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you?” he asked snidely.
    “She’s the woman I’m going to marry,” Gao Ma said after hesitating for a moment.
    “As I hear it, she’s the woman Liu Shengli is going to marry.”
    “Against her will.”
    “That’s none of your business. I’ll look into the matter when
she
comes to see me, but not before.”
    “Her father won’t let her out of the house.”
    “Out, out, out!” The deputy waved him off as if shooing away a housefly “I’ve got better things to do than argue with you.”
    Before Gao Ma could protest, a hunched-over, middle-aged man walked into the room. His wan complexion contrasted sharply with his purple lips; he looked like a man at death’s door. Gao Ma stepped aside and watched him take a bottle of liquor and some canned fish out of a black imitation-leather bag and set them on the table. “Eighth Uncle,” he said, “what’s this I hear about an incident involving the Fang family?”
    Not deigning to respond to his nephew’s comment, the deputy got off his sofa and touched Gao Ma’s head. “What happened here?” he asked playfully.
    The skin around the wound grew taut, and shooting pains nearly made Gao Ma cry out. There was a ringing in his ears. In a shrill, tinny voice, he said, “I fell … banged my head.”
    “Because somebody hit you?” the deputy asked with a knowing smile.
    “No.”
    ‘ “The Fang boys are a couple of useless turds,” the deputy continued, no longer smiling. “If it had been me,” he said spitefully, “I’d have broken your damned legs and let you crawl home!”
    The deputy sprayed Gao Ma with spittle, which he wiped off with his sleeve as the man shoved him out the door and slammed it shut after him. Gao Ma hopped awkwardly on the cement steps, trying to keep his balance, so lightheaded he had to lean against the wall to keep the world from spinning. When the faintness finally eased up a bit, he gazed at the green gate; like the opening of a crack in a paste head, his consciousness returned slowly. Something warm and wet slithered into his nasal cavities, then continued down his face. He tried but couldn’t hold it back; whatever it was spurted out of his nostrils and entered his mouth. It had a salty, rank taste; and when he lowered his head, he watched the bright red liquid drip onto the pale cement steps.

4.
     
    Gao Ma lay dazed on his kang, with no idea how long he had been there or how he had gotten home from the township compound; in fact, all he could recall was fresh blood dripping silently from his nose onto the steps.
    Little red pearl drops splashing like fragile cherries—shattering, splashing … The sight of those fracturing red pearls comforted Gao Ma. They linked into a string; all the heat in his body was concentrated in one spot, gushing out through his nostrils until a pool of blood formed on the steps. The tip of his tongue, already familiar with the cloying taste, touched his chilled lips, and another crack opened up in his brain; the chestnut colt stood in the township compound before the green gate, where yellow hollyhocks bloomed in lush abundance; it observed him with its moist, crystalline eyes. Gao Ma stumbled toward it and reached out to grab a branch covered with spiny hollyhocks. The suns rays blazed down, and he felt the heavy flowers dance on top of his head; he tried to look up, but the sunlight stung his eyes. He ripped a hollyhock leaf in half and wadded it into balls, which he stuffed up his nostrils. But the buildup of hot blood swelled his head, and as the salty taste spread through his mouth, he knew the blood was flowing down his throat. All human orifices are connected.
    Gao Ma wanted to smash the compound’s green gate but didn’t have the strength. He assumed that everyone in the township offices— officials, handymen, plumbers, people in charge of women’s affairs, family planners, tax collectors, news dispatchers, boozers, meat eaters, tea drinkers, smokers—more than fifty in all, had seen