Night Talks from Liaozhai

Chapter 4

"Since you truly love Feng'er, I have no objection and will marry Feng'er to you."

Qingfeng had thought her uncle would still object, but to her surprise, the matter was resolved.

So, Xiao'er's family moved back to live with them.

"I am luckier than you." Qingfeng looked at the child running around with Xiao'er and bowed three times to the portrait of Bai Niangzi.

Inside the incense burner, wisps of smoke curled upwards, and Bai Niangzi's eyes seemed filled with doubt.

If you love someone, would you disregard their past?

[Ancient Era: 005 Ah Ying]

A milky white mist drifted through the mountains and fields, like a light veil, gently painting the trees, deepening the black of the trunk and the green of the leaves. A couple of enthusiastic morning glories climbed over thorns and tombstones, trembling and dancing atop the high grave mounds, holding dewdrops clinging to their stamens.

Wang Sheng shook his clothes, which were soaked with dew, with some annoyance. A gust of wind blew by, and the chill seeped into his bones, making him shiver.

However, the air was fresh, birds were chirping, and trees were in full bloom. Breathing was easy, and people were happy. How could they not be happy? Now he was a scholar, and next he would be a successful candidate in the provincial examination. A successful candidate could obtain an official position and no longer have to live on the meager salary he earned from teaching. His wife could have pearl hairpins, and his mother would no longer have to spin yarn every day.

Wang Sheng smiled slightly, thinking about his bright future, and slowed his pace.

He faintly heard the sound of a woman crying. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw a woman in white kneeling beside a new grave by the roadside, sobbing softly. The mournful sound of her crying filled Wang Sheng with pity.

"Why is the young lady so sad?" Seeing her crying so pitifully, Wang Sheng couldn't help but go over and ask.

The woman stopped crying and quietly raised her head. Her delicate, tear-streaked appearance stirred something in Wang Sheng's heart.

“My father and I depended on each other for survival. We came to seek refuge with relatives, but unexpectedly, my father had just passed away from illness. Those relatives actually wanted to sell me to an eighty-year-old man as a concubine. My life is so miserable. I couldn’t help but run to my father’s grave to cry and complain.” After saying this, she started to sob again.

How pitiful! Such a beautiful girl, yet she encountered such misfortune. Beauty is fleeting. Wang Sheng sighed and couldn't help but advise, "Then you should run away. If you escape from here, no one will force you to marry the old man."

"Escape? Where can a weak woman like me escape to?"

"How about this, there is a backyard where I teach, and there is an empty room in the backyard. No one usually goes there. You can go there to take refuge for the time being."

Upon hearing this, the young woman burst into laughter through her tears. She stood up delicately and followed Wang Sheng down the mountain. The mountain path was rugged, and her bound feet stumbled and fell, so Wang Sheng couldn't help but support her.

The private school was originally a temple, but because it wasn't very popular, the villagers overturned the clay statue of a Buddha and used it as a place for students to study. An old monk used to live in the house in the backyard, but he disappeared after the Buddha statue was overturned, probably to find a new temple.

Inside the wooden fences on either side of the temple stood Vajras with missing arms. Though disheveled and dirty, they still glared fiercely and exuded an imposing aura. The woman stopped at a distance, not daring to approach.

"Don't be afraid, young lady." Wang Sheng gently took her hand and led her around to the back door, into the courtyard.

The room was quite clean. When Wang Sheng was teaching, he would rest here at noon. It was fully equipped with a table, chairs, and a bed.

"My name is Aying," the woman said softly, her head bowed.

During the day, Wang Sheng taught, and A Ying would do some needlework in the backyard, which Wang Sheng would then sell to others to exchange for rice, flour, oil, and salt, so they could make ends meet.

Although the two exchanged loving glances, they did not do anything inappropriate in the following days.

One night, a sudden downpour began, accompanied by thunder. Wang Sheng got up, put on his clothes, and worried about Aying, who lived alone in the private school.

"Flash flood! Flash flood!" someone shouted at the street corner.

Wang Sheng hurriedly grabbed a rain blanket and rushed into the rain without waiting for his wife's questions.

