Chapter 40: The amorous are angered by the heartless (I)

This was the first time that Song Shijiu had heard Li Shiyi speak on intimacy. However, it wasn’t aimed at her. Originally, when the four characters of “eternal and forever” came from Li Shiyi’s mouth, it was as pleasant to listen to as experiencing a long-lasting kiss. Song Shijiu felt her own love, hanging in the balance, had turned into tea, and had been gently plucked out by Li Shiyi, placed within a pot, and been scattered by boiling water, the four scattered limbs and white bones emitting a pleasant scent, and being picked up in a reserved and aloof manner by her, from the small pot to being accepted by her mouth. To love someone in secret was to lift a heavy weight as if it were life; even if the heart expanded a hundred times and contracted a thousand, what was usually shown on the surface was only the remainder of those few things which were not crucial. It was impossible to demand that anyone else sympathise with this; even hoping there wasn’t anyone else who could sympathise with this, Song Shijiu felt embarrassed to have desire, its object Li Shiyi’s romance and tenderness.

She shouldn’t use the word “romance” to describe the person before her, but when Li Shiyi used a faintly nasal tone to say those words, she’d experienced an enormous, all-encompassing illusion that it was just the two of them. She had walked with her in the mountains, and the rivers, in the bright, sunny day, and even in the snowy paths. One step deep, another shallow; the deep was the manifold years and long months’ accompaniment, and the shallow was love, stopping after only one sip, gaining only superficial knowledge.

Song Shijiu furtively glanced at Li Shiyi; if she were to say what she most liked about Li Shiyi, it would probably be her eyelashes, thick, long and fine, not curled upwards like the young lady next to her, always aloof and indifferent as they drooped, just perfect to cut off her expressions from unobserved, meaningful depths, like curtain screens made of hanging beads, half hidden, half concealed, a myriad of wild and fanciful daydreams. As she flipped through books, her eyelashes would flicker, and when she was pondering something, they would flicker, would flicker when looking at others, and occasionally, when looking at Song Shijiu, they would flicker. It made one’s heart fully satisfied, but it was just that it was “occasionally”. Song Shijiu bit her lower lip, a lock of silky, soft hair wrapped around her finger, not too long; she twisted it twice, nestling it in her palm.

After not too long, they once again entered the mountain god temple; the little snake had long since coiled on the tile, waiting, and, seeing Song Shijiu, like the day before, hurried to the ground, stretching its body as if the wrinkles were being ironed out of clothes.

Switching noses and borrowing a nose didn’t have any difference; with the opening and closing of an eye it was done; Song Shijiu giddily touched her own nose, drawing in a good few breaths of air as if she had gotten congested from a cold, and for a little while, couldn’t smell anything. As the saying went, it was easy to go from frugality to extravagance, but the reverse wasn’t so easy; it was precisely this principle. The good nose had only been used for a full day, and then the not too sharp one had been picked back up; it just was very hard to adapt.

Song Shijiu, speaking in a low and muffled voice, wanted to bid farewell to the small snake, but saw Li Shiyi looking at the small green snake for a good while, wanting to say something but hesitating. The small green snake also noticed something unusual, raising its head to stare at her. Li Shiyi stooped faintly, pressing her thin lips together, and then quickly let them go, mildly saying, “I have a matter that I want to ask Yu-daren to help with.” She’d thought it over; Yushiqie was good at commanding serpents, her eyes and ears well-connected; she could ask her to make inquiries about traces of mythological animals, and it would in all be better than her own, frantic rushing about a good deal.

Song Shijiu tilted her face to ask her, “What matter?” Unexpectedly not knowing, she wasn’t very happy.

Li Shiyi glanced at her, then turned again. “Please ask Yu-daren, whether or not she knows the whereabouts of the Teng serpent?” Yushiqie’s nose and eyes could only search out living animals; since the Teng serpent had necessarily hidden nearby the Bai Shai, then inquiries should be made about the Teng serpent’s location.

The little green snake was a bit puzzled, and then tilted its neck upwards to look at Li Shiyi, earnestly saying, “Honestly speaking, I’m not very willing to respond to you.”

