TDLC Chapter 49

Terms used in TDLC Chapter 49

Hou’ye (侯爷) – Marquis.
guniang (姑娘) – young lady.
gonggong (公公) – an old and/or high-ranking eunuch.
jiejie (姐姐) – older sister.
xiaosheng (小生) – a traditional category of young male actors in Chinese opera, who tend to sing in high falsetto and tenor.
lao’ye (老爷) – master of an household.
dajia (大家) – in this context, it refers to an expert of a certain art.
shi (氏) – a suffix placed after a woman’s patronymic, kind of like -san.
Shizi (世子) – heir apparent of an aristocratic family.
gongzi (公子) – a noble’s son.
xiaojie (小姐) – young lady, with implications of being noble or one’s master.
zaixia (在下) – myself (humble).

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“Save them.”

Huò Wēi Lóu commanded with zero hesitation. Lù Kē immediately led the embroidered emissaries and rushed towards the side of the ship.

Upon reaching the ship’s side deck, two young maidservants could be seen gazing into the Lancang river with intrepid expressions. Both of them were the closest to Sòng Mèi Niáng, and witnessed her jump into the river, so their eyes had turned red due to the fright.

Lù Kē asked: “Where did she jump from?”

The young maidservant pointed at the footstool in front, “She jumped from there.”

Lù Kē shared a look with the embroidered emissaries beside him. A few of them stripped the knives and swords on their person and jumped straight into the river with one leap.

There was pandemonium on board.

With furrowed brows, Shěn Yá first ordered the unimportant ship guests to return to their cabins to rest, and only the people from the Jade Spring Troupe remained.

Boss Yu leaned on the side of the ship with tightly knitted brows, only able to see the dark and angry rolling waves of the river, but he could not spot a shadow of Sòng Mèi Niáng. Liǔ Huì Niáng stood beside him whilst draped in a cloak, observing, and she gritted her teeth to say: “Sòng jiejie really has no decorum at all; this night was supposed to be perfect and successful, yet she courts death to live on.”

“Why are you so poisonous? Sòng jiejie was half a teacher to you, without her guidance, would you be where you are today? She taught everything to you, but you don’t feel a single shred of gratitude, and keep trying to supersede her. Now her life and death are unknown, but you only care about putting up a good appearance in front of the noble guests. Why does the world have such an ungrateful person like you?”

After the curtains fell for the big play, the actors were offering tea and drinking wine, while the others were stashing away the props around the stage. Once Sòng Mèi Niáng got into an incident, the Jade Spring Troupe members all gathered on stage. The voice that just spoke was full of childishness, but it was powerful and resonating, causing everyone to turn back.

However, they were met with a young girl that was around ten years old, and it was Yuè Niáng.

Liǔ Huì Niáng turned her head back, and immediately saw Yuè Niáng. She sneered coldly, “She’s old and can’t sing anymore. If she can’t sing, she should stop singing, and yet she puts her heart and soul into pursuing these false acclamations. She taught me, but my natural endowments are here; with or without her, what relation does that bear?”

Saying that, she pointed her finger towards the bottom of the boat, “In order to save her, a few guard-brothers have jumped down. If there’s a most unfortunate occurrence, one wonders if she would be at peace as she walks down the yellow springs road.”

• 黄泉路 (pinyin: huang quan lu) – Yellow Springs Road, the underworld of Chinese mythos.

Yuè Niáng’s face turned white in anger, and was about to retort when Boss Yu yelled angrily, “All of you shut up for me, do you not find yourselves embarrassing?”

Since Huò Wēi Lóu’s entourage had returned, how could Boss Yu possibly dare to let them cause a ruckus. Since the people in charge of the rescue were dispatched by Huò Wēi Lóu, Boss Yu promptly cupped his hands and stepped forward, “Many thanks to Gongzi for his generosity and readiness to help, zaixia is truly unable to return the favour.”

Huò Wēi Lóu disregarded Boss Yu as he stood by the ship railings. He glanced down, and only saw the pitch-black surface of the river as he expected, though he could faintly make out Lù Kē and the others searching to their utmost ability, “Bring over the lit torches.”