"Wang Sheng?" Ah Ying opened the door tremblingly, threw herself into Wang Sheng's arms, who was soaked in the rain, and cried aggrievedly.

The sound of rain and thunder had already terrified her, and the roar of the mountain torrents made her think the sky was about to collapse.

Wang Sheng held the petite, trembling girl in his arms and comforted her softly.

"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid."

The rain cast a heavy veil over the earth, and the thunder drowned out the joys and sorrows of lovers.

Who can truly know the fate between whom? Right or wrong, the flower withered from the very beginning.

Flowers bloom and then wither; when it's time to bear fruit, it will bear fruit.

Ah Ying is pregnant.

Leaving a pregnant woman to live in the middle of nowhere is not a good idea. Wang steeled himself and stammered out the whole story to his wife.

Wang's wife had already suspected his recent habit of leaving early and returning late, and once the facts were laid bare, she was stunned for a long time. After all, she was a young lady from a wealthy family, the wife of a scholar, and had been taught the three obediences and four virtues of women. So, she chose a day and brought Aying home in a sedan chair.

She offered tea to her sister. Ah Ying slowly knelt down and greeted the Queen's wife according to custom.

Looking over, Wang's wife saw a petite woman with delicate eyebrows and eyes, not particularly beautiful, yet her speech and mannerisms were exceptionally alluring, exuding a foxy charm. She immediately felt disgusted.

Since bringing Ah Ying into his home, Wang Sheng believed that their relationship was now legitimate. He became increasingly intimate with Ah Ying, spending day and night together, and no longer cared about pursuing fame and fortune.

Wang's wife had married him hoping he would amount to something, but to her dismay, he devoted himself entirely to a woman he had picked up. She was furious and secretly plotted a solution.

On the day of the market, Wang's wife urged Wang Sheng to go to the market himself. Wang Sheng was thinking of buying some face powder for Aying, so he went eagerly.

The market was bustling with people, and Wang Sheng was dazzled by the variety of goods. He hadn't expected everything to be so expensive. Gritting his teeth, he picked up a pretty but cheap pearl hairpin and tucked it into his pocket. After paying the silver, he hurried back home.

Just as he was about to get angry after being bumped in the face, he looked up and saw an old Taoist priest. He knew that such a person was sharp-tongued and that he would not gain any advantage if he argued with him. So he tried to avoid him and continue on his way. But the Taoist priest suddenly widened his eyes and grabbed Wang Sheng's clothes.

"What are you going to do? You're the one who hit him." Wang Sheng thought to himself, should he take action? Judging from his old and frail appearance, he wouldn't be able to get the better of him. However, he was just a schoolteacher and could not possibly resort to violence.

"What have you encountered recently?" The Taoist priest didn't hit me, but just stared at me with wide eyes.

"I didn't encounter anything," Wang Sheng said, somewhat puzzled.

The Taoist priest said, "You are surrounded by evil spirits, how can you say you haven't encountered anything?"

Wang Sheng tried his best to defend himself, but the Taoist priest, seeing that he refused to admit it, slowly walked away, muttering, "It's all over. There really are people in this world who don't realize their mistakes even when they're about to die!"

After hearing the Taoist's unusual words, Wang Sheng, though not believing in superstition, felt his legs go weak and his body feel light, as if something was wrong.

He listlessly trudged home, not even bothering to go into the front yard, and went straight to Ah Ying's room. He tried to push the door open, but it was firmly shut. He figured Ah Ying wouldn't go out, so why would she keep the door closed in broad daylight? He slowed his pace and went to the window, poked a hole in the window paper with his finger, and peeked inside.

But then he saw a hairy, burly man with his back to him spreading a human-shaped leather object on the bed, slowly sketching out the eyebrows and eyes with a colored pen. The eyebrows and eyes looked remarkably like Ah Ying's. Just as Wang Sheng was about to call for help, the man turned around, revealing fangs, a multicolored face, and fierce eyes. He looked even more terrifying than the Vajra statue beside the private school. Had Ah Ying been eaten by a demon?

