Chapter8

Distinguished Guest Arrives (Part 1)

The journey back to Shanghai didn’t go as smoothly as Song Qi had anticipated. At the entrance of the train station, nearly a dozen of the You family’s servants were lying in wait. At the time, he still didn’t know that Master You had already been summoned by the government for secretly detaining a student; the people sent to look for him only intended to safely deliver him to the police station.

Song Qi, wearing a bamboo hat, lingered for a long time at a noodle shop near the station entrance before finally deciding to follow an old man transporting chickens in a donkey cart toward Haining, and then depart from the station there. The smell of poultry on the cart was overwhelming. With a man and several chickens bumping over hills together, by the time Song Qi finally made his way to Shanghai, the first thing he did wasn’t to inform his classmates of his safety, but to head straight to a public bathhouse to clean himself.

When he undressed, the men in the adjoining baths were shocked at the scratch marks across his waist and back. They marveled at how vigorous young people were these days and advised him to cherish his prime—after all, by the time a man turns fifty, he has lost all his charm and sex appeal, let alone could he expect to carry such passionate marks again.

Song Qi turned red with embarrassment and immediately submerged most of his body into the bathwater. As he recalled the person responsible for the marks on his body, he suddenly realized—he was now very, very far from that cellar.

By the time he had scrubbed away all traces of Shaoxing, endured the tearful embraces of his classmates, explained his harrowing ten days to his teachers, and finally sat back down in the classroom, Yu Manyi’s life at the Yu household had also completely returned to normal.

…

Shen Yingmei was not accustomed to the name Shen Yingmei, especially after getting married. She was the daughter of the Shen family and, after marrying into the Yu family, had become the Third Young Madam Yu. On paper, she was addressed as “Madam Shen of the Yu family.” Because she had no children, she had never been called “mother” by anyone. Instead, she was simply referred to as “Third Aunt.”

Third Aunt Madam Shen of the Yu family had recently been feeling anxious—extremely anxious.

The first reason for her anxiety, of course, was children. For the past year, Madam Shen’s belly had shown no signs of pregnancy. She couldn’t help shifting the blame from herself to her husband, the third son. Although she couldn't voice her suspicion aloud, once such a thought took root, it was hard to dispel.

Of course, Madam Shen was a woman who knew how to plan ahead. She had been seeking alternative solutions for years, and currently, her most promising one was the well-learned and honest distant nephew who was about to be married into the family. Madam Shen believed that if Yu Manyi gave birth to a child who continued to bear the Yu surname, it might not be entirely convincing, but given the sparse descendants in this generation of the Yu family, who could object?

However, the problem now was that her scholarly and upright nephew hadn’t sent a letter home in over six months.

She rarely spoke of this matter openly. After all, the last time she had brought it up, Yu Manyi had hit her with that shocking line: “free love.” Madam Shen had been furious, and it was hard to deny that her anger stemmed from the way Yu Manyi had bluntly exposed her underlying anxiety—

After all, if Master Yu were to learn of this possibility, her nephew’s studies would certainly be forcibly cut short. Her own position in the Yu household would also become more difficult. The Yu family had made their fortune dealing in land deeds, not charity. Master Yu’s funding of her nephew’s education wasn’t out of kindness, but because he saw the boy as a piece of land worth investing in—and with a marriage contract as collateral, he would force him to repay that support a hundredfold once he finished his studies.In short, in Yu Shen-shi’s previous calculations, Yu Manyi was not important—the important part was the signing of the contract. But the current circumstances made Yu Shen-shi realize that Yu Manyi was still of consequence. If her virtuous nephew had been corrupted by foreign ideologies while studying abroad and had developed thoughts he shouldn’t have, then she would need Yu Manyi to tie his heart back to the family, dispel those thoughts, and obediently walk into a bridal chamber lit with red candles.

Getting Yu Manyi to do something wasn’t difficult. After all, aside from that one incident of “falling in love freely,” she had never disobeyed her. Especially after being locked in the ancestral hall, she had become even quieter and more subdued than before—her biggest movement was sitting under the fake rock wall in a daze. Yu Shen-shi quite appreciated Yu Manyi’s recent demeanor. If she could remain like this, she wouldn’t mind pretending to treat her like her own daughter.

That day, as Yu Manyi was once again spacing out beneath the rock garden, she saw Third Aunt—who hadn’t spoken to her in a long while—approaching.

She smiled at her. Yu Manyi felt uneasy; after all, the last time she smiled like that at the silk shop, her face turned soon after. But this time, she didn’t seem to intend to change face. Yu Manyi stood up, saw her leaning her lower back against a protruding part of the fake mountain, slightly bent over, her gaze level with hers as she spoke. Yu Manyi tried hard to read her lips and decipher her speech, and finally caught the true intent hidden within the fragmented, insincere greetings—

She said that since Yu Manyi was literate, she wanted her to write a letter across the ocean to her cousin.

“I don’t know what to say,” Yu Manyi said, utterly lost.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Third Aunt frowned briefly, then quickly smoothed her expression. “Write about what you do every day waiting for him to return. Write that the elders of the Yu family eagerly hope he completes his studies. Say you’re curious about his life over there. If that’s still not enough…”

Third Aunt forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and said, “I’ll take you to work at his parents’ house, and you can write that in the letter too. Let him know your sincerity, so he’ll feel guilty and won’t abandon you.”

It had been another half a year since that autumn when Song Qi left. She had spent the entire winter alone. Spring had arrived, but its warmth couldn’t penetrate the depths of the Yu family compound. Standing beneath the rock garden, Yu Manyi listened for the first time as Third Aunt spoke to her as if from the heart—but it was all tactics for dealing with men. Persuasion with benefit, temptation, guilt—yet not a single word about love.

