Explore Chapter 4 of 'Moment in Peking' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
They disembarked at Dong'e and rode in sedan chairs eastward toward Tai'an. On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, Mulan admired the moon near Dongping Lake and felt utterly carefree and happy. The next day at about three in the afternoon, they arrived at the Zeng family residence in Tai'an City. Two servants of Master Zeng had already walked ahead to announce their arrival, and even the prefect and the county magistrate came out of the West Gate to welcome them. Children in the street, some half-naked, swarmed around the gate to watch them, spreading news of the renowned official's return that stirred the whole city. Mulan shared in this glory. It was only when she witnessed the Zeng family's triumphant homecoming that Mulan realized the importance of family and the benefits of being born into an official's household. Although her own family was immensely wealthy and well-managed, neither her father nor her grandfather had ever held an official position.
The Zeng residence was near the East Gate, close to the city wall. Though not as grand as the mansions of princes in Beijing City, it was ingeniously designed and solidly built. In front of the main gate, long white walls extended on both sides, following the conventions of grand mansions. Two stone lions guarded the entrance, and a four-paneled green wooden screen stood just inside the gate, blocking the view from outside. Beyond the screen, the front courtyard was planted with flowers and trees, with a stone path leading to the front hall, whose enormous vermilion pillars and green rafters were exquisitely crafted. As Mulan rounded the screen, she caught a faint fragrance and saw two osmanthus trees in full bloom. Suddenly, a strange feeling arose in her-that this should be her home. It seemed so full of a family atmosphere, so well-suited to her own inclinations.
In the center of the open hall stood a short, well-dressed old woman leaning on a red-lacquered cane. She wore a black headband that slanted downward on both sides, with a piece of green jade in the middle. This was the grandmother. Master Zeng quickly mounted the steps and made a deep bow.
Every woman stepped forward to pay their respects to the old lady. The first thing was to present the newborn granddaughter to her. The old lady said the child was well-developed and that even though it was a girl, it was still good. Guijie felt honored.
The grandmother was overjoyed. With her entire family flesh and blood back by her side, she now felt life was worth living. She said the grandsons had grown a lot, especially Pingya. Then she cradled her chubby grandson Sunya in her arms. She said she never expected Guijie to become such a beautiful woman and a mother, and that she remembered her as a sallow, skinny little girl just a few days ago.
The old grandmother kept talking without stopping, and everyone listened quietly, eager to hear what she had to say. She was the head of the family, and during a family reunion, it was naturally women's business to talk, while men had no part in it. Zeng Wenpu sat respectfully aside like everyone else. However, he introduced Mulan to the old lady, briefly explaining that she was a friend's daughter who had gotten lost along the way. Someone brought Mulan before the old lady, who looked at her and said:
The old lady added, "Tomorrow I'll send for Manniang to come and play with Mulan. She has grown a lot too. She was here half a month ago! You see, in a few years, I will become a great-grandmother."
Everyone looked at Pingya and laughed, and it was his turn to feel embarrassed. Manniang was a relative of the Zeng children, the daughter of the old lady's brother-in-law's family. Her surname was Sun, and her father was a scholar who lived in modest circumstances. But the old lady loved her beauty and cleverness and had long intended for her to marry Pingya. Although she was not actually a "child bride," she was often invited to stay at the Zeng residence whenever her family didn't need her help at home. Since the Zeng family was the most distinguished in the city, with spacious and magnificent gardens, Manniang naturally enjoyed spending extended periods there and had become very familiar with her cousins.
Sunya secretly pinched Mulan and led her out. They first walked across a large courtyard paved with old, smooth flagstones quarried from the nearby mountains. Then they reached the rear hall. Mulan saw that this second courtyard's hall was even more magnificent than the first front hall. The first hall was elegant and delicate, while this one was built with massive fine timbers, emphasizing natural simplicity.
Turning west, they passed through a corridor that connected to the inner courtyard. There were also buildings on the north side, and Mulan was dazzled. At the end of the corridor, a gate opened westward into a garden with many pear trees and a few cypresses. Beyond the rooftops and the city wall, Mount Tai was visible in the distance.
"You'll know when you see it. It's much bigger than the Western Hills in Beijing. You can see the sea from the top. You can't see the sea from the Western Hills."
And so the matter that threatened to become their first quarrel was smoothed over. Sunya climbed up his familiar pear tree, and Mulan watched from below with admiration. She found the place utterly enchanting, and they did not return until a servant called them.
