在酒楼上 In the Wine Shop

在酒楼上
我从北地向东南旅行，绕道访了我的家乡，就到Ｓ城。这城离我的故乡不过三十里，坐了小船，小半天可到，我曾在这里的学校里当过一年的教员。深冬雪后，风景凄清，懒散和怀旧的心绪联结起来，我竟暂寓在S城的洛思旅馆里了；这旅馆是先前所没有的。城圈本不大，寻访了几个以为可以会见的旧同事，一个也不在，早不知散到那里去了，经过学校的门口，也改换了名称和模样，于我很生疏。不到两个时辰，我的意兴早已索然，颇悔此来为多事了。
我所住的旅馆是租房不卖饭的，饭菜必须另外叫来，但又无味，入口如嚼泥土。窗外只有渍痕班驳的墙壁，帖着枯死的莓苔；上面是铅色的天，白皑皑的绝无精采，而且微雪又飞舞起来了。我午餐本没有饱，又没有可以消遣的事情，便很自然的想到先前有一家很熟识的小酒楼，叫一石居的，算来离旅馆并不远。我于是立即锁了房门，出街向那酒楼去。其实也无非想姑且逃避客中的无聊，并不专为买醉。一石居是在的，狭小阴湿的店面和破旧的招牌都依旧；但从掌柜以至堂倌却已没有一个熟人，我在这一石居中也完全成了生客。然而我终于跨上那走熟的屋角的扶梯去了，由此径到小楼上。上面也依然是五张小板桌；独有原是木棂的后窗却换嵌了玻璃。
“一斤绍酒。——菜？十个油豆腐，辣酱要多！”
我一面说给跟我上来的堂棺听，一面向后窗走，就在靠窗的一张桌旁坐下了。楼上“空空如也”，任我拣得最好的坐位：可以眺望楼下的废园。这园大概是不属于酒家的，我先前也曾眺望过许多回，有时也在雪天里。但现在从惯于北方的眼睛看来，却很值得惊异了：几株老梅竟斗雪开着满树的繁花，仿佛毫不以深冬为意；倒塌的亭子边还有一株山茶树，从晴绿的密叶里显出十几朵红花来，赫赫的在雪中明得如火，愤怒而且傲慢，如蔑视游人的甘心于远行。我这时又忽地想到这里积雪的滋润，著物不去，晶莹有光，不比朔雪的粉一般干，大风一吹，便飞得满空如烟雾。……
“客人，酒。……”
堂棺懒懒的说着，放下杯，筷，酒壶和碗碟，酒到了。我转脸向了板桌，排好器具，斟出酒来。觉得北方固不是我的旧乡，但南来又只能算一个客子，无论那边的干雪怎样纷飞，这里的柔雪又怎样的依恋，于我都没有什么关系了。我略带些哀愁，然而很舒服的呷一口酒。酒味很纯正；油豆腐也煮得十分好；可惜辣酱太淡薄，本来Ｓ城人是不懂得吃辣的。
大概是因为正在下午的缘故罢，这会说是酒楼，却毫无酒楼气，我已经喝下三杯酒去了，而我以外还是四张空板桌。我看着废园，渐渐的感到孤独，但又不愿有别的酒客上来。偶然听得楼梯上脚步响，便不由的有些懊恼，待到看见是堂棺，才又安心了，这样的又喝了两杯酒。
我想，这回定是酒客了，因为听得那脚步声比堂倌的要缓得多。约略料他走完了楼梯的时候，我便害怕似的抬头去看这无干的同伴，同时也就吃惊的站起来。我竟不料在这里意外的遇见朋友了，——假如他现在还许我称他为朋友。那上来的分明是我的旧同窗，也是做教员时代的旧同事，面貌虽然颇有些改变，但一见也就认识，独有行动却变得格外迂缓，很不像当年敏捷精悍的吕纬甫了。
“阿，——纬甫，是你么？我万想不到会在这里遇见你。”
“阿阿，是你？我也万想不到……”
我就邀他同坐，但他似乎略略踌躇之后，方才坐下来。我起先很以为奇，接着便有些悲伤，而且不快了。细看他相貌，也还是乱蓬蓬的须发；苍白的长方脸，然而衰瘦了。精神跟沉静，或者却是颓唐，又浓又黑的眉毛底下的眼睛也失了精采，但当他缓缓的四顾的时候，却对废园忽地闪出我在学校时代常常看见的射人的光来。
“我们，”我高兴的，然而颇不自然的说，“我们这一别，怕有十年了罢。我早知道你在济南，可是实在懒得太难，终于没有写一封信。……”
“彼此都一样。可是现在我在太原了，已经两年多，和我的母亲。我回来接她的时候，知道你早搬走了，搬得很干净。”
“你在太原做什么呢？”我问。
“教书，在一个同乡的家里。”
“这以前呢？”
“这以前么？”他从衣袋里掏出一支烟卷来，点了火衔在嘴里，看着喷出的烟雾，沉思似的说：“无非做了些无聊的事情，等于什么也没有做。”
他也问我别后的景况；我一面告诉他一个大概，一面叫堂倌先取杯筷来，使他先喝着我的酒，然后再去添二斤。其间还点菜，我们先前原是毫不客气的，但此刻却推让起来了，终于说不清那一样是谁点的，就从堂倌的口头报告上指定了四样莱：茴香豆，冻肉，油豆腐，青鱼干。
“我一回来，就想到我可笑。”他一手擎着烟卷，一只手扶着酒杯，似笑非笑的向我说。“我在少年时，看见蜂子或蝇子停在一个地方，给什么来一吓，即刻飞去了，但是飞了一个小圈子，便又回来停在原地点，便以为这实在很可笑，也可怜。可不料现在我自己也飞回来了，不过绕了一点小圈子。又不料你也回来了。你不能飞得更远些么？”
