Chapter 29 A Life Lost

Chapter 29: A Human Life

The next morning, while Meng Wan was still half-asleep and groggy, he felt his pillow being shifted. He mumbled and turned over, the window paper was glowing white from the daylight. Chang Jinhua called to him from the kitchen, "The sun's already high in the sky, and you're still lazing around on the kang. Get up now."

"Coming, I'm coming right away." Meng Wan answered, eyes still closed, his hand groping under the pillow. Sure enough, he found a small red cloth pouch, jingling with a bunch of copper coins inside.

Glancing to the side, he spotted something fuzzy.

He cracked his eyes open a sliver—it was a brownish-gray fur cap, looked like it was sewn from two pieces of hide. The craftsmanship was good, though, with barely a visible seam. It had ear flaps on both sides, looking cute and playful. The only downside was the color was a bit dark, but Meng Wan liked it.

He closed his eyes, still in bed, his lips quivering a little. He pulled the covers over his head and burrowed under, hugging his little red pouch and fur hat.

Meng Wan liked to think of himself as a rational, tough guy. Growing up without parents, slaving away at his uncle's place, he'd built up an unbreakable inner strength long ago. He was the coldest dude in the world! It must be because turning into a xiaoge made his tear ducts go haywire that he was so prone to crying!

"Lazing around on New Year's Day, huh? Come on—" Chang Jinhua came in from the kitchen and whipped off his blanket. Meng Wan was curled up under it, pressing the hat and little pouch to his chest, crying so hard he was practically shaking, his nose and eyes bright red.

Chang Jinhua couldn't bear to look. She quickly pulled the blanket back over him and walked out, muttering, "A gē'er about to get married, and no shame at all. What's there to cry about? The pouch has your New Year's cash, and the hat is from Da Lang—he bought rabbit fur from Hunter Dong's place, and his wife sewed it. Get up now, no more lying in bed."

Meng Wan felt embarrassed too. After a moment to compose himself, he sat up in bed and put on his clothes and pants. Today was the first day of the new year, and by tradition, everyone wore new clothes. If not new, at least decent ones. Meng Wan put on the apricot-yellow cotton jacket Chang Jinhua had made for him.

While combing his hair, he remembered something and dug out a wooden box from under the cabinet. Inside were ten taels of loose silver scraps and the auspicious cloud silver hairpin Song Tingzhou had given him. He took out the pin, rubbed it a couple of times, and stuck it sideways into his hair bun.

When he went to the kitchen to wash up, Chang Jinhua saw his still slightly reddened eyes and couldn't help but sneak a laugh.

Meng Wan's face was burning. After washing up, he couldn't wait to call out, "Cousin, put down the book and come eat."

"Don't bother, Da Lang's not here."

Chang Jinhua was dishing out food from the pot. Meng Wan helped her lift the curtain and asked, "Where did he go so early in the morning?"

"The men of the Song family all go to the ancestors' graves to pay respects. He left in the middle of the night and should be back soon. Let's wait for him."

The Song family had no ancestral hall, but they did have a genealogy book. Every year, the Song men of the village gathered to go to the graves to weed and pay respects to their deceased elders and ancestors. This was a major event, never missed, led by the clan head.

Chang Jinhua made porridge from last night's leftover rice. Once the pot was free, she reheated two leftover dishes. As Meng Wan bent to set the dishes, Chang Jinhua noticed the silver hairpin in his hair.

"Is that the one Da Lang gave you when you got engaged? Not bad—much better than that broken wooden stick, right?"

Meng Wan reached up and touched the cloud design on the pin. As he looked up, he locked eyes with Song Tingzhou, who had just stepped into the yard.

Song Tingzhou froze in the yard, staring at Meng Wan, who was tilting his head, adjusting the pin. In the distance, snow-covered peaks loomed; nearby, the courtyard gate stood wide open. A gust of wind blew, and ice and snow from the jujube tree by the gate clattered down, thudding into the snowdrifts below.

Song Tingzhou wore a half-new, half-old cotton robe and crookedly stitched shoes. He slowly pressed a hand to his chest, not sure where the pounding was coming from.

"Da Lang, you're back? Why don't you come in?"