The next day, Manniang arrived. She was a simple girl from a small town, brought up under the tutelage of a pedantic father and educated in the old-fashioned way for girls. The old-style education did not primarily consist of classical learning-which occupied only a small part-but focused on proper conduct, as reflected in the four traditional aspects of female education: women's "virtue, speech, appearance, and work." These four aspects represented the universally recognized standard of a good education for women, to be instilled from girlhood. Ancient women received such training during their maiden years and were expected to practice these principles, especially those who could read and write. There was an ideal, clearly defined and deeply rooted, with ancient precedents set by virtuous wives and good mothers, along with a simple, straightforward set of rules. Roughly speaking: politeness was paramount, because a virtuous woman must be polite, and a polite woman could not fail to be virtuous. "Womanly virtue" consisted of diligence, thrift, gentleness, obedience, and harmony with family members. "Womanly appearance" meant cleanliness and order. "Womanly speech" meant humility and courtesy, not spreading gossip, not discussing private matters, and not complaining to her husband about her sisters-in-law or brothers. "Womanly work" included cooking proficiency, skill in sewing and embroidery, and, if born into a scholarly family, the ability to read and write, some knowledge of poetry, but not too deep an indulgence that would distract from duties. She should have a smattering of historical anecdotes, and it was even better if she could paint a little. Of course, such literary accomplishments must never overshadow women's proper duties; they were merely seen as aids to a deeper understanding of life, not to be overemphasized. Literature, in this view, was a pastime to cultivate the heart and a decorative embellishment of womanly virtue. Also, a point in womanly virtue was that women must never be jealous; therefore, magnanimity in a woman proved her virtue. A man with such a virtuous wife often felt grateful and considered himself fortunate, envied by friends. Chastity, needless to say, was sacred for women, but men could not be expected to observe it. Roughly speaking, chastity was observed by nine out of ten unmarried women, though among wealthy families' maidservants only four or five observed it, while women of higher families almost all did. Chastity was a kind of love; daughters were taught that this love should be regarded as holy, and their bodies should never be touched by men, to "keep their bodies pure as jade." During adolescence, the ideal of sex was important in a girl's faith and had a direct influence on her desire to remain chaste. Sexual maturity during girlhood made her feminine characteristics prominent, inviting the attention of "gentlemen seeking a good mate," which was only natural.
Manniang was a perfect example of this classical woman, so much so that later, in the early years of the Republic, she seemed a rare antique, like a beauty painting from an ancient book. In modern times, such a type is elusive and impossible to find. Manniang had beautiful eyelashes, a beautiful smile, teeth as neat as rows of jade, and a beautiful appearance. When Mulan first saw her, she was fourteen years old and already had bound feet. Mulan, lively and outgoing herself, loved Manniang's quiet elegance. They slept in a room in the inner courtyard, and before long, Manniang became like an older sister to Mulan. This was the first time in her life that Mulan made a friend, and the deeper their friendship grew, the more she admired her. Mulan was a girl of deep affection; apart from her sister Mochou and her parents, she had never poured out such warm love for anyone else.
Since the outbreak of the Boxers, Zeng Wenpu felt the children had neglected their studies, so he hired an old pedant to teach them at home. The tutor, whose surname was Fang, was sixty years old, married, but without children. He lived in a room in the eastern outer courtyard of the Zeng residence, right next to the study. He wore a small queue, spectacles, and was very strict, never seeming to like children. However, his tone when speaking to the girls was relatively gentle.
After breakfast, the children began their lessons. Around eleven o'clock, the girls finished, while the boys continued until lunchtime. Both boys and girls studied the Book of Songs and the Five Types of Legacy. The essays in the Five Types dealt with ways of life, school rules, filial piety, and methods of study. In terms of lessons, the girls naturally outperformed the boys, except that Pingya could recite the texts fluently by heart. When reciting, the girls were always called first, so the teacher's temper was still good at the beginning, but as the day wore on and evening approached, his mood grew increasingly irritable.
When someone stumbled during recitation, the children would quietly prompt them to deceive the teacher. When it was time to recite, the student would walk to the teacher's desk, place the book on it, turn around with back to the teacher, and begin reciting as smoothly as possible, swaying left and right, shifting weight from one leg to the other. This swaying sometimes blocked the teacher behind, giving the reciting student a chance to receive help from classmates, who could whisper hints or even open the book for him to peek.
Manniang sometimes made mistakes or skipped lines. She was timid, had a weaker memory than Mulan, and moreover had to recite in front of her future husband. But when Pingya tried to help her, she became even more flustered. In truth, she thought it more important to maintain dignified grace before her betrothed than to win the teacher's praise.
Mulan rarely had difficulty with her studies. So when the two girls slept in the same bed at night, Mulan would ask Manniang about footbinding, and Manniang would suddenly ask Mulan which lines followed which in the book. Then they would discuss passages in the Book of Songs that the teacher refused to explain-those about eloping lovers, about "the modest, retiring maiden, the gentleman's good mate; seeking her but not obtaining her, he tosses and turns," and about a woman with seven children still wanting to remarry, which got them all excited. The teacher deliberately skipped these passages during instruction, only having them memorize them. Jingya once tried to embarrass the girls by asking the teacher why a mother of seven children was still "restless at home." The teacher merely told him in a few curt words that it was a satire on disloyal ministers and left it at that.
