Lu Xun Complete Works/en/Mingtian
Tomorrow
明天 (Lu Xun (鲁迅), translated into English)
From the collection Call to Arms (呐喊, 1922)
Tomorrow
"Not a sound — what's become of the little one?"
Red-nosed Laogong held up a bowl of yellow rice wine, jerking his chin toward the wall next door. Blue-skinned Ah Wu set down his wine bowl and slapped him on the back with all his might, mumbling:
"You … you're having those thoughts again …"
Luzhen, you see, was a quiet backwater that still preserved certain old customs: before the first watch, everyone shut their doors and went to bed. Deep in the night, only two households remained awake: one was the Xianheng Tavern, where a handful of drinking companions sat around the counter eating and drinking merrily; the other was the next-door neighbor, Fourth Sister-in-law Shan, who, since being widowed two years before, had to rely entirely on her own two hands to spin cotton yarn, supporting herself and her three-year-old son, and so she too went to bed late.
These past few days there had indeed been no sound of spinning. But since only two houses stayed awake deep into the night, if there was a sound in Fourth Sister-in-law Shan's house, naturally only the Laogongs heard it — and if there was no sound, only the Laogongs noticed that too.
Laogong took the blow as though it had done him good, took a deep draught of wine, and began humming a little tune.
At that hour, Fourth Sister-in-law Shan was holding her Bao'er in her arms, sitting on the edge of the bed. The spinning wheel stood silent on the floor. The murky lamplight fell on Bao'er's face, which showed a faintly bluish tinge beneath its flush. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan calculated in her mind: she had already drawn fortune sticks at the temple, already made vows, already tried folk remedies — if none of them worked, what then? There was nothing for it but to see Master He. Yet perhaps Bao'er's illness was only the kind that lightened by day and grew worse at night; when tomorrow came and the sun rose, the fever would break and the gasping subside — that was, after all, quite common with the sick.
Fourth Sister-in-law Shan was a simple woman who did not understand the terrible power of the word "but": many bad things were turned right thanks to a "but," yet many good things were also ruined by one. Summer nights are short; not long after the Laogongs had finished humming their song, the east was already turning pale, and before long, silver-white dawn light seeped in through the cracks in the window.
Fourth Sister-in-law Shan had been waiting for daybreak, but unlike others she did not find the waiting easy — it felt immeasurably slow, and each breath Bao'er drew seemed to last longer than a year. At last it was light; the brightness of day overwhelmed the lamplight — and she could see that Bao'er's nostrils were already flaring in and out.
Fourth Sister-in-law Shan knew this was a bad sign and silently cried "Oh no!" She calculated: what was to be done? There was only one way — to see Master He. Simple woman though she was, she had resolution in her heart. She rose, took from the wooden chest the thirteen small silver coins and one hundred and eighty copper cash she had saved up day after day, put them all in her pocket, locked the door, and with Bao'er in her arms ran straight to the He household.
It was still early, but four patients were already sitting at the He household. She fished out four silver jiao, bought a number ticket, and Bao'er was fifth in line. Master He spread two fingers to take the pulse; his fingernails were a good four inches long. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan marveled secretly and thought to herself: surely Bao'er would be saved. But she could not help feeling anxious, and unable to restrain herself, she asked falteringly:
"Doctor — what illness does my Bao'er have?"
"His middle burner is blocked."
"Is it serious? He …"
"First take two doses."
"He can't breathe, his nostrils are flaring."
"That is Fire overcoming Metal …"
Master He spoke only half the sentence, then closed his eyes. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan did not dare ask further. A man of about thirty who sat facing Master He had by this time finished writing out a prescription and pointed to a few characters in the corner of the paper, saying:
"The first ingredient, the 'Precious Infant Life-Saving Pill,' can only be found at the Jia family's old Jishi Pharmacy!"
Fourth Sister-in-law Shan took the prescription and walked on, thinking as she went. Simple woman though she was, she knew that the He house, the Jishi Pharmacy, and her own home formed a triangle; it would be most convenient to buy the medicine first and then head home. So she ran straight to the Jishi Pharmacy. The shop assistant, too, examined the prescription at leisure with his long curved fingernails and wrapped the medicine at leisure. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan waited with Bao'er in her arms; suddenly Bao'er raised his little hand and tugged hard at a loose strand of her hair — something he had never done before. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan froze with dread.
