Bad consequences, good marriage (1)
The weather was hot, and even at night the air was stuffy. In the dim night, a thin boy endured the familiar stench, quickly crossing one dirty puddle after another, and skillfully finding a few footholds in the uneven mud. Finally, by the faint moonlight, he passed through a dark alley, where a few rats could be vaguely seen scurrying about in the corners. He finally reached the end of the street—where there was a dilapidated little woodshed.
He stood in the doorway, finally revealing his clothes: tattered and obviously too small, clinging precariously to his body, with half his leg exposed. His trousers were stained with some unknown dirt. The boy carefully opened the rickety door, slipped inside, and gently closed it behind him. He called out loudly into the house, "Mother, I'm home."
The room was dark, with only a sliver of pale moonlight streaming in through the window. The woman sat by the window, the moonlight bathing her like new silk covering old white porcelain. She wore a faded white blouse, patched in many places. Her hair was short, just below her ears and barely reaching her chin, neatly combed. She didn't look like a woman with a young child, burdened by the struggles of life; she looked more like an educated schoolgirl.
She slowly turned her head, stared at the boy for a while, and suddenly smiled with joy, "You're back!"
The boy naturally walked to the woman's right and began to chatter on about what he had seen and heard that day. "They all say that Ah Chun's older sister has found a good marriage..." He paused, then stopped talking and pulled out two hard cornbread buns from his pocket. "Here, they're still warm. Eat them quickly."
The woman's eyes lit up immediately, and she excitedly took it. As soon as she got it, she was about to take a big bite when the boy, afraid she would choke, quickly reached out to stop her and remind her to slow down.
Before he could speak, the woman misunderstood him. She looked at the cornbread in her hand, generously took one out, and said, "Fu'an, you eat some too."
The boy suddenly stopped. "You...remember me today?"
The woman was puzzled. "I've always remembered you."
Who is Fu'an?
"It's my son."
"Then who am I?"
"Who are you?" The woman raised her hand and touched the boy's face.
Her hands were rough and cracked in many places, and the aged skin scraped painfully against her face, but Fu'an did not dodge. Instead, she moved closer to make it easier for Fu'an to move.
She scrutinized the boy for a long time, then smiled with childlike innocence, "You are Fu'an, my dear Fu'an."
——
In the vast capital city, every inch of land is precious, filled with wealth, power, and sensual pleasures.
"Haven't you heard the saying, 'The Forbidden City is a treasure trove of gold'?" Marco Polo, who came from Europe, said.
The man who spoke had a dignified appearance and seemed to be an honest and simple person. He stared at the chessboard, his eyes darting around, and suddenly raised his hand with delight, laughing heartily, "Hey, checkmate! You've lost, don't try to cheat."
The man in front of him looked extremely annoyed, scratched his hair, and shouted, "Again! Again! Old Liu, it's been days..." Suddenly, the man noticed something and loudly called out to everyone, "Hey! You've even changed into a new set of clothes. Where have you been making your fortune?"
"Haha, not at all, just lucky." The man called Lao Liu seemed unaccustomed to such gazes, and couldn't help but shrink his neck, scratching his head awkwardly, looking somewhat wooden.
"That's really unfair of you. You don't even share any opportunities with the brothers. You get to eat the meat, but you don't let us get a sip of the soup, do you think?"
A soft murmur of agreement rose from the surroundings.
"Actually, it's just..." Old Liu suddenly lowered his voice.
The people around him stopped playing chess and teasing the birds, and all gathered around to hear what he had to say.
"...If those officials even let a little money slip through their fingers, it would be enough for us ordinary folks to live on for years." Old Liu chuckled.
"Could it be...?" Several people exchanged knowing glances. The remaining group looked at each other, when suddenly someone had a flash of inspiration, "It's that ginger..."
"Hey! It's good that everyone knows, but don't bring it out in the open." Someone immediately interrupted him.
However, after his reminder, everyone showed a knowing look, and an ambiguous smile appeared on their faces.
"Speaking of which, isn't there one in that alley in the south of the city?" Someone gestured with their lip, nudged the person next to them, and winked.
"Why bring her up? It's bad luck!" Old Liu spat. He lived in that alley in the south of the city. "If it weren't for her..." He was about to curse again when someone cut him off.
"Alright, alright, everyone, let's all be more considerate. Come on, let's play some chess." The group then slowly dispersed.
