Chinese Stories in English
Stories Magazine (Page 05)
Stories from Stories Magazine Compilation #145 《故事会合订本145》上海文化出版社
Page citation and link to online Chinese text noted after each story.
1. Stinky Feet 4. Blind Man’s Produce Shop READER SUBMISSIONS
2. Eternal Greenery 5. Best Offer 6. A Peculiar Painting
3. Bran Ball 7. Where the Patients Are
1. Stinky Feet (臭脚)
Gao Wendao (高文刀)
Strong and Little Zheng were good buddies. They worked together at a construction site.
Strong's feet were very sweaty, especially after a day's work. The smell of his shoes could kill mosquitoes. That’s why no one wanted to room with him, which left him feeling lonely.
Little Zheng told Strong, “It's okay, bro’. You can room with me, if you think it’d be tolerable. The only thing is, you’d just have a small bed in the middle of the room, so you’d have to squeeze in.”
Strong was touched by the offer. “Thanks. You really are a good brother to me.”
Little Zheng also had a problem, though. Namely, he couldn't control his drinking and would get high as soon as he took a drink. Now that Strong was living with him, the big guy would always carry him back to their room and help him take off his shoes. Strong would tidy up and go to bed only after Little Zheng was sound asleep.
Strong would have to clean Little Zheng's vomit off his shoes every morning when he woke up. When Little Zheng saw him, he’d get embarrassed and say, “I'm sorry, bro’. I drank too much yesterday and couldn't hold it back.”
Later, Strong noticed that every time Little Zheng threw up, he’d roll over to face him, lower his head and vomit in the shoes Strong had left beside the bed. He thought about it and came up with an idea....
Little Zheng asked Strong to have a drink with him a few days later. Strong agreed right away.
Little Zheng got drunk again that night. Strong helped him to bed, waited for him to fall asleep, then quietly switched the position of their shoes.
Strong was flabbergasted the next morning. Little Zheng had vomited into his shoes again. Strong was furious. Little Zheng was obviously doing it on purpose!
Strong woke Little Zheng up and complained, “Why’d you throw up in my shoes again?”
Little Zheng was mortified. He scratched his head and answered, “Used to be that this weird stink would rush straight to my head when I turned over. It made me upchuck right away. Last night, I could feel it coming again, but I realized that the stink was on the other side, so I turned back over....”
Chinese Text at 《故事会合订本145》 p. 1-94. Also here.
Translated from 多彩大学生网 at http://www.dcdxsw.com/xywx/dpxs/29708.html
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2. The Eternal Greenery (永远的那丛翠绿)
Yuan Liangcai (袁良才)
The warm winter sun snuck in through the window and nestled gently on Grandma’s face, trying with all its strength to pry open her heavy eyelids and replenish the light of life that was dying within her. Her face looked as wrinkled as a loofa gourd.
She lay lightly on the carved wooden bed that had been her partner for the better part of her life. Her spirit appeared to be completely at ease, not in the least afraid of dying. It seemed that she was waiting to enter an unknown world, and even anticipated it a bit.
She’d refused to go back to the hospital for this bout of illness. She’d told her grandson, Patriot, “I should pass on, should’ve passed long ago. Your Grandpa’s waiting for me on the other side! I’m afraid he won’t recognize me. I was a young girl of seventeen back then, with beautiful hair that captivated him….”
“Don’t think such nonsense, Grandma,” Patriot urged her. “You’ll be OK once you get past this. You can live another ten years, no problem.”
Grandma brushed him off. “Silly boy, “she retorted, “I’d already lived long enough years ago. Your mom and dad both went before me. A superstitious person would say I stole some of their lifespan. I’m an old Communist, so of course I don’t believe that, but I don’t feel good about it, either. Just let me depart at home and not waste money on a hospital. It’s called ‘Dying a natural death’, and it’s a good thing. I’m afraid your Grandpa will be anxious from waiting so long. If he’s a mind to, he’ll find someone else!”
Patriot had done what she wanted. He and his wife took turns caring for the old lady at home. They knew in their heart that she didn’t have much time left.
Grandma was so weak that she couldn’t even keep down a couple of mouthfuls of porridge, but one day she made a fuss about wanting some steamed bread. Patriot had his wife steam some for an extra-long time. Grandma mustered up as much strength as it would take to drink milk and, for better or worse, gnawed off a couple of bites. “Delicious! Delicious!” she said, repeating herself. “Delectable fragrance!”
