Mrs. Yun was no longer in pain, but she was growing feverish. She heard Youlin say, “Let’s take off our clothes.” It seemed to be someone else speaking. After hesitating a moment, she began undressing. So did Youlin. Holding each other, they walked toward the marsh. Strictly speaking, Youlin dragged Mrs. Yun over there.
The sun was shining, and the water was warm. Sex in the marsh wasn’t like real sex. There was only extreme longing, but she felt no great pleasure. At first, Mrs. Yun thought she would sink, but the damp earth beneath her was buoyant. Their bodies were half-buried in it, but they didn’t sink down. She embraced him tightly. She felt he was confident in his knowledge of the earth here.
When they went back to the apple tree, some leeches were sticking to their bodies. Mrs. Yun abhorred them, beat them hard, and got rid of two of them. She dressed. Five were sticking to Youlin, but he didn’t care. Nor did he get dressed. He sat on a rock, casting his eyes at the marsh in the distance. Mrs. Yun thought he had forgotten her. Anyhow, what were they to each other? Mrs. Yun couldn’t think it through at this moment. When she looked up, she saw a lot of black rings on the apple tree, one ring within another — much like Wumei’s papercuts. She thought of asking this man what was hanging on the tree, but when she saw his expression, she abandoned the idea.
“I have to go home. I’m a little afraid of that bird.”
“Then I’ll walk you home.”
Youlin got dressed and walked behind her in silence. Mrs. Yun walked rapidly. When she passed the mulberry opposite her front door, she didn’t see the bird. There was just a pile of bird droppings on the ground. Mrs. Yun went through the courtyard gate, and when she turned around, Youlin had disappeared.
Mr. Yun and Wumei were playing Chinese chess in the courtyard. Mrs. Yun raised her voice and said: “Who among our villagers has ever gone to the marsh?”
Mr. Yun stretched, stood up, and said: “No one. But at night, outsiders have come out from there. I’ve heard that people and carts are coming and going all the time. But I’ve never seen what actually goes on there.”
Mrs. Yun looked at her husband in disbelief and went into the kitchen without a word.
As she cooked, Mrs. Yun tried hard to remember how she had reached the marsh. It was at least twelve miles from the village. How had she been able to make the round trip in such a short time — as if she had flown? If it was always so easy, then wasn’t it as if Youlin lived at her front door? She felt she’d made a mistake and thought there might be problems later. Back then, in her hometown, she hadn’t fallen in love with Youlin. Where on earth had he come from now? Was this person really Youlin?
At night, when the moon shone into the bedroom, Mr. Yun had already been in and out of many dreams. All of a sudden, Mrs. Yun woke up and heard some movement in the next room. Without even bothering to put on her shoes, she rushed out.
“Wumei! Wumei!”
Shivering, she groped for a match on the windowsill and lit the lamp. The bed was empty. Where was Wumei? Ah, she was squatting next to the bureau. She stood up and covered half of her face with her hand.
“What happened to your face?”
“Leave me alone!”
Mrs. Yun suddenly pulled her hand away from her face. Then she retreated two steps in fright, for half of her daughter’s face had disappeared, as if it had been cut off with a knife!
“Oh! Yunshan! Yunshan!!” Mrs. Yun screamed for her husband.
“You are so ignorant.”
With that, Wumei calmly walked out.
In the lamplight, Mrs. Yun noticed black rings all over the room, some moving in the air, others attached to the walls. Several were even hanging from the beams. Mr. Yun came into the room; he seemingly didn’t care about these black rings. He stood motionless in the middle of the room.
“Wumei. her face. ” Mrs. Yun stuttered.
“Ha, this little thing! Her hoaxes are becoming more and more brilliant. Just ignore her.”
“What attacked her. Was it that bird?”
“Maybe. But don’t you worry about her. She’s destined to survive.”
“Destined to survive?”
Taking her doubts with her, Mrs. Yun went back to bed. In the dark, she asked Mr. Yun: “Do you remember Youlin, who repaired tires on the corner of Dragon Street?”
“Sure. I had him repair tires for me. He went north a long time ago when some of his relatives asked him to run a factory there.”
“But I’ve seen a man much like him here. How can someone look so much like him? Even his voice is the same.”
Mr. Yun seemed to be snickering. After a while, Mrs. Yun heard him snoring.
=
The gigantic bird was still sitting in the tree, but it had been several days since it had attacked any of the family’s livestock. What was it doing sitting up there? Mrs. Yun thought it must be very hungry; green light flashed from its eyes even though it was daytime. Mrs. Yun sometimes thought of detouring around it, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking over there again. Once, she was so frightened when she looked up that she almost plopped down on the ground. After a while, a thought came to her: “Is it possible that this thing wants to eat me?” When she turned around and took another look, it had closed its eyes. She regretted having approached it just then — it was too risky.
In the cool early morning breeze, Mrs. Yun stood next to the kidney bean vine and recalled meeting Mr. Yun years earlier for the first time. His family had moved from far away to the town where her family lived. It was a long time before people in the neighborhood became aware of their existence, because the family didn’t talk much with others — and because they delivered coal for a living. City people generally did not make friends with coal deliverymen. When he was young, Mr. Yun was rather thin, not as robust as he was now. One time he was pulling a cart of coal up the steepest incline on the neighboring street. It was drizzling and his tires skidded. He kept climbing up and sliding down. Mrs. Yun was watching from one side. Probably it was the eighth or ninth time that he slipped down that Mrs. Yun couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She rushed up and helped him push the cart. Then the two of them went up the slope together. Little did she think that Mr. Yun would stop the cart and angrily rebuke her for meddling. Mrs. Yun blushed, glared at him in disdain, and left.
Before long, Mr. Yun invited her to a movie. When he was young, Mr. Yun was very handsome. How could Mrs. Yun turn him down? Later, she discovered that Mr. Yun was generally amiable, but if one interfered with his work, he immediately turned harsh. He couldn’t put up with any comments on his work. During those years on Dragon Street, Mrs. Yun saw her husband toiling and wanted him to hire a helper, but he sternly refused. He went to work on time every day and never asked for time off. Even when he was sick, he wouldn’t let Mrs. Yun help. When he pulled the cart, his body became one with the cart. Even Mrs. Yun felt there was no room for another person in this scene. Mrs. Yun joked with him and nicknamed him “Charcoal.” She felt all along that he pulled the cart not only to support the family but also for another reason. What on earth was this other reason?
She observed him working under the blazing sun. The blacktop roads were boiling hot. Drop by drop, his sweat fell onto the ground. His eyes were wide open and his face a little pale. Mrs. Yun thought he would have heat stroke, but she also knew that he was engrossed in daydreams and so she shouldn’t disturb him. From years of experience, Mrs. Yun knew that the more strain he was under, the more excited he was. And so the one time that she had helped him push the cart had amounted to depriving him of pleasure.