18

Mrs.　Fang　took　over　the　funeral　arrangements.　Since　the　weather　was　warm,　the　funeral　had　to　take　place　with　—　in　three　days.　And　Pao　Ching　was　completely　helpless.　All　that　he　knew　was　that　his　brother　had　been　killed,　that　he　was　dead,　that　he　would　never　hear　his　voice　again.　Beyond　that　his　mind　was　blank,　and　it　seemed　as　if　there　was　no　feeling　left　in　his　body.　He　had　no　appetite　and　had　lost　all　inclination　to　wash　and　primp　himself.

Mrs.　Fang　was　a　tower　of　strength.　She　took　over　everything,　made　the　white　funeral　clothes,　arranged　with　the　undertaker　and　set　up　the　altar.　She　dressed　Pao　Ching　in　his　funeral　clothes　and　made　him　drink　some　tea.　When　he　was　standing　mute　and　grief_stricken　beside　the　coffin,　she　would　look　in　occasionally　to　see　that　he　had　not　fainted.　She　it　was　who　met　the　friends　at　the　door　when　they　came　to　pay　their　compliments　to　the　dead.　Pao　Ching　was　aware　that　people　had　come,　but　he　was　not　able　to　recognize　them.　He　stood　up　and　greeted　them　mechanically,　and　then　went　on　mourning.　If　they　talked　to　him　he　nodded,　but　he　had　not　the　slightest　notion　what　they　said.　He　was　a　living　man　walking　in　the　dream　of　death.

Of　one　person　alone　he　was　conscious.　That　was　Meng　Liang.　He　was　the　soul　of　kindness,　the　spirit　of　helpfulness,　the　manifestation　of　understanding.　Only　he　had　the　warmth　of　feeling　to　penetrate　the　wall　of　grief　that　Pao　Ching　had　erected　round　himself.　The　Fang　family　were　astonished　at　the　sympathetic　consideration　showed　them　by　Mr.　Meng.

To　them　he　had　always　been　a　remote　and　superior　being　—　a　writer　and　a　poet　who　had　come　to　study　drum　singing.　Now　he　was　treating　them　as　equals　and　showing　himself　as　a　real　friend.　And　he　was　ready　to　do　anything　to　help.　When　friends　came　to　mourn　at　the　side　of　the　coffin　it　was　Meng　Liang　who　kept　them　company.　He　talked　with　them,　ate　with　them,　and　sat　up　with　them　for　the　formal　all-night　wake.　Even　in　his　grief　Pao　Ching　realized　that　if　he　had　lost　a　much-loved　brother,　he　had　indeed　found　a　true　friend.

They　purchased　a　funeral　lot　on　the　top　of　the　hill,　and　Meng　Liang　supervised　the　digging　of　the　grave.　As　the　coffin　was　lowered,　Pao　Ching　threw　a　handful　of　dirt　on　it　in　accordance　with　the　traditional　custom.　There　were　no　tears　left　in　him　now.　He　stood,　a　gray-faced,　bald-headed　man,　staring　dazedly　at　the　grave　as　the　undertaker's　men　shoveled　in　the　earth.　It　was　the　end　of　his　elder　brother.　Useless　Fang　sleeping　beneath　the　cold　ground.

Long　after　the　others　had　gone　Pao　Ching　stood　at　the　graveside,　a　solitary　figure,　mourning　his　loss.　A　little　way　away　stood　Mrs.　Fang,　Mr.　Meng,　and　Lotus　Charm.

Then　up　the　hill　came　a　porter　carrying　Pao　Ching's　drum　and　the　three-stringed　instrument　on　which　Useless　Fang　had　made　his　sweet　music.　The　sky　was　graying　now,　and　great　blue　clouds　with　white　edges　were　rolling　across　the　landscape.　In　the　fading　light　the　green　of　the　hushed　fields　became　starkly　vivid,　and　the　branches　of　the　trees　became　sharp　black　silhouettes.

