Life and Death are Wearing Me Out

quickly turned to self-pitying sobs, but Bai Xing’er ignored him and his foul language. She picked up her buckets, hung the ladle from one of them, and walked off, swaying from side to side.
    Once she was gone, Diao turned to me and started in with the complaints, spraying my pen with his foul spittle. I pretended I didn’t see the hatred in his eyes and went back to my food.
    “Pig Sixteen,” he said, “what kind of world are we living in? We’re both pigs, so how come people don’t treat us the same? Because I’m dark and you’re light? Or because you’re local and I’m not? Or is it because you’re good looking and I’m ugly? Which isn’t to say that you’re all that good looking.”
    What could I say to a moron like that? The world has never been fair. Just because an officer rides a horse doesn’t mean his soldiers ought to as well, does it? A generalissimo in the Soviet Red Army rode a horse, and so did his troops. But his mount was a magnificent steed, theirs were nags. Differential treatment.
    “I’ll sink my teeth into all of them one of these days, then I’ll rip open their bellies and pull their guts out. . .” With his front feet resting on the wall between our pens, he ground his teeth and said, “Where there’s oppression there’s resistance. Do you believe that? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I do.”
    “You’re right,” I said. No need to offend him. “I believe you’ve got guts and certain abilities,” I added, “and I’m waiting for the day when you do something spectacular.”
    “Well, then,” he said, starting to drool, “how about sharing some of that food she gave you?”
    I had a low opinion of him to begin with, but that fell even lower when I saw the greedy look in his eyes and the filth around his mouth. I was reluctant to let that disgusting mouth pollute my feed trough. Considering his petty request, I knew it would be hard to turn it down out of hand, so I stammered:
    “Old Diao, I tell you the truth, there’s no real difference between what you and I got. . . . You’re being childish, assuming that somebody else’s cake is bigger than yours.”
    “How fucking stupid do you think I am?” he said angrily “My eyes might fall for that, but not my nose! Hell, my eyes won’t fall for that either.” He bent down, scooped some feed out of his trough, and flung it down in front of mine. Anyone could see the difference. “Look at that and tell me what you’re eating and then what I’m eating. Shit, we’re both boars, so how come we get different treatment? You’re going to ‘serve the revolution by mating,’ well, am I serving the counterrevolution then? If people divide themselves into revolutionary and counterrevolutionary, does that mean there are classes of pigs too? It’s all because of favoritism and crazy thoughts. I saw the way Bai Xing’er was looking at you. That was the look a woman gives her husband! Maybe she wants to mate with you, what do you think? If you do, then next spring, she’ll have a litter of piglets with human heads, or monsters with pig heads. Won’t they be beautiful?” he said hatefully, then flashed an evil grin, showing that his slanderous outburst had driven the gloom from his mind.
    I scooped up the clump of feed he’d tossed over and flung it far over the wall. “I was seriously considering doing you a favor,” I said contemptuously, “but after what you just said, sorry, brother Diao, but I’ll dump the rest of the food on a pile of shit before I’ll give it to you.” I reached down, scooped up what was left in my trough, and tossed it on the ground, where I relieved myself. Then I went back and lay down on my straw bed. “If you’re still hungry, sir,” I said, “be my guest.”
    Diao Xiaosan’s eyes flashed green; his teeth ground noisily. “Pig Sixteen,” he said, “the old saying goes, ‘You don’t know your legs are muddy till you step out of the water.’ The river flows east for thirty years and west for thirty years! The sun’s rays are on the move. They won’t always shine down on your nest!” Now that he’d had his say, his hideous face disappeared from view. But I could hear him pacing anxiously on the other side of the wall and, from time to time, banging his head against the gate or scraping the wall with his hooves. That went on for a while until I heard a strange noise from his side. It took a number of guesses before I figured out that he had stood up on