Chapter 60: Who sent my longing to Du Heng? (IX)

Under A Luo’s frankness, A Yin became timid, her gaze falling and about to go out. Yet A Luo pulled at her wrist, once more dragging her back into her embrace, her orchid-graceful neck lowered, a kiss pressing against her light and wild chin.

In the neatly constructed garden, there wasn’t even a single cup lantern, the clusters of grass becoming a deep green, occasionally wrapping around early autumn fallen leaves. Yet the “wa-ya-ya” calls shattered this tranquility, causing the fallen leaves to curl their bodies up and shiver. Tu Laoyao gazed at the captured little ghost, copper bell eyes and an ox’s nose, a large mouth which stretched to its ears, a pointed hat on its head, its body wrapped in a bright red changpao. “How does it look this ugly, eh?” he muttered to himself in a quiet voice.

Just then, the Xu Hao had walked quietly on tiptoe, winding out from the garden, and had just been about to climb the foot of the wall and enter A Luo’s room, yet it had just shifted a step when Li Shiyi raised a hand and drawn around all sides an enclosure-like layer of flaming talismans, the flaming circle throwing off fierce sparks, and the Xu Hao halted as if having been seized by the back of its neck, its raised leg unable to move a single step. In the miscellany of the Yiwen, it had been written that the Xu Hao didn’t like light, and therefore it was only in the night that it roamed about; if it encountered brightness, its movements would become sluggish.

Li Shiyi took advantage of its lack of reaction, rapidly erecting four Zhong Kui^[1] figures outside the circle of flame, a faint blue light burning underneath, the smoke and fire burning the Xu Hao such that it wailed in anguish and covered its eyes, as if a rat that had been struck by fire tongs, immediately rolling about.

“It’s afraid of this,” Song Shijiu said quietly from the side.

Li Shiyi drew back her right had, which had spread the talismans in a burst, customarily wiping away the lingering soot on her fingers behind her back, and nodded, saying, “The Tang Yishi says in it that it was Zhong Kui who Xuanzong invited who tore the Xu Hao in two, devouring it in a single mouthful.”

“Since he devoured it, how did it appear once more now?” Song Shijiu knitted her brows.

Li Shiyi explained, “As the Xu Hao is a ghost spirit, it’s born of concentrated essence; when the mortal world has severity it becomes the empty Xu, and the gathered evils bear a consuming Hao; on dying, it is revived, and exists for a long time without being exterminated.” Having just spoken those words, that Xu Hao raised its snivelling face, struggling to crawl outwards; it had just stretched out a hand when it met red pants and black boots, above which rose a round, protruding belly and a confident changpao and a glaring, curly-bearded iron mask.

Zhong Kui-daren swayed with an official’s cap, baring his teeth to the other, his right hand striking down heavily, smashing against the surface of the drum held in his left hand, an explosive cry erupting, drumming until its vision was blurred and it was faint, its legs weakening and kneeling on the ground.

“Da…Da Da Da Daren!” The Xu Hao drew inwards, shaking like chaff being sifted, repeatedly kowtowing.

Tu Laoyao put on the affectation of rubbing his beard, facing Li Shiyi with and winking as if having pulled a tendon; Li Shiyi, her face nerve paralysis-still, tilted her head: develop it yourself.

Tu Laoyao understood tacitly, and struck the drum again, clenching his gut, and fiercely and viciously reprimanded it: “Be honest!”

“Ai, ai,” the Xu Hao bowed repeatedly with its hands held before it.

Tu Laoyao exchanged a glance with Li Shiyi, and gave the drum to the attentively watching Wu Qian, ordering it that it was not to leave the circle, and then strode with feet splayed outwards and a good deal of confidence to Li Shiyi and Song Shijiu’s side, and cleared his throat. “How’s that?”

Li Shiyi didn’t reply, and pulled Song Shijiu to the table, as discussed at lunch, waiting for A Luo to come out to strategise. The peanut shells on the tabletop had been piled into a small mountain, and in the crisp sound of melon seeds, the Xu Hao gradually regained its spirit, and its lips smacked as it shrank inside the circle of fire, yet the two people inside still hadn’t come out.

