who doesn’t take me up on it is the product of a horse-humping donkey!”
Angered by the argument, Xiaojia put a stop to it:
“I’ll screw the life out of any woman who tries to take my dieh away!”
Aunty Wu’s flat face turned bright red. Known in the neighborhood as an inveterate gossip and rumormonger, she knew all about my dealings with Magistrate Qian, and was so full of sour jealousy that her teeth itched. After being humiliated by me and cursed by Xiaojia until her bunghole itched, she stormed off in a huff, muttering to herself. I walked up the stone steps and turned back to the crowd. “Come on in, good neighbors, for a really good look. If you don’t want to, then get your dung beetle asses out of here and stop being so damned nosy!” Soundly embarrassed, they left. I knew they spoke of me in glowing terms to my face and gnashed their teeth, cursing me, behind my back. They’d have liked nothing better than to see me singing in the street to fill my belly. Appealing to their better instincts and treating them with courtesy was a waste of time.
Once inside the yard, I commented loudly, “I wonder which heavenly spirit has dropped into our world? Let’s see, maybe I can broaden my mind.” This was no time to be genteel. I needed to give him a firm warning, whether he was a real gongdieh or not, to let him know who he was dealing with and to keep him from trying to lord it over me in the future. A gaunt old man with a scrawny queue was bent over carefully dusting a purple sandalwood armchair with gold inlay and a silk pad. The wood was so highly polished and dust-free I could have seen my reflection in it. He straightened up slowly when he heard my blustery entrance, turned, and sized me up coolly. Mother dear! His sunken, furtive eyes were colder than the steel of Xiaojia’s butcher knife. My husband stumbled across the yard and, with a foolish laugh, said ingratiatingly:
“This is my wife, Dieh. Niang made the match for me.”
Without even looking at me, the old wretch emitted a throaty, indecipherable noise.
Just then, the carriage driver, who had eaten a big meal and washed it down at Wang Sheng’s restaurant across the way, walked into the yard to say goodbye. The old wretch handed him a silver certificate and gestured politely to show his gratitude.
“Have a safe trip, driver,” he said in fine-sounding cadence.
Well, the old wretch spoke the standard Peking dialect! Like Magistrate Qian. When the driver saw the amount printed on the bill, his scrunched-up little face blossomed like a flower. He bowed deeply, not once but three times, and repeated rapidly:
So, old wretch, you have an interesting background! None but a rich man hands out money that freely, and those bulges inside your jacket must hide wads more. Certificates worth a thousand ounces? Maybe even ten thousand! All right, then. Anyone with breasts can be my niang, and anyone with money can be my dieh. I got down on my hands and knees to kowtow with a good, loud banging of my head.
“Your obedient daughter-in-law respectfully welcomes the father of her husband!” I intoned in a stage voice.
Xiaojia could not follow my lead fast enough. He banged his head on the ground but said nothing, for he was too busy chortling.
The old wretch, thrown off balance by my excessive show of courtesy, reached out—I was struck dumb by the sight of his hands; what strange hands they were—as if he wanted to help me to my feet. But he did not; nor did he assist his son. He just said:
“No need for that. After all, we’re family.”
Stung by the snub, I stood up, and so did Xiaojia. The old wretch reached under his jacket, which made my heart race in wild anticipation of being rewarded with a handful of silver certificates. It seemed to take him forever to find what he was looking for, but he finally produced a small jade-green object, which he held out to me.
“I don’t have much to give you on this, our first meeting,” he said. “So take this little bauble.”
As I accepted the gift, I parroted his earlier comment: “There’s no need to give me anything. After all, we’re family.” It felt heavy in my hand, but supple and smooth, and it