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Everyone knows that part of the spirit descends to the afterworld, while part of itremains with the family, but we have a special belief about the spirit of a young woman who has died before her marriage that goes contrary to this. She comes back to prey upon other unmarried girls—not to scare them but to take them to the afterworld with her so she might have company. The way Beautiful Moon’s unhappiness came to us every nightin Aunt’s otherworldly moans let Snow Flower and me know we were in danger.

Snow Flower came up with a plan. “A flower tower must be made,” she said one morning.A flower tower was exactly what was needed to appease Beautiful Moon’s spirit. If we provided her with a good flower tower, she would have a place to wander in andentertain herself. If she were happy, Snow Flower and I would be protected.

Some people—those with more money—go to a professional flower tower builder, butSnow Flower and I decided to make our own. We envisioned a tower of many levels, like a seven-tiered pagoda. We put a pair of foo dogs at the entrance. Inside, we painted poems on the walls in our secret writing. We made one level for dancing, another for floating. We made a sleeping room with stars and the moon painted on the ceiling. On another level,we made a women’s chamber, with lattice windows done in intricate paper cutouts thatprovided views in every direction. We constructed a table on which we laid out bits of our favorite threads, some ink, paper, and a brush, so Beautiful Moon might embroider or write letters in nu shu to her new ghost friends. We made servants and entertainers outof twisted colored paper and set them about the tower so that every level would providecompany, distraction, and amusements. When we weren’t working on the flower tower,we composed a lament we would sing to calm my cousin. If the flower tower was for Beautiful Moon’s pleasure for all eternity, our words would be a final farewell from theworld of the living. On the day the weather finally broke, Snow Flower and I asked andreceived permission to go to Beautiful Moon’s grave. It was not a long walk to the burialmound, far less than when Snow Flower had gone to the fields to bring back Baba and第 67 页 共 189 页

Uncle when Beautiful Moon died. We sat at the grave for a few minutes. Then Snow Flower set the flower tower on fire. We watched it burn, imagining it being transported tothe afterworld and Beautiful Moon drifting through the rooms in delight. Then I pulledout the paper on which we’d written to Beautiful Moon in our secret writing and we began to sing.

“Beautiful Moon, we hope the flower tower brings you peace. We hope you forget aboutus, but we will never forget you. We will honor you. We will clean your grave at SpringFestival. Do not let your thoughts run wild.

Live in your flower tower and be happy.”

Snow Flower and I walked home and went upstairs to the women’s chamber. Sitting sideby side, we took turns writing the lament onto the folds of our special fan. When we were done, I added to the garland at the top a crescent-shaped moon, as slender andunobtrusive as Beautiful Moon herself.

The flower tower helped protect Snow Flower and me, and it placated Beautiful Moon’s restless spirit, but it did nothing for Aunt and Uncle, who could not be consoled. All thatwas meant to be. We were at the mercy of powerful elements and could do nothing butfollow our fates. This can be explained by yin and yang: There are women and men, darkand light, sorrow and happiness. These things create balance. You take a moment ofsupreme happiness like Snow Flower and I felt at the beginning of the Catching CoolBreezes Festival, then sweep it away in the cruelest way with Beautiful Moon’s death. You take two happy people like Aunt and Uncle, then turn them in an instant into two end-ofthe-

liners with nothing to live for, who, when my father died, would have to rely on Elder Brother’s kindness to care for them and not throw them out. You take a family like mine that is not so well off, then add the pressure of too many weddings in one household. . . .All these things disrupted the balance of the universe, so the gods set things right bystriking down a kindhearted girl. There is no life without death. This is the true meaning of yin and yang.

The Flower-Sitting Chair

two years after beautiful moon died, my hair—which had already been pinned when Iwas fifteen—was combed into the dragon style befitting a young woman about to marry.My in-laws sent more cloth, cash so that I might have my own purse, and jewelry— earrings, rings, necklaces—all in silver and jade. They also gave my parents thirtybundles of glutinous rice—enough to feed family and friends who would visit in the days to come—and a side of pork, which Baba sliced and my brothers delivered to people inPuwei Village to let them know that the monthlong wedding celebration had officiallybegun. But what surprised and pleased Baba most of all—and what showed that our family’s hard work in preparing me for my special future had paid off—was the arrival ofa new water buffalo. With this single gift, my father became one of the three mostprosperous men in our village.