The sun had risen long since. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan carried the child in her arms and the medicine parcel at her side; the farther she walked, the heavier everything seemed. The child kept struggling, and the road felt longer and longer. She had no choice but to sit down on the doorstep of a mansion by the roadside to rest a while. Her clothes gradually grew cold against her skin, and only then did she realize she was drenched in sweat; Bao'er, however, seemed to have fallen asleep. When she got up and walked on slowly, she still could barely hold herself up, when suddenly she heard someone say:
"Fourth Sister-in-law Shan, let me carry the little one for you!" It sounded like Blue-skinned Ah Wu's voice.
She looked up — and it was indeed Blue-skinned Ah Wu, following her with bleary eyes.
At that moment, Fourth Sister-in-law Shan would have welcomed a warrior from heaven to lend her a hand, but she did not want it to be Ah Wu. Ah Wu, however, had something chivalrous about him and insisted on helping no matter what, so after a brief tug-of-war she yielded. He stretched out his arms, reaching down between Fourth Sister-in-law Shan's breast and the child, and took the baby from her. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan at once felt a trail of heat across her breast, and in an instant the heat spread to her face and the roots of her ears.
The two of them walked side by side, some two and a half feet apart. Ah Wu made conversation, but Fourth Sister-in-law Shan mostly did not reply. Before long, Ah Wu returned the child, saying the hour had come for a meal he had arranged with friends the day before; Fourth Sister-in-law Shan took the child back. Fortunately home was not far; she could already see Auntie Wang the Ninth sitting by the roadside across the way, calling out from a distance:
"Fourth Sister-in-law Shan, what's wrong with the child? — Have you seen the doctor?"
"I've been, yes. — Auntie Wang, you're getting on in years and have seen much; would you be so kind as to cast your experienced eye over him and see …"
"Mm …"
"What do you think …?"
"Mm …" Auntie Wang the Ninth studied the child for a while, nodded twice, and shook her head twice.
By the time Bao'er had taken the medicine, it was already afternoon. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan watched him closely — he seemed somewhat calmer. But in the later afternoon he suddenly opened his eyes, cried "Mama!" and closed them again, as if falling asleep. He slept a while; then beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and the tip of his nose. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan touched them gently — they stuck to her fingers like glue. She hastily reached for his chest and could no longer hold back her sobbing.
Bao'er's breathing grew steadier and steadier until it ceased altogether; Fourth Sister-in-law Shan's voice rose from sobbing to loud wailing. By now several clusters of people had gathered: inside the door were Auntie Wang the Ninth, Blue-skinned Ah Wu, and the like; outside stood the proprietor of the Xianheng Tavern, Red-nosed Laogong, and others. Auntie Wang took charge and had a string of paper money burned. Then she pawned two wooden benches and five garments to borrow two silver dollars for Fourth Sister-in-law Shan, to prepare a meal for the helpers.
The first question was the coffin. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan still had a pair of silver earrings and a gold-plated silver hairpin; she handed them all to the Xianheng proprietor and asked him to serve as guarantor, to buy a coffin half with cash and half on credit. Blue-skinned Ah Wu thrust out his hand too, eagerly volunteering; but Auntie Wang would not allow it, assigning him only the task of carrying the coffin the next day. Ah Wu cursed — "old beast" — pursed his lips, and stood there sulking. The proprietor went himself; he returned in the evening to say the coffin had to be made to order and would not be ready until the latter half of the night.
When the proprietor returned, the helpers had long since eaten; because Luzhen still preserved certain old customs, they all went home to bed before the first watch. Only Ah Wu still leaned against the Xianheng counter drinking wine, and Laogong hummed his tune.
At that hour, Fourth Sister-in-law Shan sat weeping on the edge of the bed. Bao'er lay on the bed, and the spinning wheel stood silent on the floor. A long time passed; at last her tears declared themselves spent. She opened her eyes wide, looked around at everything, and found it strange: none of this should have happened. She calculated in her mind: it was only a dream, all of it was a dream. Tomorrow she would wake up, lying peacefully in bed, Bao'er sleeping peacefully beside her. He too would wake up, call out "Mama!" and leap away to play, full of life.