Pao　Ching　took　the　stringed　instrument　from　the　porter.　He　bowed　low　and　placed　it　reverently　on　the　ground　beside　the　grave.　Then　he　took　the　drum　and　set　it　on　its　stand.

Pao　Ching　raised　his　hand.　Once,　twice,　thrice,　he　beat　the　drum.　The　sonorous　tone　of　the　instrument　crashed　into　the　silence　like　the　explosion　of　a　gun.　To　Meng　Liang　it　seemed　as　if　the　earth　shook　and　the　leaves　of　the　trees　trembled.

Pao　Ching　spoke　then　as　his　fingers　stilled　the　reverberations　of　the　face　of　the　drum.　“Dear　brother,"　he　said,　“dear　brother,　once　more　I　will　sing　for　you.　Listen　to　me,　I　pray.　Alas,　how　different　we　are.　You　always　liked　to　sing　and　to　play.　Music　you　loved　as　if　it　were　your　son,　but　you　never　would　play　as　a　professional.　I　was　different.　I　earned　my　living　by　the　music　we　loved,　and　so　we　were　divided.　But　was　not　that　the　only　difference　between　us？I　think　so."　He　paused　and　bowed　respectfully.　“Oh,　elder　brother,　I　know　I　shall　never　see　you　again,　but　please　play　for　me　once　more.　Play　so　I　can　hear　your　sweet　music.　Remember　how　we　enjoyed　singing　together？We　can　still　sing　even　though　you　are　buried.　For　more　than　forty　years　we　have　been　together,　dear　brother.　Sometimes　we　quarreled,　but　we　were　always　brothers.　Now,　never　again　can　we　quarrel,　never　again　can　we　argue.　The　only　thing　I　can　do　is　sing,　so　once　again　I　will　sing　for　you,　and　you,　elder　brother,　will　play　the　accompaniment　with　your　skillful　fingers."

Pao　Ching　smote　the　drum　again.　Then　he　waited,　his　head　tilted　to　one　side,　as　if　listening　for　the　first　notes　of　the　stringed　instrument.　But　the　only　sound　the　others　could　hear　was　the　sighing　of　the　wind　in　the　trees.　Lotus　Charm　put　her　handkerchief　to　her　mouth　to　stifle　her　sobs.　Mrs.　Fang　wept,　Meng　Liang　coughed　softly.

So　Pao　Ching　sang　the　requiem　to　his　brother,　sang　until　he　choked　and　his　voice　dried　in　his　parched　throat.

Then　Meng　Liang　took　his　friend　by　the　arm.　“Come,　Pao　Ching,"　he　advised.　“Do　not　grieve　so　much.　This　is　the　end　of　life　which　must　come　to　all　humans.　Today　others　are　born,　and　more　tomorrow.　Life　goes　on.　No　one　can　stop　us　from　dying;　don't　grieve　so　much.　Your　brother　lived　a　good　life."

Pao　Ching　looked　at　him　with　gratitude　in　his　hollowed　eyes.　“My　brother　was　killed　by　the　Japanese,"　he　corrected　sadly.　“I　cannot　avenge　him,　but　I　shall　sing　your　songs　more　often　and　with　a　deeper　understanding,　and　urge　the　people　to　fight　against　the　invaders　of　our　country."

Meng　Liang　picked　up　the　drum.　He　took　Pao　Ching's　arm.　“Come　home　and　rest,"　he　urged,　but　Pao　Ching　wanted　to　stay.　Finally　he　turned　and　addressed　the　grave　once　more,　“Goodbye,　elder　brother,"　he　said.　“Rest　well.　When　the　war　is　over　I　will　take　you　home　to　rest　with　your　ancestors."