“It’s almost been long enough to finish a cup of tea,” Tu Laoyao said, carrying Zhong Kui-daren’s face, spreading his legs and putting his hands on his knees, his spine as straight as a pine tree, coveting the melon seeds in Li Shiyi and Song Shijiu’s hands.

He’d just spoken when he saw, in the circle, the Xu Hao stretch out its neck and raise its head in the direction of A Luo’s room and sniff, seeming to have received something which caused it to be lured in and captivated with its spirit and soul upside down, sighing out with drooping eyelids, “Truly joyful.”

“What joy?” Tu Laoyao asked the other in a rough voice.

The Xu Hao’s ears twitched, its heart yearning unbearably. “One woman is joyful, and the other is joyful as well. The one being embraced is joyful—aiya, that’s not right, it seems like that one is a bit more joyful.” The hammer in its heart kept striking, inducing a greed which it couldn’t scent nor touch, causing it to suffer greatly. It rose, clasping its hands behind its back, and it turned unsteady circles in the enclosure. “So urgent, so urgent, so urgent.”

It turned a full forty or fifty circled, turning until Tu Laoyao was dizzied, and only then did the two people within the room appear. They came out one at the front, the other behind, A Yin with her head unusually lowered, wrapped in a thin, tasselled shawl, her crossed hands hugging her chest, sniffing her slightly-blocked nose. Behind her ear and her neck were wet with perspiration, seeming as if to enclose her beauty in mist.

A Luo was behind, still pure and pale, a white magnolia which hadn’t even been blown, her expression not strange in the slightest, except it seemed her eyes faintly followed the curly, soft hair at the back of A Yin’s head. The two didn’t utter a single word, yet in this strange ambience, Song Shijiu’s face inexplicably flushed, and she turned her head and coughed slightly. When she turned back, she met Li Shiyi’s clear gaze, and Song Shijiu’s eyes glistened, and Li Shiyi pressed her thin lips together.

A Yin lazily sat across, her bones seeming to have been warmed, and she supported her forehead, body twisting, not wanting to say even half a phrase. It was A Luo who instructed Wu Qian to grab the horn hidden beneath the Xu Hao’s pointed cap, pulling it forward; the Xu Hao furtively sized her up for a good while, and seeing the Shentu command on her waist, it was shocked as if having been struck by a gong, and only after being foolishly dazed for a couple moments did it, with useless hands and legs, kneel down, deferentially and respectfully saying, “Futi-daren!”

A Yin, laying across the table, lifted her eyelids to sweep a glance at the serious A Luo. She was still delicate and agreeable, yet despite not being angry, carried a somewhat awing smile, and said to the Xu Hao quietly, “It’s been a great many years since we met; your skills have progressed a not insignificant amount.” Her words left some leeway, enough that the Xu Hao thought of the time during Song Huizong’s^[2] era when it had stolen into Yama-daren’s residence and stolen one of her servant’s happiness, and afterwards had been sent into a vat of oil by a gentle, soft beauty to be fried for a full hundred years.

Cold sweat was far more aware of the situation than it was, and a sour stench soaked and seeped out from its red gown. Yet it saw Song Shijiu, who had been in a secret place the entire time, come forward, ordering her chaotic mood, and lightly stooped down to look at it. “I remember.” She furrowed her brows, and said, “That day, you climbed through the window to look for me to speak with, and even had me look at…”

“What is it?” Li Shiyi uttered.

The Xu Hao pondered briefly; this woman’s attire wasn’t very eyecatching, and her adornment also wasn’t one that sought the limelight, yet Yama-daren waited for her, seemingly with a great deal of courtesy; just then, she’d even personally poured a cup of tea for her. It didn’t require much attentive though; it kowtowed with a loud bang, narrating in full detail by fives and tens, “Originally, I wandered about on Mount She; yet, one night, I was roused by this woman’s joy, and I followed her journey back to this residence, and hid for a number of days, wanting to steal away her joy; yet, I hadn’t imagined that her joy was unexpectedly incredibly secure; I sat at the head of her bed, and in her dreams, I was locked in a two way struggle for a while; she unexpectedly wouldn’t give it to me.”

“That joy, what was it?” Tu Laoyao asked.

The Xu Hao was frightened by Zhong Kui-daren such that it almost jumped, and with a trembling voice, said, “She said, she said there was a woman who had kissed her.”

