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Eventually, my family made the choice I wished for. The next question was how I shouldrespond to this Snow Flower. Mama helped me add extra embroidery to a pair of shoes Ihad been working on to send as my first gift, but she could not begin to advise me on my written response.

Usually the return message was sent on a new fan, which would then become part ofwhat might be considered the “wedding” gifts exchange. I had something different inmind, which broke completely with tradition. When I looked at Snow Flower’sinterwoven garland at the top of the fan, I thought of the old saying, “Hyacinth bean and papayas, long vines, deep roots. Palm trees inside the garden walls, with deep roots, stand a thousand years.” To me this summed up what I wanted our relationship to be: deep,entwined, forever. I wanted this one fan to be the symbol of our relationship.

I was only seven and a half years old, but I envisioned what this fan with all its secretmessages would become.

Once I was convinced that my response would be on Snow Flower’s fan, I asked Aunt tohelp me compose the right nu shu reply. For days we discussed the possibilities. If I was to be radical with my return gift, I should be as conventional as possible with my secretmessage. Aunt wrote out the words we agreed upon, and I practiced them until my calligraphy was passable. When I was satisfied, I ground ink on the inkstone, mixing itwith water until I achieved a deep black. I took brush in hand, holding it upright between my thumb, index finger, and middle finger, and dipped it in the ink. I began by painting a tiny snow flower amid the garland of leaves at the top of the fan. For my message, I chose the fold next to Snow Flower’s beautiful calligraphy. I started with a traditional opening and then proceeded with the accepted phrases for such an occasion: I write to you. Please listen to me. Though I am poor and improper, though I am not worthy of your family’shigh gate, I write today to say it was fated that we join. Your words fill my heart. We are a pair of mandarin ducks. We are a bridge over the river. People everywhere will envy our good match. Yes, my heart is true to go with you.

Naturally I did not mean all these sentiments. How could we conceive of deep love,friendship, and everlasting commitment when we were only seven? We had not even met,and even if we had, we didn’t understand those feelings one bit. They were just words Iwrote, hoping that one day they would come true.

I set the fan and the pair of bound-foot shoes I had made on a piece of cloth. With nothingnow to occupy my hands, my mind worried about many things. Was I too low for Snow Flower’s family? Would they look at my calligraphy and realize just how inferior I was?Would they think my break with tradition showed bad manners? Would they stop thematch?

These troubling thoughts—fox spirits in the mind, my mother called them—haunted me,yet all I could do was wait, keep working in the women’s chamber, and rest my feet so the

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bones healed properly.

When Madame Wang first saw what I had done to the fan, she pursed her lips indisapproval. Then, after a long moment, she nodded knowingly.

“This is truly a perfect match. These two girls are not just sames in the eight characters,they are alike in their horse spirits as well. This will be . . . interesting.” She said this lastword almost as a question, which in turn made me wonder about Snow Flower. “The nextstep is to complete the official arrangements. I suggest that I escort the two girls to theTemple of Gupo fair in Shexia to write their contract. Mother, I will take care oftransportation for both girls. Little walking will be required.” With that, Madame Wangtook the four ends of the cloth, folded them over the fan and shoes, and took them awaywith her to give to my future laotong.

Snow Flower

over the next few days, it was hard for me to sit still and let my feet heal as I wassupposed to when all I could think about was that I would soon meet Snow Flower. EvenMama and Aunt got caught up in the anticipation, making suggestions about what SnowFlower and I should write in our contract even though neither of them had ever seen one.When Madame Wang’s palanquin arrived at our threshold, I was clean and dressed incountry-simple clothes. Mama carried me downstairs and outside. Ten years later when Igot married I would make a similar journey to a palanquin. On that occasion I was fearfulof the new life that lay before me and sad to be leaving all I had known behind, but forthis meeting I was giddy with nervous excitement. Would Snow Flower like me?

Madame Wang held the door to the palanquin open, Mama set me down, and I steppedinto the small space. Snow Flower was far prettier than I had imagined. Her eyes wereperfect almonds. Her skin was pale, showing that she had not spent as much timeoutdoors as I had during my milk years. A red curtain hung down next to her, and a rosy-hued light glinted in her black hair. She wore a sky-blue silk tunic embroidered with acloud pattern. Peeking out from beneath her trousers were the shoes I had made her. Shedid not speak. Perhaps she was as nervous as I was. She smiled and I smiled back.