“这难说，大约也不外乎绕点小圈子罢。”我也似笑非笑的说。“但是你为什么飞回来的呢？”
“也还是为了无聊的事。”他一口喝干了一杯酒，吸几口烟，眼睛略为张大了。“无聊的。——但是我们就谈谈罢。”
堂倌搬上新添的酒菜来，排满了一桌，楼上又添了烟气和油豆腐的热气，仿佛热闹起来了；楼外的雪也越加纷纷的下。
“你也许本来知道，”他接着说，“我曾经有一个小兄弟，是三岁上死掉的，就葬在这乡下。我连他的模样都记不清楚了，但听母亲说，是一个很可爱念的孩子，和我也很相投，至今她提起来还似乎要下泪。今年春天，一个堂兄就来了一封信，说他的坟边已经渐渐的浸了水，不久怕要陷入河里去了，须得赶紧去设法。母亲一知道就很着急，几乎几夜睡不着，——她又自己能看信的。然而我能有什么法子呢？没有钱，没有工夫：当时什么法也没有。
“一直挨到现在，趁着年假的闲空，我才得回南给他来迁葬。”他又喝干一杯酒，看说窗外，说，“这在那边那里能如此呢？积雪里会有花，雪地下会不冻。就在前天，我在城里买了一口小棺材，——因为我豫料那地下的应该早已朽烂了，——带着棉絮和被褥，雇了四个土工，下乡迁葬去。我当时忽而很高兴，愿意掘一回坟，愿意一见我那曾经和我很亲睦的小兄弟的骨殖：这些事我生平都没有经历过。到得坟地，果然，河水只是咬进来，离坟已不到二尺远。可怜的坟，两年没有培土，也平下去了。我站在雪中，决然的指着他对土工说，‘掘开来！’我实在是一个庸人，我这时觉得我的声音有些希奇，这命令也是一个在我一生中最为伟大的命令。但土工们却毫不骇怪，就动手掘下去了。待到掘着圹穴，我便过去看，果然，棺木已经快要烂尽了，只剩下一堆木丝和小木片。我的心颤动着，自去拔开这些，很小心的，要看一看我的小兄弟，然而出乎意外！被褥，衣服，骨骼，什么也没有。我想，这些都消尽了，向来听说最难烂的是头发，也许还有罢。我便伏下去，在该是枕头所在的泥土里仔仔细细的看，也没有。踪影全无！”
我忽而看见他眼圈微红了，但立即知道是有了酒意。他总不很吃菜，单是把酒不停的喝，早喝了一斤多，神情和举动都活泼起来，渐近于先前所见的吕纬甫了，我叫堂倌再添二斤酒，然后回转身，也拿着酒杯，正对面默默的听着。
“其实，这本已可以不必再迁，只要平了土，卖掉棺材；就此完事了的。我去卖棺材虽然有些离奇，但只要价钱极便宜，原铺子就许要，至少总可以捞回几文酒钱来。但我不这佯，我仍然铺好被褥，用棉花裹了些他先前身体所在的地方的泥土，包起来，装在新棺材里，运到我父亲埋着的坟地上，在他坟旁埋掉了。因为外面用砖墩，昨天又忙了我大半天：监工。但这样总算完结了一件事，足够去骗骗我的母亲，使她安心些。——阿阿，你这样的看我，你怪我何以和先前太不相同了么？是的，我也还记得我们同到城隍庙里去拔掉神像的胡子的时候，连日议论些改革中国的方法以至于打起来的时候。但我现在就是这样子，敷敷衍衍，模模胡胡。我有时自己也想到，倘若先前的朋友看见我，怕会不认我做朋友了。——然而我现在就是这样。”
他又掏出一支烟卷来，衔在嘴里，点了火。
“看你的神情，你似乎还有些期望我，——我现在自然麻木得多了，但是有些事也还看得出。这使我很感激，然而也使我很不安：怕我终于辜负了至今还对我怀着好意的老朋友。……”他忽而停住了，吸几口烟，才又慢慢的说，“正在今天，刚在我到这一石居来之前，也就做了一件无聊事，然而也是我自己愿意做的。我先前的东边的邻居叫长富，是一个船户。他有一个女儿叫阿顺，你那时到我家里来，也许见过的，但你一定没有留心，因为那时她还小。后来她也长得并不好看，不过是平常的瘦瘦的瓜子脸，黄脸皮；独有眼睛非常大，睫毛也很长，眼白又青得如夜的晴天，而且是北方的无风的晴天，这里的就没有那么明净了。她很能干，十多岁没了母亲，招呼两个小弟妹都靠她，又得服侍父亲，事事都周到；也经济，家计倒渐渐的稳当起来了。邻居几乎没有一个不夸奖她，连长富也时常说些感激的活。这一次我动身回来的时候，我的母亲又记得她了，老年人记性真长久。她说她曾经知道顺姑因为看见谁的头上戴着红的剪绒花，自己也想一朵，弄不到，哭了，哭了小半夜，就挨了她父亲的一顿打，后来眼眶还红肿了两三天。这种剪绒花是外省的东西，Ｓ城里尚且买不出，她那里想得到手呢？趁我这一次回南的便，便叫我买两朵去送她。
