Extra 2: Meng Po (1)

"Take me back to the Taishan Prefecture," A Yin said, her handkerchief hitting the tabletop with a "pa".

Across from her, Li Shiyi, tidying up the books, had just briefly flipped through a couple ancient texts, and raised her gaze to look at her. A Yin's mouth pulled to the side, revealing a seldom-seen weakness. A Luo had returned to the Taishan Prefecture to deal with affairs; it had already been over a month, and, since Li Shiyi and Song Shijiu had both returned to Shanghai, she had disappeared without any correspondence, not even a greeting having been sent back. Today, she'd gone to see an opera, the story's contents of a top scorer in the exams looking for scholarly honour, having forgotten his wife who had gone through the hardships of poverty; she'd had that flower cap,^[1] the beautiful, delicate wife; how could she have remembered the Wang Baochuan, who'd gone through freezing and fires for eighteen years?^[2]

The grievance in A Yin's eyes had been crushed into pieces from being turned over and over, and the shift of her chin also showed her sense of having been wronged. Li Shiyi set the inexplicable to the side, and only said, "The living aren't permitted in the Prefecture."

A Yin interrupted her. "I've thought of it; you can take out my hun spirit of life, and place it in that Shentu token, and return it in a couple days; that way, it will definitely deceive them, and I can slip in on the sly."

Even these two chengyu, though not used incorrectly, were clearly deeply agitated. Without waiting for Li Shiyi to react, she bit the edge of her lip, and thrust in another sentence. "As the Fujun-daren of remarkable abilities, bringing a little ghost into Taishan, could it be that that's still not enough? If it's not enough, then you're acting as the Fujun in vain; if it's enough, but you're not willing, then I'll have been your childhood friend in vain."

It was incredibly reasonable; Song Shijiu nodded her head.

Li Shiyi cast a glance at Li Shiyi, and then pulled the Shentu token out, her ring finger knocking against its surface, calling forth Tu Laoyao, who appeared like a ghost light. Tu Laoyao sat cross-legged, eyes seeming still drowsy with sleep, and immediately said, "What?"

A Yin came forward, bumping him with a shoulder, and said, "It's urgent."

It was full March now, the orioles taking flight and the grass growing, the willow trees verdant, the dikes rippling with the spring breeze, just as the Taishan Prefecture had added these new, beautiful, delicate flowers, waists graceful and steps like smoke, the beautiful scenery of the lands south of the Yangtze river.

A Yin had never seen Taishan like this before; even the four seasons were identical to the ones in the mortal realm, the seventy-five great and small underworld divisions like provinces and towns strewn at random, following along the Yellow Springs, the hazy, dark Yellow Springs like a great, winding snake, its body wrapped around the division of Life and Death in the middle. The people in the Life and Death division were few, the street's construction entirely in the Song fashion; besides the occasional, sporadic passersby, all the others were the lone stands that Song Shijiu had, in the past, regarded with disdain.

A Yin entered the Life and Death division; it was as if the first time entering Sijiucheng, and she looked here and glanced there, everything novel. Li Shiyi, at one side, wore a snow-white, cross-collared cheongsam, her raven hair partially gathered, her face still its usual paralysing aloofness, yet to A Yin, it looked somewhat magnificent and dignified.

Li Shiyi hadn't headed towards her own hall, but took A Yin directly to Futi Hall. It had been a bit of a while since she'd left Taishan, and the original courtyard had become desolate; now, with the divisions under her control all having their own duties, the cases she judged weren't many, so she had simply moved to Futi Hall, and lived together with A Luo.

Only now did A Yin finally see A Luo; she'd plaited her hair into a long braid on one side, her matte black cheongsam wrapping around her curvaceous waist, and she was engrossed in writing. The underworld had returned the vitality to her that had been lost in the mortal realm, like a thousand year old mural filled in with cinnabar once more, the simplicity and magnificence contrasting just right, a dense, penetrating brightness radiating suffusing her entire figure. A Yin gazed at her; no matter how she looked at her, she liked everything, like an invaluable porcelain stolen from out of a grave, cautiously and gently held in her hands as she dusted off the countless years of dust, realising that it was even more beautiful than she had imagined.

If she were to see an antique she took a fancy to, she'd always exclaim in admiration about the fine delicacy of the handiwork of forebearers, but seeing A Luo, who she'd taken a fancy to, she truly didn't know who she ought to be praising.