The palanquin had just one seat, so the three of us had to squeeze together. To keep thepalanquin balanced, Madame Wang sat in the middle. The bearers picked us u , and soonthey were trotting over the bridge that led out of Puwei. I had never been in a p

ppalanquinbefore. We had four bearers, who tried to run in a manner that would minimize theswaying, but— with the curtains drawn, the heat of the day, my own anxieties, and thestrange rhythmic movement—my stomach felt sick. I had never been away from homeeither, so even if I could have looked out the window I would not have known where Iwas or how far I still had to travel. I had heard about the Temple of Gupo fair. Whohadn’t? Women went there each year on the tenth day of the fifth month to pray for thebirth of sons. It was said that thousands of people went to this fair. That idea was beyondmy comprehension. When I began to hear other noises coming through the curtain—bellsjingling on horse-drawn carts, the shouted voices of our bearers telling people, “Move out

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of the way,” and the calls of street vendors beckoning customers to buy their joss sticks,candles, and other offerings that could be placed at the temple—I knew we had reachedour destination. The palanquin came to a stop and the bearers set us down with a hardthump. Madame Wang leaned over me, pushed open the door, told us to stay put, and gotout. I closed my eyes, grateful not to be moving and concentrating on calming mystomach, when a voice spoke my thoughts. “I am so happy we’re still again. I felt like I wasgoing to be sick. What would you have thought of me then?”

I opened my eyes and looked at Snow Flower. Her pale skin had turned as green as Iimagined mine to be, but her eyes were filled with frank inquiry. She pulled her shouldersup under her ears conspiratorially, smiled in a way that I would soon learn meant thatwhatever she had in mind was goi to get us in trouble, patted the cushion next to her,and said, “Let’s see what’s happening

ngng outside.”

Key to the matching of our eight characters was that we had both been born in the year ofthe horse. This meant that we both should long for adventure. She looked at me again,weighing the depths of my bravery, which, I must admit, were quite shallow. I took a deepbreath and scooted to her side of the palanquin; she pulled back the curtain. Now I wasable to put faces to the voices I’d heard, but beyond that my eyes filled with amazingimages. Yao-nationality people had set up fabric stands decorated with billowing piecesof cloth, all much more colorful than anything Mama or Aunt had ever made. A troupe ofmusicians in flamboyant costumes passed by, on their way to an opera performance. Aman walked

along with a pig on a leash. It had never occurred to me that someone would bring his pigto a fair to sell. Every few seconds another palanquin veered around us, each, weassumed, holding a woman who had come to make an offering to Gupo. Many otherwomen walked on the street— sworn sisters who’d married out to new villages and hadreunited on this special day—dressed in their best skirts and wearing elaboratelyembroidered headdresses. Together they swayed down the street on their golden lilies.There were so many beautiful sights to absorb, all of which were heightened by anincredibly sweet smell that wafted into the palanquin, enticing my nose and calming mystomach.

“Have you been here before?” Snow Flower asked. When I shook my head no, she rattledon. “I’ve come with my mother several times. We always have fun. We visit the temple. Doyou think we’ll do that today?

Probably not. That would mean too much walking, but I hope we can go to the taro stand.Mama always takes me there. Do you smell it? Old Man Zuo—he owns the stand—makesthe best treat in the county.” She had been here many times? “Here’s what he does: Hefries cubes of taro until they are soft on the inside but firm and crisp on the outside. Thenhe melts sugar in a big wok over a large fire. Have you had sugar, Lily? It is the best thingin the world. He melts it until it turns brown, then he throws the fried taro into the sugar

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and swirls it around until it is coated. He drops this on a plate and places it on your table,along with a bowl of cold water. You can’t believe how hot the taro is with that meltedsugar. It would burn a hole in your mouth if you tried to eat it like that, so you pick up a piece with your chopsticks and dip it in the water. Crack, crack, crack! That’s the sound itmakes as the sugar goes hard. When you bite into it, you get the crunch of the sugar shell,the crispiness of the fried taro, and then the final soft center. Auntie just has to take us,don’t you agree?”

“Auntie?”

“You talk! I thought maybe all you could do was write beautiful words.”

