Chapter Sixty-Six: Betrayal

When we arrived at the cemetery, several distant aunts were already there. These relatives didn’t visit often, so after exchanging greetings, I went down to burn paper money. It must have been too cold, because someone had started a bonfire over there. The fat man was warming himself by the fire while I went through the motions of kneeling and bowing, all the formalities, before getting ready to leave. Who’d want to linger here during the New Year, after all?

According to custom, my great-uncle’s son—my cousin—had to keep vigil at the grave until sunrise. Some guests from afar wouldn’t arrive until New Year’s morning, so he had to wait until the last one had paid their respects. The grave itself looked rather pitiful. All around were cement tombs, some adorned with ceramic tiles, but my great-uncle’s was just a mound of yellow earth. I muttered under my breath, in a voice only I could hear, “What’s the point of having so many children if you end up living in a dump like this?”

“I’m cold,” came a faint voice, eerily similar to the one I’d heard on the road earlier. I looked up with a start, and there, sitting atop the mound of yellow earth, was an old man with a bluish complexion, huddled up and staring at me.

It was the very image of my great-uncle from his portrait! I realized then that I was finally seeing him. Glancing down, I observed the others—his children—were chatting and laughing, cracking sunflower seeds, some playing cards with the fat man by the fire.

I said nothing, but made my way to my second cousin, who was chatting nearby. “Cousin Quan, I had a dream about Great-Uncle last night.”

He grinned at me. “Hey, Yi, I heard you’re doing well lately. How about taking your uncle south to make some money when spring comes?”

I answered seriously, “I’m telling you, I dreamed about Great-Uncle.”

“Oh? What did you dream?”

I glanced back at the grave. The figure was still there. “He said he’s cold down there. Shouldn’t you burn him a few extra sets of clothes?”

“Clothes? Oh, come on, you’re just like your grandfather, believing in all this nonsense. The man’s dead—what’s the point in fussing over these things?” He lit a cigarette, glancing contemptuously at the grave. “You don’t understand. We farmers at home aren’t like you who do business outside. We’re poor. I didn’t even make new clothes for myself this New Year, let alone burn any for him. That’s starving the living to save face for the dead!”

I knew continuing the conversation would only lead to more unpleasantness. It was New Year’s Eve, and it would be wrong to start a fight. Looking at the figure on the grave, head buried between his knees, I understood it was his heart that had grown cold.

There’s a saying that it isn’t the amount of paper money burned, but the sincerity that matters. Without sincerity, all the dead receive is a pile of ash, no matter how much you burn. So I knelt down once more, carefully laying out each slip of paper and burning them slowly, murmuring as I did, “Great-Uncle, don’t worry about spending, there’s plenty here. Eat, drink, enjoy yourself—you deserve it, even in the earth. As for those unfilial descendants, drop by and visit them when you can. If you find one you like, you might as well take them with you, keep you company...”

“Let’s go,” I said to the fat man.

“Three twos!” the fat man called, still watching the card game. “Bomb!” My eldest cousin shouted excitedly, “Come on, pay up, pay up!”

My eldest cousin, cigarette dangling from his lips, smoke curling around his head, called out warmly, “Hey, Yi, why not stay and play a few hands?”

“He wouldn’t stoop to play with the likes of us!” This came from my great-uncle’s eldest son-in-law, reeking of alcohol.

I replied, not in the best of moods, “Uncle, you’ve had quite a bit to drink tonight. Did you share a few sips with your father-in-law, too?”

“This kid talks nonsense,” he laughed to those around him, then called out, “He didn’t drink anything! Before he died, he drank a whole pit of pig slop—he was full before he went!”

Maybe he was truly drunk to say something like that, but I couldn’t tell if the others had been drinking as well. All I heard was uproarious laughter—everyone seemed thoroughly entertained by his shameless remark. Just as Chen Wenbin once warned me, my biggest flaw is always sticking my neck out and meddling in other people’s business.

