​​         Chinese Stories in English   

Opposite Shore (Page 4)
Stories printed in The Other Shore《彼岸花》作家网*选编|冰峰*主编
Page citation and link to Chinese text noted after each story.


                                       1. Celebrating New Year’s            3. A Fine Doctor                     4. Ferry Crossing
                                      2. Eliminating a Traitor                                                                   5. Dragon Dog


1. Celebrating the New Year (过年)
Kang Liuzhu (亢留柱)

      A heavy snowstorm had just turned to a clear day in mid-December of the lunar calendar. It was the last month of a sixty-year cycle. Snowdrifts more than a foot thick still covered the ground early in the morning, and snowflakes flew around haphazardly in the northwest wind. It hurt when they hit you in the face. Sunlight from above collided with the light reflected off the snow, creating rays of light of indistinguishable color and making it difficult for people to keep their eyes open.
      For the time being, the drought that had lasted half a year in western Henan Province had finally been alleviated. The autumn harvest had failed, however, and farmers’ lives were as difficult as sitting on a frying pan. Every family was worried about the upcoming Spring Festival to celebrate the new year. Adults could easily say that they’d make do with tattered clothes and coarse food, as they always did, but the children had been anxiously awaiting the celebration for a year. How could anyone call it a New Year’s festival without getting new clothes and eating meat dumplings?
      The public roadway, usually filled with the sounds of camels’ bells and horses’ hooves, now was completely deserted. Only a few wild geese strolled leisurely along the roadside. They occasionally raised their necks and honked to call others of their kind to join them in foraging for food.
      In contrast the Ma family compound, which was close to the public roadway, bustled with activity. The snow had been cleared and the entire courtyard was covered with a gray tarpaulin. Charcoal fires burned brightly in iron braziers in the east, south, west and north corners, and in the center as well.
      Three large woven bamboo baskets topped by spires had also been placed in the yard. The shallow baskets were filled with copper coins. Twenty or thirty people sat around each bamboo basket, each with a small wicker basket in front of them. They were all busy, working steadily without talking or laughing, because they knew that the job of stringing copper coins required not only quick hands but also great care. If they counted wrong, they wouldn’t have the gall to accept the wages and the three meals provided by Shopkeeper Ma.
      The Ma family had an extensive operation in the salt business, including many branches. They collected accounts due at the end of the year and would string the coins together on a hemp cord. One hundred and sixty coins per cord was called “a string of cash”. These strings could be conveniently used to purchase goods that would arrive in the spring.
      Shopkeeper Ma had called a meeting of his servants and his housekeeper, Third Ma, on the evening of the thirteenth to announce a decision: First, starting on the nineteenth, each family in the village and nearby villages could send one person to the Ma family compound for an eight-day session counting copper coins. The pay was five cents and three meals per day, plus a bonus if the work was done well. Second, Shopkeeper Ma would hire five chefs with good skills to do the cooking. They would be highly paid. Chef Zhang from West Street would have to be among the hires because his chowder was one of a kind.
      Lunch on the appointed day was Chef Zhang's specialty – a chowder of mixed vegetables served with steamed buns and millet soup. Shopkeeper Ma strolled out of the house and announced, “This job isn’t hard, but it is tiring. Everyone eat your fill and then, after lunch, take a half-hour break to rest your hands and eyes before working again. I have to go inside and take a nap.” He picked up a string of copper coins and shook them, “tinkle, tinkle”. Satisfied, he continued, “Thank you all for your hard work!” and walked back into his house.
      Everyone gathered around their braziers after they ate and started to chat and laugh. They hadn't been in the mood to gossip and tell jokes for a long time. People exclaimed about how really rich the Ma family was and how really nice Shopkeeper Ma was, and how this job was really a good deal because now they had high hopes for the Spring Festival….
      No one noticed that Shopkeeper Ma was watching the people chat and laugh from behind the carved upstairs window of the house. He said to himself, “Too bad, all that ready-made money and they don't even know what they’ve got.”
      Many hands make light work. By the time it got dark that evening, three baskets filled with copper coins had been strung together and neatly placed into three other baskets. Dinner was noodles with shredded pork. Shopkeeper Ma said noodles warm people up when it’s cold outside. He finished by adding that a light meal wouldn’t satisfy their hunger, so when they went home, each person would be given two steamed buns to take with them.
      The Ma family slaughtered a pig on the twenty-sixth. The sun was shining brightly that day, and the thick snow on the ground had all melted. The work of counting copper coins was done.
      The housekeeper, Third Ma, gave everyone their wages of forty copper coins and two pounds of pork after they ate. Everyone left the Ma family compound happily.
      As Shopkeeper Ma escorted the people out, he told Third Ma, “Festivals are tough in famine years, but this time the villagers can have a Happy New Year.” Third Ma agreed, but his eyes grew wet. The tears rolled around in his eyes and then flowed freely.
      On the morning of the fifth day of the new year, Chef Zhang and Third Ma ran into each other on East Street. The recent stringing of copper coins came up during their conversation.
      “Old Ma’s family must really have made a fortune in the past few years,” Chef Zhang commented. “Just the change they collected was enough to fill more than twenty baskets.”
      Third Ma shook his head ‘“What do you know? Truth is, the Ma family only had those three baskets of copper coins. Shopkeeper Ma took ingots of precious metal to the city and exchanged them for the coins. He had us bring the coins home in a horse-drawn carriage. The villagers strung the coins on cords during the day, but at night, Shopkeeper Ma and a few of us others took the strings apart so the villagers could string them together again the next day. That’s what he did for all those eight days.”
      Chef Zhang was puzzled at first and then surprised. Finally, he sighed, “Good man, good man. He is a good man!”