“Maybe I don’t talk as much as you,” I responded quietly, my feelings hurt. She was thegreat-granddaughter of an imperial scholar and far more knowledgeable than thedaughter of a common farmer.

She picked up my hand. Hers was dry and hot, her chi burning high. “Don’t worry. I don’tcare if you’re quiet. My talking always gets me in trouble because I often don’t thinkbefore I speak, while you will be an ideal wife, always choosing your words with greatcare.”

You see? Right there on that first day we understood each other, but did that stop us from making mistakes in the future? [ 4 9 ] Madame Wang opened the door to the palanquin.“Come along, girls. Everything is arranged. Ten steps will get you to your destination. More than that, and I would break my promise to your mothers.”

We stood not far from a paper goods stand decorated with red streamers, good luckcouplets, red and gold double-happiness symbols, and painted images of the goddess Gupo. A table in front was piled with the most colorful items for sale. Aisles on either end allowed patrons to enter the stand, which was protected from the hubbub of the street bythree long tables on the sides. In the middle of the stand, a small table was set with ink,brushes, and two straight-back chairs. Madame Wang told us to select a piece of paper for our contract. Like any child I had made small choices, like which piece of vegetable to pickfrom the main bowl after Baba, Uncle, Elder Brother, and every other older member ofour household had already dipped their chopsticks into the dish. Now I was overwhelmedby the selection, my hands wanting to touch all the merchandise, while Snow Flower, atjust seven and a half, was discriminating, showing her better learning.

Madame Wang said, “Remember, girls, I will pay for everything today. This is only one decision. You have others to make, so don’t dawdle.” “Of course, Auntie,” Snow Flower responded for both of us. Then she asked me, “Which do you like?”

I pointed to a large sheet of paper that by its very size seemed the most appropriate for the importance of the occasion. Snow Flower ran her forefinger over the gold border. “The quality of the gold is poor,” she

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said; then she held the sheet up toward the sky. “The paper is as thin and transparent asan insect wing. See how the sun shines through it?” She set it down on the table andstared into my eyes in that earnest wa of hers. “We need something that will show for alltime the precious nature and durability

yy of our relationship.”

I could barely comprehend her words. She spoke a slightly different dialect than I wasfamiliar with in Puwei, but this was not the only reason for my incomprehension. I wascoarse and stupid; she was refined, and already her house learning had extended beyondwhat my mother and even my aunt knew.

She pulled me deeper into the stand and whispered, “They always keep the better thingsback here.” In her regular voice, she said, “Old same, how do you find this one?”

This was the first time that anyone had ever asked me to look—really look—atsomething, and I did. Even to my uneducated eye, I could see the difference between whatI had chosen on the street side of the stand and this. It was smaller in size and less gaudyin its decoration. “Test it,” Snow Flower said.

I picked it up—it felt substantial in my hands—and held it up to the sunlight just as SnowFlower had done. The paper was so thick that the sun came through only as a dull redglow.

In wordless agreement we handed the paper to the merchant. Madame Wang paid for itand for us to write our contract at the center table in the stand. Snow Flower and I satdown opposite each other.

“How many girls do you think have sat in these chairs to write their contracts?” SnowFlower asked. “We must write the best contract ever.”

She frowned a little and asked, “What do you think it should say?”

I thought about the things my mother and aunt had suggested. “We’re girls,” I said, “so weshould always follow the rules—” “Yes, yes, all the usual things,” Snow Flower said, a littleimpatiently, “but don’t you want this to be about the two of us?”

I was unsure of myself, while she seemed to know so much. She’d been here before andI’d never been anywhere. She seemed to know what should be included in our contract,and I could only rely on what my aunt and mother imagined should be in it. Everysuggestion I made came out like a question.

“We’re to be laotong for life? We will always be true? We will do chores together in theupstairs chamber?”

Snow Flower regarded me in the same forthright way she had in the palanquin. I couldn’ttell what she was thinking. Had I said the wrong thing? Had I said it in the wrong way?

A moment later she picked up a brush and dipped it in ink. Quite apart from seeing all my

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shortcomings today, she knew from our fan that my calligraphy was not as good as hers.But as she began to write I saw she had taken my suggestions. My sentiments and her beautiful phrasing swirled together, taking two girls and creating one common thought.