Chapter 3

"I hit my head," Wang Chan said, turning slightly so Zhu Fenglan could see the back of it, then facing forward again to study the woman in front of her.

Her empty memory seemed to spill out again and again, and in the end there was not even the clatter of anything left behind.

"Mm," she nodded with certainty. "I can't even remember my aunt by marriage."

Beauty lies in the bones, not the skin. The truly lovely are beautiful even in the shape of the head, round and full.

At the moment, Zhu Fenglan had no mind to admire it.

She was struck with alarm. Leaning in carefully, she brushed the hair aside and looked again at the little girl's wound.

Sure enough, beneath the thick black hair there was a gash, sticky with blood. It had dried among the strands into dark brown crusts. Once the hair was parted, the torn flesh looked blunt and ragged, as though struck by something heavy. It was a ghastly sight.

"Oh my!" The villagers who had come along all gasped in shock, drawing in several sharp breaths.

When they looked back at the coffin, though, they could somewhat understand the situation.

"With an injury this severe, maybe she really had passed out at the time, or her breathing was so faint they thought the little girl was gone..."

"Exactly. I saw it just now. Those people were in quite a rush. Maybe when they were carrying the coffin, the girl came around inside and made a sound. Those fools thought she'd risen from the dead, dropped the coffin, and ran... Tsk. If we'd been a little slower, they'd have already gotten her on the boat and fled!"

Someone rejoiced on Wang Chan's behalf. "Haha, what a fright that was. Still, that counts as a surprise. Come on, let's find someone to send a message to Brother Boyuan in the county city. When he hears his daughter survived such a disaster, the heartbroken scholar will surely be overjoyed."

As for a scholar, if his hand were loose enough, he could spare a little benefit for the mud-slogging folk like them. The favor of saving his daughter could never truly be repaid; letting him take one of their clever little grandchildren as a pupil would do.

"Tch! Heartbroken, my foot. He'll be thrilled, more like." Someone snorted. Arms folded, they laughed at the one who had spoken first for being too inexperienced, seeing matters like a big-headed fish in a shallow creek, full of foolish notions.

"They rushed through the burial so fast. Who knows if there's something fishy going on."

"Would that be possible? At any rate, he's still a scholar—"

"What's impossible about it!" The speaker was cut off again. Perhaps remembering something, the old woman's voice sharpened with a hint of darkness. "As the saying goes, most righteous men are butchers of dogs, and most faithless men are scholars. Didn't the little girl say her father was going to marry?"

If he's marrying, then the treasure in front turns to grass behind. Isn't that just trampling on people as they please?

The others: ...

The child had injured her brain and could not tell whether her father was marrying or she was being married; but could this old woman be any clearer?

"Ignore her," one of the aunts in the crowd, who knew the story, tugged at someone and said, "You don't know Aunt Cui? Because of what happened to Ping'er, the thing she hates most in this life is scholars. Even if it's a scholar's dog passing by, she can stop and argue with it for a good long while!"

"Haha, that's right. I saw it a few days ago too. She really did end up quarreling with a dog."

The woman called Aunt Cui planted her hands on her hips, eyes glaring, ready to keep arguing, when Zhu Fenglan was already frantic with worry.

The little girl herself could not see it, but right now her face was drained of all color, yet she still solemnly said she had gone stupid. She was pitiful and adorable beyond words.

"No, no, no. Such a big wound must be seen by someone right away." Zhu Fenglan dropped the wash stick, swiftly hoisted Wang Chan onto her back, and turned to shout at the crowd.

"Make way, everyone, make way."

"Yes, yes, she needs medicine right away. Even some herb ash would do." Soon the crowd dispersed a little.

"What herb ash? With a wound this big, she needs to go to Uncle Fengnian and have proper herbs applied."

Wang Chan was stunned. In an instant, her line of sight had risen.

Zhu Fenglan strode forward, quickly leaving the villagers' babble behind her.

...

"Lie still, girl." On the road, Zhu Fenglan found a moment to pat Wang Chan lightly. "Don't fall off."

Though she said this, her steps did not slow, and now and then one could hear her panting.

"Don't be afraid. Auntie will take you home. We'll find a doctor and get you a couple of doses of medicine, and you'll be fine. Even if you still can't remember anything..." She clenched her teeth. "What of it? As long as you can talk and move, you're not stupid!"

If her father truly meant to marry, and to cast off the burden by ruining his daughter like this—then better not remember that father at all!

"Mm, I'll go home with Auntie." Wang Chan pressed her face against Zhu Fenglan's back and rubbed lightly.

There was a dry, reassuring scent at the tip of her nose, like soapnut, and also like the breath of summer among the treetops, a fragrance of grass and wood. It covered the fishy smell that had clung to her nose before. Beneath the bouncy motion of her steps, Wang Chan could not help closing her eyes.

...

Wang Chan had a beautiful dream.

In the dream there was a tall tree, and the summer sun blazed brilliantly overhead. Light fell through the branches, casting multicolored shadows on the ground.

She seemed to have become a cicada, clinging to a high branch. When the wind came, she swayed with the branch.

The tree, too, seemed to have become her companion. Even when the wind stopped, it still stirred that branch of leaves.

Again and again, as though if it were shaken a little higher, the cicada wings trembling lightly would be able to touch the sun hanging at the edge of the sky.

"Cicada girl, cicada girl—"

A lowered voice sounded by her ear, and Wang Chan's consciousness sank downward. When she opened her eyes, she saw Zhu Fenglan's somewhat anxious face.

"Auntie?" Wang Chan tried to sit up.