The　next　day　Meng　Liang　fetched　the　doctor　to　his　friend.　Pao　Ching　was　sick,　a　bad　case　of　malaria.　His　life　hung　in　the　balance.　The　disease　had　taken　advantage　of　his　weakened　condition　and　was　racking　him　with　pain.　Mrs.　Fang　was　drinking　again,　so　it　fell　to　Lotus　Charm　to　act　as　nurse.　And　that　was　a　new　experience　for　her.　She　had　never　lived　close　to　real　sickness　before.　Her　father　looked　so　ill　that　she　wondered　if　he　would　die.　She　had　never　seen　him　with　his　face　so　gray,　his　eyes　so　hollow,　and　so　weak　that　he　could　not　sit　up.　There　was　death　as　well　as　birth　and　love,　she　reflected.　Life　was　like　the　seasons　of　the　year,　and　death　could　come　like　a　storm　in　summer,　as　it　had　come　to　Uncle　Fang.　She,　too,　would　die　one　day.　The　thought　seemed　remote　and　fantastic,　for　she　was　young　and　healthy.　But　Meng　Liang　had　told　her　the　same　thing.　Who　could　escape　death？And　what　would　she　do　if　her　father　went　to　join　his　brother？

She　loved　her　father　more　than　ever.　His　life　had　to　be　saved.　For　days　and　nights　she　did　not　leave　his　bedside.　Pao　Ching　had　only　to　move　and　she　was　at　hand　with　drugs　or　water.　Sometimes　Meng　Liang　came　to　keep　her　company.　After　her　father,　was　not　Mr.　Meng　truly　the　greatest　person　in　the　world？

During　the　long　nights　at　her　father's　bedside　Lotus　Charm　had　plenty　of　time　to　reflect.　She　observed　that　the　Fang　household　had　changed　since　Uncle　Fang　had　gone,　that　it　had　changed　too　because　Phoenix　Girl　was　no　longer　home.　Her　mother　must　have　loved　Uncle　Fang　deeply.　Although　she　had　quarreled　with　him　fiercely　when　he　was　alive,　now　she　would　sit　in　her　chair　and　weep　silently,　even　when　she　was　not　drunk.　And　again　the　same　old　question　came　into　her　mind.　Why　did　her　mother　not　love　her？There　was　the　pattern　and　example　of　Mr.　Meng.　He　had　become　her　mother's　trusted　friend.　How　had　he　managed　that？

Pao　Ching　had　passed　the　crisis.　One　night　when　Lotus　Charm　tiptoed　in　to　give　him　his　medicine,　she　found　him　relaxed　and　smiling.　His　forehead　was　cool　and　the　heavy　sweating　was　gone.　And　soon　he　was　talking　to　her,　telling　her　his　worries　about　Phoenix　Girl.　Why　hadn't　she　come　to　the　funeral？Why　hadn't　her　husband　come？What　was　the　matter　with　them　both？Lotus　Charm　did　her　best　to　convince　him　that　Phoenix　Girl　could　take　care　of　herself,　but　she　knew　that　she　had　failed.　Her　father　was　worrying　about　his　daughter.　Lotus　Charm　was　puzzled.　Why　did　people　worry　when　it　was　too　late？He　should　have　worried　earlier,　and　spared　his　daughter　the　unhappiness　to　which　she　had　been　subjected.

One　morning　when　Pao　Ching　was　convalescent　Phoenix　Girl　arrived.　She　dropped　a　parcel　she　was　carrying　on　the　floor,　and　ran　to　greet　her　father.　With　her　arms　around　him　she　wept　and　wept.　Mrs.　Fang　heard　the　noise　and　came　to　see　if　she　could　help.　With　clumsy　motherly　affection　she　pulled　her　daughter　away　from　the　sick　man,　and　set　her　upright　in　a　chair.　Phoenix　Girl　stopped　crying,　but　she　couldn't　speak.　She　was　like　a　limp　doll.　Mrs.　Fang　began　to　ask　questions.　Her　daughter　did　not　give　any　sign　she　had　heard.　After　half　an　hour　Mrs.　Fang　gave　up.　Finally　Pao　Ching　said　weakly,　“Please,　I　am　old　and　sick.　This　anxiety　is　hurting　me.　Tell　me　what　has　happened　before　I　die."

