沈从文《巧秀和冬生》中英双语 -《湘西散记：汉英对照》

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巧秀和冬生

雪在融化。田沟里到处有注入小溪河中的融雪水，正如对于远海的向往，共同作成一种欢乐的奔赴。来自留有残雪溪涧边竹篁丛中的山鸟声，比地面花草占先透露出一点儿春天消息，对我更俨然是种会心的招邀。就中尤以那个窗后竹园的寄居者，全身油灰、颈脖间围了一条锦带的斑鸠，作成的调子越来越复杂，也越来越离奇，好像在我耳边作成一种对话，代替我和巧秀的对话：

“巧秀，巧秀，你可当真要走？你千万莫走！”

“哥哥，哥哥，喔。你可是叫我？你从不理我，怎么好责备我？”

原本还不过是在晓梦迷蒙里，听到这个古怪荒谬的对答，醒来不免十分惆怅。目前却似乎清清楚楚的，且稍微有点儿嘲谑意味，近在我耳边诉说。我再也不能在这个大庄院住下了。因此用“欢喜单独”作理由，迁移了个新地方，村外药王宫偏院中小楼上。这也可说正是我自己最如意的选择。因为庙宇和村子有个大田坝隔离，地位完全孤立。生活得到单独也就好像得到一切，为我十八岁年纪时来这里作客所需要的一切。

我一生中到过许多稀奇古怪的去处，过了许多式样不同的桥，坐过许多式样不同的船，还睡过许多式样不同的床。可再没有比半月前在满家大庄院中那一晚，躺在那铺楠木雕花大床上，让远近山鸟声和房中壶水沸腾，把生命浮起的情形更心境离奇。以及迁到这个小楼上来，躺在一铺硬板床上，让远近更多山鸟声填满心中空虚所形成的一种情绪更幽渺难解！

院子本来不小，大半都已被细叶竹科植物所遮蔽，只余一条青石板砌成的走道可以给我独自散步。在丛竹中我发现有宜于作手杖的罗汉竹和棕竹，有宜于作箫管的紫竹和白竹，还有宜于作钓鱼竿的蛇尾竹。这一切性质不同的竹子，却于微风疏刷中带来一片碎玉倾洒，带来了和雪不相同的冷。更见得幽绝处，还是那个小楼屋脊。因为地方特别高，宜于遥瞻远瞩，几乎随时都有不知名鸟雀在上面歌呼。有些见得分外从容，完全无为的享受它自己的音乐，唱出生命的欢欣。有些又显然十分焦躁，如急于招朋唤侣，来表示对于爱情生活的渴望。那个油灰色斑鸠更是我屋顶的熟客，本若为逃避而来，来到此地却和它有了更多亲近机会。那个低沉微带忧郁的反复嘀咕，始终像在提醒我一件应搁下终无从搁下的事情——巧秀的出走。即初来这个为大雪所覆盖的村子里，参加朋友家喜筵过后，房主人点上火炬预备送我到偏院去休息时，随同老太太身后，负衾抱裯来到我房中，咬着下唇一声不响为我铺床理被的那个十七岁乡下姑娘巧秀。我正想用她那双眉毛和新娘子的眉毛作个比较，证实一下传说可不可靠。并在她那条大辫子和发育得壮实完整的四肢上，做了点儿十八岁年青人的荒唐梦。不意到第二天吃早饭桌边，却听人说她已带了个小小包袱，跟随个吹唢呐的乡下男人逃走了。那个小小包袱，竟像是把我所有的一点儿什么东西，一颗心或一种梦，也于无意中带走了。

巧秀逃走已经半个月，还不曾有回头消息。试用想象追寻一下这个发辫黑、眼睛光、胸脯饱满乡下姑娘的去处，两人过日子的种种，以及明日必然的结局，自不免更加使人茫然若失。因为不仅偶然被带走的东西已找不回来，即这个女人本身，那双清明无邪眼睛所蕴蓄的热情，沉默里所具有的活跃生命力，一切都远了，被一种新的接续而来的生活所腐蚀，遗忘在时间后，从此消失了，不见了。常德府的大西关，辰州府的尤家巷，以及沅水流域大小水码头边许多小船上，经常有成千上万接纳客商的小婊子，脸宽宽的眉毛细弯弯的，坐在舱前和船尾晒太阳，一面唱《十想郎》小曲遣送白日，一面纳鞋底绣花荷包，企图用这些小物事联结水上来去弄船人的恩情。平凡相貌中无不有一颗青春的心永远在燃烧中。一面是如此燃烧，一面又终不免为生活缚住，挣扎不脱，终于转成一个悲剧的结束，恩怨交缚气量窄，投河吊颈之事日有所闻。追溯这些女人的出处背景时，有大半和巧秀就差不多。缘于成年前后那份痴处，那份无顾忌的热情，冲破了乡村习惯，不顾一切的跑去。从水取譬，“不到黄河心不死”。但这些从山里流出的一脉清泉，大都却不曾流到洞庭湖，便滞住在什么小城小市边，水码头边，过日子下来。向前不可能，退后办不到，于是如彼如此的完了。

我住处的药王宫，原是一村中最高会议所在地，村保国民小学的校址，和保卫一地治安的团防局办公处。正值年假，学校师生都已回了家。会议平时只有两种：积极的是春秋二季邀木傀儡戏班子酬神还愿，推首事人出份子。消极的便只是县城里有公事来时，集合士绅人民商量对策。地方治安既不大成问题，团防局事务也不多，除了我那朋友满大队长自兼保长，局里固定职员，只有个戴大眼镜读《随园食谱》用小绿颖水笔办公事的师爷，另一个年纪十四岁头脑单纯的局丁。地方所属自卫武力，虽有三十多支杂色枪，平时却分散在村子里大户人家中，以防万一，平时并不需要。换言之，即这个地方经常是冷清清的。因为地方治安无虞，农村原有那分静，表面看也还保持得上好。

搬过药王宫半个月来，除了和大队长赶过几回场，买了些虎豹皮，选了些斗鸡种，上后山猎了几回毛兔，一群人一群狗同在春雪始融湿滑滑的涧谷石崖间转来转去，搅成一团，累得个一身大汗，其余时间居多倒是看看局里老师爷和小局丁对棋。两人年纪一个已过四十六七，一个还不及十五，两面行棋都不怎么高明，却同样十分认真。局里还有半部石印《聊斋志异》。这地方环境和空气，才真宜于读《聊斋志异》！不过更新的发现，却是从局里住屋一角新孵的一窝小鸡上，及床头一束束不知名草药的效用上，和师爷于短时期即成了个忘年交，又从另外一种方式上，和小局丁也成了真正知己。先是翻了几天《聊斋志异》，以为“青凤”“黄英”会有一天忽然掀帘而入，来此以前且可听到楼梯间细碎脚步声。事实上雀鼠作成的细碎声音虽多，青凤黄英始终不露面。这种悬想的等待，既混合了恐怖与欢悦，对于十八岁的生命而言自然也极受用。可是一和两人相熟，我就觉得抛下那几本残破小书实在大有道理，因为只要我高兴，随意浏览另外一本大书某一章节，都无不生命活跃引人入胜！

