Xiao Xiao by Shen CongWen
Original Work (原作) available here
The sound of the ringing Souna 1 bleated through the countryside to announce the Festival of the Brides. This is the sound that accompanies each winter solstice.
In front of the Souna players four men marched with the sedan chair. 2) A young girl sat locked in the seat. And although she wore the brilliant green and red robes required of the occasion, her elegance was undermined but her desperate sobbing. Her tears expressed her heart more than any robe. Today was only the beginning. She was to become a bride, to leave her parents, to start preparing to be a mother herself. It felt like a dream. Tonight she was to fulfill her filial duty by sleeping next to a strange man. When you put it like this, of course she was scared and of course tears followed.
There were other brides in other sedan chairs who did not cry. Xiao Xiao did not cry. She did not have a mother. She was a pure product of a farming village–had worked on the farm since she was little. Just like planting seeds one day leads to the harvest, she knew that leaving one’s family was the only way to create her own. So she did not cry. She smiled. She was not nervous and she was not scared. She did not expect anything except that she was to start a family.
Xiao Xiao was twelve and was given a husband who had not yet turned three. Her husband was nine years her junior and had only just stopped breastfeeding. According to custom, she was to refer to him as “Brother”. Every day Xiao Xiao took him to the grove or down to the river to play. If he was hungry, she fed him. If he cried, she would comfort him. If, in a fit of naughtiness, he plucked a ripening gourd that did not belong to them or grabbed at foxtails, she would say, “Brother, come with me instead.”
And the sound of her voice would put a little smile on his dirty face.
The little boy was a joyful energy. His movements were crass and careless. And sometimes he would reach his tiny hands up to grab a handful of Xiao Xiao’s hair, though always unable to untangle her unkempt natural hair. Oftentimes, after a nap, his braid, after being trapped under his squirming, slumbering body, would be pulled too tight, and Xiao Xiao would take a red strip of ribbon to fix it. One time she was so angry she allowed herself to whip him, which of course made him cry. Xiao Xiao, holding back tears herself, wiped his face and said, “Please be reasonable.”
On rainy days Xiao Xiao took her husband out to splash around. He never left her side. And Xiao Xiao was no slouch when it came to chores around the house. She lent a hand whenever she could. She often washed clothes in the river. Kneeling down, she wrung out diapers and kept a look out for river snails to hand to her husband, who would be playing on the riverbank. When she drifted to sleep, she had the dreams that all the other girls her age dreamed: finding some hidden treasure, eating sweet candies, climbing trees, or transforming into a fish that swam with its wings. Her favorite dreams of all were the ones where she became weightless, and floating up to the sky left whatever made her human. She would become a sheet of white light, and radiate brilliantly
And she would wake up in a sweat, her heart pounding. Her husband’s cousins were fighting next door, “You’re crazy! All day you play around, and at night you dream these ridiculous dreams!”
Xiao Xiao breathlessly listened. It seemed that whenever she woke up from being bodiless, her husband was soon to wake up with a cry. Usually, her husband slept next to his mom. But if his stomach was upset or some he had eaten too much, he would be up half the night crying. Often diarrhea was involved. His cries always failed to rouse his mother, so it was Xiao Xiao’s job to tiptoe into the room, and holding him close to her chest let him look up at the moon and the stars. She would rock him until his cries turned into soft, purr-like whispers. As his breathing steadied himself towards sleep, he would smile, and they would both close their eyes. When people sleep with their bodies touching, waking only when the rooster crows, then they know comfort. And the first rays of daybreak, while unfeeling and lacking the capacity to dream, pushes eyes open with the yellow rays of a million sunflowers. And that is pleasure.
Her life as a young bride to an even younger husband was easier than whatever her old life had been. In the months since she walked over the house’s threshold on her own two feet, her body had matured quite a bit. The days passed like rain drops in the wind and she grew tall just like a castor oil tree tucked away in some part of a garden—neglected but with a strong trunk and thriving leaves. It seemed like she grew every day, growing into beauty that was incomprehensible to her husband.
The fading light of summertime evenings felt like a dream painted with globby strokes. After everyone finished eating dinner, they would sit in the courtyard and enjoy the coolness accompanied with the setting sun, fanning themselves. They watched the waking stars. The sounds of threshing vines from the fields let out a pitter patter, not unlike rain. The gentle wind invited smiles onto everyone’s faces.