A few days later, Grandma grumbled about wanting wild herbs. Patriot and his wife knitted their brows, but he was quick to follow up on her request. His head bobbed like a chicken pecking at rice grains when he told her, “OK, OK. Tomorrow I’ll personally drive to the suburbs to pick some. Lots of them are in season: asters, Boswellia, crown daisies…. I normally like to change flavors, too, when I get tired of eating too much fish or meat!”
The strange thing was, Grandma’s health took a turn for the better after she drank a few sips of wild herb soup. She could actually sit up for a while with her back resting on a stack of quilts. Patriot and his wife were pleased but disturbed as well; was she recovering and out of danger, or was it the last radiance of the setting sun?
Grandma grew even less quiet. She pestered her grandson like a small child, requesting that he run off to the market and buy her a pot of sweet sedge to place on the windowsill. She said that she and Grandpa both liked the stuff – it was so green and fragrant, they couldn’t get enough of looking at it and smelling it!
Patriot and his wife were rather unprepared for what came next. They looked at one another in consternation as they listened to Grandma’s haltering voice begin to recite from some poem or other:*
“Winter greens growing in a stone pot,
“The same in June as in midwinter.
“Don’t say it’s a few inches of greenery,
“It signifies a pine a thousand yards tall.
“With the strong stalk of a solitary bamboo,
“And roots twisted like an ancient Dragon,
“Defying the frost, inspiring righteousness,
“As its tears trickle into the colorful spring….”
Patriot’s mind misted over as he listened. Grandma laughed lightly. She seemed bashful when she said, “Your Grandpa taught me that back in the day. It’s called ‘Sweet Sedge’ by the Song Dynasty poet Zhang Jiucheng.”
Patriot shook like he’d suffered an electric shock. He spun around, rubbed his eyes and tramped out, “thunk, thunk, thunk”. The sound of a car engine soon filled the room.
It wasn’t long before a pot of green-leafed sweet sedge was placed on the windowsill in Grandma’s room. Fragments of sunlight chased and played lightheartedly on the tips of the leaves. Grandma leaned quietly against the head of the bed for a long time, entranced, staring calmly and at length through the green mist. Tears spilled soundlessly from her eyes, drip-dripping onto the pillowcase until it was soaking wet.
Grandma muttered to herself as if in a dream. “Your grandpa said that sweet sedge is like a scholar: **
‘Needs not the sun to show its colors,
‘Needs only an inch of soil to grow,
‘Tolerant of the bitter cold,
‘Indifferent to wealth and fame.’
“Back then we ran a store in the area occupied by Japan, selling goods from southern China. Our leader gave us ten silver dollars a month for expenses, but your grandpa forced me to pinch pennies. He hated it if we couldn’t stretch a buck eight different ways. We rarely had rice to eat and got by on steamed buns or wild vegetables. Grandpa said that we party members shouldn’t think we could spend the party's money recklessly just because we’d done things for the party.
One weekend great-granddaughter Red Inheritance, a tour guide at the Revolutionary History Museum, came home to see her great-grandmother. She made it a point to bring an expensive orchid for the old lady and was excited all the way home, imagining how happy she’d be to get such a precious gift.
As luck would have it, Grandma had just fallen asleep when Red arrived and was sleeping as soundly as if she might never wake up. Red naturally felt a little upset. She carefully moved the sweet sedge from the windowsill to the living room and whispered to her parents, “This thing’s too old school. It’ll be better if I put this expensive orchid in its place. It’ll definitely cheer Great-Grandma up when she wakes up. Might even cure her illness.”
Great-Grandma didn’t “cheer up” when she woke up. Her expression soured and she “glowered” at Red, her breathing rapid. She wanted Red to remove the orchid and put the sweet sedge back right away. Red had to do it, but she felt so wronged that she shed tears.
Much later, when Great-Grandma finally calmed down, she whispered in Red's ear, “Great-Grandpa and I were a revolutionary couple, and the store we ran was a secret contact station. The contact code settled on by Great-Grandpa was: sweet sedge on windowsill meant all was well; an orchid meant ‘Danger, can’t make
contact.’ Grandpa said, ‘sedge’ is a homophone of “normal” in our dialect, meaning ‘all’s well’; ‘orchid’ is pronounced like ‘difficult’, meaning ‘disaster’.