In the private school, Manniang's discomfort and unhappiness were evident. When the teacher left for his own room, the students were supposed to read new lessons or practice calligraphy, but the boys would say things that made Manniang blush. Around eleven o'clock, when she and Mulan left the school, her heart was happiest. The girls had shorter study hours because the grandmother insisted that girls should not study too much, fearing that too much learning would harm their natural simplicity. Besides, they had so much needlework to do. So Mulan and Manniang often went to the inner courtyard, to Mrs. Zeng's room or the old grandmother's room, to do needlework while chatting about recent family matters.
At such times, Manniang felt very happy, for this was what a girl should do. Mulan liked embroidery because she loved colors and was fascinated by brightly colored silk threads. She loved all colors-the colors of rainbows, rosy clouds, clouds, jade and gems, parrots, flowers after rain, corn just about to ripen, and the translucence of amber. She often peered through a prism her father had given her. The spectrum reflected by the prism was a mystery she never tired of gazing at.
One day, Sunya sneaked away from the private school and came to his mother's room to be with the girls. When his mother asked why he had left, he said his stomach ached. Guijie said, "He's so young. It's unreasonable to expect a boy of eleven to read through all the books in the world."
"Good Aunt," Sunya said, "could you speak to Father? I usually finish my lessons by this time. Sitting there is so boring. I don't study the Elementary Learning or Mencius, that's for Eldest Brother and Second Brother."
Now Sunya was very fond of Mulan, but Mulan was not particularly fond of him; he was too naughty. Seeing that Mulan was embroidering a small tobacco pouch, he went over and said he wanted to embroider too. Mulan wouldn't give it to him, so he grabbed it, pulling the thread out of the needle's eye.
Sunya tried again and again but couldn't get the thread through, making the girls and his mother laugh.
Jingya and Sunya often teased Manniang by calling her "sister-in-law," since she was Pingya's betrothed. Manniang would grit her teeth and say, "I've never seen children like you brothers." But secretly she enjoyed being called that, as it made her position in the Zeng family clear.
Mulan also said, "Sister-in-law, thread it for him." This was a slip, as Mulan had no kinship with the Zeng family.
Manniang said to Mulan, "You too! One day I might really become your sister-in-law." Guijie said, "Perhaps one day you will. Then wouldn't she also become a member of our Zeng family?"
Mulan blushed. Now someone was teasing her, and Manniang felt smug. Manniang took the thread from Sunya's hand, threaded the needle, and returned it to Mulan. But Sunya would not give up so easily; he grabbed the tobacco pouch again, insisting on embroidering something. Mulan pouted and threw the needle and thread at him, saying:
This was the first time Mulan and Sunya collaborated. Tassels were lovely things, as colorful as embroidery, and could be made with various color combinations. They were used on fans, tobacco pouches, water pipes, bed curtains, and even on Grandmother's spectacle case, which was hung from the button on the right side of her jacket with a silk cord. There were many shades of colored threads-green, peach, blue, red, yellow, orange, white, purple, black-to choose from and match, along with gold and silver threads. For different embroidery patterns, fine silk threads were used, while tassels required stronger, thicker threads, making them easier for children to make. Mulan and Sunya both learned to make knots, using embroidery threads tied to special metal wires. There were many varieties to make-butterfly knots, plum blossom knots, round knots, double happiness knots, eight-treasure knots (also called Dharma wheel knots), clam shell knots, umbrella knots, canopy knots, lotus knots, vase knots, carp knots, and the immortal knot without head or tail. Mulan and Sunya particularly liked the ancient coin tassel, because it was both beautiful and simple. You wrapped different colored silk threads around a coin to form a fixed pattern, giving an opportunity to match colors, and the knot was attached to a bundle of tassels. Each of them made one for Mrs. Zeng to see, competing to see who made the neatest and with the prettiest colors.
Mrs. Zeng was somewhat indulgent toward her youngest son, Sunya. Watching Sunya and Mulan play together innocently, making knots and tassels, she saw that Mulan was undoubtedly brighter than her own son. And so a thought came to her mind. Unconsciously, she became more affectionate and concerned for Mulan.
After lunch, Manniang picked up her embroidery again. Mrs. Zeng said, "Manniang, why are you embroidering right after eating? Sitting still all this time will make you ill. Today is White Dew. Take your younger sister and brother to the garden to see the cranes and gather some of their fallen feathers. You and Mulan haven't been to the garden for several days."
Although the garden was surrounded by high walls, Manniang would never go there alone without company, as was proper for a girl. She had heard her father say that in Chinese plays and stories, women's downfall and romantic affairs often began in the back garden. She also disliked going when the boys were playing there, especially if Pingya was alone.
A few weeks before, right after he arrived home, he immediately put on his official robe and hat to attend the celebration of the Earth God's birthday. This day sometimes fell before the autumnal equinox, sometimes after, but always in the eighth month. As the saying goes, if the autumnal equinox comes before the Earth God's birthday, the year's harvest is good; if it comes late, the year is lean. This year, the Earth God's birthday was late, and the common people were overjoyed.
