http://uploads.worldlibrary.net/uploads/pdf/20130423230739the_outlaws_of_the_marsh_pdf.pdf
Chapters 27 to 29: Wu Song, Constable and Tiger Killer
“Can I believe my eyes?” he thought.
“Sister−in−law,” he called, “I'm back. It's me, Wu Song.”
Ximen was frolicking with Golden Lotus upstairs. At the sound of Wu Song's voice he farted with terror and pissed in his pants. He scooted out of the back door and left via Mistress Wang's shop.
Terror farts. Sure way to defuse tension, with comedy!
Wu Song grabbed one and threw him head first into another wine vat. A second he also flung into a vat of wine with one quick move. Two more waiters he downed with a punch and a kick.
With three in the vats unable to climb out, and two on the floor unable to get up, all were farting and pissing in terror. Only one managed to get away.
That is a smelly wine shop. So that's why they say, animals can smell fear.
Wu Song broke one of the dumplings open. “What's in these?” he asked. “Human flesh, or dog's?”
The woman giggled. “You're teasing. Who ever heard of such a thing in these times of peace and clear skies? For generations our family has served nothing but dumplings of pure beef.”
“In my wanderings among the gallant fraternity I've often heard men say: 'What traveler dares stop by the big tree at Crossroads Rise? The fat ones become filling for dumplings, the thin ones fill up the stream!
“There are hairs in this dumpling that look a lot like pubic hairs. They made me suspicious,” said Wu Song.
“Why isn't your husband around, madam?
Hahahaha. Dumplings made out of human testicles. Why isn't your husband around? Is he in the dumpling?
has eyes but didn't recognize Mount Taishan.
Very oft repeated saying when somebody meets a hero in the story, mistaking him for a commoner or a scoundrel. Has eyes, but no brain!
Zhang Qing had his men remove the guards from the chopping block, and his wife concocted a brew. Pulling the guards' ears, Zhang poured the medicine down their throats. Before long, they awakened as if from a dream and crawled to their feet. They looked at Wu Song.
“How did we get so drunk? That certainly is fine wine! We didn't drink much, but we really got sozzled. We must remember this place, and stop here for some more on the way back.”
Wu Song laughed, and Zhang and his wife chuckled. The guards were mystified
Guards were about to be killed after drinking the drugged wine. They thought it was a great drink! People are willing to pay handsomely for poison, either with silver or with their lives!
“If you have a letter of introduction or any silver in your pack, good fellow,” they said, “take them out, and when the head keeper comes, give them to him. Then they'll go easy on you when they give you the Spirit−Breaking Beating. It'll be cruel if you have no present for him.
“Thank you for telling me. I happen to have a few things with me. If he asks me nicely, I'll give him some. If he acts tough, I won't give him a penny!”
“Don't talk like that,” cried the prisoners. “You know the old sayings: 'Fear not officials—except when they officiate!' and 'Neath a low−eaved roof who dares raise his head?' It's better to be careful!
Wu Song is so straightforward and upright. Yet he is a simple man. He doesn't have political savvy to understand that upon arriving in prison, he is no position to contest morals against the warden.
Compare to Lin Chong, who bribed his jailer with money from his lord and thanked his benefactor for sending him aid. Not because he was wicked, but he knew how the system worked and wanted to get past that formality.
“Prisoner, know this,” he said. “The Emperor of Military Virtue, first emperor of Song, decreed that all exiles, when they first arrive, shall be beaten a hundred blows to break their spirit. Guards, hold him prone!”
“Don't move, not one of you! If you want to beat me, go ahead! No one need hold me! If I dodge one blow, I'm no true man! You can start all over from the beginning! I'm not the courageous fellow from Yanggu County if I utter a single cry!”
The onlookers laughed. “That lunatic wants to die. We'll see how much he can take!”
“Hit hard. Merciful blows only annoy me!”
This remark provoked more laughter from the people on both sides of the room. Just then a young man standing beside the warden whispered something in the official's ear.
Not the right audience for this show of bravery and virtue, Wu Song. But a savior arrives to spare his punishment.
The warden addressed the prisoner: “Wu Song, were you ill during your journey here?”
“No, I drank wine, I ate meat and rice, and I walked without falter.”
“This scoundrel was sick on the way,” the warden announced. “I can see from his complexion that he's just recovered. We'll put the beating off for the time being.”
“Say you were ill, quick,” the beaters on either side of Wu Song whispered. “The warden is giving you a break! Say you were sick and be done with it!”
“I wasn't sick. I wasn't! Beat me. Get it over with. Let's have no delays. I don't want deferred payments that you can collect at any time!”
Again the onlookers laughed, and the warden joined them. “Not only were you ill, but you must be still running a high fever to talk so deliriously! Pay no attention to him. Guards, take him back to the single room."
The commonplace ruse to waive the beating is to say the prisoner was sick from traveling and delay the punishment for a later time, after which the beating is postponed indefinitely. Wu knows this, but stubbornly refuses to accept his jailer's mercy! Haha.
The warden has to go through all this fabrication to spare Wu Song, who refuses to be spared under false pretense at every step of the way! Haha.
In the end though, the warden can bend the interpretation any way he wants to. The hilarious ridiculousness of the criminal begging to be punished in favor of abiding the rules, and the warden reversing his position, deciding not to beat him because his lord showed favoritism .... goes to show that there is no justice here. It is a totally corrupt system!
"Postponing the beating is not a good sign. Tonight, they'll certainly finish you off!”
“How?”
“In the evening they'll bring you two bowls of dry brown rice. When you're full, they'll take you to an earthen dungeon, tie you, roll you up in a straw mat, stuff your seven openings, and put you, head down, against the wall. In less than half a watch you'll be dead. That's called the 'upside down bowl' method.”