巧秀的妈原是溪口人，二十三岁时即守寡，守住那不及两岁大的巧秀和七亩山田。年纪青，不安分甘心如此下去，就和一个黄罗寨打虎匠偷偷相好。族里人知道了这件事，想图谋那片薄田，捉奸捉双，两人终于被生生捉住。一窝蜂把两人拥到祠堂里去公开审判。本意也只是大雷小雨的将两人吓一阵，痛打一阵，大家即从他人受难受折磨情形中，得到一种离奇的满足，再把她远远的嫁去，讨回一笔彩礼，作为脸面钱，用少数买点儿纸钱为死者焚化，其余的即按好事出力的程度均分花用。这原是本地旧规矩，凡事照规矩作去，他人无从反对。不意当时作族长的，巧秀妈未嫁时，曾拟为跛儿子讲作儿媳妇，巧秀妈却嫌他一只脚，不答应，族长心中即憋住一腔恨恼。后来又借故一再调戏，反被那有性子的小寡妇大骂一顿，以为老没规矩老无耻。把柄拿在寡妇手上，还随时可以宣布。如今既然出了这种笑话，因此回复旧事，仇人见面分外眼红，极力主张把黄罗寨那风流打虎匠两只脚捶断，且当小寡妇面捶断。私刑执行时，打虎匠咬定牙齿一声不哼，只把一双眼睛盯看着小寡妇。处罚完事，即预备派两个长年把他抬回二十里外黄罗寨去。事情既有凭有据，黄罗寨人自无话说。可是小寡妇呢，却当着族里人表示她也要跟去。田产女儿通不要，也得跟去。这一来族中人真是面子失尽。尤其是那个一族之长，心怀狠毒，情绪复杂，怕将来还有事情，倒不如一不做二不休连根割断，竟提议把这个不知羞耻的贱妇照老规矩沉潭，免得黄罗寨人说话。族祖既是个读书人，有个小小功名，读过几本“子曰”，加之辈分大，势力强，且平时性情又特别顽固专横，即由此种种，同族子弟不信服也得畏惧三分。如今既用维持本族名誉面子为理由，提出这种兴奋人的意见，并附带说事情解决后再商量过继香火问题。人多易起哄，大家不甚思索自然即随声附和。合族一经同意，那些年青无知好事者，即刻就把绳索和磨石找来，督促进行。在纷乱中族中人道德感和虐待狂已混淆不可分。其他女的都站得远远的，又怕又难受，无可奈何，只轻轻的喊着“天”，却无从作其他抗议。一些年青族中人，即在祠堂外把那小寡妇上下衣服剥个精光，两手缚定，背上负了面小石磨，并用藤葛紧紧把石磨扣在颈脖上。大家围住小寡妇，一面无耻放肆的欣赏那个光鲜鲜的年青肉体，一面还狠狠的骂女人无耻。小寡妇却一声不响，任其所为，眼睛湿莹莹的从人丛中搜索那个冤家族祖。深怕揭底的族祖，却在剥衣时装作十分生气，上下狠狠的看了小寡妇几眼，口中不住骂“下贱下贱”，装作有事不屑再看，躲进祠堂里去了。到祠堂里就和其他几个年长族人商量打公禀禀告县里，准备大家画押，把责任推卸到群众方面去，免得将来出其他事故。也一面安慰安慰那些无可无不可年老怕事的族中长辈，引些圣经贤传除恶务尽的话语，免得中途变化。到了快要下半天的时候，族中一群好事者，和那个族祖，把小寡妇拥到溪口，上了一只小船，架起了桨，沉默着向溪口上游长潭划去。女的还是低头无语，只看着河中荡荡流水，以及被双桨搅碎水中的云影星光。也许正想起二辈子投生问题，或过去一时被族祖调戏不允许的故事，或是一些生前“欠人”“人欠”的小小恩怨。也许只想起打虎匠的过去当前，以及将来如何生活。不及两岁大的巧秀，明天会不会为人扼喉咙谋死？临出发到河边时，一个老表嫂抱了茫然无知的孩子，想近身来让小寡妇喂一口奶，老族祖一见，吼了一声，大骂“老狐狸，你见了鬼，还不赶快给我滚开！”一脚踢开。但很奇怪，从这妇人脸色上，竟看不出恨和惧，看不出特别紧张，一切都若平静异常。至于一族之长的那一位呢，正坐在船尾梢上，似乎正眼也不想看那小寡妇。其实心中却旋起一种极复杂纷乱的情感。为去掉良心上那些刺，只反复喃喃以为这事是应当的，全族脸面攸关，不能不如此。自己既为一族之长，又读过圣贤书，实有维持道德风化的责任。当然也并不讨厌那个青春康健光鲜鲜的肉体；讨厌的倒是，“肥水不落外人田”，这肉体被外人享受。妒忌在心中燃烧，道德感益发强，迫虐狂益发旺盛，只催促开船。至于其他族中人呢，想起的或者只是那几亩田将来究竟归谁管业，都不大自然。因为原来那点儿性冲动已成过去，都有点儿见输于小寡妇的沉静情势。小船摇到潭中最深处时，荡桨的把桨抽出水，搁在舷边。船停后轻轻向左旋着，又向右旋。大家都知道行将发生什么事。一个年纪稍大的某人说：“巧秀的娘，巧秀的娘，冤有头，债有主，你心里明白。好好的去了吧。你有什么话嘱咐，就说了吧。”小寡妇望望那个说话安慰她的人，过一会儿方低声说：“三表哥，做点儿好事，不要让他们捏死我巧秀喔。那是人家的香火！长大了，不要记仇，就够了！”大家静默了。美丽黄昏的空气中，一切沉静。先是谁也不肯下手。老族祖貌作雄强，心中实混合了恐怖与矜持，走过女人身边，冷不防一下子把那小寡妇就掀下了水。轻重一失衡，自己忙向另处一边倾坐，把小船弄得摇摇晃晃。人一下水，先是不免有一番小小挣扎，因为颈背上悬系的那面石磨相当重，随即打着旋向下直沉。一阵子水泡向上翻，接着是水天平静。船随水势溜着，渐渐离开了原来位置。船上的年青人眼都还直直的一声不响望着水面。因为死亡带走了她个人的耻辱和恩怨，却似乎留念给了每人一份看不见的礼物。虽说是要女儿长大后莫记仇，可是参加的人哪能忘记自己作的蠢事。几个人于是俨然完成了一件庄严重大的工作，把船掉了头。死的已因罪孽而死了，然而“死”的意义却转入生者担负上，还得赶快回到祠堂里去叩头，放鞭炮挂红，驱逐邪气，且表示这种“勇敢”和“决断”兼有真正愚蠢的行为，业已把族中受损失的“荣誉”收复。事实上，却是用这一切来祓除那点儿在平静中能生长，能传染，影响到人灵魂或良心的无形谴责。即因这种恐怖，过四年后，那族祖便在祠堂里发狂自杀了。只因为最后那句嘱咐，巧秀被送到三十里外的高枧满家庄院，活下来了。

巧秀长大了，亲眼看过这一幕把她带大的表叔，团防局的师爷，原本有意让她给满家大队长做小婆娘，有个归依，有个保护。只是老太太年老见事多，加之有个痛苦记忆在心上，以为凡事得从长作计。巧秀对过去事又实在毫无所知，只是不乐意。年龄也还早，因此暂时搁置。

巧秀常到团防局来帮师爷缝补衣袜，和冬生也相熟。冬生的妈杨大娘，一个穷得厚道贤惠的老妇人，在师爷面前总称许巧秀。冬生照例常常插嘴提醒他的妈，“我还不到十五岁，娘。”“你今年十五明年就十六，会长大的！”两母子于是在师爷面前作些小小争吵，说的话外人照例都不甚容易懂。师爷心中却明白，母子两人意见虽对立，却都欢喜巧秀，对巧秀十分关心。

巧秀的逃亡正如同我的来到这个村子里，影响这个地方并不多，凡是历史上固定存在的，无不依旧存在，习惯上进行的大小事情，无不依旧照常进行。

冬生的母亲一村子里通称为杨大娘。丈夫十年前死去时，只留下一所小小房屋和巴掌大一片菜地。生活虽穷然而为人笃实厚道，不乱取予，如一般所谓“老班人”。也信神，也信人，觉得这世界上有许多事得交把神，又简捷，又省事。不过有些问题神处理不了，可就得人来努力了。人肯好好的做下去，天大难事也想得出结果；办不了呢，再归还给神。如其他手足贴近土地的农村人民一样，处处尽人事而信天命，生命处处显出愚而无知，同时也处处见出接近了一个“宿命论”者，照读书人说来就是个“道”字。冬生在这么一个母亲身边，在看牛、割草、捡菌子，和其他农村子弟的生活方式中慢慢长大了，却长得壮实健康，机灵聪敏。只读过一年小学校，便会写一笔小楷字，且跟团防局师爷学习，懂得一点儿公文程式。作公丁收入本不多，唯穿吃住已不必操心。此外每月还有一箩净谷子，一点点钱。这份口粮捎回作家用，杨大娘生活因之也就从容得多。且本村二百五十户人家，团丁是义务性质不拿工薪的。有公职身份公份收入阶层总共不过四五人，除保长队长和那个师爷外，就只那两个小学教员，开支都不大。所以冬生的地位，也就值得同村小伙子羡慕而乐意得到它。职务在收入外还有个抽象价值，即抽丁免役，且少受来自城中军政各方的经常和额外摊派。凡是生长于同式乡村中的人，都知道上头的摊派法令，一年四季如何轮流来去，任何人都招架不住，任何人都不可免，唯有吃公事饭的人，却不大相同。正如村中“一脚踢”凡事承当的大队长，派人筛锣传口信集合父老于药王宫开会时，虽明说公事公办，从大户带头摊起，自己的磨坊、油坊，以及在场上的槽坊、小杂货铺统算在内，一笔数目照例比别人出的多。且愁眉不展的抱怨周转不灵，有时还得出子利举债。可是村子里人却只见到队长上城回来时，总带了些使人开眼的文明玩意儿，或换了顶呢毡帽。或捎了个洋水笔，遇有作公证画押事情，多数公民照例按指纹或画个十字，少数盖章，大队长却从中山装胸间口袋上拔出那亮晃晃圆溜溜宝贝，写上自己的名字，已够使人惊奇。一问价钱数目才更吓人，原来比一只耕牛还贵！像那么做穷人，谁不乐意！