This Ling Heng had changed outwardly while remaining essentially the same; for a while, it had unexpectedly not been recognisable; that day, returning to the temple to report back to Yu-daren, a great deal of criticism had been endured, only then was it known that it was this sort of person. It didn’t understand how Jiu-daren had gotten involved with this sort of scourge, the young mistress’ love-yearning peach eyes cast onto her body, calling out with wave after wave; if it weren’t that snakes weren’t able to get goosebumps, it was afraid that it would have immediately shuddered into them. It was just that superiors’ matters, the small spiritual snake couldn’t well pry into; criticising inwardly was fine, but it even disdained Li Shiyi with a high degree of propriety.

Hearing the words, Li Shiyi was startled; she very rarely made requests of others, and even more, she’d never been refused by someone with this sort of lack of sensitivity to feelings; for a moment, it unexpectedly made her forget to raise her body, and her eyes enlarged slightly, her teeth lightly biting the walls of her mouth.

Song Shijiu, sensing Li Shiyi’s embarrassment, for a short while, couldn’t manage to question closely what the reason for the Teng serpent was, and only crouched, gently tapping the green snake’s head, pretentiously feigning fury, and said, “Qingqing.”

Jiu-daren expressing anger, that was naturally terrible; the little snake drew back its body, standing straight, and not daring to breathe, made a sound in reply, and only on replying felt something wasn’t quite right, cautiously and solemnly waving its neck, and asked her, “Who’s Qingqing?”

“You,” Song Shijiu said.

The little white fox had been called A Bai, so the little green snake ought to be called Qingqing.^[1]

“O.” The little snake nodded its head; that was alright, then.

Seeing it was obedient, Song Shijiu was satisfied a bit, and drew her hand back to rest on her knees, and then carefully asked, “That Teng serpent’s location, can you say it for me to hear?”

“I can.” The little snake was incredibly principled, and said, “The Teng serpent is always unashamed; it’s not some sort of honourable serpent, accustomed to indulging in spending time in red light districts; a month ago, it appeared in a brothel in Zhangjiakou, and half a month ago, I heard Shanghai’s Bund’s ‘Xianyuesi’ also had signs of its activity.”

Hearing this, Song Shijiu’s face reddened, unconsciously raising her hand to gently fan her cheek, and then, afraid the little snake would see that she didn’t have any first-hand knowledge, calmly nodded, making a sound of agreement, as if she had heard it before. She motioned her hand to inform the little snake to withdraw, and then stood up and tilted her face upwards to look at Li Shiyi. She wanted to take credit for the achievement before Li Shiyi, but she also feared running into a wall of Li Shiyi not much liking her showing off; she reached out a hand to tug her cuff, and said in a gentle voice, “Let’s go.”

Li Shiyi in fact smiled, the attractive corners of her mouth seeing through her thoughts, and curling in response, and with an “en” began to walk back.

Song Shijiu fanned herself a couple times, entirely feeling like she’d been burnt severely; what brothel Xianyuesi; in the end, they all fell short of being as attractive as the curve of the corners of Li Shiyi’s mouth.

Li Shiyi and Song Shijiu had left, and Tu Laoyao had become the master of the Twenty-four Filial Exemplars; A Yin was at peace, originally intending to return to the alley, but having walked halfway, the heel of her shoe had turned, and had altered the tip of her foot on the ground gently, heading towards A Luo’s residence. She walked slowly with a lowered head, wrapped in an overcoat, tapered heels grinding into the small puddles of water with each step; after a good while, her hand reached out to push aside her hair, a rarely seen absentmindedness. Originally, she’d entered prostitution because of that reason, her waist soft and bones light, but now, having obtained the medicine A Luo had provided, the days of being unable to see five fingers in front of her had found a way out, and unexpectedly, in her chest, an odd discomfort had risen.

It could be said that, in the clandestine streets, she had mastered with her body the business of the walking the roads at night, meeting her own needs expertly from a lifetime of staying there, and could even pass it comfortably. But suddenly, she had been lifted up beneath the sunlight, and the original business of walking the night was no longer natural; the shortcomings concealed in the darkness had, in fact, become vivid defects, making her unable to avoid wanting to reach out a hand and touch messy hair, dusky cheeks, and eyes of primal chaos.

Absurd. She sneered at herself with a pu-chi.

Thinking like this, her face actually didn’t show any hints, her features lively and deep as she and Wu Qian played a round of finger guessing,^[2] and drank two jars of wine with A Luo.

