Chapter 43
In the winter of the 12th year of the Republic of China, the air was cold and dry.
Under a gray-green sky, the copper basins of the barbers swung white, and the sound of pigtails being cut echoed from the entrance of the alley. An old man from the late Qing Dynasty, wearing a maroon jacket, tucked his long, graying pigtail into a melon-shaped hat and strolled out carrying a birdcage. The young masters of the Western school had already styled their hair in a 3:7 split, and the reflection of the oil poured from their hair was reflected on the glass cases of the tailor shop at the entrance of the alley.
There are two rows of stalls in front of Fulong Temple. On one side are Western umbrellas with sandalwood handles, and on the other side are enamel snuff bottles. In front and behind, there are also stalls selling watercolors, rouge, ink-shaped cakes and other things.
At noon, Beijing was bustling with activity. Rickshaw pullers crisscrossed the alleys, soliciting customers. Children, aged seven or eight, held cigarette holders and hawked cigarettes to passing gentlemen. Newsboys dashed about, shouting out the morning's news items, from Marshal Zhang's expansion of the army in Tianjin to the movement's parade.
Several train horns blared from the Qianmen train platform, startling the flock of gray pigeons below the city wall. The pigeons flew over the arrow tower in groups, their dense shadows cast on a funeral procession.
At that time, it was probably quite quiet compared to the days that followed.
"I told you not to listen, I told you to run, and now you dare to steal things? Who gave you the burden?" By the river, a young man in a long jacket was swinging the whip in his hand vigorously, hitting the girl in front of him fiercely. As he hit her, he also spit out dirty words to curse the girl.
The girl shrank back, her thin body thrown onto the washing stone on the shore, holding onto the washing stone with her hands. No matter how close the man came, even if he would step on her in the next step, the girl did not dare to retreat.
There was a pond behind her, and if she wasn't careful she would fall into the river and be swept away by the current.
Although she was afraid of the approaching man, she was even more afraid of the river. She didn't dare to die, and she couldn't die, so no matter how the man beat and scolded her, the girl could only endure it. The man cursed and swore, and the whip hit the girl again and again, her skin was torn and blood seeped out of her tattered clothes.
"I didn't, I didn't steal," the girl said weakly, pleading and explaining in a low voice.
The man used all his strength and didn't want to give her a chance to live. "You said it wasn't you who stole it, so who else could it be if it wasn't you?"
"I don't know either." The girl's begging voice became weaker and weaker, and her cracked lips trembled up and down.
This girl was Wang Qing, she was just ten years old that year.
In those days, girls were born into debt. When they were old enough to walk and carry water, they were either sold as child brides or sold to wealthy families as maids. When she was eight, her father sold her to a school for one silver dollar. Every day, she would rise before dawn to boil water for her master, then serve breakfast, clean the yard, cook, mend clothes, and, before dusk, boil water for the ladies' baths. Because she was sold into the family, she didn't receive wages for her work like the farmhands. She only received small tips at the end of the year or when her master was expecting a wedding.
Today, this man falsely accused her of stealing the pendant. She tried various explanations, but no one would listen to her.
The lives of the poor are worth less than grass. Even when her father wanted to sell her, he said, "Daya, I am doing this for your own good. Here you can still have food to eat, but at home you have nothing and can only wait to die."
So when the whip came down, Wang Qing took it, and she only hoped that the man would calm down quickly and not beat her to death.
Who would have thought that he would beat her harder and harder, cursing as he beat her, "You little bitch, you're so stubborn, you dare not admit that you stole something?"
Wang Qing shook his head desperately, but did not say anything to explain.
The more she talked, the harder the man beat her.
Several women who were washing clothes nearby and rickshaw drivers who had just finished work gathered around when they heard the commotion. They saw Wang Qing, who had been beaten to every last inch of her body, and everyone wanted to help, but instead they pointed fingers at her, making all kinds of excuses and hurling nasty remarks right in front of her.
