smiled, and said to Yu, Don’t forget to keep your promise. Then she flew upwards, causing the leaves to quiver as she passed, and was soon out of sight. The stalk that had grown out of the gourd seed turned to dust that fluttered to the ground. The crowd stood there speechless before finally leaving the scene.
Yu returned home, but could not get the girl’s beauty out of his mind. Neither eating nor drinking, he lay stiffly in bed day and night, shouting over and over in his delirium, as if in the presence of ghosts and demons. His frightened parents sought help from a parade of doctors, all of whom were mystified by a tenacious illness that defied medical treatment. Yu continued to deteriorate, body and soul, until he arrived at the brink of death. His parents, reduced to tears, were at their wits’ end, when suddenly they heard the tinkle of a horse-bell at the door, followed by a shout, It’s I, the boy’s uncle! The words still hung in the air when a strapping young man burst through the door. After completing his bows, he said, Brother-in-law, elder sister, have you been well since last we met? Looking into his face, with its high nose, wide mouth, yellow hair, and blue eyes, unlike other Chinese, the mother was too startled to speak. The man strode over to the boy’s bed and announced, My nephew is seriously afflicted with lovesickness. Can potions or medical treatment cure him of that? You doddering oldsters will surely send my nephew to his death! Ill for many days, Yu lay with his eyes closed, barely breathing, as if he were already slipping into death, cut off from the outside world. The visitor bent down to check his condition. He announced with a sigh, Such pallor on a face so young and tender shows that my nephew is sick at heart. Producing three red pellets, he placed them in Yu’s mouth, which immediately brought color to his cheeks and restored his heavy breathing. Then, clapping his hands thrice, the visitor announced, Foolish youngster, the anniversary of your promise, which you have anxiously awaited for so long, has nearly arrived. Do you not want to be there at the appointed hour? Yu’s eyes popped open, bright and radiant, and he leaped out of bed. Thumping himself on the forehead, he exclaimed, If not for your help, uncle, I would have missed my rendezvous with the girl. You must leave, the visitor said, you must leave at once. He turned and strode out the door. Without stopping to change his clothes, comb his hair, or put on his shoes, Yu ran after his uncle. His parents called out tearfully, but he paid them no heed.
The visitor sat on his horse beside the road, waiting for Yu. Reaching down with his long arms, he lifted Yu up onto his mount, as if he were a newborn chick. Then he struck the horse with his riding crop; the animal whinnied once and was off like the wind. Yu sat astride the horse, holding on tightly to its mane, the wind whistling past his ears. Open your eyes, nephew, he suddenly heard his uncle say. When he did, he saw that he was in the Gobi Desert, surrounded by dry, withered grass on the rocky terrain, with nary a soul in sight. Without a word, his uncle smacked his horse and galloped off like a puff of smoke, leaving not a trace.
Yu sat on the rocky ground, alone and in tears. Suddenly he felt the rocks give way and heard a series of thunderous claps. Golden beams of light filled his eyes, so startling him that he swooned dead away. When he next awoke, he felt dainty fingers on his face, spreading their redolence in the air around him. He opened his eyes, and there before him was the girl. Tears of joy fell from his eyes. I have waited for you for such a long time, the girl said.
(Here five hundred words have been excised.)
Strolling hand in hand, they saw a garden with a profusion of unusual trees and rare flowers. One particular tree, large with palm-sized leaves, was covered with fruit shaped exactly like baby boys. At the mid-day meal, a golden-hued baby boy sat in the center of a platter, so perfectly lifelike that Yu dared not touch it with his chopsticks. How can a young man, over five feet tall, be such a coward? the girl said as she picked up her chopsticks and stuck them into the baby’s penis, which, along with the rest of the body, crumbled under the assault. She picked up a piece of arm and ate it, chewing and grinding like a tiger or a wolf. Yu was more frightened than ever. With a sneer, the girl said, This boy is not a boy at all, but a boy-shaped fruit, and I am not pleased by your posturing. Wanting to please her, Yu forced himself to pick up an ear and put it into his mouth, where it melted and flooded his taste buds with indescribably delicious flavors. Emboldened by this discovery, he attacked the food like a hungry wolf or a starving tiger. The girl covered her mouth as she giggled. She said, Before you knew the flavor you were frightened as a lamb, but now you are ravenous as a wolf! Yu was too busy eating to reply; with grease and oil smeared across his face, he was a sight to behold. The girl brought out a flagon of liquor, saturating the air like perfume. She said, This is brewed from fruit gathered by apes and monkeys in the mountains. It is among the most sought-after anywhere…
Mo Yan, sir, you’ve probably read enough for one sitting, and I’ve certainly copied all I can for the moment. But I should remind you that eating infant boys and drinking Ape Liquor, both of which are mentioned in this nonsensical article, constitute two significant current events in Liquorland; you could even say they are the two keys to the mystery of Liquorland. The author of
Mr Yu, you are confusing me something awful. First you work in a tavern, then you’re a scaly young warrior who comes and goes like a shadow, and then you’re a clown in a performing troupe. Now you’re the prestigious owner of a tavern – your life is a mixture of truth and untruth, filled with countless transformations. How is anyone to write your life story?
He laughed uproariously. Who’d have guessed that such loud, crisp laughter could emerge from the chicken- breast chest of such a tiny dwarf. He tapped on the telephone buttons, making the little computer inside whirl dizzily. Then he tossed a teacup made of fine china from the town of Jingde toward the ceiling, sending it and the tea inside, aided by the pull of gravity, crashing and splashing onto the gorgeous, and expensive, wool carpet. Reaching into a drawer, he withdrew a stack of color photographs and flapped them in the air, making them flutter like a swarm of gaudy butterflies. Do you know these women, he asked smugly. I picked up the photos and studied them greedily, a hypocritical look of shyness on my face. Every one of the women was a beauty, totally naked, and they all looked familiar. He said their names were on the back. There I found the women’s work units, their ages, their names, and the dates they had sex with him. They were all from Liquorland. He was very close to realizing his glorious aspiration.
So, Doctor of Liquor Studies, this crowning success by an ugly little dwarf ought to earn him the right to have his biography written, don’t you think? Have that rascal Mo Yan get his ass over here as soon as possible. Wait too long and I might kill myself.
I, Yu Yichi, age unclear, stand seventy-five centimeters tall. Born into poverty, I wandered from place to place. I hit my stride in my middle years, serving as Chairman of the Metropolitan Entrepreneurs Association, earning distinction as provincial model worker, assuming proprietorship of Yichi Tavern, anointed as a candidate for Party membership, and having sex with twenty-nine of Liquorland’s most beautiful women. I have a mental state beyond the imagination of mortal men, and abilities that surpass the best of them. I also have a rich supply of the sort of experiences that are the stuff of legend. My biography will rank as the world’s most phenomenal book. Tell that rascal Mo Yan to make up his mind at once. Will he write it or won’t he? Shit or get off the pot.
Chapter Six
I
Ding Gou’er sensed the gold-trimmed Gate of Hell open with a loud rumble. To his astonishment he discovered that Hell wasn’t the dark, shadowy place mythology had made it out to be. No, it was dazzling, drenched simultaneously in rays from the red sun and the blue moon. Schools of beautifully striped, armored sea creatures, with soft, lithe limbs circled his body as it floated aimlessly. He sensed that a pointy-mouthed, multi-hued fish was nibbling at his anus, gently removing his hemorrhoids with the surgical skill of a trained proctologist. The butterfly of his consciousness returned to the body from which it had separated itself for so long, bringing a coolness to his brain. The special investigator, intoxicated for so long, opened his eyes: Sitting beside him was the lady trucker,
