Three Essays by Jiang Yibin

           Jiang Yibin

     

       I'm pairing movie characters     

        Ever since I was young, I've loved worrying about ancient people.

        For example, when seeing a knight on horseback in a comic book, with a trotting gait, she always worries about whether his crotch will be rubbed raw and bleeding. Also, how can they lift such heavy swords and spears and wield them with such apparent ease, as if they were chopsticks?

       For this, I was scolded by my older brothers many times. They called me a foolish treasure, and of course, they also called me Ha Bao. Their goal was the same: to force me to correct myself. So, for a long time, I stopped worrying about ancient people. (Fortunately, I finally learned an idiom: "Qi Ren You Tian," meaning the foolish old man who worried the sky would fall.) I thought I had overcome this bad habit. But later, when I saw the revolutionary model plays, my old habit recurred unknowingly, and quite severely.

        Watching those model operas, I was filled with doubt, with one question after another popping up: Where is Li Yuhe's wife in "The Red Lantern"? Where are A Qing Sao from "Shajiabang" and Fang Yuzhen from "The Harbor"'s husbands? And so on. Then there are girls like Li Tiemay and Chang Bao from "Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy," how come they don't even have mothers, it's really pitiful.

        Actually, I was also quite pitiful at the time. My parents were locked in a "cow shed" (a place for public denunciation during the Cultural Revolution) and being criticized. I wasn't allowed to study anymore and was kicked out of school. From a young age, I had to work in a coking plant to make a living (even now, I often visit the coking plant; it's surprisingly neglected). Despite this, I felt more fortunate than Tie Mei and Chang Bao. My parents, though severely tormented, were both alive, and I also had my brothers who often called me "Ha Bao." As for me, even though I wasn't allowed to study, I could still watch model operas at night, sometimes movies, and sometimes basketball games. Although I was tired and worked hard during the day, my evening entertainment life was quite rich. Tie Mei and the others probably didn't have that, did they?

         So, my worries about these lonely men and women being too lonely are not without reason. Apart from Xi'er and Dachun in "The White Haired Girl," who can finally be affectionate, singing and dancing, and don't require my effort, I have to worry about everyone else. Therefore, despite my young age, I carry two burdens: one is the burden of labor, and the other is the burden of worrying about them. In order for them to be happy too, and not always be in a situation of lonely men and women, I, in my childishness, secretly played matchmaker for them, that is, I "mismatched" them. I paired Sister-in-law A Qing with Li Yuhe, Fang Hai's Zhen with Yang Zirong... After solving their marital matters, I continued to find mothers for Li Tiemen and Chang Bao, who were five or six years older than me. Li Tiemen's mother became Sister-in-law A Qing, and Chang Bao's mother became Fang Hai's Zhen.

         Looking back now, it's certainly ridiculous, but what could a twelve or thirteen-year-old like me understand? Furthermore, I completely disregarded which era or region these characters lived in. I mixed them together awkwardly based entirely on my own wild imagination. In reality, I originally wanted to ask them if they agreed with my plan, but since they were all in movies, I couldn't ask them even if I wanted to. So, I felt a little resentful, thinking I hadn't done a good enough job as a matchmaker, and felt a little guilty.

         Later, I had a sudden flash of inspiration. I've got it! If the movie characters can't be reached or seen in person, why can't I ask the characters from model operas? We often put on plays in our mine, too!

         The decision was made, and there was a clear direction. Once, our mine's propaganda team performed "The Red Lantern." After the show, I braved the white snow and cold wind, quietly waiting by the back door of the auditorium for the actors who played Li Yuhe and Li Tiem ei to come out, so I could ask them questions one by one. After waiting for a long time, the actress who played Li Tiem ei finally came out, wrapped in a military coat. She was so charming and so suitable for the role of Tiem ei. At this moment, I boldly rushed up and asked, "Tiem ei, Tiem ei, I want to be your mother as A Qing Sao, is that okay?" I was expecting her approval, but before I could finish speaking, the actress, upon hearing this, became furious. She slapped me across the face and said, "What the hell are you talking about? I have a mother. Don't you know that?" She then left without even looking at how red and swollen my face was, let alone apologizing. So, when the actor who played Li Yuhe came out, I no longer dared to ask him anything. I ran away in a panic, for I was afraid of receiving another heavy slap, which my small frame probably wouldn't have been able to handle.

         Despite suffering a significant setback this time, I have not changed my mind. Because I believe my ideas are not wrong, but rather a beautiful act of helping others. Therefore, when I watch these model operas now, my feelings are likely different from others. Because in my heart, these characters are no longer alone, no longer lonely. They are like ordinary families, enjoying the happiness of family reunions, with cooking smoke rising, and a harmonious atmosphere. When I see Tie Mei, I think she also has a mommy. When I see Fang Hai Zhen, I think she also has a daughter... I feel I have done a great good deed. For this reason, I was so excited during that time that I couldn't sleep for a long time. If I had the habit of keeping a diary back then, it would surely be preserved until now.

