Whether in terror or delight, she made an extraordinary number of exclamations. Even if she was only expressing surprise at a caterpillar, the dulcet tones of her "aiyas" led men to suspect there had to be another context or background to them, to daydream about her pose in that context or background-and all sorts of other things besides. She wasn't responsible for these fantasies, of course, she was responsible only for the caterpillar. But that caterpillar of hers could triumph over the other women's ginger-salted-bean pounded tea and all their other distractions, could wrest men away, have them trot over obediently to shower her with attention, to perform any physical task she demanded of them. Every time this happened, shoulders back and head held high, she'd walk beneath the gaze of other Maqiao women, glowing with the undisguisable joy of victory.

I later heard Maqiao people whisper among themselves that this woman's dizzying, bewitching cries were really rude and got the better of at least three men.

First of all was a director from the County Cultural Institute, who came once to check on cultural work in the village and who stayed in her house; a secretary he brought with him was palmed off on Fucha. From that time on, the Cultural Institute director took a particular interest in Maqiao, and his fleshy face, grinning from ear to ear, would often pop up-here and there, in her kitchen, as if it had set down roots and started to grow. People said he'd give out free agriculture manuals, as well as free fertilizer quotas and disaster relief funds; whatever Tiexiang wanted she got. Getting the institute director to do things was even easier than ordering a child around-the director (a commissioned official) even helped her haul the toilet bucket, lurching over to the vegetable garden to empty it onto the manure heap.

Later on there was a handsome young lad, Tiexiang's nephew (allegedly) who worked in the photography institute in Pingjiang's county seat and who'd come down to the countryside to serve poor and lower-middle peasants. Tiexiang took him on a tour around nearby villages, explaining how good his photography was, getting people interested and fighting to have a look at the photographs the young lad was already clutching, which were, of course, a dozen or so photographs of Tiexiang in all kinds of different poses. This was the first time Maqiao people had seen a camera, so naturally they were curious. Something else they were curious about was an old watch belonging to the young lad, which for some months was fastened round Tiexiang's wrist. Some said that people cutting firewood on the mountain had spotted the two of them walking together hand-in-hand along the mountain road. Was this the sort of thing an aunt and a nephew did? What was going on between them?

Finally, people even said that Tiexiang had seduced Precious Huang, that Precious Huang had lugged to her house a made-to-order stone feeding-trough and drunk five whole cups of cold water without stopping, knots of flesh all over his body rising and rolling. This had sent Tiexiang into raptures of lust and she'd insisted that Precious Huang help her cut her fingernails-it was really hard to cut her right hand, she said. Afterwards, she secretly made a pair of shoes and delivered them over to Precious Huang's. Unfortunately, Precious Huang was too precious to understand her feminine wiles: he returned the shoes to Benyi saying they were a little bit small, they pinched his feet; he reckoned they'd fit Benyi better. Benyi fell silent, his face darkening immediately, his neck twisting to one side.

Not a shadow of Tiexiang was seen over the following few days. When she reappeared in public, she had a cut on her neck. When people asked about it, she said she'd been scratched by a cat.

That wasn't the truth-her old man had beaten her.

The Tiexiang with a cut at the base of her neck stopped horsing around with the men and quieted down. But then she suddenly got friendly with Three Ears.

It would've been stretching a point to call Three Ears a man-in most women's eyes he had no significance as a man-so of course there was no harm in him and Tiexiang getting friendly. Three Ears was Zhaoqing's second child, but he'd run wild as a boy and had turned out so disobedient and unfilial that Zhaoqing chased him out of the house with a hoe; he then joined up with Ma Ming, Master Yin, and Hu Erce from the House of Immortals and became one of Maqiao's Four Daoist Immortals. The nickname "Three Ears" came from an extra piece of flesh shaped like an ear that had come up in his left armpit. People said he'd been too stubborn in his previous life and the King of the Underworld had given him an extra ear this time around to make him listen harder to what his elders and the government said. He kept this under wraps like some kind of treasure-he wouldn't exhibit his precious third ear to just anyone. Whoever wanted to have a look had to hand over a cigarette first. If you wanted to have a feel, then the price doubled. He could also turn his right hand over, bring it around past his backbone, and grab hold of his right ear; anyone wanting to see this miracle had at the very least to buy him a bowl of wine in the supply and marketing cooperative.

He showed Tiexiang his third ear for free: seeing Tiexiang happy made him especially happy. He was very proud of his superfluous ear; in fact, he thought his nose, eyes, and mouth were pretty good, too. A few years earlier, he'd ascertained by looking in the mirror that he was not Zhaoqing's real son and had insisted his mother reveal the current where-abouts of his real father. He'd made such a fuss about this that his mother wept and wailed and he came to blows with his father (both of them drew blood). This, of course, further confirmed him in his conclusions: was this the behavior of a father? Chasing him out of the door with a rake? He wasn't awakened yesterday, Three Ears, he wasn't going to believe what this sonofabitch told him. He went looking for Benyi, politely offered him a cigarette, cleared his throat, set his expression, and made as if to discuss with the Party Secretary some matter of great import such as national family planning. "Uncle Benyi, as you know, the current revolutionary situation throughout the nation is indeed excellent, under the central leadership of the Party all cow demons and snake spirits have shown their true faces, those that are false are proved false, those that are real are proved real, the revolutionary truth is becoming clearer and clearer, the eyes of the revolutionary masses are brighter and brighter. Last month, our commune held a Party Representatives meeting and will next decide how to deal with the question of water conservation…"

Benyi's patience was, as ever, low: "Stop beating around the bush, if you're gonna fart, then do it quickly."

Three Ears stammered and meandered his way to the question of his natural father.

"Don't you ever look at yourself when you're having a piss, you scrawny wimp, what sort of dad d'you think you should have? Shortie Zhao's already too good for you." Benyi ground his teeth.

"Don't be like that, Uncle Benyi. I don't want to bother you or anything, I'd just like you to tell me something."

"Tell you what?"

"How was I really born?"

"Ask your mother! How should I know?"

"You're a Party cadre, I'm sure you know what really happened."

"What're you talking about? It was your mother who gave birth to you, you piece of trash, what would I know about it? I haven't even looked hard enough at her to see whether her eyebrows go straight across or straight up."

"That's not what I mean, all I was saying…"

"I've got work to do."

"So that's your final answer-you won't tell me?"

"Tell you what? What d'you want me to say? Hmm? Sticking a toad in a dragon's bed's easy enough to do, so what'll it be? D'you want a regiment commander or a director for a dad? Just say the word and I'll take you to find one. How about it?"