Chapter 7: Chang'e must regret stealing the elixir of life (III)
Translator's note: curious about why I'm working on the earlier chapters? You can find an explanation in the translator's note on the ninth chapter.
Arriving at Tianjin, the sky was already coloured with dusk, and Tu Laoyao woke from his doze, following along after Li Shiyi to get off the train with drowsy eyes, a suitcase in each hand. Outside the train station, someone sent by Master Wu was already waiting, wearing a smart tunic and standing by a rickshaw like a pine tree, and, seeing A Yin, called in a rather ostentatious tone, “A Yin-xiaojie,”[1] bowing as he opened the rickshaw door.
A Yin didn’t stand on courtesy, getting into the passenger seat with ease, leaving the back row of seats for Li Shiyi and Tu Laoyao.
At the front, A Yin fished out a mirror to fix her makeup, and Song Shijiu was slightly carsick, gently turning in towards Li Shiyi’s embrace, and Li Shiyi softly patted her back, slightly distracted herself; only two or three days had passed, and yet she was already familiar and entirely experienced with Song Shijiu.
Looking back, Tu Laoyao was sitting stiffly upright, his hands both placed on his knees, even his breath much more level, and, glimpsing Li Shiyi looking at him, he inclined his body, approaching her ear to whisper, “Be calm, I won’t do anything to make you lose face.”
Li Shiyi laughed quietly, her windpipe carrying the slight vibrations in her chest, which shook Song Shijiu in a way that was entirely comfortable, and she pressed her ear to it, cheek rubbing against it once and then again.
After a short time, the car stopped in front of the Wu mansion, which was built in the traditional style, portioned into multiple sections, set around a square courtyard,[2] with dark bricks and white tiles, set in the middle of the sea of foreign-style houses, appearing somewhat garish. A Yin gathered up her overcoat and stepped out of the car, beaming radiantly as she was welcomed in, the party passing through the courtyard until they arrived at the central building, and A Yin, knowing the rules, thanked the old woman who had led the way, and then immediately raised her head, a ya of surprise passing her lips as she covered her mouth, and said, “Master Wu, how could you have lost so much weight?”
The man referred to as Master Wu appeared to be over forty years old, hair half twisted into a braid, his cheeks sunken in and faintly darkened, his eyes bulging outwards, either side wrinkled and sallow, like muddied furrows. Tu Laoyao sat down next to A Yin, appraising
Master Wu’s bowed head as he coughed, and secretly sent a derisive glance at A Yin, his lips turned down as if disdaining that she had a customer as old as this. Was this a peach or a plum?
A Yin glared back at him, and with a cold sneer, and only once he no longer looked at her, said in a low voice, “A few months ago, he was incredibly attractive.” She finished speaking through gritted teeth, and turned her head, expression turning into one of pity, and with extreme concern, exchanged further words with Master Wu.
One by one, Master Wu called out greetings, and also asked the steward to explain attentively once again, who explained that the most important thing was the silk painting, an antique which had cost a lot of money, which Concubine Zhao, while alive, had liked very much, which had spent its days hung up in the bedroom, and once she had died, the painting had disappeared without a trace, and thinking on it, it could only have accidentally been interred with the coffin.
Once she finished listening, Li Shiyi thought for a moment, then nodded her head and said, “Then we’ll go into the tomb.”
“Madam-xiansheng must be weary from travel, there’s no harm in resting for a day first.” There were old customs in the business of fortune-telling and grave-robbing, those who communicated with the heavens and the earth, the divine and the ghostly, and they needed to be given respect with the title of “xiansheng”.
“No need.” Li Shiyi shook her head, her gaze lowering to sweep across Song Shijiu in her embrace, calculating whether she, who was dizzy, needed to be left in the residence, before suddenly feeling her neck being tightened, the white lotus-like arms wrapping around her, Song Shijiu rubbing against her ear, saying in a soft, trembling voice, “I don’t want to.”
For the first time experiencing someone as openly and without fear acting like a spoilt child in front of her, Li Shiyi’s insides were soft as glutinous rice, though her expression didn’t show it, and she raised her heavy eyelids and said to the steward, “Please lead the way.”
Concubine Zhao’s tomb was on the west side of town, on a mountain range overlooking a lake, the shape of a coming dragon, which was auspicious.[3] The steward didn’t dare come any closer, just attentively explaining things in a few words, then gave A Yin and the party each a few pieces of silver, which were meant to represent the good luck of “seeing a coffin and getting rich”, and only then followed their departing forms with his gaze as they entered the tomb.
The tomb was recently built, three stone steps and bricks in the main room of the tomb, and the stone stele that had stood upright ahead had already been moved, the two inner doors opened, and from beneath the ground seeped a cool breeze. Tu Laoyao lifted the torch and walked downwards, and suddenly laughed loudly and irreverently.
A Yin raised her gaze to look at him, and heard him chuckle cheerfully, “In the past we always dug a hole like a rat, but this time we came through the main entrance.” Li Shiyi’s steps paused, and A Yin shot rolled her eyes.
They had only descended the flight of stairs when A Yin suddenly felt that something wasn’t right; the interior was new, yet the smell of blood was thick, the rank, muddled odour making one feel nauseous, and Li Shiyi looked down at the ground, finding a few streaks of blood, as if smeared paint, the dark vermillion in the serene, hidden place chilling. A Yin breathed heavily, and said, “Yes, this is exactly the the strange thing I told you about yesterday; I think the housekeeper dragged the bodies of those who had come before out, but didn’t dare go any deeper.”