Willows sway gently along the riverbank, a spring breeze caressing the face—a truly pleasant sight. Beyond the bustling crowds and low, quiet tiled houses, one can vaguely see ancient eaves and a few exquisite European-style roofs. During the day, it's very quiet, with only the ordinary bustling activity of the streets and alleys visible. But as night falls and all the lights are extinguished, the place suddenly comes alive, brightly lit all night long. One can glimpse the alluring figure of a courtesan through the window and the intoxicating golden splendor of the interior, while the beautiful songs are carried on the wind throughout the capital.
Right now, all that can be heard is Lao Liu's laughter and conversation with the people around him, and the noisy chirping of birds when the curtain is lifted.
...
This once bustling capital city is now a den of iniquity, a melting pot of all sorts of people, and permeated with a foul stench.
"Cry, cry, cry! All you do all day is cry! You've ruined this family's fortune!" The dull-witted Old Liu suddenly grabbed the woman's hair, lifted her up from behind, and slapped her across the face.
The woman lay prone on the ground, her upper body forced high into the air, like a dying fish on a chopping board. Broken, intermittent sobs escaped her throat, like a leaky, distorted speaker, utterly grating and unpleasant to hear.
She seemed to be saying something, squeezing out a few words with all her might.
To hear her clearly, Old Liu bent down slightly and leaned closer to listen. "But...that, that's...my daughter..."
Before she could finish speaking, she was flung away. She reached out her hand, seemingly trying to brace herself, but the kind-hearted Old Liu revealed a ferocious expression and kicked her.
The woman couldn't even groan anymore, leaving a wet stain on the floor mixed with blood, snot, and tears.
Old Liu squatted down in front of her, chuckling as he did during their daytime chat. He reached out his hand, which elicited an uncontrollable shiver from the woman.
Old Liu put on a pained expression again, and without much pity, he lifted her up and pulled her into his arms from behind. He didn't brush the hair that was smeared on the woman's face because he didn't want to see that disgusting, tear-streaked face.
He managed to find a clean spot on the woman's body and patted it, eliciting a muffled groan of pain from her. Old Liu immediately felt embarrassed and hugged her tenderly, "I'm so sorry, Chun. Look at me, I'm so clumsy, I didn't know my own strength. Did I hurt you? Chun, you're the best, you'll forgive me, right?"
Ah Chun remained motionless in his arms; if it weren't for the faint rise and fall of her chest, she would have looked almost like a dead person.
Old Liu continued, his laughter growing wider and wider, "Your daughter's off to enjoy life, Ah Chun, this is truly a rare and wonderful marriage..."
Ah Chun remained silent, just as she had when she was about to get married. She sat quietly behind the curtain, and a gentle spring breeze lifted a corner of the curtain. She saw the matchmaker excitedly grab her mother's arm, her voice filled with joy, "Your Ah Chun has found a rare and wonderful match!"
That year, the willows were swaying gracefully, and the spring day lingered. Magpies perched on the branches, chirping and chattering, accompanying her mother's weeping as she was sent off to her wedding. Ah Chun sat in the swaying sedan chair, seeing the festive red decorations through her veil.
That year, the grass grew tall and the flowers bloomed, orioles flew and swallows danced, and once again, a blurry, festive red filled the eye. The pleasant spring breeze carried the fragrance of flowers into the blood-stained nostrils, the incandescent light hung high inside the house, moths were drawn to the light, and the sound of raindrops pattered under the old tiled roof. Ah Chun was enjoying a rare and good marriage.
——
it's clear,
There were groups of two or three women on the street going to do laundry.
"Hey, have you heard? Old Liu's daughter has been sent to be Master Jiang's concubine." The woman on the far right whispered mysteriously to her sister, gossiping.
"Really? His daughter isn't..." The woman in the middle was holding a basin full of clothes with a bar of soap on top, and an empty bucket in her other hand, looking surprised.
The woman on the left scoffed, "What concubine? She's never even entered the marriage hall, not even worthy of being called a mistress. Old Liu sold his daughter!"
The woman who spoke first quickly reached out and grabbed her. She looked around and, seeing that no one else was paying attention, breathed a sigh of relief. "Grandma, you should be careful with your words. You'll only get yourself into trouble if you say something carelessly."
"Pah! If there's any trouble, it'll be those who suffer first, doing all sorts of heinous things." Her eyes were narrow and long, and she had a sneer on her face. Her words were harsh, and she looked sharp and mean. "Selling your own daughter to an old man who's almost fifty, they're not even as good as animals."