“One day a secret contact was scheduled, and the person in charge sent a special agent. A man arrived at our store unexpectedly and said there was important military intelligence that needed to be handed over to someone in his ‘hometown’ in northern Jiangsu ASAP. Your Great-Grandpa saw that the visitor had an unusual look on his face and noticed that there were suspicious people wandering around in groups of two or three outside the store, so he alertly told me: ‘Go out the back door and buy some fish and meat and other dishes!’ He pushed me out the door before I knew what was going on. He also saw that the time for the scheduled meeting had come, so he rushed to the windowsill and knocked down the pot of sweet sedge.
“Great-Grandpa was brutally murdered in the Jap invaders’ prison, while the organization redeployed me to the anti-Japanese base in central Jiangsu Province. In the civil war between the Communisis and the Nationalists, I participated in the Huaihai Campaign, the Yangtze River Crossing Campaign, and the Ningxia Campaign. Because of my love and longing for your Great-Grandpa, I persevered in our common ideals all along.”
This story was embedded deeply in Red’s heart. She returned to her unit and told it to visitors to the History Museum. She also repeated it all the guests at the ceremony to bid farewell to Great-Grandma. When she spoke of the day Great-Grandma was “angry” because she replaced the sweet sedge with an orchid, however, she still felt regretful and aggrieved.
One day when Patriot was home on the balcony taking care of the pot of sweet sedge, he noticed his daughter Red staring at the plant in a daze. He thought about it and said, “Great-Grandma wasn’t averse to the orchid you gave her. I guess, at the time, she must’ve been anticipating that your Great-Grandfather would come to pick her up! She hoped he’d see the sweet sedge on our windowsill be assured it was safe to come.…”
Chinese text at 《故事会合订本145》p. 2-10. Also here.
*菖蒲 by 张九成 (1092-1159). Your translator isn’t a poet and this rendering can certainly be improved upon. Please send us a better one so we can revise the translation.
**Apologies also for the translation of this quote from Song Dynasty poet Su Dongpo 苏东坡(1037-1101). See here.
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3. A Bran Ball (一个糖团)
Wang Ximing (王喜明)
At dusk, the Prime Minister heard the news that the king was nowhere to be found!
Shocked, he summoned the imperial guards and, as quickly as possible, sent troops all around the palace to search every corner carefully. They didn’t find even half a shadow of the king. The Prime Minister had in the past secretly accompanied the king outside the palace to wander about at leisure, and when he remembered that, he led the guards out of the palace and into the city to search.
Only one street ran through the city. It connected the east and west sides, and the imperial palace stood at the eastern end. The Prime Minister led the guards westward to search along the street.
The first thing the Prime Minister thought of was the most popular brothel in the city, “Springtime Meanderings”. Although the king lived a pleasant life of ease, including lavish banquets, he did get tired of such things after a while, so on occasion he and the Prime Minister would dress up as businessmen and go to “Springtime Meanderings” to enjoy themselves. The Prime Minister wondered, could the king have gone there to have some fun on his own? He led the imperial guards to check out the place but found that it had long been in decline. The king was not there.
So where could he have gone? The Prime Minister racked his brains until he thought of a certain plainly furnished tavern. Could the king be there? Once, when the king got tired of the delicacies produced by the imperial kitchen, he and the Prime Minister had gone there disguised as commoners. They found seats in a quiet corner and ordered just a plate of fried peanuts, a plate of soy sauce beef, and two pots of the tavern’s own “lightly warmed” beverage. The two of them ate and drank with gusto.
The Prime Minister led the imperial guards to the tavern as soon as he remembered it, but to no avail. It turned out that the place had been closed long ago. All that was left was a rotten wooden board nailed across the door. Not even a mouse was there, let alone the king!
Standing there in the city, thinking so hard that his brain had turned to mush, the Prime Minister couldn’t imagine where the king had gone. Then, all of a sudden, an idea flashed in his mind. Could it be that the king had gone there?