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Snow Flower came for the entire month of Sitting and Singing in the Upstairs Chamber.During those last four weeks as I finished my dowry, she helped me in many ways and we became even closer. We both had foolish ideas about what marriage would be, but Snow Flower and I believed nothing would ever come close to the comfort we felt in eachother’s arms—the warmth of our bodies, the softness of our skin, the delicate smells.Nothing would ever alter our love, and when we looked ahead we thought we would have only more to share.

To us, Sitting and Singing in the Upstairs Chamber was the beginning of a deeper commitment between us. After ten years together, our relationship was about to move tonew and far more profound levels. Two or three years from now, once I moved to my husband’s home permanently and Snow Flower had gone to her husband’s home inJintian, we would visit often. Surely our husbands—both men of wealth and high esteem

— would hire palanquins for this purpose.

Since I didn’t have sworn sisters to join me during these festivities, my mother, my aunt,my sister-in-law, Elder Sister—who came home, pregnant again—and a few unwed girlsfrom Puwei Village all came to celebrate my good fortune. Madame Wang joined us periodically too.

Sometimes we recited favorite stories, or one person would choose a chant that we allfollowed. Other times we sang of our own lives. My mother—who was satisfied with her fate—recounted “The Tale of the Flower Girl,” while Aunt, still in mourning, made us allweep as her words came out in a sorrowful dirge.

One afternoon, as I embroidered the belt to cinch my wedding costume, Madame Wang came to entertain us with “The Tale of Wife Wang.”

She took a stool next to Snow Flower, who was deep in thought, composing my third-day wedding book and searching for the right words to tell my in-laws about me. The two ofthem spoke very softly to each other. Every once in a while, I heard Snow Flower’s voice saying, “Yes, Auntie” and “No, Auntie.” Snow Flower had always shown a kind heart to thematchmaker. I had tried—with only moderate success—to emulate her in this.

When Madame Wang saw we were all waiting, she wiggled her bottom on the stool to getcomfortable and began the saga. “There once was a pious woman with few prospects.” She had grown quite plump in recent years, which made her slower and more deliberatein her storytelling and in her movements. “Her family married her to a butcher—thelowest possible match for a woman devoted to the Buddhist way. As devout as she was,she was a woman first and gave birth to sons and daughters. Still, Wife Wang did not eatfish or meat. She recited sutras for hours each day, especially the Diamond Sutra. When she wasn’t reciting, she begged her husband not to slaughter animals. She warned him ofthe bad karma that would come to him in the next life if he continued his profession.” The matchmaker put a hand on Snow Flower’s thigh in a comforting gesture. I would have found that old woman’s hand oppressive, but Snow Flower didn’t push it away.

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“But Husband Wang told her—and some might say rightly—that his family had beenbutchers for more generations than anyone could count,” Madame Wang continued. “ ‘ You continue to recite the Diamond Sutra,’ he said. ‘ You will be rewarded in your nextlife. I will keep slaughtering animals. I will buy land in this life and be punished in thenext.’ ” Wife Wang knew she was doomed for sleeping with her husband, but when hetested her knowledge of the Diamond Sutra and found that she could recite it withoutflaw, he gave her a room of her own so she could remain celibate for the rest of theirmarried life.

“Meanwhile,” Madame Wang went on, and once again her hand traveled to Snow Flower,where it rested lightly on the back of her neck, “the King of the Afterworld sent out spiritsto look for those of great virtue. They spied on Wife Wang. Once convinced of her purity,they enticed her to visit the afterworld to recite the Diamond Sutra. She knew what thismeant: They were asking her to die. She begged them not to make her leave her children,but the spirits refused to hear her pleas. She told her husband to take a new wife. Sheinstructed her children to be good and obey their new mother. As soon as these wordsleft her mouth, she fell to the floor, dead.

