Chapter 57: Who entrusted my longing to the wild ginger? (VI)

Li Shiyi had seen all kinds of strange matters, but had never before raised a cat, and didn’t know how the small, snow-white ball that had coiled around her heels now laid at a distance, the ball of feathers and the dried fish both entirely lacking appeal; but that cat’s paws scratched one’s heart severely, causing one to both hurt and yearn, yet unwilling to let it be free.

This cat was called “worry about personal gains and losses”. It had been raised by Song Shijiu, and been placed in Li Shiyi’s courtyard. The cat’s paws scratched late into the night, scratching til Li Shiyi abandoned three sheets of fine, xuan writing paper,^[1] and only then did A Yin’s knocking open Song Shijiu’s door. She gazed at Song Shijiu’s hair, spilling over her back, which, its bun having been loosened, was faintly curly; in the past, when her hair was curly, it was like an elaborate toy figurine; she didn’t know if it was because losing weight had revealed the sharp angles, but unexpectedly, the few strands of hair winding around her neck had some lovely charm.

“A Yin,” she said somewhat absent-mindedly, an unfamiliar seal turning in her hand. That seal was originally the one that, after she’d been kissed by Li Shiyi, she’d secretly engraved and wanted to give to her as a present, and because she’d been at a loss as to whether to put on a red or a black tassel for two days, afterwards, she hadn’t given it to her.

A Yin complied, coming in, and set the two tall, glass cups on the table, and unstoppered a bottle of grape wine, and said with a smile before what she’d poured covered the bottom of the cup, “Wu Qian only brought back this one bottle of Western wine; don’t you dare tell Tu Laoyao.”

Song Shijiu let out an “en”, the movement of the corners of her mouth counting as a smile, and sat at the table, her slender calves bare and folded, supporting her pretty figure at an angle. She raised the sparkling, translucent wine glass, holding it up to the tip of her brows and swaying it slightly, opening her eyes to look at it calmly; the scarlet liquid was suspended on the wall of the cup, as if it had a following shadow; her pupils filled with a strange expression, and the refraction of the red wine made a shadow on her face, just perfectly evading innocence.

People often said that stories were pleasant to listen to; then, the person with a story in their heart ought to be incredibly moving.

A Yin and Song Shijiu finished drinking the wine, and spoke without urgency until the flush climbed to the their cheeks, and only then did she pull her into her bedding, embracing her and whispering. She thought of the Song Shijiu of before, the image of her embracing her pillow and coming to search her out to speak to her about the matters of the heart; it hadn’t even been a few months, but it was as if many years had passed.

Now, Song Shijiu was no longer burrowed in her embrace, only pressing her forehead to her shoulder unbearably, and only after waiting for the heat of the alcohol to gradually disperse, did she quietly say, “I don’t want to be like this either.” She understood the reason for A Yin’s coming, and had wanted to tell her from the start, but simply hadn’t known how to start.

The grievance in the words, involuntary, filled to overflowing, and it seemed possible to hear the young woman’s choked voice; A Yin stroked her back as if pacifying a cat, until the taut muscles gradually loosened, and only then asked her, “Because if Shiyi, is it?”

Song Shijiu’s forehead rubbed against her shoulder, and she didn’t know whether it was a nod or a shake of her head; she didn’t reply to A Yin’s question, only saying, “I saw it, A Yin. I don’t know why I saw it, but I saw it. I saw the Shiyi that you gazed at jealously, saw her take off her clothes before you; I couldn’t hear what you were saying, and I desperately wanted to hear, but I couldn’t hear anything at all.”

A bang erupted in A Yin’s mind, the explosion causing her ears to buzz faintly, and the veins in her temples, which had expanded by the alcohol, throbbed, as if they wanted to jump out from under the thin skin. She breathed deeply, raising her hand to press it against the back of Song Shijiu’s head, and her voice was as soft as if it were being filtered through warm water. “So, that’s why you’ve become like this?”