Chinese text on p. 248. Also available here.
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2. Eliminating a Traitor (锄奸)

Sun Changle (孙长乐)

      Equality Yu went overseas with several schoolmates to study in Japan during the early years of the Republic of China [1912-1949]. When he returned to China a few years later, warlords were fighting for control of the country. He had no high aspirations, so he settled in his hometown of Fuzhou and became a private school teacher.
      After the Japanese army occupied Fuzhou, Commander Ishida of the local garrison learned that Equality was fluent in Japanese and asked him to serve as an interpreter. He threatened him by promising that his entire family would be killed if he didn’t obey, so Equality had no choice but to become a Japanese army interpreter.
      Several hardcore traitors worked for the Japanese devils in Fuzhou at the time. Adjacent Xue, owner of the Beneficial Spring Pharmacy, was one of them, but he had a cousin who was an anti-Japanese patriot. One day the patriot went to Adjacent's pharmacy to buy medicine and Adjacent turned him in to the Japanese devils. The patriot was caught and beheaded as a result.
      Equality was eating in a streetside restaurant one evening when a little beggar handed him a letter. “Someone just asked me to give this to you,” he claimed.
      Equality looked puzzled as he took the letter. “What sort of person was it?”
      “A man wearing a black gown and a gray top hat.”
      Equality stood at the door of the restaurant and looked around, but he didn't see anyone meeting that description. He opened the letter and saw that it was unsigned. It just said that Adjacent, the owner of Beneficial Spring Pharmacy, had the painting “Ladies Burning Incense” by Ming Dynasty artist
Qiu Ying, hidden in his home, and the writer hoped that Equality would tell Ishida about it. Equality was a little confused by this mysterious letter but understood the writer’s intent -- he figured that the writer was an anti-Japanese patriot who wanted to punish Adjacent.
      Ishida had collected a lot of precious antiques, calligraphy and paintings since coming to China. One day he brought out several ancient paintings that he’d recently acquired and asked Equality to enjoy them with him. After admiring them for a while, Equality said, “These paintings are indeed of great artistic value, but they’re far inferior to “Ladies Burning Incense”, which is owned by a family here in Fuzhou.”
      Ishida asked about “Ladies Burning Incense”, and Equality told him it was painted by Qiu Ying and could be considered an extraordinary treasure. Ishida was an expert on China and knew that Qiu Ying had started out as a lacquerware worker and later become a master painter. Without hesitation he asked about the whereabouts of the painting. Equality approached him and whispered, “Adjacent has it. It’s an heirloom handed down in his family.”
      Ishida was delighted and immediately sent someone to find Adjacent. Half an hour later, Adjacent came into the room. He bowed respectfully and said, with a note of caution in his voice, “You wanted to see me, sir. Please tell me what you’d like me to do.”
      Ishida came right to the point. In half-baked Chinese, he said, “I hear you got the painting ‘Ladies Burning Incense’ in your collection. Bring it out so I can feast my eyes on it. How about it?”
      Adjacent was stunned. The painting had been handed down to him from his ancestors and no outsiders had ever been told about it. He couldn’t imagine how Ishida had found out, but he was clear about one thing. Since Ishida did know about it, he’d have to give him the painting without arguing if he wanted to survive. Ishida ordered him to go straight home and get it, and he left the room with a sour look on his face.
