Pristine Darkness

Chapter 23

Now, a look at Yao Yuange's back story. I appreciate that Ding Mo gives us these stories to help us understand the characters better. I have to say, though, that reading this one sickened me more than usual. Is there any redeeming quality to Yao Yuange at all? Or was that the point - that, for some people, there is no possibility of redemption? Read on to find out . . .

(NOTE - there is no graphic content, but the fact that Yao Yuange was a sexual predator is made clear)

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Translator: Lid_d, shl

Editor/ Proofreader: SantaCalculus

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姚远戈番外《死魂灵》

Yao Yuange's story - Dead Soul 

The steam on the hearth rose slowly, causing one to feel a little dizzy. Yao Yuange squatted in a corner of the kitchen, all the while swallowing his saliva, waiting for the freshly steamed big buns to be ready. He didn't expect that the hunger in his eyes would be noticed by his father, thus attracting a wave of loathing.

Father kicked him on the back, as if kicking a dog, "Dammit, everytime I see you I feel vexed. Why are you always hungry?"

Yao Yuange sat in a corner in silence. He was only seven or eight years old, but was naturally taller than the others kids, so he ate more. And steamed buns actually only cost ten cents, but his father was just too reluctant to give him more to eat.

So he was always starving.

When children get hungry, they can be very scary. They want to destroy everything they come across. Those crisp black eyes were always staring at the rest of the world from the corner with hatred.

But Mr Yao did not care. He had three sons and two daughters, and this son was the youngest. His life was so tiring and so busy he didn't even know how they could have had this child. Might as well be some kid they had randomly picked up from the street. He had to work to the point of exhaustion to make a living, and had no time to spend considering what this little boy might be thinking or feeling.

Every morning at 3 a.m., he kneads the dough and steams the buns. At 5 a.m., the little shop opens, and business starts. He sells buns all the way till 3 p.m. or 4 p.m., when the busyness of the day is finally at an end. The sons and daughters were all disappointing, unable to get into university, thus taking temp job after temp job, or idling about. So it was that Mr Yao's life was full of resentment towards everybody and everything.

It was a good thing that going to elementary and middle school in a small town was so cheap. Mr Yao also happily sent Yao Yuange to school, giving him fifty cents a day to spend. Making do with fifty cents when a day's food itself cost one dollar became the young boy's most pressing concern, since Mr Yao was not about to trouble himself with the matter.

Everyday, after school was dismissed, Yao Yuange was almost always hanging around in the shop as he had nowhere else to go. By nature, he seemed to be quiet and gloomy; there had been no one to care for him at home from the time he was a baby. He would just stare dazedly at his father working hard, bare from the waist up.

When it became dark, the family would eat their simple dinner, then go to sleep. Father loved to sit on the bed and count money; he would set the banknotes, big and small, in piles and count them one by one. After that, with his finger dipped in saliva, he would count again. Every time this happened, the children were not allowed to enter and disturb him, and could only play in the main room. However, Yao Yuange always hid behind the door curtain to watch him, looking at the colour of the money that he had never put his hands on, at Mr Yao's intoxicated yet hate-filled expression - hating that there was not enough money, hating that people lived too long.