Short story: The Martial Gate
As evening drew to a close, the sunset resembled bubbles of chicken fat on a blazing fire, shriveled and gray. Lightning flashed like dry fish bones streaking across the sky, tinged with a cold, ash-like hue.
As evening drew to a close, the sunset was like glistening fat on a hot pan, shriveled and gray. Lightning flashed like dry fish bones streaking across the sky, casting a cold, ash-like hue. Old Hien set off again, but just as he reached the town, a strong storm raged. He decided to go into a pesticide shop and tell them his rice crop was severely infested with rice blast. He asked them to sell him a large bottle of insecticide. He placed a thick stack of small bills, from one to five thousand dong, on the counter and quickly told the saleswoman to sell him a bottle. He hobbled along, intending to find a ditch with plenty of water and reeds. He would tilt his head back and savor it like children sipping a cool glass of Coca-Cola before rolling into the ditch. The rain stopped, the sky darkened quickly, and as he wondered which way to go, Tinh suddenly appeared. He snatched the bottle of insecticide, hoisted Old Hien onto his shoulder, carried him back to the shop where he had bought it, and then teased him as they passed several more shops. Everywhere she went, she would show people her father's face, whimpering, "This is my father. He's mentally ill and thinks pesticide is water, so you can't sell him anything he wants."
The old man's stomach churned, his eyes stinging. And yet this boy claimed him as his father. No! He only owed a debt of gratitude to the mother and son, but over the years, Mrs. Ut and Tinh had already repaid it all.
***
In his youth, he was a seasoned adventurer. Shortly after getting married, he decided to cross the border to make a living. His wife pleaded with him, saying that working as a laborer in the village would pay less, but at least they could see each other. He dismissed her pleas, saying that if he didn't take the risk, they would remain poor year after year. He left, and his young wife collapsed onto the porch, sobbing uncontrollably.
He would be away for two years at a time before returning home, building a kitchen for his wife, but it wasn't enough to plant a seed in her womb before he left again. Several people from his village who went with him chose to work as casino guards. One time, the police raided the place, and he knew he would be arrested and imprisoned for illegal entry, so he and dozens of others recklessly jumped into the river. Everyone believed he wouldn't return because the police recovered dozens of bodies, including everyone else who had been with him, except for his, whose body was lost.
One fine day, the thin, dark-skinned old man appeared, shocking his wife and the villagers. Their reunion was filled with tears and bitter shame. He stood before his own portrait, furiously questioning his wife and then brandishing a knife, intending to stab the man who was living with her. She embraced him, kneeling at his feet to let him escape. He refused to leave, returning in the middle of the night to try and abduct her. The old man spread his legs wide in the middle of the house, demanding that the man crawl under him to have her. She bit her lip, weeping, and struggled to utter bitter words, saying that the pain of losing her husband had momentarily swayed her, leading her to seek him out as a replacement. He turned away in disappointment, while the old man vowed revenge, using the moral lessons he had preached day after day.
***
The child appeared when he and his wife were on the verge of breaking up, and suspicion, like worms, gnawed at his soul. The child wasn't his. He was certain, even as his wife's belly was already eight months pregnant. Her eyes held a look of utter despair. He hated that look. Her deathly silence made him feel utterly worthless. He stormed out of the house in the night, the rain pattering softly from the dry thatched roof.
Leaving home, the old man went to the field hut, intending to stay there for a few days to escape the unpleasant sights and sounds. On the second day, a fierce flash flood swept through, carrying away several houses in the lowlands. His brothers, knowing what had happened, advised him to return home to look after his wife and children. Just as he reached the bridge, he encountered the thin, frail Tinh, adrift in the raging water. Mrs. Ut cried out desperately for her son, but no one dared risk it. They were all cowards. So the old man jumped in, the muddy water rushing into his mouth, his whole body hurtling like a bicycle speeding downhill with its brakes failing, the birthmark on his back throbbing with pain. Strangely, whenever he faced danger, the birthmark would twitch and burn like an electric shock.
The old man turned sideways and let himself drift. As he drifted past, he saw Tinh clinging to a banana tree like a small frog. He quickly spread his arms wide, thrusting his feet into the water to aim at Tinh. When he was one or two meters away from Tinh, he risked leaping across like an otter. After much struggling, until both he and Tinh were completely exhausted, they finally found a calm spot to drift ashore. Mrs. Ut thought Tinh was dead and wept uncontrollably. Seeing the boy, his face pale, crawling towards her and weakly calling "mother, mother," she snapped back to reality. She bowed her head repeatedly to the ground in gratitude. The old man didn't care about gratitude; he stood up and looked for his way home. The path leading to his house was slippery with mud, and the tall, broken cogon grass was overgrown. His house was empty; the flood had swept away all the wooden planks surrounding it. Under the rubble, his wife's rubber sandals lay haphazardly. He ran around calling for his wife, his voice hoarse, but she didn't answer. The old man rushed down the hill, tumbled over, and then scrambled back to his feet. Unable to cry out, he screamed, a piercing scream that drew the villagers' attention. People rushed to the scene, lighting torches and searching for his wife for three days, but to no avail. On the fourth day, when the floodwaters receded, his wife was found washed ashore in a cornfield. Her eight-month pregnant belly was swollen and bulging like that of a drowned buffalo. People wouldn't let him approach, but he disregarded them and tore at her, pushing her into the crowd. The corpse, its face slimy and black, riddled with holes from fish gnawing at it, lay motionless, oozing blood.