Upon hearing those words, Shěn Yá instructed the shipworkers immediately, “Go to the first-floor deck and light some torches, to give them some light…”

Once the torches started burning, it illuminated the river surface to a certain degree. Lù Kē went into the waters as well and he could perceive four to five figures hovering on the river surface but there was not a single sign of Sòng Mèi Niáng. Lù Kē’s gaze swept back and forth, before suddenly plunging into the river depths. On board, someone was already sobbing loudly due to the fright they received. Boss Yu gripped his hands anxiously, though it was unclear if he was worried about Sòng Mèi Niáng’s life, or he felt that this entire incident was utterly unbecoming for Jade Spring Troupe in front of such honoured guests.

Very soon, a low voice rang out, “Found her—”

Everyone hurriedly leaned over to look. Sure enough, they saw Lù Kē dragging someone as he swam towards the side of the boat. Some workers on deck threw over the ropes, and soon after, Lù Kē hauled a soaking wet Sòng Mèi Niáng on board.

Consequently, everyone on the second floor and balcony hastily made their way to the first-floor deck.

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Sòng Mèi Niáng laid on the floor with a white complexion, her gasps extremely weak. Just as Bó Ruò Yōu followed Huò Wēi Lóu to the deck, she strode over to Sòng Mèi Niáng. She first checked if Sòng Mèi Niáng was breathing, before she knelt down and pressed on Sòng Mèi Niáng’s chest.

Boss Yu and Shěn Yá were one step behind them. Upon witnessing the scene, they hesitated to speak, whereas Lù Kē clarified: “Our Guniang is half a physician.”

A coroner who had knowledge in medicine could naturally be called half a physician. Boss Yu and Shěn Yá both chose to question her further. At this moment, Míng Guī Lán was brought over as well, and when he saw Bó Ruò Yōu treating Sòng Mèi Niáng, he simply held Sòng Mèi Niáng’s wrist to take her pulse. Shortly thereafter, he instructed: “Follow the most commonly used prescription for ridding of colds and make two large bowls. She needs to drink it once she wakes.”

It was the end of winter, nighttime, and the river waters were bone-piercing cold. Sòng Mèi Niáng was a delicate woman in the end, and she jumped into the river to seek death, so they couldn’t be careless. After Míng Guī Lán dished out his instructions, he heard Sòng Mèi Niáng waking up in a fit of coughs.

Her face was as white as paper and her eyes were completely red as she opened them slowly, except she only saw everyone gathering around her, hence her expression was slightly lost. At this moment, Yuè Niáng walked out from the crowd. When she saw Sòng Mèi Niáng’s current appearance, the rims of her eyes reddened a little, Sòng jiejie, everything only has worth if one is alive, how could [you] be this pessimistic?” 

It was only then that Sòng Mèi Niáng realised she did not manage to die. Closing her eyes, a stream of fresh tears streamed down from its corners, but she did not speak again.

Boss Yu’s angry countenance was not good at all. Seeing that she was alive, he hurriedly said: “Many thanks to Gongzi for lending a helping hand, the heroes that have suffered from the cold, [I] am genuinely and endlessly grateful—”

Since she was awake, Bó Ruò Yōu proceeded to brush her hands together and stand up. Yuè Niáng shot Bó Ruò Yōu a glance, but there was some thankfulness at the bottom of her eyes. Bó Ruò Yōu stated: “Quickly send her inside. She’s suffered from the fright and chill, and likely won’t be spared from a cold. Follow this Gongzi’s instructions and feed her the medicine, lest the illness worsens.”

Although Bó Ruò Yōu was a woman, her manner of speech was clear, calm and unforced, and she was following Huò Wēi Lóu. Boss Yu agreed without missing a beat. After seeing the Jade Spring Troupe servants bring Sòng Mèi Niáng away, Bó Ruò Yōu finally breathed out a sigh.