“Is that their only way?”
“Another is also to tie you up, then put a huge sack of sand on you. You're finished in less than a watch. That's called the 'sack of earth' method.”
“'What else do they do?” “Those two are the most frightful. The others aren't so bad.”
For those of us counting, here are the seven openings they might be referring to.
male: 2 ears, 2 nostrils, 1 mouth, 1 anus, 1 urethra = 7
female: 2 ears, 2 nostrils, 1 mouth, 1 anus, 1 urethra, 1 vagina = 8
It seems to me that stuffing three openings in the head, perhaps even five, would be sufficient. Don't know what the other two are stuffed for - the guards' pleasure or amusement?
And the names lol. So practical and nondescript. "Sack of Earth" method. Sounds completely harmless. Here's a sack. Here's some sand. What's so frightful about that?
“Please be seated, brother,” said Shi En, “and I'll tell you my story in detail.”
“Don't pussyfoot around. Just give me the main points,” said Wu Song
Haha. Wu is really brash. He demands his benefactor, the lord's son, meet him in person against all protests. Then when he meets him, Wu doesn't politely refuse a seat... just orders the boy to hurry up and tell his story. Ha haha.
And as an aside, the word 'brash' is like the child of 'brave' and 'rash'. Sometimes I get that way when I'm hangry.
“What do I need a horse for? I don't have small feet. There's only one thing I must ask.”
“Speak freely, brother. Is there anything I'd refuse you?”
“After we leave the town, let's operate on the principle of 'Don't pass one without having three.'”
“What do you mean by mat? I don't understand.” Wu Song laughed. “If you want me to beat up Jiang the Gate Guard Giant, you've got to invite me to three bowls of wine at every tavern we pass.”
“It's fourteen or fifteen li from the East Gate of the town to Happy Grove,” Shi En thought, “and there must be a dozen taverns on the way. If he has three bowls in each, that means thirty−six bowls before he gets there. He'll be drunk. That will never do.”
Again Wu Song laughed. “You're afraid I won't be able to fight? Actually, I'm no good without wine. The more I drink, the better I am. It's only when I'm really drunk that I have my full strength. If drink hadn't given me courage on Jingyang Ridge would I have been able to beat that huge tiger? I need to be soused before I go into action. Then I've strength and spirit, both."
Again, as often in the story, heroes claim to be at their fighting best after drinking an absurd amount of alcohol. Rolls eyes. Macho bullshit, lol, but entertaining.
Old skool bar crawl: The principle of 'Don't pass one without having three.'
The large tavern: Riverside View. Attached to a rail, painted bright green, before the door were two gold−spangled banners reading respectively:
In drunkenness the universe is large and
In the wine pot the days are long.
What are these banners actually saying?
In drunkenness the universe is large: The world of drinking encompasses everything and the people all participate?
In the wine pot the days are long: The amount of drinking necessary for conducting business, meetings takes a heavy toll on the body?
This 2005 PhD dissertation at Cornell explains these cultural drinking practices in the context of modern Taiwan. https://ecommons.cornell.edu/bitstream/handle/1813/2112/Diss-MainText.pdf?sequence=1
He talks about 'hostess clubs', places where young beautiful women accompany men in drinking, and often sell sex or let the men spend money in hopes of charming a hostess into sex.
In the wine pot the days are long. :
"No matter how skilled a hand a hostess might be, her ability—or luck--is never enough to overcome the fact that she works between six and ten hours each day, often beginning in the early afternoon, pounding shots of beer, sake, or whiskey from the first hour to the last."
"Too be sure, some men, especially those who visit teahouses, are very serious about drinking, and hostesses are invariably unable to avoid regularly drinking themselves into acute stages of inebriation. I have watched hostesses literally stagger between rooms, bouncing from wall to wall. I have also witnessed intoxicated hostesses break down and cry, fly into a rage, and even fall flat on the floor and pass out."
"I do not recall there being clocks inside the private rooms of hostess clubs, so if they were there at all there was no need to look at them. Neither do I recollect keeping track of time by checking my wristwatch. Time is reckoned in hostess clubs by sensations and procedures that mark the stages of a flower-wine adventure"
In drunkenness the universe is large
"These prevailing popular and scholarly representations view flower-wine drinking, at base, as a “social engagement” (yingchou), as an instrumentally motivated outing in which men convert heterosexual play into homosocial bonding for some calculated purpose of economic or sociopolitical gain, be it among gang members or business associates."
Everybody does it. If you don't, your guy buddies will think you less of a man. And you have to be a man to do business.
"when I queried my friends’ wives about why their husband’s visited hostess clubs, they unanimously invoked the alternating fullness and emptiness of the alibi: “Yingchou. It’s a necessity. Men can’t avoid it and expect to get anywhere in life."
"This interpretation of hostess clubs is misleading because it is only partially accurate. First of all, men much prefer to, and most often do, carouse with friends who are not business associates.
... upon hearing a summary of my (alternative) analysis of flower-wine drinking, one friend mused for a moment and then commented that my analysis was interesting and seemed on target but neglected the importance of “doing business.” When I “reminded” my friend of that which his invocation of the alibi had allowed him to forget, to wit, that for over two years I had accompanied him, other friends, and occasionally associates on most of their hostess club outings and that never once were we “doing business,” he bridled and responded, “That’s true.”"
Even if they don't believe their stated reasons, or approve of the culture, they believe drinking is necessary to make it in the world and make something of themselves.
Haha this was funny. I had to stop and count the 7 openings.
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