Without further ado, the Prime Minister led the imperial guards to a gambling house on the west side of the city. One evening when the king had had enough of “cricket fighting” and “cock fighting” in the palace, he’d ordered the Prime Minister to accompany him there to play “dice casting”. They’d played the simplest game, where the players would guess the numbers on each throw, and the bets could be large or small.
The other gamblers had never seen such a rich and cool-headed player. The whole casino came to watch the king and an old gambler “casting dice”, and the crowd cheered as if it were a big show. The king had a great time and was ecstatic. He played until dawn, losing all the money he’d brought with him, before returning to the palace reluctantly and in a daze.
But the Prime Minister and the imperial guards were shocked when they got to the gambling house. They looked at each other in consternation because the hall had become a garbage dump at some point. The entire place stunk.
The sun was setting and the night was turning dark in the city. The Prime Minister was beside himself with anxiety when he happened to notice two tramps begging at a street corner. From a distance, the taller figure looked very much like the king.
The Prime Minister promptly ran over and stopped the two beggars. He carefully examined the taller of the two in the dim evening light and finally recognized him. He dropped to one knee, “thump”, and cried out, “Your Majesty, I’ve finally found you!”
It turned out that the king had been bored in the palace, so he and his personal guard put on rags, smeared soot on their faces, grasped sticks in their hands to beat dogs off, and pretended to be vagrants begging for food. The Prime Minister didn't know whether to laugh or cry as he expeditiously escorted the king back to the palace.
In the brightly lit throne room, the Prime Minister knelt before the king after he’d changed out of his beggar's attire. “My dear man,” the king said, “I appreciate your loyalty. Here, take this high-fiber bran ball that I got with considerable effort by begging!”
The Prime Minister went home in high spirits. He said to his wife, as he took the bran ball from his breast pocket, “My Lady, please come and share this gift from the king with me!”
His wife had to laugh. “Dear, this is dog food I made for our watchdog this evening. Two beggars came to the door and I felt sorry for them, so I gave them one. Why would the king come around begging for food like a vagrant?”
Chinese text at 《故事会合订本145》p. 2-13. Also here.
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4. Blind Man’s Produce Shop (盲人果蔬铺)
Zhang Three (丈三)
Old Song ran a fruit and vegetable shop in the City Center Produce Market. His vision was getting increasingly blurred because of cataracts, which seriously affected his business. Among other things, he had to go to the hospital for checkups every four or five days. Over time he became unable to make ends meet and couldn’t afford the rent for the city center stall. He had to move to the Western Suburbs Produce Market where the rent was cheaper.
Old Song didn’t relish the idea of moving. He’d worked in the downtown market for half his life. He’d lose all his old customers by moving, so it seemed his life would be more difficult. But when he actually did move, he found that things were not at all what he thought they’d be – his business was even better than before!
It turned out that a white fog had developed on his eyeballs and everyone thought he was blind. Customers who came to buy produce would say things like, “Please keep your seat. I see the plastic bags and will pack them myself!” Or “Take it easy. I want you to be here tomorrow when I come to buy more produce….”
Even Old Liu, the owner of the stall next door, would jump up to help him arrange his display when he was setting up the stall. That’s why the produce on his stall was always sold out shortly after noon. He became the first person in the area to close his stall every day.
Before long, Old Song had earned enough money to pay for cataract surgery. His vision returned to normal shortly after he had the operation.
Old Song was unhappy despite the fact that his eyesight had been restored. He knew that customers were so supportive because they thought he was blind and sympathized with him. Now that he had normal vision, would his business be as good as before? So he decided to pretend to be a “blind man” in order to preserve his business.
The next time Old Song went to set up his stall, he walked with a cane and wore a pair of sunglasses. Old Liu from the neighboring stall saw him coming and came over to help right away. “What have you been doing recently?” he asked.
Old Song concealed the fact that he had undergone surgery. “My old back problem came back,” he said vaguely. “I stayed home for a few days to recuperate.”
Old Song was quite pleased with Old Liu's concern and care. For one thing, he appreciated the man's help. Old Song had no relatives, so throughout his life he’d been on his own when trying to outwit the Urban Control cops in setting up his stall or squabbling with customers over a few pennies. The kind of selfless help he got from Old Liu, as warm as though they were relatives, was something he’d never experienced before. For another thing, he felt that Old Liu’s behavior proved his disguise as a “blind man” was a success, because even the people around him hadn’t discovered the truth.
