Chapter 1 - Being Taken in (1/2)

In Autumn Wind Teahouse, a hubbub filled the hall. Ci in a red thin dress was twanging the Chinese lute with her slender fingers and crooning a song, with a white flower in her loose hair. No one cared what she was singing. After the song, she went into a room and rested for a while, and then came out to sing again. The last song she sang was sad, but no one understood her feelings.

“The candle has burned right down.

The pattern of cannas on the painted screen appears as a blur in the dim light.

I dream about my hometown Jiangnan. The green plums in the trees have ripened.

I’m playing the flute on a little boat drifting along with the waves in the rain at night.

Voices come from the post house near the bridge. Someone is telling his unforgettable story with a local accent.”

T/N note:

Jiangnan: regions south of the Yangtze River.

Ci wandered from Jiangnan to Tange Town. At that time, her hometown suffered from a plague of locusts. There was gloom above and darkness below, with no light from the sun. The locusts flitted about in the air and destroyed all the crops and vegetables. Every time Ci raised her head, she felt frightened because she saw lots of winged insects fluttering. A few days later, she was ravenous and began to eat raw locusts. She chewed the locusts and greenish liquid filled her mouth. She couldn’t help but vomit up the locusts, but for survival, she had to force herself to eat them. Afterward, an outbreak of pestilence followed. Villager began to eat carrion and died one after another. The living people ate the dead bodies and after they died, they were eaten by others. Anyway, each human being has to die.

The night was very still and the moon cast a faint light over the ground. Ci was digging a pit for her dead family members, her fingers bloody. She needed a deep pit to bury them so that the bodies wouldn’t be dug out and eaten by other hungry villagers. There was nothing left but a Chinese lute in her house. Ci wrapped the lute in a cloth, walked out of the house with it, and then set fire to the house without hesitation.

It was a hot summer day when Ci arrived at Autumn Wind Teahouse. She looked terrible. Her fingernails were so long that they had even been curved; her hair came to her feet; and there were many lice on her torn quilted jacket.

Ci begged a waiter, “Please give me some food.” With that she scratched the noxious sore on the crown of her head and the wound started discharging pus and blood, which rolled down her ears.

The waiter kicked Ci down and cursed, “You dirty beggar! Get out of here!”

Ci struggled to her feet and stretched out her hands. “Please give me some food. I beg you.”

The waiter flew into a rage and picked up a broom to drive her away. “Get out of here!”

Li Qiufeng, who was counting the income with an abacus at the counter, heard the noise outside the gate and became annoyed. He stood up and saw a beggar standing at the gate. Different from other ordinary beggars, she carried a Chinese lute.

“Raise your head,” Li Qiufeng commanded while twisting a long hair in the fleshy nevus on his chin.