Chang Jinhua's voice snapped them both back to reality. Meng Wan looked away, took the dish from Chang Jinhua, and ducked inside.

Song Tingzhou's throat moved. He stepped quickly inside, but once inside, he hesitated. "Mom, let me wash my hands first."

Chang Jinhua looked at him, puzzled. "Wash? There's hot water in the small pot—help yourself."

Da Lang was usually quiet, so why report something so trivial today?

The dinner table was unusually quiet, as if they'd returned to the state before Meng Wan came to the Song house. Chang Jinhua felt uncomfortable. She cleared her throat and forced a conversation. "I heard your Third Uncle's family came back from the county seat for New Year's this year?"

Song Tingzhou was sipping his porridge absentmindedly, not hearing a word she was saying.

"Da Lang? Da Lang?"

Song Tingzhou snapped to, answering, "What is it, Mom?" But his eyes kept following the hairpin in Meng Wan's hair.

Chang Jinhua's lips twitched. She said, "After you two eat, put up the lucky charms and spring couplets."

Meng Wan buried his face in his bowl of porridge. "Okay."

New Year's Day was a fresh start—new clothes, new jewelry, replacing old charms with new ones. All this had to be done on the first day.

But they couldn't touch needles or thread, or sweep with a broom—it was said to sweep away good luck.

Meng Wan mixed up a bowl of flour paste with hot water and followed behind Song Tingzhou. After finishing the house door, they moved on to the main gate.

"The horizontal scroll is a bit crooked. Lift the north side a bit higher."

"Like this?"

"Yeah, about right."

"The hairpin... it looks good on you." Song Tingzhou stared at the spring couplet in his hands, smeared with paste, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Oh, thanks," Meng Wan said awkwardly, not sure why he felt so flustered.

Chang Jinhua passed by the front gate. Unable to stand the two of them dawdling over pasting couplets, she simply went out. "I'm off to visit neighbors. You two... do whatever you want."

She wore a neat, clean aoqun, its color somewhat light, likely preserved from her youth. Time was tight, so the cloth Meng Wan bought for her hadn't been made into new clothes yet, but her spirits were higher than in previous years.

After pasting the couplets, Meng Wan scurried into the house, afraid Song Tingzhou might call him back.

On the cabinet sat a plate of fried peanuts, one of dried red dates, and one of dried fried chestnuts as snacks. Meng Wan grabbed a handful of dried dates, munching while pondering, when he vaguely heard noisy crying from next door.

Today was the first day of the new year, and village children were running around in groups setting off firecrackers. He didn't notice at first, until the crying mixed with various voices, and the commotion next door grew louder. Only then did Meng Wan realize something was wrong.

After the Tian family incident, he'd learned his lesson. This time, he didn't rush out but went to the small room to call Song Tingzhou.

"Cousin, come out here for a moment."

Song Tingzhou came out. The small room was even clearer than outside, and he already knew what Meng Wan was about to ask. "Stay home and don't come out. I'll go check."

Before he could leave, Chang Jinhua rushed in breathlessly. She stopped Song Tingzhou and instructed both of them, "Neither of you go. There's been a death at the Tian house. Don't go near them during the New Year—no need to bring bad luck on yourselves."

After Chang Jinhua spoke, Meng Wan's first thought was of Zhu Ge'er. His expression was complicated. In this environment, if Zhu Ge'er couldn't save himself, no one could. They'd saved his life once before, but now—was he still doomed to this fate?

The Tian family matter couldn't be hidden. On the first day, villagers naturally went around visiting to pay New Year's calls. Even Chang Jinhua had gone out early, and others were even busier.

A crowd of villagers gathered at the Tian family gate. Before long, someone even fetched the village head. After giving her instructions, Chang Jinhua headed out herself, running into Song Sixth Aunt, who was coming to find her.

"Sister-in-law, what's happened at the Tian house?"

"Don't ask yet. Let's go to Second Aunt's place—don't get too close."

Not long after Chang Jinhua left, Tian Wang actually showed up, supporting Xiao Mei. In truth, Xiao Mei's pregnancy was only four months along, but the Tian family treated it like a golden egg. Since she'd gotten pregnant, she rarely left the house.

