Aftershock by Zhang Ling EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Zhang Ling
- Language: English
- Genre: Women’s Sagas
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.3 MB
- Price: Free
April 1968
Fengrun County, Tangshan, Hebei Province, China
Seventeen-year-old Li Yuanni leaned on her walking stick as she sang
beneath the locust tree in her yard. The song had an interesting title:
“The Laundry Song.” It was about a group of young Tibetan women
washing clothes for the PLA soldiers stationed in their village. A loud
gesture of praise and gratitude for the good deeds the soldiers had done
for the locals, with the edge of propaganda smoothed over by the beauty
of nature weaved into the lyrics in the form of snow-capped mountains,
warm sunshine, and the glistening Brahmaputra River. Yuanni loved the
song.
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The tree had lived for many years. It had seen the stable boy of
Emperor Kangxi watering the horses in this yard, and it had heard the
young, reckless Boxers drinking and plotting a rebellion on the street
corner. It had witnessed the dirty underbellies of Japanese planes as they
hovered overhead, dropping their black waste over the land. The tree had
seen all the ups and downs for countless years, witnessing both the thrill
and the desolation of dynastic change. As the tree grew old, the stories it
held multiplied, and so did its branches and vines, creating a dark patch
of shade under the shining white sun. This was the season when birds
practically tore their throats out in this canopy, each vying to sing louder
than its companions—but now, there was only silence in the tree because
the birds were entranced by Yuanni’s voice.
Yuanni’s voice was not a voice at all; it was a stream of qi. When
the qi was generated just below the navel, it was gentle and unobtrusive,
but as it climbed up through the organs, it picked up all sorts of
emotions. By the time it made its way out over the tongue, it had become
a pointed iron nail that pierced the eardrum, drilling one hole after
another.
People from the county seat had heard Tseten Dolma’s powerful
singing on the radio, and they had seen the Red Guards from the
provincial capital singing and dancing on the stage of the county’s
Revolutionary Committee. But all those voices were passed through the
loudspeaker, filtered by the wires and iron box, creating an inexplicable
feeling of estrangement. Yuanni’s singing was completely unadorned,
and though it was rough, it had a sort of naked intimacy. The people of
the county seat had never seen anything of the world. They thought this
was the sound of nature.
A crowd gathered outside the courtyard.
“Stop singing. Are you trying to attract the wolves?” Her mother
came out of the house and held out a hot towel so Yuanni could clean her
face.
Yuanni flicked her mother’s hand away and hobbled to the
courtyard gate. “What are you looking at?” She stood on the steps,
spitting the words at the crowd. The words smashed a hole in the ground,
stirring up a thin plume of dust.
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