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91 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2015
An autumn morning, the air hung humid, a layer of transparent dewdrops clung to blades of grass and roof tiles. Leaves on the scholar tree had begun to turn yellow; a rusty iron bell hanging from a branch was also dew laden. The production team leader, a padded jacket draped over his shoulders, ambled towards the bell, carrying a sorghum flatbread in one hand and clutching a thick-peeled leek in the other. By the time he reached the bell, his hands were empty, but his cheeks were puffed out like a field mouse scurrying away with autumn provisions. He yanked the clapper against the side of the bell, which rang out loudly, – clang, clang, clang. People young and old streamed out of the lanes to converge beneath the bell, eyes fixed on the team leader, like a crowd of marionettes. He swallowed hard, and wiped his stubble-ringed mouth on his sleeve. (p.1)
‘During an idle moment at the forge, the blacksmith put the sweet potatoes from the night before into the forge to bake. A light wind blew in from the jute fields. Sunlight shone straight into the arched openings. The blacksmith, singing, as he turned the sticky potatoes over with his tongs. From Beijing to Nanjing, I’ve never seen anyone string up an electric light in their pants.’