“我对于这差使倒并不以为烦厌，反而很喜欢；为阿顺，我实在还有些愿意出力的意思的。前年，我回来接我母亲的时候，有一天，长富正在家，不知怎的我和他闲谈起来了。他便要请我吃点心，荞麦粉，并且告诉我所加的是白糖。你想，家里能有白糖的船户，可见决不是一个穷船户了，所以他也吃得很阔绰。我被劝不过，答应了，但要求只要用小碗。他也很识世故，便嘱咐阿顺说，‘他们文人，是不会吃东西的。你就用小碗，多加糖！’然而等到调好端来的时候，仍然使我吃一吓，是一大碗，足够我吃一天。但是和长富吃的一碗比起来，我的也确乎算小碗。我生平没有吃过荞麦粉，这回一尝，实在不可口，却是非常甜。我漫然的吃了几口，就想不吃了，然而无意中，忽然间看见阿顺远远的站在屋角里，就使我立刻消失了放下碗筷的勇气。我看她的神情，是害怕而且希望，大约怕自己调得不好，愿我们吃得有味，我知道如果剩下大半碗来，一定要使她很失望，而且很抱歉。我于是同时决心，放开喉咙灌下去了，几乎吃得和长富一样快。我由此才知道硬吃的苦痛，我只记得还做孩子时候的吃尽一碗拌着驱除蛔虫药粉的沙糖才有这样难。然而我毫不抱怨，因为她过来收拾空碗时候的忍着的得意的笑容，已尽够赔偿我的苦痛而有余了。所以我这一夜虽然饱胀得睡不稳，又做了一大串恶梦，也还是祝赞她一生幸福，愿世界为她变好。然而这些意思也不过是我的那些旧日的梦的痕迹，即刻就自笑，接着也就忘却了。
“我先前并不知道她曾经为了一朵剪绒花挨打，但因为母亲一说起，便也记得了荞麦粉的事，意外的勤快起来了。我先在太原城里搜求了一遍，都没有；一直到济南……”
窗外沙沙的一阵声响，许多积雪从被他压弯了的一技山茶树上滑下去了，树枝笔挺的伸直，更显出乌油油的肥叶和血红的花来。天空的铅色来得更浓，小鸟雀啾唧的叫着，大概黄昏将近，地面又全罩了雪，寻不出什么食粮，都赶早回巢来休息了。
“一直到了济南，”他向窗外看了一回，转身喝干一杯酒，又吸几口烟，接着说。“我才买到剪绒花。我也不知道使她挨打的是不是这一种，总之是绒做的罢了。我也不知道她喜欢深色还是浅色，就买了一朵大红的，一朵粉红的，都带到这里来。
“就是今天午后，我一吃完饭，便去看长富，我为此特地耽搁了一天。他的家倒还在，只是看去很有些晦气色了，但这恐怕不过是我自己的感觉。他的儿子和第二个女儿——阿昭，都站在门口，大了。阿昭长得全不像她姊姊，简直像一个鬼，但是看见我走向她家，便飞奔的逃进屋里去。我就问那小子，知道长富不在家。‘你的大姊呢？’他立刻瞪起眼睛，连声问我寻她什么事，而且恶狠狠的似乎就要扑过来，咬我。我支吾着退走了，我现在是敷敷衍衍……
“你不知道，我可是比先前更怕去访人了。因为我已经深知道自己之讨厌，连自己也讨厌，又何必明知故犯的去使人暗暗地不快呢？然而这回的差使是不能不办妥的，所以想了一想，终于回到就在斜对门的柴店里。店主的母亲，老发奶奶，倒也还在，而且也还认识我，居然将我邀进店里坐去了。我们寒暄几句之后，我就说明了回到Ｓ城和寻长富的缘故。不料她叹息说：
“‘可惜顺姑没有福气戴这剪绒花了。’
“她于是详细的告诉我，说是‘大约从去年春天以来，她就见得黄瘦，后来忽而常常下泪了，问她缘故又不说；有时还整夜的哭，哭得长富也忍不住生气，骂她年纪大了，发了疯。可是一到秋初，起先不过小伤风，终于躺倒了，从此就起不来。直到咽气的前几天，才肯对长富说，她早就像她母亲一样，不时的吐红和流夜汗。但是瞒着，怕他因此要担心，有一夜，她的伯伯长庚又来硬借钱，——这是常有的事，——她不给，长庚就冷笑着说：你不要骄气，你的男人比我还不如！她从此就发了愁，又伯羞，不好问，只好哭。长富赶紧将她的男人怎样的挣气的话说给她听，那里还来得及？况且她也不信，反而说：好在我已经这样，什么也不要紧了。’
“她还说，‘如果她的男人真比长庚不如，那就真可怕呵！比不上一个愉鸡贼，那是什么东西呢？然而他来送殓的时候，我是亲眼看见他的，衣服很干净，人也体面；还眼泪汪汪的说，自己撑了半世小船，苦熬苦省的积起钱来聘了一个女人，偏偏又死掉了。可见他实在是一个好人，长庚说的全是诳。只可惜顺姑竟会相信那样的贼骨头的诳话，白送了性命。——但这也不能去怪谁，只能怪顺姑自己没有这一份好福气。’
“那倒也罢，我的事情又完了。但是带在身边的两朵剪绒花怎么办呢？好，我就托她送了阿昭。这阿昭一见我就飞跑，大约将我当作一只狼或是什么，我实在不愿意去送她。——但是我也就送她了，母亲只要说阿顺见了喜欢的了不得就是。这些无聊的事算什么？只要模模胡胡。模模胡胡的过了新年，仍旧教我的‘子日诗云’去。”
“你教的是‘子日诗云’么？”我觉得奇异，便问。
“自然。你还以为教的是ABCD么？我先是两个学生，一个读《诗经》，一个读《孟子》。新近又添了一个，女的，读《女儿经》。连算学也不教，不是我不教，他们不要教。”