Xiao Xiao was tall now, and able to push through the riverbanks’ sturdy reeds while carrying her sleeping husband. She did this effortlessly, while singing half remembered folk songs that she sprinkled with her own made up verses. One particular night, she had nearly lulled herself to sleep as she stepped into the courtyard.
Her husband’s parents and grandparents, along with a few of their servants, spread out through the courtyard shooting the breeze. Someone was plucking at a guitar. It was easy to spend half the night this way.
Grandfather had a tobacco pouch that glistened when it caught the light. It was made by a high mountain dweller. It stuck to him like mosquitos on the ankles of a man in exile or a stick caught in the underwater of a bird’s plume. He pulled out a wad of tobacco.
“San Chin told me those school girls passed by yesterday.”
Everyone howled with laughter. Why? Because everyone knew these girls did not wear traditional braids, but kept them poking out like quail or wore hoods like nuns. Their clothes were western but their bodies were not. They ate western food…used western… everything about them was different. It was hard not to laugh just thinking about them.
Xiao Xiao did not quite understand so she did not laugh. Seeing her, Grandfather said, “Xiao Xiao, you’re old enough to go study with them.”
And everyone burst out laughing.
Xiao Xiao was not an idiot and did not like to be played for one, so she responded, “Grandfather, I don’t want to study with those girls.”
“But you resemble one so well, it would be unwise not to.”
“I don’t want to.”
Everyone else laughed again, and in virtual unison said, “You really should listen to Grandfather. It would be best for you to study with them.”
“Fine. I’ll do whatever. I’m not scared.”
But really, Xiao Xiao did not even know enough about these girls to know what she could be scared of.
Anything concerning those female students amounted to a fairytale for the villagers. Every June, during the “Water Festival”, a large group of female students would pass through the village, looking for some hidden watering hole, asking the locals for directions. They were aliens from some other planet in the villagers’ eyes. They were completely bizarre and behaved in quite baffling ways. When they passed through in this way, the villagers spent the rest of the day laughing.
Grandfather was a local too, and these infrequent encounters allowed him to imagine what life was like for the girls when they returned to the city, which in turn made him joke about Xiao Xiao joining their ranks. When she heard this proposition, Xiao Xiao saw the humor, but she mostly felt scared, like perhaps this joke was not without some underlying meaning.
Grandfather shared what he knew about the female students: they wore the same clothes regardless of the weather; they ate even if they were not hungry; they slept when their headmaster told them to; they did not work during the day, instead they sang songs and played games or read western books. They were all adept at spending money. A year’s tuition could buy sixteen water buffalo. If they wanted to go to another part of the province, they just had to sit in their sedan chairs and they would be whisked away. While at school, boys and girls studied together, and once they were sufficiently acquainted, they would sleep with the boys. There was no need for matchmakers or courtships. This they called “freedom”. After graduating, these girls could become country magistrates and fill all the other roles with their family members. Everyone had to refer to them as “master”.
They did not know how to raise cattle but they drank plenty of milk. They drank like lambs from aluminum bowls. Whenever they wanted to see a play, they would go to the theater, but the way they acted one would think they were going to a temple. They would first prepare by going to a shop and pulling out a currency from some western country (one bill was enough to buy five hens) and use it to buy a single piece of paper. Then they entered the theater where they would take note of everything that happened on stage. They did not curse. They did not cry. Even when they reached twenty-four years old, they would still be single. Marriage and children were not even a thought until they reached their thirties or forties. They did not fear men. Men could not make them feel powerless. They were unafraid to go to the courts and demand restitution. Sometimes they would even lend the men the money themselves, since they had it after all. They did not wash clothes. They did not cook, nor raise pigs, nor feed the chickens. When they had kids, they paid others to take care of them. They spent their days going to the theater or playing mahjong or reading western books with no practical uses. That is how life passed for these strange, unknowable creatures.
Listening to Grandfather explain all these unknowable things, Xiao Xiao felt very befuddled. If she were allowed to study with these girls, would she do the same things? She knew one thing for certain: if anyone from the village were to study with those girls, they could not fear anything.
And it was only after hearing Grandfather explain all the particularities of the girls, did Xiao Xiao allow herself to laugh with the others. She laughed a long time then said, “Grandfather, next time the girls pass by, please let me know and I’ll come and watch them.”
“If they see you, they might pluck you away and take you as their servant girl.”
“I’m not scared of them.”