Wang Sheng's hands and feet went limp, and he scrambled to the front yard, where he told his wife about his encounter with the Taoist priest and the monster.

"I knew something was wrong. What is a woman who looks so bewitching if not a demon? It's all your fault for bringing this demon into the house. Now the whole family is going to suffer. Why don't you hurry up and find that Taoist priest who can exorcise demons!" Wang's wife cried and cursed.

Wang Sheng hurried to the market, searching everywhere for the Taoist priest. The Taoist priest was sitting under a tree by the roadside, as if he had been waiting for Wang Sheng. When he saw him arrive, a smile appeared on his lips, and he gently stroked his beard with a hint of smugness.

"See? I was right."

"Master, save me!" Upon seeing the Taoist priest, Wang Sheng bowed deeply to the ground and clung to his robes, refusing to let go.

"Let go, and I will save you. This whisk will keep you safe. When you get home, hang it on your door, and the demon will run away when it sees it."

Following the Taoist's advice, Wang Sheng hid in his wife's room that night, hanging a Buddhist whisk outside the door. He huddled under the covers, trembling with fear, while listening intently to any sounds outside.

As darkness fell, moonlight peeked through the crack in the door. Heavy footsteps approached, and Wang Sheng trembled, clutching his blanket, too afraid to look. He heard the demon reach the door, mutter a few curses, and then turn and leave.

"That was terrifying! So scary!" Wang's wife said to everyone, clutching her chest. "With such long hair and such long nails, it was going to eat people. Thank goodness for the Taoist's whisk."

Over the next two years, Wang Sheng gradually forgot about A Ying and dared not think of her, focusing solely on his studies for the sake of officialdom. As expected, he lived up to expectations and became a successful candidate in the provincial examination.

The scholar who passed the imperial examination with him invited him to visit Hangzhou.

On West Lake, the boats gently rocked, and the boats were filled with the sounds of people. Away from the eyes of ordinary people, these scholars began to indulge in unrestrained behavior.

It would be unrefined to have wine without music, so someone invited singing girls from a nearby painted boat.

The courtesan, dressed in a light pink gown, with delicate eyebrows and eyes, held a pipa in her arms, gently plucking and singing. Her gaze wandered among the guests, but gradually settled on Wang Sheng, and for a moment her eyes filled with tears.

"The cicadas chirp mournfully, as evening falls on the long pavilion, the sudden rain just ceasing. At the city gate, the farewell feast is joyless; just as we linger, reluctant to part, the orchid boat urges our departure. Holding hands, we gaze at each other with tearful eyes, speechless, choked with emotion. Thinking of the journey ahead, a thousand miles of misty waves, the twilight deepening over the vast Chu sky. Since ancient times, love has been wounded by parting, how much more so on this desolate autumn day. Where will I be when I wake from my drunken stupor tonight? On the willow bank, in the dawn breeze and under the waning moon. In the years to come, all the beautiful days and scenes will be in vain. Even if I possess a thousand kinds of feelings, to whom can I speak?" The singing was melodious and sorrowful, ending with a sob.

The scholars were speechless for a moment. One of the rough men, impatient, shouted, "We invited you here to liven things up, but you sing these tunes. Are you looking for a beating?" With that, he threw a cup of wine at him.

Wang Sheng sighed inwardly, noticing that the woman looked very familiar. Her clothes were soaked with wine, and she pleaded pitifully. Wang Sheng tossed her a tael or two of silver, but the woman refused to leave, glancing at him.

"Does the young master still remember Ah Ying?"

"Ah Ying?!" Wang Sheng was stunned. He looked closely and realized it was indeed Ah Ying! Startled, he knocked over his cup and cried for help. "A ghost! A ghost! This woman is a ghost!"

Startled, the crowd, emboldened by the wine, rose up in anger and attacked, but the frail woman was beaten to death. Seeing that she was still, the bolder members of the crowd reached out to check her breath.

"Dead? Not a ghost, right?" Yes, a ghost should reveal its true form when it dies.

