A madman in France? How come he's always at crime scenes!

Chapter 15 My name is Ni Dayong

My name is Ni Dayong.

My father gave me the name Dayong.

He said that one should be courageous and strong, and not let others bully them.

But even as I grew into my thirties, I didn't become the person he envisioned.

In my entire life, I haven't had much formal education, nor have I traveled far from home. The farthest I've ever been is to the cement factory west of Tongcheng. That place is incredibly dusty; when the wind blows, a layer of dirt can cover your face, and you can't get it clean even after washing three times.

People in the village say I'm honest, but honesty isn't considered a compliment in the village.

If someone asks you to help carry water, and you do it, that's called being honest.

If someone borrows 300 yuan from you and doesn't pay it back for three years, and you don't scold them, that's called being honest.

There are no women in your family, and you're still living alone in your thirties. When others are drinking, they pat you on the shoulder and say, "Dayong, you're just too honest."

At that time, I also felt that there was nothing wrong with being honest.

The crops in the field won't grow an inch less just because you're honest, and the fire in the stove won't burn a handful less firewood just because you're honest; life goes on as usual.

One day, a man surnamed Sha brought a woman to the village, saying he wanted to entrust her to an honest man to marry.

I am that honest man.

The woman's name was Jiang Cuilan.

The village children often gathered around my door to watch her. If someone laughed, she would shrink back against the wall, cover her ears with her sleeves, and keep muttering to herself.

Don't hit me, don't hit me.

My mother had already passed away by then, and I was all alone at home. I didn't know how to live with a woman, nor did I know how to live with someone like that.

She didn't know how to start a fire, so she stuffed a whole bundle of firewood into the stove, filling the whole house with smoke.

She didn't know how to wash clothes, so she soaked my cotton-padded jacket in a water vat for two days. When she took it out, it smelled sour.

She couldn't tell the difference between morning and night. Sometimes she would squat in the yard at midnight to look at the stars, and I would stay by her side, listening to her cry as she looked at them.

She wasn't crying loudly, just shedding tears. After a while, she looked up and asked me.

"Where's my mother?"

I said I didn't know.

She asked again.

"Where's my mother?"

I still say I don't know.

She lowered her head, as if she hadn't understood, yet also as if she had already understood.

The village thugs said, "Ni Dayong, you've lost out."

They spent so much money to buy a fool, and they still don't know how to make money off a fool.

Somehow, the fist landed on the thug.

Anyway, after that day, no one said that to me anymore.

Later, she became pregnant.

I don't know whose child it is.

It's embarrassing to say this, but I really didn't know. It's ridiculous, but Cuilan has been home for quite a while, and I haven't even touched her.

Cuilan didn't understand many things. She didn't understand what husband and wife meant, why the women in the village sighed when they saw her, or why some men looked at her strangely.

All she knew was that her belly was getting bigger every day, and that walking and sleeping were both tiring.

One night, she was in so much pain that she clutched the corner of the blanket and cried out for her mother.

The village midwife arrived and, after half the night of labor, a baby girl was born.

I named her Ni Xiang, which means incense.

That morning, Jiang Cuilan held the child, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

she asked me.

"What is this?"

I said, "This is your daughter."

She asked again.

"Mine?"

I said, "It's yours."

She looked at the baby for a long time, then suddenly pulled the baby close to her chest, so close that the baby cried. The midwife was startled and quickly took the baby away, scolding her for not knowing how to hold a baby.

Jiang Cuilan sat on the kang (a heated brick bed), staring blankly at her arm.

She didn't know what she had done wrong.

She just wanted to hug her child.

If life continues like this, I might just accept it for the rest of my life.

We'll continue farming, we'll continue eating, and the children will grow up eventually. It doesn't matter if Cuilan is a little slow; I can teach her. It doesn't matter if she learns slowly; it doesn't matter if she learns for a lifetime.

But there are always some people who won't let you live your life as it is.

The man surnamed Sha is here again.

It was springtime, the wind carried the scent of earth, and the apricot tree by the courtyard wall had just blossomed. Jiang Cuilan squatted on the ground, drawing circles with a twig, while Ni Xiang sat on a small stool, munching on a cornbread bun.