A Luo, despsite being thin and delicate, could in fact drink quite well; after the din, she sat in the courtyard with the other and enjoyed the breeze. The two had given up on furniture, only raising their skirts and sitting on the stone steps; A Yin put turned her hand over and propped herself up on her arm, leaning back, swinging her crossed, long legs and counted the roosters wandering about the courtyard. The scent that was created by the slender, fair beauty of jade bones and ice skin was in fact the true Nüerhong. The aura created by different young women was not the same; A Yin was the sweet and sentimentally seductive scent of rouge; A Luo was the fragrance of fragile, delicate bamboo.^[3]

She had a bit of a voracious desire for this sort of bamboo scent.

“You, Lord Yama, what are you doing raising chickens?” A Yin asked, fanning herself with her handkerchief.

A Luo’s posture was wildly different from hers; her back was erect, and her legs were set apart, her forearms placed on her knees, and she availed herself of the feeling of tipsiness to slowly draw a half circle with her chin. She gazed at the chickens, clucking as they walked, and smiled weakly but exuberantly. “I think that they’re exceedingly lively.”

“Lively?” A Yin frowned.

A Luo nodded. “My own, small form is weak, and its actions are slow; it’s always incapable of putting forth much vigor.” She extended her index finger, tapping the void, her voice incredibly tende. “Look at them; each one has a high head and fine spirits; whether walking or skipping, and whether or not they’re happy or not, the crest of a chicken always extends upwards, with the mannerism of refusing to concede.”

This opinion was unexpectedly novel; A Yin smiled, eyes narrowing.

A Luo lowered her chin, and pressed her lips together, thinking deeply. “I always wondered, what was it that could bless things to maintain eternal enthusiasm?”

A Yin raised her head to gaze at the sky, not responding to her. A Luo let out an unitinteligible breath, and said, “The days of the Taishan registry…have been too long.”

Her words were puzzling, yet A Yin in fact understood what she heard; the days of the Taishan registry hadn’t been too long, but too lonely.

A Luo was the reincarnation of the underworld’s essence, lacking a father or a mother, elder brothers or elder sisters; she’d walked the path of the Yellow Springs uncountable times, and had judged the reincarnated uncountable times; day after day, the cycle coming back to the start; like the Golden Crow of the sun, following the trajectory from east to west, a life that followed the rules inflexibly, and a life that was incredibly boring.

A Yin closed her eyes partially, and hadn’t yet spoken, when she saw A Luo thoughtfully turn her face to look ather, and say softly, “You…”

A Yin raised a brow, looking at her.

She continued, “Are also exceedingly lively.”


The body in the quagmire may as well place itself in the coal fire; eventually, there would be a day of unbridled, bright prosperity.

A Yin turned over, sitting up, and let out a hissing sound, her long, shapely brows falling into a line. “You’re comparing me to chickens?”

A Luo tilted her face to look at her; A Yin had made to twist her hand, but had stopped in midair, quietly scoffing as she drew it back, pressing it against the completely empty pot of wine on the ground, a few fingers circling it with a rustling. A Luo watched her fiddling with the wine pot, and reached out a hand to still the wandering motion. A Yin picked up the wine pot, swinging it gently, and with a still chest looked at her. “I want to.”

A Luo laughed softly, standing up, her hand tugging at A Yin’s wrist, using a slight bit of strength to lead her along, and pulled her into the room.

A Yin was an occasionally clever young lady, and was sometimes a stupid one; it could be said that she was slow in her reactions, overlooking A Luo’s implications. If Tu Laoyao were there, she would strive to use her intelect, and perhaps she could take the two phrases of “A Luo likes chickens, because they’re lively” and “A Yin is also lively” and connect them, but A Yin hadn’t. She was pulled along by A Luo, her heart beating and stopping in starts. That moment it beat, it was a soft release, and that moment it paused was called timidity.

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Translator's notes:

[1]: The “Bai” in A Bai (阿白) is the same as the character for “white”, and the “Qing” in “Qingqing” (青青) is the same as the character for “green”.

[2]: 划拳 (hua quan), a drinking game where the participants put down fingers at the same time and say a number. Whoever’s number is equal to the total sum of fingers wins, and the other party drinks.

[3]: The raws say 酒 (jiu), which is literally “wine”, but given the figurative nature of this passage I’ve chosen to use “scent” and variations.