Chapter 48: The amorous are angered by the heartless (IX)

Translator's note: Sorry that updates have been so sporadic and off-schedule; my life is more hectic this summer than I had thought it would be, so I haven't been able to stick to my self-imposed schedule as well as I would have liked. However, hopefully I'll be able to update regularly from now on out! 

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Li Shiyi and Yunyun danced for three songs. When the excitement reached its end, the group once again left as they had come, riding in a car. The residence they’d rented was on Lafayette Street, by the French Concession, and passing through the asphalt road, planted fully with plane trees, the car stopped in the garage; expertly trimmed gardens surrounded the three-story, red brick Western-style building, only the tranquil electric lamps in the light of the dusk remaining.

The group, out of strength, chatted and smiled, massaging necks and exchanging partings, and returned to their rooms; the red wood staircase echoed with steps, and the residence once again returned to tranquillity, the integrated Chinese-Western furniture combining the antiquity of the old capital with the haughtiness of the other shore across the great ocean, even the scent of the wood somewhat strange. The hanging electric fan worked hard to blow, whining as if it was groaning in minor key; Li Shiyi came out from the bathroom, loosely wrapped in the champagne-coloured silk nightgown that had been pre-prepared; the silk cloth was pleasantly cool, yet not chilly, and her lower body was as unreal as if wearing the wind; even her waist and chest were extremely comfortable, and in the movement, it tugged and traced the curves of her body.

She raised her hand and exerted some effort to wipe her dripping hair, and was just about to close the door and rest, when she saw a faint light brighten in the corridor; she went out to take a look; Song Shijiu’s room was partially obscured by the door, and within, there remained only the bright light of the moon. She hesitated for a moment, and when knocking on the door produced no response, simply pushed the door open and entered; it was unexpectedly empty, and there wasn’t anyone within. Li Shiyi was somewhat astonished; she made a loop around; the desk had books that hadn’t been finished. At a slow pace, she moved forward, and using the moonlight, swept a couple glances; she was just about to raise a hand and close the window, when a small silhouette unexpectedly appeared in her line of sight.

From the gardens on the first floor, a subtle fragrance floated; Song Shijiu also hadn’t changed her clothes, and was still in the dark blue cheongsam and two cun tall high heels, and in the garden, she had made a semicircle with her arms, advancing and retreating in a dance. Her curly, long hair swayed, and the ends of her hair occasionally followed along with her movements to jump, expressing high spirits that the young mistress couldn’t conceal; most of the time, her movements were neat, so much so that they were a bit inflexible, advancing a few steps, retreating a few steps, meticulous as to not have a single loose thread and having a small degree of clumsiness, not having managed to steal half of Li Shiyi’s graceful bearing from that time. Li Shiyi gazed at her, and her hand which had been rubbing her hair lowered, water spots wetting the silk on her back, winding down in a meandering line.

Song Shijiu’s head followed the rhythm and swayed from side to side; it seemed as if she herself was setting the meter, and when one song ended, like Yunyun, she tugged her skirt to and fro, the tips of her feet crossing, bowing to create an incredibly graceful parting courtesy.

Li Shiyi let out a laugh, crossing her arms and reclining against the side of the window, her fingers stroking the fine, slippery silk cloth of her sleeve. Song Shijiu stopped, lowering her head in pondering, and walked back; Li Shiyi curved the corners of her lips, raising her hand to close the glass window, and turned around and returned to her room.

The second day, Li Shiyi rose late; when she came downstairs, Song Shijiu was just biting the thin skin of a boiled crab roe dumpling, and when she bit down, the liquid gushed out, scalding and making her let out a breath, stammering and unable to speak; Li Shiyi furrowed her brows, and came over to her side to ask her, “What are you being this hasty for?” When she spoke, it brought with it a soft nasalness, as if she hadn’t rested too well the day before.

Tu Laoyao, carrying a bowl of food, came over from by the fireplace, and, nibbling on a pan-fried, meat-filled shengjian bun, laughed at her. “Say, between this fireplace and our coal one, which one’s warmer?”