“They read western books and think western thoughts. You’re really not scared?”
“Mother goddess protects me from calamity, and Sun WuKong’s headband guides me. I am not scared of them.” 3
“These girls are cannibals, they love to eat villagers like us. When they spit, it’s yellowed with the flesh of human bones. You’re really not scared?”
Resolutely, Xiao Xiao said, “I am not scared.”
But while she stood firmly, her husband began to cry in her arms. Still asleep, he writhed and screamed.
“Brother, brother,” Xiao Xiao cooed, “Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You must be quiet, the cannibals aren’t far away.”
But her husband kept crying, so she headed back into the house, bidding good night to Grandfather, who responded with some blessing from the old times.
That night, the female students had wormed their way into Xiao Xiao’s heart. She often dreamt of them, sometimes even dreaming herself a part of their ranks. She found herself in her own sedan chair. But she was firmly aware that hers was the slowest. Slower than if she were just walking on her own feet. The inside was crumpled with a small, red-eyed rat also as a passenger, scampering around, sometimes letting its small, tentacle-like tail hang out the carriage.
After that night in the courtyard, Grandfather stopped referring to her as “little one”. He even stopped calling her Xiao Xiao. He only referred to her as “student”.
Every day in the village passes just like in the rest of the world, but there are some differences. If you live on the outside, then you are likely to waste a day here or there, but families like Xiao Xiao’s value each second with miserly care. So many city dwellers spend their summers shrinking away into their silk pajamas— eating and drinking whatever brings pleasure to them. Xiao Xiao’s family did not indulge during the summer. A summer day meant hard work. It meant at least ten pounds of plucked vines. It meant harvest.
During one of those summer days, twelve-year-old Xiao Xiao was looking after her husband and was about four pounds into her vine quota. August was, too, spent in this manner. But afterwards—when the sky dimmed but not darkened, offering reprieve from the heat—the workers would all play in the fields, using overripe gourds as playthings. It really was fun. And then autumn came. It announced itself with glorious yellow and red leaves dripping over the courtyard. Xiao Xiao stood at the edge of the courtyard, leaning against a tree, making a hat for her husband out of dried vines.
Among the workers was a twenty-three-year-old named Hua Kou. 4 He jogged over to the tree where Xiao Xiao played with her husband and gave it a shake. Down rained juju berries.
“Da Kou! 5 You shook it too hard! How can we eat all of these?”
Even though he definitely heard her, Hua Kou did not stop shaking the tree, as he watched Xiao Xiao’s husband scurry to eat the dropping berries.
“Brother! Stop that! If you eat unripe berries, your stomach will hurt.”
Her husband obeyed, but offered the juju berry in his hand to his wife.
“Sister, eat this one. It’s big enough!”
“I don’t want it.”
“C’mon, one bite!”
With what hand was she supposed to take the berry from him? In one hand she held his hat, in the other, his squirming body.
“Okay brother. I’ll eat one. Pop it into my mouth.”
Her obedient husband did as she said, giggling as he fed his wife. She chewed on the berry as she wrapped another vine for his hat.
His was the type of obedience that always teetered on naughtiness. He opened his mouth and started to sing something that was less a song and more of an intentionally annoying melody.
“Brother, what in the world are you singing?”
“Da Kou taught me this song. He said only the mountain people know it.”
“Sing it right and let me listen.”
Her husband started to sing all that he could remember:
Clouds in the sky like flowers,
Valleys full of beans and lovers,
The beanstalks hug the tree trunk
And sister June’s pregnant again.
The sky is filled with clouds again
Holes are dug for the next crop again
Sister Junes washing dishes again
Then she’ll go to bed with a stranger again.
Now obviously Xiao Xiao’s husband didn’t understand this song and just looked up at her waiting for praise. Xiao Xiao told him his voice was lovely and asked who taught it to him. She knew he said it was Hua Kou, but wanted to see if he was going to keep his story straight.
“Hua Kou taught me! He said it’s a really good song and when I’m older I can learn even more good songs!”
Xiao Xiao had heard that Hua Kou had a good voice and she called for him.
“Da Kou! Da Kou! Come over here and sing for us a bit.”