Everyone was silent in full awareness; Li Shiyi raised a hand, pressing her fingers against her nose.

As the Xu Hao spoke, its enthusiasm returned, and it shook all over like spilled beans. “So I thought of a solution, and followed that woman who had kissed her, and saw, unexpectedly, that she undid her clothes before another woman; I was unable to contain my joy, and hurriedly took the image, spitting it before that original woman, pointing at it for her to look at.”

This woman and that woman; its speech was somewhat confused. The Xu Hao was flustered, and didn’t much dare to raise its head to attentively observe, and didn’t know that three women were unexpectedly all there, and was also totally unaware that everyone had grown even quiet. Tu Laoyao gasped in shock, feeling a chill run down his spine, and then immediately closed his mouth tight, only a thin crack of his eyes showing, and secretly took measure of the surroundings.

“That woman’s face immediately went deathly pale, and she tossed about like Jin Douzi;^[3] I seized the opportunity to steal her joy away, disappearing like a wisp of smoke.” The Xu Hao lowered its head, waiting for the arrival of judgement.

Finally, Li Shiyi broke the silence, and asked it, “Her joy, where is it?”

“In my hat,” the Xu Hao said, taking off its hat and gazing into it.

“Take it out and give it back to her,” Wu Qian said.

“Ai,” the Xu Hao replied, sitting down on its buttocks, and slowly fished about in its hat. It was a bottomless pit filled to the brim with treasures; it fished about with a great deal of effort, fearing that the few daren would be angry, and simply turned its hat over and shook it, fishing about as it threw things out.

What it threw out resembled the mirrage of a full moon, an embroidered embroidery frame, embroidered with each multicoloured, gorgeous cheerful happening. Beiping’s master had taken a new concubine, Shandong’s guniang had borne a big, plump child, Yunnan’s lad had acquired a dan^[4] of rice, Sichuan’s elder with rhinitis had met a supernatural doctor. As it looked, it shook its head, taking the lively, loud happy occasions and tossing them all over the ground.

Everyone also advanced all around, attentively looking; yet Song Shijiu suddenly discovered that there was something unusual within. That was a young master’s cheer at enjoying the beautiful spring scenery and frequenting brothels; within it, there was a prostitute with a hundred charms and a thousand delicacies, looking incredibly familiar. Her heart trembled, and she hurried to shift her steps and cover it up, yet she saw A Luo reaching out a hand, grabbing A Yin, who had yet so see it, supporting her head to lower and press against her own shoulder, cutting off her line of sight, after which she lowered her gentle and tender gaze.

Song Shijiu met her gaze, then righted her head, pinching that thing in her palm, and hid it at the very bottom.

“Found it!” The Xu Hao rose, holding up a large, glass-like sphere. Song Shijiu’s happiness was a bit more than all the others’, and the Xu Hao weighed it in hand, incredibly unwilling to part with it. “Tell me, you young lady, how did you live this happily, eh?” it couldn’t help but complain; if it hadn’t been greedy for this joy, it was unlikely to have been caught. Song Shijiu, who had been mentioned, turned around, crouching down; it rose up behind her, pressing the sphere against the back of her neck, its mouth muttering to itself, the long experience bringing a fragrant and sweet joy, dripping into Song Shijiu’s body like quicksand.

That joy permeated everything with its brilliance, every one of its scenes Li Shiyi.

“Tu Laoyao smiling like that doesn’t look nice; you smiling like this is nice to look at.”

“If I tell a great many falsehoods right away, could I die at the same time as you?”

“I’m not human, and I don’t fear being resurrected; I’m not a ghost, either, and reciting scripture isn’t effective; what are you preparing to scare me with, that could make not like you, then?”

“When the sun sets behind the mountains, the heavens are the most tender, and can wait for that person.”

“You ask a question, already knowing the answer.”

—I like that you ask a question, already knowing the answer.

The dialogue was vivid in her mind, returning a phrase; Li Shiyi’s heart softened a cun, and her ribs reverberated as if the tides were pushing between them, causing her gaze at Song Shijiu to be like warm tea.

The sparks fully dispersed, and Song Shijiu opened her eyes, the expression on her face still not having returned to its original position, such that it was even more numb than it had been before; Li Shiyi reached out a hand to tug at her wrist, and asked her, “How is it?”