However, while he was still immersed in these feelings of satisfaction and pride, the happy expression froze on his face and his complexion changed color. He noticed what Old Liu was really doing when he helped set up the stand: He was casually swapping subpar vegetables from his stall with the best quality items on his own stall.
He was furious. “I thought Old Liu was a good man, but it turns out he was just trying to cheat me!” For the time being, though, as a “blind man”, Old Song could only watch what was going on right under his nose.
Old Song thought it over for a moment and calmed down. He couldn't expose Old Liu because he’d be exposing himself at the same time. A few defective vegetables wouldn’t have much impact on his business, though, but if the news got out that he had normal eyesight, he’d be regarded as a liar by customers and would no longer have the chutzpah to set up a stall in this area. So he just smiled and thanked Old Liu. “I’m lucky to have you around these days, Old Liu. Thanks for treating me so kindly.”
Old Liu waved his hand. “Please, don't be so polite. We’re both in the same business. This is how we should treat each other.”
As he’d suspected, his business wasn’t affected by a few subpar vegetables. He was still the first person to close his stall in the Western Suburbs Produce Market that day. He thought that if his business continued to do so well, he’d be able to save enough money to rent a larger space in half a year. Then he could expand his stall.
Contrary to his expectations, what happened the next day left him at a loss. Old Liu came to “help” him sort out the vegetables as usual, but he swapped out even more of the high-quality vegetables than before. If things continued on like that, his produce stand was done for!
His sales were less than half the usual amount that day, while Old Liu sold all his vegetables very quickly. Old Liu was in a good mood and decided to enjoy a relaxing smoke. His hand shook when took a cigarette from his pocket, though, and he accidentally dropped it on the damp ground. Old Song, who was wearing sunglasses, saw all this and said to himself, “Serves you right.”
Old Liu bent down to pick up the cigarette, shook off the water on it, and walked towards Old Song with a smile. “Business is tough these days, Old Song. Here, have a cigarette.”
This pushed Old Song over the edge. He stood up, grabbed Old Liu by the collar and growled, “Don't think I don't know what crap you did!”
The sudden outburst shocked Old Liu. He asked sheepishly, “You.... Can you see?”
Old Song simply took off his sunglasses and stared at Old Liu, his eyes wide open.
Old Liu caught on right away and blurted out, “You… You need to let me explain. I really wanted to help you at first, but your business was so good it was hurting my business. That’s the only reason I….”
The more Old Song heard, the angrier he got. He punched Old Liu in the face. Old Liu screamed, and people began to gather around to watch. Everyone was talking about it, and before long the entire market was in an uproar.
A lot of people came forward to stop the fight, but Old Song was so angry that he couldn’t be held back easily. In the fracas, Old Liu punched back and knocked Old Song to the ground, out cold.
They took Old Song to the hospital. When he came to, a doctor told him, “You had cataract surgery not long ago. Your eyes were fragile to begin with, and now you’ve received a blow that ruptured the lens. You’re facing blindness.”
Lying on the hospital bed, Old Song listened to the doctor’s prognosis. He was left wondering where he’d gone wrong.
Old Liu transferred his stall to Old Song as damages for the injury he’d caused. Old Song merged the two stalls and opened a true Blind Man’s Produce Shop.
A month later, a TV station did a story on the new produce shop in the Western Suburbs Market. The report attracted many locals to buy produce there. As he stood in his shop watching customers come and go, Old Song felt content. Now that he really was blind, he no longer had to worry about being exposed as a fraud.
Chinese text at 《故事会合订本145》 p. 2-17. Also here.
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5. The Best Offer (最好的出价)
Xu Jiaqing (徐嘉青)
Fresh Flower Ma from Sunny Canal Town owned a sow that had given birth to thirteen piglets. She raised them for over a month until it was time to sell them. Then she approached the trader Three Liu on the q.t. to ask him to help her sell them at a good price. Traders are middlemen who deal in livestock in rural areas. They make a living by taking commissions.
The reason she made this contact surreptitiously was that there were two traders in Sunny Canal Town: Three Liu was one and the other was Big Head Sun. People say competitors are enemies, and if you go to one of them openly, you might offend the other. Fresh didn’t want to do that.