         At that time, I didn't dare to tell anyone about my research findings. If I had, I might have been criticized too. I only told my brothers. Not only did they not praise me, but each of them slapped me hard across the face, yelling, "Ha Bao, stupid Bao." I figured they would have called me another "Bao," but they just hadn't thought of a suitable word yet, so they let me off for the time being.

         Since I started learning to write, I've wanted to put these past events into writing, but I couldn't find the right angle, so they've been brewing inside me. In 2016, I wrote a novella titled "The Little Matchmaker" based on these experiences, which was published in the first issue of "Red Rock" magazine in 2017. This finally settled a matter for me and provided closure for my naive past.

          Fashionable clothing   

         I have a photo of myself and a friend named Yue. We were both seventeen at the time.

         Unfortunately, we were not allowed to study when we were fifteen, because our fathers were labeled as "bull spirits and ghost monsters." Therefore, we went to work in the coking plant to earn a living, spending our youth in sweat. By the time we were seventeen, in June 1971, we had received notice to go to the countryside to "repair the earth." We were about to leave our parents and go to a remote rural area. To be honest, we were completely unprepared. Our future was a blur, and we didn't know how to proceed. We also prepared our luggage, hoes, and baskets, and of course, Chairman Mao's Little Red Book.

         In the few days before we left, we wandered back and forth on the road in the mining area, extremely flustered. Of course, nothing showed on our faces. We still walked with a poised gait (this poised gait was learned from Zhou Enlai, with the right hand bent at the waist, walking unhurriedly, which naturally attracted many glances), carefully observing the place we had lived in for over a decade, and couldn't help but feel a great reluctance to leave.

         Despite this, we still felt there was something left unfinished. What was it? We couldn't recall it for a moment. As we passed a photo studio by the roadside, both of us suddenly thought of it in unison, "Oh, that's right! We must take a photo before we join the queue, as a memento."

         We got busy.

         Although we're not girls, we still have a certain aesthetic sense. Even though we look skinny and somewhat awkward, we still want to make up for it with our clothing. Therefore, the first thing we discussed was clothing. After much deliberation, we finally settled on the most fashionable sky-blue tracksuit at the time, as it was a symbol of youth. My friend with the surname Yue already had one, but I didn't. It was impossible to buy one from a store because my family was struggling financially, and I was too embarrassed to ask for money. At this moment, inspiration struck me, and I decided to use what I had. I rummaged through boxes and cabinets at home and finally found a sky-blue tracksuit belonging to my elder brother. I was so happy I almost jumped for joy; it was truly a godsend. However, upon closer inspection, my joy quickly faded. This is because the chest of the tracksuit was printed with the words "Liu Tie" (Liuzhou Railway Bureau) and a railway emblem. If people saw it, wouldn't they say I was impersonating a railway worker? I hesitated for a moment and then asked my friend Yue, who was also undecided. In short, we were as timid as mice back then. The issues of our parents had already put us on thin ice, and if we caused any more trouble, we didn't know how it would end.

        And the most pressing issue was that we couldn't *not* get our photos taken, nor could we *not* wear the same sports uniforms. We deeply understood the beauty of harmony back then. We wanted to leave our memorable images behind before heading to the countryside, as it was a day worth commemorating. We thought hard for a long time, and finally, I came up with a plan that would satisfy both needs. Before we went to the photo studio, I could wear a smock (blue or black would do) on the outside to cover up, and then take it off at the studio. After the photos were taken, I'd immediately put the smock back on.

         So, we are finally left with this photograph.

         Looking at the photo, the friend surnamed Yue is smiling calmly because he has nothing to hide. Besides, that tracksuit belongs to him. My smile, on the other hand, is a bit forced because I feel very uneasy inside, my heart pounding like a drum. I'm so flustered, afraid of being found out. It's only in the second the photographer clicked the shutter that our feigned expressions seem to brim with confidence for the future, as if an infinitely beautiful prospect were beckoning us.

         Back then, I always urged the photographer to hurry up, but he was slow, telling us to pose like this for a moment and then like that for another, until I was trembling all over. I was also afraid he'd ask me, "Hey, are you from the railway?" Fortunately, he didn't, because he was completely focused on his lens.

         After taking the photos, I quickly put on my smock, covering up the words "Liu Tie" and its insignia. The photographer looked at me, confused, but didn't ask. I was afraid he would. Finally, I walked out of the photo studio, drenched in a cold sweat, but still very grateful to the photographer.

         He made me remember that unforgettable period of history.

 

             Home-style cured sausage    

        The preserved sausage from my hometown is truly the most delicious in the world.

