At first， as each woman fed me， Uncle would look away， crouching down on the ground to silently smoke a cigarette. Later， he became blasé and didn't shy away anymore. He enjoyed the same treatment as me. To use the words of Wufang from our village， I enjoyed it with my mouth and Uncle enjoyed it with his eyes. Every now and then， if the man of the house was out， Uncle could flirt with the woman. Some of the looser women even opened up their blouses to reveal all of their breasts， and "fed" him a whole faceful of milk.
I have to admit honestly， Uncle's "problem of manners" first started because of me. That day， it was Guosheng's woman (who later became my "third Auntie" ) who was meant to feed me. To this day I still remember she had a mole on her breast， it left a very deep impression on me. Perhaps I sucked too long that day， but all I could get out of her was body odour， I couldn't get any milk. I got desperate. Then suddenly there was a mournful shriek. Guosheng's woman gave out a scream that alarmed the whole village. In the carrot days， she was stick thin， her skin was sickly yellow， and her nipples were so shrivelled up you couldn't get any milk out. I kept on sucking and sucking and sucking until my teeth bit down on her. At that moment when she screamed out， Uncle rushed forwards. In the confusion he quickly reached out his hands： one hand seized her breast， and one grabbed my little chin. He was probably trying to yank the breast out of my mouth， but what the women who came running over saw was Uncle grabbing onto her pale breast， which was dripping with blood.
For a time there was a lot of controversy. That night， both couples fought. Guosheng took his woman， with her ruined breast， into the courtyard and beat her. And behind closed doors inside the other house， Wu Yuhua and Uncle had a giant fight. The water jar was smashed.
In times like those， whenever women saw Uncle， they would say， "An old dog with a little dog. A pair of scourges."
In my childhood， I certainly was a scourge in the village.
In Wuliang， a "scourge" means a "scoundrel" ， a little rat shit dropped in the soup. And I was that rat shit. In those days， purely from the point of view of the individuals of Wuliang， I was an invader， I was the object of the whole village's hate. You could see it in their eyes.
I must admit I did lots of terrible things as a kid. The worst time， the villagers took advantage of the fact that Uncle had gone to town for a meeting， and hung me up on a tree as punishment.
When I think of it now， I can see what I did then as a child， if it had been just a tiny bit worse， was enough for real criminal punishment.
The winter when I was eight years old， I had just started the second year of school， and maybe I particularly wanted to do something marvellous to prove myself. But instead I did something horrendous. At that time the higher-ups called for the people to "eradicate the four pests" . The school required every student to hand in three rats' tails every week. It was no problem for a family in Wuliang to come up with three rats' tails. But for an orphan like me， surviving on charity from the whole village， it was a big problem. To complete the glorious task of handing in three rats' tails， I dug up countless rats' nests. That day， trying to go over my quota， I stole a little can of kerosene from the production brigade. Then， egged on by some older children， I dipped a rat I had caught in the can， and tied its legs up with string. Then I lit a match and placed it in front of a newly discovered rats' nest， hoping to drive out the whole nest. That was the plan， anyway.
Of course， the explosive rat "slipped" out of my hand and into one of the holes of the nest. But the first rat that came out of the hole at the other end was the same explosive rat！ It leapt out of the hole with six others following， but they all fled without my catching one of them. And not only did I not catch them， but the explosive rat， squeaking madly， leapt up onto a straw bale， scampered over three bales and then jumped up into the drying house. Before long， the threshing ground was billowing with smoke.
It was a catastrophic day. By the time all the village had rushed over， it was already an inferno. The three straw bales had become three of the proverbial "Mountain of Flames" . There was no way to fight it. Even more terrifying， the three drying houses caught fire one by one. Not far to the south was the cattle-shed， and behind that was the storeroom， which was the village granary … Oh my God！
A northwest wind was blowing that day. The wind sped the onslaught of the fire， and it seemed like the cattle-shed would go up in flames. The whole village was scared witless.
"Heavens， how can we stop it？" someone said.
"We're finished， we're finished！" wailed another， "A scourge！ The village is finished！"
Then Liang Wufang stood up. The young man Wufang， the cleverest in the village， came up with a brilliant idea. "We can't fight the fire，" he said loudly， "Grandpa Jiu， Uncle San， leave everything else—just pull down the southernmost drying house， fast as you can. We'll cut the fire off there， and save the cattle-shed and the granary."
So everybody worked together to pull down the southernmost drying house.
That night， after the threshing ground had covered its surroundings with smoke and then disintegrated into a heap of black ashes， everyone finally turned their mind to the culprit. The bigger children banded together and brought me out， saying， "It was him， Diu！ Diu did it！" So I was carried out before the crowd. I was petrified！
Then I was hung up on a tree next to the threshing ground …
On that night， I suddenly discovered that looks can kill. Hatred was spreading through the flying ashes， and quickly pervaded the whole threshing ground. It was packed with people， men and women， young and old， and all of them had black and green flames in their eyes. It was like a pack of silent wolves！ No， they were more dreadful than wolves.