冬生随同大队长的大白骡子来去县城里，一年不免有五七次，知识见闻自比其他乡下人丰富。加上母子平时的为人，因此也赢得一种不同地位。而这地位为人承认表示得十分明显，即几个小地主家有十二三岁小闺女的，都乐意招那么一个得力小伙子作上门女婿，以为兴家立业是个好帮手。

村子去县城已四十五里，离官路也在三里外。地方不当冲要，不曾驻过兵。因为有两口好井泉，长年不绝的流，营卫了一坝上好冬水田。田坝四周又全是一列小山围住，山坡上种满桐茶竹漆。村中规约好，不乱砍伐破山，不偷水争水。地方由于长期安定，形成的一种空气，也自然和普通破落农村不同，凡事照例都有个规矩。虽由于这个长远习惯的规矩，在经济上有人占了些优势，于本村成为长期统治者，首事人。也即因此另外有些人就不免世代守住佃户资格，或半流动性的长工资格，生活在被支配状况中，矛盾显明。但两者生活方式，虽有差距还是相隔不太多，同样得手足贴近土地，参加劳动生产，没有人完全袖手过日子。唯由此相互对照生活下，随同大社会的变动，依然产生了一种游离分子。这种人的长成，都若有个公式：凡事由小而大，小时候作顽童野孩子，事事想突破一乡公约，砍砍人家竹子作钓竿，摘摘人家园圃橘柚解渴，偷放人田中水捉鱼，或从他人装置的网弶中取去捉住的野兽。自幼即有个不劳而获的发明，且凡事作来相当顺手，长大后，自然便忘不了随事占点儿便宜。浪漫情绪一扩张，即必然从农民身份一变而成为“游玩”。社会还稳定，英雄无用武之地，不能成大气候，就在本村子里街头开个小门面，经常摆桌小牌抽点儿头，放点儿子母利。相熟方面多，一村子人事心中一本册，知道谁有势力谁无财富，就向那些有钱无后的寡妇施点儿小讹诈。平时既无固定生计，又不下田，四乡逢场时就飘场放赌。附近四十里每个村子里都有三五把兄弟，平时可以吃吃喝喝，困难时也容易相帮相助。或在猪牛买卖上插了句嘴，成交时便可从经纪方面分点儿酒钱，落笔小油水。什么村子里有大戏，必参加热闹。和掌班若有交情，开锣封箱必被邀请坐席吃八大碗，打加官叫出名姓，还得做面子打个红纸包封。新来年青旦角想成名，还得和他们周旋周旋，靠靠灯，方不会凭空为人抛石头打彩。出了事，或得罪了当地要人，或受了别的气扫了面子，不得不出外避风浪换码头，就挟了个小小包袱，向外一跑。更多的是学薛仁贵投军，自然从此就失踪了，居多迟早成了炮灰。若是个女的呢，情形就稍稍不同。生命发展与突变，影响于黄毛丫头时代的较少，大多数却和成年前后的性青春期有关。或为传统压住，挣扎无从，终于发疯自杀。或突过一切有形无形限制，独行其是，即必然是随人逃走。唯结果总不免依然在一悲剧性方式中收场。

但近二十年社会既长在变动中，二十年内战自残自黩的割据局面，分解了农村社会本来的一切。影响到这小地方，也自然明白易见。乡村游侠情绪和某种社会现实知识一接触，使得这个不足三百户人家的村子里，多有了三五十支杂色枪，和十来个退伍在役的连长、排长、班长，以及二三更高级更复杂些的人物。这些人多近于崭新的一个阶层，即求生存已脱离手足勤劳方式，而近于一个寄食者。有家有产的可能成为小土豪，无根无底的又可能转为游民、土匪，而两者又必有个共同的趋势，即越来越与人民土地生产劳作隔绝，却学会了新的世故和残暴。尤其是一些人学得了玩武器的技艺，干大事业既无雄心和机会，也缺少本钱。回转家乡当然就只能作点儿不费本钱的买卖。且于一种新的生活方式中，产生一套现实哲学。这体系虽不曾有人加以分析叙述，事实上却为极多数会玩那个照环境所许可的人物所采用。永远有个“不得已”作借口，于是绑票种烟都成为不得已。会合了各种不得已而作成的堕落，便形成了后来不祥局面的扩大继续。但是在当时那类乡村中，却激发了另外一方面的自卫本能，即大户人家对于保全财富进一步的技能。一面送子侄入军校，一面即集款购枪，保家保乡土，事实上也即是保护个人的特别权益。两者之间当然也就有了斗争，随时随地有流血事件发生，而结怨影响到累世。特别是小农村彼此利害不同的矛盾。这二十年一种农村分解形式，亦正如大社会在分解中的情形一样，许多问题本若完全对立，却到处又若有个矛盾的调和，在某种情形中，还可望取得一时的平衡。一守固定的土地，和大庄院、油坊或榨坊槽坊，一上山落草；却共同用个“家边人”名词，减少了对立与摩擦，各行其是，而各得所需。这事看来离奇又十分平常，为的是整个社会的矛盾的发展与存在，即与这部分的情形完全一致。国家重造的设计，照例多疏忽了对于这个现实爬梳分析的过程，结果是一例转入悲剧，促成战争。这小村子所在地，既为比较偏远边僻贵州湖南的边土，地方对“特货”一面虽严厉禁止，一面也抽收税捐。在这么一个情形下，地方特权者的对立，乃常常因“利益平分”而消失。地方不当官路，却宜于走私，烟土和盐巴的对流，支持了这个平衡的对立。对立既然是一种事实，各方面武器转而好像都收藏起来不见了。至少出门上路跑差事的人，为求安全，徒手反而比带武器来得更安全。过关入寨，一个有衔名片反而比一支枪更安全省事。

冬生在局里作事，间或得出出差，不外引导保护小烟贩一二挑烟土下行，或盐巴旁行。路不须出界外，所以对于这个工作也就十分简单。时当下午三点左右，照习惯送了两个带特货的客人从界内小路过境。出发前，还正和我谈起巧秀问题。一面用棕衣包脚，一面托我整理草鞋后跟和耳绊。

我逗弄他说：“冬生，巧秀跑了，那清早大队长怎不派你去追她回来？”

“人又不是溪水，用闸门哪关得住。人可是人！我即或是她的舅子，本领不大，也不会起作用！追上了也白追。”

“人正是人，哪能忘了大队长老太太十多年对她的恩情？还有师爷、磨坊，和那个溪水上游的钓鱼堤坝，都像熟亲友，怎么舍得？依我看，你就舍不得！”

“磨坊又不是她的财产。你从城里来，你欢喜，我们可不。巧秀心窍子通了，就跟人跑了。有仇报仇，有恩报恩，这笔账要明天再算去了。”

“她自己会不会回来？”

“回来吗？好马不吃回头草，哪有长江水倒流？”

“我猜想她总在几个水码头边落脚，不会飞到海外天边去。要找她一定找得回来。”

“打破了的坛子，谁也不要！”

“不要了吗？你舍得我倒舍不得，这个人依我看，为人倒很好！不像个横蛮丫头！”

我的结论既似真非真，倒引起了冬生的注意。他于是也似真非真的向我说：“你欢喜她，我见她一定告她。她做得一手好针线活，会给你做个绣花抱肚，里面还装满亲口嗑的南瓜子仁。可惜你又早不说，师爷也能帮你忙！”

“早不说吗？我一来就只见过她一面。来到这村子里只一个晚上，第二早天刚亮，她就跟人跑了！我哪里把灯笼火把去找她。”

“那你又怎么不追下去？萧何追韩信，下河码头熟，你追去好了！”

“我原本只是到这里来和你大队长打猎，追麂子狐狸兔子，想不到还有这么一种山里长大的标致东西！”

这一切自然都是笑话，已决五十岁的师爷，听到我说的笑话，比不到十五岁的冬生听来的意义，一定深刻得多。原本不开口，因此也搭话说：“凡事要慢慢的学，才会懂。我们这地方，草草木木都要慢慢的才认识，性质通通不同的！断肠草有毒，牛也不吃它。火麻草螫手，你一不小心就遭殃。”