Now, Hua Kou was not exactly what one would call an upstanding young man. As soon as Xiao Xiao called for him to sing, he knew exactly what tune he would pull out. He went with “The 10 Year Old’s 1 Year Old Husband”. This is not exactly a song known by many people, but it tells the story of a much older wife doing some unkempt things unbeknownst to her husband, who only cares about drinking milk—which she allows whenever he wants. Much like the other song, Xiao Xiao’s husband did not understand the meaning of this song. But Xiao Xiao did. And when he finished singing, she put on an angry face and said, “Da Kou! This is quite a naughty song.”
Hua Kou calmly retorted, “There’s nothing naughty about it at all.”
“It is. It’s really terrible!”
Hua Kou did not say anything else. He was not really one of the more verbose people in the village, and was prone to quiet spells. He saw that Xiao Xiao understood the song and was worried she would go and tell Grandfather. Then he would get scolded by Grandfather. And Grandfather was one of the more verbose people in the village. Hua Kou decided to get her thinking about the female students instead. Hua Kou asked Xiao Xiao if she had ever seen the girls doing their western gymnastics exercise.
Just as he anticipated, it was as if the song had never been sung. She had not seen the gymnastics but asked him to tell her next time they came by—she wanted to see them.
Hua Kou plucked a gourd from the ground and stuck it in the crevice of his elbow and told Xiao Xiao he had never seen the girls, and everything he knew about them was from stories Grandfather told him. He leaned closer and said that when the girls walked, they marched like soldiers. They chanted like soldiers. They held small flags, just like soldiers. Hua Kou leaned even closer and told her that he was lying, had made the whole thing up. Xiao Xiao did not care. She was enraptured. This story…this was what freedom looked like.
Hua Kou laughed, and his eyes and his throat convulsed like a great bird taking flight.
With a hint of pleasure, Xiao Xiao said, “Da Kou! Your neck is so large!”
“My neck isn’t the only thing that’s large.”
“Well your frame is pretty large.”
“Everything about me is large.”
With nothing to say back, Xiao Xiao just stood politely holding her husband. Another field worker who was Hua Kou’s bunkmate came over to them. Everyone called him Ya Pa because this guy was known for never piping up except to say the worst possible thing. 6
“Hua Kou! I know you’re no slouch. This child bride…she’s thirteen and will be waiting at least years just to consummate it. I bet she’ll be lonely!”
Hua Kou did not say a word, he just calmly stepped over, slapped this guy in the face, then returned to the juju berry tree and gave it another shake.
And the rest of the autumn was spent plucking gourds until the autumn was plucked away too and Xiao Xiao realized she had been with this new family for a year now.
The rain came, and then the snow. Everyone said Xiao Xiao was so mature. She said her prayers, sipped on cool water, and ate stone ground rice. Each season passed without illness, and Xiao Xiao grew taller and stronger. Her mother-in-law seemed to have it out for her, often trying to cut her down. But nothing can stop time. And not even her best attempts could stop the village from celebrating Xiao Xiao’s fifteenth birthday, welcoming her into adulthood. None of them noticed this newfound adult was feeling muddled and lost.
As people grow in years, they also accumulate responsibilities. Her days were filled with weaving, washing clothes, caring for her husband, feeding the pigs. In the village, any time that is left over after working is spent enjoying each other’s company at home. Two or three years passed in this manner. The dried vines underneath the looms counted time.
Xiao Xiao’s husband stopped breastfeeding and his mother had a new baby. He felt abandoned by his mother, which drew him closer to Xiao Xiao. Wherever she went he was sure to follow.
She was now both his wife and his mother. And he was scared of her. Because one should be scared of their mother.
As time went on, Grandfather still joked occasionally that Xiao Xiao should cut off her braid and go find freedom with the students. Now that she had seen the students for herself, when she laughed at Grandfather’s jokes, it was not genuine. Instead, it made her want to go on the river banks, and—staring at her reflection in the water—use a reed to twist her braid so tight that it disappeared behind her head and she could imagine what her life might be like elsewhere.
When she collected feed for the pigs, she brought her husband along. He kept his eye out for snails to play with and they both sang the songs that they had been taught.
Sometimes, unbeknownst to them, their singing would catch Hua Kou’s attention, and he would come join them.
Hua Kou sparked a feeling that Xiao Xiao had only a limited understanding of. It was similar to terror. But after all, he was a man. And he had all the trappings of a man: a strong body, quick feet, and joked easily. So of course Xiao Xiao’s husband loved when the three of them played together, but it also gave Hua Kou opportunities to brush against—and sometimes wrap around—Xiao Xiao’s body. Which induced that novel feeling for Xiao Xiao.
