Five Spice Street

‘‘The special feelings that I have for this worthy lady are well known. All of you can see that for yourselves, so I won’t go into detail. What I want to tell you about is my own spiritual life. Broadly speaking, this worthy lady directly triggered a succession of flowery, colorful actions by me: this proved I had had a great life. Previously, before the worthy lady moved to Five Spice Street, I hadn’t had a spiritual life of my own. I was muddle-headed and ignorant, every day blindly following the crowd, eating like a horse, and sleeping like the dead-not even dreaming-and all unaware, I reached the age of twenty-two. I had been like this until one foggy morning when I ran into the incomparable worthy lady next to the well (I’m not using her name, because I know all too well that I’m not good enough to call her by name). She gave me a sweet, engaging smile. After that, I had a toothache for two weeks, and it was only after I had to have three teeth pulled that my beard started suddenly growing. And so it was that I became a real man.

‘‘That day, my life underwent an earthshaking change. To celebrate my new life, and also to remind myself to be alert, I deliberately asked the dentist to pull all of my molars; I didn’t want false teeth. And so, I have to eat in a special way and expend a lot more energy. Thus, I also realized even more completely how different I am from everyone else. Before I met the worthy lady, I was totally carefree. I wolfed my food down without any self-control, I was a philanderer, I talked at the public toilet in glib generalities, I was full of dirty words. My buddies and I flirted with all the women-young or old-whom we met on the street. We teased and joked and acted narcissistic, wearing so much cologne that we felt intoxicated. We did not know the difference between real love and our regular indulgences such as wearing cologne, flirting, and talking about women at the public toilet. We got excited talking about women and played around like this all year long, our heads crammed with absurdities.

‘‘What on earth is the worthy lady all about? No way can I explain this to you. I remember that after encountering her next to the well,

I dreamed that night for the first time in my life. I dreamed of a porcupine that had plunged into a deep pond. The sequoias at the side of the pond toppled one after another. This dream was filled with threats. When I woke up the next morning, my mother asked me, ‘Son, where’s the other half of your face?’ I felt my face and started howling. Then, with dazed eyes, I got out of bed and saw that bees were swarming all over the furniture. I shouted to Mother, ‘Reality is so absurd!’ Mother’s hands were trembling, and she dropped a plate, which shattered. You mustn’t pay much attention to Old Woman Jin: she doesn’t represent anything; she’s just one of my small props. In the midst of bitter, unrequited love, and because I was feeling so much ardor, I had to find a stand-in. Anyone would do. I probably chose her because she was the first woman I ever had, or maybe because she appreciated amorous feelings and was willing to get it on with me. But she had never appeared in any of my fantasies. I always saw the worthy lady every day at a certain place, but she certainly never saw me: I always hid. As soon as I left her, all sorts of fluids started seething in my body. I sprang to my feet like a frenzied lion and charged into Old Woman Jin’s home, and as if drunk and crazy, I made it with her until my inner fire was extinguished.

‘‘Ever since the worthy lady vanquished me, I haven’t had the nerve to face her. Only when she’s unaware of my presence can I admire her from a distance and then thoroughly bring into play my feelings of love and my limitless imagination. If I see her, even if I just see her back or hear her voice, my legs go weak and I can’t say anything coherent. It’s frightening. Luckily, she doesn’t pay any attention to me: she’s ruled by a crazy microscope. Her voice is only dimly discernible, her eyes have lost their sight, and she has no patience for people disturbing her. She always wishes they would soon vanish. Her disposition makes me respect and adore her all the more, and my feelings for her become all the more constant. When I lie in the dark, I sigh: if I hadn’t met this worthy lady, if there hadn’t been the misty fog and frost on the edge of the well, if she hadn’t smiled, what would my life be like now? How long would that infantile behavior, neither male nor female (splashing cologne on myself, talking about women at the toilet, and so forth), have continued? When I was twenty-two, my destiny led me to a luminous turning point: a lady led me forward. No matter what twists and turns appear in life, and no matter how others censure the lady’s character, my selfless love will remain the same.