After the sacrifice, Zeng Wenpu came home and stored away his official robe and hat. In the Zeng household, if there was anything sacred and inviolable, it was his official attire. Children were strictly forbidden to touch it. It was always Mrs. Zeng herself who took care of it, not allowing anyone else, because official robes and hats were symbols of authority, emblems of family status, and gifts from the emperor, kept in a special cabinet along with official boots and elegant fans. There were also relics of the grandfather, who had been a vice minister of the Board of Revenue. The children kept a respectful distance and never thought of touching them.
Later, when an imperial commissioner passed through, Zeng Wenpu took out his hat and robe, only to find, to his great dismay, that some insect had damaged the peacock feather on his official hat. The brim of the hat was worn, the hat was wrinkled, and the high crest on top had drooped. Mr. Zeng demanded an explanation. Mrs. Zeng, terrified, could not explain the cause, as this had never happened before. Suddenly, Mr. Zeng heard a cricket chirping near the cabinet. He caught one and discovered a hole in the shelf beneath it, from which the cricket had probably crawled.
Sunya was terrified and quickly said, "I raised it. But I don't know how it escaped from the cricket jar." Sunya did not run away at that moment but stood there watching his father throw the cricket to the ground and crush it under his official boot. That cricket had been brave and combative, having once defeated Jingya's cricket. Although Sunya was heartbroken, he was too scared to cry. He had no idea how the cricket had gotten out of its jar and crawled under the cabinet.
His father asked him, "Don't you have any other place to raise crickets? Must you bring them inside the house?" If it hadn't been his youngest son but the two older ones, they would not have gotten off with just a scolding. Because Sunya was younger, his father was somewhat partial. The matter passed, but Mr. Zeng was still angry the next day. He had felt embarrassed when his colleagues saw the wrinkles on his peacock feather at the banquet, though no one said anything.
Manniang, Mulan, Sunya, and Ailian went together to play in the garden. They walked straight across the bridge to the far end of the garden, where two cranes were kept. After seeing the cranes, they strolled on the lawn. Manniang was looking for balsam flowers, whose juice could dye fingernails red. Sunya was not interested in crane feathers or nail-dyeing flowers; his mind was set on finding another cricket. So he wandered alone to the other side of the bridge, listening carefully for the chirping of crickets under the stones by the wall.
The girls suddenly heard a bird's loud call. Turning around, they saw Pingya and Jingya coming. The bird call had been made by Pingya, followed by Jingya's whistle. The boys charged toward them, shouting that school was canceled because the teacher had taken ill with dysentery and had gone home to recover. Sunya told them to be quiet, as he thought he might be on the verge of catching a strong, loud-voiced cricket. Just by its chirping, one could tell a good cricket from a bad one. A cricket with a big head and thick legs must be a good fighter, called a "general."
The girls continued looking for balsam flowers. When Manniang found one, Mulan asked her how to dye fingernails with balsam.
"You need several flowers," Manniang said. "Pound them into a paste, add a little alum, and apply it to the ring finger and little finger. Do this for several mornings, using dew, and it will dye them red." Mulan admired Manniang for knowing all these little details of women's lore. Although she had seen Qingxia dye her fingernails before, Qingxia had never told her what was used. Shanhu was a widow and never dyed her nails red, and Mulan's mother was over forty and considered such girlish trifles beneath her.
Soon the girls heard shouts of joy and ran to see Sunya. He had caught an excellent cricket: big, with a well-shaped head, strong legs, and particularly long, straight antennae. It was completely reddish-brown. Pingya said that type was called a "red bell," good for both fighting and chirping. He immediately ran back to fetch his own fighting cricket to match it. But Sunya didn't want his cricket to fight right away, yet he couldn't refuse the challenge. So he let the cricket crawl from one palm to the other for a long time to agitate it. Soon the cricket's antennae stood up, its eyes brightened, and its two large teeth opened and closed, looking fierce, moving with a stately, rhythmic speed.
They cleared a space on dry ground and placed the two crickets face to face. But they didn't let them charge immediately. After letting them bristle and show off for a while, they released them. The two were clearly mismatched. In a formal bout, this would not be allowed, as the two combatants must be weighed to ensure equal weight. Although Pingya's smaller "general" was jet-black, shiny, well-proportioned, and fiercely spirited, after a few rounds it lost one antenna.
Mulan, sentimental and sensitive, felt the fight was a terrible slaughter. In her young mind, they were like huge beasts in armor, their huge mouths and fangs weapons to devour opponents, and their legs had spikes like teeth that could cut the enemy. To her, it was like watching lions fight. The cricket's body was perfectly formed, its head smooth and shiny, the colors of its back armor exquisitely subtle and complete, its legs as black and glossy as Fuzhou lacquer. Mulan could not bear to see either one hurt, but she was convinced the smaller one would die. So she called Ailian away.
Manniang was different. She was timid, not even daring to touch insects or butterflies. But she continued watching because Pingya's cricket was about to lose. She wanted them to stop the fight and pleaded with Pingya. However, Pingya's general was winning. The big cricket was injured in the head and seemed truly enraged. Pingya wanted to see the outcome, so the fight continued. The boys used a grass blade softened at the tip to tickle the crickets' antennae. Finally, Pingya's general had one hind leg crippled and fell over. Before it could get up, the big cricket bit it fiercely. Manniang, horrified, clutched Pingya's arm, deeply distressed.
