead pig. Yuxiu set down the lantern and took out a pair of scissors. In a matter of seconds, Yusui was bald on one side, not neatly, but as if a dog had gnawed on her hair. It changed her appearance so much that she looked like a different—and very strange—person.
After laying the locks of hair in Yusui’s hand, Yuxiu slapped her sister twice and ran. She’d barely made it to the door when she heard odd noises coming from Yusui. Seeing her own hair in her hand must have scared the little whore silly, especially since she had no idea what had happened. All she could do was scream.
Yuxiu ran as fast and as far as she could, and when she conjured up the bizarre image of Yusui holding clumps of her own hair in her hand, she had to laugh. Soon she was laughing so hard her body seemed to get lighter and she could barely breathe. Few people were as stupid as Yusui, the little whore. It took her forever to realize that her cheeks were stinging. The little whore’s head must be filled with pig intestines.
Once she had settled into a room in the commune compound, Yuxiu uncharacteristically turned into a hardworking, almost servile resident. Yumi could tell that her sister had come to Broken Bridge not because she was clever enough to anticipate Yumi’s plan. Not at all. The little fox fairy had dragged her broken tail to town because she couldn’t stay another day in Wang Family Village. That was a fact.
Yumi would know what sort of fart was coming whenever Yuxiu fidgeted. Pleased with the change in her newly servile sister, she saw no need to tell her about the purchasing station, not yet. Better to give her time to put her lazy past behind her and get rid of her haughty ways. Things had changed, and Yumi was beginning to place a bit of hope in Yuxiu. Time for her to learn how to get along in this world. The girl’s flirty nature had been a constant worry, but no longer.
Rape is never a good thing, but in this case, it had led to a radical shift in behavior when Yuxiu realized that she needed to change for the better. A terrible incident had produced positive results.
Yuxiu had not yet fully recovered from her frightful ordeal; she still had a ways to go to feel as safe and secure as Yumi did, and as the days passed, the heaviness in her heart actually increased. She had left home with one thought—to get as far away from Wang Family Village as possible—and had never considered the prospect that Yumi might not want to take her in.
If that happened, however remote the possibility, she would have no place to go, and now that she had taken the fateful step, fear over that grim scenario began to set in. To complicate matters, there was Guo Jiaxing to deal with, not to mention his daughter, Guo Qiaoqiao; and that made her situation even more grim.
It did not take Yuxiu long to realize that her fate was not in the hands of Yumi, but in those of Guo Jiaxing and, quite possibly, his daughter. Yumi may have considered herself important in Wang Family Village, but in this house she enjoyed no discernible authority. None, actually. This came across most clearly at the dinner table, where Guo always sat at the head in his rattan chair, facing south. He was in the habit of smoking a cigarette before the meal, scowling as if he were angry at someone.
Qiaoqiao was different. A sophomore in high school, she was known for her antics and the loud, coarse language that emerged from her mouth. But at home she was a different person. She’d pull a face as long as a carrying pole and, like her father, appear to be angry at someone. That someone, obviously, was Yumi. When the rice bowls were filled, Yumi sat between Guo Jiaxing on her left and Qiaoqiao on her right, an arrangement that put her on tenterhooks, afraid that she’d do something wrong. When she reached out with her chopsticks to pick something out of a dish, she’d sneak a look first at Guo Jiaxing, then at Qiaoqiao, to check out the looks on their faces.