6. My Cousin Xiao Qiai
≪ 5. Remembering Three of my Cousins | Table of Contents | 7. Remembering my Cousin Qiling — The Miss Lin that Fell from the Sky ≫My aunt married into the Xiao family and bore six children: four boys and two girls. Their ages were quite spread out, and among them, the closest to me in age were my older male cousin Qidi Chinese: 启弟 and my older female cousin Qiai Chinese: 启爱 . They played with us frequently when we were little, so I’m much closer to these two than the other cousins. Qiai has even come to our home in Hengyang and lived with us for a few months, and there was a short period where we were very friendly towards each other.
In the summer of 1947, I caught tuberculosis and had to leave school, ultimately returning to our home on 50 Zhuling Road
Chinese: 朱陵路, pinyin: zhū líng lù, literally “Red Mountain Road”.
to recover. At that time, there were four people living there: my stepmother, my brother, the maid Tansao
Chinese: 谭嫂. This could be her name, but it could also mean “sister-in-law who is wed to Tan”. It is hard to say which.
, and I. My brother got accepted at the Xiangya Medical School
Chinese: 湘雅医学院
Pinyin: xiāng yǎ yī xué yuàn
, and after that, he spent the majority of his time living on campus. My stepmother taught elementary school, and besides the winter and summer breaks, she spent most of the day at school. Thus, the maid had a relatively light workload back at home. However, when the school year started, Tansao developed rheumatism in her legs and waist, and her responsibility to deliver lunch to my stepmom became a real difficulty.
At the same time, Qiai developed a condition in her eyes, and she came to Hengyang Renji Hospital Chinese: 衡阳仁济医院, pinyin: héng yáng rén jì yī yuàn; a large hospital in Hengyang city. for treatment. After getting diagnosed, the doctor recommended frequent hospital visits for checkups and treatment. As such, my stepmom suggested that Qiai live with us for a while. On one hand, she would be close to the hospital; on the other, she could assist Tansao in bringing my stepmom lunch on the weekdays. My aunt’s family was struggling financially, so naturally we were covering all of Qiai’s food expenses, and we even covered her medical bills. This arrangement was mutually beneficial, and Qiai agreed to it very quickly.
After a week or two, both my stepmom and Tansao noticed that Qiai was a very mature child. Despite being so young, she was very diligent with delivering lunch, and my stepmom was very satisfied. But besides just delivering lunch, she would help Tansao with housekeeping, thereby reducing her burden. Tansao now had the time to see Chinese doctors and brew Chinese medicine for her rheumatism, and she too was very satisfied. In addition, Qiai herself could get her eyes treated at the city hospital, she of course was satisfied as well.
That year, following patriarchal traditions, my grandparents split their inheritance and estate for their sons only, leaving nothing for my aunt. My aunt had many children, so compared to my cousins, my brother and I were very well-off. We therefore saw it as an obligation to help Qiai with her medical predicament.
Near the end of fall, my stepmom even gifted Qiai two new sets of clothes. My stepmom said that her coworkers all knew that her niece delivered lunch every day, and they couldn’t accept the ragged clothes she wore.
Qiai didn’t read much, and she was only at the elementary school level anyways. After school started, my brother went to study at Changsha
Chinese: 长沙
’s Xiangya Medical School, and my stepmom was teaching at Gangzhi Elementary School
Chinese: 刚直小学
Pinyin: gāng zhí xiǎo xué
, so there wasn’t much to do at home. Either way, I was supposed to tutor Qiai in cultural classes
Chinese: 文化课, pinyin: wén huà kè. We don’t have an analogue in American schools, but a closest approximation would be our “English classes”. I suspect these classes encompass literature, music, and history.
. However, two things held us back: first, due to her visual ailment, she couldn’t strain her eyes; second, we didn’t know how long she would stay. Thus, the best we could do was periodiaclly let her read the Three Character Classic
Chinese: 《三字经》, pinyin: sān zì jīng, literally the “three character sutra”. These are Confucian teachings presented in three-character couplets, which made them popular as pedagogical tools.
or the Zeng Guang Xian Texts
Chinese: 《增广贤文》, pinyin: zēng guǎng xián wén. This was a text written during the Min dynasty containing many Confucian teachings.
; besides that, I just taught her skills like using an abacus.
Renji Hospital was actually a Christian hospital, and every morning, there would be someone preaching to the outpatients and distributing free pamphlets. I once took the opportunity to discuss religion with Qiai, and I explained that “God” and “Jesus” were both foreign Buddhas, and that although the Bible and Buddhist sutras had contadictory contents, both were fundamentally guides to being a good person.
After three or four months, Qiai’s eyes had fully recovered, and Tansao’s rheumatism had pretty much fully recovered as well. At the end of the semester, Qiai returned to the countryside. Everyone was in good spirits during her departure, though we all felt a little reluctant to let her go.
In 1948, I went to the Changsha Pulmonary Specialised Hospital
Chinese: 长沙肺病疗养院
Pinyin: cháng shā fèi bìng liáo yǎng yuàn.
for treatment; in 1949, Hengyang was liberated; in 1950, I traveled to the northeast to study, where over 30 years passed in a flash. It wasn’t until 1985 that I visited the Banqiao countryside by Hengyang, where I saw the Liu and Xiao family and friends.
Below is a photo of me, Qiai, and Qidi’s family. Qiai’s family was rather far, so she traveled to Banqiao alone. Qidi has recently contracted a serious illness and since passed away; the photo includes his partner He Bingshun Chinese: 贺炳顺 and their descendants.
Pictured in the front row and second from the left is Qiai; the rightmost person in the middle row is Qidi’s wife, and she’s holding her grandson; the one on the very left in the front row is Xuemei Chinese: 雪梅 .
I’d like to particularly make note of Xuemei: she’s Qidi’s and his wife’s granddaughter. In 1992, my brother returned to Hengyang to visit the Xiao family. He realised that they were having trouble getting by, and he decided it would be good to bring Xuemei back to Chengdu, and he was prepared to have her go to school there. Xuemei was naturally brimming with excitement and anticipation; they planned to fly to Chengdu, and Xuemei would have been the first of her family to ride an airplane.
Unfortunately, against everyone’s wishes, there were bureaucratic barriers It’s unclear specifically what these barriers were, and the original text says that they were lacking an account (Chinese: 户口, pinyin: hù kǒu). Perhaps this is something akin to a birth certificate or a similar type of registration or identification; I know these sorts of barriers make it difficult for people residing in the countryside to move to the city even today. that prevented enrolment. In addition, she was only 12 at the time; she couldn’t help my sister-in-law with housekeeping, so she would only add to the burdens their household had. My brother was particularly busy at work too, making it even harder to look after her and support her in school. Thus, she ended up coming back to Chongqing with me a few months later instead, and we waited until my next opportunity to travel to Hunan to bring her home; I brought her back to Hengyang in the spring of 1993.
2006. My brother took Yucheng and Yunze to Hunan to visit family and friends, and this time, Xuemei was had already grown up (pictured to the right). In 2015, Xuemei called my brother and I for a life update, where we learned that she had found work in Shanghai with her husband and that they already had become parents.
In 2017, Qiai’s grandson told me that it was his grandmother’s 90th birthday that year and that I was welcome to come celebrate in Hengyang. He also said that both he and his father were working abroad and that they had earned a modest lifestyle, free from worrying of clothing and sustenance.
From the bottom of my heart, I wish Qiai and her family nothing but the best!