Free Chronicle of a Blood Merchant by Yu Hua, Andrew F. Jones

toward him. “I suppose you’ve forgotten that summer when you took advantage of my dad’s going to the public toilet and pulled me onto the bed. You’re a heartless bastard. What did I do in my past life to deserve this? What did I do to deserve your bastard seed finding its way into my belly?”
    He Xiaoyong brushed away her finger with his hand. “Do you think I would waste my precious seed on a bitch like you? That kid is Xu Sanguan’s bastard, and there’s two more where he came from.”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Xu Yulan’s tears began to come. “Everyone who sees Yile says so. They all say he’s the spitting image of He Xiaoyong. Don’t think you can deny it. Even if your face was scarred by fire or scalded by coals, you wouldn’t be able to deny it. Because he looks more and more like you every day.”
    When she saw that a group of spectators had begun to gather around and watch, He Xiaoyong’s woman chimed in, “Take a good look. She’s a shameless bitch, this one. Trying to steal my man in broad daylight.”
    Xu Yulan swung around to look at her. “If I was going to steal anyone, it sure as hell wouldn’t be He Xiaoyong. He Xiaoyong! Back then I was as pretty as a flower. Everybody called me the Fried Dough Queen. He Xiaoyong was nothing to me. I threw He Xiaoyong out like a piece of trash, and you stooped down to collect him like he was some kind of treasure.”
    He Xiaoyong’s woman straightened and slapped Xu Yulan across the face. Xu Yulan slapped her right back. In an instant their arms were flailing through the air, and each had grasped hold of the other’s hair and was tugging with all her might. As she pulled at Xu Yulan’s hair, He Xiaoyong’s woman called out to her husband, “He Xiaoyong! He Xiaoyong!”
    He Xiaoyong stepped forward, grabbed hold of Xu Yulan’s arms, and squeezed them so hard that she was forced to let go of her opponent with an anguished “Aiya!” He let fly with a slap to her face that sent her tumbling to the ground.
    Xu Yulan, rubbing her own face, burst into tears. “He Xiaoyong, you ought to be cut to pieces with a thousand knives! You’re a bastard, a son of a bitch, your conscience must have been eaten by a pack of dogs.” She stood up from the pavement and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Just you wait, He Xiaoyong! You won’t live to see another day. I’ll send Xu Sanguan after you with a cleaver. He’ll chop you to pieces. You won’t live to see another day.”
    But Xu Sanguan didn’t support the death sentence Xu Yulan had pronounced so summarily for He Xiaoyong. When Xu Yulan got home, Xu Sanguan was still working on his mop. Xu Yulan sat down exhaustedly across from him, her face streaked with tears, and gazed in his direction. After a while her tears began to fall again.
    When Xu Sanguan saw that she was crying, he knew she hadn’t succeeded in getting any money from He Xiaoyong. “I knew you’d come back empty-handed.”
    Xu Yulan said, “Xu Sanguan, go chop him to pieces.”
    Xu Sanguan said, “You fell to fucking pieces as soon as you saw him, didn’t you? You went soft, right? Couldn’t bear to ask for the money after all?”
    Xu Yulan said, “Xu Sanguan, go chop him to pieces.”
    Xu Sanguan said, “I’m telling you, if you don’t get the money today, Blacksmith Fang is going to come tomorrow and confiscate all our things. He’s going to take your bed, your table, your clothes, your Snowflower cream, your silk scarf. He’s gonna fucking take it all away.”
    Xu Yulan began to weep. “I asked them for the money. They wouldn’t give it to me. And they pulled my hair, and he slapped me right across my face. Xu Sanguan, are you actually going to let someone get away with treating your woman that way? Xu Sanguan, I’m begging you to go chop him to pieces. There’s a cleaver in the kitchen. I sharpened it just yesterday. Go cut him to pieces.”
    Xu Sanguan said, “What do you think would happen to me if I chopped