The river winds on the deck could pierce the bone, so Huò Wēi Lóu did not linger around either and he immediately led his entourage towards the third floor. Huò Qīng Hóng’s enthusiasm was waning, “It was a good night, and yet someone nearly died. Even if she can’t sing any longer, she shouldn’t have jumped into the river.”

Aware that Lù Kē and the others were dripping wet, Huò Qīng Hóng said: “Hurry and return to your rooms to change, lest all of you fall sick as well.”

Bó Ruò Yōu added: “It’s better to drink a bowl of medicine to get rid of the chill.”

Lù Kē scratched his head, smiling, “Guniang need not worry about us, this bit of chill doesn’t count for much.” Then he asked for his leave, retreating first in quick strides.

When they returned to the third floor, they heard the sound of an argument coming from the cabins below. It could be imagined that Sòng Mèi Niáng’s attempt to jump into the river was met with criticism, but the noise subsided soon after. After a full day of activities, it finally quietened down within the vast night.

Since Chéng Yùn Zhī’s leg condition was not great, he did not go downstairs to listen to the play at night, but the noise below did startle him. When Bó Ruò Yōu came over at night to speak to him, he commented: “What actresses depend on is precisely their voices. Once their voice fails, they have nothing else. No one to give praises and admiration, no value for others, and their survival is still secondary. If they cannot step on the stage in the future, then that would take their lives.”

Bó Ruò Yōu sighed audibly, “Sòng dajia jumped down in front of everyone just like that, she must have allowed her emotions to affect her decisions.”

Chéng Yùn Zhī shook his head, “Every person has their own affinity. She has technically died once through this experience. As long as she can open her mind after this suffering then everything is well and good. For an actress of such repute like her, she must have scrounged up enough personal assets all these years, so she should be able to live out the rest of her life without needing to worry about her food and clothes.”

Bó Ruò Yōu recalled Sòng Mèi Niáng’s figure when she stepped on stage. It was apparent that her poise and skills have been honed to the point of perfection. Alas, her throat was otherwise lacking, and she had a competitive heart, so it was no surprise that she ended up in a sorry situation. 

• 炉火纯青 (pinyin: lu huo chun qing) – lit. the stove has turned bright green (an allusion to Daoist alchemy)

And it was ever thus: the hero reaches the end of his road and the beauty goes past her prime, but the people who would ponder about the potential dangers and their future retreat during their full blooms and brocade days were far and few between.

Remembering Sòng Mèi Niáng’s despaired visage, Bó Ruò Yōu feared that she would not easily accept it and move on, for unknown reasons.

Her worries turned into reality on the second day. Just as she was about to send Chéng Yùn Zhī his food after finishing her own breakfast, Yuè Niáng intercepted her around the corner leading from the first to second floor. Two days ago, Yuè Niáng, who was rather defensive towards Bó Ruò Yōu, was staring at her pleadingly, “Jiejie, Jiejie could you please help us?”

Bó Ruò Yōu’s elegant brows furrowed slightly, “What’s the matter?”

Yuè Niáng’s undereye was red and swollen, “Sòng jiejie isn’t doing well, she can neither keep down her food, nor stomach the medication, I don’t know what to do anymore, Laoye refuses to care for Sòng jiejie, and others fawn over the top while stepping on those below…”

Bó Ruò Yōu sought for an embroidered emissary to send the food before she followed Yuè Niáng to see Sòng Mèi Niáng. As she reached the door, Bó Ruò Yōu paused momentarily. Sòng Mèi Niáng’s room, was unexpectedly next to Yuè Niáng’s cabin, and it was precisely the place where she and Huò Wēi Lóu were hedging around.

Upon pushing open the door, a waft of the decocted medicine rushed over their faces. Despite hearing their movements, the person on the bed did not move in the slightest. Yuè Niáng said in a low voice, “Jiejie, I’ve brought the physician-sister who saved you yesterday to see you.”

Yuè Niáng came to a halt beside the bed. Sòng Mèi Niáng laid there lifelessly, eyes partially closed. Even though her lids were clearly trembling, she did not open them from start till end. Bó Ruò Yōu moved forward, and only saw that her complexion was abnormally flushed, so she raised a hand to touch her forehead.