冬生走后约一点钟，杨大娘却两脚黄泥到了团防局。师爷和我正在一窠新孵出的小鸡边，点数那二十个小小活动黑白毛毛团。一见杨大娘那两脚黄泥，和提篮中的东西，就知道是从场上回来的。“大娘，可是到新场办年货？你冬生出差去了，今天歇红岩口，明天才能回来。可有什么事情？”

杨大娘摸一摸提篮中那封点心。“没有什么事。”

“你那笋壳鸡上了孵没有？”

“我那笋壳鸡上城做客去了。”杨大娘点一点搁在膝头上的提篮中物，计大雪枣一斤，刀头肉一斤，元青鞋面布一双，香烛纸张全份，还加上一封百子头炮仗，一一点数给师爷看。

问一问，才知道原来当天是冬生满十五岁的生日，杨大娘早就弯指头把日子记在心上，恰值鸦拉营逢场，犹自嘀咕了好几个日子，方下狠心，把那预备上孵的二十四个大白鸡蛋从箩筐中一一取出，谨慎小心的放入垫有糠壳的提篮里，捉好那只笋壳色母鸡，套上草鞋，赶到场上去，和城里人打交道。虽下决心那么作，走到相去五里的场上，倒像原不过只是去玩玩，看看热闹，并不需要发生别的事情。因为鸡在任何农村都近于那人家属之一员，顽皮处和驯善处，对于生活孤立的老妇人，更不免寄托了一点儿热爱，作为使生活稍有变化的可怜简单的梦。所以到得人马杂沓黄泥四溅的场坪中转来转去等待主顾时，杨大娘自己即老以为这不会是件真事情。有人问价时，就故意讨个高过市价一倍的数目，且作成“你有钱我有货，你不买我不卖”的对立神气，并不希望脱手。因为要价过高，城里来的老鸡贩，稍微揣揣那母鸡背脊，不还价，就走开了。这一来，杨大娘必作成对于购买者有眼不甚识货的轻蔑神气，扁扁嘴，掉过头去不作理会。凡是鸡贩子都懂得乡下妇人的心理，从卖鸡人的穿着上即可明白，以为明白时间早，不忙收货，见要价特别高的，想故意气一气她，就还个起码数目。且激激她说：“什么八宝精，值那样多！”杨大娘于是也提着气，学作厉害十分样子：“你还的价钱只能买豆腐吃。买你的豆腐去吧。”且像那个还价数目不仅侮辱了本人，还侮辱了身边那只体面肥母鸡，怪不过意，因此掉转身，抚抚鸡毛，拍拍鸡头，好像向鸡声明：“不必忙，再过一刻钟我们就回家去。我本来就只是玩玩的，哪舍得你！”那只母鸡也像完全明白自己身份和杨大娘的情绪，闭了闭小红眼睛，只轻轻的在喉间“咕咕”哼两声，且若完全同意杨大娘的打算。两者之间又似乎都觉得“那不算什么，等等我们就回去，我真乐意回去，凡事一切照旧”。

到还价已够普通标准时，有认得她的熟人，乐于圆成其事，必在旁插嘴：“添一点儿，就卖了。这鸡是吃绿豆包谷长大的，油水多！”待主顾掉头时，又轻轻的知会杨大娘：“大娘要卖也放得手了。这回城里贩子来得多，也出得起价。若到城里去，还卖不到这个数目！”因为那句“要卖得趁早放手”，和杨大娘心情基本冲突，所以回答那个好意却是：

“你卖我不卖，我又不等钱用。”

或者什么人说：“不等钱用你来作什么？没得事作来看水鸭子打架，胜败作个公证人？肩膊发松，怎不扛扇石磨来？”

杨大娘看看，搜寻不出谁那么油嘴滑舌，不便发作，只轻轻的骂着：“背时不走运的，你妈你婆才扛石磨上场玩，逗人开心长见识！”

事情相去十五六年，石磨的用处早成典故，本乡人知道的已不多了。

……哪有不等钱用这么十冬腊月抱鸡来场上喝风的人？事倒凑巧，因为办年货城里送礼需要多，临到末了，杨大娘竟意外胜利，只把母鸡出脱，卖的钱比自己所悬想的还多些。钱货两清后，杨大娘转入各杂货棚边去，从鸡、鸭、羊、兔、小猫、小狗，和各种叫嚷、赌咒、争持交易方式中，换回了提篮所有。末了且像自嘲自诅，还买了四块豆腐，心中混合了一点儿平时没有的怅惘、疲劳、喜悦和朦胧期待，从场上赶回村子里去。在回家路上，看到有村子里人有用葛藤缚住小猪的颈脖赶着小畜生上路的，也看到有人用竹箩背负这些小猪上路的，使她想起冬生的问题。冬生二十岁结婚一定得用四只猪，这是五年后事情。眼前她要到团防局去找冬生，只是给他个大雪枣吃，量一量脚看鞋面布够不够，并告冬生一同回家去吃饭，吃饭前点香烛向祖宗磕磕头。冬生的爹死去整十年了。

杨大娘随时都只想向人说：“杨家的香火，十五岁。你们以为孵一窝鸡，好容易事！他爹去时留下一把镰刀，一副连枷……你不明白我好命苦！”到此眼睛一定红红的，心酸酸的。可能有人会劝慰说：“好了，现在好了，杨大娘，八十一难磨过，你苦出头了！冬生有出息，队长答应送他上学堂。回来也会做队长！一子双祧讨两房媳妇，鸦拉营王保长闺女八铺八盖陪嫁，装烟倒茶都有人，享福在后头，你还愁个什么？……”

事实上杨大娘其时却笑笑的站在师爷的鸡窝边，看了一会儿小鸡。可能还关心到卖去的那只鸡和二十四个鸡蛋的命运，因此用微笑覆盖着，不让那个情绪给城里人发现。天气看看已晚下来了。正值融雪，今天赶场人太多，田坎小路已踏得个稀糊子烂，怪不好走。药王宫和村子相对，隔了个半里宽田坝，还有两道灌满融雪水活活流注的小溪，溪上是个独木桥。大娘心想：“冬生今天已回不了局里，回不了家。”似乎对于提篮中那包大雪枣“是不是应当放在局里交给师爷”这个问题迟疑了一会儿，末后还是下了决心，提起篮子走了。我们站在庙门前石栏杆边，看这个肩背已佝偻的老妇人，一道一道田坎走去。还不忘记嘱告我：“路太滑，会滚到水里面去。那边长工会给你送饭来的！”

时间大约五点半，村子中各个人家炊烟已高举，先是一条一条孤独直上，各不相乱。随后却于一种极离奇情况下，被寒气一压，一齐崩坍下来，展宽成一片一片的乳白色湿雾。再过不多久，这个湿雾便把村子包围了，占领了。杨大娘如何作她那一顿晚饭，是不易形容的。灶房中冷清了好些，因为再不会有一只鸡跳上砧板争啄菠菜了。到时还会抓一把米头去喂鸡，始明白鸡已卖去。一定更不会料想到，就在这一天，这个时候，离开村子十五里的红岩口，冬生和那两个烟贩，已被人一起掳去。

我那天晚上，却正和团防局师爷在一盏菜油灯下大谈《聊斋志异》，以为那一切都是古代传奇，不会在人间发生，所以从不怕僵尸不怕精怪。师爷喝了一杯酒话多了点儿，明白我对青凤黄英的向往，也明白我另外一种弱点，便把巧秀母亲故事源源本本告给我。且为我出主张，不要再读书。并以为住在任何高楼上，固定不动窝，都不如坐在一只简单小小“水上漂”上，更容易有机会和那些使二十岁小伙子心驰神往的奇迹碰头！他的本意只是要我各处走走，不必把生活长远固定到一个小地方，或一件小小问题得失上，见闻一开阔，人也就大派多了。不意竟招邀我回忆上了另外那一只他曾坐过久已不存在的小船。

我仿佛看到那只向长潭中桨去的小船，仿佛即稳坐在那只小船一头，仿佛有人下了水，随后船已掉了头。……水天平静，什么都完事了。一切东西都不怎么坚牢，只有一样东西能真实的永远存在，即从那个对生命充满了热爱，却被社会带走了爱的二十三岁小寡妇一双明亮、温柔、饶恕了一切的眼睛中看出去，所看到的那一片温柔沉静的黄昏暮色，以及在暮色倏忽中，两个船桨搅碎的水中的云影星光。巧秀已经逃走半个月，巧秀的妈颈悬石磨沉在溪口长潭中已十五年。

一切事情还并没有完结，只是一个起始。

一九四七年七月末北平

Qiaoxiu and Dongsheng

The snow was melting. Melted snow filled the ditches round the fields with little brooks which now merged to race off happily,as if drawn to the distant sea. The songs of wild birds, from bamboos by the brooks where some snow still lay, had stolen a march on the plants below in intimating the approach of spring,and this made a more direct appeal to me. Best of all were those glossy grey turtle-doves with handsome ruffs round their necks,who nested in the bamboos behind my window. Their melodies,more and more complex, more and more fabulous, seemed to form a dialogue for me to hear in place of a dialogue between me and Qiaoxiu:

“Qiaoxiu, Qiaoxiu, do you really mean to leave? You mustn’t!”