People easily disappear into the vastness of the mountains. Whenever Hua Kou wanted to find Xiao Xiao, he would simply climb to a lookout point and start singing. He knew that her little husband could not resist joining in the song, and Hua Kou would scamper down to where they were.
The naive husband was always excited to see Hua Kou, who was eager to make Xiao Xiao’s husband gifts from what the mountains had to offer: a bamboo flute, a snailshell plaything. And Hua Kou would want to send his playmate off to find the materials he needed, and then sit next to his wife and sing her songs that made her blush. This often scared her, so she would not let her husband go off. And whenever Hua Kou sat next to her, she made sure her husband was pressed close to her body so that Hua Kou was well aware she was a proud married woman.
During one of these episodes, her husband had managed to get away to collect some straws, and Hua Kou started his usual signing, but then, turning to Xiao Xiao he sang:
The ditch near your family’s house,
Do others even walk through it?
These once ironclad sandals are torn to shreds.
We can undress there and do as we see fit.
Then, not in a singsong cadence: “I stay up all night thinking of you.”
He made her promise not to tell anyone what he had just said. Xiao Xiao sat in disbelief, and her eyes searched for answers in his thick shoulders. He can’t sleep because of me?
And Hua Kou started singing again. And her heart flipped in her chest. She would keep her promise, she would protect him from his own words. Suddenly, her husband returned. His hand was bleeding and swollen from a bite from a caterpillar. She took him in her arms and breathed softly onto him, blowing out the muddledness in her heart. Feeling glad to comfort her husband.
Sometime around barley season, Hua Kou enticed Xiao Xiao to do what he wanted. This lasted until plum season. She loved eating plum seeds. Her body started to feel weird, and she decided to tell Hua Kou the next time she saw him.
When she did, he immediately lost interest in her. It was like she had said some goodbye to her. And she felt so alone. And something was very wrong. One day, Xiao Xiao did her hair up like the female students and she went looking for Hua Kou.
“Da Kou. I’m going to the city. I’m going to be free.”
“Go to the city? What for? What’s wrong?”
“My stomach is big.”
“Ok. I’ll go get us some medicine. There’s a pharmacist in town. I’ll get it.”
“You better hurry up, I think…”
“You want to go to the city? You want freedom? You’re not built for that life. You’ll end up a beggar. You can’t just run from this.”
“You did this to me, you pig! You did this. I wish I were dead!”
“You’re to blame as well.”
“Blame? You want to blame me? Fine! I don’t care. You’re the one who stuffed this hunk of meat into my belly. I am so scared.”
Hua Kou did not utter another word. He just walked away, turning down the path. After a bit, Xiao Xiao’s husband came bounding back, and was shocked to see her red eyed and puffy faced leaning against a tree.
“Sister, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just have something in my eye. It hurts.”
“I’ll blow it away.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Look at me, right here I’ll blow it out.”
He picked up a little stone that he had found and proudly presented it into her hand. Her face was flooded with tears. Sobbing, she sternly told him, “Don’t tell anyone that I’m crying. It’ll just make everything worse.” He listened to her. And they were the only ones who knew she had shed tears.
A few weeks later, Hua Kou left without saying a word. He just packed up all of his clothes and left. Grandfather asked his bunkmate Yaba if he knew where Hua Kou had gone. Ya Pa dumbly shook his head. All he knew was Hua Kou owed him two hundred dollars. Ya Pa did not share the real reason Hua Go left, and said that maybe he had stolen from others before he left. Everyone waited for him to return and searched their own belongings to see what else he might have nabbed. But everything was accounted for, and they were best to forget about him.
Xiao Xiao was still Xiao Xiao, and she could push Hua Kou out of her mind. But her stomach was still changing. Something was moving around. She often thought, I should die right now. But what good would that be? She was happy to keep on living. She wanted to keep on living.
Her oblivious family talked about her growing husband. They told stories about Hua Kou. They asked when she was going to have a kid of her own. Each word they uttered was like a punch in her chest.
By August, she was afraid that everyone was aware of her secret. She took her husband to the temple to play. When they got there, she prayed and prayed. Then she ate a handful of ash from the offerings. Her husband asked why she would do something like that, and she told him you can eat this when your stomach hurts. And her stomach hurt. But even though she prayed, the Buddha did not respond, and the hunk of meat inside of her continued to slowly grow.
She often drank the cold water from the river. Her husband would ask why she was doing this, and she would respond that she was thirsty.