Li Shiyi nodded, pursing her lips and muttering the herself as she walked inwards, her left hand unconsciously supporting Shijiu’s fragile neck. At the foot of the wall were scattered discarded blades, as well as torches that had burnt down, both sides of the bricks dark, as if someone had burnt them with fire. This tomb was recently built, its interior not even having weeds or accumulated water, and Li Shiyi turned a circle about the room and looked all over before stopping, pausing and fixing her gaze on a dark corner ahead.
“What’s this?” Tu Laoyao had experienced Li Shiyi’s skill before, and was no longer as timid, taking two or three steps to the front, and pointed at the swaying, blooming small yellow flowers. The flowers were bunched together, crowded haphazardly in the corner of the tomb, where there clearly was no soil, and yet they grew robustly, as if having been expelled from the brick. The plant’s leaves were also strange, plump as lingzhi mushrooms, yet also having the colour and arteries of green leaves, blooming in layers, the fragmented yellow flowers gathered together in the centre, exactly the same as crisscrossing footpaths between fields, the appearance entirely unremarkable, and yet in this windless, rainless tomb, they grew vigorously.
Li Shiyi gazed at the flowers, spellbound, her slightly raised eyelids falling, plump lower eyelids rising, her thoughtful expression shuttering, until, in her embrace, Shijiu calmly moved a bit, and she frowned, brows knitting, and then quickly let go, her brows raising as her mind cleared, the corners of her mouth bending as she said, “Herb of Yao.”
“Herb of Yao?” A Yin muttered.
Li Shiyi nodded. “The Shanhaijing[4] says, “Two hundred li to the east is Guyao Mountain, where the emperor’s daughter died, called Woman’s Body, and she was turned into the Herb of Yao, its leaves fragrant, with yellow flowers, looking like grave dodder, and taken as medicine, will flatter a person.”
“What does that mean?” Tu Laoyao couldn’t keep up with such literary talk, his head hurting from listening to it.
A Yin shot him a glance and said, “It meeans the Yan Emperor[5] had a daughter, known as Woman’s Body, who was incomprably alluring, unrivalled in the world. It was just a pity that, not even being married, she died prematurely, and her body was changed into the Herb of Yao, which bloomed yellow flowers, producing fruit like the dodder, yes, just like these. Tradition has it that if a woman could procure the Herb of Yao, she would be as attractive as if made by the heavens, delicate and sweet from the bones; these men, ah, not a single one was able to ward it off.”
Li Shiyi set Shijiu down, and gave her to A Yin, squatting down in front of the Herb of Yao, reaching out to touch it, and saw that while the Herb of Yao had its appearance, it was, in actuality, an illusion, one that could be seen but not touched, and muttered to herself for a few moments, then shook her head and said, “This Herb of Yao is truly not originally a plant, but rather instead a concentration of the essence of a po soul, if I am not mistaken, the thing which confused the people wasn’t Concubine Zhao, but rather actually the po spirit of this Herb of Yao.”
She had only crouched for a little bit, but feeling that her thighs were getting warm, Shijiu broke away from A Yin and wobbled over towards her side, and put her small fist on her thigh. Li Shiyi gazed at her, then grasped her hand and stood up.
“That is to say,” A Yin waved her handkerchief to fan some cool air at herself, “this Herb of Yao confused the men, but didn’t have any effect on our lady, and only then, at last, came before us.” The implications remained unspoken, and she sighed and finely furrowed her brows and said, “That’s not right, then how come Tu Laoyao is perfectly fine?” She turned her gaze and met Li Shiyi’s eyes, and then, without speaking, both of their gazes fell upon Tu Laoyao’s face, then slowly fell to his cringing chest, his fat abdomen, and then finally their brows rose, meaningfully stopping between his two legs.
Tu Laoyao’s hair stood on end, and his gaze fell upon the two young women scrutinising him with doubtful expressions, and even that small one was copying after them, and the scent of urine made him instinctively cover up, his face turning red as he stammered, “Drivel, what nonsense!” He crossed his legs, continuing to say clumsily, “That evil thing always makes playthings of people with evil intentions. I, Tu Laoyao, am completely content with my wife, so that evil spirit couldn’t affect me! I am…what is it called, I have a singular love for my wife!” He turned his face towards A Yin and said, “A singular love! You, you, you, haven’t you heard of it before?”
A Yin listened to Tu Laoyao use her usual words to try and harry her, and she let out a sneer, folding her arms and turning her head, shoulders nudging Li Shiyi next to her, and said with a cold laugh, “A prostitute like me, he tries to speak about of a singular love.” She rather regretfully pointed a finger at her temple and shook her head, saying, “There’s no sense in his head.”
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Translator's notes:
[1]: 小姐 (xiaojie) is a term used to address young women.
[2]: Traditionally referred to as 四合院 (si he yuan), these types of traditional buildings are usually occupied by extended families, and signify wealth.
[3]: The shape of the mountain range is determined by a number of fengshui methods, and that of the “coming dragon” (来龙, lai long) is thought to be auspicious.
[4]: Known in English as the Classic of the Mountains and the Seas, the Shanhaijing (山海经) is a collection of mythic geography and beasts.
[5]: Also known as the Flame Emperor, the Yan Emperor (炎帝) was a legendary Chinese ruler of pre-dynastic times.
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