“No,” Song Shijiu shook her head. “I originally wanted to speak about it clearly with Shiyi and you, but as soon as I saw her, my heart hurt as if it were being pinched, and no matter what, my spirits wouldn’t rise at all; I felt incredibly unhappy, and couldn’t eat or sleep well, as if I had…as if I had gotten sick.” She could clearly sense this state of sickness had come from a place of physiology, and couldn’t be controlled by her.

A Yin pondered a moment, and gracefully opened her mouth. “You aren’t a little girl, and I’m not willing to conceal it from you anymore—once, I liked Shiyi, liked her an incredible amount, probably no less than you do.” She had deliberately added the word, “once”, despite fearing that it still wasn’t clear, but she was certain that it was necessary. A Yin said, sincerely and honestly, “It’s just, do you know what she said to me? That scene you saw that day was her saying to me that she could fulfill my shameful desires, but in the future, wouldn’t be able to be sisters. She neatly arranged her body and expression for me to look, and let me choose. I didn’t dare to choose, didn’t think, and only afterwards did I realise that I still wanted to be good friends with her.” A Yin laughed, and said, “Affection, in the end, is a matter of two people.”

Song Shijiu wanted to say something, but A Yin withdrew her hand, patting her shoulder, her eyes narrowing charmingly, and looked past her inclined face to gaze at the remaining half bottle of wine on the table, and said, “These few days, when I was out with A Luo, I heard a Suzhou pingtan; take a guess, what did I think?” Her loose expression was one of breaking the ice, and there was a faint, attractive smiling expression at the edge of her lips. “Oh, I thought, if I chased only her, it wouldn’t be as good as singing the praises of a satisfying actor; as usual, I was in the audience, watching, and she was grand on the stage, and I couldn’t step onto it, and wasn’t able to sing the song. If I were to support an actor, to throw a great deal of money down, the actor would even smile at me; I would be at ease, and she would be at ease as well. But if I were to chase Li Shiyi with my wishful thinking, throwing the entirety of my assets down until they were bleeding and bloodied, she wouldn’t be at ease, and I wouldn’t be at ease, either. Tell me, isn’t that the case?”

Song Shijiu wanted to speak, but hesitated, and then said after a long while in a quiet voice, “Yes.”

A Yin said in a soft voice, “And then I thought, since my body has become like this, affection should absolutely not be wasted; I absolutely must search for a perfectly pure, perfectly complete affection; only that would be good. Living this life, if I waste everything, what meaning would that have, then?”

Song Shijiu bit at a bit of her lip, and for a bit, sucked on it as well, reaching out a hand to catch A Yin’s hand; she grasped it in her palm, not budging for a long while. Only after a long while did she say, “I’m afraid that I’ll become like you.”

Yet A Yin smiled, extending her fingers to poke her, and said, “You’re not the same at all. Seeing her suffering so much because of you, I was actually a bit delighted.” She tilted her neck, thinking for a while, yet in the end, didn’t know what the reason was.

Song Shijiu, leaning against her bosom and shook her head, saying in incredible dismay, “I’ve understood it. I grew up from childhood learning from you. She didn’t love Tu Laoyao, and didn’t love you either, and it’s even more unlikely that she loved herself, so how could she love me?”

A Yin furrowed her brows. “What sort of preposterous reasoning is that?”

Song Shijiu lowered her head, the rims of her eyes faintly flushing. “If she truly has me in her heart, then why did she kiss me, yet give me the cold shoulder?”

A Yin was startled; she hadn’t thought that she would ask this, and even her gently stroking hand paused. In the end, it was even Song Shijiu who raised another topic. “A Yin, you’ve been incredibly good to me.” She liked Li Shiyi as she did, yet she was willing to come to talk to her like this in the middle of the night.

“Bullshit,” A Yin said, stroking her head lightly. “Why, when you were as big as shelled peanuts, you almost drank my milk! If you were conscientious, you ought to call me mother.”

Song Shijiu was startled, and her long-lost blush caught her off guard. A Yin’s laughter shook her body, and only after a good while did she stop, rising to turn off the light and gathering her up to sleep.

