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All of Third Sister’s screams of the past weeks took on a different meaning. Did she know on that first day that something bad might happen? Was that why she had resisted? HadMama made some terrible mis-take in her haste? Had Third Sister’s blood poisoning been triggered by wrinkles in her bindings? Was she weak from bad nutrition as Madame Wang claimed I had been? What had she done in her previous life to deserve thispunishment now?

Mama scrubbed at those feet, trying to remove the infection. Third Sister fainted. The water in the bucket became murky with noxious discharge. Finally Mama pulled thebroken appendages from the bucket and patted them dry.

“Mother,” Mama called to her mother-in-law, “you have more experience than I. Please help me.”

But Grandmother didn’t stir under her quilts. Mama and Aunt disagreed about what to do

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“We should leave her feet open ”to the air,Mama suggested.

“You know that’s the worst thing,” Aunt came back. “Many of her bones have alreadybroken. If you don’t bind them, they will never heal properly. She’ll be crippled.Unmarriageable.”

“I would rather keep her on this earth unmarried than lose her forever.”

“Then she would have no purpose and no value,” Aunt reasoned.

“Your mother love tells you this is no future.”

The whole time they argued, Third Sister didn’t move. Alum was spread over her skin and her feet were rebound. The next day, the snow still fell and she was worse. Though we were not rich, Baba went out into the storm and brought back the village doctor, wholooked at Third Sister and shook his head. It was the first time I saw that gesture, whichmeans that we are powerless to stop the soul of a loved one from leaving for the spiritworld. You can fight it, but once death has grasped hold, nothing can be done. We are meek in the face of the afterworld’s desires. The doctor offered to make a poultice andprepare herbs for a tea, but he was a good and honest man. He understood our situation.

“I can do these things for your little girl,” he confided to Baba, “but they will be money spent on a no-use cause.”

But the bad news of that day was not yet done. While we kowtowed to the doctor, helooked round the room and saw Grandmother under her quilts. He moved to her, touchedher forehead, and listened to the secret pulses that measured her chi. He looked up at my father. “Your honored mother is very sick. Why did you not mention this before?”

How could Baba answer this and save face? He was a good son, but he was also a man,and this business fell within the inner realm. Still, Grand-mother’s welfare was his mostimportant filial duty. While he was downstairs smoking his pipe with his brother andwaiting for winter to end, upstairs two people had fallen under the spell of ghost spirits.

Again, our whole family set to questioning. Was too much time spent on worthless girlsthat the one woman of value and esteem in our home was allowed to weaken? Had allthat walking back and forth across the room with Third Sister stolen Grandmother’sstorehouse of steps? Had Grandmother—tired of hearing Third Sister’s screams—closeddown her chi to shut out the irksome racket? Had the ghost spirits who’d come to prey on Third Sister been tempted by the possibility of another victim? After so much noise, andafter all the attention that had been paid in recent weeks to Third Sister, all focus now shifted to Grandmother. My father and uncle left her side only to smoke, eat, or relieve themselves. Aunt assumed all the household duties, making meals for everyone, washing,and caring for all of us. I never saw Mama sleep. As the first daughter-in-law, she had two main purposes in life: to provide sons to carry on the family and to care for her husband’smother. She should have watched Grandmother’s health more assiduously. Instead, she第 22 页 共 189 页

had allowed man-hope to enter her mind by shifting her attention to me and my good-luck future. Now, with the fierce determination born of her earlier neglectfulness, sheperformed all the prescribed rituals, preparing special offerings to the gods and to our ancestors, praying and chanting, even making soup from her own blood to rebuildGrandmother’s life force.

Since everyone was occupied with Grandmother, Beautiful Moon and I were assigned towatch over Third Sister. We were only seven and did not know the words or actions tocomfort her. Her torment was great, but it was not the worst I would see in my lifetime.She died four days later, enduring more suffering and pain than was fair for such a shortlife. Grandmother died one day after that. No one saw her suffer. She just curled up smaller and smaller like a caterpillar under an autumnal blanket of leaves.

the ground was too hard for burial to take place. Grandmother’s two remaining sworn sisters attended to her, sang mourning songs, wrapped her body in muslin, and dressedher for life in the afterworld. She was an old woman, who had lived a long life, so her eternity clothes had many layers. Third Sister was only six. She did not have a lifetime ofclothing to keep her warm or many friends to meet her in the afterworld. She had her summer outfit and her winter outfit, and even these were things that Elder Sister and Ihad worn first. Grandmother and Third Sister spent the rest of winter under a shroud ofsnow.