A Luo caught the scent of a familiar, warm fragrance first; the wings of her nose fluttered, and only then did she raise her head and look. A Yin clutched at the buttons on the side of her qipao, her shoulders shifting back and forth, and, as she twisted them, she felt that this peony style wasn't fashionable enough. Her coyness caused A Luo to smile, gone in an instant, and then A Luo lowered her head, and tilted the top of her brush, indicating the empty scroll-end chair across from her. "Sit."

People often said that reunion after an absence was sweeter than being newleyweds, yet A Luo was always this measured, no matter the time, etiquette first and passion later; it caused A Yin's anticipation to have no way, no way to wrap around her neck in a warm implication, to use the tip of her foot to wind around her glossy calf with her straining thoughts. A Luo was separated by the incense, reading through cases as she spoke to A Yin in a low voice, her voice rustling like silk worm caterpillars devouring the mulberry leaves in A Yin's mind.

A Yin felt that she couldn't bear this neither distant nor intimate seduction of hers any longer, and because her official business was numerous, was about to simply leave. A Yin replied, and ordered Wu Qian to take her along to go wander about; A Yin had just said "I'll leave now, then", about to turn around, when the signal of her gaze she'd left behind was called upon by A Luo. A Luo extended a hand to her, grasping at her chilly fingers, stroking back and forth over them thrice, and only then let go, dragging her finger along her palm, and said mildly, "Walk slowly."

A Yin agreed weakly, even the final syllable incredibly soft. Only on leaving Futi Hall did A Yin come alive again, and she placed the palm that A Luo had scratched against her face; words of desire were still stopped for a time, but joy seeped out richly. She attached her handkerchief to the buttons of her qipao, and called out to Tu Laoyao, passing by, "Is there something going on?"

Tu Laoyao raised his gaze to look at her, and seeing her, chin raised slightly, expression somewhat haughty, the image somewhat amusing, asked her, "What is it?"

A Yin, seeing he was lazing about, pulled him to her side, and talked to him in a low voice. "I say, this Taishan Prefecture, where's a shop selling pastries? Ones that are a bit higher in quality, get them for me. Just now, I asked Wu Qian for a list of names, and have the top three send two orders, and the others one each; be a bit attentive, they can't be any lacking or missing at all."

Tu Laoyao looked over the list that A Yin passed over again and again, and blinked beady eyes. "For what?"

A Yin didn't reply, only patiently and systematically asking him, "Take a look at me; now that I've come to Taishan Prefecture, what ought you call me?"

"A Yin," Tu Laoyao said promptly.

A Yin wanted to spit at him, and hurriedly corrected him. "Yin-danainai." A Yin drew a deep breath, and gazed at him with the look for gazing at fools; two fingers pointed at the three characters of "Futi Hall", and then she raised one of her brows.

Tu Laoyao understood. "Yama-xi…furen."

A Yin's eyes curved, and she bit her lower lip, holding in her smile., yet didn't reply calmly and confidently, only rubbed her silk handkerchief, tilting her face, and only after a while did she turn around, her words still somewhat charming. "You're actually someone who understands reason, that's good. It took a lot of pains to come here, so naturally I have to grasp the principles, and greet her subordinates, as if becoming acquainted with all of them."

"Oh!" Tu Laoyao stretched the syllable out incredibly long, as if having dropped a number of uncooked eggs.

A Yin cleared her throat, and hurried him along. "How about you get going."

Futi Hall had never before been this bustling; Wu Qian-daren, who in the past hadn't spoken much, awkwardly called the crowd of people into the anteroom; there was a woman clad in a red qipao in the hall, Shentu-daren who followed after the Fujun by her side, and the woman was politely greeting and asking after them one by one, and then saying that in the courtyard, there were a couple banquet tables, and a few mahjong tables, and everyone could celebrate and feast together.

The minor ghostly officials under Wu Qian were still pondering, when they were pressed into sitting down at the mahjong table, what exactly it was that was being celebrated. The minor officials looked at each other in dismay, gulping down a mouthful of wine and then looking at that woman, furtively exchanging glances and then stroking the tiles. Having been tugged around like this a few times, they saw Wu Qian-daren had yet to give any other instructions, only sitting upright and still as he tossed out a five bing tile, and only at this did they return their hearts back to their stomachs, and, with a clatter, began to play mahjong.

A Yin, seeing the bustling jubilations, was deeply pleased, her waist swaying like a serpentine river, interacting like the ripples of a fragrant breeze, going now to call for another jar of aged wine, and then going to hang about a playing table and talk idly about important matters. Tu Laoyao, face wrinkled, stood at the courtyard's threshold, watching her, dizzied by the scenery of flowers and butterflies such that his eyes her.

