Tears and blood, dust and smoke

Author: Shen Ning / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: On the day Yao Fengping was carried into the black lacquered gate of the Tian family, there were no men at home. The two young masters, both studying at Peking University, were reading engineering and law, respectively. Originally, the younger master was supposed to return the day before, but unexpectedly, the 2,500-li journey by train and boat took two days to reach home. The date and time of the wedding were determined by a blind fortune-teller, who, upon learning the birth dates and zodiac signs of both parties, calculated with his fingers. He said that the day and time could not be a moment early or late. Since it concerned marriage and children, it could not be taken lightly. Therefore, even though the groom was not at home, the bride still had to be carried over. At three in the afternoon, the Tian family's 200-member wedding procession set off. The suona horns traced shaking, large circles towards the sky, and the cracked cymbals startled birds over dozens of miles to fly away with their young. Four hundred feet clad in sturdy black cloth shoes, kicked up yellow dust from the ten-mile road, darkening the sky. The men leading the horses, carrying the sedan chairs, and bearing the gifts and luggage stumbled and chattered, stepping on each other, heading northeast towards Yao's Big Bay to fetch the bride. As the yellow dust and the deafening suona and drums approached the door, Fengping's mother repeated the words she had already said hundreds of times: "I taught you how to weave cloth, mend clothes, make tea, and cook. I also taught you to read and write. It was all so that you could serve your husband and in-laws." Fengping stood quietly to the side, dressed in a large red robe with a front opening. Her hands were clasped in her sleeves. Her hair, which her mother had spent two hours combing, was shiny and neat, arranged in a bun at the back of her head. According to local custom, unmarried girls could let their hair fall over their shoulders, but once married, they had to tie it in a bun at the back. Fengping's face was extremely pale, and even the heavy rouge did not add any festive color. Her eyes stared straight ahead. Behind her lay a large pile of dowry, boxes and baskets. Several relatives from her family stood far behind, whispering among themselves. With no groom in sight, there was no excitement to witness, and no one felt like participating. The Yao family had been officials for three hundred years during the Ming Dynasty. When the Qing court took over and established the imperial examinations, the Yao family's father failed the examinations, and their sons did not take the exams. The Yao brothers, who passed the imperial examinations during the Chongzhen era, refused to shave their heads and take the exams, shutting themselves in to write poetry instead. They never entertained anyone. By the time of the Kangxi era, a Yao family member passed the provincial examinations and still returned home to live in seclusion rather than take the national exams. It wasn't until the early years of the Qianlong era that a Yao family member went to the capital for the imperial examinations, passed, became a jinshi, and entered the Hanlin Academy. From then on, the Yao family succeeded in the imperial examinations generation after generation, serving in the court for centuries. In the old days, when a family member passed the imperial examinations, a flagpole would be erected in the ancestral hall. If the Yao family followed this custom, they would need to erect a large number of flagpoles, like a sesame field, taking up much land, so they chose not to erect any. Fengping was the eldest daughter in the family and had helped her mother with household chores since childhood. She did rough work like pounding rice, grinding wheat, sieving rice, making soy sauce, raising chickens and ducks, feeding pigs, and cleaning the house. She also did fine work like spinning thread, soaking thread, pulling cloth, weaving cloth, dyeing cloth, making shoes, cutting and sewing clothes, picking flowers, and embroidering. The brothers studied with a tutor, and the sisters, after finishing their chores, could also attend classes as listeners. As the saying goes, "raising a daughter is not about spoiling her." If a girl lacks the ability to support herself after marriage, she will only bring shame to her family. Therefore, Fengping's mother kept urging her to be diligent and capable when she went to her husband's family. From the flying dust, the figures and horses gradually appeared. Everything in front was red—sedan chairs, gift boxes, luggage, clothing, drums, and even the distant horizon was red. "Once you step into someone else's door, you become part of their family," Fengping's mother kept murmuring. "But you're not really part of their family. I know you're a stubborn one. I just worry about your temper. Remember to endure. Follow your mother-in-law's instructions, endure the bullying of your younger sisters-in-law. Endure everything. If I can teach you one thing in this life, it's 'endure.' Don't complain, don't argue. Endure. Do you hear?" Fengping stood silently, looking at the red that had come into view. Then she quietly turned, knelt before her mother, and knocked three heavy heads. Standing up, she turned and walked into the red, without a sound. Outside the sedan chair, chaos reigned. The groom had left gifts for the bride's family and tied the bride's dowry to a pole. The suona continued to play, and the drums continued to beat. Fengping sat in a completely red sedan chair, quiet, as if neither happy nor sad. According to tradition, girls were betrothed when they were one or two years old, or even in the womb, and