“我实在料不到你倒去教这类的书，……”
“他们的老子要他们读这些，我是别人，无乎不可的。这些无聊的事算什么？只要随随便便，……”
他满脸已经通红，似乎很有些醉，但眼光却又消沉下去了。我微微的叹息，一时没有话可说。楼梯上一阵乱响，拥上几个酒客来：当头的是矮子，拥肿的圆脸；第二个是长的，在脸上很惹眼的显出一个红鼻子；此后还有人，一叠连的走得小楼都发抖。我转眼去着吕纬甫，他也正转眼来看我，我就叫堂倌算酒账。
“你借此还可以支持生活么？”我一面准备走，一面问。
“是的。——我每月有二十元，也不大能够敷衍。”
“那么，你以后豫备怎么办呢？”
“以后？——我不知道。你看我们那时豫想的事可有一件如意？我现在什么也不知道，连明天怎样也不知道，连后一分……”
堂倌送上账来，交给我；他也不像初到时候的谦虚了，只向我看了一眼，便吸烟，听凭我付了账。
我们一同走出店门，他所住的旅馆和我的方向正相反，就在门口分别了。我独自向着自己的旅馆走，寒风和雪片扑在脸上，倒觉得很爽快。见天色已是黄昏，和屋宇和街道都织在密雪的纯白而不定的罗网里。
一九二四年二月一六日
（原刊1924年5月10日《小说月报》第15卷第5号）
Lu Xun
In the Wine Shop
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Written: February 16, 1924
Source: Selected Stories of Lu Hsun, Published by Foreign Languages Press, Peking, 1960, 1972
Transcribed: Original transcription from coldbacon.com
HTML Markup: Mike B. for MIA, 2005
Public Domain: Marxists Internet Archive (2005). You may freely copy, distribute, display and perform this work; as well as make derivative and commercial works. Please credit “Marxists Internet Archive” as your source.
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During my travels from the North to the Southeast I made a detour to my home, then to S——. This town is only about ten miles from my native place, and by small boat can be reached in less than half a day. I had taught in a school here for a year. In the depth of winter, after snow, the landscape was bleak. Indolence and nostalgia combined finally made me put up for a short time in the Lo Szu Inn, one which had not been there before. The town was small. I looked for several old colleagues I thought I might find, but not one was there: they had long since gone their different ways. When I passed the gate of the school, I found that too had changed its name and appearance, which made me feel quite a stranger. In less than two hours my enthusiasm had waned, and I rather reproached myself for coming.