After finishing her monologue, Third Aunt let out a long sigh and asked, “Did you remember all that?”

Yu Manyi nodded, though in truth, she couldn’t recall a single detail. As soon as the conversation ended, she was pushed into the study. Third Aunt personally ground the ink, watching her write on the rice paper, reading each sentence aloud as she went. If she was dissatisfied, she’d spread out a fresh sheet and make her rewrite it. Yu Manyi had never written something so embarrassing, let alone read it aloud to someone else. She was drenched in sweat, and her wrist ached unbearably.

That letter took her the whole day. After dinner, she was forced to write another half-page of rambling nonsense. After three rounds of revisions, she finally received a kraft paper envelope from Third Aunt, covered in postmarks. Aside from her cousin’s handwritten Chinese characters, there were also several lines of foreign scribbles like ghost-drawing talismans.

“The accountant said…” Third Aunt’s tone at this point was also uncertain, “this is his address abroad. If you trace it as it is…”Yu Manyi’s drawing skills might be good, but she couldn’t possibly reproduce the gibberish of those foreign letters — she couldn’t even distinguish one connected character from another. These three pages of the letter were on the verge of being scrapped, and Yu Manyi actually felt relieved — she truly couldn’t guarantee that her cousin wouldn’t feel disgusted upon reading those sentences.

But Third Aunt was far more persistent than her on this matter. She went to consult the accounting clerk again, then brought back some loose change and handed it to Yu Manyi along with the letter.

“Go to the town post office. There’ll naturally be someone to help you fill it out. This money is the postage for an overseas letter. Take it with you. I’ll arrange for a carriage to take you there tomorrow.”

Yu Manyi felt like a marionette. Not a single thing she had done today, nor what she would do tomorrow, was anything she truly wished to do. She took the letter and the money back to her room, and by candlelight read it over several times. The more she read, the more disgusted she felt. The words read like a woman on her knees, flattering and begging for pity. None of it was truly her voice — it was all what Third Aunt had said. And because she had long forgotten the mindset of a sixteen-year-old girl, her phrasing only came off as forced and artificial. Yet, the handwriting was unmistakably hers — her calligraphy. A whole year of private tutoring had gone to waste; her writing was now being used only to beg someone to come back. And tomorrow she had to personally deliver this disgraceful thing to the town’s post office!

Yu Manyi suddenly felt deeply wronged. She turned and threw herself onto the bed, her tears soaking the pillow. Hanging beside the bed were clothes just returned from the laundry. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of purple. Lifting her head, she saw again the pair of mandarin ducks. She wiped her tears, kicked over the clothes rack, stomped on the garments again and again, then tossed them under the bed, never wanting to wear them again.

The town was even farther than the rural market.

The next day, Yu Manyi got up earlier than anyone else. The last time she had risen so early was when she returned the dishes Song Qi had used to the kitchen. The carriage was harnessed before dawn. Third Aunt sent her off with a gaze that genuinely resembled a mother’s tenderness. Yu Manyi held in her arms a bag containing the letter, the envelope, and the money, and set off into the morning mist.

Perhaps this was the only good thing — she was taking a path she had never seen before, surrounded by scenery she had never witnessed. She lifted the curtain of the carriage and looked at the vast green fields in the distance. Compared to her dazing off beneath the artificial rockery, she felt the arrival of spring more vividly. Pale yellow flowers bloomed low by the roadside, and in the distance, children were flying kites.

Yu Manyi watched the kites as her thoughts drifted off with them.

The horse pulling the cart was old, halting now and then. By the time she and the driver arrived, the post office was already on lunch break, and mailing services would only resume in the afternoon. The driver was exhausted. He tied up the carriage and went off to nap in the shade nearby, leaving Yu Manyi alone in the carriage, eyes wide, lifting a corner of the curtain to carefully observe this street — one more grand, more bustling, and livelier than the largest market in the countryside.

Second Uncle had once said that all the land south of Shaoxing belonged to the Yu family. But this clearly wasn’t southern land. The Yu family’s land was for growing crops, not for doing business. Yu Manyi’s eyes darted curiously, following the pedestrians along the street — to the shops selling cosmetics, to the stores offering fine silks and satins, and finally, to a corner newsstand that still had fruit displayed outside.

What a magical place — more down-to-earth than a bookstore, yet more refined than the stalls selling comic books. Yu Manyi leaned out to observe more closely and saw the newsstand owner lounging inside, sipping tea and reading a newspaper. Around the outside stood iron racks filled with an array of newspapers and magazines.

Yu Manyi felt a sudden jolt in her heart.

The sensation was familiar. She thought for a moment and realized the last time she had felt such excitement was when she opened the cellar. She looked toward where the driver was — he had collapsed in a corner against the post office wall, a straw hat covering his face, completely asleep.Very well, then there's nothing left to hesitate about. When Yu Manyi truly wanted to do something, she never hesitated.

She lifted her skirt with her hands and jumped down from the carriage, striding in large steps toward the newsstand. Yu Manyi suddenly realized that in the midday of spring, the sunlight could be this bright, dazzling white light glinting off the stone-paved road. She ran past clanging bicycles and hawking vendors, past the tightly shut doors of the post office and the cries of the rickshaw pullers, all the way to the front of the newsstand. Bracing both hands on the iron rack, she leaned her body forward and asked in great detail—

"Boss, I want to buy a newspaper printed by students in Shanghai. The main section is serializing stories of free love between young men and women, the supplement prints unwanted stuff about freedom, democracy, and ideology, and the illustrations are just wildflowers and weeds. Boss, do you have a newspaper like that?"