The driver, sitting on the carriage, said she was a habitual thief who loved to steal. He had just seen her released from the police station a few days ago. The woman in the Duanmu Basin also chimed in, saying she didn't look like a decent person. Some even said she was a girl from a school, not a maid, who had seduced a high-ranking official and was caught and kicked out by the official's wife. Otherwise, why would they drag her out into the street and beat her?
Wang Qing felt even more wronged when she heard these words. She had no way of defending herself. She had endured the unwarranted beating, but how could she endure these fabricated accusations?
At that time, a woman's reputation was more important than anything else.
She was ashamed, frightened, and her face was burning. She didn't know if it was because of the pain from the whip or the discomfort in her heart, but slowly, she began to loosen her hands that had been holding onto the stone platform.
Since the beginning of winter, the days have seemed shrouded in a thick, gray haze, with no sign of clearing up. The sky is gloomy, with either endless rain or a chilly wind blowing all day and night. I don't know if it's because of this strange weather, but there's always a chill in the air that seeps into my bones, and the howling wind constantly blows past me. If I dare to show any part of my body, it will immediately cut my skin uncomfortably. Even if I'm just walking on the road, I have to wrap myself tightly in layers.
After waiting for a long time for sunny days, it happened to be Xue Shangyang's day off. With the New Year approaching, the two of them wanted to go shopping in a few shops outside the city, buy some new winter clothes, or add some festive decorations to the house. As they passed by the river, Yang Ye heard a noisy argument from the other side. She stopped and looked at the crowd standing there.
"What's going on?" She grabbed Xue Shangyang's sleeve and tiptoed to look curiously.
Xue Shangyang glanced at him and said, "Are you watching a show?"
"The opera troupe is setting up outside the city," Yang Ye muttered to herself. She pulled Xue Shangyang's arm and said to him expectantly, "Let's go and have a look."
Xue Shangyang refused seriously, "No, your injuries haven't healed yet."
"It was just a scratch from a bullet. The gauze has been removed. What's the big deal?" Yang Ye raised his bare hand and said coquettishly, "I haven't watched a play for a long time. How about watching one? Let's go and see what play is on today. After we see it, we'll go back."
Seeing that Xue Shangyang still refused to agree, Yang Ye softened his voice, hugged his arms, and said in a gentle voice: "You are always by my side, I must know the limits. Let's watch for a while. I am already here. If you don't let me see it, I will have to think about this matter all the time when I go home. I will feel itchy in my heart and won't be able to sleep well at night."
Xue Shangyang looked down at her. Yang Ye's misty eyes were full of anticipation. Seeing her acting like a spoiled child and trying to act like a rogue, he sighed helplessly. In the end, he couldn't persuade her and had to say, "You can only watch for a while. You have to go back before too many people come. Be careful not to get squeezed."
"I promise for a while," Yang Ye raised his hand and swore.
The personal guards who followed him went over and made room for two more people.
Yang Ye released her hand that had just grabbed Xue Shangyang's clothes and ran over happily. When she got closer, she found that there was no stage for opera in front of her. Instead, there was a tall and strong man whipping a girl who was not even half his height.
"What's going on?" Yang Ye asked the aunt next to him.
The aunt looked at her attire, and then saw the soldiers in military uniforms following her, "I don't know, the fighting is fierce."
Yang Ye saw the crisscrossing, flesh-tearing whip wounds on the girl's body and asked, "Isn't this a way of beating someone to death?"
"Hey," she walked to the front of the crowd and yelled at the man, "What are you doing? Stop it, don't hit her."
The man was frightened by her shout and stopped whipping his horsewhip. He glanced at Yang Ye standing in front of the crowd. His eyes swept over Yang Ye's dress from top to bottom. It was ordinary and not rich. He shook the whip stained with the girl's blood in his hand and said to Yang Ye viciously, "Who do you think you are? How dare you interfere in my business?"