"Don't rush, don't rush. Auntie is here—careful not to pull at the wound." Zhu Fenglan helped her sit up and pulled a soft pillow over, kindly propping it behind Wang Chan's waist.

"You slept for so long that I was getting worried. Are you hungry? Drink some water first and moisten your throat. The congee is warming on the stove; I'll go get it in a bit."

As she spoke, Zhu Fenglan rose and poured a cup of warm water.

When the rough clay cup was placed in Wang Chan's hands, it was still faintly warm, and steam rose from the rim.

Wang Chan looked around, her eyes widening slightly.

She had only slept for a little while, yet night had already fallen.

A candle burned on the table, its tiny flame lighting one corner of the room. By the wooden window stood a desk, with two armchairs beside it. The headrest, shaped like a lotus leaf, had been polished smooth and coated with only a thin layer of brown lacquer, through which the grain of the wood still faintly showed.

Layer upon layer, like a scar.

"Auntie, where is this?"

Zhu Fenglan came in carrying the congee. Seeing the little girl curiously surveying the room, she set the bowl down on the table. The spoon tapped against the bowl with a clear, crisp sound.

She glanced around as well, then turned back with a smile.

"This? This is your great-uncle's house."

Zhu Congyun had only Zhu Fenglan as his daughter. When he was young, that had been a regret; later, he had come to terms with it, accepting that perhaps he was not fated to have any other children. He had also ignored what others said about adopting a boy from the clan as his son.

What use was a child from someone else's house, however much he took the family name? It was only a shiny shell, like a donkey's droppings with a glossy surface. Pretty to look at, but impossible to truly raise as one's own; it would never be close to the heart.

As for the surname, back then Zhu Congyun had driven away the people who came to ask him to take in a child, declaring that there were plenty of people surnamed Zhu in the world and he did not need one more. He was only a poor stone grinder, with nothing special to pass down—he was not the emperor in the palace, nor some prince with a fief.

However, with only one daughter, he could not bear for himself and his wife to grow old as lonely old souls. So when it came time to arrange her marriage, he did not send Zhu Fenglan far away; she married the second son of the Xie family, Xie Shihua.

The Zhu and Xie families were not far apart, both in Rouge Town.

Thus they could at least look out for one another.

From a young age, Zhu Fenglan knew there was only her in the family, and that she had to hold herself up. Her temperament was brisk and fierce, and she rarely suffered losses.

"Don't be fooled by how small our Rouge Town is, or by how far it is from the county city, with Rouge Mountain lying between. In front of it is the Yuan River, so it looks almost like a little island all by itself. But we have everything here. The doctor who will treat you is Doctor Wang Fengnian. His clinic is called Heart in One Hall, and it's even a little closer to my father's house. Your head is injured, and the doctor said you shouldn't move about too much for a while. You need to rest quietly."

"Since this place is close to the clinic, it'll be easier to change your bandages, so I decided to bring you here."

Zhu Fenglan smiled as she watched the little girl drink her porridge and explained.

Tsk, that face, those eyes—

How could someone be so good at being born? She had grown only the finest features!

Zhu Fenglan looked at Wang Chan, her heart full of fondness. The more she looked, the more she liked this niece of hers.

Wang Chan asked, "Then this room—"

"I used to live in it." Zhu Fenglan smiled until her eyes narrowed. "See, these quilts and pillows all used to be mine. Don't dislike them, girl."

"How could I?" Wang Chan shook her head in a hurry.

She glanced at Zhu Fenglan, then paused with the spoon in hand and lowered her head, smiling with a touch of shyness. "I like Auntie. The smell here is the same as yours. It makes me feel safe to rest on it."

To prove she was not merely flattering her, Wang Chan thought for a moment, then said earnestly, "I slept wonderfully just now."

"Foolish girl." Zhu Fenglan did not know whether to laugh or pity her. That was not sleep; she had plainly fainted from the severity of the injury.

"Eat slowly. No rush. I'll go see your great-uncle. Leave everything on the table when you're done. The doctor said you need to rest quietly so the wound will heal faster."

Only after Wang Chan nodded did Zhu Fenglan leave the room.

With a creak, the wooden door softly closed.

Wang Chan heard voices outside. The shadows of people lengthened across the paper window: one was Zhu Fenglan, and the other was a somewhat older voice, yet still deep and strong.

That must be her great-uncle.

Wang Chan ate her thin rice porridge and listened with her ear turned toward the people outside.

At the door, Zhu Congyun held a lantern. The moment he saw Zhu Fenglan come out, he hurriedly asked, "How is she?"

"She’s better. She looks able to eat, nothing like what Doctor Fengnian said about being unable to eat or throwing up. I was afraid you'd worry, so I let the girl eat first and came out to tell you."

"Good, good." Zhu Congyun relaxed a little, and under the yellow light of the lantern, the wrinkles on his face eased somewhat.

"So worried, and you won't go in to see her?"

"That won't do. Your mother just calculated the dates. Boyuan passed the scholar’s examination in the year after the girl was born. She was born at the end of the year, so after the new year she'll be two. Count it by nominal age and she's already eleven—a proper young lady. It's late, and the night is so dark. What would it sound like if an old man like me went into a girl's room? No, no, that wouldn't be proper."

Zhu Congyun waved his hand. "No, no, that won't do. Not proper at all."

Zhu Fenglan: ...

She rolled her eyes skyward. "Old pedant!"

"By the way, did those servants from the Wu family say anything? This matter with Cicada Girl—what exactly happened?" Zhu Fenglan pressed.

Zhu Congyun fell silent for a moment. Only after a long while did he let out a deep sigh.

"There's an old saying for it: when a child has no mother, the story is a long one."