“He　doesn't　want　me　any　more,　that's　all.　He　doesn't　want　me　any　more,"　Phoenix　Girl　burst　out　sharply.　Mrs.　Fang　screamed.　Pao　Ching　stared　at　her,　stricken.　Then　as　the　shock　of　realization　hit　him,　he　collapsed　back　on　his　pillow.

“So　he　doesn't　want　you,"　roared　Mrs.　Fang,　shaking　her　fist.　“I'll　show　him　if　he　wants　you　or　not,　the　miserable　son　of　a　bedbug.　I'll　come　back　with　you　and　fix　him.　If　I　don't　fix　him,　call　me　a　no_good　old　bitch."

“But　he's　gone,　mother,"　said　Phoenix　Girl.

Mrs.　Fang　regarded　her　daughter　angrily.　“You　silly　fool！So　you　let　him　go.　He　just　said　he　didn't　want　you　any　more　and　you　let　him　walk　out.　What　kind　of　girl　are　you？Stupid！You　have　rights.　A　married　woman　has　rights."

Phoenix　Girl　made　no　answer.　To　ease　her　boiling　rage　Mrs.　Fang　thumped　into　the　next　room　and　took　a　drink.　This　was　terrible.　Her　daughter　losing　her　husband　after　only　a　few　weeks　of　marriage.　And　the　girl　was　a　good　girl　too,　she　could　swear.　If　she　had　been　loose,　this　could　be　expected,　but　Phoenix　Girl　was　a　virgin,　as　innocent　as　a　babe.　Was　this　punishment　for　the　things　she　had　done　when　she　herself　was　young？She　clenched　her　fat　fists　and　bowed　her　tear_stained　face.　She　had　been　around　before　she　married　Pao　Ching.　All　singing　girls　were　the　same,　but　she　had　kept　her　daughter　clean;　and　now　what　had　happened.　Her　daughter　thrown　over　by　a　lousy　no_good　sergeant.　Her　rage　swelled　till　it　seemed　as　if　her　heart　would　burst.　That　lousy　no_good　son　of　a　whore's　backside.　If　she　ever　got　hold　of　him　she　would　kick　him　till　he　died　in　agony.

She　stormed　back　to　the　living　room,　and　under　her　sharp　questioning　Phoenix　Girl　told　the　grim　story.

The　villain,　of　course,　was　Commander　Wang,　the　owner　of　many　concubines,　the　war　lord　who　had　lusted　after　Lotus　Charm.　Commander　Wang　the　great　lover,　who　wanted　every　woman　he　saw.

“It　was　wonderful　the　first　few　days,"　said　Phoenix　Girl.　“My　husband　loved　me　as　a　man　should　love　a　woman.　Our　nights　were　heaven,　our　days　full　of　happiness.　But　Commander　Wang　heard　of　the　marriage.　And　he　was　jealous.　He　called　my　husband　and　said,　So　you　have　gotten　a　wife　for　yourself,　but　you　could　not　get　me　the　singing　girl　I　wanted.　Blunderer　and　fool.　I　will　fix　you.'　That's　what　he　told　my　husband,　and　his　anger　is　terrible.　When　he　is　angry　everyone　in　the　Wang　mansion　trembles,　even　old　Madame　Wang.　And　then　the　commander　saw　me,　and　he　told　my　husband　that　he　must　share　me　with　him.　After　all,'he　told　my　husband,　`she　is　just　an　entertainer's　daughter　and　they　are　loose　as　the　gates　of　hell,　so　who　will　worry.　She'll　like　it.'"　Phoenix　Girl　began　to　cry.　“That's　what　my　husband's　master　said.　He　said　I　would　like　being　shared　by　two　men,　that　I　was　a　born　whore."

Mrs.　Fang　snorted　with　rage.　“Go　on,　tell　us　the　rest."