"Wan Ge'er, my place is a mess, and I'm afraid it might disturb the baby. Could you please look after Xiao Mei for me? She hasn't seen you in a while and wants to spend some time with you." Tian Wang spoke hurriedly, a hint of embarrassment on his face.

It was already bad luck for a pregnant woman to visit during the New Year. Tian Wang had originally planned to send Xiao Mei to his second uncle's house, but Xiao Mei only wanted to see Meng Wan. He couldn't persuade her, and his mother was too busy, so he gave in.

Since she was already here, Meng Wan couldn't very well kick Xiao Mei out. He didn't know why this girl liked hanging around him, but his feelings toward Xiao Mei were lukewarm at best. To be honest, he'd never wanted to be friends with her—just a casual companion for daily chats.

"Then come inside and sit for a while?"

"Alright."

Xiaomei seemed pretty shaken up, looking much more subdued than usual, but when she spoke, she dropped a bombshell.

"Zhuge’er’s little brother is dead."

Meng Wan said, stunned, "Who? Zhuge’er’s little brother? How the hell did he die at your place?"

Xiaomei pressed her lips together, which were white. "Before New Year’s, my mother-in-law went with Zhuge’er to her family’s place to pick up the young guy, said he was coming to stay with us."

Meng Wan could tell she was really freaked out, went to the kitchen and got her a bowl of warm water, asking in confusion, "He spent New Year’s at your place too?"

It’s normal to bring your little brother from your family’s place for a visit, but to stay through New Year’s?

Xiaomei took the water he handed her and took a sip. "He..."

She started to say something, then couldn’t go on.

"He bashed his head into the wall and died."

A perfectly healthy guy kills himself by smashing his head into a wall on New Year’s Day? How does that not sound sketchy?

"And Zhuge’er? Where is he?" Meng Wan had to ask.

His little brother dies out of nowhere at his in-laws’ place, and he’s just gonna take it? Did the Tian family save his life eight times or what?

Xiaomei lowered her head, fiddling with a chip on the bowl’s edge. "Zhuge’er... he seems pretty upset."

She muttered quietly, "I mean, he’s the one who brought him."

Meng Wan stared at her, surprised. Xiaomei was calling Zhuge’er by his first name? And she didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with it, which meant she’d gotten used to it lately.

Meng Wan thought to himself, Zhuge’er’s only in his early twenties, so his little brother couldn’t have been much older. Too bad someone so young had to die, and the Tian family probably couldn’t answer to the in-laws.

Before, when Meng Wan hung out with Xiaomei, it was mostly her doing the talking and him listening. Now that she was quieter, Meng Wan didn’t start a conversation or try to comfort her. He wasn’t the type to stick his nose in other people’s business, especially the Tian family, who he couldn’t stand.

By noon, the crowd at the Tian place had thinned out, and there was still no word on what happened. It looked like someone had gone to get Zhuge’er’s family.

When Chang Jinhua came back and saw Xiaomei, she didn’t crack a smile. She just had a stern face naturally, so it wasn’t like she was giving Xiaomei the cold shoulder, but Meng Wan could tell she was annoyed.

"Wan Geer, go mix the dough. We’re making cabbage dumplings for dinner."

Meng Wan had been sitting there awkwardly for a while, too careful to offer Xiaomei any snacks, since everyone knew how much the Tian family cared about this kid. If he tried to be nice and something happened, he couldn’t take the blame.

"Xiaomei, just sit tight. I’ll go help my aunt with the dough."

Xiaomei seemed spaced out, nodding slowly after a pause.

Chang Jinhua had thawed a piece of pork that morning, now half-frozen and easy to chop. She was mincing the meat on the cutting board.

Meng Wan usually liked to mix dough inside where it was warmer than the kitchen, but now he had to set the table on the floor, put the board on it, and mix the dough. When he was done, he covered the dough with a bowl, ready to roll out the wrappers later.

Chang Jinhua worked quickly, finishing the meat and chopping the cabbage without letting Meng Wan help.

It took less than a quarter of an hour to finish. Meng Wan waited for Chang Jinhua to wash her hands before going inside with her.

