Binu and the Great Wall of China (16 page)

Binu had been told she would see Great Swallow Mountain as soon as she crossed the plain and a mountain range came into view. But she had not expected the plain to be so vast that the end seemed unreachable. Along the way, she passed many heavily populated, bustling cities whose names she forgot, but she could never forget Five-Grain City, where the northbound road ended. Prefecture soldiers formed a dark human wall, driving away carts and people, including Binu.

The road was closed because the King was coming to Five-Grain City. Some people were saying that the King and his entourage had already arrived in Pingyang Prefecture, following a canal that was only rumoured to exist. The day the golden-turret boat was finished, the story went, was the day the canal would open for travel. But everyone in Pingyang Prefecture knew that the golden-turret boat, donated jointly by the three southern prefectures, had already arrived in the capital, while the canal, the construction of which was the responsibility
of the four northern prefectures, had yet to be built. No one knew who had had the audacity to deceive the King. A painter had once sketched the canal scene on a scroll, seven feet long, all from his imagination. On it, the masts of hundreds of boats rose like a forest, while the scenery along the way was marked by an abundance of people and animals. The King was moved by the enchanting scene, and the word circulating throughout Pingyang Prefecture was that he and his entourage were travelling south with that scroll, towing the golden-turret boat across Pingyang Prefecture in search of the canal.

Outside the gate of Five-Grain City, people were talking about the deceived King, the lovely scroll, and the golden-turret boat, which had been built by the skilful hands of nine hundred craftsmen. It was the most dazzling sight in the King’s procession, or so said the people who lived near the capital. Like a giant dragon among the imperial carriages, it followed the King on his southward journey. Winds blew and clouds gathered wherever it went, leaving a golden aura in its wake.

A child in the crowd shouted out, ‘There’s no canal; that boat will never sail. Heads will roll when the King finds out.’

The people by the gate turned to look at the boy and sighed. ‘If even a child knows what will happen, what
is wrong with all those high officials? There’s something fishy here.’

Another boy, hungry for attention, said, ‘Canals don’t have to be aboveground. What makes you think we are worthy of actually seeing the King’s canal? It flows underground, and that’s where the golden-turret boat will sail.’

His wild talk was met with catcalls. But then, someone pointed to his own forehead and, with his eyes and hands, made gestures that hinted at an even more terrifying rumour – that there was something wrong with the King’s head.

‘Don’t be fooled into thinking that just because you pointed to your forehead and said nothing, you have nothing to worry about,’ someone cautioned him. ‘You need to control your tongue
and
your hands. If a constable saw you, you could lose your head as easily from gesturing as from speaking.’

Binu listened to all the talk about national affairs, not understanding a word of it. But then she noticed that many of the people were looking up at the city gate, and she followed their eyes. ‘What are those objects?’ she asked. ‘Are they melons? Why hang them up so high?’

An old man nearby laughed. ‘Melons? Not the edible kind. Take another look.’

She did, and then she shrieked. She raised her sleeve
to cover her eyes but her arm slumped and she fell into the arms of the old man, who laid her on the ground. Everyone stared at him.

‘I wonder what village she’s from,’ he said, embarrassed and angry at the same time. ‘A woman of her age, and she’s never seen a human head.’

A kind-hearted woman came over and gently slapped Binu’s face, urging her to open her eyes. ‘There’s no need for someone from a good family to be afraid. Only bandits and assassins are afraid of human heads. Open your eyes and take a good look. Then you’ll never be afraid again. You’re not going to go blind looking at them. Actually, it will do you good, because you’ll be extra careful with what you say and do in the future.’ In her view, the men deserved to die. Some of the other victims, on the other hand, died a wrongful death, losing their lives because they could not control their tongues.

Binu stared in shock and amazement, unconsciously shutting her mouth to hide her tongue until she needed to take a deep breath. ‘Elder Sister,’ she said, ‘are you warning me by all this talk about losing tongues? How could a few words cost someone her tongue? Back in Peach Village we weren’t allowed to shed tears, but after a while we got used to it. But if people cannot gossip, that will turn everyone into voluntary mutes, won’t it?’