Only about half a shichen later did A Yin raise her hand and come over, a swing in her hips, her gaze lifting him up, and took a graceful step out of Futi Hall. Shoulder to shoulder, they walked out to the street, the sound of clamour gradually hidden away, and only then did A Yin's back slump, and she clutched her aching lower back, rubbing at her face, which had gone stiff from smiling, pressing her lips out a couple times, and only then did she as Tu Laoyao, "How was it?"

"How was what?"

"Wasn't I like Commander Lu's wife?" The wives of high officials and nobles could beguile anyone's hearts, and they all seemed to have long sleeves to dance beautifully, money and power helping them in their occupation.

What Commander Lu's wife was like, Tu Laoyao couldn't imagine, but he looked at A Yin, who'd bitten even her gums to an ache, and felt that it was trully excessive. But naturally, he didn't dare say it.

Once they'd finished greeting colleagues, this lady here thought of another matter hanging on her heart; she didn't know if this was because A Luo had returned to Taishan Prefecture over a month ago, but was she still waited on by that delicate, charming rose myrtle? If she was, then this moth would become a year, worrying her heart. She clutched at her handkerchief and turned her hand over, bracing her waist, but only ordered Tu Laoyao to go find her and bring her to take a look, a good degree like a primary wife catching a charming fox.^[3] Yet Tu Laoyao's expression grew complicated, and he pulled her in a beeline to Naihe Bridge, gazing at the crowded, lovely scene of blossoming rose myrtles at its foot, and pointed. "Look."

A Yin stilled. "What do you mean?"

Tu Laoyao tugged her into a crouch. "I don't know which one; she ought to be a newly-grown one, I don't know whether or not she can speak."

A Yin was just hesitating, when she heard a fine, thin one from there, leaves trembling, call out to her. "A Yin-guniang."

A Yin couldn't make heads or tails of it, and pushed at those tender young leaves, as if unable to stand being moved back and forth, and tilted her face to ask Tu Laoyao, "How come she's become like this?"

Tu Laoyao, sitting on the free space by her side, narrated the entirety of it systematically and in detail. The jaw of A Yin-furen, who had originally been aggressive and overbearing, dropped, and her expression softened as well; she twisted her handkerchief once and then again, not saying anything for a long while, and only after a good dea of time did she extended a hand to dig at the soil by the side, piling it up on A Tao's fine, tender runners, as if wanting to cover her up a bit more warmly. As she added the dirt, she sighed, and said softly, "Your relationship really is deep." She considered a moment, and then added, "I'm not someone who can't tolerate others either; it would be reasonable to say that, if we were to follow the old traditions, and I were to join the household on marriage as the wife, I ought to see you as my younger sister; that would be nothing."

Tu Laoyao was quite startled, and stared at her with wide eyes. A Yin shot him an eyeroll, and then said gently to A Tao, "But A Luo isn't the same; I haven't been married to her, and I truly love her, and so, I can't stand you."

This matter of two hearts being mutually joyous, saying it was fortunate, it would be fortunate, and if it were said to be cruel, it would be cruel.

Tao Jinniang nodded her branches, rather obediently. The gratitude in A Yin mixed with guilt; she wracked her mind to think of a solution, and said, "You know as well, I'm good friends with the Fujun, and once you've become human in form, I'll ask her to pick a good one for you from the underworld essence, and gift to you, would you like that?"

Tao Jinniang's leaves trembled, and she didn't speak for a long while; Tu Laoyao's throat was stoppered up as well, and he didn't speak either.

"As long as you understand in your heart; don't tell anyone else," A Yin said, clapping her hands to brush off the dirt.

Tu Laoyao swept a glance across the field full of flowers with ears, and sighed to himself. Just as he was about to pull her up, there was an unhurried, soft call from by the Naihe Bridge. "Who's there?"

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Translator's notes:

[1]: 宫花帽, referring to the practice of the officials chosen in the imperial examinations wearing flowers at the emperor's banquet.

[2]: The opera in this case being the tale of Wang Baochuan and Xue Pinggui, also known as The Red-maned Stallion; a key plot event is Wang Baochuan running away from her wealthy family after her father breaks off her chosen marriage with Xue Pinggui, after which she lives in poverty for eighteen years.

[3]: A common trope in Chinese historical fiction is the conflict between the primary wife, and her husband's concubines or other dalliances.