The second day, Song Shijiu’s spirits were a bit better, and she was just strolling in garden when she came across Wu Qian, who had risen early to leave and go buy groceries; thinking about how she’d been shut up for so long, she thought she might as well go out with him. When they’d all awakened, Tu Laoyao cooked a few bowls of tangyuan, each eating slowly; Tu Laoyao sucked one down, and pointed at the brief note that Wu Qian had left, heaving a sigh of relief. “The two of them went to go buy groceries; she was willing to go out after all.”

Li Shiyi bit into a mouthful of the sticky skin, not making a sound. A Yin set her bowl down, narrowing her eyes at her, and said, “If you’re not at ease, then go chase after her.” She chewed a tangyuan a few times, the sesame filling having been drained clean; it really was unbearable to look at.

Li Shiyi pressed her lips together, placing her spoon back in her bowl; she may as well not eat.

A Yin spoke again. “I discussed things with her last night, and felt the entire time there was something strange; usually, she’s like a small stove, but now she’s incredibly disheartened, indulging in flights of fancy, able to make herself cry at the drop of a hat.”

The tip of Li Shiyi’s heart stuttered; she raised a hand to support her chin.

Tu Laoyao finished his tangyuan in a few mouthfuls, swallowing them with a slurping sound, and suddenly said, “Now that you say it, I’ve just remembered. There was a day when I was thinking about my family.” In the group’s gaze, he changed the words. “There was a night I was unable to sleep thinking of my wife; I went into the courtyard to swat mosquitoes, and saw little A Jiu’s window had a person in it, no more than a few chi tall; the two were speaking by the window. I raised my head to look for a while, my neck and my eyes aching, and returned to my rooms, puzzled, simply taking it to be a dream. You said strange—perhaps it was truly real?”

Li Shiyi’s ring finger pressed against her lower lip, stroking back and forth a couple times as she thought deeply. But she heard A Luo say, “If it’s really so, I’m afraid I know the reason.”

The group raised their gaze to look at her, and saw she had a genteel smile, like an unfurled orchid. “Whether it’s as I think, it would still need to be confirmed.”

“How would it be confirmed?” A Yin asked.

“Causing her happiness for a moment would do it.”

“She’s almost worried to tears, how could she still be happy?” Tu Laoyao asked, disapproving.

A Luo declined to comment, casting her gaze to Li Shiyi.

Li Shiyi lowered her head, looking at the wooden table, but the tip of A Yin’s foot suddenly and lightly kicked her calf, and A Yin said with a smile, raising her brows, “Surely our Shiyi-jie wouldn’t say she doesn’t know how to make her happy, would she?”

Li Shiyi blinked her eyelashes a couple times, wavering over what move to make, the hesitance pressing down gently on her shoulders.

“Oh,” A Yin fished out her handkerchief, covering up her mouth, and inclined her face to smile at A Luo, “that heartless person we saw in that play, do you still remember? Hugging and kissing, yet not making a confession to the person.”

Originally, she’d assumed A Luo was about to play a supporting role, yet she saw A Luo sip a mouthful of tea, carrying a complicated smiling expression as she gazed at her, and ask in reply, “Is that so?”

Entirely without an explanation, as if there wasn’t merely one.

The veil of darkness fell like an overturned bowl, yet magnanimously and benevolently left the moon and the stars, which were sufficient to illuminate the lost path, and enough to guide one back home. The door was knocked heavily thrice, the crooked finger of hand pretty as if an invaluable antique, but its owner was incredibly nervous. Up to the door opening, when she saw Song Shijiu, Li Shiyi didn’t know what she ought to say. She hadn’t been alone with her for a long time, and she faintly felt that, along with Song Shijiu’s maturation, the balance beam of her own relationship with her was swaying slightly; she was no longer the one sitting steadily with the upper hand; in Song Shijiu’s estrangement, she saw her own vulnerability.

“You still haven’t slept?” Her voice was as gentle and soft as if currying favour.

“En,” Song Shijiu said, lowering her head to gaze ahead, her extended hand uneasily brushing back her hair. A few strands of hair caught in her fingertips, and she twisted them, coiling them unconsciously in her hand, one circle after another, as if measuring the entanglement between her and Li Shiyi. The hair wound tight, binding the body of her fingers and making them white at one turn and red at the next; she hesitantly gazed at her, feeling a bit choked up for no reason. She really wanted to throw herself into Li Shiyi’s embrace, to act spoiled with snivelling and tears, but gazing at the bound fingers, she forcibly controlled herself. She felt that she were those incredibly improper strands of hair, and Li Shiyi were the fingers.

