Life and Death are Wearing Me Out

of combat readiness!” Hong said. “If war comes, our People’s Liberation Army soldiers will need to eat meat to win the battles.” Seeing that Huang Tong was still hesitant, he said firmly, “Open up the shed. I’ll take the responsibility. I’ll report to the commune this afternoon. Feeding pigs takes precedence over other political tasks, so I don’t expect any opposition. What’s most important,” he said, sounding somewhat mysterious, “is to expand our pig farm and increase the numbers of animals. There’ll come a day when all the grain in the county stockrooms will be ours.”
    Knowing smiles spread across Huang Tong and Jinlong’s faces as the agreeable smell of millet gruel approached them and stopped at the next pen over.
    “Ximen Bai,” Hong called out, “starting tomorrow you’re to feed this sow too.”
    “Yes, Secretary Hong.”
    “Dump half the bucket you’re carrying into the sow’s trough.”
    “Yes, Secretary Hong.”
    Ximen Bai — that had a familiar ring to it. Ximen Bai. I tried to recall what that name meant to me. Then a kindly but weary face appeared in front of my pen, and I was racked by spasms, as if I’d been given an electric shock. At the same time, the gate to my memory was flung open and the past came flooding in. “Xing’er,” I shouted, “you’re still alive!” But what emerged from my throat was a long, shrill pig noise. It not only scared the people outside the pen, it scared me. Tragically, I had no choice but to return to reality, to the present, no longer Ximen Nao but a little pig, the son of the white sow I shared this pen with.
    I tried to calculate her age, but the fragrance of sunflowers confused me. Yet even though no number emerged, I knew she was over fifty, because the hair at her temples had turned white, there were fine wrinkles around her eyes, and her once beautiful white teeth had begun to yellow and wear out.
    Slowly she scooped the millet into the trough with a wooden ladle.
    “You heard what I said, didn’t you?” Hong Taiyue asked harshly.
    “You needn’t worry, Secretary Hong,” Ximen Bai said in a soft but firm voice. “I have no children of my own, so these pigs will be my sons and daughters.”
    “That’s what I like to hear,” Hong said, satisfied with her response. “What we need is more women who are willing to raise our pigs as their own sons and daughters.”

23

Piglet Sixteen Is Moved to a Cozy Nest
Diao Xiaosan Mistakenly Eats an Alcohol-laced Bun
    Brother, or should I say, Uncle, you seem upset. Your eyes are hooded by puffy lids, and you seem to be snoring, Big-head Lan Qiansui said harshly. If you’re not interested in the lives of pigs, let me tell you about dogs.
    No, no, no, I’m interested, I really am. You know, I assume, that I wasn’t always at your side during those years you were a pig. At first I worked in the pig farm, but my job was not to feed you. Then, later, Huang Hezuo and I were sent to work in the cotton mill, and most of what we learned about your illustrious accomplishments came to us as hearsay. I really want to hear you talk about your experiences, down to the last detail. Don’t give another thought to my puffy eyelids, because when my eyes are hooded, that means I’m concentrating.
    The events that followed were varied and very complex. I can only touch on the highlights and the more spectacular incidents, Big-head Lan Qiansui said.
    Even though Ximen Bai painstakingly fed my sow mother, I went on suckling like a crazed piglet — what you might call extraction — which led to the paralysis of the rear half of her body. Her hind legs were like dried-out loofahs, so she had to drag herself around the pen by her front legs. By this time I was nearly as big as she was. My hair was so glossy it looked waxed; my skin was a healthy red color with a wonderful odor. My poor mother’s skin was filthy, the foul-smelling rear half covered in shit. She howled every time I took one of her teats in my mouth, and tears spilled out of her tiny eyes. She dragged herself along the ground, trying to get away from me and pleading: Son, my good son, show your mother some mercy. You’re sucking the marrow out of my bones. Can’t you see the miserable shape I’m in? You’re a full-grown pig, so you should be eating solid food like me. I turned a deaf ear to her pleading, nudged her onto her side with my snout, and wrapped my lips around two teats at the same time. As my ears filled with her