“Wife Wang experienced many trials before she was brought at last to the King of theAfterworld. Through all her tribulations he had been watching her, noting her virtue andpiety. Just like her husband, he demanded that she recite the Diamond Sutra. Althoughshe missed nine words, he was so pleased with her efforts—both during her lifetime andin the afterlife—that he rewarded her by allowing her to return to the world of the livingas a baby boy. This time she was born into the home of a learned official, but her realname was written on the bottom of her foot. “Wife Wang had led an exemplary life, butshe was only a woman,” the matchmaker reminded us. “Now, as a man, she excelled ateverything she did. She attained the highest rank as a scholar. She gained riches, honor,and prestige, but as much as she accomplished she missed her family and longed to be awoman again. At last she was presented to the emperor. She told him her story andimplored him to let her return to her husband’s home village. Just as had happened withthe King of the Afterworld, this woman’s courage and virtue moved the emperor, but hesaw something more—filial piety. He assigned her to her husband’s home village as amagistrate. She arrived wearing full scholar regalia. When everyone came out to kowtow,she stunned the gathering b taking off her manly shoes and revealing her true name. Shetold her husband—now very

yy old—that she wanted to be his wife again. Husband Wangand the children went to her tomb and opened it. The Jade Emperor stepped out andannounced that the entire Wang family could transcend this world for nirvana, whichthey did.”

I believed Madame Wang told this story to tell me about my future. My Lu husband andhis family, as esteemed and respected as they were in the county, might do things thatcould be considered offensive or even olluted. Also, it was the nature of a man bornunder the sign of the tiger to be fiery, sp

ppirited, and impulsive. My husband might lash outat society or scoff at binding traditions. (This is not as bad as being a butcher, I admit, but第 70 页 共 189 页

these traits could be dangerous nevertheless.) I, as a woman born under the sign of thehorse, could help my husband fight these bad traits. A horse woman should never beafraid to take the lead and steer her mate clear of trouble. To me, this was the true meaning of “The Tale of Wife Wang.” Maybe she could not make her husband do what shewanted him to do, but through her piety and good works she not only saved him from thecondemnation brought about by his polluted acts, she also helped her whole family reachnirvana. It is one of the few didactic tales told to us that has a happy ending, and on thatlate autumn day in the month before my marriage it made me happy.

But otherwise my feelings were mixed during Sitting and Singing. I was sad I would beleaving my family, but just as I had with my footbinding I tried to see something bigger— not that tiny slice of life I could see from our lattice window but a panorama like the ones Snow Flower and I saw when we peeked out the window of Madame Wang’s palanquin. Iwas convinced that a new and better future lay ahead of me. Perhaps it was something inmy nature; a horse would wander the world if it could. I was happy to be goingsomewhere new. Naturally, I’d like to say that Snow Flower and I followed our horse natures exactly as the horoscopes outline, but horses—and people—are not always obedient. We say one thing and do another. We feel one way; then our hearts open inanother direction. We see one thing but don’t understand that blinders hinder our vision. We plod along a well-loved path and then see a road, an alleyway, a river that temptsus. . . .

This is how I felt, and I thought that Snow Flower, my old same, would feel the same as Idid, but she was a mystery to me. Snow Flower’s wedding was a month after mine, butshe seemed neither excited nor sad. Instead she was unusually subdued, even as she sang the proper words during our chanting and worked diligently on the third-day weddingbook she was making for me. I thought perhaps she was more nervous than I was aboutthe wedding night.

“I’m not afraid of that,” she quipped, as we folded and wrapped my quilts.

“I’m not either,” I said, but I don’t think either of us spoke with much conviction. In my daughter days, when I’d still been allowed to play outside, I’d seen animals do bedbusiness. I knew I was going to do something like that, but I didn’t understand how itwould happen or what I was supposed to do. And Snow Flower, who usually knew so much more than I did, was no help. We were both waiting for one of our mothers, elder sisters, my aunt, or even the matchmaker to explain how to do this chore as they hadtaught us how to do so many others.

Since we were both uncomfortable with the topic, I tried to guide the conversation toward our plan for the next few weeks. Instead of returning home immediately after my marriage, I would go straight to Snow Flower’s house for her month of Sitting and Singing. I needed to help her with her wedding preparations as she was helping me withmine. I had been wanting to go to her house for ten years now, and in some ways I was

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more excited about that than in meeting my husband, because I had heard about Snow Flower’s home and family for so long, while I knew almost nothing about the man I was going to marry. Still, although I was filled with anticipation—at last I’d be going to Snow Flower’s house!—she seemed vague about the details.

“Someone from your in-laws’ home will bring you to me,” Snow Flower said.

“Do you think my mother-in-law will join us for your Sitting and Singing?” I asked. Thiswould please me, because she would see me with my laotong.