“Are you calling me, brother? You never noticed me, so how can you blame me?”

It was only while still lost in dreams that I heard this ridiculous dialogue. Inevitably I woke up in very low spirits. Now that I felt clear-headed it still rang in my ears rather mockingly.I could no longer stay in this big manor-house. So, on the pretext of liking to be on my own, I moved outside the village to a small storeyed lodge in a side court of the Temple of the God of Medicine. And this choice suited me down to the ground. Because the temple stood completely alone, separated from the village by a large field. It was as if to live on my own was all I wanted or needed as an eighteen-year-old guest here.

In my time I have visited many strange parts, crossed many bridges of different kinds, taken boats of many different kinds,and slept on beds of many different kinds. But never before sleeping on that big carved hardwood bed that night two weeks ago in the Man manor-house had I had the fantastic sensation of floating on birdsong in the hills far and near, on the water bubbling in the kettle in the room. After moving into the upper floor of this small lodge and lying on a harder plank bed, the songs of even more wild birds near and far filled my empty heart with a feeling more unfathomable and inexplicable.

The courtyard, a sizeable one, was half hidden by luxuriant bamboos, leaving only a dark flagstone path on which I could stroll alone. Among the bamboos I discovered arhat and palm bamboos which made good canes, purple and white bamboos which made good flutes, and snake-tail bamboos which made good fishing rods. These different varieties rustled in the breeze like cascading splinters of jade, wafting over a coldness unlike that of snow. Even more secluded was the roof ridge of that little lodge. As it stood on a height it commanded a distant view, and at almost any hour of the day or night nameless birds would sing above it. Some warbled away about the joy of life, lost in spontaneous enjoyment of their own music. Some sounded distressed, as if anxiously calling their mates and voicing their longing for love. The glossy grey turtle-doves were the most familiar visitors to my roof, and having fled here I had more chances to draw closer to them. Their repeated cooing, low and slightly sad, always seemed to remind me of something I ought to forget but never could—Qiaoxiu’s leaving. When I had first come to this village covered with snow to attend my friend’s wedding feast, the mistress of the house had lit a torch to escort me to a side courtyard to rest; and following the old lady to carry the bedding to my room that seventeen-year-old village girl Qiaoxiu,biting her lower lip, had made my bed in silence. I wanted to compare her eyebrows with those of the bride, to see whether the old wives’ tale was true or not. And I had dreamed an eighteen year-old’s foolish dream about her luxuriant plait of hair and well-developed figure. Unexpectedly, though, at breakfast the next morning I heard she had run away with a villager who played the suona, taking a small bundle with her. It seemed as if in that little bundle of hers she had inadvertently carried away the little that I had, my heart or a dream.

Half a month had passed since Qiaoxiu’s flight, and there was still no word of her return. In fancy I followed this village girl with the black plait, bright eyes and high breasts, trying to imagine how the two of them lived and what the outcome must be. Inevitably this made me feel even more lost. Because what had inadvertently been carried away could never be retrieved, and even the girl herself with such warmth in her limpid, innocent eyes, such vitality in her silence, was far away now, corrupted by a new kind of life. Lost beyond time she had vanished without a trace. By Changde’s West Gate, in Chenzhou’s You Family Lane and on all the boats moored by the wharves large and small of the River Yuan, there were usually tens of thousands of young whores with broad faces and fine arched eyebrows. They sat sunning themselves in front of the cabin or in the stern, singing Longing for a Lover to pass the time, and sewing shoe-soles or embroidering pouches to link them with the passing boatmen who had been good to them. Not specially good-looking, each had a heart for ever glowing with youth. But ardent as they were,in the end they could not wrench free from the trammels of life.So the final outcome was a tragedy. Torn between gratitude and resentment and being narrow-minded, every day one heard of some who had drowned or hung themselves. If you looked into the background of these women, most of them were much like Qiaoxiu. As they grew to womanhood, some infatuation or passion made them break the village rules and run away, with no thought of the consequences. It is said, “Water must flow on till it reaches the Yellow River.” But few of these fountains rising in the hills flowed as far as Dongting Lake. They stagnated by some small town, or passed their lives by some wharf. Unable to go either forward or back, this is how they ended up.

The Temple of the God of Medicine where I lived was where the village’s top-level meetings were held. It housed the village primary school and the office of the Security Bureau. As this was during the New Year holiday, the school-masters and children had gone home. There were normally only two kinds of meetings: active ones in spring and autumn, financed by leading figures, when puppet troupes were hired to thank the gods for granting men their wishes. And passive ones attended by the local gentry and the villagers to discuss how to deal with the official business allotted by the county government. As keeping order did not present much problem, the Security Bureau had little to do.Apart from my friend Captain Man who was also in charge of it,there were only two full-time staff members. One was an elderly secretary who wore big spectacles to read Yuan Mei’s Cookery Book, and used a small green fountain-pen to write his official reports. The other was a simple-minded office boy of fourteen.Although the local self-defence forces here have over thirty guns of different types, these are usually scattered in the homes of families of substance in the village, in case of emergency, but they are seldom needed. In other words, this district is normally very quiet. Because local security gives no cause for concern, the peace of the countryside appears on the surface to have been well preserved.

During the fortnight after I moved into the Temple of the God of Medicine, I went to several fairs with the captain, bought some tiger and leopard skins, chose some game cocks, and went up the back hill several times to hunt hares. A group of hunters and a pack of hounds milled round and round together between the boulders in the slippery gully, where the snow was beginning to melt in spring, until we were tired out and covered with sweat.Apart from this, I spent most of my time in the bureau watching the old secretary and the office boy play chess. One was already forty-six or forty-seven, the other not yet fifteen, but neither was a good player, although each took the game very seriously.In the bureau there were also lithograph copies of half of Tales of Liaozhai. The surroundings and atmosphere here were truly appropriate for reading these! But a newer discovery was that,through a brood of chicks just hatched in one corner of the bureau’s living room and the use of the bundles of nameless herbal medicine at the head of the bed, I was soon on good terms with the secretary in spite of the discrepancy in our ages,and in another way I also became a close friend of the office boy. After reading Tales of Liaozhai for a few days, I expected Qingfeng and Huangying to put in a sudden appearance, their arrival heralded by the soft patter of footsteps on the stairs. In fact, though birds and rats made plenty of soft pattering, the two girls never appeared. This waiting in suspense was a mixture of dread and delight, most enjoyable, naturally, for an eighteen year-old. But having made these two friends in the bureau, I felt I had really good reason to toss aside those few dog-eared little books, because if I cared to I could browse as I pleased in certain chapters of that other big book, all teeming with enchanting vitality.