The inn in which I stayed let rooms but did not supply meals; rice and dishes could be ordered from outside, but they were quite unpalatable, tasting like mud. Outside the window was only a stained and spotted wall, covered with withered moss. Above was the slaty sky, dead white without any colouring; moreover a light flurry of snow had begun to fall. I had had a poor lunch to begin with, and had nothing to do to while away the time, so quite naturally I thought of a small wine shop I had known very well in the old days, called "One Barrel House," which, I reckoned, could not be far from the hotel. I immediately locked the door of my room and set out for this tavern. Actually, all I wanted was to escape the boredom of my stay. I did not really want to drink. "One Barrel House" was still there, its narrow, mouldering front and dilapidated signboard unchanged. But from the landlord down to the waiter there was not a single person I knew—in "One Barrel House" too I had become a complete stranger. Still I walked up the familiar flight of stairs in the corner of the room to the little upper storey. Up here were the same five small wooden tables, unchanged. Only the back window, which had originally had a wooden lattice, had been fitted with panes of glass.
"A catty of yellow wine. Dishes? Ten slices of fried beancurd, with plenty of pepper sauce!"
As I gave the order to the waiter who had come up with me, I walked to the back and sat down at the table by the window. This upstairs room was absolutely empty, which enabled me to take possession of the best seat from which I could look out on to the deserted courtyard beneath. The courtyard probably did not belong to the wine shop. I had looked out at it many times before in the past, sometimes in snowy weather too. Now, to eyes accustomed to the North, the sight was sufficiently striking: several old plum trees, rivals of the snow, were actually in full blossom as if entirely oblivious of winter; while beside the crumbling pavilion there was still a camellia with a dozen crimson blossoms standing out against its thick, dark green foliage, blazing in the snow as bright as fire, indignant and arrogant, as if despising the wanderer‘s wanderlust. I suddenly remembered the moistness of the heaped snow here, clinging, glistening and shining, quite unlike the dry northern snow which, when a high wind blows, will fly up and fill the sky like mist. . . .
"Your wine, sir," said the waiter carelessly, and put down the cup, chopsticks, wine pot and dish. The wine had come. I turned to the table, set everything straight and filled my cup. I felt that the North was certainly not my home, yet when I came South I could only count as a stranger. The dry snow up there, which flew like powder, and the soft snow here, which clung lingeringly, seemed equally alien to me. In a slightly melancholy mood, I took a leisurely sip of wine. The wine was quite pure, and the fried beancurd was excellently cooked. The only pity was that the pepper sauce was too thin, but then the people of S—— had never understood pungent flavours .
Probably because it was only afternoon, the place had none of the atmosphere of a tavern. I had already drunk three cups, but apart from myself there were still only four bare wooden tables in the place. Looking at the deserted courtyard I began to feel lonely, yet I did not want any other customers to come up. I could not help being irritated by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and was relieved to find it was only the waiter. And so I drank another two cups of wine.
"This time it must be a customer," I thought, for the footsteps sounded much slower than those of the waiter. When I judged that he must be at the top of the stairs, I raised my head rather apprehensively to look at this unwelcome company. I gave a start and stood up. I never guessed that here of all places I should unexpectedly meet a friend—if such he would still let me call him. The newcomer was an old classmate who had been my colleague when I was a teacher, and although he had changed a great deal I knew him as soon as I saw him. Only he had become much slower in his movements, very unlike the nimble and active Lu Wei-fu of the old days.
"Ah, Wei-fu, is it you? I never expected to meet you here."
"Oh, it‘s you? Neither did I ever. . . ."
I urged him to join me, but only after some hesitation did he seem willing to sit down. At first I thought this very strange, and felt rather hurt and displeased. When I looked closely at him he had still the same disorderly hair and beard and pale oblong face, but he was thinner and weaker. He looked very quiet, or perhaps dispirited, and his eyes beneath their thick black brows had lost their alertness; but when he looked slowly around in the direction of the deserted courtyard, from his eyes suddenly flashed one of those piercing looks which I had seen so often at school.
"Well," I said cheerfully but somewhat awkwardly, "we have not seen each other now for about ten years. I heard long ago that you were at Tsinan, but I was so wretchedly lazy I never wrote. . . ."
"I was just the same. I have been at Taiyuan for more than two years now, with my mother. When I came back to fetch her I learned that you had already left, left for good and all."
"What are you doing in Taiyuan?" I asked.
"Teaching in the family of a fellow-provincial."
"And before that?"
"Before that?" He took a cigarette from his pocket, lit it and put it in his mouth, then, watching the smoke as he puffed, said reflectively, "Simply futile work, equivalent to doing nothing at all."