I slammed my hand on the table, which had originally been for offerings but was now being used for cards, and said with a smile, “It’s New Year’s, so I wish you all a speedy journey down there. Your father-in-law had a message for you: people who cross the line always face retribution!”

With a crash, I flipped the card table over. The laughter stopped, and even those who had been munching sunflower seeds froze mid-bite. The dozen or so people fell silent.

My drunken uncle-in-law was the first to react, grabbing a stick by his feet and swinging at me. Unfortunately for him, the fat man was nearby. With a flick of his foot, the fat man sent him stumbling forward, then darted up, grabbing him by the back of the neck and twisting his right arm behind his back. My uncle-in-law let out a screech like a pig being slaughtered.

“I’ve never seen such heartless scum,” the fat man growled. “Come on, let your father-in-law take a good look at you—see how he picked you for his son-in-law!” With brute strength, the fat man dragged him to the grave. Looking around at the others, he barked, “Whose man is this? Where’s his wife? Step forward!”

My eldest aunt finally came to her senses and revealed her ferocious side, clawing at the fat man. “Let go of my husband! Who the hell are you to make trouble here?”

The fat man, unbothered, freed a hand, grabbed her by the shoulder, twisted his wrist, and forced the couple to face my great-uncle’s grave. With a shove to the backs of their knees, both of them dropped to the ground, kneeling.

He ignored their curses, pressing their heads to the earth three times, hard. The ground was covered in ashes from burnt paper money, and when they rose, both looked like charcoal-faced judges.

“These three bows are for your outrageous words and actions!”

The fat man seized the dazed couple, ready to continue, when my two cousins couldn’t bear it any longer and rushed over. But the fat man, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, tossed the couple aside, spun around, and with two sharp kicks, landed blows to their bellies. He wore the most popular high-top combat boots of the day, and my cousins collapsed to their knees, unable to even groan. The fat man sneered, “Don’t kneel so soon. I’ll get to you in a moment.”

He turned back to the couple, grabbed them by the scruff, and slammed their foreheads to the ground three more times. “These three are for all the grain your father wasted raising such brutes!”

After that, no one else dared move. The fat man bellowed, “What are you all waiting for? Those who should be kneeling, kneel! Those who should be crying, cry! What a disgraceful lot!” With that, he knelt down himself. “Old man, sorry for stepping in to discipline your unfilial children. Forgive us for disturbing your New Year’s rest.”

The fat man and I left the mountain together. The road was quiet; there were no more strange sounds. Back home, I collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

In our hometown, nobody pays New Year visits on the first day of the lunar year. There’s a custom: on the first day, you should rest at home, or you’ll spend the whole year busy. So generally, no one comes to visit on the first.

Half-asleep, I heard firecrackers. Not unusual for New Year’s Day. I rolled over, intent on sleeping more, when there was a knock at the door. Outside, my father shouted, “Get up, get up, hurry up, something’s happened!”

I pulled on my clothes and got up. At the door, my father stormed in, “Did you cause trouble last night?”

“Nothing much. They deserved it. Why are they coming to you at dawn to settle scores?”

“You—you’ve caused a real mess this time!” My father’s hand, raised in anger, fell back down in resignation. “Hurry! Someone from your great-uncle’s family died early this morning. Your eldest uncle-in-law fell into a cesspit—just like his father-in-law.”

I immediately sensed things had taken a bad turn, but replied, “What’s that got to do with me?”

My father sighed, “You’ll understand when you get there. When there are more people around, mind your words. I’ll go with you. And your friend had best stay here—if things get ugly, you could be beaten to death and not even know it!”

“Oh, beaten to death, is it?” The fat man got up too, obviously having heard our exchange. Straightening his clothes, he smiled. “That’s a good thing! That’s called just deserts! Nothing makes the New Year more satisfying than this—justice served on the first day. Heaven has eyes!”

He said, “Good night, and don’t forget to vote!”