Chapter 13: From a long and arduous journey comes peace (III)

As they were about the set off the next day, Li Shiyi and the others considered the route closely: taking a train from Beiping towards Zhengzhou, then heading west from Zhengzhou to Shanzhou, and in Shanzhou switching to a steamship to Tongguan, and after disembarking, taking a car to Xi’an. Li Shiyi briefly calculated it: the route, in actuality, would take six or seven days.

In the descending nightfall, with the sounds of the watchmen’s clappers, Tu Laoyao came across trouble; having only just boasted about following her through wind and rain, he thought about his wife at home and felt a little bit anxious.

A Yin said, “The trip is to a distance; are you coming or not?”

With a manly voice, Tu Laoyao replied through clenched teeth with a single word worth nine sacred tripods:^[1] “I’ll go.”

Li Shiyi cast a glance at him, and, in agreement, said, “A Chun’s gift of the residence, I’ve accepted; the state of it is good, and the structure is well-ventilated, and all of the furniture and every necessity is already available. If today gets much colder, and your courtyard lets in the wind, your wife should move in, and I’ll ask a few housecleaning ladies to tidy up, and nothing will go awry.” Tu Laoyao mumbled a few incomprehensible words, wanting to speak again, and Li Shiyi bowed her head and looked at the the map, and said, “The residence is big; its east and west courtyards will remain empty regardless, and the west side will be set aside for A Yin.”

A Yin laughed happily; even though she wouldn’t be able to stay for a number of days, it was hard for her to think of. 

“Yes, it’s well enough, it’s just that,” Tu Laoyao said, “that residence is a gift for completing the job; if it’s not completed, how’s that alright?”

A Yin’s shapely brows rose, and she said, “With this lady here undertaking it, how can it not be completed?”

But Li Shiyi said, “If it isn’t completed, then the ownership will be transferred. In today’s uncertain political situation, a residence doesn’t necessarily count as valuable.” Although she had savings put aside, this was still an unexpected fortune; previously, basic needs weren’t given particular attention, and a single courtyard for a single person was comfortable enough, unlike today. She looked at Song Shijiu, by her side, who was solving a set of jiulianhuan rings;^[2] each day, she was getting bigger and bigger, and they couldn’t squeeze into a single bed forever; this small house no longer appeared to be big enough, and, on top of that, the surrounding neighbours were all familiar faces; Song Shijiu’s appearance was consistent in a single day, but after a number of days of meetings, it would be hard not to arouse suspicion. She considered it for a while, and although she didn’t say it aloud, there was no need to say it.

But seeing Song Shijiu cast a glance over, she met her gaze; Song Shijiu came over slowly to sit at the side of the table and asked her, “The east for Tu Laoyao, the west for A Yin, then what about me?” What about Song Shijiu, who you held from infancy til adulthood?

Li Shiyi paused for a moment, drank a mouthful of tea, and then said, “Living with A Yin would be fine, and living with me would be fine, too.”

Song Shijiu pressed her lips together and smiled sweetly, saying, “Of course I’ll live with you.”

Li Shiyi cast a narrow-eyed glance at her, the corners of her mouth rising faintly, and said, “You weren’t picked up off the street, and you aren’t disliked.”

“When did I say anything like that?” Song Shijiu said, startled.

A Yin covered up her mouth with her handkerchief and muffled a laugh; the cheek of this girl, as beautiful as an April’s day, like a monkey show, really made one unable to bear it.

Li Shiyi’s explanation to Tu Laoyao came to an end, and Tu Laoyao began, invigorated, to prepare to return home and tidy up, when he heard Li Shiyi say, “If your family has any red eggs, bring along a couple.”

“What do you want those red eggs for?” Tu Laoyao asked, puzzled.

Li Shiyi lowered her eyelashes and thought for a moment, then said, “These past few days she’s been about to become an adult, and I’m afraid that on the road, there won’t be anything good.” She didn’t know what to give her as a present, and having thought it over, remembered the time Song Shijiu had enviously eyed the red egg the neighbour’s baby had received.

A Yin startled, and cast a glance at Song Shijiu, the corners of her lips remaining in their customary slight smile. Song Shijiu also stared blankly, and immediately delicately went over, grasping Li Shiyi’s arm in her embrace, leaning her head against her shoulder, and said in a quiet voice, “You treat me extremely well.” She didn’t know what the aching, swelling feeling in her heart was, both comfortable and painful, both warm and cold, and she thought a moment, then added, “When I’m grown, I’ll marry myself off to you.”

A Yin let out a puff of laughter, and Tu Laoyao also let out a few amused huffs of breath; two young ladies—what nonsense was she saying?

Li Shiyi drew her jaw closed, and extracted her arm from her embrace, and didn’t look at her, saying, “That’s not necessary.”

Song Shijiu puffed up her cheeks and shot her an aggrieved look, and sat at her side and seethed. A Yin clapped her hands, smiling as she bent her waist, and said, “Seeing as today’s play has been seen, it turns out that role still has some interest. This jiejie’s leaving now; we’ll meet tomorrow morning at the western station, then.”

The western station had significantly more people today than it had the past two days, and Tu Laoyao had experience this time, crowding onto the car with the big and small cases, but he didn’t expect A Chun had shown her skill in spending money and reserved an entire first-class carriage, with beds as wide as a person, marble tabletops, and Western-style, genuine wood adornments accompanying the small, dark green silver light fixtures, which, when the cord of strung pearls was pulled, would light up, and when pulled again, would be extinguished once more. Tu Laoyao tilted his head and looked around for a good while; the electric lights he’d only seen once before, in Li Shiyi’s warehouse, and this time, examining them for quite a long time, he asked A Yin, “How is the kerosene put in here?”

