Free The Real Story of Ah-Q by Lu Xun Page B

two of these.’
    ‘He can’t breathe properly, his nostrils shake every time he takes a breath.’
    ‘That’s because his Fire is vanquishing his Metal.’
    His verdict delivered, Ho closed his eyes; Mrs Shan felt it would be rude to press him further. A man in his thirties, seated opposite the doctor, had already scribbled out a prescription.
    ‘You won’t get the first item, the Baby Life-Saver Wonder Pill,’ he said, pointing at one line of characters, ‘anywhere except Jias’ Welfare Pharmacy.’
    Mrs Shan took the prescription and walked off with it, thinking to herself. Though she was only a simple, uneducated sort of a woman, she knew that Dr Ho’s surgery, the pharmacy and her own home formed the three corners of a triangle; naturally, her most expeditious course would be to buy the medicine before going on home. And so that was where she headed. The shop assistant, his warped fingernails as overextended as the doctor’s, slowly read the prescription then, just as slowly, wrapped the medicine. As Mrs Shan held Bao’er in her arms while she waited, the boy suddenly tugged on a tuft of his dishevelled hair, a movement she had never seen him make before. She was stupid with terror.
    The sun was now high in the sky. Walking along with the medicine and a fidgeting child in her arms, Mrs Shan began to feel the weight of them; home began to seem ever more distant. Eventually, she sat down to rest at the threshold of one of the village’s better establishments, her clothes clinging clammily to her – she suddenly realized she was covered in sweat. Bao’er seemed to have fallen asleep. Up she got, and went slowly on her way.
    ‘Let me take him!’ said a voice – remarkably similar to Ah-wu’s – in her ear.
    Turning, she discovered a drowsy-looking Blue-Skinned Ah-wu behind her.
    Although Mrs Shan had indeed been hoping that Heaven would send down a guardian angel of some kind, her strong preference would have been for someone other than Ah-wu. But here he was, and after a few attempts to demur, she submitted. Out stretched his arm, insinuating itself down between her bosom and her child, until Bao’er was secured. Mrs Shan’s breast surged with heat, the flush spreading across her face, and back to her ears.
    Side by side they walked along, about two or three feet apart, Ah-wu making desultory attempts at conversation, most of which Mrs Shan chose to ignore. His gallant cravings quickly satisfied, Ah-wu soon handed the child back into his mother’s arms, muttering something about some lunch engagement made the day before. Fortunately, she was no longer far from home – she could see old Mrs Wang from over the way sitting at the side of the road.
    ‘How is he?’ Mrs Wang called out. ‘Have you seen the doctor?’
    ‘Just been. You must have seen a lot of this kind of thing over the years, Mrs Wang. Would you take a look at him for me?’
    ‘Hmmm.’
    ‘What d’you think?’
    ‘Hmmm.’ Mrs Wang took a long, hard look, nodded twice, then shook her head twice.
    It was past noon by the time Bao’er had had his medicine. Mrs Shan studied his face, which now seemed much more peaceful. Early in the afternoon, he suddenly opened his eyes, cried out ‘Mama’, then closed them again, as if about to drop off to sleep. Not long after, seedpearls of sweat seeped through on to his forehead and the tip of his nose, sticking to Mrs Shan’s hand like glue. Frantically, she felt his chest and burst into uncontrollable sobs.
    As Bao’er’s breathing steadied, then stopped, Mrs Shan’s sobs graduated into full-blown wails. A crowd of interested parties swiftly gathered: Mrs Wang, Ah-wu and a few others barged into the room, while the manager of the tavern loitered outside with Gong and company. Quickly assuming command, Mrs Wang gave orders for a chain of paper money to be burnt, then relieved Mrs Shan of two stools and five items of clothing, as security for borrowing two silver dollars – the funeral