Morning Bull
by Pan Shaodong
About This Novel
I am almost 50 years old, my face is as wrinkled as a ginger bowl, my hair is like chopped cotton gauze, my eyelids are always covering my eyeballs like rags, and my three teeth are like vegetables that have been shoveled by a hoe, wobbling and trying to fall over. I will sleep with the King of Hell at any time any day. Even if I am missed by the father of hell, will it be interesting to live another 10 or 20 years? The government despises me, the cadres despise me, the neighbors despise me, and the relatives despise me. They sing about my complaints, read my bits and pieces, and talk about my empty words. What have I become? It has become a stinking piece of shit that everyone hates, and a rotten intestinal plague that you can avoid whenever you encounter it. I have been a disabled person since I was 36 years old. Doesn't a woman become useless without a man? Doesn't it mean that a good woman is a waste when she is paired with a useless man? As the saying goes, you are not afraid of dry weather, as long as the earth is moist. Without a man, what's the point of moistening my land? Neither sorghum nor rice can grow, nor can red flowers or green leaves grow. If the ground is moist, only weeds can grow, and if the ground is wet, only leeches can grow.
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