Li Shiyi extended a hand to catch her wrist, and asked her, “What happened? Tell me, are you alright?” Originally, she had assumed that there was nothing that would cause her to feel more unhappy than Song Shijiu restraining her tears in silence, but in the next moment, Song Shijiu drew back her hand like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bow, her hands crossing behind her back.

Her throat grew tight in a flash, and she gazed at Song Shijiu, sitting at the table, her hands over-cautiously resting on her knees, and she said, “I…” 

She sighed, her expression incredibly constrained.

Li Shiyi breathed shallowly, pausing on her shockingly thin, weak physique for a moment, and she finally felt that if it continued like this, she would lose Song Shijiu. Lose that burning sun, wiping away sweat as she carried a bucket of water, the crescent moon that swatted insects away under the grapevine, the meandering and circuitous, untiring flower butterfly, and the liar who closed her eyes in her palm and tremblingly said “I don’t like Li Shiyi”.

Li Shiyi walked over, crouching before her, and looked tenderly into her eyes. “What’s happened to you?”

So, speaking softly without anger wasn’t that hard at all, as long as the other party made you willing. She looked at her earnestly; with unprecedented courage and unyielding perseverance, her voice soft from fear of alarming the person before her, she said, “Where’s that Song Shijiu of before?”

The flowers still blossomed; the stars still glinted; the world and all things still loved her with innumerable ways; but she didn’t have the ability to depend on speech to bring out her coffin, command her with questions on her birth, and listen to her sincerity.

“What you said before, that no matter what sort of plaything you were, you’d always want…” Li Shiyi paused, then continued, “where’s that Song Shijiu?” Her chest rose heavily and loudly, even her breathing largely out of control; the backs of her ears burnt as if firewood had been placed there, the flames covering her face slightly.

Song Shijiu had also frozen, breathing in small breaths; she felt the hands Li Shiyi had placed on her knees were trembling slightly, the severity quite minute, but together with the faint brightness in her eyes, it was as if raging waves and stormy seas were slamming against her ribs. She cautiously and carefully asked, “Want to what?”

“Love me.” Li Shiyi’s bashfulness finally entered her eyes, causing her eyelashes to be unbearably heavy; they lowered instinctively, striving to maintain a pride and aloofness that couldn’t be pried into by others.

Love me, she said.

An addition, a permission, and a request.

There were some words she hadn’t wanted to say this quickly; she still wasn’t accustomed to placing her habits of coming and going alone to another’s hands, but she didn’t have any other options, and didn’t want to wait any more.

The phrase “where the water flows, a canal is formed” was by no means meant to signify time; if there was one who used a shovel to dig a tunnel through to your heart, there wasn’t a reason to keep holding back the river.

Song Shijiu forced herself to blink, her breastbone shuddering, and soon after, there was a ge-deng, ge-deng, as if a hundred looms were weaving cloth day and night, and what they were weaving was her broken and disordered love, and the weaver was Li Shiyi, before her, with lowered brows and restrained eyes.

The thing she’d awaited so long had finally arrived, and yet the feeling it brought along wasn’t that of one’s wishes being fulfilled, but an incredible self-denial. She looked at Li Shiyi, breathing sluggishly, and said, “What do you mean?”

Li Shiyi lowered her gaze, reaching out a hand to tug at her right hand, entwining her fingers between hers one at a time, and then pressing the hollow of her palm against hers, firmly bringing them together. She raised her gaze to look at Song Shijiu. “There are some matters that only I can teach you. The Dongshan of ‘returning to office after living as a hermit on Mount Dongshan’ is Kuaji’s Dongshan; the Li of ‘plum in favour of peaches in return’ is Li Shiyi’s Li.”

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Translator's notes:

[1]: A type of fine writing paper originally from Jing county in Xuancheng, Anhui.