Song Shijiu opened her eyes wide, not yet having the ability to speak, and then suddenly covered her mouth, rising to run into the room. Li Shiyi was about to follow, yet A Luo used her gaze to restrain her. “She’ll be well after vomiting a few times.” Her servant girl from before was like this as well.

A Luo, seeing that Li Shiyi couldn’t put her mind at ease, commanded Wu Qian to take the Xu Hao out and throw it away; the Xu Hao’s eyes spun about, hardly believing it. “Daren isn’t punishing me?”

A Luo pointed in the direction Song Shijiu had disappeared in, and said with a soft smile, “I’m not punishing you; someday, when she thinks of it, she’ll punish you.”

The Xu Hao shivered, clammy, heart alarmed and trembling in fear, unable to speak.

Everyone was tossing and turning from side to side, and were already incredibly tired; with a brief few phrases of goodbyes, they scattered in all directions to rest. Li Shiyi, in the darkness, leaned against the stairs; everywhere was completely silent, not even the river sounding; Song Shijiu had gone into the restroom, and hadn’t made any more movements. She waited quietly for a while, not knowing whether she should step forward and knock on the door. These few days, she’d waited for Song Shijiu to be completely well, comforting herself that it was because of the illness, intentionally indulging her own tenderness and propriety; now that Song Shijiu was well, she unexpectedly had a bit of an inability to grasp at propriety. If she were too enthusiastic, it would seem like she was a bit impatient; if she were too indifferent, they would become estranged again. She hesitated in a rare event, and became unusually affected.

She had just become at a loss within, when she suddenly heard there was someone before her calling out, “Li Shiyi!”

She raised her head; Song Shijiu was standing before her, her eyes curved as she smiled. She stood in the image of the moon, eyes bright and teeth white, her fluid glance roaming about, smiling familiarly yet unfamiliarly. What was familiar was her curved brows and eyes, and the unfamiliar was the expression faint upon the edges of her mouth. From the clean, bright smile of Song Shijiu’s, a delicate charm caused the heavens and the earth to lose their colours; now, she’d learned to aloofly press together her lips, drawing the corners of her mouth into a full arc, smiling as a cool breeze in the night, as amorous as a dream.

In childhood, Li Shiyi had learned to cook; shifu had told her, if you add a bit of salt, you can better bring out the sweetness. Now, looking at Song Shijiu, she realised that, having experienced some worry, she could better draw out the clear, sweet aftertaste caused by the person before her.

In Song Shijiu’s smile, she relaxed her heavy shoulders, and dispelled all useless disturbances.

Song Shijiu held a pomegranate-red, dark and beautiful smile, asking her, “How come you don’t come over, and only gaze at me? I’m well, yet you don’t treat me as if I’m well; yesterday was a plan of convenience, was it?”

Li Shiyi smiled as well, leaning her back against the wall. “When did I say these sorts of words?”

The corners of Song Shijiu’s eyes curved once more, yet she didn’t budge, only distantly standing upright. “Then how come you don’t pull me along anymore, and don’t embrace me anymore?”

Li Shiyi also broadened the curve of her mouth, and said, “How come you don’t pull me along, and don’t embrace me?”

Song Shijiu laughed, unable to stop herself from rushing forward anymore, and embraced her arm, heading upstairs with her. “The words that you declared to me, could you say them again? That time I was sick, and missed the opportunity to be joyful.”

“No.”

“Just now, you were waiting for me, weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t.”

“I’ll still sleep with you, is that alright?”

“It’s not.”

Before falling asleep, in this phrase of “it’s not”, Song Shijiu laid in Li Shiyi’s bosom, searching for a cosy position, her hand on Li Shiyi’s wwaist, and after not too long, restlessly placed it on her chest. Li Shiyi still didn’t react in the least, yet this time, Li Shiyi hadn’t fallen asleep, and she knew it.

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Translator's notes:

[1]: A mythological figure supposed to drive away evil spirits.

[2]: Eighth and second to last emperor of the Song dynasty, r. 28th February 1100 to 18th January 1126.

[3]: From the story 金豆子, where a farmer comes upon a magic bean which puts him in many predicaments.

[4]: A measurement equalling one hundred litres.