She tried everything to force this unwanted thing out of her, but nothing worked. Only her husband knew how big her belly had gotten and he would never dare to tell his mother, and even more, he felt a stronger duty to his wife than his parents.
She remembered the curses Hua Kou had thrown at her that day, and she held them in her heart with the rest of her memories. In autumn, the ground is littered with the cocoons of caterpillars that did not survive and the sky is full of those who did. Unaware of the torment it caused her, her husband would bring up the time one had bit him. She grew to hate caterpillars, and would step on one upon seeing it.
One day, hearing the female students had once again passed by she went out to gaze at them. She spent the rest of the day in a stupor.
The next morning she went behind Hua Kou’s house. She started packing some things that she would take with her when the female students once again passed by. What would she need for her life in the city?
But when they passed by, Xiao Xiao stood frozen. Her family found her on the side of the road, things in her hand, stomach big.
The family quickly found out why she had plotted to leave. This girl, once betrothed to their son, was big with the child of another man. This was the type of thing to uproot a family. There was anger. The tears came. The threats were uttered. Every indignant family member played their part. Death by hanging or drowning, or having her eat enough poison to kill a horse. All these options were mulled over at some point. Finally Grandfather stepped forward, and for the first time in the discussions spoke some sense into the room. He sent Xiao Xiao into the kitchen and had someone watch over her. Then he asked the rest of the family—because he really could not remember—accroding to Xiao Xiao’s people’s customs, did her crimes call for her to be drowned or sold off into slavery? The family discussed, and in order to save face it would be better to drown her. To start the proceedings, they called the only living family member Xiao Xiao had—an uncle from the farming village nearby. When he arrived, he thought the family just wanted to get to know him better, but then they informed him of their decision and his task.
Looking at Xiao Xiao’s belly, he had no words. But he could not bear to drown her. Why couldn’t everyone just cut their losses and let Xiao Xiao go find a new husband?
This course of action would not be unnatural. Xiao Xiao should pay her wronged husband a small sum and leave. Xiao Xiao’s uncle was contacted and brought to the village. He was informed of the plan, and informed her he had no money to lend her. She cried and grasped at his clothes but he did not say anything. He turned. He walked away.
No one else came looking for Xiao Xiao. She was still living in her husband’s home. Her husband had been told what Xiao Xiao had done. He did not want her to leave. Xiao Xiao did not want to leave either.
In October, Xiao Xiao gave birth to her son. He had a lumpy head and his cries flooded the whole village.They were the perfect image of mother and child. The villagers all gathered to celebrate. They drank wine and got drunk and ate pheasant. They prayed to the gods and offered sacrifices of gratitude. Everyone loved this little boy.
Xiao Xiao decided to stay put with him.
One day at the temple, she sat with her husband and her son (who was already ten years old). He was strong and he was already providing for the family by working in the fields. That day was the first time he called Xiao Xiao’s husband “uncle” and no one objected.
She had named this boy Niu Er. When he turned twelve, he was given a wife of six years old. Once she grew up, she started to help with the housework. The blowing of Suona announced a new round of crying brides every year.
One day, Xiao Xiao held her second son, Yüeh Mao Mao, under the shade of the elm tree. The same tree under which she had held her husband ten years ago. 7)
- A reeded instrument similar to an oboe used in processions https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suona[↩]
- A little thing that old-fashioned people would carry their wealthy members on, or (like in this instances) those who are being paraded through town https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Litter_(vehicle[↩]
- “Mother goddess” here refers to Avalokiteśvara, one who in Buddhist teaching has ascended and looks upon humans with compassion, the headband belongs to a main character of Journey to the West, a classic Chinese travelogue, both would be familiar to Chinese language readers, and both represent traditional beliefs that would be held by the townspeople https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avalokite%C5%9Bvara[↩]
- Pronounced Hwah Go[↩]
- I know I just said his name is Hua Kou, but Xiao Xiao calls him Da to mean “big brother”. It’s a term of endearment you can use for any man who is older than you, but not like super old (then he becomes uncle).[↩]
- Ya pa (啞巴) literally means “mute”[↩]
- I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she names this child 月毛毛 (Yueh Mao Mao)，which uses the same character as the word for caterpillar 毛毛蟲, (Mao Mao Chong), the creature that reminds Xiao Xiao of her episode with Hua Kou (and her husband’s pain[↩]