Under the Red Flag Read Online Free PDF Page A

“3,” Daiheng “2.” As Ming got the ace, he was to go first.
    “All right,” Sang said calmly, “everything is fine. Now you boys enjoy yourselves.” He raised the door curtain and went out.
    Ming began to mount Shuling, saying, “I’ve good luck thisyear. Nan, little bridegroom, watch your elder brother carefully and learn how to do it.”
    Nan was wondering whether Daiheng had contrived a trick in dealing out those cards. How come both Ming and Daiheng had gotten ahead of the three younger men? But he didn’t attend to his doubt for long, because soon Ming’s lean body was wriggling violently on Shuling’s. Having never seen such a scene, Nan felt giddy and short of breath, but he was also eager to experience it. They all watched intently. Meanwhile the woman kept her face away from them.
    While Daiheng was on Shuling, biting her shoulders and making happy noises, Sang came in with a small enamel bowl in his hand. He climbed on the bed and placed it beside his wife’s head. He clutched her hair and pulled her face over, and said, “Look at what’s in the bowl.” He picked up a bit of the red stuff with three fingers and let it trickle back into the bowl. “Chili powder. I’ll give it to you. Wait, after they are done with you, I’ll stuff you with it, to cure the itch in there for good.”
    His wife closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.
    Bing, who was the third, obviously had no experience with a woman before. No sooner had he gotten on top of her than he came and gave up. He held his pants, looking pained, as though he had just swallowed a bowl of bitter medicine. He coughed and blew his nose.
    Now it was Nan’s turn. He seemed bashful as he moved to Shuling. Though this was his first time, he felt confident as he straddled her and started unbuckling his pants. He looked down at her body, which reminded him of a huge frog, tied up, waiting to be skinned for its legs. Looking up, he noticed that her ear was small and delicate. He grabbed her hair and pulled herface over to see closely what she looked like. She opened her eyes, which were full of sparkling tears and staring at him. He was surprised by the fierce eyes but could not help observing them. Somehow her eyes were changing—the hatred and the fear were fading, and beneath their blurred surfaces loomed a kind of beauty and sadness that was bottomless. Nan started to fantasize, thinking of Soo Yan and other pretty girls in the village. Unconsciously he bent down and intended to kiss that pale face, which turned aside and spilled the tears. His head began swelling.
    “What are you doing?” Daiheng shouted at Nan.
    Suddenly a burst of barking broke out beyond the window. The wolfhound must have been chasing a fox or a leopard cat that had come to steal chickens. Wild growls and yelps filled the yard all at once.
    “Oh!” Nan cried out. Something snapped in his body; a numbing pain passed along his spine and forced him off her. By instinct, he managed to get to his feet and rushed to the door, holding his pants with both hands. Cold sweat was dripping from his face.
    Once in the outer room he dropped to his knees and began vomiting. In addition to the smell of the half-cooked cabbage soup in the caldron, the room was instantly filled with the odor of alcohol, sour food, fermented candies, roasted melon seeds. His new cotton-padded shoes and new dacron jacket and trousers were wet and soiled.
    “Little Nan, come on!” Daiheng said. Putting his hand on Nan’s head, he shook him twice.
    “I’m scared. No more,” Nan moaned, buckling his belt.
    “Scared by a dog? Useless,” Sang said, and restrained himself from giving Nan a kick.
    “Come on, Nan. You must do it,” Ming said. “You just lost your Yang. Go get on her and have it back, or you’ve lost it for good. Don’t you know that?”
    “No, no, I don’t want to.” Nan shook his head, groaning. “Leave me alone. I’m sick.” He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the mist