What Yang Ye hated most in her life was being threatened. Seeing the girl lying there dying, she took a step forward without fear of the man. "I'll take care of it. Go pull them apart."
The personal guards went over and pinned the man down in a few moves.
"Having soldiers is so great, do you know who I am?" He was held down by his personal guards by the shoulders, and he couldn't stop shouting, "I tell you, even if the police chief comes, he has to talk to me nicely when he sees me. How dare you, a little girl, interfere in my affairs?"
"How dare you speak to our wife like that?" The guard was furious and kicked the man in the knee. The man's legs gave way and he fell heavily to his knees.
Even if the man is kneeling, he still has to say, "Madam, what kind of madam, I tell you, I am from the Night Garden, let me go quickly if you are honest, otherwise I will make you pay for it."
Yang Ye glanced at him sideways, with a hint of sneer on the corner of her lips. She stood in front of the girl and saw the whip marks on her body, with a terrifying coldness in her eyes.
"The Night Garden," she repeated, as if she were saying something ridiculous, "that low-brow place."
The man was pinned to the ground by the guards, but he still stiffened his neck and kept shouting, "You are not worthy. Behind our Night Garden is..."
The voice stopped abruptly.
The cold metal object pressed against the man's forehead, and the touch instantly froze his blood. Yang Ye had crouched before the man without knowing when, the barrel of the Browning rifle pressing gently against his skin.
"Go on," she said softly, waving the muzzle of the gun over the man's head. "If you have anything else to say, go on. I'm listening."
"You, you..." The man said "you" for a long time but didn't say anything else.
Xue Shangyang walked over, helped Yang Ye up from her squatting position, and whispered to her, "Put it away, don't scare other people."
Yang Ye looked at him, turned her wrist, and slid the Browning into her sleeve pocket deftly.
Xue Shangyang looked at the man on the ground coldly. He didn't say anything, and didn't even give him a threatening look, but people could still feel his aura of authority without anger.
"Master, Master..." The man immediately wilted when he saw Xue Shangyang, and immediately bowed to greet him. The guard released his arm, and the man shrank his body, knelt forward and asked politely: "Master, what brings you here?"
Xue Shangyang stood there and looked down at the man: "Do you recognize me?"
The man trembled all over. "Yes, I recognize you. I had the honor of meeting you at the banquet at the Governor's Mansion."
Suddenly, as if he thought of something terrible, he raised his head and looked at Yang Ye cautiously, and quickly kowtowed to apologize, "Then this must be Madam Xue. I was blind and didn't recognize you. I should be punished, I should be punished."
Before he finished speaking, he raised his hand without hesitation and slapped himself twice. The slaps made a crisp sound. He hit hard and fast, without any effort to hold back. After just two slaps, his face was already swollen. After that, he licked his face and looked at Xue Shangyang in a flattering manner.
Yang Ye went to help the girl up, and when he looked closer, he found that the girl's body was completely beaten to a pulp. He wanted to hold her, but was afraid of getting whip marks on her arms and shoulders.
Yang Ye looked at the girl distressedly, then turned and stared at the man on the ground, his eyes blazing with anger. "What did she do wrong that you had to hit her like this?"
"This girl is not clean. She stole our daughter's jade pendant."
The girl leaned on Yang Ye's arms and used her remaining breath to defend herself, "I didn't."
"How dare you say that?" The man stood up and stared at the girl with a ferocious look.
The girl shook her head, her eyes filled with fear and pleading, "Madam, I really didn't steal what he said."
"I know," Yang Ye comforted softly.
"Madam, please be kind. This girl is a thief and a thief. Everything she says is a lie. Madam, please don't trust her." The man rubbed his hands and took a half step forward. "She tried to steal my money last month, but I caught her red-handed. You..."
Yang Ye suddenly raised her eyes, a cold glint flashing in them. The man was stung by her gaze, or perhaps afraid of her Browning, and the second half of his words got stuck in his throat.
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