kind of oath is that? What does a pain in your wife’s belly have to do with anything?” “Are you joking? Any time her belly starts to hurt, my heart aches and I end up bawling like a baby.” “All right, then,” Uncle He said, “I’ll tell you.” He took a look out on the street to make sure that no one was listening. Rain was sheeting off of eaves, a curtain of white. I pressed him to tell me. “We must be very careful,” he said. “If somebody hears us, you’ll never get your treasure.” He leaned over and put his burning lips up to my ear. “Your wife goes to see His Eminence every day,” he whispered. “His bed is covered by a tiger skin, and what are the chances of not finding a tiger’s whisker on a complete pelt? Now, pay attention. Have your wife pluck a curly golden whisker for you. Those, my friend, are the real treasures. None of the others are any good.”
When my wife returned home from delivering the dog meat, the night sky was inky black. “Why are you so late?” With a smile, she said, “Use your head, you poor fool. I had to wait till His Eminence ate every bite. And don’t forget, it’s raining, so it gets dark early. Why haven’t you lit the lamp?” “I’m not doing needlework, and I’m not reading, so why waste the oil?” “My dear Xiaojia, you’re all about getting by, aren’t you? A little bit of oil won’t make the difference between rich and poor. And we’re certainly not poor. My gandieh told me that from this year on, we’re exempt from paying taxes. Go ahead, light the lamp.” So I lit the bean-oil lamp, and she adjusted the wick with one of her hairpins, flooding the room with bright, holiday-like light. I saw that her face was red and her eyes were moist, the way she looked when she was drinking. “Have you been drinking?” “Greedy cats have pointy noses,” she said. “My gandieh was afraid I’d be cold on the way home, so he gave me what little was left in his flask. It was pouring out there, as if the River of Heaven had been diverted to earth. Now turn around; I’m going to change into dry clothes.” “Why? What you need is to climb into a nice warm bed.” “Now, that’s a good idea,” she said with a giggle. “Who’d dare call our Xiaojia a fool? No, he’s brilliant!” With that she began undressing, throwing one item of clothing after another into a wooden tub, until she stood there, milky white, like a luscious eel just out of the water. She arched her back and hopped up onto the heated bed, then arched it again and slipped under the covers. I stripped and climbed in beside her. But she rolled herself up in the bedding. “Don’t bother me, my young fool; I’ve been running around so much today I can barely keep my bones attached to my body.” “I won’t bother you,” I said, “but you have to promise something. I want you to get me a tiger’s whisker.” Again she giggled. “Where, my little fool, am I going to find you a tiger’s whisker?” “Somebody said you could get one. I want a curly one with a golden-yellow tip.” Her face turned bright red. “What son of a bitch told you that? I’ll flay his dog hide right off him! Give me the name of the bastard who put you up to this!” “You’ll have to kill me first. I’ve sworn on your belly not to tell. If I say who it was, your belly is going to hurt.” She just shook her head. “You poor fool, your niang was teasing you. Use your head. Things like that don’t happen in this world.” “Other people can tease me, but not my niang. I want a tiger’s whisker; I’ve wanted one all my life, so help me get one, I beg you.” “Where am I going to do that?” She was getting angry. “And a curly one, at that. You’re not a fool, you’re a big fool!” “The person told me that Eminence Qian uses a tiger pelt as a bedspread, and where there’s a tiger pelt, there must be tiger’s whiskers.” “Xiaojia,” she said with a heavy sigh, “Xiaojia, what do you expect me to say to that?” “Help me get one. I’m begging you. If you won’t