Big Breasts & Wipe Hips: A Novel

and pour out half a bucket of fish.” My eighth sister, wrapped in her lynx coat, lay huddled in a corner of the
kang
, smiling awkwardly, like a furry little Goddess of Mercy. Second Sister’s first hit produced a white dot the size of a walnut; several splinters of ice stuck to the head of the hammer. She raised it again, straining to get it over her head, then brought it down unsteadily. Another white dot appeared on the ice, this one several feet away from the first one. By the time twenty or more white dots covered the patch of ice, Zhaodi was gasping for breath, as long, dense puffs of white mist shot from her mouth. She raised the hammer once more, but in using the last bit of strength to bring it down, she fell headlong onto the ice. Her face was ashen, her thick lips were now bright red; her eyes misted up, and the tip of her nose was dotted with crystalline beads of sweat.
    By then my third and fourth sisters were muttering, voicing discontent over their elder sister as gusts of wind from the north swept across the riverbed and sliced into their faces like knives. Second Sister stood up, spit in her hands, picked up the sledgehammer again, and brought it down on the ice. But the next swing sent her sprawling on the ice a second time.
    Just as they were gathering up the bucket and carrying pole and were about to head home dejected, resigned to the fact that they would have to continue using melted snow or ice to cook, a dozen or so horses pulling sleighs and leaving trails of icy mist galloped up on the frozen river. Owing to the bright rays of sunlight glancing off the ice and the fact that the horsemen rode in from the southeast, at first Second Sister thought they had coasted down to earth on those very rays of sunlight. They shone like golden sunbeams and were lightning quick. The horses’ hooves flashed like silver as they pummeled the ice, iron horseshoes filling the air with loud cracks and sending shards of ice flying into the faces of my sisters, who stood there gaping, too stupefied to even think about running away. The horses skirted them at a gallop before coming to a staggering halt on the slick ice. My sisters noticed that the sleighs were coated with thick yellow tung oil that shone like stained glass. Four men sat in each sleigh, all wearing hats made of fluffy fox fur. White frost coated their beards, their eyebrows, their eyelashes, and the fronts of their hats. Dense puffs of steamy mist emerged from their mouths and nostrils. Their horses were small and delicate, their legs covered with long hair. From their calm attitude, Second Sister guessed that they were legendary Mongol ponies. A tall, husky fellow jumped down off the second sleigh. He was wearing a sleek lambskin coat, open in front to reveal a leopardskin vest. The vest was girded by a wide leather belt, from which a holstered revolver hung on one side and a hatchet on the other. He alone was wearing a felt hat with flaps instead of a leather cap. Rabbit fur earmuffs covered his exposed ears. “Are you the daughters of the Shangguan family?” he asked.
    The man standing before them was Sima Ku, assistant steward of Felicity Manor. “What are you doing out here?” He supplied his own answer before they could reply. “Ah, trying to break a hole in the ice. That’s no job for girls!” He turned and shouted to the men in the sleighs, “Climb down off there, all of you, and help my neighbors chop a hole in the ice. We’ll water these Mongol ponies while we’re at it.”
    Dozens of bloated-looking men climbed down off the sleighs, coughing and spitting. Several of them knelt down, took out hatchets, and attacked the ice —
pa pa.
Splinters flew as cracks opened up. One of the men, whose face sported whiskers, felt the edge of his hatchet and, after blowing his nose, said, “Brother Sima, at this rate, we could work till it was dark and not break through the ice.” Sima Ku knelt down, took out his own hatchet, and attempted a few tentative whacks on the ice. “Damn!” he cursed. “It’s like steel plate.” The whiskered man said, “Elder brother, if we all empty our bladders on one spot, it’ll melt open a hole.” “You dumb prick!” Sima Ku cursed just as exhilaration swept over him. He smacked himself on his rear end — his lips cracked open, for the wound in his backside hadn’t yet completely healed — and said, “I’ve got it. Technician Jiang, come over here.” A bony little man walked up and looked