Big Breasts & Wipe Hips: A Novel

carried the straw onto the bridge until it stood waist high. White moths carried along with the straw flitted around the area; some fell into the water and wound up in the bellies of fish, others were snapped up by swallows.
    “Douse the straw with the liquor!” Sima Ku ordered.
    The servants picked up the baskets and, struggling mightily, carried them up onto the bridge. After pulling out the stoppers, they poured the liquor onto the straw, beautiful, high-octane liquor whose fragrance intoxicated an entire section of river. The straw rustled. Rivulets of liquor spread across the bridge and down to the stone facing, where it puddled before showering into the river, becoming a cascade by the time all twelve baskets were empty, and washing the stone facing clean. The straw changed color, a transparent sheet of liquor falling into the water below, and before long, little white fish were popping up on the surface. Laidi’s sisters wanted to wade out into the river and scoop up the drunken fish, but she stopped them: “Stay away from there! We’re going home!”
    But they were mesmerized by the activity on the bridge. In fact, Laidi was as curious as they were, and even as she tried to drag her sisters away, her gaze kept returning to the bridge, where Sima Ku stood, smugly clapping his hands; his eyes lit up and a smile creased his face. “Who else could have devised such a brilliant strategy?” he crowed to the servants. “No one but me, damn it! Come on, you little Nips, get a taste of my might!”
    The servants roared in response. “Second Steward, shall we light it now?” one asked.
    “No, not until they arrive.”
    The servants escorted Sima Ku over to the bridgehead and the Felicity Manor wagon headed back to the village. The only sound was of liquor dripping into the river.
    Shrimp basket in hand, Laidi led her sisters to the top of the dike, parting the shrubbery that grew on the slope on her way up. Suddenly, a skinny, black face materialized in the brush in front of her. With a shriek, she dropped the basket, which bounced on the springy shrubbery and rolled all the way down to the edge of the water, spilling the shrimp, a shimmering, squirming mass. Lingdi ran down to pick up the basket, while her sisters went after the shrimp. As Laidi retreated toward the river, she kept her eyes fixed on that black face, on which an apologetic smile appeared, exposing two rows of teeth that shone like pearls. “Don’t be afraid, little sister,” she heard him say softly. “We’re guerrilla fighters. Don’t scream. Just get away from here as fast as you can.”
    Looking around, she spotted dozens of men in green clothing hiding in the shrubs, hard looks in their staring eyes; some were armed with rifles, others held grenades, and others still carried rusty swords. The man behind the dirty, smiling face held a steel blue pistol in his right hand and a shiny, ticking object in his left. It wasn’t until much later that she learned that the object was a pocket-sized timepiece; by that time, she was already sharing her bed with the dark-faced man.
6
    Third Master Fan, drunk as a lord, walked grumbling into the Shangguan house. “The Japanese are on their way. Bad timing by this donkey of yours. But what can I say, since it was my horse that impregnated her? Whoever hangs the bell on the tiger’s neck must take it off. Shangguan Shouxi, I see you’ve got enough face to pull this off, oh shit, what face do you have? I’m only here because of your mother. She and I… ha ha … she made a hoof-scraper for my horses …” Shangguan Shouxi, his face covered with sweat, followed Third Master Fan in the door.
    “Fan Three!” Shangguan Lü cried out. “You bastard, the local god makes a rare appearance!”
    Feigning sobriety, Third Master Fan announced, “Fan Three has arrived.” But the sight of the donkey lying on the floor turned him from completely drunk to half sober. “My god, would you look at that! Why didn’t you send for me earlier?” He tossed his leather saddlebag to the floor, bent down to stroke the donkey’s ears, and patted its belly. Then he went around to the animal’s rear, where he tugged on the leg protruding from the birth canal. Straightening up, he shook his head sadly, and said, “I’m too late, it’s a lost cause. Last year, when your son brought the donkey over for mating, I told him the donkey was too scrawny, and that you should mate it with one of its own. But he