‘It all depends on what kind of gossip.’ The woman frowned. ‘What you just said could get you into trouble, talking about voluntary or involuntary mutes. If an official heard you, he might charge you with a crime against the state. In any case, you must control your tongue. Say only what you should say, and not what you shouldn’t.’

Binu noted that when the woman spoke, her lips moved at the speed of light, but she never showed her tongue.

The big brass bell rang out in the gate tower, a sign for people to enter the city. It induced a sense of panic in people’s hearts, but also livened up the indolent crowd. Women called out for their children in shrill voices as the chaotic queue of people ran along beside the base of the wall; apart from the children, no one looked up at the heads hanging on the city wall, as the crowd separated into groups. Not knowing where she belonged, Binu fell in with a group of refugees in tattered clothes. When they reached the gate, they divided again, with the men lining up by a large gate and the women and children by a small one. Binu stood with the women. A soldier came up to look more closely at her nearly-black mourning clothes.

‘Who in your family died? How did your mourning clothes get so filthy?’

She was about to answer when she recalled the warning to control her tongue, so she merely pointed to the north. Assuming she was newly widowed, the soldier asked her about the deceased.

‘How did your husband die? Was he beheaded by the government for robbery, did he die of the plague during the summer, or did he sacrifice his life at a border as a guard?’

Binu knew that telling the truth would only bring her trouble, but she didn’t know how to lie, so she bit her tongue and kept silent, pointing once more to the north.

‘Did your husband die up north? Are you a mute? How did we get another mute?’ He took a good look at Binu’s expression and became suspicious. ‘That’s strange,’ he said. ‘Why are there so many mutes on the road today? Get over to the west side. Everyone who is mute, blind, limp, sick or foreign must be examined at the western gate.’

The line at the western gate was not long. In front of her stood a candy-seller, dressed in a black robe. From behind, he loomed tall and brawny. He was an unusual sight. Ever since all the young men had been conscripted to work in the north the previous spring, men like this were no longer to be found on the road. They were either working on the Great Wall or working as beasts of burden
on the Thousand Year Palace. Binu wondered to herself how this fellow managed to roam the land selling candies, so she stepped out in front to check him out.

He turned to face her and asked, ‘Big Sister, would you like to buy a candy?’

Binu found herself being scrutinized by a pair of sharp, bright eyes on the man’s young but tired face; he was calm as a hawk, yet he embodied an indescribable power to terrify. Shaking her head, she backed away. She remembered those eyes; they belonged to the retainer that the carter had met at Bluegrass Ravine. The masked man had been as tall and as brawny as this one, his eyes as icy cold. She also recalled that a musky smell had come from the masked retainer’s black robe. Now a gust of wind blew through the gate, lifting a corner of the man’s robe, and Binu detected the same intriguing smell.

She opened her mouth, but was once again reminded of the warning from the woman so she covered her mouth with her sleeve and poked at the man with her finger. He turned around again, but this time his eyes were full of disgust.

‘Elder Sister, if you don’t want to buy a candy, fine, but please don’t poke me. I can see you’re in mourning, and you ought not to be so familiar.’

She turned scarlet from embarrassment, but remained
convinced that he was the one who had ridden on the oxcart. Why had he come to Five-Grain City to sell candies? ‘I wouldn’t have poked you if I didn’t know you,’ Binu blurted out, unable to control herself, after all. ‘Since you are a Hundred Springs Terrace retainer, why have you come here to sell candies? I poked you because I recognize you.’

‘What’s this about? I don’t know you.’

‘You don’t know me, but I know you. Big Brother, I have such sharp eyes I can recognize the birds flying over our heads. They fly out one year, and I remember them when they fly back the next. You are going to Great Swallow Mountain too, aren’t you? If not, you would not be passing through Five-Grain City. After walking for days, I’ve finally met someone I know. After the King leaves, let’s travel together and look out for one another.’

‘I am not going to Great Swallow Mountain and I cannot look out for you. I am a cripple. You have two legs but I have only one. How can someone with one leg take care of a two-legged person?’ He stared at her coldly, then whipped open his robe and said, ‘Take a look. I have only one leg. Why else would they have me line up at the western gate to enter the city?’