Li Shiyi, increasing the rivalry for herself, didn’t have the spare time to acknowledge him, and said to Song Shijiu, “If you want to know, once winter comes again, then it will be.”

Tu Laoyao sat at the side, and smiled with difficulty. “I wouldn’t dare come again; these Western things, your Tu-ge unfortunately can’t enjoy. That electric fan, it looks like a guillotine, and it swayed over my head last night; I was afraid that it would fall down, and I stared at it for a good long while; actually, I didn’t sleep, and gazed at it until I was dizzy.”

Song Shijiu, listening, was quite amused, and her fawn eyes narrowed. Li Shiyi boiled an egg, and met her gaze, raising a brow at her; she sweetly nodded, and Li Shiyi lowered her head to attentively peel it, and in a few moments, peeled it white and delicate, setting it in her bowl. Tu Laoyao, seeing that Song Shijiu was eating with relish, also wanted to ask for one, but Li Shiyi in fact turned a deaf ear, bowing her head and pressing her lips together around a mouthful of porridge. Tu Laoyao sighed, and heard Li Shiyi ask, “What of A Yin and A Luo?”

“They left early in the morning, saying that they were going looking for some ‘Si Da Jingang’ to go eat.” Tu Laoyao picked up some pickles with his chopsticks, and continued, “They also instructed Wu Qian to send these few trays of steamed dumpling and shengjian back.”

“The two of them?” Li Shiyi was startled.

“Could it not be?” Tu Laoyao was also puzzled, and said, “these past few days, they’ve been as close as two sisters who’ve been through thick and thin together;^[1] when they went out, A Yin sprained her ankle, and that foolish Yama helped her along; what do you all guess about it? She was unexpectedly compliant, and even gave many thanks. Yin-da-nainai!” He widened his eyes in emphasis, and said, “Ordinarily, I reach out a hand for support every time, and she scoffs at me.”

“You’re a man, A Luo is a lady; naturally it’s not the same,” Song Shijiu said.

“It’s definitely not this sort of matter,” Tu Laoyao disagreed, mumbling to himself as he sipped a mouthful of porridge, not particularly satisfied, and added another phrase, “it’s just like now; Shiyi-jie peeled an egg for you, and refused to acknowledge me; is that because of it being a man or a woman?”

Although a relationship couldn’t necessarily fully be grasped, he often felt that he, himself, was often superfluous; this was precisely it. It was so much so that he thought a bit of his wife.

Li Shiyi cast a glance at him; he lacked confidence, and his voice became feeble; Song Shijiu’s face was hidden in her bowl, and her ears had pinked as if exposed to the sun.

At nightfall, at roughly the same time as the day before, they came to Xianyuesi; the manager was a sophisticate, and having met them face to face only once, warmly called them frequent visitors, and took them to a seat with a better view, and acted to have them sent a bottle of red wine; although this wine wasn’t very expensive, and it was only his words that were spoken beautifully, it made the women’s smiles carry an ease.

The waiting party would always have to arrive a bit earlier; the dance floor didn’t have a soul in sight, and only a few waiters crouched at the side, wearing small shirts and managing the power cords, and the female singers switched; voice slightly lowered, she crooned a tune into the microphone to test it; the stage lighting wasn’t too flamboyant with its light, only casting oblique beams, the dust hovering in the beam of light contrasting with singer’s voice, melancholic yet melodious, causing one to, without reason, feel a bit listless.

Song Shijiu sat at one end of the sofa, calmly tilting her ear to list, her fingers tapping against the sofa as if strumming a stringed instrument, her foot raising, and then falling one more, then raising again, and then falling once again. A restlessness trickled within her bone marrow. Li Shiyi turned a blind eye, crossing her legs, and tried to think of something to say without paying much attention to the words as she shook the dice.