As she expected, it was somewhat scalding, and when she glanced over to her collar, she noted that it was drenched in sweat.

Bó Ruò Yōu inwardly thought this was bad, “[You] shouldn’t appease her like this, [you] have to make her drink the medicine no matter what.”

Yuè Niáng’s face scrunched into a ball and her eyes were about to go red again. Bó Ruò Yōu observed Sòng Mèi Niáng with a sigh, “If you refuse to give in, [you] need to at least recover your health before competing with others. If you’re dissatisfied, then it stands to reason why [you] shouldn’t let yourself be defeated in this appearance. With your current state, not only will you not garner any sympathy, but you will only earn more ridicule from others, so why bother at all?”

Yuè Niáng leaned on her bedside, “Jiejie, did you hear that? If you die, Yuè’er doesn’t want to live anymore…”

Sòng Mèi Niáng moved her fingers. Although she did not open her eyes, she seemed to be slightly persuaded. Bó Ruò Yōu saw there was paper and brushes in the room, so she turned and wrote a prescription before handing it to Yuè Niáng, “Follow this prescription, three times a day, using cold water to decoct the medicine. Her body is extremely hot, so [you] cannot be careless.”

Yuè Niáng hurriedly said: “Many thanks to Jiejie, if my Jiejie becomes better, she will personally offer her thanks.” Then she gave Sòng Mèi Niáng a sorrowful glance.

Although Sòng Mèi Niáng was being pressured by Liǔ Huì Niáng, this Yuè Niáng was faithful and true to her. Bó Ruò Yōu could not resist asking; “Are both of you sisters by blood?”

Yuè Niáng shook her head, yet responded: “Not by blood, but it is though we are.”

Bó Ruò Yōu was an outsider in the end, hence it was not polite to ask further. After giving a few additional instructions on the medicine consumption and general care, she took her leave and Yuè Niáng personally sent her to the door. Just as she stepped out, she promptly saw Boss Yu and Liǔ Huì Niáng walking over. A handsome man was following them, and he appeared to be the xiaosheng (young male actor) who sang Loved Ended last night. He was around the age of twenty, born handsome and statuesque, and perhaps because he regularly practised his posturing and expressions for stage, there was some romance dashed on his countenance.

“Hm, why are ȳou here?” Boss Yu’s gaze brightened instantaneously when he saw Bó Ruò Yōu.

Yue Niang, who was standing beside Bó Ruò Yōu, lowered her head and mumbled: “Jiejie came to see Sòng jiejie.”

Her statement sounded as though Bó Ruò Yōu had made the trip on her own volition. She looked over at Yuè Niáng and chose not to expose her. Whereas Boss Yu appeared a little overwhelmed by the favour, “Aiya, [we] have dragged ȳou into this last night, and yet you’re still concerned today, [we] have truly troubled you.”

Bó Ruò Yōu smiled faintly for a brief moment. “Her body is unwell and requires more rest. Since I have already instructed Yuè Niáng, [I] shall take my leave now.”

Boss Yu hurriedly moved aside to give way. Waiting until Bó Ruò Yōu was a few steps away, Boss Yu finally turned his gaze to focus on Yuè Niáng, though he regarded her in an amiable manner, “You were staying at Mèi Niáng’s place the entire time? There’s a meeting tonight, and you should start rehearsing and practising, there’s no need to linger here for long.”

Yuè Niáng pursed her lips slightly, unmoving. Liǔ Huì Niáng chuckled, “What are [you] standing there for? Lao’ye thinks highly of you; you’re so young and you’re allowed to step on stage, we certainly didn’t have a chance back then. Why couldn’t you be more sensible?”

Yuè Niáng raised her eyes, shooting Liǔ Huì Niáng a vicious glare before turning around and running off.

When Bó Ruò Yōu returned to the third floor, she happened to bump into Huò Wēi Lóu as he exited his room, which led him to question: “Where did [you] go for so long?”