The old man knelt, rolling around, his hands reaching out and then retracting. The villagers wrapped his wife in raincoats, tossing and turning, causing a strange "popping" sound in her stomach. The air thickened, the dampness and foul smell dissipating. Everyone was frightened, scattering in bewilderment as they watched the dark mass writhe and bubble, spewing out as if compressed air had been waiting to burst. The dark liquid drained away, and when they removed her clothes, everyone was shocked and horrified to discover a child had fully emerged from her crotch, still inside the amniotic sac. Upon touching it, the sac burst, revealing the baby's pale skin... Yet, on its back, a birthmark that had turned a deep purple was still clearly visible.
***
Since the death of his wife and children, the old man had gone mad, eating whatever he could find. Mrs. Ut, unable to bear the sight, took him in to repay his kindness. On the first day, she lit an incense stick for him to place in the incense burner of his wife, which she had brought home to worship. He howled, stammered, tore at his hair, and went on a rampage, smashing things. His wife was still alive and well, sitting with him every night on a mat spread in the courtyard, sometimes combing his hair, other times fanning him in the sweltering summer heat. His son was 15 years old, quite grown up, and would soon get married and have children for him to dote on. Seeing him go mad, Mrs. Ut and Tinh had to take him outside and quickly find a craftsman to install a door to separate the worship room from him. She also diligently took him to various places for treatment, but the doctors said the illness stemmed from the mind, and that a peaceful mind would bring good health. She reluctantly brought him home, having heard that a long-lived carp that transformed into a dragon could cure all diseases. So Tinh started raising fish, releasing only bright pink carp into the pond. He cared for them well, and they grew incredibly fast, but their pink color gradually faded. Aunt Ut persistently steamed one fish with black beans each day, urging the old man to eat them all. Even though those fish couldn't transform into dragons and couldn't clear his mind, they did ease his pain and comfort him, helping him to live out the rest of his weary life plagued by various ailments.
***
Tịnh carried the old man, who thrashed about on his back like a child throwing a tantrum. Exhausted, Tịnh let him fall onto the grass, while he sat down on the ground and sobbed. The old man stared at Tịnh blankly. Suddenly, Tịnh, as if in a frenzy, turned and grabbed the old man's collar, twisting and turning him, "You want to die, don't you? Then I'll let you die!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he sprang up, one hand gripping the old man's waist and the other his thigh, throwing him like a sack of rice. Tịnh ran swiftly towards the lake, and with all his might, he jumped in, carrying the old man. The old man was a good swimmer, but since the incident, his swimming ability seemed to have vanished. He was overwhelmed by the water, sinking and surfacing repeatedly, thrashing about wildly. The shimmering reflections of the water faded in the dim light of the full moon, obscured by clouds. Suddenly, the old man saw his wife return, holding a child. She stood to the side, only allowing him to see half of the baby's face wrapped in a diaper. His eyes were clouded with a film, and the more pain he felt, the cloudier they became. She just stood silently watching him, and only after a long time did she open her mouth to say, "Let's go." His whole body tensed; he stammered her name, trying to reach out and grab her, but she was like a silken ribbon, fluttering before his eyes before vanishing into thin air, silent and gone.
Tịnh gritted his teeth and stood close to the shore, waiting, hoping the old man's will to live would revive. Suddenly, the old man stopped struggling. Tịnh, panicked, swam out and found him lying on his back, his feet dangling in the water, gently searching for the shore. He scrambled onto the grassy bank, collapsed, and gasped for breath. When he stopped breathing, he stared intently at the moon, then curled up and sobbed quietly. After ceasing his weeping, he reached out to Tịnh, gasping, "Go buy me a bottle of liquor." Tịnh was taken aback, lunging at the old man and eagerly asking, "You want to drink liquor? You don't want to die anymore, do you?"
The old man remained silent, and Tinh pulled him up to walk back to the village.
***
After that day, the old man became gentler, no longer threatening to kill himself. He also stopped eating fish, no matter what Aunt Ut said, he stubbornly refused. Many nights, he couldn't sleep, his eyes flickering as he gazed at the closed altar. One day, Aunt Ut saw him hobbling into the room. As the darkness slowly dissipated, he silently fumbled around, lighting incense without turning on the light. Outside, it was raining, and the croaking of frogs filled the still pond.
The rain stopped, and the sun shone brightly. Tịnh excitedly rang the gong to call the fish, but there was no longer the scene of fish circling and gathering together waiting for food. The heavy rain had caused the water to rise, but it was still a long way from the shore. Yet, schools of carp still chose their way through the water, escaping one after another, leaving the banks empty. Mrs. Út comforted Tịnh, telling her not to be sad or regretful, because carp, in order to transform into dragons, must overcome the Dragon Gate.
