Lotus by Lijia Zhang

Author:Lijia Zhang
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.

CHAPTER 16

天高皇帝远

Heaven Is High and the Emperor Is Far Away

In Mulberry Gully, Bing felt at home. The landscape was beautiful, with pristine mountains, limpid waters, and an azure sky he had never photographed before. No city noise, no pollution, no plastic bags flapping on trees. Life in the city had taken him away from nature. Now he was part of it once again. Many rustic objects—wooden ladles, gourd buckets, and twig baskets—all inspired his creative impulses.

The quality and quantity of his host’s food had declined. But Bing didn’t mind as long as he could devour the crust of rice cooked in the bottom of the Luos’ great iron wok. Modern rice cookers never produced the same crispy effect. In that crust, he tasted his own childhood.

From time to time, Little Red’s mother would bring in a red-cooked fish or date paste buns. Auntie was a tall, big-boned woman, yet she was soft-spoken. Before entering the house, she would call out in her melodious voice. “Chouchou, Chouchou, are you at home?”

Lotus would always scold her for bringing food. “Auntie, how much did this cost you? You must stop.”

A few days after her visit to the tomb, Lotus sat Nai on a stool in the middle of the yard and started to wash her grandma’s hair. When Lotus applied shampoo, Nai touched the lather with her fingers. “What is this, Chouchou?” she asked. “Will it turn my hair totally white?”

Lotus giggled. “It’s shampoo. I brought it with me to wash my hair. It’s much better than soap.”

Bing was sitting nearby, and he chuckled at the scene. Lotus flashed a bright smile at him. It sparked a rush of happiness in him. Ever since the tomb visit, he felt that they had been seeking each other’s eyes whenever possible, trying to read the meaning in them and delighting in the signals they sent out.

Nai nodded and closed her eyes. As Lotus’s fingers worked into her grandma’s thinning roots, the old woman groaned with pleasure. “Scratch harder, my girl,” she demanded. “So itchy! I haven’t washed my hair for a month.”

“Yaodei!”

The afternoon sun warmed the old woman’s face, which was carved with deep lines from old age. Her expression was a picture of divine contentment, her head tilting back.

Bing picked up his camera. He remembered how his sister Sufang used to wash their mother’s hair, a ritual enjoyed by both women. Bing was sure that Lotus and Nai were enjoying this special bonding just as much.

“Is Hu Laoshi in?” a voice called, interrupting Bing’s thoughts. There were visitors at the house.

Old Luo accompanied half a dozen men who filed into the yard. They nodded to Lotus but went directly to Bing. “We heard you are a journalist. Hu Laoshi, is that so?” inquired a man in his thirties, who wore an army uniform without any badges. His skin was as dark and coarse as the bottom of a well-used wok.

Bing waved his hands. “No, not exactly. But let’s talk. Have a cigarette.” He handed his pack around.

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