      Adjacent went home and got the painting. He sighed repeatedly. His family had kept it under wraps for centuries and not even one outsider knew about it. Only a few relatives did, including the cousin who’d been killed by the devils. He’d seen it once when visiting his home. Adjacent shuddered when he thought of his cousin. He looked at the painting for a while with his thoughts running wild, then bundled it up and left the house.
      Halfway back to Ishida’s office, on a downhill part of the road, a big black dog jumped out from nowhere. It barked crazily and pounced. Adjacent dodged to the side, dropped the painting and picked up a stick. While he was waving the stick to drive the dog away, someone in the distance whistled twice, two long notes. The dog stopped barking, turned to pick the bundle up from the ground in its mouth and ran down the slope. By the time Adjacent caught his breath, the animal had disappeared. After a moment of stunned frustration, Adjacent picked himself up and walked despondently towards Ishida's barracks.
      Ishida and Equality were both surprised when Adjacent walked into the room looking disheveled and dejected. Ishida looked him up and down and was about to ask him something, but Adjacent started telling him what had happened on the way there. He was crying as he spoke.
      Ishida stared at Adjacent as he finished his tale. “That’s a bunch of hooey,” he sneered. “You’re lying!”
      Equality spoke to Ishida in Japanese: “That painting is a Xue family treasure. I didn’t expect him to give it up casually, either.”
      Ishida walked up to Adjacent, grabbed his collar and snarled: “Deceiving the Imperial Army is a road to certain death!”
      Adjacent's face turned ashen and he stammered something about not knowing why this was happening. Ishida couldn’t restrain his anger. He roared, raised his sword with both hands and chopped down on Adjacent's forehead. Adjacent met his fate instantly.
      A few days later, at noon, Equality had just come out of his house when a middle-aged man in a black gown and a gray bowler hat approached him. “Mr. Yu,” he whispered, “can I please have a word with you?”
      They stopped in a secluded part of the alley, where the man turned to Equality and saluted. “Thank you, Mr. Yu, for cooperating with our Anti-Japanese Allied Forces to eliminate Adjacent. The reason we chose you to cooperate with us is because we know you’re a thinking man with a conscience.”
      “I have my own difficulties being a translator for the Japanese army,” Equality sighed, “but I feel ashamed to face my ancestors!” He looked at the man admiringly. “It seems you’ve been keeping an eye on Adjacent for a long time, and now the painting has fallen into your hands. I can’t imagine how you did it.”
      “We got help from a trained hunting dog.” He explained further, “We heard about the painting from Adjacent's cousin and devised a plan around it. We wanted to get Ishida to kill Adjacent by his own hand, so as to teach a lesson to any who try to sell out China. We let them know that if they become die-hard traitors, they not only face elimination by the anti-traitor team, but they also might be made ghosts at any time by their own master’s hand. And, we’ve had someone take the painting to our base camp where it can be cared for properly.” The man bowed to Equality and hurried away.
      Equality's mother died of an illness not long thereafter. He saw to her burial, then, one dark night, he left Fuzhou surreptitiously with his wife and two children and settled down in a small town. Later, he joined a local anti-Japanese organization and began to engage in anti-Japanese activities.