Qiaoxiu’s mother came from Xikou. Widowed at twenty three, she had stayed on her seven mu of hilly land with her little girl, not yet two. Young and not content to carry on like this, she had a secret affair with a tiger-hunter from Huangluozhai. When her husband’s clan learned of this, they plotted to get her few poor fields and seized both the adulteress and her lover. Like a swarm of hornets they dragged them to the ancestral temple to stand trial.They only meant to give them a good scare and beat them up, to derive a strange satisfaction from their suffering, then marry the woman off far away. For appearances’ sake they would spend a little of the money this brought them on paper coins to burn for the dead, sharing out the rest among those who had handled the business, according to the trouble taken by each. This had always been the rule here, and if the rules were observed no one else would raise any objection. However, it so happened that the clan head bore Qiaoxiu’s mother a grudge, because before her marriage he had proposed that she should marry his son, and since the young man was a cripple she had refused. Later because of this,the clan head made indecent advances to her, and the spirited young widow cursed him as a shameless old lecher. So she had a handle against him, and might at any time make this public. Now that she had disgraced herself, he determined to settle old scores.He insisted that the gallant tiger-hunter from Huangluozhai should have both his feet smashed—in front of the young widow. The hunter gritted his teeth and stood this punishment without a murmur, his eyes fixed on her. When this rough justice had been done, two elderly men made ready to carry him back twenty li to Huangluozhai. As he had been caught red-handed, his fellow villagers could not protest. But the young widow, in front of the whole clan, demanded to go with him. She would give up her land and daughter, but go she must. This really made the clan lose face completely. Especially the vicious clan head, with his mixed motives and fear of trouble in future. To make a clean sweep, he proposed that this shameless wanton should be drowned according to the old rules, to stop the Huangluozhai villagers from talking.As he was a scholar with a small official title, had read a few of the Confucian classics and had senior status and considerable power, he was as a rule a domineering diehard. So the younger members of the clan, even when not convinced by him, were rather afraid of him. Now, on the pretext of upholding the clan’s honour, he made this stimulating proposal, adding that once this business had been settled they could discuss the question of Qiaoxiu’s adoption. A crowd is easily worked up. The whole clan naturally agreed without much deliberation, and ignorant young busybodies at once fetched ropes and a millstone, raring to go into action. In this confusion the men’s sense of morality was inextricably mixed with sadism. As for the women and girls, they stood some distance away, frightened, upset and helpless. Apart from murmuring “Heaven!” they could make no other protest.Some young men stripped the young widow naked outside the ancestral temple, then tied her hands, put a small millstone on her back and fastened it firmly round her neck with creepers. All crowded round her, shamelessly feasting their eyes on her fresh,lustrous young flesh, while swearing viciously at her shamelessness. Yet she put up with this in silence, her liquid eyes searching the crowd for her old enemy—the clan head. But he,afraid of exposure, had made a show of rage when she was stripped naked, had savagely eyed her from head to foot several times, swearing, “Low, disgusting creature!” then pretending that he had business and could not stand the sight of her, he went to skulk in the ancestral temple. There he and some other clan elders discussed how to report this to the county government. They agreed to get everyone to put their mark on the document, to shift the responsibility to the whole clan and so avoid trouble in future.Also, to reassure those timid old men who were in two minds, and to avoid any hitch, he quoted passages from the classics on man’s duty to root out evil. In the afternoon the busybodies in the clan,together with the clan head, hustled the young widow to Xikou and made her board a small boat. They rowed in silence upstream to Long Lake. Her head still lowered in silence, she watched the flowing river and the reflections of clouds and stars in the water stirred up by the oars. Perhaps she was thinking of her next reincarnation, of how she had rejected the clan head’s advances,or of small favours or bad turns she had done other people.Perhaps she was thinking of the past and present of the tiger hunter, or how he would manage in future. Would one-year-old Qiaoxiu be strangled tomorrow? Just before they set out for the river, an old kinswoman had carried over the child, who had no idea of what was happening, wanting to get the young widow to suckle her. But the clan head seeing this had bellowed, “What the devil, old fox! Clear off!” He had kicked her away. Strange to say,that woman had appeared as calm as ever, not looking angry,afraid or specially anxious. As for the clan head, he was now sitting in the stern, as if unwilling to look directly at the young widow. In fact his mind whirled with very complex emotions. To clear his conscience he kept muttering that this was only right and necessary to save face for the whole clan. As clan head and a man who had studied the Confucian classics, he was in duty bound to uphold morality. Of course he had no aversion to the fresh,lustrous flesh of a healthy young woman; what he was averse to was letting an outsider enjoy this flesh—“Rich water must be kept for one’s own field”. The blazing jealousy in his heart strengthened his moral sense and frenzied sadism. He urged the boatmen on. As for the rest of the clan, they might only have been wondering to whom those few mu of land would go. All of them showed some uneasiness. For now that the first stirring of desire had died down, they felt slightly worsted by the young widow’s composure. When the little boat reached the deepest part of the lake, the rowers shipped their oars. The boat drifted first left then right. All knew what was coming. One of the older men said,“Qiaoxiu’s ma, Qiaoxiu’s ma, you must know who’s to blame. So go quietly. Is there anything you want us to do? Just say.” The young widow looked at this man who wanted to comfort her. After a pause she said softly, “Third Cousin, do a good deed! Don’t let them strangle my Qiaoxiu! She will be going to some other family. When she grows up, don’t hold this against her, that’s all I ask!” Utter silence. In the lovely twilight air everything was still.At first no one would make a move. Then the old clan head put on a show of boldness, though inwardly fearful and irresolute.Striding up to the young widow, without any warning he shoved her into the water. Then losing his balance he flopped down on the other side of the boat, setting it rocking. At first, inevitably,she struggled feebly in the water; but because of the heavy millstone tied to her back she sank swirling to the bottom.Bubbles surfaced. Then everything calmed down. The current gradually carried the boat away, the young men on board still staring fixedly at the river in silence. Because death had carried away her personal shame, her gratitude and resentment, it seemed to have left each of the rest an invisible gift. Though she did not want her daughter to bear a grudge when she grew up, none of those involved could ever forget their own stupidity. So having solemnly carried out this momentous task, these men turned their boat back. The dead woman had died for her sins, and the significance of “death” had added to the burden of the living.They must hurry back to kowtow in the ancestral temple, let off firecrackers and hang up red streamers to clear the air of evil.This would also show that their “bold”, “decisive” yet “truly stupid” action had restored the clan’s spoiled reputation. In fact,all this was done to rid themselves of the slight, nebulous self reproach which might grow in the stillness to contaminate their souls and consciences. Because of this, four years later that clan head went mad and killed himself in the ancestral temple. But because of the young widow’s last request, Qiaoxiu’s life was spared, and she was sent thirty li away to the Man manor-house at Gaoxian.

When Qiaoxiu grew older, her uncle, the secretary in the Security Bureau who had witnessed this scene and brought the child up, had the idea of offering her to Captain Man as his concubine, so that she would have a protector. But the experienced old matriarch, who had painful memories of her own,always believed in looking further ahead. Qiaoxiu had no idea of what was past and done with; she was simply unwilling. And as she was still young the matter was shelved.

As Qiaoxiu often went to the Security Bureau to sew or mend for her uncle, she got to know Dongsheng well. His mother, poor Mother Yang, an honest, kindly old woman, kept praising Qiaoxiu to the secretary. Dongsheng would always butt in to remind her,“I’m not fifteen yet, mother.” “You’ll be fifteen this year, sixteen next, a man in no time!” Outsiders might not understand these little tiffs, but the secretary knew that though mother and son disagreed, both were fond of Qiaoxiu and very concerned for her.

Qiaoxiu’s flight, like my arrival in the village, made little impression there. The way of life determined by history went on just as before, and the daily round to which they were accustomed.

All the villagers called Dongsheng’s mother Mother Yang.Her husband had died ten years earlier, leaving her only a tiny house and a small vegetable plot. Although so poor she was honest and kind, not grasping or on the make like so many old people.She had faith in the gods and in her fellow creatures, believing that many of this world’s affairs should be entrusted to the gods,to save trouble and simplify matters. But if there were problems the gods could not handle, it was up to people to do their best to solve them. Provided they worked honestly they could think up a solution however difficult the problem was. If it didn’t work out,they could leave things again to the gods. Like other villagers living close to the soil, she did all that was humanly possible yet believed in the mandate of Heaven. She seemed in every respect a foolish and ignorant woman, and was something of a fatalist at the same time, believing in what scholars call the “Way”. Brought up by such a herded buffaloes, cut grass, picked mushrooms and lived like the other village boys, growing strong and sturdy, bright and intelligent. After just one year in primary school he could write regular script in small characters, and from the secretary in the bureau he learned some of the formulas of official documents.An office boy’s pay was low, but he did not have to worry about clothes, board or lodgings. In addition, every month he received a crate of grain and a small stipend. This grain, which he took home, made Mother Yang’s life much easier. The two hundred and fifty households in the village all supplied unpaid volunteers to the militia. No more than four or five men were salaried civil servants: apart from the captain and the secretary, there were only two primary-school teachers paid a mere pittance. So Dongsheng’s position was envied by the other village youngsters.Apart from its emoluments his job had another advantage:exemption from military service, and relative immunity from the impositions constantly exacted by the military and the county government in town. Anyone brought up in a village like this knows how regularly, every season, these impositions come down from above—more than anyone can stand. There is no escaping them unless you are a government employee. For instance, when the captain in charge of all village affairs sent a man with a gong to summon the village elders to a meeting in the temple, he stated that official business should be conducted according to official principles, with the richest families making the first contributions,and his contribution would be more than all the others’, since his earnings from his mill, oil-press, distillery and grocer’s shop were more than anyone else’s, though he complained with a worried frown that his turnover was so slow that he sometimes had to borrow money and pay interest. However, the villagers noticed that each time he came back from town he always bought some modern new gadget, or was wearing a new felt hat, or sporting a foreign fountain-pen. If there were official documents to be signed, most villagers still drew a cross on them with one finger,a few used seals, but the captain would produce that glossy round treasure from his tunic suit’s pocket to write his signature. This was staggering enough. And the price when ascertained was even more shocking—higher than the price of an ox! Who wouldn’t love to be a “poor man” like that!