Someone asked Wang Sheng why he said she was a ghost, causing people to commit murder. Wang Sheng then recounted his encounter with Ah Ying and the Taoist priest's exorcism from the beginning.

"What ghost? It must be your wife who was jealous and bribed a Taoist priest to have someone dress up as a ghost to scare you, but then sold Ah Ying to a brothel."

Upon reflection, Wang Sheng realized there was some truth to it. If it were truly a ghost, how could it be so easily dealt with? However, Ah Ying was dead, and no one knew the details anymore.

To shirk responsibility, everyone fabricated the story of "Painted Skin," claiming that Ah Ying was a female ghost.

[Ancient Era: 006 Three Lives]

1. Past Events

Late Ming Dynasty.

The singing and dancing along the Qinhuai River never ceased. To the ethereal strains of the zither, I danced lightly, dressed in a gown as vibrant as the sunset. The high-ranking officials and nobles around me would occasionally slam their hands on the table and clap their hands, their sharp shouts piercing the flickering candlelight and scattering a scattering of crimson dust on the painted boat.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, watching his lips move between the wine and the wine, drawing back and forth, drawing back and forth again. A faint melancholy settled between his brows, forming a raised peak, a misty ridge, a heart heavy with unspoken thoughts, a tangled mess. Why was he so forlorn?

I gently bent my slender waist to the music, and I saw his upside-down eyebrows and eyes, and the sake he had placed on the table. As our eyes met, I picked up a cup of sake with my pearly teeth, and the slightly spicy liquid slid from my lips to my throat. My eyes filled with tears, and I painfully met his gaze, becoming intoxicated all the way.

The shadows around us were crowded and noisy. But we just watched each other quietly, watching each other's pain and resentment. In an instant, it felt like a thousand years had passed. My heart shattered, and a love that seemed to have been intertwined across lifetimes was mingled between us.

I don't know what his name is in this life, but tonight I sing and dance for him. For him alone.

Night gradually faded away amidst the decadence of the Southern Dynasties.

Still hungover, I leaned lazily against the window, my face pale and unpainted, my eyebrows and makeup unkempt. Suddenly, my mother pushed open the door and came in, ignoring my annoyance, and said with a chuckle, "Daughter, you've met your lucky star!"

Didn't I meet a benefactor that day?! I gave a soft, indifferent snort and continued to drink my slightly cool tea alone, its fragrance tinged with a bittersweet taste.

This is different; he wants to buy your body.

I suddenly splashed the tea in front of her, wetting her pair of bright red embroidered shoes with gold thread.

My mother paced back and forth, anxiously explaining, "I'm only doing this for your own good. In a few years, when you're old and your looks have faded, no matter how pure you are, who will care? You might as well find someone sooner rather than later, and maybe you'll meet someone you like and be able to reform yourself."

It was Yang Longyou, the current head of the Ministry of Personnel, and the host of that banquet that night. Only then did I learn that his name was Hou Chaozong, a close relative of Zuo Liangyu, the Marquis of Ningnan.

The sun sets behind the mountains, and crows choose their trees. On this day, Li Xiangjun, a famous courtesan from the Qinhuai River, marries Hou Chaozong, a newly risen nobleman. The endless brocades and silks, the chests of dowry, make the ladies' eyes gleam with envy and their faces flush with joy.

Chaozong then took out a palace fan, saying that this was the only family heirloom he owned, and the others were all gifts from friends. I smiled and accepted it with care.

That night, amidst the clouds and rain, lovers mingled and their passions raged, the wind trembled the flowers, and peach blossoms were secretly scattered.

I awoke to find the sun already high in the sky. Chaozong calmly painted my eyebrows, applying a touch of pale yellow. In the bronze mirror, mandarin ducks played in the water; what more could I ask for in this life?

However, the court was weak, and war raged. I knew Chaozong's thoughts and sorrows. Looking out the window at the peach blossoms in full bloom, countless petals fallen, I said, "Go, go where you should go, do what you should do."

Day after day, I endure loneliness; day after day, I endure longing. I admire his concern for the world before his own, and I love his love that transcends others' desires. I firmly believe that he will return, he will.