He also asked what had happened to me since we separated. I gave him a rough idea, at the same time calling the waiter to bring a cup and chopsticks, so that he could share my wine while we had another two catties heated. We also ordered dishes. In the past we had never stood on ceremony, but now we began to be so formal that neither would choose a dish, and finally we fixed on four suggested by the waiter: peas spiced with aniseed, cold meat, fried beancurd, and salted fish.
"As soon as I came back I knew I was a fool." Holding his cigarette in one hand and the winecup in the other, he spoke with a bitter smile. "When I was young, I saw the way bees or flies stopped in one place. If they were frightened they would fly off, but after flying in a small circle they would come back again to stop in the same place; and I thought this really very foolish, as well as pathetic. But I didn‘t think that I would fly back myself, after only flying in a small circle. And I didn‘t think you would come back either. Couldn‘t you have flown a little further?"
"That‘s difficult to say. Probably I too have simply flown in a small circle." I also spoke with a rather bitter smile. "But why did you fly back?"
"For something quite futile." In one gulp he emptied his cup, then took several pulls at his cigarette, and opened his eyes a little wider. "Futile—but you may as well hear about it."
The waiter brought up the freshly heated wine and dishes, and set them on the table. The smoke and the fragrance of fried beancurd seemed to make the upstairs room more cheerful, while outside the snow fell still more thickly.
"Perhaps you knew," he went on, "that I had a little brother who died when he was three, and was buried here in the country. I can‘t even remember clearly what he looked like, but I have heard my mother say he was a very lovable child, and very fond of me. Even now it brings tears to her eyes to speak of him. This spring an elder cousin wrote to tell us that the ground beside his grave was gradually being swamped, and he was afraid before long it would slip into the river: we should go at once and do something about it. As soon as my mother knew this, she became very upset, and couldn‘t sleep for several nights—she can read letters by herself, you know. But what could I do? I had no money, no time: there was nothing that could be done.
"Only now, taking advantage of my New Year‘s holiday, I have been able to come South to move his grave." He drained another cup of wine, looked out of the window and exclaimed: "Could you find anything like this up North? Flowers in thick snow, and beneath the snow unfrozen ground. So the day before yesterday I bought a small coffin, because I reckoned that the one under the ground must have rotted long ago—I took cotton and bedding, hired four workmen, and went into the country to move his grave. At the time I suddenly felt very happy, eager to dig up the grave, eager to see the body of the little brother who had been so fond of me: this was a new sensation for me. When we reached the grave, sure enough, the river water was encroaching on it and was already less than two feet away. The poor grave had not had any earth added to it for two years, and had sunk in. I stood in the snow, firmly pointed it out to the workmen, and said: ‘Dig it up!‘
"I really am a commonplace fellow. I felt that my voice at this juncture was rather unnatural, and that this order was the greatest I had given in all my life. But the workmen didn‘t find it at all strange, and simply set to work to dig. When they reached the enclosure I had a look, and indeed the wood of the coffin had rotted almost completely away, leaving only a heap of splinters and small fragments of wood. My heart beat faster and I set these aside myself very carefully, wanting to see my little brother. However, I was taken by surprise. Bedding, clothes, skeleton, all had gone! I thought: ‘These have all rotted away, but I always heard that the most difficult substance to rot is hair; perhaps there is still some hair.‘ So I bent down and looked carefully in the mud where the pillow should have been, but there was none. Not a trace remained." I suddenly noticed that the rims of his eyes had become rather red, but realized at once that this was the effect of the wine. He had scarcely touched the dishes, but had been drinking incessantly, so that he had already drunk more than a catty, and his looks and gestures had all become more vigorous, so that he gradually resembled the Lu Wei-fu I had known. I called the waiter to heat two more measures of wine, then turned back and, taking my winecup, face to face with him, listened in silence to what he had to tell.
"Actually it need not really have been moved again; I had only to level the ground, sell the coffin, and that would have been the end of it. Although there would have been something rather singular in my going to sell the coffin, still, if the price were low enough the shop from which I bought it would have taken it, and at least I could have saved a little money for wine. But I didn‘t do so. I still spread out the bedding, wrapped up in cotton some of the clay where his body had been, covered it up, put it in the new coffin, moved it to the grave where my father was buried, and buried it beside him. Because I used bricks for an enclosure of the coffin I was busy again most of yesterday, supervising the work. In this way I can count the affair ended, at least enough to deceive my mother and set her mind at rest. Well, well, you look at me like that! Do you blame me for being so changed? Yes, I still remember the time when we went together to the Tutelary God‘s Temple to pull off the images‘ beards, how all day long we used to discuss methods of revolutionizing China until we even came to blows. But now I am like this, willing to let things slide and to compromise. Sometimes I think: ‘If my old friends were to see me now, probably they would no longer acknowledge me as a friend.‘ But this is what I am like now."
