Chapter Fifty-Four: Broken Bones and Torn Tendons

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Chapter Fifty-Four: Bones Shattered, Tendons Torn

Little Blossom clutched a rag in her hand, her eyes brimming with tears, when suddenly someone landed a heavy slap on her comically styled three-pronged hair. Instinctively, she shrank her neck, then, on the verge of tears, pleaded, “Please, don’t hit me.”

“What are you crying for? Hurry up and cook the wontons, I’m starving. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight—sixteen bowls in total. Quick! If we’re late for school, are you going to take our punishment for us?”

The moment she heard that familiar voice, Little Blossom stopped crying at once. She wiped away her tears with her sleeve and, without a second thought, climbed onto a stool to prepare the wontons.

Seeing her flustered hurry, Tie Xinyuan sighed, lifted her off the stool, and took her place to cook the wontons himself.

Sixteen wontons per bowl—this was the rule set by Little Blossom’s mother. Tie Xinyuan decided to put only ten into each bowl; after all, those seven scoundrels had already filled themselves with a big meat pie each. The wontons in Little Blossom’s family were large and thin-skinned, delicious to eat, but challenging to cook. Left too long, the skins would disintegrate, turning the dish into a soup of noodle scraps and meatballs. Not cooked enough, and the wontons would still be raw.

Tie Xinyuan counted as he cooked, and by the time he reached two hundred, the wontons had boiled twice. He quickly scooped them out, poured chicken broth over them, sprinkled them with egg threads and scallions, and had Little Blossom serve the bowls to the rowdy little rascals making faces at her.

“Remember this: count to two hundred and the wontons will be done. Don’t get it wrong again. Your mother is sick, your father can’t help, so you must work hard yourself.”

Little Blossom, troubled, rubbed her hands on her apron and whispered, “I can’t count.”

...

Tie Xinyuan tapped his own head, fetched his counting rods from his satchel, and, finding that wasn’t enough, borrowed Zhang Fatty’s as well to make up two hundred. He placed the bundle in Little Blossom’s hands and instructed, “Each time you cook wontons, move one rod aside for each count. Remember, keep this pace...”

After teaching Little Blossom, Tie Xinyuan sat and waited for his own bowl of wontons.

After having a bowl of meatballs and a bowl of undercooked wontons, Tie Xinyuan finally managed to serve Zhang Fatty and the others a bowl of properly cooked wontons.

Zhang Fatty, his expression sly, paid for the meal and sidled up to Tie Xinyuan with a fawning smile. “Big Brother, from now on, your sister-in-law’s troubles are my troubles. We’ll eat wontons every day, and if anyone refuses, we’ll toss his satchel into the latrine.”

Just as Tie Xinyuan was about to lecture the eleven-year-old fat boy, a mocking voice rang out behind him: “Well, well, Brother Yuan, what a kind heart you have, helping our Little Blossom like this. Are you planning to bring her home as your maid?”

At the sound of that voice, Tie Xinyuan abandoned his plan to scold Zhang Fatty. He turned around to face Madam Gu and said, “My teacher told me that neighbors should watch out for each other. How could you bear to let a seven-year-old girl repeatedly ruin the wontons without lending a helping hand?”

Madam Gu twisted her ample hips and snapped, “I just like watching her drive away the customers. What, now this featherless little rooster knows how to guard his food?”

Tie Xinyuan saw that Fox was crouching down, so he pointed to the noodle stall across the way. Fox immediately scampered over to relieve himself—he had this habit of emptying his bowels at this time every day...

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When Fox had gone, Tie Xinyuan looked at Madam Gu, her hands on her hips, and said, “You’re a tigress, and I can’t afford to cross you. If you have the guts, say that to my mother’s face.”

Madam Gu snorted disdainfully. “What, is your widow mother going to eat me alive? Call your mother over if you dare. I’d like to see if she’ll be as rude to me as you are.”

“She might be even ruder than him,” came a voice. “Gu Tigress, I don’t care if you smother your own husband to death with your backside, but if you dare lay a finger on my son, I’ll stick a bodkin through your...”

Only then did Madam Gu realize Wang Rouhua was standing right behind her. Startled, she was about to launch into a tirade when Wang Rouhua calmly pointed to Madam Gu’s noodle stall. “Save your scolding. Your customers have all run off without paying.”

Madam Gu spun around and let out a screech like a butchered pig. A torrent of curses burst from her lips as she finally managed to grab hold of a man leaning against a post, retching. She tore into him, furious that these scoundrels dared eat and not pay.

The man finally broke free of her grip and shouted at her stall, “Who told you to make your food stink so bad? I had a fine drink last night, and now I’ve puked it all up. I’m not even asking you to pay for the wine, and you dare demand payment for the meal. All your food’s right there—I didn’t swallow a bite. It’s all in that pile, and then some. Take it!”

