The Tragedy of Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai and Dou E
As the year draws to a close, lanterns and decorations adorn every place, creating a festive and lively atmosphere.
Qian Jin and Ao Ming arrived at this small town in Jiangnan during the twelfth lunar month.
The streets were lined with bright red lanterns, and the shouts of vendors rose and fell, each one louder than the last.
"Candied hawthorn berries! Sweet and crunchy candied hawthorn berries!"
"Freshly baked Ding Sheng Gao (a type of rice cake) is said to bring good fortune and promotion in the coming year!"
"I'll buy some paper-cut window decorations to put up on my windows!"
The air was filled with the sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts, roasted sweet potatoes, and rice cakes. Children, dressed in new cotton-padded jackets, chased and played with windmills and sugar figurines, while sporadic firecrackers crackled, foreshadowing even greater excitement to come.
Qian Jin pulled Ao Ming along, like two agile fish, blending into the joyful crowd.
"Wow! Ao Ming, look at this!" She stopped in front of a stall selling velvet flowers, picked up a lifelike butterfly hairpin, and held it up to her temple. "Isn't it pretty?" Before Ao Ming could answer, she was immediately drawn to the sugar painting stall next to her. Watching the master craftsman use a spoon as a brush and sugar as ink, his wrists flying, a sugar dragon soaring through the clouds leaped onto the stone slab. "This is amazing! It looks just like you!"
She looked at this and touched that, showing great interest in everything, especially the sparkly, inexpensive jewelry and the wide variety of food. Before long, she had a bag of osmanthus sugar cakes, a string of bright red candied hawthorns, and she even insisted on giving Ao Ming a freshly made, adorable little dough pig.
Ao Ming didn't know much about these things, but he was also infected by the vibrant and lively atmosphere that was so full of life. His bright blue eyes curiously looked at everything around him.
He imitated Qian Jin and carefully took a bite of the sugar cake. The sweet and glutinous texture melted on his tongue, a simple taste that was completely different from the celestial wine and spiritual fruit.
He squeezed in with Qian Jin for a long time before finally asking, "Qian Jin, what is the purpose of our trip to the human world?" He vaguely remembered that Qian Jin had mentioned something about merfolk, but judging from the current situation, it seemed like they were just out for a trip.
Qian Jin was staring intently at an old sugar-blowing craftsman, his eyes shining, and replied without turning his head, "Of course I'm here to solve a problem!"
Ao Ming took a bite of the sweet and sticky sugar cake and mumbled, "Why do I feel... this doesn't look like it?"
Upon hearing this, Qian Jin immediately turned around, hands on her hips, her face righteous and awe-inspiring: "Senior Brother Ao Ming! Please don't underestimate my sense of responsibility towards my work! I, Qian Jin, have always been good at both playing and doing things properly!" As she spoke, she grabbed Ao Ming's sleeve, "Come on, I'll take you to a good place where we can solve the problem!"
After winding through the bustling market, Qian Jin led Ao Ming into a riverside teahouse that looked quite old.
The hall was even more lively, with people sitting around the eight-immortal table, the aroma of tea wafting through the air, and melon seed shells scattered all over the floor.
The waiter, carrying a long-spouted copper kettle, moved among the teacups, precisely pouring hot water into them from a distance without spilling a drop.
Directly in front of them was a high platform, where a storyteller dressed in a long gown and full of energy struck his gavel with a "snap," and the whole hall fell silent.
"Ao Ming, you've never heard of storytelling before, have you?" Qian Jin lowered his voice, a hint of smugness in his voice. "I'll show you today!"
Ao Ming had never been to a place like this before, and found it all quite novel. He imitated Qian Jin, clumsily cracking sunflower seeds while keeping his eyes on the stage.
The storyteller cleared his throat, unfolded his folding fan, and began to tell a poignant and moving love story.
It is the well-known story of "The Butterfly Lovers".
When the speaker reached a particularly eloquent point, his tone shifted between passionate fervor, like the clash of swords and the mournful lament of war. He vividly and captivatingly depicted Liang Shanbo's honest sincerity, Zhu Yingtai's intelligence and courage, the joy of studying together as classmates, the budding romance at the eighteen farewells, the despair of their reunion at the pavilion, and the deep affection and helplessness between them that could not be fulfilled.
Ao Ming listened intently, completely immersed in the story of joy and sorrow. When he heard about Shanbo's death and Yingtai's weeping at his grave, his brows furrowed; when he heard the final scene of a violent storm, the grave cracking open, Yingtai leaping in, and a pair of colorful butterflies fluttering out... before the storyteller's sorrowful yet comforting tone had even faded, the hall was already filled with soft sobs.
Although Qian Jin had heard it many times, she still couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness, and her eyes reddened slightly. She subconsciously turned her head to see Ao Ming's reaction, but what she saw startled her.
Tears streamed down Ao Ming's beautiful, deep blue eyes like a burst dam.
He cried without any regard for his image, completely unaware of his own actions.
Qian Jin found it both amusing and heartbreaking, and quickly took out a handkerchief to wipe his face: "Oh dear, it's all a story! Made up! Fake! Why are you actually crying like this?"
Ao Ming grabbed her wrist, tears streaming down his face, his voice choked with sobs and thick with emotion: "How can this not be real! It's too tragic! It's too touching! Why can't we be together?!" He became more and more agitated as he spoke, as if he were experiencing it himself, "When you were injured... I thought the same thing, if you were... I wouldn't want to live either!"
Qian Jin was taken aback.
But then Ao Ming continued sobbing, "But...but then I thought, that's not right! I'm a dragon! I can go to the underworld to snatch it back for you! If I can't snatch it back, and you've been reincarnated...then I'll go find you! I'll definitely find you!" After saying that, he couldn't help but cry loudly for the tragedy in the story.
