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

more they argue, the raunchier it gets. You better go quick, or you’ll have no face left at all by the time they’re through.”
    Another person rushed in the door. “Xu Sanguan! Your woman’s fighting with He Xiaoyong’s woman. They’re pulling each other’s hair and spitting and even biting.”
    The last person to come through the door was Blacksmith Fang. Blacksmith Fang said, “Xu Sanguan, I was just walking by He Xiaoyong’s place. There’s a big crowd there, thirty people at the very least, and they’re all laughing at your woman. Your woman and He Xiaoyong’s woman are screaming and cursing and fighting, and believe me it’s not pretty. Everyone’s laughing and enjoying the show, and I even heard some of them saying that Xu Sanguan’s been selling blood just so he can keep getting cuckolded.”
    Xu Sanguan said, “Do I care? Let her do what she wants.”
    As he spoke, he sat down on the stool by the table, then glanced up toward Blacksmith Fang standing at the threshold.
    “She’s like a broken pot that’s not afraid of shattering, and I’m a dead pig who no longer minds that the water’s coming to a boil.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    Xu Sanguan was thinking of Lin Fenfang. Lin Fenfang, whose braids had once reached to her waist, had married a man who wore glasses, given birth to a boy and a girl, and proceeded to get fat. She grew fatter and fatter with each passing year, and in the end she cut her braids and wore her hair in a bob that was level with her ears.
    Xu Sanguan had watched as her neck got shorter and shorter, seen her shoulders thicken, looked on as the contours of her waistline softened and swelled, observed her fingers grow stubby with excess flesh. Yet he still held all the best silk cocoons in reserve for her even now.
    These days Lin Fenfang was usually to be seen walking through town carrying a shopping basket. Sometimes it was full of oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar. Sometimes it was loaded with fresh vegetables. Sometimes you might see a chunk of fatty pork or a pair of dead carp sticking out from amid the vegetables. When her basket was full of dirty clothes, she would head over to the riverbank, a little wooden stool dangling from one hand because she had grown too heavy to squat, and if she squatted by the riverbank her legs would eventually start to tremble under her weight. She would sit on the stool by the river, remove her shoes and socks, roll up her pants legs, and finally bring her plump feet to rest in the water. Only then would she take the clothes out from the basket and begin to do her wash.
    When Lin Fenfang walked down the street with her basket, her body swayed with each step because of her weight, and even the slowest pedestrians were always able to pass her by. She always walked cheerfully behind the rest, and everybody else knew that she was Lin Fenfang from the silk factory, the fattest woman in town, the woman who would gain weight even if she only ate rice, who could put on pounds just by drinking water.
    Xu Yulan usually saw Lin Fenfang when she went to buy vegetables in the morning. She would see her carrying her basket and moving from stall to stall, bargaining with each of the vendors, then slowly bending down and carefully sorting through the produce to select the best greens, cabbage, celery, or whatever else. Xu Yulan sometimes said to Yile, Erle, or Sanle, “You know Lin Fenfang at the silk factory? She uses fabric for two just for one new dress for herself.”
    Lin Fenfang knew all about Xu Yulan too. She knew that she was Xu Sanguan’s woman, that she had given him three sons, but that after having given birth three times, she hadn’t put on any weight at all, except perhaps a little bit around the stomach. When she talked with the vegetable sellers, her voice was loud and commanding, and she knew how to use it to press them for bargains. When she bought produce, she didn’t squeeze in with everybody else and pick out her vegetables one at a