Red Sorghum

for you, well, little men leave little records. Go out and earn your twenty or thirty yuan, and be happy to carry the paper-thin coffins of the poor!’
    His comments went straight to the bearers’ hearts like poison arrows. Granddad strode forward before anyone else moved and said loudly, ‘Second Master Cao, working for someone as stupid as you is goddamned suffocating! A dogshit soldier is one thing, but a dogshit general is another! I quit!’
    The hot-blooded bearers echoed his shouts. Second Master stood up, thumped Granddad hard on the shoulder, and said with genuine feeling, ‘Zhan’ao, now
you’re
a man! The seed of Northeast Gaomi Township. The Qi family got where it is by taking advantage of people like us, who earn their living as bearers. If you’ll work together and get that coffin out, the reputation of Northeast Gaomi Township is assured. You can’t buy glory for any amount of money. But don’t forget that, as the descendants of a Qing-dynasty Hanlin scholar, they follow strict decorum. This won’t be easy. If you can’t sleep tonight, stay up and figure out how you’re going to get through those seven gates.’
    Before the bearers had left the office, two strangers walkedin and announced that they were stewards from the Hanlin scholar’s home, come to enlist the services of the Northeast Gaomi Township bearers.
    Once they had stated their purpose, Second Master Cao asked listlessly, ‘How much will you pay?’
    ‘Five hundred in silver! You won’t see a fee like that many times in your life!’
    Second Master Cao tossed his silver water pipe onto the table and sneered. ‘First of all,’ he said, ‘we have all the business we need, and second, we’ve got money to burn. Maybe you’d better go find someone else.’
    The Qi family stewards smiled knowingly. ‘Proprietor,’ one of them said, ‘we are all businessmen!’
    ‘Yes,’ Second Master Cao replied, ‘we are. And you will have no trouble finding someone to do the job for that fee.’
    He closed his eyes sleepily.
    A quick look passed between the two stewards. The one in front spoke up. ‘Proprietor, let’s not beat around the bush. Name your price!’
    ‘I’m not about to risk the lives of my men for a few silver dollars,’ Second Master Cao replied.
    ‘Six hundred!’ the steward said. ‘In silver!’
    Second Master Cao sat there like a stone.
    ‘Seven hundred! Seven hundred silver dollars! In business you have to deal in good conscience, proprietor.’
    Second Master Cao’s lips curled.
    ‘Eight hundred, then, and that’s our final offer!’
    Second Master Cao’s eyes snapped open. ‘One thousand!’ he said flatly.
    The steward’s cheeks puffed out like those of a man with impacted wisdom teeth. He stared at the harsh, unyielding expression on Second Master Cao’s face.
    ‘Proprietor . . . we don’t have the authority. . . .’
    ‘Then go back and tell your boss. One thousand. We won’t do it for less.’
    ‘All right. You’ll have your answer tomorrow.’
    The steward rode up from the county town on a lathered horse with purple mane the following morning. The date was settled, and a deposit of five hundred silver dollars handedover, the remainder payable when the coffin had been successfully moved.
    Sixty-four bearers rose well before sunrise on the day of the funeral, ate a hearty breakfast, and set out for Jiao City, stepping on starlight. Second Master Cao brought up the rear on his black donkey.
    Granddad recalled that the sky that day was dotted with morning stars. The dew was icy, and the steel hook he’d tucked into his waistband kept thumping against his hip bone. Dawn had broken when they reached town, and the streets were already packed with people who had turned out to watch the funeral. When Granddad and the others heard whispers from the crowd, they raised their heads and thrust out their chests, wanting to leave a gallant impression. Deep down, however, they were worried.
    The Qi compound sported a row of tile-roofed buildings half a block in length. Granddad and the other men followed the family servants through three gates into a garden filled with snow trees and silver flowers, the ground covered with paper money, and the smoke of incense all around. Few families could match that kind of grandeur.
    The steward walked up to Second Master Cao in the company of the head of the household, a man of about fifty with a tiny hooked nose high above a broad mouth on a gaunt face. He