Half a dozen times a year, Dongsheng had to follow the captain’s white mule to the county town and back; hence he had a richer experience, a wider knowledge than most other villagers.This, combined with the good character of mother and son, won them a special status. That this was generally recognized was evident from the fact that some small landlords with daughters of twelve or thirteen were eager to have him as a son-in-law living in their home. They thought such an able young fellow would help build up the family’s fortune.

The village was forty-five li from the county town, three li from the public highway. As it had no strategic importance,no troops were stationed here. Because it had two good springs which never dried up, their paddy field had plenty of water all winter. And this field was surrounded by hills, their slopes covered with tung trees, tea plants, bamboos and varnish trees.The village had a good rule: felling trees at random and stealing or squabbling over water were forbidden. Because conditions here had long been settled, the atmosphere was naturally unlike that in ordinary impoverished villages and everything was done according to rules. Because of these time-honoured traditions,some families were better off than others and had long been running the village. For this reason other families had been forced for generations to remain subordinate, as tenants or hired hands who changed masters from time to time. This was a clear contrast.Yet the difference between the life style of both groups was not too great. Both lived close to the soil and worked with their hands; no one was completely idle. Then, following the changes in the country, these contrasting life styles produced a type of loafer. Their development generally conformed to a pattern,starting when they were small. As naughty boys, always eager to break the local rules, they cut down other people’s bamboos to make fishing rods, picked their pomelos to quench their own thirst, let the water out of other people’s paddy fields to catch fish on the sly, or filched the game in the traps other people had set. Having discovered as boys how easy it was to “reap without sowing”, after growing up they naturally let slip no chance to take advantage of others. As they grew more romantic, of course they changed from peasants into “playboys”. Since society was still stable and they had no way to display their heroism or to advance themselves, they would set up a small shop in the village street, often with card tables, or go in for usury. With their wide connections they knew everything that went on in the village,knew who had power, who had no property, and would fleece rich,childless widows. They had no fixed trade, nor did they work on the land, but would go to fairs in the surrounding countryside to gamble. They had four or five sworn brothers in every village for forty li around, who would treat them to food and drinks, and they helped each other out of difficulties. They might butt in during the sale of a pig or buffalo, then claim a commission when the deal went through, to make a bit on the side. If operas were put on in any village, they invariably went to join in the fun. If they knew the manager of a troupe, they were invited to a meal with eight big dishes at the start and end of the run, when actors called out the names of the guests, who had to give tips wrapped up in red paper. If a new young actor playing the part of a girl wanted to make a name, he must rely on them and get on good terms with them, or else he might be pelted with stones or booed. If there was trouble and they offended some local magnate, or if anyone humiliated them so that they had to lie low somewhere else, they would run away, a small bundle under one arm. Most of them joined the army, after which naturally they vanished, usually ending up sooner or later as cannon fodder. But what could a girl do? Her case was rather different. New developments and changes had less effect on young girls than on those reaching womanhood.These, if they could not shake off the traditions which weighed them down, might go out of their minds or commit suicide. If they broke through all tangible and intangible restrictions to act independently, they were bound to elope with someone. The inevitable outcome was still a tragic end.

However, since society had been changing during the last twenty years, with the country torn apart by self-destructive civil wars, this had completely disrupted the old village society.The effect on this small place was also naturally marked. Once these adventurers in the village came into contact with certain social realities, this village of less than three hundred households acquired an extra thirty to fifty guns of different kinds, a dozen or so company and platoon leaders, as well as two or three higher ranking and more complex officers, demobilized but serving in the militia. Most of these belonged to a completely new class,akin to parasites who no longer made a living by manual labour.Those with property might become small local despots, those with no roots might become vagrants or bandits; but both groups tended increasingly to cut themselves off from the people, the soil and productive labour, after learning new worldly wisdom and ruthlessness. Especially those who had learned to handle weapons but lacked the ambition, chance and funds to engage in great enterprises. Naturally all they could do on their return home was to start a small business not needing much capital. But this new style of life made realists of them. Their outlook, although never analysed or described, was in fact adopted by the great majority of those who knew how to make the most of their environment.So they took to kidnapping people or growing opium, always on the pretext that they had “no choice”. And the decadence arising from this was bound to lead to a further deterioration in this sad situation. However, in such villages at that time, the propertied families evolved different means of self-defence, and became more adept at safeguarding their wealth. They sent their sons and nephews to military schools, and raised money to buy guns to protect their estates—actually to safeguard their special rights as well. Of course the two different groups clashed, and the bloody feuds which kept breaking out influenced later generations.Particularly in the case of small villages which had conflicting interests. In the countryside, in those twenty years of disruption,just as in society as a whole, if issues were diametrically opposed but ways to settle them could be found, then under certain conditions an equilibrium could be reached for a while. One man might guard his land, his big manor-house, oil-press and distillery, while another took to the hills as a bandit; yet both called each other “kinsman” to lessen their antagonism and friction, each going his own way to satisfy his needs. This may appear fantastic but was very common, as the development of the contradictions existing throughout the country was exactly the same as in this locality. Most of the schemes for national reconstruction neglected to analyse this actual process, and therefore ended tragically in fighting. In this remote little village near the border of Guizhou and Hunan, although the local authorities strictly prohibited traffic in opium, they also profited by taxing it. Under such circumstances, the opposition between the local privileged groups often disappeared, because the profits were equally divided. Those who were not officials were in a good position to smuggle opium, and the government trade in salt maintained this balanced opposition. Opposition was a fact, yet the weapons of both sides seemed to have been kept out of sight. At all events,those leaving home on business found it safer to travel empty handed than with weapons. Passing a barrier or fort, it was safer and less troublesome to carry a visiting card than a gun.

Dongsheng’s work in the bureau involved going out on business, either to guide and guard the opium traders carrying their loads of opium, or to escort salt merchants. As he did not have to cross the boundary, his task was extremely simple. By about three o’clock in the afternoon he had usually escorted two traders with their special wares along byways to the boundary. One day before setting out he told me about Qiaoxiu. He covered his feet with his coir cape as he asked me to fix the backs and the strings of his straw sandals.

I said to him teasingly, “Dongsheng, when Qiaoxiu ran off that morning, why didn’t the captain send you to fetch her back?”

“A girl isn’t a stream you can stop by closing a lock. She’s human. There was nothing her uncle or I could do. It would have been no use running after her.”

“Just because she’s human, how can she forget how good the captain and old lady were to her for over ten years? How could she bear to leave the secretary, the mill and the fishermen’s dike upstream, when she was so fond of them? I can see you miss her!”

“The mill doesn’t belong to her. Coming from town you like it, but we don’t. Qiaoxiu’s grown up so she eloped. Hate and love get paid back in kind. This score will be settled later.”

“Do you think she’ll decide to come back?”

“Come back? No good horse turns back to browse, the river never flows backwards.”

“My guess is she’s settled down on some wharf; she can’t have flown off to the end of the earth. I’m sure you could fetch her back if you wanted to.”

“Nobody wants a cracked pot!”

“No? If you don’t want her, I do. She made a really good impression on me, not like a wild girl.”

This half-serious conclusion of mine attracted Dongsheng’s attention. So he told me half seriously, “If you like her, when I see her I’ll certainly tell her. She’s a good needlewoman and can embroider you a jacket filled with pumpkin seeds she’s cracked herself. What a pity you didn’t speak up earlier. The secretary could have helped you.”

“Speak up earlier? I only saw her that once. I’d spent only one night in the village, and she eloped at the crack of dawn the next morning! I couldn’t go out searching for her with a lantern.”

“Well, why didn’t you go after her earlier? You know the wharves downstream. Go ahead and hunt for her!”

“I came here simply to hunt tigers, foxes and hares with your captain, little thinking to come across such a handsome creature brought up in your hills!”

Naturally I was joking. The secretary nearing fifty must have caught my meaning much better than Dongsheng, not yet fifteen.So now he broke his silence to put in, “It takes time to understand anything. Takes time to recognize all the plants here, each so different! Heart-break grass is poisonous; the cattle won’t eat it.Nettles sting; you have to watch out.”