Chinese text at p. 250. Also available here.
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3. A Fine Doctor (良医)

Ma Hejing (马河静)

      Yellow River Hospital has two famous chief physicians: Upright Jia, the Director of Western Medicine, and Heroine Zhen, the Director of Traditional Chinese Medicine.
      Like a shop selling goods, a hospital outpatient clinic has regular customers because of its reputation. Most of the people who come to see Director Jia are government officials or businessmen. These people account for a small proportion of the population, but they have power and money. Heroine, in contrast, gets the general working types like old farmers and migrant workers. These people have little money in their pockets, but there’s a lot of them.
      The two directors are of different genders and have different personalities. They also each have their own advantages as far as technical ability is concerned. Together they sustain Yellow River Hospital’s grand facade.
      Director Upright is stout and looks like the
Maitreya Buddha. He’s amiable, speaks at a leisurely pace and greets people with a genuine smile. Some patients come from far away to see him because of his high cure rate and fast recoveries. (He prescribes strong medicines.) Thus the walls of his office are covered with banners proclaiming things like “Miraculous Doctor Rejuvenates People”, “Disease Cured at the Touch of a Hand”, “Bringing the Dead Back to Life”, and “Divine Doctor Hua Tuo Reborn”. The bottom line is, he’s the number one income generator in the hospital, bringing in almost half its profits. Naturally, this one man’s commissions equal the total commissions of all other doctors in the hospital.
      Heroine, the female director, is clear as ice and pure as jade, that is, she’s open and honest. She’s even-tempered with a peaceful demeanor and calm expression, and she’s careful in everything she says and does. She’ll spend a long time seeing one patient, checking the pulse at both the left and right wrist. While she may sometimes look tired afterwards, she’ll still lean back in her chair, cross her hands in front of her chest and ask questions about the family’s medical history for three generations back, as though she were conducting a political interrogation. She might say nothing for some time, thinking, before finally announcing, “It’s no big deal.” She might even tell terminally ill patients about to close their eyes for the last time, “It's okay, no problem.”
      Someone asked her: “Aren’t you hoodwinking your patients?”
      She admitted it. “If I say he won't live a hundred days, he might die right there and then. But if I say it’s OK, he might last for two hundred days.”
      She follows this philosophy: Doctors diagnose a disease without a machine through patience; and cure a disease without prescribing medicine through talent. She isn’t a god, however, and can’t cure diseases instantly. On this point, Director Jia laughs and says about her ideas, “Utopia, something that can be imagined but can’t be realized!” Fact is, though, she does reduce serious diseases to minor ones by prescribing strange folk prescriptions, and she doesn’t prescribe medicine for minor diseases.
      From this one can see that it’s frugal types who come to her --people who’ll cut a coin in two to avoid spending too much -- so why would they be willing to make banners for her? And further, given the ideals she pursues, how would she earn commissions? So what if she doesn’t earn commissions. She doesn’t seek to be better than others or compare herself to anyone. She feels comfortable with herself.
      So it was that one day in springtime, Heroine saw a patient whose face showed the vicissitudes of a long life. She noted that he was hunched over, leaning on a bamboo pole, and had a snakeskin bag slung over his back. She felt the old man's pulse and touched his forehead. It was obvious that he had a fever of about 102 degrees accompanied by a cough. After questioning him, she diagnosed him with common influenza. “No big deal,” she told him. “Go home, drink more water and get some rest.”
      The old man retorted, “My wife is paralyzed in bed and has to take medicine for high blood pressure. How can I dare rest? Just prescribe some medicine for me.”
      Heroine tore off a piece of paper and wrote: 10g ginger, 15g whites of green onion, 150g white radish, 20g brown sugar. She told the old man, “Boil this in water and drink it. It’ll do the job.”
      The old man was skeptical. He left the hospital but, perhaps because he was in a hurry to get well, he did an about face and went back to the hospital to see Director Jia, the Western medicine expert.
      Director Jia took his temperature and it was 102 degrees. He looked at his throat and asked, “Do you have a headache?”
      The old man said, “Yes, I do.”
      “Does your throat hurt?”
      “Yes.”
      “You feel weak?”
      “ Yes, yes. “
      “Achy, huh?
      “ Yes, yes, yes.” The old man felt that Director Jia saw everything.
      After Director Jia finished the examination, he said “Uh-huh”. Startled, the old man asked, “Is it serious?”
      Director Jia is nothing if not responsible and meticulous. He strives for perfection, so he told the old man he’d check some things before giving an opinion. He ordered a blood test, chest imaging and a brain CT scan. The tests all showed no major problems.
      The old man asked, “Is there a problem?”
      Director Jia didn't say there was no problem. He’d learned a lesson from past mistakes. He once had all kinds of tests done on a patient with a bloated stomach, including an MRI. The tests cost more than a thousand yuan but found nothing. He told the guy to just skip a meal and let his stomach empty out, and didn't prescribe any medicine. The patient wasn’t happy. “If I’m not sick, how dare you make me spend so much money on those tests?” This quite embarrassed Director Jia.
      So, as for the old man, Director Jia told him, “It's not a big deal, but it's not a small matter, either. If you take care of it in time, everything will be fine. If you delay, it’ll induce pneumonia, nephritis, meningitis and other problems. You can't let this slide.” He prescribed a lot of medicine and smiled when he told the old man, “This’ll do the trick! This’ll do the trick!” Such a guarantee made the old man feel like he’d met a miracle doctor. He rubbed his hands with joy like a little child.
      That was the year a vice president of the Yellow River Hospital got transferred to serve as the president at a rural hospital. The hospital was planning to promote one of the two directors, Upright or Heroine, to take his place as vice president. Upright felt that he had the inside track at getting the promotion. He was all smiles and glad-handed anyone he happened to meet.
      The hospital’s organization polled public opinion. To everyone’s surprise, Upright didn’t come in first.
      Even more surprisingly, Heroine did not want to be part of the administration. She said, “I should be a good doctor, not a good administrator. Whoever wants that job can have it.”
[Translator’s note: I don’t know what a Chinese reader is supposed to get out of this story, but as a Westerner I’ve learned that people who are too valuable as money earners in their current positions are less likely to get promoted.]

