92 Bowery St New York, NY 10013



In such a room, the usual center of gravity has been misplaced, and such a small matter as pouring wine into the cup has become a problem. Inman did not pour the wine into the cup at all for the first time and spilled it on his feet. He carefully found the correct position and angle, successfully filled the cup and took a sip, and then put it back on the dining table. Only then did he notice that the desktop was covered with birch branches and sawed into a horizontal bar to prevent the cup from slipping to the ground.

While sipping wine, Weixi paced back and forth on the slope of the house. He suddenly had an idea.
We can put a lever at the lower end, and we can level the house soon, he said.
Recently, lever seems to have become the core of his thoughts. He seems to have discovered a machine problem that can solve all troubles. If you put a lever on it, you can correct it.
I think it should be no problem to pry up the house, junior said, but we have been familiar with it for too long. It would be awkward to live in a place with no slope.
They drank for a while, and Inman soon felt that the wine was stronger. From yesterday, talking was better than dinner, and now he has eaten some pods to satisfy his hunger. The wine in Weixi’s belly is even more violent. He sat there with his neck stiff and looked at the glass.
Soon a teenage girl came in from the front door. She was thin, her shoulders and ankles were slender, her skin was bright cream and her temples hung down to her shoulders. Inman had rarely seen such a beautiful child.
Is your mother at home? junior asked.
After the girl said
Where is she?
It’s in the back of the house. It was just there.
Vichy raised her eyes from her glass and looked at the little girl carefully. He said to junior, hey, white children are darker than her skin. I’ve seen them before. How much black blood do you think she is, one or less?
It doesn’t make any difference whether it’s a one or a quarter. I can see if she’s a nigger, Junior said.
Vichy suddenly got up and hobbled to the bed and fell asleep.
What’s your name? Inman asked the little girl
Lula said.
No, it’s not. junior turned to stare at the child and said, What’s your name?
Mom said it was Lula, and the girl said
That’s not what your mother can think of as a prostitute’s cheap name. It’s up to me. Your name is Zhenzhen.
I think both names are good, Inman said
No, junior said my name was much higher because it reminded people that her mother was a slut.
He drank the residual wine in his toast and said, "Come with me, regardless of whether Inman will follow." He went first and sat in a rocking chair on the front porch. Inman went to the courtyard and looked up at it. It was getting late, and the moonlight was dim and the waning moon was tilted. Venus was now cool and dry in the eastern sky. Inman took a deep breath. The smell reminded him that when autumn had arrived, the wheels rolled forward again.
Leila junior shouted.
In a short time, a young woman came from behind the corner of the room and sat on the porch steps in Inman junior. She looked at Inman with her knees bent high and critical eyes. She was a woman with light yellow hair and round hips. She wore a thin cotton skirt and was washed white. She could almost see her skin color through the wax fiber of the skirt. The skirt used to be printed with rows of small flowers, but it faded badly. Now it looks more like some kind of fuzzy scrawled vertical writing.
Her body lines are all round skirts lifted and put back on the steps. Her thighs are completely exposed. Her eyes are gray like the petals of a fishing bell willow. Her hair is not combed red, and her feet are scratched by thorns. She has a strange smell of charm. Inman actually looked at her chubby feet to see if those dirty toes are true. This is to keep her awake. junior took a corn heart from his pocket and made a cigarette holder into a tobacco pipe. He also took a crumpled big bag of tobacco. He filled the tobacco pipe into a black hole and stuffed it into his mouth.
Cow scrotum, he said, how can people make bags? Compared with this kind of things, it is a test of emperor to see if we can create everything by him or avoid his rule, advocate dreams and design better things by our own brains
Then he said fire to the woman.
She got up and opened the door. She took back a piece of burning corn cob from the room and bent down to the tobacco bag to light a cigarette. Her hips were pleated against Inman’s thin skirt and squeezed into two hips. When the cracks were in other places, she clung to her skin. Inman could see that the muscles on both sides of her hips were tense and formed depressions. The scenery at the bottom of the two small pits at the hip joint of the square spine was strange and unfamiliar to Inman, but she didn’t feel very hateful.
At this moment, the girl suddenly shuddered and screamed, and the eagle claw frightened the hare Inman to see junior again and pointed the pliers away from her chest.
Junior, fuck you, she said.
Junier smokes. Lila sits back on the steps and presses her arm tightly against her chest. After a while, she takes her arm and sees a little black blood seeping through the front of her dress.


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