I would say that between the time of Grandmother’s and Third Sister’s deaths and theirburials much changed in the women’s chamber. Oh, we still did our rounds. We stillbathed our feet every four days and changed into smaller shoes every two weeks. Butnow Mama and Aunt watched over us with great vigilance. And we were heedful too,never resisting or complaining. When it came time for bathing our feet, our eyes were as riveted to the pus and blood as Mama’s and Aunt’s. Each night after we girls were finallyleft alone, and every morning before our routine began again, Elder Sister checked our legs to make sure we were not growing serious infections.

I often think back on those first few months of our footbinding. I remember how Mama,Aunt, Grandmother, and even Elder Sister recited certain phrases to encourage us. One ofthese was “Marry a chicken, stay with a chicken; marry a rooster, stay with a rooster.” Like so much back then, I heard the words but didn’t understand the meaning. Foot size would determine how marriageable I was. My small feet would be offered as proof to my prospective in-laws of my personal discipline and my ability to endure the pain ofchildbirth, as well as whatever misfortunes might lie ahead. My small feet would show theworld my obedience to my natal family, particularly to my mother, which would also make a good impression on my future mother-in-law. The shoes I embroidered wouldsymbolize to my future in-laws my abilities at embroidery and thus other house learning.And, though I knew nothing of this at the time, my feet would be something that wouldhold my husband’s fascination during the most private and intimate moments between a man and a woman. His desire to see them and hold them in his hands never diminished

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during our lives together, not even after I had five children, not even after the rest of mybody was no longer an enticement to do bed business.

The Fan

six months passed since our footbinding, two months since Grandmother and Third Sisterdied. The snow melted, the earth softened, and Grandmother and Third Sister wereprepared for burial. There are three events in Yao lives—no, all Chinese lives—on whichthe most money is spent: birth, marriage, and death. We all wish to be born well andmarry well; we all wish to die well and be buried well. But fate and practical circumstanceinfluence these three events like no others. Grandmother was the matriarch and had ledan exemplary life; Third Sister had accomplished nothing. Baba and Uncle gatheredtogether what money they had and paid a coffin maker in Shangjiangxu to construct agood coffin for Grandmother. Baba and Uncle made a small box for Third Sister.Grandmother’s sworn sisters came again, and at last we held the funeral. Once again, Isaw how poor we were. If we had more money, perhaps Baba would have built a widowarch to commemorate Grandmother’s life. Perhaps he would have used the diviner to finda pro itious spot with the best feng shui elements for her burial or hired a palanquin totransp

pport his daughter and niece, who still could not walk very far, to the grave site.These things were not possible. Mama carried me on her back, while Aunt carriedBeautiful Moon. Our simple procession went to a place not far from the house, yet still onour leased land. Baba and Uncle kowtowed three times in succession, again and again.Mama lay on the burial mound and begged forgiveness. We burned paper money, but nogifts other than candy were given to the mourners who came.

Although Grandmother could not read nu shu, she still had the thirdday wedding booksthat had been given to her at her marriage so many years before. These, along with a fewother treasures, were gathered together by her two late-life sworn sisters and burned ather grave so the words would accompany her to the afterworld. They chanted together:“We hope you find our other sworn sisters. The three of you will be happy. Don’t forgetus. The fibers between us are connected even if the lotus root is cut. Such is the strengthand longevity of our relationship.” Nothing was said about Third Sister. Not even ElderBrother had any messages to give. Since she had no writing of her own, Mama, Aunt, andElder Sister wrote messages in nu shu to introduce her to our ancestors, and then weburned them after the men left.

Though we were still at the beginning of our three-year mourning period forGrandmother, life continued. The most agonizing part of my footbinding was behind me.My mother didn’t have to beat me so much, and the pain from the bindings had lessened.The best thing for Beautiful Moon and me to do now was sit and let our feet bond intotheir new shape. In the early morning hours, the two of us—under Elder Sister’ssupervision—practiced new stitches. In the late morning, Mama taught me how to spincotton; in the early afternoon, we switched to weaving. Beautiful Moon and her motherdid the same lessons only in reverse. Late afternoons were devoted to the study of nu shu,

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with Aunt teaching us simple words with patience and great humor.