Li Shiyi’s allure didn’t need to be stated; this inherent trait, even Tu Laoyao had experienced; A Yin, the day before, had even more thoroughly reflected upon her own ploys for a while; previously, the flirtations she’d taught Song Shijiu had been comparatively garish and sudden, and the highest quality assaults were clearly this manner of Li Shiyi’s, waist and back reclined, arms askew, a retreat that showed her true colours, and her swaying, crossed legs caused one’s heart to be a traitor which itched so much it was unbearable, caused one to be unable to help but want to pursue the retreating opposition. The day before, she’d used this tactic against Yunyun, and today, she used this tactic against Song Shijiu.

She hadn’t shaken the dice much, when suddenly Song Shijiu tugged at her sleeve, leaning in to ask her, “Come have a dance with me, alright?”

Li Shiyi let her pursed lips loosen, and asked her, “You can dance?”

“I just learned yesterday, I’m not very good at it,” Song Shijiu said, unexpectedly honest.

“Why do you want to dance?” Li Shiyi asked again.

“I thought, in the future, it’s unlikely that we’d come to this sort of place again,” Song Shijiu said, lowering her head to consider, and added, “I don’t want to recall it someday, that there was something someone else had done with you, that I could only watch.”

Li Shiyi blinked, and set the dice down, leading her to go to the dance floor. A Yin, who had been talking with A Luo, raised her face and looked towards the centre of the dance floor.

Today, Li Shiyi had combed her hair into an atmospheric, swept-back style, and her pretty, clever face was adequately exposed, the dim stage lights’ quality the best to veil it, and the shadows and light played on it, concealing and revealing the shape of it; with one hand, she encircled Song Shijiu’s lower back, and one hand held her fingertips, using a small amount of effort to grasp it; her jumping heartbeat was concealed in the soft murmur of the song; Song Shijiu lowered her head, biting her lip firmly.

Li Shiyi brought her forward and backwards, one step followed by another, a loop followed by a circle; she was the most experienced, the one steering the ship, and also the most calm and composed conductor, and she placated Song Shijiu’s anxiety and inexperience, and led her, pace and heartbeat together, to her own rhythm interlinked with her resonance.

Song Shijiu raised her head hesitantly, and when she met Li Shiyi face to face, her glance was fluid and flashed; she felt that Li Shiyi’s palm was faintly sweaty; she felt when Li Shiyi’s pace haltered from careless distraction; she felt when Li Shiyi was conscientious, and shyly opened something up, but toward this sort of thing, she didn’t know anything at all. She hadn’t used the raising arrangement of her skirt to take leave that had been prepared so meticulously, only enjoying and indulging in the complete dance with Li Shiyi.

When it was the second dance, Li Shiyi’s dancing partner switched partners, and the one at her side was Yunyun, arriving as planned. When she danced with her, her posture and movement wasn’t much the same, and her motions were a bit more smooth and beautiful, yet her expression wasn’t that attractive. Li Shiyi gazed at Yunyun’s delicate, alluring brows, and thought of just then; brows lowered and gaze restrained, the young lady carefully and cautiously counting the beat. She pensively drew back a small step, the back of her head bumping into a chilly pipe, firmly and dangerously knocking against the centre of her skull.

The splendid sounds halted, and it was abruptly silent; the cry of the noble young lady and the even beat of the rushing arrival of military boots interwove, and the keyed-up ambience, in a flash, was torn open. The experienced soldiers walked in a line, surrounding the dance floor and gathering it up; Li Shiyi inclined her gaze, and out of the corner of her eye, caught sight of a yellow-green army uniform. The sound of breathing could be heard in the silence, and the tread of a pair of leather boots enclosing the calves came; a middle-aged man’s voice sounded along with his footsteps: “Li-xiaojie dances well; her courage and insight is also great.”

The lowered gun barrels of the subordinates pressed forwards, and the arrival turned and walked forwards, gazing at Yunyun’s flower-delicate, jade-precious face, said with a smile, “Unexpectedly, my people are also captivated.”

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Translator's notes:

[1]: The idiom 穿一条裤子 (chuan yi tiao kuzi) literally means “to wear the same pair of pants”, and is used to refer to a pair of opposite-sex friends who are as close as family.