"If you want to die, die yourself!"
As Dandan spoke, she flicked her braid and deliberately walked in the other direction, exiting Hufang Bridge and heading towards the east side of the main street.
"Dandan, Dandan!" Zhigao chased after her, "I was asking for it. I kowtowed once and farted three times. I did more evil than good. I'm a gray rat, I'm Pigsy..."
"Oh, so you're indirectly calling your mother an old sow?" Dandan said.
"No, no, no!" Zhigao panicked, wondering how to get Dandan to stop waving her hands. He beckoned her over, but she refused. He walked over, and because he was only wearing a tank top, he gestured to her armpit, emphasizing:
"I'll show you a secret: I have a disease here, see? It's right here. And nobody's ever seen it before. See, isn't it bigger than yours?"
"Ugh, it's just like a bug, hiding in its nest."
Zhigao laughed.
He was overjoyed and couldn't wait to tell Dandan everything on his mind, something he had never longed for before.
It's wonderful to have someone who listens, argues, and is completely open and honest, who doesn't hold grudges even about petty squabbles, and who is straightforward, genuine, and who shares both laughter and tears...
Hmm, what about Huaiyu?
—Suddenly I remembered Huaiyu.
"Dandan, you go home first, I'm going to find Huaiyu."
After bidding farewell to Dandan, Zhigao unexpectedly encountered Da Liu on the road. Da Liu was a drummer who carried a small drum and a cloth bag tucked under his arm. He specialized in buying and selling valuables, going from street to street in search of business. He frequently visited many once-prosperous families that had fallen on hard times.
This man was tall, with a long, thin face. Even in the sweltering heat, he wore a gray cloth gown, exuding a refined air. He tapped a small drum while shouting:
"I'll buy old clothes and woodenware. I'll also buy foreign bottles and jewels."
Upon seeing Zhigao, Da Liu asked:
"Is your sister home? She asked me to check out one of her shops in the next couple of days."
"He's not here," Zhigao replied to Da Liu.
She's not selling.
"What are you 'selling around'?" Liu Ren asked, glancing sideways. A hint of pettiness occasionally slipped out of this usually refined man.
"Jinzi".
"oh!"
Zhigao only thought about how his mother only had one tael of silver, and the pig was a gift from his missing father. If she sold it and then regretted it, she would inevitably miss it day and night, always wanting it back. Zhigao guessed that his mother was truly reluctant to part with it, so he immediately turned it down on her behalf. Then his heart was filled with unease. —Money! Finding a way to earn money was the only way forward.
Arriving at Huaiyu's large courtyard, I could hear wailing from afar. I saw a mother wailing and carrying her child out; the child had died of plague. Behind her were four others, ranging in age from three to eleven or twelve. That's the kind of resourcefulness the poor have; if one dies, it doesn't matter, there are still others. They'll pull along, and a few more will grow up, inheriting their ancestors' "poverty," their lifeline stubbornly continuing on.
The grieving mother led her brothers and sisters to wrap the body in a mat and take it away. —The death of one meant one less person to eat. Zhigao felt a warmth in his heart; he was still alive, it was truly a miracle.
After knocking on the Tang family's door, Zhigao went inside and, without waiting for Tang Laoda to speak or even greeting Huaiyu, knelt down abruptly: "Uncle Tang, I apologize to you!"
Old Tang was still furious and didn't know how to deal with him now.
Zhigao then said, "I'm sorry, I won't dare to host any more events in the future."
After saying that, he got up and fled as if he were running away.
Tang Laoda couldn't blame him anymore, and looking at the figure behind him, he said, "This kid just has bad luck."
Huaiyu said to his father:
“Whether your fate is good or bad, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do about it. Although it’s said that man proposes, God disposes, you still have to try. —Dad, I don’t plan to stay on Tianqiao forever. I’ll talk to Master Li tomorrow and ask him to give me a proper treading experience.”
"You can go practice your skills, I won't count the days, but if you go and play minor roles, when will you ever get ahead? You won't even have a chance to earn a living!"
"I'm going. I won't give up until I do."
Don't you consider my situation?
"Dad, what kind of place is it to make a living by selling your skills at a street stall? Even if you're incredibly wise, you're still just a nobody."
"Without Tianqiao, could you have grown up like this?" Old Tang was furious. He didn't want Huaiyu to follow him, forever stuck in poverty, forever a "Tianqiao performer." But Huaiyu's ambition, it turned out, was also to sell his art. Selling art, whether it's selling physical strength, singing, or acting, is still selling. Whether on Tianqiao or in a theater, what difference does it make? Only with an audience can one eat; relying on the men who support him, he was at the mercy of others—that wasn't secure for Huaiyu.
How can Tang persuade his stubborn son?
"Who is so lucky as to hit the jackpot as soon as they lift the curtain? If you struggle and can't climb up the dragon's tail, half your life has been wasted."
He kept repeating himself, but Huaiyu persisted, trembling for a long time: "A thousand lessons are not as good as one performance; just one time on stage is enough!"
Tang Laoda knew there was no turning back. His decision to follow Li Shengtian was predetermined; why hadn't he stopped him then? Now, the die was cast. Tang Laoda's anger, which had only just subsided somewhat thanks to Zhigao, flared up again:
"If you insist on going, then go! Get out of here!"
She pushed her grown-up son away.
Huaiyu stumbled and was pushed out the door.
Old Tang was still not satisfied:
"Don't come back after you've ruined your reputation!"
Then he sat down heavily. Children, one by one, are all like this: thinking they're capable, only to collapse in an instant, leaving the mess to be cleaned up by adults who wouldn't even dare offend a fly. In the morning, he was ambitious; at night, he was cunning and sturdy, his beard turning gray. Like an old horse, burdened, he only knew one path, so he could only move forward, slowly, yes, still burdened, until finally he made it through. How he wished he was carrying jade, not stone. Huaiyu, illiterate himself, begged a literate teacher to give him a good name, for he carried jade. A motherless child, even if jade, has the greatest deficiency. Old Tang thought for a moment, then opened the door, ready to bark Huaiyu in.
But when he looked around, there was no sign of him. The father was dejected and distressed.
—The child has grown up and has grown wings.