Chapter 103: Yet with the xiansheng's closed jade coffin (XIV)

Song Shijiu suddenly understood; in the affection between her and Li Shiyi, there had never been a need to argue about who was right or wrong; all she needed was for Li Shiyi to care about her. Just as then, what caused her to have a hard time resisting had never been Li Shiyi's attitude towards right and wrong, but that phrase of her "acting impetuously". And now, this phrase of Li Shiyi's "alright" caused her previous resentment to disappear entirely, and caused her frame to loosen, her heart to soften, truly becoming a water snake, curved and laying on its abdomen, happily clinging to her, hugging and kissing her.

She was just this sort of unreasonable woman, just this sort of inexperienced woman; right and wrong weren't as great as her willingness, good and bad, black and white, none of it as good as her love. She gazed earnestly at Li Shiyi's features, carefully considering why she would love her like this.

It was because her brows were like green hills, her eyes like lakes, and her skin like snow of Mount Changbai, twined with rolling clouds, her lips like the sweet fruits in a forest, dewdrops atop them. She bit those sweet fruits, and felt that there was nothing like them at all; there wasn't any fruit that was more delectable than Li Shiyi, more fragrant, more able to cause her to be infatuated, head over heels in love.

Intertwined breaths gradually grew hotter and hotter, the small tamed beast's hands exploring everywhere, from naked shoulders following down the spine, playing with the caves and mountains of her vertebra, counting them cun by cun; this was the backbone of her life, supporting her etiquette, discipline, and thoughts.

Further down, sleek dimples in her back like the rim of a bowl, satiny skin gradually becoming rough, linking layer after layer of covered scales, her waist trembling heavily when Li Shiyi touched those scles, like a fish that had been pushed onto the shore by the ocean spray. The fish, removed from the waters, its mouth opening and closing, incredibly thirsty. Song Shijiu and Li Shiy's necks tangling, scales opening and closing, incredibly thirsty.

Li Shiyi's hands gently and carefully caressed her armour, so even her nails occasionally touched the tender flesh beneath the scales, though on the surface, she showed no interest towards her true figure; she didn't lower her head to look, only using her hands to slowly stroke, her gaze firmly hooking Song Shijiu, yet it was as if she were judging her from inside out.

Song Shijiu was rendered unable to resist by passion, the tip of her tail trembling, brushing impatient traces across the floor. This was the nature of her returning to a beast; releasing her instincts, her wild nature, and her untamedness.

Regardless of form, the control and training of these hands couldn't be hidden; they caused her love, her desire, to rush forth with a state that even gods and Buddhas struggled to resist. She'd finally returned once more to the mountains and fields, her chaotic heartbeat the rumbling of frogs in a pond, the slick, fragrant sweat the droplets boring through stone, her thoughts the stars which filled the heavens, flickering and flashing, unfathomable, numerous and dense, like a sheet of loose sand. And Li Shiyi's hands were the deep, shining Milky Way, the order of the chaos, the organisation amidst the fragments, the certainty amidst the unfathomable, the possibility amongst the impossible.

She called out to her, gasping and hoarse and low, "Shiyi, Shiyi."

Song Shijiu suddenly understood her own selfishness, concealed for so long beneath the surface. Xiao Douding called her "Shiyi-jiejie"; Chun Ping called her "Shiyi-jiejie"; and she, herself, from the time she'd gained consciousness, had only called her "Shiyi". It was the unconscious premonition of destiny, the premonition of needing to foolishly, tangledly, softly call out to her now. If there hadn't been etiquette from the start, then in the future, there would be no blame for the hasty pretext.

The second day, Tu Laoyao finished simmering the meat, and invited the women out to eat noodles; Li Shiyi answered the door, and Tu Laoyao turned towards the other one, having just raised his hand, when Chun Ping, having just opened the door, called out a greeting.

Chun Ping had always woken early, and had grown used to living with Song Shijiu; for a while, she hadn't covered her face; seeing Tu Laoyao, her expression, not fully awoken, froze, and then her hands cupped her face, tightly covering up her lips and nose. "You can't see me," she said, closing her eyes, lashes fluttering anxiously.

"I saw you," Tu Laoyao disagreed.

Chun Ping opened her eyes, and then hurriedly closed them once more, mumbling, "You didn't see me clearly."

Tu Laoyao was cheerful. "How could I not have seen you clearly? Double lidded eyes, sharp brows, a rounded nose and a chick's mouth, looking like a rat." His comparisons were always blind, using whatever he could grasp at, and only once he'd finished speaking did he notice a fantastic oddity in the descriptions.

Chun Ping, on the other hand, hadn't taken note of this, and only covered up her face, upset; this Tu Lao-shu's eyesight was even blunter than an old, rusted knife, yet his eyes flickered rapidly. So, she put her hand down, not struggling anymore, and only said to Tu Laoyao, "I'm not from here; Shijiu-jiejie urged me to not let others see my face."

