Free Old Town by Lin Zhe Page A

“Western religion” households said that she had followed the call of God to go off and spread the Gospel. But those who had quite different feelings about the Western religion considered such talk to be the same as the Guo family’s empty coffin—the more that was hidden, the more was exposed, and that’s all there was to it.
    Old Town’s photo studio was next door to the Guo Family Cloth Shop. There my grandma left more than a few memories of her youth. For sure, Third Sister also had many photographs taken. The Guo family refused to keep such shameful memories, particularly the wife of Granny’s younger brother. Pure as the driven snow all her life, she would not hang any photograph of Third Sister on her wall.

4.
     
    I T’S N EW Y EAR’S now. The older members of the family have to give the festive presents of a little cash to the children . I receive a lot more money than my peers. My cousins almost don’t know my granny’s relatives, but I’m a member of this large clan. Because I am Granny’s little tail, wherever she goes, I tag along behind.
    I have two great-aunts and four great-uncles. First Great-Uncle is a muddled drunk. On the first day of the New Year when we meet, he still knows enough to fish out a few small coins to give me. There are numerous older children and they will all give me money.
    That night, before falling asleep, I’m like a miser, counting this year’s take. The total wouldn’t have exceeded the equivalent of fifty yuan today, but for me then that simply would have been an astronomical sum. Counting money is really fun. Granny is at my side and, watching me with a smile, asks, “How much? Granny will make it a round sum.” Suddenly I think I should also have a third great-auntie. Big Great-Auntie and Fourth Great-Auntie both give me New Year’s money every year. Granny ranks second among them in age, so where has Third Great-Auntie gone to? How come she doesn’t give me New Year’s money? I ask Granny this. The smile on her kindly face doesn’t change, just seems to add a trace of sorrow. “She left us when she was quite young.” I don’t ask the reason for this, and lower my head to continue counting the money.
    Third Sister was dead. After a few years, the Guos no longer thought of that coffin as having been empty. People’s memories have a way of rewriting history and creating stories.
    When Grandpa was seriously ill, Great-Auntie lived in Hangzhou at her eldest daughter’s home. When she found out that Second Sister’s husband was about to enter the True World, that very night she rushed back to Old Town by train. Her daughter bought her a sleeping-car ticket but she never lay down for a minute. Instead, this eighty-year-old lady actually spent the entire night in the dining car writing a letter. Even when young, she had always liked writing letters. At that time, her husband’s family as well as her own all rode the buses for no more than eight fen , but she preferred to spend that amount on postage stamps. Frequently she had to add another eight fen for overweight. Anyway, writing letters was her hobby. She hunched over the swaying and lurching dining table and wrote to Third Sister: Second Sister’s husband has traveled to the end of his human life . Great-Auntie’s memory restores order out of chaos. She thought of Third Sister and believed that she lived in this world in perfectly good condition.
    My dear Third Sister, Second Sister’s husband, Ninth Brother, is about to return to his heavenly home. He has been the best doctor in the world, the best husband, and the most ethical and compassionate man. You don’t know him, although you and he worshiped together at the West Gate church. Maybe you never paid any attention to him. But Ninth Brother knew you, because in those days you were so extraordinarily pretty. Ninth Brother liked you and hoped that he and you might form the Hundred-Year Happy Union. His big sister-in-law had a matchmaker visit us and