The small cricket finally stood up again, but was exhausted and soon killed by the opponent's big teeth. The victor stood proudly, triumphant.
After Mulan and Ailian had left, Jingya, having no cricket of his own worth fighting against the generals, went with them. Jingya was not as smart as his elder and younger brothers; he lacked their openness, ease, and sociability. He was naturally hesitant, indecisive, and did not speak clearly or resolutely. He was often silent, and when he did speak, it was not crisp or straightforward. Sometimes he would say something and then repeat it, as if checking whether he had said it correctly. Because of his father's strictness, he felt more oppressed and lacked self-confidence. The world was already difficult enough for him; making decisions was a heavy burden. In his mind, it was something like this:
"I don't have a good cricket, do I? A cricket as good as Sunya's is something you can't find just anywhere. I think I can't find one. Maybe I could, but probably I won't find one that good. Perhaps I could, but nine times out of ten I won't. There's no point in wasting time looking for one. Even if I do find one, it won't be that good. And besides..." He would then get stuck in his own thoughts, leaving things unresolved, just shifting his mind to something else.
He went into the orchard grove and found Mulan, thinking they could look for cicada sloughs. In that month, cicadas molt and slowly emerge from their shells, just as a woman slowly slips out of a tight garment. The cicada emerges through a split in the back, leaving the dry shell-complete with head, body, legs, and feet-stuck on a branch. The difference from a woman removing tight clothing is that the cicada shell is transparent. Jingya saw a cicada shell on a jujube tree and climbed up, which gave him a mischievous idea to play a trick on Mulan. The lowest branch was seven or eight feet from the ground, but Mulan, persuaded by him, thought it novel and also wanted to climb.
She was terrified and didn't know what to do. Her foot slipped, and she grabbed a higher branch, trying to steady her foot on a lower one, but she couldn't reach it. As she hung in midair, Jingya clapped and laughed, finding amusement in seeing Mulan's figure beneath her jacket. Mulan was so scared that she lost her grip and fell from a height of about ten feet. Her head struck a protruding stone, and she lay on the ground unconscious. Ailian quickly called for help. Jingya, seeing blood on Mulan's temple, immediately ran away.
Pingya, Sunya, and Manniang were horrified to see Mulan unconscious. There was blood on her face and the ground was stained red. Ailian cried in fright, and the boys ran into the house, screaming, "Mulan is dead!"
A male servant rushed to the garden, followed by Mrs. Zeng and the maidservant. Zeng Wenpu, who had been napping, was awakened and followed. Guijie, who happened to be in the front yard, was the last to hear the news. She had been feeding a parrot when she heard, and thinking Mulan was dead, she dropped a basin of water, splashing it all over her jacket and trousers. Then, moving her delicate bound feet, she hurried forward, steadying herself against the wall and the veranda pillars.
Someone carried Mulan into Mrs. Zeng's room, where the old grandmother was waiting anxiously. They laid Mulan on the kang. The boys, stunned, followed behind. Manniang kept crying. Guijie began to wash the wound on her face. The room was packed with people.
When Jingya was dragged into the room, he was already crying, as the servant had told him the master was furious.
As soon as he appeared, his father slapped him on both cheeks. Then he grabbed him by one ear, dragged him to the courtyard, and made him kneel on the ground. The steward interceded, but the master would not listen.
"Are you mad? If the child has done wrong, I am still alive. You should come to me first. Don't raise your hand against my grandson for the sake of someone else's child."
At this critical moment, Guijie called out, "Don't be angry anymore, Master. The child has woken up. Don't worry."
The maidservant hurried over, helped the lady up from the ground, and the male servant carried Jingya into the room, still sobbing. Guijie lifted Jingya's clothes and saw several red-and-purple welts on his back. Mrs. Zeng's heart softened immediately, and she sobbed, "My child! Such suffering! How could you beat him like this?"
Mulan, through a haze, heard the commotion. She remembered how she had fallen, opened her eyes, and said, "Why did you hit Ailian?" She tried to sit up, but was held down. Manniang brought her head close and, seeing Mulan conscious again, wept for joy.
Zeng Wenpu had now retreated to the front courtyard, thinking to himself that he might have been a bit too harsh with his son. When the family discipline was called for, the boys had hidden in the kitchen. Later, hearing that their father had left and everything was over, they returned to their mother's room and found Mulan and Jingya both lying on the kang. Jingya was lying on his side, and Ailian was still crying, adding to the confusion. Pingya and Sunya went in to see Jingya and ask how he was, but Mrs. Zeng shouted at them, "Still wandering around? Go study!" The two slipped away quietly, not knowing what to study, but vaguely aware that spending the afternoon studying would ensure peace.
