Chapter 7

After gorging themselves on a hearty meal of roasted pork at Daxiangguo Temple, the three members of Zheng’s family returned home cheerily.

Yun Yanhui had gotten more solicitous about religion; he’d do anything for that juicy, roasted pork!

Before he left, Yun Yanhui was given as a present a copy of the scriptures.

Yun Yanhui passed them to Zheng Ping so she could store them away, informing her that he was studying Chinese characters. When he returned back home, he used them as models of calligraphy for practice.

He was understandably jolly, though even if Yun Yanhui made it crystal clear he was not interested in becoming a monk, he’d still be influenced by the teachings. In fact, becoming a monk was onerous ━ you’d have to get through the examination, which obviously involved memorizing the scriptures.

Yun Yanhui blew a kiss and uttered joyfully, “Master1, I’ll see you next time (to eat more meat)!2”

On the way back, Shuangyi inquired doubtfully, “what does this mean, Brother Yan?” She mimicked Yun Yanhui’s dramatic throw of his kiss with a curious expression.

Yun Yanhui jutted out his lips and stuck them onto his palm, before making a ‘mwah’ sound as if smooching; he carefully held the nonexistent kiss inside his palm, then tossed it noisily in Zheng Ping’s direction.

“This is an air kiss.”

Zheng Ping burst into hearty laughter.

It was, undeniably, an air kiss, yet from his show-how, it was nothing more but onomatopoeia. 

Shuangyi understood at once; she chortled and blew a kiss as well, “Brother Yan is very intelligent. Last time we heard someone talk in the Daxiangguo Temple, didn’t you reply with something along the lines of ‘fighting a cattle in the air’3? This is also something related to air!”

━The word “talk” here referred not to your ordinary chit-chat, but to modern-day storytelling. In this case, the individual was indeed “talking”, using a script for storytelling.

Yun Yanhui rejoiced and nodded.

Zheng Ping only felt that her son had become much more spirited and brighter. Although, initially, Yun Yanhui seemed to be somber after getting injured, he was now much more understanding after having been flustered by the past event. After moving to Bianliang, bit by bit he got more blithe. He still resembled his old self and even his father, causing Zheng Ping to never doubt his identity.

Witnessing her son being as happy as a clam in his brother and sister’s presence in particular brought warmth in Zheng Ping’s heart. Being a widow and raising the children by herself, this was her best consolation.

Zheng Ping arrived home with her son and adopted daughter in a rather carefree manner. When night brought darkness along and enveloped the surroundings in pure blackness, she approached the gate of her yard and saw Third Sister Hu carrying Xiaobao on the neighboring porch.

“Third Sister, we are back.”

Third Sister Hu faced Zheng Ping anxiously. “You’re here. Someone came to see you this afternoon to inform you of Yun Dalang4’s whereabouts.”

Zheng Ping was utterly stupefied as she listened with rapture. “Really? Where’s this person?”

“He lingered for some time around, before telling me he had other business to attend to. He went away and left me an address for you to meet him tomorrow,” said Third Sister Hu.

“I’ll set off now.” Zheng Ping was restless and felt she could not delay this matter until the next day. She handed Yun Yanhui and Shuangyi over to Third Sister Hu. Then, she immediately asked for the address and left in a hurry.

Third Sister Hu appeared to be having qualms, yet it was unnoticed by Zheng Ping, who was taken aback and discomposed.

***

Once Zheng Ping’s figure had vanished into the night, Third Sister Hu’s mother-in-law came outside, too, along with Liu Ye, requesting for her to take Shuangyi and have dinner.

Third Sister Hu’s mother-in-law, who was still holding onto some sesame buns5, approached Yun Yanhui and passed him some of them to eat.

Third Sister Hu voiced her worries to her mother-in-law, “what should I do? Though the man said this matter is of utmost importance and insisted he told Lady6 Zheng himself, listening to his tone, I’m terrified of finding out Yun Da’s state of health. Yan’er is still young, what if Lady Zheng won’t be able to overcome the sorrow…”

Her mother-in-law exhaled softly, “we have no choice but to resign ourselves to fate. It’s a pity, when Lady Zheng is such a wonderful woman…”

Yun Yanhui quietly furrowed his brows as he listened attentively.

Suddenly receiving news about Father Yun’s whereabouts, when he’d been missing for so long, if anything unfortunate were to have happened to him, Zheng Ping would, unquestionably, be greatly affected. Only a glimpse at her could confirm she was very much head over heels for her husband. When there were no new clues to his case, she’d comfort herself. However, if something tragic occurred…

He knew he should have followed her, perhaps Zheng Ping seeing her son would lessen the pain.

***

Zheng Ping had failed to turn up from dawn until the moon reached the tip of the trees7, but fortunately, there was no curfew this time. 

After some brief discussion, Third Sister Hu and her husband went out together to look for Zheng Ping.

Shuangyi continued to play with Liu Ye, blissfully oblivious to the situation.