Filled with doubt, Binu bent down and saw that something
was indeed missing under his black robe. He had one good leg and a stump wrapped in cloth. ‘But you had two legs, I’m sure of that. When you came down from the hills at Bluegrass Ravine, you ran faster than a horse.’ Binu grabbed hold of the stump to get a closer look and said, surprise in her voice, ‘It has only been half a month since I left Bluegrass Ravine. How did you manage to lose a leg so quickly?’

‘I tell you, I’ve never seen such a flighty woman. A vulgar woman with an obscene hand. How dare you grab hold of a man’s leg!’

Binu felt something hit her hand; he had swatted her with his candy rack. She looked up to see the icy cold stare replaced by a flame of hatred.

‘Control your hand,’ said the man, ‘and watch your tongue. Let me tell you, with things so chaotic in the city, killing a loose woman would be easier than squashing an insect.’

The people who were already inside the gate turned to examine Binu with penetrating stares.

‘No matter how hard life is,’ a female beggar said haughtily, ‘a woman should not forsake her chastity. Look at her, she has yet to shed her mourning clothes and already she is seducing a man.’

A couple who looked like mutes gave Binu filthy looks
and gestured angrily, ‘What a loose woman. Even a bitch in heat knows to pick her place. But not her.’

The humiliation brought tears to Binu’s eyes. What kind of woman did they think she was? The unanimous evil eye from the crowd frightened her, and now she regretted ignoring the warning of the woman. She should not have opened her mouth so readily in Five-Grain City. It had taken only three comments for them to turn her into a loose woman. Embarrassed and enraged, she felt like following the Peach Village custom of spitting three times at these people, but lacked the courage. So she resigned herself to raising her sleeve to cover her mouth and slinking away into the crowd.

The tower bell had stopped ringing, causing people who wanted to enter the city to make a frenzied surge towards the gate. Still feeling the effects of humiliation, Binu watched their backs and followed behind them, keeping her distance from the mysterious cripple. Over the heads and shoulders of people separating them, she saw the candy rack and the little candied figures swaying happily in mid air. The colourful candied figures – fairies, deities, ghosts and cherubs – sent frozen smiles to Binu.

The sour stench of human bodies and their clothes and luggage permeated the air. Someone coughed and spat up a gob of phlegm. It was a consumptive standing
unsteadily behind Binu; clearly influenced by public opinion, he had decided that she was a loose woman. So, after a violent coughing fit, he reached under her robe. At first she didn’t scream, but merely slapped his hand away and moved forward after tightening her robe. But he pressed forward, a stick-thin, bony hand and a soft, secretive organ coming together to attach themselves to her buttocks. This time she screamed; her lips moved a few times and tears began to flow. She covered her eyes with her sleeve.

Stumbling and struggling to break free, Binu reached out and touched many people’s faces. Wanting to avoid being injured, they stepped back and made way for her. And so, like a wheel, Binu rolled over next to the man selling candied figures. He stood up when he saw Binu heading straight for him. An agile jump on his one leg took him easily out of her way. Tears were already pouring down her face when she hit the ground. The crowd saw her point at the consumptive man; her lips were moving but nothing came out. All they heard were fragile, baby-like sobs.

‘Where did this woman come from?’ someone commented, after analysing the crying. ‘A grown woman should not cry like a baby.’

Another woman, moved by what she saw, approached
her out of compassion and touched her. ‘Don’t cry,’ she said. ‘You mustn’t cry once you’ve entered the gate. It’s a Five-Grain City rule, has been for a hundred years.’

Binu flicked away all the hands reaching out to her and stubbornly sat on the ground and cried, her tears flying in all directions.

People who were trying to pull her to her feet jumped back, shielding their faces with their hands. ‘Where did this woman come from: water? She cries like rain; my clothes are all wet.’

Binu’s wails drew the attention of gate guards, who ran over, shouting, ‘Who’s crying? Who’s crying at the gate? Have you had enough of living?’

People frantically moved away from Binu and pointed. ‘Do something with this woman. A little mistreatment and she cries like rain.’