"Sister Mo, please stop talking. Oh dear! I shouldn't have brought this up." The person who spoke first was stamping her feet anxiously, afraid that someone might overhear her.
"When did this happen?" asked the woman standing in the middle.
Aunt Mo chimed in, "I think it was just a couple of days ago. My husband said that Lao Liu was still bragging to them about it yesterday."
“His daughter isn’t… how could she possibly catch the eye of Master Jiang?” The woman holding the clothes looked somewhat reluctant. “Besides, Chen is still staying with us. Isn’t it said that Old Liu dotes on his daughter the most? How could he bear to part with her?”
As they spoke, they reached the edge of the pool, which consisted of three perfectly square, interconnected pools. The water in the first pool was the clearest; it could be boiled and drunk immediately. The water then flowed down a small groove into the next, lower pool, where a few people were washing vegetables.
The three of them walked straight to the last, lowest pool. They had arrived early, so there weren't many people there yet, and the water was still clean. They casually chose a corner, squatted down, and began washing their clothes.
"Sigh." The one who spoke first let out a long sigh. "It's only because Rongmei, you've only just married into this family, that you don't know many things. Old Liu's daughter takes after her mother; she's beautiful, hardworking, and has excellent embroidery skills. Which family around here wouldn't want to marry someone like her? Old Liu was hoping she'd marry into a good family, so naturally he treated her well, but later..."
She paused, her hands still rubbing the clothes. It was almost noon, and the sunlight was a bit too bright. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve and rinsed the clothes again—the dirty water and the white of the soap mixed together, revealing a strange gray hue, which gradually dissipated in the pool. She continued, "What a fine girl she was, and yet her leg was broken by a horse. What a pity. Ah Chun cried for days after it happened. She wasn't in good health to begin with, sigh." She shook her head and sighed again.
"This is so careless, how could it happen... sigh." Rongmei said regretfully, her head down.
"What do you mean by accident!" Mo Sao was furious when she talked about what happened back then, and she hit her clothes harder. "It happened right at the entrance of this alley! That horseman was really awful. When Old Liu went to make a scene, the other party didn't even show his face, just threw him a bag of loose silver and had someone chase Old Liu away."
"Huh?" Rongmei was genuinely surprised now. "How come there are people riding horses at the entrance of our alley?"
Mo Sao was so angry that she even threw down the mallet in her hand. "It was that Third Master Jiang's wife who sent people to cause trouble for Chen Yatou. Fu'an was only three years old at the time. His wife was also heartless. Not only did she have all the valuables taken away, but she also had people beat Chen Yatou. Chen Yatou became stupid at that time, and her left ear was also beaten deaf. She can't hear anything."
Silence fell over the surroundings, broken only by the sound of washing clothes, and the sunlight grew increasingly scorching.
After a long while, Rongmei finally asked, "What about Third Master Jiang... isn't he going to do anything about it?"
"What does it matter? Master Jiang has plenty of women." The woman sighed again. "This time he's probably just looking for something new, and he's got his eye on Old Liu's daughter again..."
"How pitiful..."
No one brought up the topic anymore. As the sun rose higher, the group simply huddled together in the shade and quietly began washing clothes.
Aunt Mo washed the clothes the fastest and left first, carrying them with her. "I have to go back and cook for my man. They're pulling a cart, and I don't know when they'll be back to eat. I have to prepare in advance. I'm off now."
"It rained yesterday, so the road home is slippery. Be careful."
"Alright." Aunt Mo waved her hand, picked up the washed clothes, and left.
...
She prepared a meal at home—steamed a basket of white flour buns, served a small dish of pickled vegetables, smashed a cucumber, and made a few pancakes.
Just as I was about to put it in the pot to keep warm, I heard a cheerful voice, "I'm back."
"You're back so early today?" Aunt Mo lifted the curtain and ran out, wiping her hands on her apron. Touching the man's sunburnt face, she felt extremely sorry for him. "Sit down quickly, the dishes are just ready, I'll go get them."
"Let me help you, but don't burn your hand."
"Oh, no need, you sit down." Aunt Mo stuffed a palm-leaf fan into his hand. "Sit down and rest for a while." After saying that, she went into the kitchen and soon served all the dishes.
Seeing the man wolfing down his food, she smiled and handed him a glass of water, saying, "Eat slowly, don't choke."