The grandmother ordered a bowl of herbal medicine to calm Mulan and Jingya after their shock. Mrs. Zeng said Jingya would sleep with her that night, fearing her son might be traumatized, as everyone knew shock could lead to other illnesses. Mulan had lost a lot of blood, but her condition was relatively mild. That night she slept as usual with Manniang. The household was in turmoil all day, and Guijie was busy throughout the evening, frequently applying new plasters to Jingya's back.
For three or four days afterward, there was no school. The teacher was still unwell. Jingya lay on the kang, and since Mulan wasn't going to school, Manniang refused to go either. By the time Mulan and Jingya were well enough to attend, frost had fallen in the garden, autumn winds had risen, and the leaves had turned golden. The grandmother said it was time, following ancient custom, for girls to do needlework and women to weave at night. This was the season when crickets appeared, reminding women to weave. Crickets were also called "weaving spurs," and their chirping sounded like the sound of a loom.
Thus ended Mulan's brief private school life in Shandong. She still saw the boys every day at meals and after school, but Jingya always wore a scowl. He was at an age when boys dislike girls, and his experience had taught him that girls brought trouble. Mulan tried to make peace with him, but he showed no response. Later, this attitude never changed, and he never had any liking for Mulan after that.
Apart from a trip to Mount Tai on the Double Ninth Festival, the girls didn't go out at all. On that day, the whole family went to Mount Tai, except for Mrs. Zeng and Guijie's children, who stayed home. Mrs. Zeng insisted that Guijie go, and she herself stayed to care for the baby, as her leg had been troubling her since autumn. Even the old grandmother went, partly because she enjoyed family gatherings and partly because she was pious and wanted to burn incense at the mountain. The children regained their spirits. Mulan considered the climb to the South Heavenly Gate an unforgettable experience. She and Sunya shared a sedan chair for the last steep section, which was almost vertical. She felt as if she were hanging in midair and clung tightly to Sunya. When she later visited Mount Tai with Sunya again, the situation would be very different.
After passing the dizzying, steep path near the South Heavenly Gate, Mulan had to admit to Sunya that his hometown's Mount Tai was indeed higher than the Western Hills. And Sunya, trying to appear grown-up, made a polite remark to Mulan: he hoped that his humble local hill had lived up to the honor of her distinguished visit.
Guijie had overheard part of the children's conversation. At the Jade Emperor's Hall, she related it to the old grandmother. The old lady said, "Those two little children, already speaking like officials exchanging courtesies!"
The grandmother laughed heartily and said to Sunya, "Third boy, you've learned official talk even before you've become an official! If you really become an official, I'll find a way to make Mulan your titled lady." Such teasing was permissible from an elderly, high-status woman. Manniang said, "Then I'll have to come and pay respects to the official's lady." This too was a joke at Mulan's expense.
These remarks aroused some thoughts in Master Zeng. Earlier, in the courtyard of the Jade Emperor's Temple on the summit of Mount Tai, he had thought of the Zeng ancestors. He calculated and hoped to live to see his three sons grow up and become officials. It seemed to him he could already see them in their boots and official hats. He felt that Pingya was the most upright and decent of the three; he would not succeed as an official but rather as a scholar. Sunya, the youngest, was easygoing, broad-minded, and sociable. Jingya, the second, was quiet and taciturn but behind his silence hid cunning and resourcefulness-he would succeed as an official. However, he had to be strictly guided, his cleverness channeled properly. He also thought that Manniang could help Pingya. If Manniang married into the Zeng family and wed Pingya, she would be a good daughter-in-law. Arranging a match between Mulan and Sunya would probably not be very difficult. And Mulan was naturally intelligent. After the Zeng family's great kindness in rescuing her, it would be unreasonable for Yao Si'an to refuse a marriage proposal from the Zengs. From past events, the marriage between the Yao and Zeng families seemed to be the will of heaven. Looking at Mulan in this light, he felt like her father, as if a heavy burden rested on Mulan's shoulders, and his son's future happiness depended on her. By the time he retired from office at sixty, the Zeng family should be prosperous. He also thought of Jingya and felt that the family picture in his mind was not yet complete. He wondered who would be his second son's wife and what she would be like.
Therefore, he showed unexpected warmth and kindness toward Jingya. During lunch at the temple, he did something he had never done at home: he picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and gave it to Jingya. Jingya was deeply moved by this favor. The grandmother and Guijie watched him, and though he said nothing, they knew that Jingya had received his father's forgiveness.
In front of his children, Zeng Wenpu never praised them, as was his custom. When the boys did not misbehave, they were all "little wretches"; when they did, they were "damned seeds." Even when his wife made a request, he would not say "good." If he didn't object or remained silent, his wife knew it meant consent. He preferred to talk with Manniang, because she was not his son and he did not need to use his stern fatherly tone. So after the meal, he said to Manniang, "Take the boys out to play, but don't go near the She Shen Cliff." She Shen Cliff was a precipice where people had jumped to their deaths.