Chinese text on p. 253. Also available here.
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4. A Ferry Crossing (摆渡)

Yang Sufen (杨苏奋)

      At a canal south of the Yangtze river, people wanting to cross would wait at a wharf for a small boat to ferry them over. The boat’s operator, a thin, taciturn fellow in his forties, used a shiny iron staff to punt his ferry, not a bamboo pole like other ferrymen. When he saw someone waiting on the shore, he’d use the staff to push off from the bow and cross the canal so fast that the boat seemed to fly. He’d stick the staff into a round oarlock on the bow when he was done with a job, and the boat would remain steadfast on the shore.
      He lived in a thatched cottage on one bank of the canal and kept a white horse in a stable next to the cottage. If no one was waiting to cross, he’d sit facing the horse and smoke quietly.
      An endless stream of people wanted to take the ferry one
Grave Sweeping Day. The ferryman got busy before dawn and never stopped for a moment, and still a long queue waited on the shore. Several unruly people rushed to get on board as soon as the boat reached the shore. The ferryman saw them and shouted, “Eight people at a time, first come first served,” and pushed these people back to the shore with his iron staff.
      Eight people boarded the boat in orderly fashion, but then, without warning, a big foot stepped on the bow. The ferryman looked up and saw a middle-aged man with a commanding presence, wearing a bamboo rainhat and an official uniform. The ferryman blocked the man’s way with his staff and repeated, “Eight people at a time, first come first served.”
      The man claimed, “I’m on a government errand. I have official business to attend to.”
      The ferryman responded as before. “Eight people at a time, first come first served.” Then he raised his staff, pushed hard, and the boat left the dock. The man could only watch the boat leave.
      When the ferry returned, the middle-aged man put his hands behind his back and puffed out his chest. In an imperious tone of voice, with one foot on the bow, he asked, “Is it now my time to get on the boat?”
      With his iron staff in hand, the ferryman again said, “Eight people at a time, first come first served.” When he saw that the first eight people in line had boarded, he pushed hard with his staff and the boat was in the middle of the canal in a flash.
      The officious man rolled up his sleeves, stood up straight and paced back and forth along the shore. When the ferry returned, he stepped on the bow again just as it pulled in. “I must get on board this time. It's an important government matter. Can you take responsibility for your actions?” He stepped down hard until the bow was close to the waterline.
      The ferryman answered, “Eight people at a time, first come first served.” He watched the next eight people board the boat, then pushed off with his staff and the boat left the dock again. The man's foot was left hanging in the air.
      The boat soon came back again. Furious, the man jumped onto the boat and snatched the ferryman’s staff. He raised it with both hands and, staring at the ferryman, bent it into a curve and threw it to the front of the boat. “I see you think you’re as brave as a panther,” he glowered, “but you missed one important point. You’re going to lose your head!”
      The ferryman didn't say anything. He picked up his staff and, with minimal effort, straightened it out, pulling until it was even longer than before. He once more told the man, “Eight people at a time, first come first served.” The man’s jaw dropped in surprise and he jumped back on shore without another word.
      Eventually the man’s turn came to get on board. The ferryman told him, “Wait a second. I'll bring the horse around to get on with you.”
      The man complained, “Man, you’re just trying to make my life difficult. It's my turn to take the ferry, and you're getting a horse?”
      The ferryman jumped onto the shore, turned around and said, “Eight people at a time. But this time it's just you, so bringing the horse along is no big deal.”
      He led the horse onto the boat and pushed off so hard that the staff was almost under water. When they reached the other side of the canal, he inserted the staff into the oarlock, stabilized the boat and let the man go ashore. Then he led the horse off the boat and handed the reins to the man. “Get on the horse,” he said.
      The man hesitated a moment before he jumped on the horse. He glanced at the ferryman as he pulled on the reins. The horse turned and galloped away.
      After they were gone, the ferryman felt empty inside. He didn’t squat down to smoke as he had before. He kept pacing back and forth on the shore, looking into the distance.
      That evening, he heard a horse’s faint neighing. He put down his pipe right away and jumped outside. On the other side of the canal, he saw a white blur rushing towards the river. He leapt onto the ferry at once and punted towards the other side with his staff. When he got closer, he saw it was his white horse.
      Back in the corral, he opened a package that was tied under the horse’s neck. It was a bag of silver.

