Big Breasts & Wipe Hips: A Novel

aunt muttered. “You’d think three years would be long enough to produce something.”
    At dinnertime that evening, Big Paw Yu spotted the bruises on Xuan’er’s arm. “That sort of wife-beating has no place in a modern republic,” he said angrily. “I’d like to burn that turtles’ nest of theirs to the ground!”
    “I see that not even rice can stop up that foul mouth of yours!” her aunt said as she glared at her husband.
    For a change, there was plenty of food in front of Xuan’er, but she forced herself not to overeat. Her uncle placed a large piece of fish in her bowl.
    “You know,” her aunt said, “you can’t blame your in-laws. Why does anyone take a wife? To continue the family line.”
    “You didn’t continue my family line,” her husband said, “and I’ve been good to you, haven’t I?”
    “Who asked you? Get the donkey ready so you can take Xuan’er into town to see a woman’s doctor.”
    Sitting astride the donkey, Xuan’er passed through the fields of Northeast Gaomi Township, which were crisscrossed with rivers and streams. The sun sent down blistering rays of heat, raising steam from the ground and drawing groans from the foliage around her. A pair of dragonflies, connected at the rear, darted past; a pair of swallows mated in the sky above. Baby frogs that had just shed their tails hopped across the roadway; locusts that had just emerged from eggs perched on the tips of roadside grass. A litter of newborn rabbits followed their mother in a hunt for food. Baby ducks paddled behind their mother, their tiny pink webbed feet sending ripples to the edge of a pond … rabbits and locusts can produce offspring, so why can’t I? She felt empty inside, and was reminded of the legend regarding a child-rearing bag that existed in the bellies of all women, all but hers, it seemed. Please, Matron of Sons, I beg you, give me a child …
    Even though her uncle was nearly forty, he had not lost his playfulness. Instead of holding the donkey’s halter, he let the animal trot along on its own while he ran up and down the roadside picking wild-flowers, which he made into a wreath for Xuan’er — to keep out the sun, he said. After chasing birds until he was out of breath, he went deep into the field, where he found a fist-sized wild melon, which he handed to Xuan’er. “It’s sweet,” he said, but when she bit into it, it was so bitter it nearly paralyzed her tongue. Then he rolled up his pant cuffs and jumped into a pond, quickly catching a pair of insects the size of melon seeds and shaking them in his hand. “Change!” he shouted. Holding his closed hand up to Xuan’er’s nose, he asked her, “What do they smell like?” She shook her head and said she didn’t know. “Like watermelons,” he said. “They’re watermelon bugs. They come from watermelon seeds.”
    Xuan’er couldn’t help thinking that her uncle was really just an overgrown, playful child.
    The results of the doctor’s examination? There was nothing wrong with Xuan’er.
    “The Shangguan family will pay for this!” Xuan’er’s aunt said indignantly. “They’ve got a sterile mule of a son, and have no right to take out their frustrations on Xuan’er!”
    But she only made it as far as the door.
    Ten days later, during a pouring rain, the aunt prepared a sumptuous meal, complete with some of her husband’s strong liquor. With her niece seated across from her, she placed one green cup in front of each of them. Candlelight cast her shadow on the wall behind as she filled both cups with liquor. Xuan’er saw that her hand was shaking.
    “Why are we drinking liquor, Aunty?” Xuan’er asked. She had the uneasy feeling that something was about to happen.
    “No reason. It’s a rainy, sultry day, and I thought we could stay inside and talk, just the two of us.” She raised her cup. “Drink up.”
    Xuan’er held out her cup and looked at her aunt with fear in her eyes. The older woman clinked glasses with her before tipping her head back and draining the cup.
    Xuan’er emptied her cup.
    “What do you plan to do?” Xuan’er’s aunt asked.
    With a sorrowful look, Xuan’er just shook her head.
    Her aunt refilled both cups. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to accept things the way they are,” she said. “The fact that their son is sterile is something we have to keep in mind. They owe us; we don’t owe them. Girl, I want you to understand that in this world, some of the finest deeds are