The train began to move, and Tu Laoyao arranged the luggage, and then walked around from left to right, and, returning, said happily, “You really couldn’t imagine it; it’s actually full of fantastic oddities of every type, like a Western department store; there’s a drawing room on the left, and tavern on the right, which even has that black liquid A Yin loves drinking.”

A Yin knew that was a Western-style bar counter, and, unlike him, wasn’t going to bother about it, only laughingly taking out her handkerchief and fanning herself with it.

The strangeness lasted no more than half a day, and the group fell into the regular rhythm of the train; the night spilled down like splashed ink, the firefly-like stars outside of windows sparkling and flickering, their image inverted on the translucent glass, a single star turning into two.

A Chun didn’t like talking, and only sat in silence, unable to sleep at night; hearing the soft sound of Tu Laoyao snoring, she walked, alone, to the parlour, and leaned against the window, looking out at the hook-like waning moon outside.

Li Shiyi, clothes draped across her, pushed open the door and came in; she saw her tilted face dim and illusory in the moonlight, the hair that had been pulled back in the daytime scattered, laying gently along her graceful back, and even in the windless interior of the carriage, the ends of her hair floated softly, both enchanting and elegant.

A Chun turned her face, her lips still pale and colourless, and called out to her, “Madam-xiansheng.”

“You may as well you call me Shiyi,” Li Shiyi said.

“Shiyi.” A Chun’s voice was gentle as light, descending frost, and she continued, “The rain pauses briefly in the cold; eleven years ago, a dream of a scene.”^[3]

“The feeling has become its own memory, with scattered mandarin ducks,” Li Shiyi mouthed silently.

“From when I met you, I knew you could help me.” A Chun raised hand to her cheek, and continued, “Tell me, are the moon today and the moon of the past the same? If I look towards the moon, can I see an old friend?”

Li Shiyi smiled, shaking her head without answering.

“But I don’t even know who I am, and where the old friend is from.” A Chun’s voice seemed to come from outside the train, much slower than the person beside her, bearing with it the mellowness of the night outside.

Li Shiyi pondered for a moment, then said, “You wanting me to go to look for what, in the end?”

“Skeletal remains,” A Chun replied, her glance fluidly moving to gaze at her, and she continued, “my skeletal remains.”

The line of Li Shiyi’s lips moved briefly, and then she heard A Chun say, “I laid there for a great many years, without a coffin or a stele, and I don’t know who I am; what I want to know is who I am.”

The iron door opened and then closed once more; Li Shiyi tilted her face, and saw A Yin wearing a champagne-coloured, silk nightgown, loosely secured by a belt, one hand gathering up her thick, curled hair, the other holding a cigarette, languidly leaning by the side of the door.

“A Yin.” Li Shiyi nodded.

A Yin narrowed her eyes as she laughed, her appearance charming and teasing, and she leisurely walked over, saying lightly, “Beautiful scenery, beautiful women; there really is a great deal of appeal.”

Li Shiyi was used to her careless speech, and didn’t answer; hearing A Chun and A Yin exchanging greetings, she sank into the silence of the murky smoke. A Yin drew in another drag of the cigarette, and tapped the ash off into the ashtray, and Li Shiyi opened her mouth and said, “Since you’ve come, you may as well investigate A Chun-guniang.”

“If I hadn’t come, you couldn’t order me about,” A Yin said laughingly.

A Chun tilted her face, casting a glance at Li Shiyi, and immediately turned towards A Yin and extended her right hand, her purple veins clearly visible against her pale skin; she lowered her chin, and cast her gaze at A Yin and said, “I’d thank you for the trouble, madam-xiansheng.”

A Yin put out her cigarette, raised her hand and grasped her palm loosely, and then let go of it quickly, saying with a laugh, “I interpret bones, I don’t look for a pulse.”

A Chun was startled, and pursed her lips, smiling faintly. The train patiently took in and expelled great amounts of smoke, like a massive, untiring beast, engrossed with racing into the wind without thought for the end or destination. The curtain of the night was filled with its roaring, its whistling expanding before falling upon one’s ears. Sweat gathered on A Yin’s brow, a faint, unparalleled scent emanating from her perfumed clothes, and she released the even more pale-faced A Chun, sniffing and returning to sit in the chair, closing her eyes and gathering her mind, her left hand unthinkingly grasping the cigarette that had just been half-smoked, and she exerted herself to grind it.

“Her unfinished words; what are they?” Li Shiyi asked her.

A Yin’s twin eyes opened slightly, exhausted and vacant. “She said—almost, just almost.”

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Translator's notes:

[1]: The nine sacred tripods (九鼎, jiu ding) refer to the collection of ding cauldrons which were historically viewed as symbols of authority, supposedly cast during the Xia dynasty. Only the emperor was allowed to use all nine ding.

[2]: 九连环 (jiulianhuan), literally “nine linked rings”, are type of puzzle formed of nine metal rings linked together on a long loop with a handle, the objective of which is to free the rings.

[3]: From Nalan Xingde’s ci poem “Xie family courtyard savaged by change” (谢家庭院残更立), set to the tune of “Picking mulberries” (采桑子). This line refers to a happiness can be recalled, but not regained; thus, a joy that has become sadness in the blink of an eye, reflecting the impermanence of worldly affairs.