Chinese text on p. 260. Also available here.
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5. Dragon Dog (龙狗)

Liang Bowen (梁柏文)

      Eight-year-old Millet went to Big Sands with his friends one day to herd cattle. When they got there, just as everyone was rushing up the mountain to pick wild fruits and dig up bird nests, Millet suddenly screamed. A yellow-haired, dog-like creature had barked and jumped at him from a mound of grass.
      Millet noticed a cave hidden in the fallen grass behind the creature, so he called for Gully, the “Children’s King”, to come over. Together they drove the yellow-haired creature away and pulled apart the mound of grass. The cave was small and slick. Gully ran down to borrow a hoe from a man who was working at the foot of the mountain.
      The two boys started digging in the dim light. Soon they saw several little pups huddled together in the cave and whining continuously. They had light yellow fur and bright black eyes, much like the big yellow-haired creature Millet had just encountered.
      Gully picked one up and hugged it. He handed it to Millet as a reward and was content to pick another for himself. Their other two friends took the remaining two. They all walked down the mountain, satisfied with their new pets and completely ignoring the big yellow-hair barking wildly behind them.
      Millet got some rice soup to feed the little yellow-hair when he got home, but the creature just whimpered sadly and didn't open its mouth. Millet’s father was curious and came over to ask, “What’s this? A pet?”
      “Little Yellow-Hair.” Millet couldn't hide his excitement. “We dug it out from a small cave.”
      His Dad told Millet, “Little Yellow-Hair must be the pup of an animal that people around here call a ‘dragon dog’. They’re slightly smaller than domestic dogs and have yellow hair, pointed mouths and a long, thick tail with a white tip. Their front legs are slightly shorter, making it easier for them to climb uphill. They usually hide out in holes in the yellow soil that are warm in winter and cool in summer. At night they come down the mountain to the village to steal poultry for food.”
      The village where Millet and his friends live is built against a mountain. That night the air behind Millet’s house was filled with the dragon dog’s shrill, wild barking. It sounded choked, almost like sobbing, and seemed to worry Millet’s mother. She tossed and turned and couldn't sleep.
      Early in the morning, the boy’s Mom asked his Dad, “The creature’s mother was looking for her son last night. You realize that?”
      Dad was silent for a Moment while he thought it over. “That must be it. Don't think about it too much.”
      But Mom’s eyes were red. “I don't know why I feel so sad,” she said. “I guess it’s better to just put it behind us.” She wiped away her tears with her hands.
      But Dad’s face stiffened in a flash. “Put it behind us? How could we do that after all we’ve been through these last few years?” He knew what she meant by “put it behind us”.
      Meanwhile, Millet's mind was all on Little Yellow-Hair. He heard that his friends' little yellow-hairs had also refused to eat or drink, and he proposed to raise all four of them together so that the creatures would have companions. His friends were reluctant to let them go, though. “We can't give them away for free, can we?”
      Millet traded his beloved pencil case, his “Journey to the West“ comic book and his electronic watch to his friends for the little yellow-hairs. The four pups huddled together and rubbed against each other, apparently happy to be together again. Millet also got some rice soup, and made a point of adding an egg and brown sugar, but the pups still kept their little mouths shut and refused to eat. Millet was sweating profusely but he didn't know what to do.
      The next night, the dragon dog’s cries of begging and despair were heard again from the hillside behind the house. Millet’s Mom couldn’t sleep, so she got up and sat on the edge of the bed and sobbed. She remembered seeing a mother posting notices in the town to find her son. It was daytime, and while the mother was only in her thirties, she had gray hair and looked like a beggar. She collected rags to earn money to travel around the country. People said she’d been looking for her son for several years.