For the children, this was like a final pardon. They felt that their usually strict father had been unusually gentle and affectionate that day. The outing was perfect. Going downhill seemed to take less than an hour. They saw the county town on the plain below, a perfect square. When they arrived home, dusk had fallen and lamps were lit in thousands of homes.
When they got home that day, there was another important matter: a telegram from Mulan's father. It had been sent a week earlier from Hangzhou and forwarded by mail from the provincial capital. Telegrams were a novelty in those days. The whole family found it hard to believe that a message could arrive from Hangzhou in just seven days. They all wanted to see what a telegram looked like. The telegram said that Master Zeng's great kindness was so immense that Yao Si'an would never be able to repay it, even if he turned into a horse or dog in his next life. It expressed endless thanks and said that Yao Si'an was completely at ease, knowing that Mulan must be as comfortable as at home. It also said that after Minor Snow, around the middle of the tenth month, he would come to the Zeng residence to thank Zeng Wenpu and the whole family. He told Mulan that his family had safely arrived in Hangzhou on the first day of the ninth month, and she should regard Master Zeng and Mrs. Zeng as her renewed parents, obey them and be well-behaved.
That night, Mulan was too excited to sleep. She talked about returning to Hangzhou with her father, and about going back to Beijing, sharing anecdotes of Beijing City that kept Manniang awake. And so Manniang, like any country girl, yearned to go to Beijing.
"You'll go to Beijing someday," Mulan said. "Someone will come with a red sedan chair to take you there."
It was a casual pact between children. No incense was burned, no kneeling to Heaven in the courtyard, no exchange of birth Eight Characters. They took each other's hands, swore before the oil lamp light, and vowed to be sisters forever, supporting each other in hardship. Manniang gave Mulan a small jade peach. Mulan had nothing to give in return.
After this secret vow, Manniang poured out her heart to Mulan. The first thing she said after the oath was: "When you grow up, if you marry Sunya, we'll be in-laws, living together in the same household for life."
"How could I? You are older than me," said Mulan, then paused and added, "Anyway, I don't like boys. I wish I were a boy myself."
Mulan continued, speaking her thoughts more freely: "I wish I were a boy. They have all the advantages. They can go out and meet guests. They can take the exams and become officials, ride horses, and sit in blue velvet sedan chairs. They can travel to famous mountains and great rivers all over the world, read all kinds of books. For example, my brother Tiren, my mother lets him do anything. He can even boss me and my sister around. He often says 'you girls,' and every time I hear that, I get angry."
This was the first time Manniang had heard Mulan mention her brother. She asked, "Is your brother good?"
"My father doesn't know. My mother is afraid of my father too, but she always protects him. Mother is very strict with us girls. I'm also afraid of my mother, but I'm not afraid of my father."
Manniang couldn't refuse. They closed the door so no one would see. Mulan giggled and stretched out her foot. Manniang removed Mulan's shoes and socks, then wrapped her feet tightly with two long white binding cloths, pulling all toes except the big toe together with all her strength. Mulan felt her feet stiffen, unable to move.
Manniang was the only flesh and blood left to carry on the Sun family ancestral line. The old grandmother was very worried and treated Manniang especially well.
The Zeng family had once invited Manniang and her mother to move into the Zeng mansion to keep the old grandmother company. The Sun family owned a few acres of land and a house, and they managed to make ends meet by doing needlework. But the Zeng mansion was spacious, and the old grandmother had only one old maidservant, Aunt Li, for company. Aunt Li was old, frail, and sickly-a dried-up, shriveled, neurasthenic old woman.
The old grandmother refused to go to Beijing with her son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren. She had seen imperial glory and splendor in her youth. Now that her son had risen in the world and she was blessed with good fortune, she thanked Heaven and Earth and became a devout Buddhist, believing deeply in doing good works to accumulate merit for her own next life and to bless her descendants. At the Hall of Judgment under the southwest mountain of Tai'an, she donated four front corridor pillars. She was a major benefactor to the temple monks. When the monks proposed rebuilding the temple-the usual excuse for alms-seeking-she immediately donated four front pillars. The pillars were carved with dragons coiling around them in high relief, emulating the style of the Confucius Temple in Qufu, several miles away. The name "Hall of Judgment" greatly appealed to her, thinking it would win favor with the King of Hell in the underworld. Beneath the hall were the Golden Bridge, the Silver Bridge, and the Bridge of Sorrows, which all souls must cross on the way to the next world. So it was best to get familiar with the route early in life.
Thus the old grandmother insisted on staying in her hometown with Aunt Li, while her son's family lived in Beijing. Although the younger generation all asked the old lady to move to Beijing with them, Mrs. Zeng, like many daughters-in-law, secretly rejoiced that her mother-in-law would not be coming, so she could be the mistress of the house in Beijing alone.