Two people came to the door.

One is Sha Yuanbao.

The other one had broad arms and a dark red birthmark under his neck; his name was Ding Hu.

Sha Yuanbao smiled as soon as he entered the door.

"Dayong, you're doing well."

When I saw him, my heart sank.

These kinds of people only come to your door when they smell money.

I said, "Come inside and sit down."

Sha Yuanbao didn't sit down. His eyes swept over Jiang Cuilan and then looked at Ni Xiang.

He stared at me for so long that I wanted to take the child inside.

Sha Yuanbao smiled and said.

"This child is good-looking."

Jiang Cuilan stiffened upon hearing his voice. She glanced up at him, then quickly lowered her head again, muttering to herself.

Don't hit me.

Don't hit me.

Ding Hu chuckled and pointed at Ni Xiang and the man surnamed Sha, saying something to them.

Sha Yuanbao entered the main room and asked for money.

He said Jiang Cuilan sold it too cheaply back then.

He said this woman is fertile and therefore valuable.

He said the child has grown up and doesn't look like me anymore.

When he said this, I stood up, imagining how I would greet a thug.

He wasn't afraid at all. He took out a cigarette from his pocket and slowly lit it.

"Dayong, don't rush."

"Making a scene is bad for everyone."

I asked him how much he wanted.

He said five thousand.

Five thousand yuan.

At that time, all the money in my family combined didn't even amount to five hundred.

I said no.

Sha Yuanbao looked at me with a smile.

If you don't have one, find one.

Ding Hu was teasing Ni Xiang in the yard. Before his outstretched arm could even touch the child, Jiang Cuilan suddenly pounced on her and hugged Ni Xiang tightly.

She doesn't swear, she just talks.

"Mine."

Ding Hu said, "Who's taking it from you?"

Jiang Cuilan hugged the child and stepped back, her back hitting the water vat. She shuddered in pain, but still didn't let go.

Sha Yuanbao looked at her, and the smile on his face disappeared.

He walked over and tried to raise his hand, but I stopped him.

Cuilan was terrified; her eyes looked exactly the same as when she first came to my house and heard the wind whistling through the door in the middle of the night.

I stood in front of her and said I would find a way to get the money.

Sha Yuanbao said, "Three days."

He came to pick it up three days later.

As they left, Sha Yuanbao glanced back at Jiang Cuilan, then at Ni Xiang.

I can never forget that one glance.

But he broke his promise and knocked on my door at night less than three days later.

I wasn't home; I went to town to borrow money.

I borrowed all day but only managed to get two hundred. It was already dark when I got back to the village. At the village entrance, I saw Ding Hu running out in a panic, and for some reason, my heart skipped a beat.

I ran all the way to my doorstep, and as soon as I entered, I smelled blood.

It smells like blood when a pig is slaughtered.

I panicked immediately and rushed inside. I saw the table in the main room overturned on the ground, bowls shattered everywhere, and the stone pestle used for grinding flour lying to one side.

The man surnamed Sha was lying on the ground with a pool of blood under the back of his head.

Cuilan squatted by the stove, head down, holding the child, a silly smile on her face.

I went over and hugged her. Cuilan nestled in my arms like a child who had done something wrong, and whispered.

"He wanted to take the baby away."

I didn't say anything.

"Will he hit me again?"

I looked at the sand pebbles on the ground and whispered to her.

No, not anymore.

Never again.

……

The soil in spring isn't hard, but I dig very slowly. The shovel falls one shovelful at a time, the sound muffled in the ground. In the distance, lights are still on in some houses, and perhaps food is being heated in a pot.

The pit was too close to them.

It was so close that it was separated by several walls, so close that it was just a village road, so close that people would still carry water through it at daybreak.

When I filled the soil back in, it was almost dawn.

Back home, Cuilan sat on the doorstep, holding Ni Xiang in her arms.

she asked me.

Where are they?

I said I was leaving.

She nodded, and after a while, asked again.

"Will you give it back?"

I said I wasn't coming back.

After listening, she lowered her head and kissed Ni Xiang's hair.

"That's good."