The man put more food in her bowl, gesturing for her to eat as well. Aunt Mo smiled, took a thin pancake, dipped it in sauce, and began to eat.
"Wife," the man said, swallowing a piece of biscuit in two bites, taking a sip of water, "I want to learn to drive."
"Learn to drive?" Aunt Mo was taken aback.
“Yeah, learn to drive. Fewer and fewer people ride rickshaws these days, so you can’t make money.” The man took another bite of his steamed bun with some pickled vegetables. “I met an old man the other day. He works at a factory. His factory is going to start a shuttle bus service to pick up and drop off employees, and they need to hire a driver. I happened to help him out, and since I can read a few words, he asked if I wanted to do it, but I would have to pay for my own driving lessons.”
Aunt Mo pondered for a long time, then kept repeating, "This is a good thing..." and asked, "How long does the course take, and how much does it cost?"
The man counted out a number, and then fell silent at the dinner table. His mother had recently fallen ill, and the family was running out of money.
“I still have some jewelry left in my dowry. I should be able to raise some money by pawning it.” Aunt Mo gritted her teeth. “Go and learn.”
The man fell silent, not speaking for a long time. He held Mo's hand tenderly, "Wife, your dowry is almost gone. Old Liu is living a lavish lifestyle lately, maybe I should go borrow some money from him..."
"No way!" Aunt Mo shoved him away. "We can't take that kind of dirty money he makes by selling his daughter!"
She finished her food, picked up her chopsticks, and stood up. "It's settled then. You go learn to drive, and redeem me when you've earned enough money. Alright, alright, eat your food. Fu'an will be here soon. I'll go find the things first. We should thank Chen girl properly. If it weren't for her teaching you to read back then, you wouldn't have found such a good job."
The man nodded repeatedly. He had finished his meal and helped clear the table. "Take that piece of cloth from the other day and make clothes for me. Don't make it for me. I can still wear these clothes for a long time."
“Mine is still wearable. Take it and make a new outfit for Fu’an. That child’s clothes are all torn. He’s growing a lot, so I’ll make it a bit bigger so he can wear it next year.” Aunt Mo took two steamed buns from the pot and added a few pieces of thin pancake. After packing them up, she placed them with the folded clothes on the table.
Sister Mo is a well-known tailor in the area; she's fast and good, and everyone likes to work with her.
"What if Fu'an won't accept it? I've given him things several times before, but he refused them all." The man scratched his head in confusion.
"I have my own way of doing things, go and do your work." Aunt Mo shooed him out of the kitchen.
...
"Aunt Mo." A voice called from the doorway.
As soon as Aunt Mo went out, she saw Fu'an standing at the door, his clothes still tattered and covered in years of grime. His hands, however, were clean, and he was carrying a basket lined with a newspaper.
Seeing that Sister Mo was staring at the basket, Fu'an quickly said, "These are clean newspapers. A gentleman read them this morning and then didn't want them anymore, so I begged him to give them to me. This way, I won't get my clothes dirty." He was very embarrassed, and his voice was soft.
Aunt Mo sighed and beckoned him in, "Who asked you that? What are you standing there for? Come in quickly."
Fu'an hesitated for a moment, and Mo Sao urged him several times before he finally came in—he was worried that he would make things dirty.
Aunt Mo took the basket from his hand and put the clothes in one by one. "These are Grandma Zhang's clothes from Jinyu Hutong. She has difficulty walking, so please take them to her for me." She then picked up the steamed buns and pancakes on the table. "Here, these are today's."
Fu'an stared intently at the steamed bun, his eyes practically glued to it. He hadn't eaten anything all day, and his stomach was growling uncontrollably. Startled, he quickly clutched his stomach and chuckled sheepishly.
Seeing his embarrassed look, Sister Mo barely managed to suppress her laughter and took another steamed bun from the kitchen and handed it to him.
Fu'an, however, put his hands behind his back and refused to take it.
Aunt Mo thought for a moment, then led him to the kitchen, shoved the steamed bun into his hand, and pretended to be fierce, "Eat it quickly, or you'll faint on the way and I'll have to pay for the clothes."
Seeing that he was still trying to refuse, Mo Sao's face became even fiercer, "Eat quickly! After you finish eating, wash the bowl clean for me, and hurry up and deliver the clothes, Grandma Zhang is in a hurry to get them." Seeing that Fu An finally agreed, Mo Sao went out and sat outside to continue altering clothes in the sun.
