The Republic of Wine

elbows and wrists on the snowy white tablecloth. Sunlight pouring in through the tall windows brightened every corner of the small dining room. Soft strains of jazz floated down from the ceiling, as if from far, far away. Muted notes from a trumpet touched the soul. He was thinking of the massage and of the bespectacled Miss Ma.
    Breakfast consisted of six modest dishes, an appealing array of greens and reds. They were accompanied by milk, fried eggs, toast, jam, steamed rolls, rice porridge, salted duck eggs, fried fermented bean curd, sesame cakes, little dough twists… more choices than he could count. A combination of Chinese and western food.
    ‘A steamed roll and a bowl of porridge is enough for me.’ Mo Yan said.
    ‘Eat up,’ Yu Yichi said insistently. ‘There’s no need to be polite, Liquorland has plenty of food.’
    ‘How about liquor?’ Li Yidou asked him. ‘What would you like?’
    ‘On an empty stomach? Nothing, thanks.’
    Yu Yichi said, ‘Have a glass, just one. It’s the custom.’
    ‘Mo Yan has a touchy stomach,’ Li Yidou said. ‘A glass of ginger spirits will warm it.’
    ‘Miss Yang,’ Yu Yichi shouted, ‘come pour for us.’
    A waitress appeared, one even lovelier than Miss Ma. She all but took Mo Yan’s breath away. ‘My dear Mo Yan,’ Yu Yichi said, nudging him with his elbow, ‘what do you think of the girls of Yichi Tavern?’
    ‘They’re like moon goddesses,’ he replied.
    ‘Lovely liquor isn’t all Liquorland is famous for. Our women are just as lovely,’ Li Yidou crowed. ‘The mothers of Xi Shi and Wang Zhaojun were both from Liquorland.’
    Yu Yichi and Mo Yan laughed.
    ‘Don’t laugh,’ Li Yidou protested. ‘I’ve got proof.’
    ‘Stop the nonsense,’ Yu Yichi said. ‘If it’s tall tales you want, ask Mo Yan, he’s the master.’
    Li Yidou laughed. ‘You’re right. I’m wielding an ax at the door of the greatest ax-man of all.’
    They finished breakfast amid more chatter and laughter. Miss Yang walked up and handed Mo Yan a hot, perfumed hand towel, with which he wiped his face and hands. He couldn’t recall ever having such a sense of well-being. When he rubbed his cheeks, the skin was soft and silky. He felt absolutely wonderful and relaxed.
    Proprietor Yu,’ Li Yidou said, ‘we’re relying on you for a fine lunch today.’
    ‘I need you to tell me that? I wouldn’t dare offer anything but the best to Mo Yan, our honored guest from afar.’
    ‘I’ve ordered a car, Mo Yan, Sir,’ Li Yidou said. ‘We can walk if you’re up to it. If not, we can ride.’
    ‘Have the driver go on about his business,’ Mo Yan said. ‘We’ll just stroll where our feet take us.’
    ‘Fine with me,’ Li Yidou said.
    III
    Mo Yan and Li Yidou are walking down Donkey Avenue.
    Donkey Avenue is in fact paved with ancient cobblestones, which have been washed clean by an overnight rainfall A crisp, chilled, acrid smell rises from the cracks between stones, reminding Mo Yan of one of Li Yidou’s stories. ‘Is there really a ghostly black donkey that haunts this street?’
    ‘That’s a legend,’ Li Yidou says. ‘No one has actually seen it’
    ‘There must be countless donkey ghosts that wander this street,’ Mo Yan says.
    ‘That’s a fact. The street’s history goes back at least two hundred years, and the number of donkeys that have been slaughtered here is incalculable.’
    ‘How many a day?’ Mo Yan asks.
    ‘Twenty, at least,’ Li Yidou replies.
    ‘How could there be so many donkeys?’
    ‘Would anyone open a slaughterhouse if there were no donkeys to slaughter?’ Li Yidou assures him.
    ‘Are there enough customers?’
    ‘Sometimes they go away empty-handed.’
    While they’re discussing the situation, a man dressed like a peasant walks up with two fat black donkeys. Mo Yan goes up to him. ‘Say, old villager, you selling those?’
    The man gives Mo Yan a cold stare without answering, then continues on his way. ‘Want to watch them slaughter a donkey?’ Li Yidou asks.
    ‘Yes,’ Mo Yan replies. ‘Of course I do.’
    So they turn back and fall in behind the man leading the donkeys down the street. When they reach the Sun Family Butcher Shop, the man shouts, ‘Here are the donkeys, Boss.’
    A bald middle-aged man comes rushing out of the shop. ‘What took you so long, Old Jin?’
    ‘I got hung up at the ferry landing,’ Old Jin tells him.
    Baldy opens a gate next to the shop. ‘Bring them on in,’ he says.
    ‘Hey there, Old