stiffly in his wooden armchair without so much as passing wind. The only movement was in his cold, intelligent eyes, and the only sound was the gurgling of the water pipe. ‘Second Master, it’s not for the money!’ Granddad and the others argued. ‘A man only lives once. Don’t let the world look down on the people of Northeast Gaomi Township!’ At this point Second Master Cao shifted his buttocks and slowly farted. ‘You men go and get some rest,’ he said. ‘If you botch the job and some of you are crushed to death, so what? But if you lose face for Northeast Gaomi Township and ruin my business, that’s another matter altogether. If you’re short of money, maybe I can help you out.’
With that, he closed his eyes. But the bearers began to clamour: ‘Second Master, don’t destroy our prestige while furthering the ambitions of others!’ Second Master Cao replied, ‘Don’t swallow a scythe if your stomach isn’t curved. You think earning that five hundred is going to be easy? Well, there are seven gates in the Qi compound, through which you have to carry a coffin filled with quicksilver! Do you hear me? I said quicksilver! Mull that over in your dog brains for a while, and figure out how much that coffin must weigh.’ He looked at his bearers out of the corner of his eye, then snorted derisively. ‘Go on, get out of here,’ he said. ‘Let the true heroes earn the real money! As 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
Before the bearers had left the office, two strangers walked in 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 handed over, 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 glanced at the team of men and, with a nod to Second Master Cao, said, ‘A thousand silver dollars requires an appropriate amount of decorum.’
Second Master Cao returned his nod and followed him through the final gate.
When he emerged from the house, his shiny face had turned ashen and his long-nailed fingers trembled. He called the bearers over to the wall and said with a gnashing of his teeth, ‘We’ve had it, boys!’
‘What’s the problem, Second Master?’ Granddad asked him.
‘Men, the coffin’s as wide as the door, and on top of it there’s a bowl filled to the brim with wine. He says he’ll penalise us a hundred silver dollars for every drop we spill!’
They were speechless. The wails of mourners inside the funeral chamber floated on the air like a song.
‘What should we do, Zhan’ao?’ Second Master Cao asked.
‘This is no time for the chickenhearted,’ Granddad replied. ‘We’ll carry the thing out even if it’s filled with iron balls.’
‘Okay, men,’ Second Master Cao said in a low voice, ‘let’s go. If you get it out, you’re like my own sons. The thousand-dollar fee is all yours. I don’t want any of it!’
‘No more of that kind of talk!’ Granddad said with a quick glance at him.
‘Then let’s get ready,’ Second Master Cao said. ‘Zhan’ao, Sikui, you two man the cable, one in front and one behind. I want twenty of you other men inside, and as soon as the coffin is off the ground, slip under it and prop it on your backs. The rest of you stay out here and move in rhythm as I beat the gong. And men, Cao the Second is in your debt!’ Second Master Cao, normally the tyrant, bowed deeply this time.
The head of the Qi household walked up with a retinue of servants and said, ‘Not so fast. We need to search you first.’
‘What sort of decorum is that?’ Second Master Cao shot back angrily.
‘The decorum of one thousand silver dollars!’ the head of the household replied haughtily.
The Qi family servants removed the steel hooks the men had hidden in their waistbands and tossed them to the ground.
Okay! Granddad thought. Anybody can lift a coffin by using steel hooks. A stirring emotion, like that of a fearless man on the way to his execution, surged into his heart. After cinching his pant cuffs and waistband as tight as he could, he took a deep breath and entered the funeral chamber. The mourners – boys and girls – stopped wailing and stared wide-eyed at the bearers, then at the bowl of wine on top of the coffin. The smoky air was nearly suffocating, and the faces of the living were like hideous floating masks. The ebony coffin of the old Hanlin scholar rested on four stools like a huge boat in drydock.
Granddad uncoiled a thick hempen cable and ran it under the coffin from end to end. The tips were finished with loops of twisted white cotton. The other bearers strung thick, water-soaked cotton ropes under the cable and held on to the ends.
