Shifu, You'll Do Anything For a Laugh by Mo Yan, Howard Goldblatt Read Free Book Online

said excitedly:
    “Shifu, no one but a genius like you could come up with a brilliant idea like that. Now I can see how you were able to invent a two-wheeled, double-shared plow in the 1950s. How could what you're talking about be illegal? If something like that's illegal, well… Shifu, this will be a rest stop for lovers, not only civilized, but humane as well. This may not sound good, but you'll be setting up a … a sort of pay toilet! Forget your misgivings and go to it, Shifu. Tomorrow I'll get a bunch of guys together to help you put it in shape!”
    “Don't tell anyone about this. You're the only one who knows.”
    “As you say, Shifu.”
    “That includes my wife.”
    “Don't you worry, Shifu.”
    6
    He was sitting in the woods between the cemetery and man-made lake, leaning up against a poplar. A little path wound its way up the hill, disappearing from view from time to time. Every once in a while his gaze traveled past the woods up to the edge of the cemetery. He could only see a corner of his little cottage, but it was all right there in his mind.
    A few days before, he and Lü Xiaohu had gone back to the factory. After being let in by the gateman, he took advantage of a lifetime of “connections” to pick up discarded sheet metal, rivets, steel plate, and other items. The two men spent the next two days repairing and cleaning up the dilapidated bus hulk. They used the sheet metal to seal up the broken windows, then made doors out of steel plate, with locks on both sides. Once the repairs were made, Lü Xiaohu turned up a bucket of green paint and another of yellow. With the two men slapping on paint, this way and that, a broken-down hulk of an abandoned bus was transformed into something that looked like a military transport in a subtropical jungle. Master and apprentice stepped back to admire their work; the faint smell of paint made them happier than they could have expected.
    “Shifu,” Lü Xiaohu said, “it's done.”
    “Yes, it is.”
    “Should we set off some firecrackers to celebrate?”
    “Let's not.”
    “As soon as the paint dries, you're open for business.”
    “What do we do if there's trouble, little Hu?”
    “Don't sweat it, Shifu. I've got a cousin at the Public Security Bureau.”
    On the night before he opened for business Ding was so excited he didn't sleep a wink. His wife was so excited she couldn't stop hiccupping. They were both out of bed at four in the morning, and as she prepared his breakfast and lunch, she kept asking him what sort of job he'd found.
    “I already told you,” he said impatiently. “I'm going to be an advisor to some peasant entrepreneurs in the suburbs.”
    “I saw you and little Hu whispering back and forth,” she said between hiccups. “I doubt you were talking about being an advisor. Don't go getting involved in any shady practice at your age.”
    “Can't you find something good to say this early in the morning?” he replied angrily. “Come along with me if you don't believe me. You can let those peasant entrepreneurs feast their eyes on your esteemed countenance!”
    His comment took the wind out of her sails, and she shut up.
    From his vantage point under a tree, he watched a bunch of old folks hard at work on their morning exercises: airing caged birds, strolling, practicing Tai Chi, doing Chi Kung, some voice training. The sight of all those contented people depressed him. If he had a child — son or daughter, it made no difference — he wouldn't be here sitting under a tree early in the morning, laid off or not; he was like the fool who saw a rabbit run into a tree stump and break its neck, then spent his days after that waiting for a second rabbit to do the same. A layer of mist hung over the man-made lake as an orange glow appeared in the east. An old man doing voice exercises seemed to rock the woods:
    “Ow-ke — ow-ke —”
    Waves of melancholy washed over him, like the ripples on a breezy lake. But only for a moment. A new stage