Without having to oversee Third Sister’s binding, Elder Sister, now eleven, went back toher studies of the womanly arts. Madame Gao, the local matchmaker, came regularly tonegotiate Contracting a Kin, the first of the five sta es that would make up the weddingprocess for both Elder Brother and Elder Sister. A g

ggirl from a family much like ours hadbeen found in Madame Gao’s natal village of Gaojia to marry Elder Brother. This was agood thing for the potential daughter-in-law, because Madame Gao did so much businessbetween the two villages that nu shu letters could regularly be sent back and forth.Beyond this, Aunt had married out from Gaojia. Now she would be able to communicatewith her family more easily. She was so gleeful that for days everyone could see throughher smile and into the great cave of her mouth with all its jagged teeth.

Elder Sister, acknowledged by all who met her to be quiet and pretty, was to marry out toa family better than ours that lived in faraway Getan Village. We were sad that eventuallywe would not see her as often as we would like, but we would have her company foranother six years before the actual marriage, then another two or three years after thatbefore she left us for good. In our county, as is well known, we follow the custom of buluofujia, not falling permanently into our husbands’ homes until we become pregnant.

Madame Gao was not like Madame Wang in any way. The word to describe her is coarse.Where Madame Wang wore silk, Madame Gao dressed in homespun cotton. WhereMadame Wang’s words were as slick as goose fat, Madame Gao’s sentiments were asabrasive as the barks of a village dog. She would come up to the women’s chamber, perchon a stool, and demand to see the feet of all of the girls in the Yi household. Of course,Elder Sister and Beautiful Moon complied. But even though my fate was already underthe direction of Madame Wang, Mama said I should show my feet as well. The thingsMadame Gao said! “The cleft is as deep as this girl’s inner folds. She will make herhusband a happy man.” Or, “The way her heel curves down like a sac with her forefootpointed out just so will remind her husband of his own member. All day long that luckyman will be thinking of bed business.” At the time I did not understand the meaning. OnceI did, I was embarrassed that these kinds of things had been spoken in front of Mama andAunt. But they had laughed along with the matchmaker. We three girls had joined in, but,as I said, these words and their meanings were far beyond our experience or knowledge.

That year, on the eighth day of the fourth lunar month, Elder Sister’s sworn sisters met atour house for Bull Fighting Day. The five girls were already showing how well they wouldmanage their future households by renting out the rice their families had given them toform the sisterhood and using the earnings to finance their celebrations. Each girlbrought a dish from home: rice-noodle soup, beet greens with preserved egg, pig’s feet inchili sauce, preserved long bean, and sweet rice cakes. A lot of cooking was donecommunally too, with all the girls gathering to roll dumplings, which were steamed andthen dipped in soy sauce mixed with lemon juice and chili oil. They ate, giggled, andrecited nu shu stories like “The Tale of Sangu,” in which the daughter of a rich man

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remains loyal to her poor husband through many ups and downs until they are rewardedfor their fidelity by becoming mandarins; or “The Fairy Carp,” in which a fish transforms itself into a lovely young woman who then falls in love with a brilliant scholar, only tohave her true form revealed.

But their favorite was “The Story of the Woman with Three Brothers.”

They did not know all of it and they didn’t ask Mama to lead the call-andresponse,although she had memorized many of the words. Instead, the sworn sisters begged Aunt to guide them through the story. Beautiful Moon and I joined their entreaties, because this well-loved true-life tale— tragic and darkly funny at the same time—was a good way for us to practice the chanting associated with our special women’s writing.

One of Aunt’s sworn sisters had given the story to her embroidered on a handkerchief.Aunt pulled out the piece of cloth and carefully unfolded it. Beautiful Moon and I came tosit next to her so we could follow the embroidered characters as she chanted.

“A woman once had three brothers,” my aunt began. “They all had wives, but she was notmarried. Though she was virtuous and hardworking, her brothers would not offer a dowry. How unhappy she was! What could she do?”

My mother’s voice answered. “She’s so miserable, she goes to the garden and hangs herself from a tree.”

Beautiful Moon, my elder sister, the sworn sisters, and I joined in for the chorus. “The eldest brother walks through the garden and pretends not to see her. The second brother walks through the garden and pretends not to see that she’s dead. The third brother sees her, bursts into tears, and takes her body inside.”