Bó Ruò Yōu mentioned her encounter with Yuè Niáng, causing Huò Wēi Lóu’s brows to furrow, “She was rather reluctant to accept your kindness then, and now she has come looking for you instead. Take care not to overdo it; you don’t need to be overly concerned.”

Bó Ruò Yōu nodded, “Hou’ye can rest assured, min’nü has a sense of proportion. In actuality, she is still a child, hence she invokes more kindness from others.”

“You tend to have a great deal of patience for these children.” Huò Wēi Lóu remembered the little noble son from Anqing Marquis Residence, she had treated him with great compassion too.

At this moment, the sound of flutes and drums resonated from the stage below. They peered downwards, and there were people moving around the stage as they had expected. After staring for it for another beat, who else was the actress singing besides the young Yuè Niáng? Despite being young of age, her posturing was incredibly delicate, precise, and flexible; the crouching fish, and she was close to possessing the elegance Liǔ Huì Niáng had when performing the sword dance last night.

• 卧鱼 (pinyin: wo yu) – lit: lying/crouching fish. It is a type of opera performance manoeuvre, which you may watch this video as reference.

Bó Ruò Yōu was innately aware that actors were immensely skilled due to their training from a young age, yet she drew a few admiring sighs from her. Similarly, Huò Qīng Hóng and Míng Guī Lán heard the noise from their cabins, so they came out to stand at the corridor. Huò Qīng Hóng quirked his brow, “[I] originally lost my interest last night, but after hearing this tune, I find that it is rather meaningful again.”

There was another showing tonight, but after learning the internal disputes within the Jade Spring Troupe and witnessing Sòng Mèi Niáng jumping into the river, both instances were interest dampeners. However, Huò Qīng Hóng loved the hustle and bustle, and Wú Yú loved the opera, hence they would never let the chance go, whereas Bó Ruò Yōu did not feel like watching anymore.

Therefore, once the night colours settled and the stage below finished their preparations, Bó Ruò Yōu informed Fu gonggong that she was not attending tonight.

Naturally, Fu gonggong would not force her either, merely accompanying Huò Wēi Lóu and Huò Qīng Hóng downstairs. Huò Wēi Lóu did not have much interest in Peking Opera to begin with, once the tables at the party were fully seated, his thoughts started drifting without actual direction. Initially he believed he could listen to the play after sitting down, but who could have expected that Liu Hui Miang and the others would dawdle in the make-up tent for a while more. The wait, only diminished Huò Wēi Lóu of what little interest he had.

After one pillar of incense, the main show The Fragrant Companion [1] finally opened its curtains. However, the first to make an appearance was one tall and one short person; the tall figure was naturally Liǔ Huì Niáng, and by her side was the young Yuè Niáng.

Wú Yú was slightly shocked, “[They] actually allowed this little girl step on stage, The Fragrant Companion is a story that tells of two beauties mutually requited in love who treated each other as soulmates. With one older and younger [actresses], it feels kind of contentious.”

Despite the mismatch in height, Yue Niang was quite breathtaking once she opened her mouth. Wú Yú immediately shouted a praise: “Good! Her young vocals sound puerile, but her control and strength are not weak in the slightest. She must be immensely gifted, and received guidance since she was young. This xiao yatou will be remarkable in the future; it’s even possible that she will be even more accomplished than Liǔ dajia.”

Shěn Yá was waiting at the side, and he replied smilingly, “The Fragrant Companion is the best play that Sòng dajia and Liǔ dajia can put up. Alas, after what happened to Sòng dajia last night, she can’t perform today. Don’t look at this xiao guniang’s tender age alone, she was also taught by Sòng dajia.”

• 小丫头 (pinyin: xiao ya tou) — it means little girl, either in an endearing or deprecating manner, as it is often a term of address for maidservants.
  小姑娘 (pinyin: xiao gu niang) – little lady.

Huò Qīng Hóng recalled what Yuè Niáng said last night, before asking, “This Liǔ shi, was also taught by Sòng shi?”

•  shi (氏) – a suffix placed after a woman’s patronymic, kind of like -san.

