of the hailstones and put it in my mouth. As I move it round to keep it from freezing my mucous membranes, it rattles against my teeth. A fox, whose rain-soaked coat gives it a gaunt, scruffy appearance, pauses in the doorway, a sad, pitiful look in its slitted eyes, but before I can react it scurries into the temple and disappears behind the clay idol. It doesn't take long for the rank smell of wet fur to fill the air. I don't find the smell unpleasant, because I‘ve encountered a fox before. I'll talk about that later. Back home, for a while, there was a craze over raising foxes. By then the foxes had lost their legendary mystique, though they still seemed furtive and mysterious; even in cages they were capable of stealth and magical powers. Until, that is, the village butchers began slaughtering them like pigs, like dogs, to be skinned and eaten. Once the foxes could no longer display their reputed supernatural qualities, the legends about them died. Outside, the peals of thunder have turned to crackles, sounds of fury, and wave after wave of scorched air tumbles into the temple, making me tremble with fear and jogging my memory about the legend of the Thunder God smiting sinful beasts and humans. Could this fox have been one of those sinning beasts? If so, then taking refuge here in the temple is like hiding in a strongbox, for the Thunder God will not flatten the temple, no matter how angry he becomes or how violently the Heavenly Dragon writhes, isn't that right? The Wutong Spirit is, in fact, five transcendent beasts. God has permitted them to become divine spirits and has erected a temple to house their iconic representations. They can thus enjoy the worshipful attendance of humans as well as their supply of wonderful food and beautiful women. Why then can't that fox become one of them? Look, another fox has slunk into the temple. I couldn't tell if the first one was male or female but this one is obviously a female, a pregnant one at that. How do I know? Because her sagging belly and swollen teats brush against the wet doorjamb as she slips in. That and her movements, which are less agile than those of her predecessor. Could the first one be her mate? If so, they're safe now, for nothing is fairer than natural law, and heavenly justice will never bring harm to a fox foetus. Little by little the hailstone in my mouth melts, until it's gone, just as the Wise Monk opens his eyes a crack and looks at me. He seems not to have noticed the foxes, nor is he aware of the sounds of wind, thunder and rain out in the yard, which reminds me of the great divide between us. All right, I'll keep talking—
POW! 3
The north wind was howling that morning, drawing loud complaints from the fire in the stove. The sheet metal lining the bottom of the flue turned bright red and grey metal filings flew off in bursts. The frost covering the walls was transformed into crystalline beads of water not quite ready to slither to the floor. The chilblains on my hands and feet itched and pus oozed from my ears. The melting of humans is a painful process. Mother, who had prepared corn congee in an undersized metal wok, about half full, selected a turnip from the pickling jar outside the kitchen window, broke it in two and handed me the larger piece. That would be our breakfast. I knew she'd saved at least three thousand RMB in the bank, apart from the two thousand she'd lent Shen Gang, a barbecued-meat vendor, at 20 per cent interest a month (a textbook case of usury, with compound interest). How could I be happy eating that kind of breakfast, given the amount of money we had? But I was a ten-year-old boy whose opinion didn't count. Oh, I complained sometimes, but those complaints were invariably met with looks of distress followed by a tongue-lashing over my youthful ignorance. Mother would tell me she was being frugal for my benefit, so that one day I could buy a house and a car, which in turn would make it easier for her to find me a wife.
‘Son,’ she'd say, ‘that heartless father of yours abandoned us, and I have to show him what I'm made of. I want people in the village to see that