Laogong's singing had long since fallen silent, and the Xianheng had put out its lights. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan stared with eyes wide open, refusing to believe any of it. — Then the rooster crowed; the east gradually grew pale, and silver-white dawn light seeped through the cracks in the window.
The silver-white dawn gradually turned rosy, and sunlight fell upon the ridge of the roof. Fourth Sister-in-law Shan stared with eyes wide open, sitting in a daze; only when she heard a knocking at the door did she start, and run out to open it. Outside stood a stranger with something on his back; behind him stood Auntie Wang.
Ah — they had brought the coffin.
It was not until the afternoon that the coffin lid was finally closed: for Fourth Sister-in-law Shan wept a round, then looked a round, and simply refused to accept having it sealed; fortunately Auntie Wang lost patience, rushed forward in exasperation, dragged her aside, and with many hands the lid was at last put on.
But Fourth Sister-in-law Shan had truly done everything in her power for her Bao'er, and nothing had been left undone. Yesterday she had burned a string of paper money; this morning she had burned forty-nine scrolls of the "Great Compassion Dharani." When laying him out, she dressed him in his very newest clothes; his favorite playthings — a clay figurine, two little wooden bowls, two glass bottles — were all placed beside his pillow. Afterward, Auntie Wang the Ninth counted on her fingers and deliberated carefully, but in the end could not think of a single thing that was lacking.
All that day Blue-skinned Ah Wu simply did not show up. The Xianheng proprietor therefore hired two porters for Fourth Sister-in-law Shan, at two hundred and ten large cash each, to carry the coffin to the paupers' cemetery. Auntie Wang helped her cook rice; everyone who had lent a hand or spoken a word ate a meal. The sun gradually took on the color of setting; those who had eaten also imperceptibly took on a mood of departure — and so in the end they all went home.
Fourth Sister-in-law Shan felt dizzy; she rested a while and actually grew somewhat calm. But then one strange feeling after another came over her: something had happened that in all her life should never have happened, something that could not have been real — and yet it had happened. The more she thought about it, the more bewildering it became, and then she noticed another strange thing — the house was suddenly much too quiet.
She stood up and lit the lamp; the house only seemed quieter still. In a daze she went and shut the door, came back and sat on the edge of the bed. The spinning wheel stood silent on the floor. She steadied herself, looked around, and felt even more unable to bear it: the house was not only too quiet, but too large, and everything in it too empty. The house, too large, enclosed her on all sides; the things, too empty, pressed upon her from all sides, until she could hardly breathe.
Now she knew that her Bao'er was truly dead. She did not want to see this house; she blew out the lamp and lay down. Weeping, she remembered: how she used to sit spinning cotton while Bao'er sat beside her eating fennel beans; how he would gaze with his little black eyes, think for a moment, and say, "Mama! Papa sold wontons — when I grow up I'll sell wontons too, lots and lots of money — I'll give it all to you." In those days, even the cotton yarn she spun seemed, inch by inch, to have meaning, inch by inch to be alive. But now? What was to come now — Fourth Sister-in-law Shan truly had no idea. I said it before: she was a simple woman. What could she possibly think of? She felt only that the house was too quiet, too large, too empty.
Yet simple though Fourth Sister-in-law Shan was, she knew that the dead do not return, and that she truly could never see her Bao'er again. She sighed and murmured to herself, "Bao'er, you should still be here; come see me at least in a dream." Then she closed her eyes, wanting to fall asleep quickly, to meet her Bao'er; her labored breathing passed through the silence and the vastness and the emptiness, and she heard it all too clearly.
At last Fourth Sister-in-law Shan drifted hazily into sleep, and the whole house was very quiet. By now Red-nosed Laogong had long since finished his little song; he staggered out of the Xianheng, then raised his voice in a shrill song:
"Oh my darling! — Poor thing — so lonely and alone …"
Blue-skinned Ah Wu reached out and seized Laogong by the shoulder, and the two of them lurched away laughing, leaning against each other.
Fourth Sister-in-law Shan was long since asleep; the Laogongs had gone; the Xianheng had closed its doors. Luzhen now lay entirely in silence. Only the dark night, striving to become tomorrow, still hurried on through the silence; and a few dogs, hidden in the darkness, whimpered softly.