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Yun Yanhui sat with Xiaobao, who had long fallen into a deep slumber, anxiety clawing at his insides painfully. Though Third Sister Hu’s mother-in-law urged for him to rest, he couldn’t bring himself to.

Although he had known her for less than three months, because of her deep connection with his body and Zheng Ping’s motherly care and affection, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety.

After half an hour passed by in an agonizing manner, Shuangyi dozed off with Liu Ye. The Hu family returned with Zheng Ping back home.

Zheng Ping’s eyes were swollen, resembling a pair of mellow peaches. She was carefully supported by Third Sister Hu to sit on the bed. Yun Da was dead. She was now a widow.

“Don’t cry,” Third Sister Hu spoke in hushed tones. “Look, Yan’er is still awake. Don’t alarm him.”

Zheng Ping subconsciously glanced at him and noticed that Yan’er, who should have gone to sleep at this point, was still very much wide awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she stared at him with large eyes. Through the tears adorning her lashes, she could almost juxtapose his face with her husband’s, the semblance bringing a new wave of sadness, yet she managed to hold back her tears.

“Why aren’t you sleeping, Yan’er?”

“I waited for my mother,” he replied foolishly.

Zheng Ping gathered the boy in her arms and embraced him tightly. She weeped, saying, “mother is back. Go to sleep, go to sleep.”

Yun Yanhui clasped his arms around her neck and hugged her back, wishing to lend some of his strength.

At last, Yun Yanhui got some shut-eye, awaking a bit late into the morning of the next day.

As he thought of Zheng Ping, his drowsy mind immediately became alert and he ran out of the bed with no shoes on. What his sight fell upon relaxed his heart straight away: the image of Zheng Ping and Third Sister Hu sewing quietly.

Yun Yanhui calmed himself and came back to put on his shoes.

He might as well be the cleanest child on the street, when the other boys ran around without wearing shoes.

However, the children of the Northern Song were at least a little better off inside Bianliang. Yun Yanhui had seen far worse in the modern times. Back then, he had to take part in all sorts of reportages, which included doing broadcasts of current affairs. His colleagues aimed to help the poor; he’d been to many impoverished families.

The poverty-stricken people living in mountainous regions had nothing but the bare walls in their houses8, and raised poultry to feed the mouths of their family members. They ran about indoors and outdoors, and could not bathe themselves too often. Their bedrooms stank to high heaven of manure, and the children scampered around barefoot.

In retrospect, Yun Yanhui couldn’t hold back a sigh. He was shaken by the fact that he’s not at his worst… Hygiene during ancient times was worse for those even poorer than him.

After contemplating over this matter, he was eternally grateful for having Zheng Ping tending him.

Watching Zheng Ping sewing with no break was dispiriting. Third Sister Hu was the only one actively chatting and searching for topics of conversation. Nevertheless, accompanying Zheng Ping to talk and alleviate her pain was an incredibly kind gesture.

Yun Yanhui pondered for a bit, then strode to Zheng Ping, circled his arms around her neck, pecked her cheek and greeted her. It was a pure and honest kiss. His mother was also his sister.

Sure enough, Zheng Ping’s loving son brought a chuckle from between her lips, a tad of her forlornness dissipating.

Yun Yanhui had never met Yun Da. He wondered what kind of man he was. He was grieving for him, but his main concern was Zheng Ping and he wholeheartedly hoped she’d buoy up soon. 

The author has something to say: at the end of the last chapter, ‘Xianglan’ is short for Daxiangguo Temple, ‘lan’ is the Sanskrit Senjialanmo, which means Buddhist temple.9

1Master or 法师 is a title of respect for a Buddhist or Taoist priest

2It’s implied, so he’s not really saying he wants more of that roasted pork lol

3This has multiple meanings as far as I’m aware (and as far as Chinese google is aware as well), though I’m not going to explain the one related to martial arts because I don’t think the context fits; basically, it’s when people resolve their problems fairly easily or to the point that they don’t even have to lift a finger themselves. Here is the explanation of the martial arts move (use a translator, because it’s in Chinese!)

4lang 郎 is an ancient term/suffix used for an intimate male friend or one’s husband

5In case anyone is curious, these are hu bing (胡饼) = baked cake of wheat flour usually topped with sesame

6This is 娘子 or niangzi, which is the archaic title for a ‘wife’, also means ‘lady’/‘woman’

7Means from dusk ‘till 7-8 PM; I usually don’t leave in Chinese expressions translated literally, but this one was pretty interesting

8No furniture (家徒四壁)

9Absolutely confused, perplexed, baffled by what the author wrote, because Chinese google does not exactly tell me what a Senjialanmo is (森迦蓝摩), but google did tell me about Vihara and I’m sure it’s exactly what the author was talking about. Also feeling really cool right now because I already explained the term in the last chapter’s footnotes 

*Note: There was a curfew during the Song Dynasty (and its predecessor, the Tang dynasty), where city and town authorities beat the “gate-closing drum” at nightfall to signal the start of the curfew, and at around 4 AM, the “gate-opening drum” would be struck. Violating the night curfew was a felony. The curfew was abolished in 1063.

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