When she saw Three, Fresh told him, “It's time to sell the piglets I have at home, Brother Three. I came here to ask you take a look and get me a good price.”
“Oh,” Three said, “I’ve seen your piglets. They’re first-rate quality. Don't worry. I’ll contact some buyers right away and try to get you a high price.”
Fresh thanked him profusely and left. When she got home, before she even had a chance to sit down, someone called to her from outside the door, “Is anyone home?”
Fresh looked out through the door curtain and was puzzled. Why? Because the person calling her was Big Head Sun. Fresh hurried out to greet him. “It's Brother Sun. What's up?”
Big Head scratched the back of his head and said, “I expect your piglets should be leaving the nest, so I thought I could help get a good price for them. I came to see if you want to sell them or not.”
Fresh wondered: “Does Big Head know I’ve gone to see Three?” But then she thought again. “The piglets are mine. I’ll sell them to whoever offers the highest price. Why shouldn’t I want to make more money?”
With this thought in mind, Fresh said, “Sell them? Why not? I’ve been thinking about it for days and was going to go have a word with you when I got some free time!”
Big Head smiled. “Okay, I'll find someone and sell them for you right away. I guarantee the price will be higher than what others offer.”
He came around again the next morning and brought a buyer with him. They went straight to the pig pen. The buyer stood outside the pen and looked over the shiny, slippery piglets inside. Then he murmured a few words to Big Head, who turned around and told Fresh, “Not bad quality….”
Before he finished speaking, they heard someone at the door calling out, “Sister, I’ve booked a buyer for you.”
They knew it was Three Liu as soon as they heard his voice. When he came inside, he looked up and saw Big Head and immediately complained, “Our behavior can't go against local custom, right, Sister? You said you wanted me to check out your piglets and set a high price, but you went behind my back and found another agent. Were you just trying to make a fool out of me?”
Fresh's face turned red. She hadn't expected such a coincidental encounter. She stood there, mouth agape, momentarily at a loss for words.
When Big Head saw what was going on, the hair on his arms stood straight up. “Selling things is the same as finding a spouse,” he said. “Find a good deal and go for it.” His voice sounded strange.
Three was worried that he wouldn’t find a place to let his anger loose, so he smiled and said, “Right you are. I just want to see how high a price you can get for the lady!”
Big Head, not to be outdone, barked, “It’ll be higher than yours, that’s for sure.” He looked over his shoulder and made some gestures to the buyer who’d come with him. “How’s this price, Old Zhang?”
A hint of hesitation flashed across the buyer's face, but he eventually nodded.
Three chuckled when he saw that. “Heh, heh, I sure can do better than that. Is that the best you can do? Miss Ma, I’ll offer two Yuan eighty a pound.”
Big Head's face then took on a look that said no sale. After a quick gesture to Old Zhang, he announced, “I'll offer three Yuan.”
Three looked askance at his opponent. “See here, Big Head,” he said, “don't be obstinate. Look at Old Zhang's face, it's about ready to turn purple as an eggplant.” He paused a moment before adding, “I'll offer three Yuan twenty.”
The muscles on Big Head's face twitched and he said, “Old Zhang, you see the position he’s taking. I have to fight fire with fire to save my reputation. I don't want any agency fee today. No matter what, you have to help me save face.” Then, without regard to whether Old Zhang would agree or not, he told Fresh loudly and clearly, “I’ll also pay three Yuan twenty, and you can let the piglets eat and drink their fill before weighing them.”
This shook Three up. He said, “I'll pay you three Yuan fifty, and you can feed them and give them water before the weighing!”
Big Head was about to raise the price again, but Old Zhang pulled on his sleeve and whispered, “If I buy at that price, I’ll lose my shirt.”
“Then what do you think we should do?” Big Head asked. “Should we give up now? Or should we try one last time?”
Old Zhang wanted to say something, but Big Head turned his head and said to Three, “I'm confused, Three. You don't have a client with you, so you're just spouting air. Old Zhang is here with me, so you know I’m talking turkey.”
“Never you mind,” Three retorted. “I’ve never gone back on my word.”
Big Head said, “Fair enough. I'll go three Yuan eighty.” He looked at Three through narrowed eyes, as if to say, “Let’s see if you’re still willing to chase me up the ladder.”
