Xiangzi died.
He died of exhaustion on the rickshaw.
No one knew exactly when he died, maybe at midnight, maybe earlier in the first half of the night, no one could figure it out.
It was only later that it was said that someone saw him rest on the rickshaw after taking his last customer. The next morning, a fellow rickshaw puller saw that he was still sitting on the rickshaw and shook him, only to find that he couldn’t wake up.
When Xiangzi died, he was still in the posture of waiting for an order.
After Xiangzi’s death, the police announced that they had ruled out the possibility of a criminal case. In fact, needless to say, no one doubted this, and his colleagues all knew that Xiangzi had died of exhaustion.
Xiangzi was no longer the Xiangzi of his youth. Back then, Xiangzi was tall and strong, so sturdy and tough that he could even stand upside down for half a day. But time was chasing him, like chasing an ox, and he had reached the age of 50, wheezing as he walked.
However, Xiangzi was diligent and willing to work. Although his health was not as good as before, his drive had not been lost. He was not afraid of hardship and did not have the bad habits of ordinary rickshaw pullers. He believed that with his tireless feet, it would not be a dream to make a name for himself.
When he first started pulling rickshaws, Xiangzi’s ankles were swollen like two gourds after pulling for two days. After pulling for so many years, he had long since loosened his legs. His legs were long and his strides were big, and his waist was very stable. Even though he ran fast, he could stop as soon as he said it. His big feet would lightly rub the ground twice and he would stand still.
Not only that, Xiangzi had been in this area for twenty or thirty years, and he knew exactly which roads had fewer traffic lights, where there were shortcuts to take, and where it was safe to go against traffic without police. When he pulled the rickshaw, it was naturally smoother than others.
Therefore, based on this foundation, Xiangzi, who was over fifty years old, was still known as the “fast and safe” “rickshaw king” in the rickshaw trade.
He could earn about five or six hundred yuan a day, and more than seven hundred on rainy days. Xiangzi had been tempered in the scorching sun and heavy rain. Since he had been sickened by a heavy rain that year, Xiangzi seemed to be immune. He hoped that God would give him more rain so that he could earn more money.
Besides the expenses for his wife and children, Xiangzi wanted to buy a car with the money he earned from pulling rickshaws. He had seen them on the street when he was pulling rickshaws. It could carry four people at a time, didn’t require much effort, and had air conditioning. He wasn’t afraid of the wind and sun all year round. Xiangzi was envious every time he saw it.
More importantly, he would earn more if he had his own car. When renting by the month in the rickshaw business, he still had to pay a “car share”. Every penny he earned was like his own child, and he felt heartache to give it to others.
It would be different if he had his own car. Not only would he earn everything himself, but he wouldn’t be tired. Xiangzi was old, how many years could he still run? The rickshaw business didn’t pay for his insurance, and he would have to rely on the meager pension from his hometown when he got old, but what could 100 yuan a month do?
He had to plan for his future.
Therefore, Xiangzi pulled the rickshaw with extra effort. Sometimes he pulled the rickshaw until after 3 a.m., but he would get up at 6 a.m. to continue pulling. He often only slept three or four hours a day, and when he was tired, he would sleep on the rickshaw for a while.
In fact, Xiangzi was just as hardworking when it came to saving money. He didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, didn’t gamble, and had no hobbies. When he was thirsty, every well became his savior. If he couldn’t catch up with the freshly drawn well water, he would drink a big gulp with the donkeys and horses in the trough; when he was hungry, he would have a plate of fried noodles or soup noodles at a roadside stall, often choosing the cheapest one, and at most, he would add an egg.
In order to save money, when it wasn’t so cold, he would move out of the short-term rental house and sleep on the street or under a bridge. Anyway, he could sleep on the rickshaw, and every penny saved was a penny earned.
Who knew that Xiangzi would end up dying on the side of the street, where people came and went.
The deep night, a few warning lines announced Xiangzi’s death. A few colleagues passed by, glanced at him, and hurried on to continue pulling rickshaws. They didn’t have time to mourn. They had even seen rickshaw pullers who had collapsed on the ground and never got up again, and they might even become one of them. They were really too sad.
After Xiangzi’s death, he became the topic of conversation among the rickshaw pullers nearby. In their impression, Xiangzi was like a top that never stopped spinning. They only met briefly and didn’t say a few words. He was like a stranger, often seen, but they knew nothing about him.
Some people said that Xiangzi’s previous wife died in childbirth, and then he married another woman, and he had a child, but the child got sick, so he worked so hard.
Some people said that Xiangzi was about to save enough money to buy a car. If he hadn’t worked so hard, he would have saved enough sooner or later, but it was a pity.
Some people said that Xiangzi had accidentally obtained three camels in his youth, and he was known as “Camel Xiangzi”. But when Xiangzi got older and pulled rickshaws and became hunchbacked, he didn’t allow others to call him “Camel Xiangzi” anymore. People called him “Xiangzi”, “Xiangzi”, and no one knew his surname or what his name was.
Xiangzi died, and people talked about him for a few days, and then there was nothing more.
It was as if he had never existed.
—The End—
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