the arrangement could not be changed. Sixteen years later, regardless of whether the man was rich or poor, disabled or dead, a chicken or a dog, she had to marry him. Now Fengping was about to set off to see what her husband looked like—tall or short, fat or thin, one-eyed or three-eyed, fierce or gentle. Thank heavens, if he had gone to university in the capital, at least he wasn't a fool. The sedan chair began to sway, and the red started to tremble, moving up and down. Fengping sat inside, swaying with the red. A faint red flickered on her pale face, appearing and disappearing, unsure if it was her own blood or the reflection of the sedan chair fabric. The villagers had practiced walking skills, and it took only two hours to cover the ten miles. The suona, drums, and distant voices boiled in the fading light. People from the nearby villages ran over, squeezed by the roadside, competing to see the grand wedding of the wealthy family. They shoved and bumped into each other, heads aching, eyes strained open, saliva dripping from the nape of the neck of the person in front. The suona players, drummers, and those carrying boxes and luggage were even more spirited, walking with vigor. Especially those carrying the sedan chair, swaying and walking in a fancy manner, making the sedan chair seem as if it were floating in the sky, earning of praise and exclamations. As they approached the Tian family's gate, a large open space could accommodate ten or more sedan chairs. No wonder, when officials returned from their posts, they always had a large entourage of dozens of people. The tall gate tower was grand and imposing, with dozens of red lanterns hanging high, swaying left and right in the evening breeze and voices, illuminating both inside and outside the gate, so that even at night, shadows could be seen swaying on the ground. Up close, the gate tower was decorated with red ribbons and garlands, covered with strings of red silk flowers. Six large red palace lanterns hung from the gate arch, with bright yellow tassels hanging down to the stone pavement. Each lantern had a huge double happiness character glowing. The thick gate doors were also pasted with two huge bright red double happiness characters, each taller than a person. Four or five people held long bamboo poles, hanging a dozen strings of firecrackers. The firecrackers exploded, filling the air with noise and smoke, rising over ten feet high. The musicians stayed outside to continue the celebration, while the sedan chair entered the gate. The two older daughters of the Tian family stood by the gate, dressed in embroidered red robes and wide green silk pants. Their small feet, bound since childhood, were planted firmly on the ground, their arms clasped in front, one hand holding melon seeds, the other picking them up and dropping them into their mouths, cracking them loudly. Melon seed shells scattered all over the ground, some even drifting onto the shoulders of neighbors. The servants all squeezed behind, eager to join the fun, even though they knew they couldn't see the bride. In fact, last year's wedding was even more grand, and they had already seen it. Besides, the younger master was not at home this year, so there was no groom riding a high-stepping horse to show off. Before the sedan chair was even lowered, the mother-in-law grew angry. She sat in the high chair in the main hall, looking at the gate in the front courtyard. She did not hear the bride crying loudly as she entered the sedan chair. How could there be such a custom? For thousands of years, the ancestors had decreed that the bride must cry all the way to her husband's house. If she carried the sedan chair for a hundred miles, she had to cry for a hundred miles, tears turning red until it was clear she understood the rules. This girl had been dead silent all the way, making it clear what she thought. The Tian family's daughter-in-law was lacking in etiquette, and it had disgraced the Tian family. The mother-in-law had already been furious since her son returned the day before but was still not home when the bride arrived. It was indecent, and she had already been full of anger. But she couldn't bring herself to scold her son, and with him not present, she couldn't scold him either. Seeing the new daughter-in-law break the ancestral rules, she couldn't help but lose her patience. Her body trembled, her face iron-gray, and without waiting for the bride to alight, she turned and left the main hall, returning to her own room, slamming the door shut with a bang. The male servants outside immediately waved their hands, driving the villagers away from the door. The black lacquered gate closed, and the two older daughters of the Tian family were freed. They dropped the melon seeds from their hands, rushing forward to pull the fine dowry from the pole. Mandarin pillowcases, fish leaping over dragon gates, lotus and curtains, and magpie perching curtains—accompanied by Fengping's ten years of youthful dreams, the warmth of her youth, and her hopes for a beautiful life—she wanted to show her husband and her children that their life would be happy. But now, all of this, her dowry, was torn apart, scattered, and taken away by the Tian family's daughters. The sedan chair bearers were scared and ran away. Left alone in the sedan chair, Fengping sat quietly, unattended. The sky darkened, the people dispersed, the lights went out, and the doors of the Tian family's daughters were all closed. Several older female servants came over, lifted the curtain, helped Fengping out, and led her to her new room. "Madam, why didn't you cry? It's the ancestral custom. You broke the rules and upset the old lady. How will you live now?" the servants whispered in Fengping's ear. Fengping listened quietly, without a word. P1-3