"If I saw it, so what?" Tu Laoyao didn't understand. "Will you chop off my head?" According to the books, if a notorious bandit or pirate showed his face, then one would have to be killed to prevent them from sharing the secret. But he'd only drawn in half a chilling breath, when he doubted that this little girl, as weak as a puppy, could she extinguish Tu-yeye?

Chun Ping only cast him an aggrieved look, shaking her head and tightening her face mask.

Everyone had only just gathered, when when Xiao Douding's shuffling steps hurried over; after Song Shijiu had drawn out the worms the day before, some of his vitality had returned, and he wound around the table, huffing and puffing, and anxiously guarded his bowl of noodle soup.

"How come you woke up early to make noodles?" Li Shiyi asked, nasal and muffled. Song Shijiu's cough was also nasal and muffled.

"Today's the thirtieth," Tu Laoyao chuckled, giving everyone a ladle of minced meat.

This was his wife's heirloom craft; tofu, pickles, and minced pork, place a piece of lard to fry an aroma, and then drop in a few eggs, and cook in a covered vessel beneath the hot water, then use cornstarch to thicken the soup, and that would cause a salty fragrance to be absorbed. Although today was missing the meat and lard, he'd made it simple; in whatever case, bustle was bustle.

Only once Tu Laoyao spoke did everyone realise that it was actually Chuxi;^[1] they hadn't been able to go out for many days, and, at the same time, the village had been full of the ill for months; firecrackers hadn't been prepared, and spring festival couplets hadn't been pasted up; there wasn't the slightest feeling of the New Year's atmosphere.

With lives so brief, who was still passing the New Year's?

Xiao Douding held up his noodles, not picking up chopsticks, lapping first at the broth on the surface, and narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue, and then looked at Tu Laoyao. "Tu-shu, you should make a firecracker!"

This youngster, he truly didn't act formally at all; Tu Laoyao laughed at him. "You really are obstinate."

Xiao Douding shook his head. "My father said, firecrackers are the beasts that chase the year away. You make the firecracker, and I'll carry it into the village and run a lap, and scare away the plague beast; maybe it'll scare it to death."

"You running about with it," Tu Laoyao remonstrated him, "one shouldn't speak of the plague beast; you'd be killed by the explosion first."

Yet Xiao Douding wasn't scared in the slightest, and lowered his head, thinking, and then said, "If I die, then I die; as long as Sanshu and my aunt life, then that's fine."

Li Shiyi's chopsticks paused, and she heard Song Shijiu ask, "Why is that?"

Xiao Douding said, "Sanshu is a good person; the new well in the village was dug by him, and good people ought not have their lives cut short. I'm not a good person; I've burnt eggs."

Song Shijiu stilled, and raised a hand to stroke his head.

The liveliness couldn't be maintained more than half the day; by evening, the moon had grown lone and isolated. Tu Laoyao had actually made a "firecracker" for Xiao Douding, cutting a few bamboo joints, making holes in the middle, stringing them together with hemp twine, tying them onto his waist, and when he ran, the bamboo pipes would knock against each other in a clatter, unexpectedly rather like the sound of a firecracker.

Xiao Douding was unable to contain his joy, and he ran about madly with the bamboo pipes, turning circles around everyone in the house, and then ran out onto the clear, cold streets, yelling as he ran, going from house to house to chase away the plague beast.

The clattering sound gradually grew distant; Tu Laoyao gradually drew back his attention, sitting in by the courtyard along with Chun Ping, gazing at the stars and staying up all night. He didn't have melon seeds or broad beans at hand or anything, and he was somewhat unaccustomed to it, and could only absentmindedly beat his calves, not knowing who it was who asked, "What do you think Sanshun is doing? Say, do you think Yin-danainai and that foolish Yama have eaten dumplings?"

No one answered him, only Chun Ping's head resting against the corridor, stroking her own forehead over and over.

Song Shijiu and Li Shiyi emerged from the room, both having switched into dark tunics and pants; under the moon's image, they were as vigorous in style as calligraphy. Song Shijiu had brushed her hair to one side, and Li Shiyi, for a rare turn, had gathered her hair into a high ponytail.

The dark metal fan, Fu Guang, turned in Song Shijiu's hand; Li Shiyi's hands were empty, and she put on gloves with an exasperating slowness. The two instructed Tu Laoyao with a couple words, and then were about to left. Before they'd even crossed the threshold, they heard Chun Ping call out from behind, "Shijiu-jiejie."

Song Shijiu turned her head to look at her.

Chun Ping cast a glance at Tu Laoyao, and then pressed against her own cheeks; she wanted to ask Song Shijiu why, though Tu Laoyao had seen her this morning, and Tu Laoyao wasn't someone from Chongqing, but someone she'd run into afterwards, she hadn't gotten a fever.

She ordered her thoughts, not speaking for a long time; when she raised her head again, she saw Song Shijiu smiling placatingly; she said, "Tell me when we return."

-

< LAST | HOME | NEXT >

 

-

Translator's notes:

[1]: Lunar New Year's Eve.