This time Three didn’t keep going. Instead he told Fresh: “Sister, if he’ll give you that much, go ahead
and sell to him.” Without waiting for her to reply, he turned to Big Head and said, “You’re too tough, Big Head. I won't fight you anymore. You can have this litter of piglets. But the bottom line is, you can’t spit out promises and then take them back. You’ve got to keep your word.” That said, Three turned around and left without waiting for a reply.
And so Fresh's litter of piglets was sold. Big Head was going to let her feed the piglets before weighing them, but she declined to do so when she saw the look on Old Zhang's face. Big Head saw it, too, and told his client, “I’ll remember this favor. If you need anything from me in the future, just let me know.” Then he leaned over and whispered something, and Old Zhang's expression finally relaxed.
Someone came to Three's house for drinks that night, someone with an unusually large head. Yes, it was Big Head. He whined, “I have to ask, Three, what were you trying to do? You asked me to bargain with you and I wasted the whole morning doing what you wanted. You… You were obviously your own client, so you didn’t make a penny for an agency fee. Not only that, you also lost more than two hundred Yuan.”
Three’s explanation made Big Head stop and think. “No one told us to be friends with Fresh's husband! When he passed, she was left alone with a child still in school. If we helped her out openly, people would gossip. We could help her secretly, though, so that’s what we did!”
Chinese text at 《故事会合订本145》 p. 2-20. Also here.
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READER SUBMISSIONS
6. A Peculiar Painting (奇特的画)
Rosary Beads (流念珠)
The boss of a company listed on the stock exchange hung a peculiar painting on his office wall – a large footprint on a white cloth background. Some people thought it was a valuable work of art, but the owner said “Its value isn’t in money. There’s a story behind this painting.”
The boss had been the manager of chain restaurant. Once he was passing by the laundry room of his restaurant and noticed a napkin on the floor in the corridor. An employee was walking towards him without paying attention and stepped on the napkin. The boss got agitated and said, “Hey, watch where you step!”
The employee was new and didn't know the boss. He curled his lip and sneered, “What's there not to step on? We’ll use high temperature and pressure to wash napkins later. After it’s washed, there’ll be no stain left at all.”
This upset the boss. “This napkin is for customers to wipe their mouths, so of course you can't step on it. If you don't have a sense of respect, it's impossible to provide the best service.”
Later the boss bought a frame for the napkin and hung it in his office. It’s because the boss serves customers with respect that his restaurant chain is doing so well.
Chinese text at 《故事会合订本145》 p. 2-48. Also here.
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7. Wherever the Patients Are (病人在哪，岗位就在哪)
Jiang Dongxu (江东旭)
Dr. Cao was riding on a high-speed train. A family of three sat in the same section: a couple with their five-year-old son, Upright. The boy spoke with a distinct nasal twang. With a doctor's concern, Dr. Cao asked his mother, “Does your child snore when he sleeps?”
Upright's mother complained, “Yes. Such a young child, but he snores every time he goes to sleep.”
Dr. Cao inquired further. “He speaks with such a heavy nasal twang. Have you taken him to the hospital for a checkup?
“Several times. The doctor said he has rhinitis, but the medicines he prescribed didn't help.”
Doctor Cao had already formed an idea, so he said to Upright's mother, “I think he may not just have rhinitis. He may have pediatric sleep apnea. If treatment is delayed for too long, it’ll affect the child's health. I suggest you take him to a large hospital for another checkup as soon as you get off the train.”
Upright's parents heeded Dr. Cao's advice and did take Upright to see a specialist. That doctor found that the boy's breathing pauses lasted more than thirty seconds when he snored, and the diagnosis was pediatric sleep apnea. This condition would not only affect his physical development, behavior and temperament, but could also make his physical appearance ugly, which would cause much harm to the child. Upright's parents were lucky. If they hadn't met the warmhearted Dr. Cao on the train, the consequences would have been disastrous.
Later the family contacted Dr. Cao to express their gratitude in person. He told them, “As the saying goes, ‘A chance meeting, like patches of drifting duckweed.’ But I do thank you for your trust in me. Treating patients is a doctor's duty. Wherever the patients are, that’s where the job is.”
Chinese text at 《故事会合订本145》 p. 2-48. Also here.