Chang Jinhua wasn’t one for small talk, and Meng Wan fidgeted, too embarrassed to even eat a snack in front of a guest.

With an outsider present, he couldn’t slip into the small room to write with Song Tingzhou. Stuck sitting there, Meng Wan could only count the window decorations to pass the time.

The window was a grid of wooden frames, the paper pasted over them still the one he and Song Tingzhou had put up during the Little New Year.

Why did he keep thinking about Song Tingzhou again!

As Meng Wan’s thoughts wandered, Xiaomei suddenly stood up with a jolt.

A second earlier, Meng Wan was puzzled; the next, he heard the wailing from next door growing louder. It was truly loud in the literal sense. There might have been grief in the cries, but to Meng Wan, it felt more deliberate.

Xiaomei had been listening to the commotion next door, which was why she reacted so quickly.

Chang Jinhua sat still and unmoving, while Xiaomei grew restless. Meng Wan wanted to eavesdrop but feared Chang Jinhua wouldn’t allow it, so he made an excuse, "Aunt, I’m going to the outhouse."

Chang Jinhua seemed to see through his little scheme and shot him a glare. "Go on, but come back quickly."

Once outside, the crying from next door was even louder, mixed with men’s shouting. This time, no one was gathering to watch.

Right, the spectacle.

When death doesn’t happen to your own family, outsiders can never truly empathize.

All one can do is sigh and say, "What a pity."

Or dismiss it with a contemptuous, "Serves them right."

Meng Wan stood on a stone in the yard, careful not to show too much of his head. He could vaguely see two groups of people in the yard, locked in a heated confrontation. The ground between them was covered in snow, trampled hard and dirty by many feet.

Zhuge’er’s little brother lay there, a straw mat covering his body, revealing only a dull yellow crown of hair above and his bare, frostbitten, purplish feet below.

Zhuge’er knelt beside him, head bowed and motionless, his expression unreadable.

"Wan Geer." Song Tingzhou opened the small room’s window and called out to Meng Wan.

Meng Wan stepped down from the stone and went over to ask, "What’s up?"

Song Tingzhou knelt on the kang, looking down at him. "Don’t watch anymore. It’s cold outside."

Meng Wan looked up into his eyes and suddenly asked, "You’ve known all along, haven’t you?"

Song Tingzhou lowered his gaze. "Yes, I knew. But we can’t interfere in other people’s family matters."

Meng Wan touched his lips with his fingertips, his thoughts wandering wildly. Then he asked abruptly, "So where does the law of Yu draw the line? What counts as a family matter? And what falls within the scope of the law?"

Song Tingzhou was momentarily stumped. "This... I haven’t studied legal texts yet."

Meng Wan murmured, "Is that so?" He felt that, regardless of the era, the law was paramount and worth learning.

Meng Wan gripped the window frame with both hands and asked again, "Then why do you study?"

He said this with utmost seriousness. Song Tingzhou was taken aback, not expecting the question, and answered instinctively, "To bring glory to the family."

It was said that even the threshold of a scholar’s gate could be built an inch higher than that of ordinary folk—such was the honor.

Meng Wan let out a laugh at his honest answer. "Right, to glorify your ancestors and return home in silk robes."

"But you know what? I think the most important thing about studying is to enlighten the mind."

Meng Wan sighed. "Right now, we have little power and little say. We can’t meddle in others’ family affairs."

The laws of Yu may not be as well-developed as modern laws, but Meng Wan does not believe that killing someone or driving someone to their death goes unpunished.

"But the law should be the people's strongest weapon—why do they abandon it?"

"Because they are ignorant."

The villagers would rather let the gray-haired, half-dead old clan leaders, village heads, and ancestral halls judge than trust the laws studied by generations of the nation's scholars.

Why?

Because of ignorance.

That day, Meng Wan's words struck Song Tingzhou with a profound impact.

His parents had taught him benevolence, righteousness, filial piety, and etiquette; his private school teacher had taught him the way of a gentleman.

Many had told him that studying could lead to success, elevate him above others, and allow him to repay his parents.

Glory and splendor, riding home in triumph!

But Meng Wan said: Studying—is it to gain wisdom?