The sound wasn't loud, but it stood out clearly amidst the gradually subsiding sobs.
Just as the storyteller was about to conclude, he heard the commotion and looked over. He saw a strikingly handsome man holding the hand of the girl beside him, sobbing uncontrollably. He couldn't help but smile. Far from being annoyed, he stroked his beard and said gently, "This young man is truly a man of deep feeling. Ladies and gentlemen, the reason we have passed down these stories through the ages is precisely because true love still exists in this world! Ladies and gentlemen, that's all for today. Please come again tomorrow."
As the audience gradually left, many noticed Ao Ming, who couldn't stop crying, and Qian Jin, who was helplessly wiping away his tears.
Some mothers-in-law were moved to tears by his sincerity. Others covered their mouths and chuckled, whispering, "Look at this young couple, their relationship is so good," and "Young men are so kind-hearted."
Qian Jin felt her cheeks burning from being stared at. She waited until Ao Ming calmed down before pulling him out of the teahouse, almost "escaping" with him.
The two found a small restaurant by the river and sat down. The lights were just coming on, and the river was dotted with lanterns, reflecting the red lanterns on both banks, creating a unique and charming scene.
Ao Ming's eyes were swollen like two ripe peaches, red and swollen, making him look both pitiful and comical against his handsome face. Qian Jin couldn't help but burst out laughing when she saw his appearance.
Ao Ming glanced at her with a wronged expression.
Qian Jin picked up a piece of food for him and teased him, "Now you know why I specially brought you to the human world, right?"
Ao Ming nodded, recalling the ending of the butterfly transformation, his nose tingled, his eyes reddened again, and he looked like he was about to cry again.
Seeing that things were going badly, Qian Jin quickly picked up a steaming hot soup dumpling and stuffed it into his mouth: "This is delicious! It's crab roe! You have to try it!"
Ao Ming's mouth was covered, and he chewed unconsciously. The delicious soup burst in his mouth, temporarily suppressing his sadness.
As Qian Jin served him food, she casually remarked, "There will be a performance at the South City Opera House tonight. I heard they're performing 'The Tragedy of Dou E' tonight."
Upon hearing the name, Ao Ming felt a wave of bitterness wash over him. He subconsciously touched his swollen and aching eyes, muttering, "...Should I prepare a few more handkerchiefs?" He even seriously considered, "Crying so many times a day must be exhausting...It seems I can't let the merfolk listen to me like this, otherwise they'll be too tired..."
Qian Jin watched him seriously contemplating how to "scientifically induce tears," and almost choked on her food with laughter.
As evening fell, the sounds of string and wind instruments filled the theater, a mournful melody.
On the stage, each note, filled with heart-wrenching sorrow, vividly portrayed Dou E's injustice and resentment.
The helplessness of "breaking the law without cause and being punished without warning," the grief and indignation of "crying out injustice that shook the earth and the heavens," and finally the fulfillment of the three vows: "blood splattered on white silk," "snow falling in June," and "a three-year drought," moved even the heavens.
When the song ended, the audience was filled with sobs.
Qian Jin was sobbing uncontrollably, her handkerchief soaked through. She turned her head, sobbing, and noticed that although Ao Ming was also frowning, there wasn't much tears in his eyes. Instead, he seemed to be deep in thought.
Qian Jin immediately became unhappy and punched him with a sob in her voice: "Are you even human?! You didn't even react when I was in such a terrible state?!"
Ao Ming answered honestly, "You know, I really am... not human." He paused, somewhat embarrassed, "The main problem is... there were too many vocal transitions and the lyrics were too literary, so I mostly... didn't understand what they meant."
Qian Jin blew her nose: "...So what were you thinking about with that furrowed brow just now?"
"There's a part I did understand," Ao Ming recalled, softly reciting, "'Heaven and Earth, you're so cowardly and bullying, yet you also go with the flow like this. Earth, you don't distinguish between good and bad, making things difficult for the Earth; Heaven, you wrongly judge the wise and foolish, unworthy of being called Heaven!'"
His recitation was somewhat awkward, but he grasped the rhythm perfectly, carrying a strange and desolate beauty.
"This passage is truly beautiful. The indignant and unyielding spirit it evokes is so moving, it makes one's heart ache just reading it," Ao Ming commented. Then, his tone shifted, becoming calm yet firm, "But you also know that our world operates according to its own laws, with rewards and punishments measured in their own way; it is not so unjust. While a temporary injustice is certainly regrettable, the cycle of heaven has its own justice. We cannot deny the vastness of the universe because of a corner of darkness..."
After listening, Qian Jin saw that he was about to launch into a long speech, so she quickly stopped crying and smiled: "That's just your occupational hazard. Mortals have short lifespans, and what they see and feel is limited to a small space. In just a few decades, their love, hate, and passions are as intense as fire. How can they be like you immortals, standing on the clouds and watching the cause and effect cycle of thousands of generations? It is precisely because of this that their temperament is so sincere and intense. They dare to love and hate, and they can be sad and happy. This is something that no other being in the Three Realms can compare to."
She paused, then tapped the table thoughtfully: "But your question about 'not understanding' has given me a wake-up call. If you have trouble understanding opera scripts with their ornate language and numerous allusions, then those mermaids probably have even less trouble. It seems that choosing a good script for them is of utmost importance."
As night deepened, the performance ended and the crowds dispersed.
The river lanterns drifted slowly away with the current, carrying the wishes of mortals to the unknown distance. Qian Jin gazed at the warm lights outside the window, while Ao Ming sat quietly opposite her, watching her profile, which appeared particularly vivid and earnest under the lamplight.
Perhaps true "affection" is not only found in stories, but also in the real concern and efforts we make.
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