Shěn Yá responded in the affirmative, “Sòng dajia was the earliest star actress of the Jade Spring Troupe. The later generations of actresses in the boudoir-door role, were all personally taught by her. Boss Yu is a Peking opera fanatic; he can sing and perform, and also write legendary stories, and he searches far and wide for seedlings with acting potential. Thus, while other acting troupes only have one top-notch boudoir-door actress once every ten to twenty years, he manages to raise them in succession. When Liǔ Huì Niáng retires in the future, this xiao yatou will be able to succeed her.”

• 闺门旦 (pinyin: gui men dan) – lit. boudoir-role actress, which refers to the role of the virtuous lady, who are usually young and unmarried women of a high social status.

There were two beauties on the stage, one older and one younger, with their hand gestures, expressions and movements being lithe and graceful; Liǔ Huì Niáng was lissom and sentimental, Yuè Niáng was delicate and spirited. Based on Yue Niang’s current voice and performance, let alone five years, she would only need two to three more years before she could stand shoulder to shoulder with Liǔ Huì Niáng. The entire house beneath the stage were immersed in the play because of the pair, and when the first scene was completed, the whole audience was resplendent with colour.

Once the second scene began, it did not show two beauties empathising with each other, but a spring act for a couple of mandarin ducks.

• 春日鸳鸯戏 (pinyin: chun ri yuang yang xi) – contextually, mandarin ducks refer to a happily married couple and ‘spring’ usually insinuates sexual intercourse.

Just as the scene began, Wú Yú scanned the deck, before commenting: “It’s fortunate that Bó guniang did not attend today. The female guest that attended last night, are not here either, otherwise it would be a slight loss in decorum.”

Huò Wēi Lóu did not understand at first, but after hearing the lyrics, his gaze changed a little.

“God leave it to man, grass for pillows flowers for bed, [your] thick tresses slant, [causing] red to loosen and jade to slant…”

“After seeing you we embraced tightly to join together, longing to make of our two bodies one single flesh, teasing, till the sun sets in rouge reds, and the rain brings fresh showers…” [2]

The xiaosheng’s aria was melodious and ardent, whilst Liǔ Huì Niáng’s visage was half-covered and abashed. The full house of audience watching below were all red-faced and bright-eyed. All the guests today were men, and everyone naturally understood what the words were conveying. Even so, harboured in their watching gazes, Liǔ Huì Niáng’s charming figure was still best described as gentle and elegant, and it was so seductive that many people at the scene lost most of their souls.

Wú Yú clapped and sighed, “Truly, with spring brings rain, sleeping until the Mount Wu is sheeted in clouds…”

• The entire sentence is actually from The Peony Pavilion as well. The un-subtle literary reference/idiom of “巫山云雨” (which literally translates to Mount Wu, clouds and rain in that order) actually finds its beginnings from a Warring States era poem by Song Yu called 高唐赋 (gao tang fu), which alludes to sexual intercourse.

Huò Qīng Hóng’s eye corners curved as he grinned, “Amazing—”

Onstage, Huì Niáng and the xiaosheng actor shared devoted looks; like a one-winged bird and one-eyed fish moving as a pair, the harmonious and affectionate couple were deep in their feelings, poignant and sentimental lyrics pouring out of their mouths, and it genuinely tickled and aroused the audience’s amorous hearts. Huò Wēi Lóu fiddled with the black jade ornamental ring as he picked up the slightly cold tea to purse a mouthful. Unwittingly, he swept a glance towards the third floor, and for some unknown reason, he found difficulty in sitting still.

Once the curtains fell, and before Liǔ Huì Niáng and others could come over to serve tea, Huò Wēi Lóu promptly rose to his feet and left the banquet. Boss Yu was a little disappointed, but upon noticing the fact that Huò Qīng Hóng and Wú Yú were still present, he hurriedly brought Liǔ Huì Niáng forward to express his goodwill.

