Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The mahjong parlor’s income was unreliable. Beyond a modest table fee, Grandma charged only ten yuan per person for meals.

Even then, some people tried to skip out on the bill.

I had drifted into an uneasy sleep when shouting outside woke me.

A man was ranting, “We’ve been neighbors all these years, and you’re hounding me over a few lousy yuan! To hell with this. I’m never coming back!”

I recognized the voice. He was always causing trouble at the parlor.

I crept out of bed and peered through the crack in the door.

Grandma stood there with her eyebrows drawn tight. Deep furrows covered her face, and every wrinkle looked fierce. A cigarette hung from her mouth as she shot back, “What a damn joke! You owe me two months of meal money and have the nerve to call it ‘a few lousy yuan’? If it’s so little, hand it over instead of making me chase you for it!”

“You shameless bastard, coming here every day to stuff your face. You think my house needs your mouth to swallow its slop? Get out!”

The man, humiliated in front of everyone, sneered, “Been a widow too long, have you? Desperate for a man? That’s why you keep chasing my ass every day!”

With a lewd, contemptuous grin, he slapped his crotch. “I sewed my wallet into my pants. If you’ve got the guts, stick your hand in and take the money!”

For a moment, I saw Zhou Qi in him. Men this despicable always reached for obscenity when they were losing.

Dirty talk was supposedly forbidden territory for women. Men waved it like a shit-smeared club and strutted about in triumph.

Grandma was never going to collect those two months of meal fees, I thought. I was about to quietly close the door when something shot across my vision.

Before anyone could react, Grandma grabbed the man’s pants and yanked.

At the last possible second, he caught his waistband. Half his backside still ended up on display.

The aunties at the mahjong tables watched him with bright, unflinching smiles.

Grandma spat out her cigarette and planted herself like an old street boss. “How much money do you think you’ve got down there for me to dig out? With what little you’re packing, you want to pay off your debt? I could pick up a rotten radish off the street bigger than that tiny pecker!”

Behind the door, I stared at her in disbelief.

You could do that?

Grandma rained slaps down on the man. “That’ll teach you to run your filthy mouth! Think I won’t strip those pants to your ankles, pull off that little thing, and hang it over my door?”

His face turned as red as a boiled crawfish. Bent double, he clutched desperately at his waistband. “Stop pulling! Don’t pull!”

Grandma kept hitting and cursing. “Try me, you son of a bitch!”

The spectators laughed. A few looked disapproving.

Maybe they thought Grandma crude, savage, and undignified.

To me, she seemed to glow.

Nothing could defeat her-not reputation, not other people’s judgment. None of it mattered to her.

Unable to hold her off, the man finally shouted, “Let go! I’ll transfer the money!”

The room erupted in jeers at his surrender. Grandma finally collected two months’ worth of meal fees.

As I watched him flee in disgrace, something clicked inside me.

Why did girls have to be proper, quiet, and concerned with saving face?

I would raise enough hell to turn the whole world upside down.