4
" It was some time before he motioned for me to come out, and when I did so, I couldn't help glancing around nervously. The gardeners were now mere specks in the distance.
"Do they work at night as well?" I asked, looking around at the dusky pall that still thankfully covered the sky.
"It will be morning soon," said Er Lang. "But they seem to go around at all hours. You look dreadful, by the way," he remarked conversationally.
I glared at him, conscious of the way my hair had straggled out of its plaits, the dirt that encrusted my clothing, not to mention the tear stains on my grimy face. "Why does it matter? "
― Yangsze Choo , The Ghost Bride
14
" Er Lang examined his shoes in dismay. “You should have told me there was mud down here.”
“Is that all you can say?” But I was glad, so glad to see him that I hugged him tightly. Despite his concern about his shoes, he didn’t seem to mind as I pressed my grimy face against his shoulder.
“Last time it was a cemetery, and now the bottom of a well,” he remarked. “What were you doing anyway?”
As I explained, his tone became icy. “So, you saved a murderer and let yourself be abandoned. Do you have some sort of death wish?”
“Why are you so angry?” Pushing back his hat, I searched his face. It was a mistake, for faced with his unnerving good looks, I could only drop my eyes.
“You might have broken your neck. Why can’t you leave these things to the proper authorities?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Incredibly, we were arguing again. “And where were you all this time? You could have sent me a message!”
“How was I supposed to do that when you never left the house alone?”
“But you could have come at any time. I was waiting for you!”
Er Lang was incensed. “Is this the thanks I get?”
If I had thought it through, I would never have done it. But I grasped the collar of his rope and pulled his face to mine. “Thank you,” I said, and kissed him.
I meant to break away at once, but he caught me, his hand behind my head.
“Are you going to complain about this?” he demanded.
Wordlessly, I shook my head. My face reddened, remembering my awkward remarks about tongues last time. He must have recalled them as well, for he gave me an inscrutable look.
“Open your mouth then.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to put my tongue in.”
That he could joke at a time like this was really unbelievable. Despite my outrage, however, I flung myself into his arms. Half laughing, half furious, I pressed my mouth fiercely against his. He pinned me against the well shaft. The stone chilled my back through my wet clothes, but my skin burned where he held my wrists. Gasping, I could feel the heat of him as his tongue slipped inside. My pulse raced; my body trembled uncontrollably. There was only the hard pressure of his mouth, the slick thrust of his tongue. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. A river was melting in me, my core dissolving like wax in his arms. My ears hummed, I could only hear the rasping of our breaths, the hammering of my heart. A stifled moan escaped my lips. He gave a long sigh and broke away. "
― Yangsze Choo , The Ghost Bride
16
" I’ve done you a disservice,” he said at last. “It’s only fair to let you know, but you won’t have a normal life span.”
I bit my lip. “Have you come to take my soul, then?”
“I told you that’s not my jurisdiction. But you’re not going to die soon. In fact, you won’t die for a long time, far longer than I initially thought, I’m afraid. Nor will you age normally.”
“Because I took your qi?”
He inclined his head. “I should have stopped you sooner.”
I thought of the empty years that stretched ahead of me, years of solitude long after everyone I loved had died. Though I might have children or grandchildren. But perhaps they might comment on my strange youthfulness and shun me as unnatural. Whisper of sorcery, like those Javanese women who inserted gold needles in their faces and ate children. In the Chinese tradition, nothing was better than dying old and full of years, a treasure in the bosom of one’s family. To outlive descendants and endure a long span of widowhood could hardly be construed as lucky. Tears filled my eyes, and for some reason this seemed to agitate Er Lang, for he turned away. In profile, he was even more handsome, if that was possible, though I was quite sure he was aware of it.
“It isn’t necessarily a good thing, but you’ll see all of the next century, and I think it will be an interesting one.”
“That’s what Tian Bai said,” I said bitterly. “How long will I outlive him?”
“Long enough,” he said. Then more gently, “You may have a happy marriage, though.”
“I wasn’t thinking about him,” I said. “I was thinking about my mother. By the time I die, she’ll have long since gone on to the courts for reincarnation. I shall never see her again.” I burst into sobs, realizing how much I’d clung to that hope, despite the fact that it might be better for my mother to leave the Plains of the Dead. But then we would never meet in this lifetime. Her memories would be erased and her spirit lost to me in this form.
“Don’t cry.” I felt his arms around me, and I buried my face in his chest. The rain began to fall again, so dense it was like a curtain around us. Yet I did not get wet.
“Listen,” he said. “When everyone around you has died and it becomes too hard to go on pretending, I shall come for you.”
“Do you mean that?” A strange happiness was beginning to grow, twining and tightening around my heart.
“I’ve never lied to you.”
“Can’t I go with you now?”
He shook his head. “Aren’t you getting married? Besides, I’ve always preferred older women. In about fifty years’ time, you should be just right.”
I glared at him. “What if I’d rather not wait?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you mean that you don’t want to marry Tian Bai?”
I dropped my gaze.
“If you go with me, it won’t be easy for you,” he said warningly. “It will bring you closer to the spirit world and you won’t be able to lead a normal life. My work is incognito, so I can’t keep you in style. It will be a little house in some strange town. I shan’t be available most of the time, and you’d have to be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
I listened with increasing bewilderment. “Are you asking me to be your mistress or an indentured servant?”
His mouth twitched. “I don’t keep mistresses; it’s far too much trouble. I’m offering to marry you, although I might regret it. And if you think the Lim family disapproved of your marriage, wait until you meet mine.”
I tightened my arms around him.
“Speechless at last,” Er Lang said. “Think about your options. Frankly, if I were a woman, I’d take the first one. I wouldn’t underestimate the importance of family.”
“But what would you do for fifty years?”
He was about to speak when I heard a faint call, and through the heavy downpour, saw Yan Hong’s blurred figure emerge between the trees, Tian Bai running beside her. “Give me your answer in a fortnight,” said Er Lang. Then he was gone. "
― Yangsze Choo , The Ghost Bride
17
" In Cantonese, two was a good number because it made a pair. Three was also good because it was a homophone for sang, or life. Four, of course, was bad because it sounded like death. Five was good again because it made a complete set, not just of the Confucian Virtues, but also for the elements of wood, fire, water, metal, and earth. "
― Yangsze Choo , The Night Tiger
