Translator: Aristophaneso
The robed figure didn’t seem to be worried at all, and they casually waved their hand and let her go. Zhiwei hid the notebook in the fold of her clothes and turned to leave.
In that moment, she had felt that something was different, but after a moment of stillness, could find nothing wrong with her body, and so she chuckled to herself and pushed through the door.
Feng Zhiwei exclaimed in surprise and realized that she had lost track of time as she had read. The sun had already sank to the west, and it was dusk.
Feng Zhiwei ran down a short cut and rushed back. She was familiar with many of the alleys, and this road led to the Lan Xiang Yard back door.
The path was quiet and Feng Zhiwei could hear her footsteps against the bluestone road.
In that empty silence, she could hear the distant hum of conversation.
“Mom, give me a silver tael.”
Feng Zhiwei’s heart trembled – it was Feng Hao.
She moved to the corner of the wall1 and looked out onto the street, hiding and holding her breath. Feng Hao was walking with mother, and was begging Madam Feng. “One silver tael, so I can buy silk undergarments.”
“I can’t wear those coarse clothes to play Fly Ball. They stick to my body and smell funny.” Feng Hao said cheerfully. “They all said that if I can’t change into something more proper, they won’t let me play.”
Fly Ball was a game passed down from the Da Cheng Dynasty. It was supposedly invented by the Shen Ying Empress, and at the time had been a game that anyone could play. Now, it was a luxury reserved for the aristocracy, and one ball costed a hundred gold. With Feng Hao’s status, how could he be allow to play this game? And whom was he playing with?
Feng Zhiwei’s eyes fell on the her mother and brother’s clasped hands, and a sour feeling entered her heart. She stopped thinking about the game.
She leaned against the corner of the wall, alone, and bit her lips as she listened to her mother’s words. She was speaking in a quiet, concerned voice, “People like us shouldn’t mingle with those Gong Zi…” but Feng Hao laughed. “They promised me. They’re going to recommend me to Qing Ming Academy. Didn’t you tell me that Qing Ming Academy is the best academy in the world…”
The fading light drew long shadows on the ground, and her brother’s faded as one with her mother’s. As for hers, it dragged a long and thin line across the ground, like parallel lines, never touching.
Feng Zhiwei hugged her arms; the coldness that had hit her that night when she had been kicked out of Qiu Mansion attacked her again, and in the dusk of Early Spring, she shivered in a nameless alleyway.
She watched her mother rub Feng Hao’s head lovingly, and he won out in the end. Her mother moved carefully, taking out a tael of silver and handing it to Feng Hao. She watched as her brother sent her mother off and then looked around sneakily, smirking.
Mother only had a tael of silver each month, but if Feng Hao really used it to buy some clothes it would still be fine. Zhiwei was just afraid that this money would end up lining the sachets of some girl from Lan Xiang Yard.
The money her mother saved, scrimping on food and expenses for an entire month, given to some prostitutes for Sugar Melon seeds that they cared nothing for, eating half and throwing away the other half.
Her smile was ugly and bitter.
Feng Zhiwei turned away, trying to shake these thoughts from her mind, leaning against the corner of the wall and broke off part of a Sugar Lotus stuffed with Sticky Rice to eat. She didn’t want to watch her brother waltz into the yard.
After she had eaten half of the lotus root, her eyes noticed something almost unconsciously, and Feng Zhiwei paused, startled.
Why were there footprints on the back wall?
Feng Zhiwei looked up and examined the wall. A huge tree with dense branches and leaves leaned against the top of the well hidden section of wall, and from the footprints, it was clear that someone had climbed onto this tree and jumped into Lan Xiang Yard.
Hiring prostitutes secretly? Or a girl spending time with her poor lover?
Just as she was guessing at possibilities, the leaves above her rustled. Through the green leaves peeped out thin shoes and a butt in moon white trousers. The figure stopped and sat on a branch, in no hurry to get down as if relaxing and appreciating the view from the vantage point.
Feng Zhiwei leaned around the trunk of the tree with some curiousity, peering over to try and get an angle on the butt’s face.
The butt swayed against the tree, and the man spoke mournfully and with great feeling, “Ju Hua1 , our love is the timeless blue of heaven, and like two webs interspun, our hearts are woven together with a thousand knots….. you must take care of yourself, you must cherish yourself, you must…. not lose weight missing me too much….”
Feng Zhiwei held her stomach; she hadn’t eaten that much sticky rice, but why did she want so badly to vomit….
And it was seemingly not only Zhiwei who felt this way, and the branches and leaves rustled as if someone inside the walls had given him a push. The man exclaimed and his butt quivered without stop as he began reciting even more mournfully, “That year we strolled together down the city road, but now I see only the clouds and rain of my soul. In grief I wasted, dusk by numbered dusk… Ju Hua, your heart is vicious…..” (1)
The man was reciting an endless stream of love poems, both modern and ancient, and even interspersed some original works. He recited beautiful and beautiful lines rolled from his tongue. His mind was fast and clear, and his words the unfolding of a beautiful lotus flower. Feng Zhiwei sighed – his talent was rare, but he used it on a third-grade prostitute. He was really not afraid of retribution for this crime to his gift.
As he was reciting, a great uproar came from both the front and back doors of Lan Xiang Yard. Feng Zhiwei could hear in the distance the yells of men and the cries of women as they claymores loudly : “Grab that shameless man who should be killed with a thousand blades!”
“Ai yo!”
The man stopped his happy recitation and exclaimed loudly, jumping to his feet. In his hurry, he forgot that he was on his tree. He scrambled for balance as his body fell to the side, and in a great crash of ripping clothes and flesh against wood, Feng Zhiwei watched as that moon white butt grew larger as it fell towards her. In a loud “peng!” The man fell in the dust in front of her.
Feng Zhiwei looked down and examined the charming face of the middle aged man.
The man fell heavily, but he immediately scrambled up onto his hands and knees. He spun his head, looking around in a panic as the sound of people beating against the back door filled the air. From the distance, the pair could hear someone yell, “Somebody check back there!”
Feng Zhiwei knew that this wasn’t the best place to be, so she turned to run. People came to catch the adulterer; why should she stay with him?
But she couldn’t move, and when she looked down she saw a hand grabbing the her pants. The man in the dust lifted his pretty face and smiled ingratiatingly. “Brother, please help me!”
Feng Zhiwei smiled gently and leaned down, and the man’s face filled with hope. He reached for her hand, letting go of her pants in his excitement.
And then Feng Zhiwei turned around and ran.
The man’s half standing body fell into the dust again.
The man watched as Feng Zhiwei ran away mercilessly as the stamping feet coming from the back door echoed closer, and he shouted in a subdued voice; “You dare to leave!?”