Mrs. Zeng was even more pleased to leave Aunt Li behind. Behind the old grandmother's back, everyone in the household, down to the servants, felt that Aunt Li was a nuisance. Aunt Li's position was not entirely reasonable, and she was meddlesome and irritating. She was a charity case of the Zeng family, but she never showed gratitude. Now she was about fifty, but her childhood had been unusual. As a baby, she had fled with her parents from Anqing to Shandong during the Taiping Rebellion. Her father had been a bodyguard for the old lady's father and had died saving his master. In gratitude, the old lady's family promised to raise the child. When the old lady married into the Zeng family, Aunt Li was a widow, and the old lady managed to bring her to live with them, helping to care for her son, the present Zeng Wenpu. Later, even though she was no longer needed, she had become a fixture in the Zeng household-above the servants but below the family.
Mrs. Zeng initially discovered that Aunt Li was always siding with her husband, so she had to silently endure Aunt Li's meddling, eventually showing more forbearance toward her than toward her own mother-in-law. Later, as Zeng Wenpu's career advanced, Aunt Li behaved as if the Zeng family should support her for life, since she had raised Zeng Wenpu. For his part, Zeng Wenpu felt he had to be tolerant, lest people accuse him of ingratitude. Besides, supporting one more person cost very little-like a drop in the ocean.
As time passed, Aunt Li had less and less to do, but demanded more and more servants to wait on her. She often felt wronged, believing others did not respect her, and would complain about the servants over trivial matters. Mrs. Zeng had to blame the servants, or Aunt Li would throw a tantrum, saying the Zeng family no longer needed her. The old grandmother sided with her, partly to demonstrate the magnanimity of a wealthy scholar-official family toward servants, and partly out of habit. In her declining years, the old lady was glad to have someone to talk to. Aunt Li talked endlessly about the Taiping Rebellion and her father's exploits, so much that the children grew tired of hearing about the Taiping and the fierce generals.
When Manniang's father passed away, the old grandmother decided to formalize the betrothal between Manniang and her eldest grandson. She summoned Pingya from Beijing to Tai'an, because according to her plan, the betrothal ceremony would be grand and required his presence. The betrothal was scheduled immediately after Manniang's father's funeral, and Pingya was to attend that funeral as well.
That spring, Pingya's education was thrown into complete disorder, as the Chinese educational system was changing. The failure of the Boxers marked the defeat of the ultra-conservatives and the beginning of liberal princes and ministers taking power. The ban on marriage between Manchus and Han was lifted, the custom of footbinding was banned, the imperial examination system was abolished, and schools of all levels were established. Graduates who passed examinations were given academic titles corresponding to "tribute student," "recommended man," and "presented scholar." The subjects of study also changed; the eight-legged essay for civil service exams was replaced by essays on current political affairs. Schools opened everywhere, but there was much disagreement about what courses to teach. Zeng Wenpu himself was unsure what subjects his sons should study to prepare for official careers, so he temporarily sent him back to Shandong, accompanied by his mother.
The old grandmother thought it most convenient for Manniang and her mother to observe the traditional forty-nine days of mourning in the Zeng residence before the funeral. So at the start of these forty-nine days, Manniang and her mother moved into the Zeng mansion. The old lady ordered the eastern courtyard to be given to the Sun mother and daughter, also to serve as the temporary funeral hall. In front of the funeral hall hung two large oil-paper lanterns, each with a big black character "Sun" covered by two crossed white paper strips, indicating the Sun family's mourning, and that it was held at the Sun residence. The old lady assigned several male and female servants to help, making things easier for the mother and daughter. The funeral, known to everyone locally as tied to the Zeng family, was attended by local officials and gentry. The old lady had an altar set up in the courtyard and invited monks to chant sutras for the departed soul.
During the "double sevens" period, Manniang, dressed in white mourning clothes, kept vigil with her mother behind the black curtain near the coffin at night. At first, in the darkness, the black curtain, the coffin, and the candles made her tremble with fear, and she huddled close to her mother. During the day, they had to attend to the monks' meals, give tips to the servants of relatives who brought gifts, and handle countless other matters, so she was utterly exhausted. But her heart was truly sorrowful. The atmosphere of the entire forty-nine-day mourning period deepened her grief over her father's death.
With the consent of Pingya's mother, the old grandmother did something unconventional. At that time, Pingya was at most a fiancé; Manniang was not yet, strictly speaking, married into the family. But the old lady desperately wanted a "son-in-law" to participate in the funeral of her nephew. On the day of the public mourning, when many guests came to pay respects, a man was needed to receive them. Most importantly, when guests performed rites before the coffin, someone had to bow in return beside it. At night, Pingya saw that the mother and daughter were exhausted and offered to keep vigil in their place.
Manniang was, of course, endlessly grateful. With the help of their relatives, the funeral could be conducted with dignity and splendor, which benefited both the living and the dead. Another reason for gratitude was that during the funeral procession, Pingya would wear the mourning dress of a son-in-law, and he had already shared the heavy burden of vigil, easing their sorrow. She was even more grateful because after her father's death, her widowed mother and orphaned daughter were left helpless. Having a man in the house brought great comfort. Another reason for gratitude was that, following the grandmother's wish, Pingya no longer called her mother "Aunt" but "Mother."