He took out another cigarette, put it in his mouth and lit it.
"Judging by your expression, you still seem to have hope for me. Naturally I am much more obtuse than before, but there are still some things I realize. This makes me grateful to you, at the same time rather uneasy. I am afraid I am only letting down the old friends who even now still have some hope for me. . . ." He stopped and puffed several times at his cigarette before going on slowly: "Only today, just before coming to this ‘One Barrel House,‘ I did something futile, and yet it was something I was glad to do. My former neighbour on the east side was called Chang Fu. He was a boatman and had a daughter called Ah Shun. When you came to my house in those days you might have seen her, but you certainly wouldn‘t have paid any attention to her, because she was so small then. Nor did she grow up to be pretty, having just an ordinary thin oval face and pale skin. Only her eyes were unusually large, with very long lashes, and the whites were as clear as a cloudless night sky—I mean the cloudless sky of the North when there is no wind; here it is not so clear. She was very capable. She lost her mother when she was in her teens, and it was her job to look after a small brother and sister; also she had to wait on her father, and all this she did very competently. She was economical too, so that the family gradually grew better off. There was scarcely a neighbour who did not praise her, and even Chang Fu often expressed his appreciation. When I left on my journey this time, my mother remembered her—old people‘s memories are so long. She recalled that in the past Ah Shun once saw someone wearing artificial red flowers in her hair, and wanted a spray for herself. When she couldn‘t get one she cried nearly all night, so that she was beaten by her father, and her eyes remained red and swollen for two or three days. These red flowers came from another province, and couldn‘t be bought even in S——, so how could she ever hope to have any? Since I was coming South this time, my mother told me to buy two sprays to give her.
"Far from feeling vexed at this commission, I was actually delighted. I was really glad to do something for Ah Shun. The year before last, I came back to fetch my mother, and one day when Chang Fu was at home I happened to start chatting with him. He wanted to invite me to take a bowl of gruel made of buckwheat flour, telling me that they added white sugar to it. You see, a boatman who could keep white sugar in his house was obviously not poor, and must eat very well. I let myself be persuaded and accepted, but begged that they would only give me a small bowl. He quite understood, and said to Ah Shun: ‘These scholars have no appetite. You can use a small bowl, but add more sugar!‘ However when she had prepared the concoction and brought it in, I gave a start, for it was a large bowl, as much as I would eat in a whole day. Compared with Chang Fu‘s bowl, it is true, it did appear small. In all my life I had never eaten this buckwheat gruel, and now that I tasted it, it was really unpalatable, though extremely sweet. I carelessly swallowed a few mouthfuls, and had decided not to eat any more when I happened to catch a glimpse of Ah Shun standing far off in one corner of the room. Then I hadn‘t the heart to put down my chopsticks. I saw in her face both hope and fear—fear, no doubt, that she had prepared it badly, and hope that we would find it to our liking. I knew that if I left most of mine she would feel very disappointed and apologetic. So I screwed up my courage, opened my mouth wide and shovelled it down, eating almost as fast as Chang Fu. It was then that I learned the agony of forcing oneself to eat; I remember when I was a child and had to finish a bowl of brown sugar mixed with medicine for worms I experienced the same difficulty. I felt no resentment, though, because her half suppressed smile of satisfaction, when she came to take away our empty bowls, repaid me amply for all my discomfort. That night, although indigestion kept me from sleeping well and I had a series of nightmares, I still wished her a lifetime of happiness, and hoped the world would change for the better for her sake. Such thoughts were only the traces of my dreams in the old days. The next instant I laughed at myself, and promptly forgot them.
"I did not know before that she had been beaten on account of a spray of artificial flowers, but when my mother spoke of it I remembered the buckwheat gruel incident, and became unaccountably diligent. First I made a search in Taiyuan, but none of the shops had them. It was only when I went to Tsinan. . . ."
There was a rustle outside the window, as a pile of snow slipped down from the camellia which it had bent beneath its weight; then the branches of the tree straightened themselves, showing even more clearly their dark thick foliage and bloodred flowers. The colour of the sky became more slaty. Small sparrows chirped, probably because evening was near, and since the ground was covered with snow they could find nothing to eat and would go early to their nests to sleep.
"It was only when I went to Tsinan," he looked out of the window for a moment, turned back and drained a cup of wine, took several puffs at his cigarette, and went on, "only then did I buy the artificial flowers. I didn‘t know whether those she had been beaten for were this kind or not; but at least these were also made of velvet. I didn‘t know either whether she liked a deep or a light colour, so I bought one spray of red, one spray of pink, and brought them both here.
