bowing to the crowd, the young women raised their brows and began to recite in unison: “We have natural feet, no abnormal fads, our bodies are precious, they came from moms and dads” — they bounced up and down, raising their feet high in the air to show their natural beauty — “we can run and jump and play in the rain, not like crippled feet that bring so much pain” — more bouncing and running around — “the feudal system is bad for a woman, who is only a toy, but we have natural feet, so take off your wrappings, girls, and share in our joy.”
As the “natural feet” girls hopped and bounced away, their place was taken by an orthopedic surgeon who brought an oversized model of the foot to demonstrate how the broken bones of bound feet forever altered the shape of the foot.
Just before the meeting ended, Magistrate Niu had a brainstorm. He ordered that Northeast Gaomi’s number one golden lotus come up and bear witness to how disgusting bound feet can be.
Mother nearly passed out from fright and hid behind her aunt. “The county magistrate’s orders are not to be ignored,” the town head said. But Mother wrapped her arms tightly around her aunt’s waist and begged her not to make her go up there.
“Go on, Xuan’er,” her aunt coaxed. “Show them your feet. As long as they know what they’re looking for, you’ll do fine. Don’t tell me that golden lotuses I personally created won’t compete favorably with the hooves on those six donkeys.”
So her aunt escorted her up front, and then stepped aside. Xuan’er swayed as she walked, like a willow in the wind, and in the eyes of tradition-bound Northeast Gaomi men, that was the mark of true beauty. They stared at her, desperately wishing that by raising their eyelashes they could lift a leg of her trousers for a good view of one of those tiny feet. Like a moth drawn to a flame, the magistrate’s gaze flew to that spot beneath her trouser hem, and he just stood there for a moment, mouth agape, before regaining his composure. “Just look,” he announced. “Such a lovely girl turned into a freak incapable of manual labor.”
Unmindful of the consequences, Mother’s aunt refuted the magistrate’s comment. “A golden lotus girl is meant to be pampered. Manual labor is what servants are for!”
With her aunt’s gaze boring into him, the magistrate asked, “Are you the girl’s mother?”
“What if I am?”
“Are her bound feet your handiwork?”
“What if they are?”
“Take this shrewish woman into custody,” he ordered, “and keep her there as long as her daughter’s feet remain bound.”
“I’d like to see any of you try!” Big Paw Yu thundered as he leaped out from the crowd, fists clenched, to protect his wife.
“Who are you?” the magistrate asked.
“I’m your elder,” he said defiantly.
“Seize him!” the enraged magistrate demanded.
Some of his underlings stepped up warily and reached out to restrain Big Paw, who brushed them aside with a swipe of his arm.
Now the crowd got involved, and amid the flurry of opinions, some people picked up dirt clods and threw them in the direction of the six natural feet girls.
The people of Northeast Gaomi have always been known for their boldness, something the magistrate must have been aware of. “I have important business to take care of today, so I’ll let you off this time. But unbinding women’s feet is national policy, and anyone who defies that policy can expect to be severely punished.”
The magistrate threaded his way through the crowd and climbed into his car. “Let’s go,” he told his chauffeur, who went to the front of the car and turned the crank until the engine started with a loud cough. The natural feet girls and other hangers-on piled in as the chauffeur ran around to the driver’s seat, grabbed the steering wheel, and drove off, leaving a trail of smoke behind.
A youngster in the crowd clapped. “Our Big Paw Yu scared off the county
As the “natural feet” girls hopped and bounced away, their place was taken by an orthopedic surgeon who brought an oversized model of the foot to demonstrate how the broken bones of bound feet forever altered the shape of the foot.
Just before the meeting ended, Magistrate Niu had a brainstorm. He ordered that Northeast Gaomi’s number one golden lotus come up and bear witness to how disgusting bound feet can be.
Mother nearly passed out from fright and hid behind her aunt. “The county magistrate’s orders are not to be ignored,” the town head said. But Mother wrapped her arms tightly around her aunt’s waist and begged her not to make her go up there.
“Go on, Xuan’er,” her aunt coaxed. “Show them your feet. As long as they know what they’re looking for, you’ll do fine. Don’t tell me that golden lotuses I personally created won’t compete favorably with the hooves on those six donkeys.”
So her aunt escorted her up front, and then stepped aside. Xuan’er swayed as she walked, like a willow in the wind, and in the eyes of tradition-bound Northeast Gaomi men, that was the mark of true beauty. They stared at her, desperately wishing that by raising their eyelashes they could lift a leg of her trousers for a good view of one of those tiny feet. Like a moth drawn to a flame, the magistrate’s gaze flew to that spot beneath her trouser hem, and he just stood there for a moment, mouth agape, before regaining his composure. “Just look,” he announced. “Such a lovely girl turned into a freak incapable of manual labor.”
Unmindful of the consequences, Mother’s aunt refuted the magistrate’s comment. “A golden lotus girl is meant to be pampered. Manual labor is what servants are for!”
With her aunt’s gaze boring into him, the magistrate asked, “Are you the girl’s mother?”
“What if I am?”
“Are her bound feet your handiwork?”
“What if they are?”
“Take this shrewish woman into custody,” he ordered, “and keep her there as long as her daughter’s feet remain bound.”
“I’d like to see any of you try!” Big Paw Yu thundered as he leaped out from the crowd, fists clenched, to protect his wife.
“Who are you?” the magistrate asked.
“I’m your elder,” he said defiantly.
“Seize him!” the enraged magistrate demanded.
Some of his underlings stepped up warily and reached out to restrain Big Paw, who brushed them aside with a swipe of his arm.
Now the crowd got involved, and amid the flurry of opinions, some people picked up dirt clods and threw them in the direction of the six natural feet girls.
The people of Northeast Gaomi have always been known for their boldness, something the magistrate must have been aware of. “I have important business to take care of today, so I’ll let you off this time. But unbinding women’s feet is national policy, and anyone who defies that policy can expect to be severely punished.”
The magistrate threaded his way through the crowd and climbed into his car. “Let’s go,” he told his chauffeur, who went to the front of the car and turned the crank until the engine started with a loud cough. The natural feet girls and other hangers-on piled in as the chauffeur ran around to the driver’s seat, grabbed the steering wheel, and drove off, leaving a trail of smoke behind.
A youngster in the crowd clapped. “Our Big Paw Yu scared off the county
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