Phoenix　Girl　dried　her　tears　and　continued.　She　was　worried,　she　said,　because　her　husband　never　would　tell　her　what　he　thought　best　to　do.　At　times　she　thought　he　wanted　her　to　have　relations　with　his　master;　at　others　he　seemed　to　be　fiercely　jealous.　All　that　he　would　tell　her　was　that　Commander　Wang　was　threatening　to　send　him　back　to　the　army,　to　be　a　real　sergeant　again　and　live　on　soldier's　rations　instead　of　on　the　good　things　produced　by　the　Wang　farms.　And　the　day　came　when　Commander　Wang　called　at　the　Tao　house,　when　the　sergeant　was　away.　He　wasted　no　time,　Phoenix　Girl　told　her　parents,　and　quickly　tried　to　make　love　to　her.　But　she　resisted　him.

When　Sergeant　Tao　returned　he　was　sure　that　his　master　had　made　love　to　his　wife.　When　Phoenix　Girl　said　she　had　been　virtuous　he　taunted　her　with　being　a　tart,　ready　to　make　love　with　anyone.　The　more　Phoenix　Girl　protested　her　innocence　the　louder　his　abuse　became.　And　every　day　the　situation　worsened　as　Commander　Wang　sent　Tao　away　on　long　errands,　and　rushed　over　to　the　house　to　pay　court　to　Phoenix　Girl.　What　could　she　do,　demanded　Phoenix　Girl　of　her　parents.　If　she　betrayed　her　husband　she　would　be　everlastingly　unhappy.　If　she　didn't,　he　might　lose　his　job,　and　whatever　she　did　her　husband　would　abuse　her.

Every　night　when　he　came　home　from　the　long　missions　Sergeant　Tao　beat　her　thoroughly,　although　she　assured　him　that　she　had　not　allowed　his　employer　to　have　her.　Sergeant　Tao,　of　course,　did　not　believe　her.　He　would　first　beat　her　and　then　take　his　husbandly　rights.

And　then　Commander　Wang　got　impatient.　To　solve　the　problem　he　fired　Sergeant　Tao,　and　ordered　him　back　to　the　army.　The　quicker　the　better.

Sergeant　Tao　told　Phoenix　Girl　he　wasn't　going　back　to　camp.　He　was　deserting.　He　packed　a　few　things　that　night　and　prepared　to　slip　out.　Phoenix　Girl　did　likewise,　but　he　wasn't　taking　her,　he　said.　Certainly　not.　She　replied　that　she　would　follow　him　wherever　he　went.　Was　that　not　a　wife's　duty？Marry　the　cock　and　follow　him;　marry　the　dog　and　go　where　he　goes.　Sergeant　Tao　found　that　very　amusing.　He　gave　her　a　sound　slap　on　the　backside　and　flung　her　on　the　bed.　Then　he　told　her　the　news.　He　had　been　married　to　another　woman,　and　had　had　several　children.　Their　marriage　didn't　even　count.　The　best　thing　she　could　do　was　to　go　home　to　her　mother　and　forget　it　all.

“The　bastard,　the　low_born　son　of　a　diseased　...,"　cried　Mrs.　Fang.　No　one　else　talked.　Phoenix　Girl　began　to　cry.　She　regained　control　of　herself　long　enough　to　say　that　Sergeant　Tao　had　sold　all　her　jewelry　and　everything　she　had　of　value.　All　that　she　had　brought　home　was　a　baby　that　was　already　leaping　in　her　belly.

Presently　Pao　Ching　stirred　from　his　coma.　“My　elder　brother　was　right,"　he　said　slowly.　“All　entertainers　are　cursed."

Lotus　Charm　took　Phoenix　Girl　by　the　arm.　“Come　into　my　room　and　freshen　up,"　she　suggested.　“You'll　feel　better　with　some　powder　and　lipstick　on."

Phoenix　Girl　smiled　at　her　for　the　first　time,　and　there　was　genuine　affection　in　her　regard.　“How　right　you　are,　dear　little　sister.　It's　no　good　weeping　over　things　that　are　past."