"Just this afternoon, as soon as I had finished lunch, I went to see Chang Fu, having specially stayed an extra day for this. His house was there all right, only looking rather gloomy; or perhaps that was simply my imagination. His son and second daughter—Ah Chao—were standing at the gate. Both of them had grown. Ah Chao was quite different from her sister, and looked very plain; but when she saw me come up to their house, she quickly ran inside. When I asked the little boy, I found that Chang Fu was not at home. ‘And your elder sister?‘ At once he stared at me wide-eyed, and asked me what I wanted her for; moreover he seemed very fierce, as if he wanted to attack me. Hesitantly I walked away. Nowadays I just let things slide. . . .
"You have no idea how much more afraid I am of calling on people than I used to be. Because I know very well how unwelcome I am, I have even come to dislike myself and, knowing this, why should I inflict myself on others? But this time I felt my errand had to be carried out, so after some reflection I went back to the firewood shop almost opposite their house. The shopkeeper‘s mother, Old Mrs. Fa, was there at least, and still recognized me. She actually asked me into the shop to sit down. After an exchange of polite remarks I told her why I had come back to S—— and was looking for Chang Fu. I was taken aback when she heaved a sigh and said:
"What a pity Ah Shun had not the good luck to wear these flowers you have brought.‘
"Then she told me the whole story, saying, ‘It was probably last spring that Ah Shun began to look pale and thin. Later she would often start crying suddenly, and if you asked her why, she wouldn‘t say. Sometimes she even cried all night, until Chang Fu lost his temper and scolded her, saying she had waited too long to marry and had gone mad. When autumn came, first she had a slight cold and then she took to her bed, and after that she never got up again. Only a few days before she died, she told Chang Fu that she had long ago become like her mother, often spitting blood and perspiring at night. She had hidden it, afraid that he would worry about her. One evening her uncle Chang Keng came to demand money—he was always doing that—and when she would not give him any he smiled coldly and said, "Don‘t be so proud; your man is not even up to me!" That upset her, but she was too shy to ask, and could only cry. As soon as Chang Fu knew this, he told her what a decent fellow her future husband was; but it was too late. Besides, she didn‘t believe him. "It‘s a good thing I‘m already like this," she said. "Now nothing matters any more."‘
"The old woman also said, ‘If her man was really not as good as Chang Keng, that would be truly frightful! He would not be up to a chicken thief, and what sort of fellow would that be! But when he came to the funeral I saw him with my own eyes: his clothes were clean and he was very presentable. He said with tears in his eyes that he had worked hard all those years on the boat to save up money to marry, but now the girl was dead. Obviously he must really have been a good man, and everything Chang Keng said was false. It was only a pity Ah Shun believed such a rascally liar, and died for nothing. But we can‘t blame anyone else: this was Ah Shun‘s fate.‘
"Since that was the case, my business was finished too. But what about the two sprays of artificial flowers I had brought with me? Well, I asked her to give them to Ah Chao. This Ah Chao no sooner saw me than she fled as if I were a wolf or some monster; I really didn‘t want to give them to her. However, I did give them to her, and I have only to tell my mother that Ah Shun was delighted with them, and that will be that. Who cares about such futile affairs anyway? One only wants to muddle through them somehow. When I have muddled through New Year I shall go back to teaching the Confucian classics as before."
"Are you teaching that?" I asked in astonishment.
"Of course. Did you think I was teaching English? First I had two pupils, one studying the Book of Songs, the other Mencius. Recently I have got another, a girl, who is studying the Canon for Girls.1 I don‘t even teach mathematics; not that I wouldn‘t teach it, but they don‘t want it taught."
"I could really never have guessed that you would be teaching such books."
"Their father wants them to study these. I‘m an outsider, so it‘s all the same to me. Who cares about such futile affairs anyway? There‘s no need to take them seriously."
His whole face was scarlet as if he were quite drunk, but the gleam in his eyes had died down. I gave a slight sigh, and for a time found nothing to say. There was a clatter on the stairs as several customers came up. The first was short, with a round bloated face; the second was tall with a conspicuous, red nose. Behind them were others, and as they walked up the small upper floor shook. I turned to Lu Wei-fu, who was trying to catch my eyes; then I called the waiter to bring the bill.
"Is your salary enough to live on?" I asked as I prepared to leave.
"I have twenty dollars a month, not quite enough to manage on."
"Then what do you mean to do in future?"
"In future? I don‘t know. Just think: Has any single thing turned out as we hoped of all we planned in the past? I‘m not sure of anything now, not even of what I will do tomorrow, nor even of the next minute. . . ."
The waiter brought up the bill and gave it to me. Wei-fu did not behave so formally as before, just glanced at me, then went on smoking and allowed me to pay.
We went out of the wine shop together. His hotel lay in the opposite direction to mine, so we said goodbye at the door. As I walked alone towards my hotel, the cold wind and snow beat against my face, but I felt refreshed. I saw that the sky was already dark, woven together with houses and streets into the white, shifting web of thick snow.
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Notes
1. A book giving the feudal standard of behaviour for girls, and the virtues they should cultivate.
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