         That Lunar New Year, over ten of us, young and old, drove to our ancestral home. Naturally, our relatives there were extremely hospitable, killing chickens and ducks, and bustling about. My brothers and I called out together, "No need to be so busy, just bring a plate of cured sausage, and that will be enough." Our younger generation, not knowing our ancestral home had such a delicacy, whispered to each other, "What's so good about cured sausage?" We didn't explain, only smiled at their ignorance.

        Our relatives heard what we said and no longer prepared ten or eight dishes. When it was time to eat, they brought out a steaming large washbasin and shouted, "Here it comes!"

         Instantly, the room was filled with fragrance.

         My brothers and I quickly grabbed seats, unceremoniously raised our glasses to take a sip, picked up our chopsticks, and started grabbing, chewing loudly. The younger generation was hesitant at first, seemingly uninterested in this unappetizing dish. It's true, the dish was in pieces, with black bits, and no seasonings at all, so what could possibly be good about it? Seeing us eat with great relish, they hesitantly came over, extended their chopsticks, picked up a piece to try, and at first, they were hesitant. As they tasted it, they too shouted, "Delicious! So delicious!" Then they began to eat ravenously, like bandits, gobbling it up with great gusto, as if they were eating dragon meat.

         A whole basin full of sausages was wolfed down in no time.

         Was it satisfying?

         We said, "It was awesome, but there just wasn't enough of it."

         My relative said, "Don't worry, we'll have preserved sausage at the next meal too."

         The cured sausages from my hometown are definitely not the sausages we usually talk about; those sausages have meat stuffed into them. The cured sausages from my hometown, however, are made from pig small intestines. They are simple to make and don't require stuffing meat, but they do require a great deal of patience. After washing them clean, they are hung above the stove and smoked with firewood. It's even better if pine needles are used. If they are smoked with coal, they absolutely won't have this flavor; there's a specific method to it. Smoking them until they are dry and firm is partly for storage, and partly for a chewy texture.

        It's also very easy to eat. You only need to wash it and then cut it into short sections. As for how to eat it, that's up to your preference. You can stir-fry it or steam it. My recommendation is to steam it. It doesn't look appealing – dark and skinny, like dried beanstalks, and it doesn't have much of a fragrance. But once you steam it in the pot, my goodness, gradually, the aroma will slowly fill the whole house. That aroma has the scent of meat, and also the scent of burning wood. You haven't even taken a bite yet, but your mouth will already be watering.

         When you eat it, you'll find the preserved sausage becomes soft and a little chewy, filling your mouth with fragrance as you chew. If you, like me, also drink alcohol, then you are truly in for a treat. You've encountered the most exquisite appetizer in the world. It's not greasy, hard, or oily, making it something you can eat endlessly without getting tired of it.

         Some dishes in the world are different; once you've eaten them, you won't want to eat them again. If you've eaten your fill of something once in your life and are tired of it, you'll want to eat it even less. Examples like this are everywhere around us. For instance, chicken, duck, fish, and meat, and so on. If you've eaten your fill of them once, you won't want to taste them again. My hometown's preserved sausage is different. If you eat a lot of it once, you'll want to eat it again at the next meal. There's no reason why you wouldn't want to eat it anymore.

        The preserved sausages from my hometown have a long history.

        I asked my parents if this had always been around. They said, "Of course, it has a history." I asked how long of a history, and my parents chuckled, saying, "I'm afraid it has thousands of years of history." Moreover, this kind of sausage is usually not given as a gift, because each family doesn't make much, and they feel it's not enough for themselves, so how could they give it to others? And, you can only eat this sausage during Chinese New Year, which shows how precious it is.

         Relatives from my hometown know I love preserved sausage. Whenever they have a chance, they always bring me some, which makes me ecstatic. It’s hard to eat this delicacy elsewhere, you can't even see it.

         Of course, I also have to tell you the truth: you should eat preserved sausage while it's hot, meaning you should strike while the iron is hot. When it's hot, it's soft. If it gets cold, it becomes a bit hard. This might be its only drawback. But this drawback isn't a big deal. If you eat it quickly, won't that solve the problem? When such a delicious dish is served, why be polite? Why be refined? Just gobble it down, people will understand. Besides, what's a dish with a drawback? Everyone has drawbacks, and often quite big ones, let alone preserved sausage?

        The Lunar New Year is almost here, and I can enjoy my hometown's cured sausage again.

         (Author Introduction: Jiang Yibin, contemporary writer. A native of Shaoyang, Hunan Province, he is the honorary chairman of the Hunan Writers Association. He has authored over twenty works, including the novels "Left and Right Neighbors," "Fire Carp," and "Wine Song," as well as short and medium-length story collections such as "Kiln Sacrifice" and "Lonely Light.")