An hour after Dongsheng left, Mother Yang came with muddy feet to the bureau. The secretary and I, by a newly hatched brood of chicks like fluffy black and white balls, were counting the twenty lively little creatures. When we saw her muddy feet and the basket in her hand, we knew she was back from the fair.“Been doing your New Year shopping, mother?” we asked. “Your Dongsheng has gone out on business. He’ll spend the night at Red Crag and be back tomorrow. Do you want him for anything?”

“Not really.” Mother Yang laid a hand on the package of cakes in her basket.

“Has that hen of yours hatched her eggs yet?”

“That hen of mine has gone on a visit to town.” Mother Yang counted the purchases in the basket on her knees: a catty of big dates, a catty of pork, a pair of black cloth shoe-uppers, a whole set of joss-sticks, candles and paper money, and a long string of firecrackers. She showed them one by one to the secretary.

We learned that Dongsheng was fifteen that day. Reckoning on her fingers earlier, Mother Yang had made a mental note of the date, which happened to coincide with the Yala Camp fair. After mulling the matter over, she had hardened her heart and one by one taken out of the crate the two dozen eggs her big white hen was to have hatched. Having placed them carefully on a layer of grain in her basket, she caught the hen, put on straw sandals and went to the fair to sell them to the townsfolk. But although she had made up her mind to this, when she reached the fair five li away, she behaved as if she had just come to watch the fun, not on business. Because to any villager a hen is practically one of the family, and an old woman living all alone cannot help loving its mischievous ways and its tameness. This love is a simple, pitiful dream adding a spice of variety to life. So at the fair, where men and horses were spattering mud all around, as she wandered about she could hardly believe that she was waiting for a customer.When asked the price of her hen, she named a figure double the market price, looking reluctant to part with it, as if to say, “If you’re not willing to pay that price, I won’t sell.” Because she asked too much, the poultry dealers from town just felt her hen’s back, then left without bargaining. Then, of course, Mother Yang showed her contempt for their failure to recognize a fine hen when they saw one. Pursing her lips she turned her head away.The poultry dealers understood village women’s psychology, and could tell from the look of her that she thought it still early; so being in no hurry to buy, when she asked an exorbitant price they needled her by offering a rock-bottom figure. “What treasure is this to be worth so much!” they jeered. In a huff Mother Yang glowered at them. “The price you offered is just enough to buy beancurd. Go and buy yourself some beancurd!” She was as put out as if the offer was an insult both to her and to the fine fat hen beside her. So she turned to stroke its plumage and pat its head,as if to reassure it, “There’s no hurry. Presently we’ll go home.I only came here for the outing—how could I sell you!” And the hen seemed well aware of its own importance and Mother Yang’s feelings. It closed its small red eyes and simply clucked a couple of times, as if fully agreeing with her plan. Both appeared to feel,“Never mind, we’ll go home presently. I really want to go back, to carry on just as before.”

By the time a reasonable price was offered, someone who knew her and wanted to clinch the deal put in a word from the side. “Up that a bit, and she’ll sell. This is a fine fat hen fed on lentils and maize!” When the customer turned away, this friend whispered to Mother Yang, “If you want to get it off your hands,now’s the time. There are plenty of dealers from town here willing to pay that. You wouldn’t get such a good price in town!” Because the well-meant advice, “if you want to sell, look sharp” clashed with Mother Yang’s feeling, her answer was:

“You can sell, I shan’t. I’m not short of money.”

Someone else put in, “If you’re not short of money, what did you come here for? Because you’re at a loose end? Or to referee a duck fight? If you like carrying loads, why not cart a millstone along?”

Mother Yang could not spot this joker. Not wanting to make a scene she just swore softly, “Bastard! Your mother and mother-in law can cart millstones here and let folk have an eyeful!”

Since Qiaoxiu’s mother had been drowned fifteen or sixteen years ago, that use of a millstone was a thing of the past, and not many of the local people still knew of it.

… Would anyone not needing money lug a hen to the fair in winter, in the cold wind? But so many townsfolk were shopping for New Year presents that, luckily, in the end Mother Yang scored a triumph—the price her hen fetched surpassed even her own expectations. After the money and the hen had changed hands, she headed for the stalls selling hens, ducks, sheep, rabbits, kittens and puppies. Amid the hubbub of voices, the curses and the heated haggling, she had bought all the goods in her basket. Finally, as if pulling her own leg, she bought four pieces of beancurd. Then she started back to the village with strangely mixed feelings of loss,fatigue, pleasure and vague anticipation. On the way home, she saw villagers driving along little piglets with creepers tied round their necks, and others carrying piglets in bamboo crates on their backs. This reminded her of the question of Dongsheng. When he married at twenty, six years from now, they must have four piglets for his wedding feast. She would go to the Security Bureau now, just to give him a big date to eat and measure his feet to see if she’d bought enough material for his shoe-uppers; then she’d take him back with her for supper, and before the meal they would light incense and candles and kowtow to his ancestors. It was exactly ten years since his dad died.

Mother Yang liked to tell everyone, “The Yang family’s heir is fifteen. You think it’s easy to hatch a brood of chicks!His dad left us a sickle, a flail … You don’t know how hard my life’s been!” By then her eyes would be red, her heart heavy.Someone might say consolingly, “Never mind, you’re doing fine now, Mother Yang. Nine times nine trials, you’ve won through them all! Dongsheng is cut out for big things, and the captain has agreed to send him to study. When he comes back he can be a captain too! There’s double happiness for an only son—he’ll get himself two wives. The daughter of Warden Wang in Yala Camp has a dowry of eight mattresses and eight quilts; you’ll have servants to fill your pipe and pour you tea, and enjoy a happy old age. What have you to worry about?…”

In fact, just then Mother Yang was standing by the secretary’s hen coop, watching the chicks with a smile. She might still be worrying about the fate of the hen and twenty-four eggs she had sold, but she had covered up this concern with a smile, not wanting to disclose it to the townsfolk. It was growing late. The snow was melting, and such a crowd had gone to the fair today that sloshing along the rough muddy path had been hard. The Temple of the God of Medicine stood half a li from the village,separated by a field and two swift-flowing brooks filled with melted snow, each spanned by a single-plank bridge. She thought,“Dongsheng won’t get back to the bureau today, so he can’t come home.” She wondered whether she should leave her package of big dates for the secretary, but finally decided against it and picked up the basket to leave. We stood by the stone balustrade in front of the temple to watch the old woman, her back already bent, as she picked her way slowly across the field. And she remembered to tell us, “It’s slippery, mind you don’t fall into the brooks. The hired hand over there will bring you your meal.”

It was about half past five. Smoke was rising above each house in the village. First single streaks floated straight up, not tangling with each other. Then all plummeted down together in a most fantastic way under cold atmospheric pressure, and fanned out into patches of milky white mist. Soon the village was wrapped in this mist, occupied by it. It is hard to tell how Mother Yang prepared her supper that evening. Her kitchen would be cold and cheerless without the hen jumping on to her chopping block to peck at her spinach. When the time came to give it a handful of grain, it would dawn on her that the hen was already sold. She could never guess that at that very moment, in Red Crag fifteen li away, Dongsheng and the two opium dealers had been captured.

That evening under an oil lamp in the bureau, the secretary and I had a long talk about Tales of Liaozhai. Because he regarded them all as old legends about marvels which could never really happen, he was not afraid of corpses or spirits. A cup of wine had loosened his tongue and, knowing how fascinated I was by those spirits changing themselves into young girls, knowing another weakness of mine too, he told me the whole story of Qiaoxiu’s mother. He also advised me to stop reading books. In his opinion,to stay put in a nest on any top floor was not as good as drifting in a small boat, for then one had more chances of running into fascinating wonders which would make the heart of a youngster of twenty beat fast! He wanted me to travel, not to stay rooted for years in one small place, concerned only with the outcome of one small problem. I should broaden my outlook to become more broad-minded. He did not want me to keep thinking back to that little boat in which he had sat, which had long ago ceased to exist.

In fancy I saw myself sitting at one end of that little boat as it was rowed to Long Lake, saw the woman pitched overboard,after which the boat turned back…. Then everything calmed down,and that was the end of it all. Nothing is really enduring. The one thing that will last for ever is the tender peaceful twilight and the reflection of clouds and stars in the water stirred up by two oars seen by the bright, mild, all-forgiving eyes of the twenty-three year-old widow who so loved life, yet who was robbed of her love by society. Half a month had passed since Qiaoxiu’s flight, fifteen years since her mother sank, a millstone round her neck, into Long Lake.

But nothing had ended, this was only a start.

Beiping, July 1947

未经允许不得转载：帕布莉卡 » 沈从文《巧秀和冬生》中英双语 -《湘西散记：汉英对照》