At his words, several onlookers began to retch themselves. Wang Rouhua’s face went white; fighting the urge to vomit, she bundled all the children into her cart and quickly drove away, leaving Madam Gu sobbing on the ground.

“Mother, I didn’t know you could curse like that,” Tie Xinyuan remarked.

Wang Rouhua managed a bitter smile. “If I didn’t know how to curse, how could I have raised you this far? But you—why did you have to be so ruthless? Madam Gu may be sharp-tongued, but that doesn’t mean you should ruin her business with Fox and leave her family starving.”

“Those who are pitiable must have done something to deserve it,” Tie Xinyuan replied indifferently.

Wang Rouhua looked at her son for a long while, until his smile faded. Only then did she speak. “My son should grow up to be a man like his father—a true hero, upright and strong—not a heartless... I don’t care where you heard that saying. I don’t want to hear you repeat it. All those things Madam Gu did, I’ve done too. You were raised on the money I earned with the very tricks you now scorn. There are no perfect people in this world—at least I’ve never met one. When your great-grandfather died, he said of himself: ‘I did some good for my family and country, and some evil deeds as well. I go to hell half black, half white—even King Yama won’t let me off.’ If even he was like that, what more can you say?”

Tie Xinyuan hung his head in silence, and Wang Rouhua did not press the lesson further. Mother and son remained quiet until they reached the entrance to Tutor Guo’s elementary school. There, Tie Xinyuan looked up at his mother and said, “I’ve thought it over. I believe it’s best to live by the rule: if others do not harm me, I will not harm them.”

Wang Rouhua met his determined gaze without flinching. “You’ve always been a child with your own mind. Since you think so, I can only wish you peace and joy all your life, and no regrets.”

His mother departed. Tie Xinyuan scratched his head, handed Fox—who had somehow jumped back onto the cart—to Shui Zhuer, who was waiting at the academy, and entered class with his peers. Today, their teacher would be giving a systematic review of all the lessons from the past days.

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Zhang Fatty asked thoughtfully, “Brother Yuan, you say if others don’t harm you, you won’t harm them. But what if someone insists on hurting you?”

Tie Xinyuan’s face hardened. “Bones shattered, tendons torn!”

Zhang Fatty shivered and quickly followed Tie Xinyuan into the classroom, feeling more intimidated by him today than ever before.

After sitting cross-legged at his desk for a short while, Tutor Guo entered, surveyed the room, and ordered the other students to practice calligraphy. He then approached Tie Xinyuan and said, “Recite your text.”

Tie Xinyuan composed himself and began, “Universal love is called benevolence; conduct in accordance with it is called righteousness; proceeding from this is called the Way; being sufficient in oneself and not relying on externals is called virtue...”

He recited only the first line, then fell silent. Zhang Fatty and the others watched anxiously, puzzled as to why Tie Xinyuan, who could usually recite the whole piece fluently, would suddenly forget.

Tutor Guo was in no hurry. Instead, he regarded Tie Xinyuan with an amused look, waiting for him to speak.

“Sir, today I helped a young girl and punished a sharp-tongued woman. I was quite satisfied with my actions, but my mother rebuked me for being too cruel. Now I find myself doubting what true universal love and benevolence are. Please enlighten me.”

Tie Xinyuan recounted in full the events of the morning.

Tutor Guo was silent for a long while before replying, “You are fortunate to have such a mother. In terms of breadth of heart, even I cannot compare to her. I can only explain from the perspective of the classics; whether you grasp it is up to you, not to me. Master Qingyuan Xingsi once said: ‘At the beginning of Zen, mountains are mountains, waters are waters. Upon awakening, mountains are not mountains, waters are not waters. When fully enlightened, mountains are again mountains, waters are again waters.’ Each stage brings its own understanding.

“Thus, the value in reading the classics lies in insight, in comprehension, in a meeting of minds—not in rote transmission. Han Changli said that universal love is called benevolence; actions appropriate to benevolence are righteousness; to go beyond benevolence and righteousness is the Way; to possess these within oneself and not rely on the external is virtue. That is his view of the foundation. Your mother has already achieved conduct appropriate to benevolence—she is a righteous person. You have seen a righteous person; follow in her footsteps. Why overthink it?”

“I feel my mother’s actions weren’t entirely correct.”

“Then act as you see fit. You are young and have plenty of time to retrace your steps if you discover you were wrong. Your understanding of the classics will only deepen for it. So, whatever you do, you have nothing much to lose.

“Since your mind is unsettled today, let’s pause your lessons. Copy three hundred characters—let your spirit settle before we discuss anything else.”

Tie Xinyuan saluted in agreement and left the classroom, sitting alone beneath the veranda with brush and ink. He chose a sheet of copybook and began to practice, feeling that, indeed, he needed some quiet.