      Millet’s Dad was disgruntled when he woke up. “You’re crazy! Why do you think so much?”
      “I feel like it’s happening to me.... “She wiped away her tears. “If it’s like this for animals, how much more so for humans?”
      He finally got up and went to get his waterpipe. “What do you want me to do?”
      She implored him, “Just be resigned to fate!”
      He kept silent while he smoked a cigarette. In plain language, if he “put it behind us”, the villagers and even his parents and brothers would look down on him. As the saying goes, having no offspring is the greatest misfortune, so he didn't want to give up.
      She played her ace in the hole. “Don't you understand a mother's feelings? If you aren’t willing to do it, then we can't live together anymore!”
      He didn’t say anything more. He didn't want to lose the capable and virtuous mother of his children. But what else could he do? The couple didn't talk to each other or sleep all that night.
      When morning came, Millet rubbed his sleepy eyes and got up early to check on the little yellow-hairs. They were listless, with their eyes half closed, and their cries were very weak. Millet was shocked. They’d starve to death if they continued like this. Could it be that they would only drink their mother's milk?
      With that thought, Millet decided to take the little yellow-hairs back to their mother. He found a small basket, put an old towel in it, and gently put the little pups into the basket one by one. He covered them with a straw hat and headed up the mountain.
      The four little yellow-hairs together weren’t light, and Millet’s hands got numb carrying the basket. He finally found the cave, gently picked up the little yellow-hairs and reluctantly put them into the nest one by one. All of a sudden he noticed the dragon dog standing not far away, staring at him.
      He was so scared that he turned around and ran down the mountain. After a few steps, though, he got up his courage and looked back. He saw the dragon dog approaching the cave step by step. It turned around and howled at Millet a few times, then dived into the cave.
      Little Yellow-Hair was finally back with his mother. Millet clapped his hands and jumped for joy.
      When his father saw Millet coming home sweating, he asked, “Where's Little Yellow-Hair?”
      “I took them back to the cave.” Millet happily recounted the scene of the mother dragon dog's reunion with her children.
      Dad abruptly became serious. “Why’d you take them back?” he asked kindly.
      Millet hesitated for a Moment before stammering, “If they didn't eat or drink, they’d starve to death. I thought it’d be better for them to be with their mother....”
      “Good boy. You did the right thing.” He hugged Millet and said, “Go change into clean clothes. In a while I’ll take you to town to get something good to eat.” Millet didn’t quite know what to think. He didn't understand why Dad was choked up and had tears in his eyes.
      Millet was jittery as he followed his father out of the house. His mother followed them out the door and burst into tears as she watched them leave.
      It so happened that his parents had two daughters but had always wanted a son. His mother couldn’t get pregnant again, however. Later, the couple went to work in the city. One day a co-worker handed a child to Dad and said, “Aren't you missing a boy? Here’s one that doesn’t have a mother to raise him.”
      Dad took the child without thinking it through. He gave the co-worker several thousand yuan as a thank-you fee. Mom took the child in her arms but felt that something wasn’t right. She demanded that Dad ask his co-worker for clarification, but they found that the guy had disappeared.
      Whose child was it? They took the boy home and named him Millet, but Mom never got over her worry that something was wrong with what they’d done.
      In the end, Dad took Millet to the police station. He explained the situation and gave the police clues to help them find the man who’d sold them the child. He wanted to help Millet find his biological mother.

Text at p. 270. Translated from 羊城晚报 at
https://ep.ycwb.com/epaper/ycwb/html/2023-06/28/content_18_582526.htm