Chinese Literature

“Then Yun-pu, you are still not in the red. Why are you being so troublesome?”

“Please, Mr. Ho, don’t you think my family have to eat! There’s also the taxes to pay. Please, Mr. Ho, I must beg of you to be merciUTS Sewer

Tears were streaming out of Uncle Yun-pu’s eyes. At this critical moment, he could only try to arouse the pity of his creditors by begging until the bitter end. He finally went down on his knees before them, and kowtowed several times, knocking his head hard on the ground as if he were worshipping Buddha.

“Please, Mr. Ho and Mr. Li, you must save my old skin... .”

‘Uh! uh... all right, Yun-pu, I promise you. But you must not keep back a single kernel of the grain you owe me under the rent and debt. When you really find it hard to manage in the future, I'll again lend you some grain to feed your family. Furthermore, you must send in your grain by tomorrow. One day’s delay and I shall charge one day’s interest, 4.5%, 4.5%!.. .”

“Oh, Mr. Ho.”

Barly the next morning, Uncle Yun-pu, his eyes full of tears, woke Shao-pu, and together they opened the door of the barn. Mr. Li’s and Mr. Ho’s hired hands were waiting outside. This showed how considerate they were. They were afraid that Uncle Yun-pu could not manage to transport so much grain in one day by himself and had sent their own hired hands over to help carry it.

Golden, sturdy grain was measured picul by picul and taken from the barn. Yun-pu felt that a thousand sharp knives were stabbing into his heart. Tears trickled down one by one and shivers shook him wave after wave. Ying-ying’s tear-stained face, his aching muscles, the burning sun, the storming flood, Mercy Powder, tree bark . . . memories of all these crowded into his mind.

Every hired hand had already slung the carrying pole, which balanced two baskets of rice, onto his shoulders. Turning back, they said to Uncle Yun-pu, “Let’s go.”

Uncle Yun-pu heaved a pole to his shoulder with all his strength. The grain seemed to weigh a thousand catties, and sweat poured down his face. He glared with hatred towards the farmstead of Mr. Ho and stepped out of his own door. His feet barely managed to take a few steps, and then they felt as if they were treading on nails. He wanted to put down his load and rest a moment, but his head was swimming, and the aching in his heart was too much to bear.

“Oh, Heaven!” he shrieked as he fell to the ground, spilling the grain everywhere.

“Shao-pu, Shao-pu, your Dad has fainted.”

“Dad, Dad, oh Daddy... .”

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