Fu'an stood in front of the stove, not touching the pickled vegetables that had been specially placed aside. He carefully dipped his steamed bun into the remaining soup in the bowl and wolfed it down.
He hadn't eaten such good food in a long time. He knew Aunt Mo was good to him, but he couldn't accept favors for no reason. He would never take advantage of others when he had nothing to do. Fortunately, he could earn some money by carrying water for others every day.
The owner of the steamed bun shop was also very kind. For the same price, others could only buy four steamed buns, but he could buy six. He carried two with him every day. When he got really hungry, he would drink most of a bottle of water and eat a couple of bites of steamed buns, which was enough to keep him going for the day. He would leave the remaining four at home for his mother to eat.
It's just that he's always hungry, has little energy, and is slow at picking things out, so people are starting to dislike him.
Fu'an was very afraid that others would not use him.
But he doesn't need to worry today. With the big steamed buns Aunt Mo gave him, he feels he can even carry two more buckets of water.
Aunt Mo watched him wash the dishes from outside the kitchen, secretly observing his size and planning to make him clothes. The more she looked, the more alarmed she became. He was only six years old, but he looked very short, thin as a skeleton, like a withered piece of wood.
Mo Sao couldn't help but curse that hypocritical Third Master Jiang in her heart. He didn't even care about his own son. He deserved to die.
"I'm leaving, Aunt Mo." Fu'an dried her hands, picked up her basket, and prepared to leave.
Aunt Mo quickly stopped him, "Fu'an, your uncle will be busy in a few days and won't be able to come back for lunch. I don't have time either. Can you help me deliver his lunch? I'll take care of your meals."
Fu'an was flattered. "Of course, you don't need to cook for me specially. Just... the usual will do." He was startled and stammered as he spoke.
"That's settled then. Auntie doesn't trust anyone else. You need to be properly dressed to go into your uncle's place. Auntie will make you a new set of clothes, a bit bigger, with a string on the cuffs and other parts so you can tie the longer parts yourself. That way you can wear it when you grow taller next year." As she spoke, Aunt Mo took out a soft measuring tape and started measuring him.
Fu'an shook his head violently, "Auntie, this won't do..."
Aunt Mo frowned again. "What? You don't like the clothes I made?"
"No..." Fu'an quickly denied.
"That's fine then, don't say anything more." Aunt Mo had already taken the measurements. "I'll take your clothes."
Fu'an was thus kicked out of the door by her.
He stood outside the door, watching Aunt Mo's busy figure, clutching the basket tightly, his eyes involuntarily welling up with tears. He wiped away his tears, picked up the basket, and ran outside. The bright sunshine illuminated the road ahead, and above him was a clear blue sky.
——
That evening, Fu'an happily ran home. He had gone back once in the afternoon, shared Mo's pancakes with his mother, and left two large steamed buns for his mother before going out to fetch water.
The weather was excellent during the day, with gentle breezes and sunshine, so the night was also cloudless and filled with stars.
Fu'an clutched the candy tightly in his hand. It was given to him by Aunt Rong, and he wanted to take it back to his mother.
As usual, he pushed open the door and shouted loudly into the darkness inside, "Mother, I'm back."
The room was quiet and empty.
Fu'an panicked and searched the entire house. The small house could be looked over in a few glances, but there wasn't a soul in sight. He hurriedly ran outside, calling out as he ran, "Mother—"
The mud stained his tattered cloth shoes, and dirty water climbed up his calves and trouser legs, but he kept running, not daring to stop.
Fu'an fell to the ground, now covered in dust. His palms were scraped and bleeding, mixed with pebbles and sand, but Fu'an ignored it. He simply got up quickly and continued running.
Finally, he found his mother in the shadows beside a broken box; she was curled up in a small ball, shivering.
Fu'an breathed a sigh of relief, walked to her mother's right side, and whispered in her ear, "Mom, shall we go home together? I'll give you candy."
The mother looked puzzled.
Who is Fu'an?
"It's your son."
"Then who are you?"
"Who am I?" Fu'an looked like he was about to cry. He stretched out his hand, with a piece of candy in his bloodied palm.
He carefully unwrapped the candy, and the candy inside had melted, becoming sticky and disgusting. He held the candy out to his mother, his smile more like a grimace, "Fu'an is giving you candy. I am... Fu'an."
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