Huò Wēi Lóu climbed up to the third floor. The hallway was utterly silent, with only a dim lantern swaying as it casted down mottled and broken shadows. His footsteps were rather heavy as he walked up to the door, but he did not hear any noise next door. Standing there for another moment, he abruptly shoved the door open heavily, thus creating a loud noise when it collided, which shocked Bó Ruò Yōu into coming out of her room with hasty steps—

“Hou’ye?” Bó Ruò Yōu assumed the wind had blown the door open, but she did not expect to see Huò Wēi Lóu standing at the door entrance. She even though that Huò Wēi Lóu had drank, but upon closer scrutiny, his gaze was incredibly lucid.

Standing at the door, Huò Wēi Lóu peered at her from a higher elevation, without speaking or moving. Bó Ruò Yōu blinked, “Hou’ye, what’s the matter?”  

Huò Wēi Lóu continued to stare at Bó Ruò Yōu, looking at the scattered strands of her, her visage which appeared more beautiful under the dim light, and noticed her thin lips which were slightly moist from her drinking tea. As he stared and stared, he stepped into his room without uttering a single word and shut his door with another “thud”.

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Bó Ruò Yōu stood outside, dumbfounded. She genuinely did not know what kind of stroke Huò Wēi Lóu was having. After a long moment, she shook her head grudgingly, before turning around to enter her own room. Wasn’t he listening to the play? Why did he become so strange after listening to it?

Although Bó Ruò Yōu could hear the sound of the drums and zither, she could scarcely make out the lyrics, and she was naturally ignorant to why Huò Wēi Lóu was acting so strangely. The hour was rather late, so she did not bother with these details, and went to bed soon after.

Just as she laid down, a hum echoed from a second-floor cabin again. The lyrics were still indistinct, but the clear and increasingly sentimental voice undoubtedly came from Liǔ Huì Niáng’s lips. Between dreams and consciousness, Bó Ruò Yōu thought, this Liǔ Huì Niáng was truly unique in her resplendence; it was already very late and yet she refused to stop, and she feared that Sòng Mèi Niáng would find it hard to sleep tonight.

As Bó Ruò Yōu fell into deep sleep, a wall away, Huò Wēi Lóu was finding the night slightly hard to endure. In the beginning it was difficult to fall asleep, but afterwards he had a weird dream. In the dream, the grass was the mat and he was accompanied by flowers in his sleep, the entire surface of skin which was as white and cold as snow; so romantically beautiful that it almost made him lose control. Before the skies lightened, Huò Wēi Lóu abruptly woke up within damp and cold sheets.

He got up, changed his clothes, and downed another cup of cold tea, but he definitely could not go back to sleep again.

When the first rays of lights entered the skies, the sleepy-eyed and groggy boatmen arose as well. Since it was easy for something to go wrong at night, they had to lower the mast and drop the anchor to slow down the boat’s speed. When the sky was about to lighten, the sails needed to be raised, and the lowered anchor had to be kept as well.

The two boatmen responsible for keeping the anchor yawned as they climbed onto the deck. This was a chore they did every day; without needing to open their eyes, they knew where the coarse rope dangling the anchor was. With squinted eyes, they felt for the rope before they started to pull it upwards.

They pulled and pulled, and just as they had yanked it up by half, the anchor seemed to be stuck on something and it could not be raised further. One boatman issued a low curse, before treading towards the side of the ship with a disgruntled expression. He originally thought the anchor had merely caught onto some underwater vegetation, but when he leaned over to peer into the river, his sleep-laden eyes instantaneously sobered up.

Despite the foggy mist over the river surface, the river water were considerably clear. What he perceived at first glance, was not some aquatic vegetation which had tangled with the anchor and rope, but a humanoid corpse facing downwards, and who knew how long it had been floating on the river…

The boatman screamed out of terror.

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Translator’s Notes:

[1] The Fragrant Companion is a play written by playwright Li Yu, telling a tale of two women who fell for each other. A rare story of female homosexuality in patriarchy that actually has a happy ending where they end up marrying the same man (one as wife and the other as concubine) through their own machinations.

[2] From the play The Peony Pavilion, written by playwright Tang Xian Zu.