A Lovely Girl Turning into a Rat

In Autumn Wind Teahouse, a hubbub filled the hall. Ci in a red thin dress was twanging the Chinese lute with her slender fingers and crooning a song, with a white flower in her loose hair. No one cared what she was singing. After the song, she went into a room and rested for a while, and then came out to sing again. The last song she sang was sad, but no one understood her feelings.

“The candle has burned right down.

The pattern of cannas on the painted screen appears as a blur in the dim light.

I dream about my hometown Jiangnan. The green plums in the trees have ripened.

I’m playing the flute on a little boat drifting along with the waves in the rain at night.

Voices come from the post house near the bridge. Someone is telling his unforgettable story with a local accent.”

T/N note:

Jiangnan: regions south of the Yangtze River.

Ci wandered from Jiangnan to Tange Town. At that time, her hometown suffered from a plague of locusts. There was gloom above and darkness below, with no light from the sun. The locusts flitted about in the air and destroyed all the crops and vegetables. Every time Ci raised her head, she felt frightened because she saw lots of winged insects fluttering. A few days later, she was ravenous and began to eat raw locusts. She chewed the locusts and greenish liquid filled her mouth. She couldn’t help but vomit up the locusts, but for survival, she had to force herself to eat them. Afterward, an outbreak of pestilence followed. Villager began to eat carrion and died one after another. The living people ate the dead bodies and after they died, they were eaten by others. Anyway, each human being has to die.

The night was very still and the moon cast a faint light over the ground. Ci was digging a pit for her dead family members, her fingers bloody. She needed a deep pit to bury them so that the bodies wouldn’t be dug out and eaten by other hungry villagers. There was nothing left but a Chinese lute in her house. Ci wrapped the lute in a cloth, walked out of the house with it, and then set fire to the house without hesitation.

It was a hot summer day when Ci arrived at Autumn Wind Teahouse. She looked terrible. Her fingernails were so long that they had even been curved; her hair came to her feet; and there were many lice on her torn quilted jacket.

Ci begged a waiter, “Please give me some food.” With that she scratched the noxious sore on the crown of her head and the wound started discharging pus and blood, which rolled down her ears.

The waiter kicked Ci down and cursed, “You dirty beggar! Get out of here!”

Ci struggled to her feet and stretched out her hands. “Please give me some food. I beg you.”

The waiter flew into a rage and picked up a broom to drive her away. “Get out of here!”

Li Qiufeng, who was counting the income with an abacus at the counter, heard the noise outside the gate and became annoyed. He stood up and saw a beggar standing at the gate. Different from other ordinary beggars, she carried a Chinese lute.

“Raise your head,” Li Qiufeng commanded while twisting a long hair in the fleshy nevus on his chin.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Ci raised her head and gazed in fear at the man who looked ugly and ferocious, and then extended her hand to him, “Sir, please give me something to eat. I’m so hungry.”

Li Qiufeng fixed his eyes on the woman. Although her hair was untidy, she had bright eyes and graceful eyebrows with a good figure. It was summer now but she still wore a torn quilted jacket, which made her ridiculous.

“What’s your name?” Li Qiufeng asked.

“My name is Dong Ci,” she answered in a low voice.

“San, take her to the backyard and give her two steamed buns to eat. Then, go to tidy up the woodshed. I will go to see her later,” Li Qiufeng said to the waiter and swung his sleeves.

San glanced at Ci with contempt and said, “Follow me. My master is kind-hearted. You are lucky to meet him.”

Ci followed him to the backyard. The sun was strong and she felt her ears burning. A fly on the crown of her head was sucking the pus and blood from the noxious sore. ‘My master is a lecher. This woman is the eighth female beggar he has taken in. When he is tired of her, she will be driven away,’ San thought.

“Stay here. I will fetch you some steamed buns.” With that, San slowly walked into the kitchen.

Ci felt a bit dizzy. Her lips were chapped and the taste of blood in her throat made her uncomfortable. She swayed as the houses around seemed to swim before her eyes.

Then she fell down to the ground and everything went black.

San looked at Ci who seemed in a coma and kicked her in the shins. “Don’t play possum. Get up off the ground.”

Ci picked up the steamed bun on the ground and slowly struggled to her feet. She chomped hungrily through the steamed bun and choked on it, her eyes bulging. “Water…”

San replied impatiently, “There are some water in the woodshed. You can go there and have a drink.”

The woodshed was cool and tinged yellow by light filtered through the windows. There was a basin of water on the ground. Ci squatted down and kept drinking from the basin till her belly swelled up. San said mockingly, “It’s the bath water for you. How can you drink so much?”

Ci nodded, “Thank you.”

San snorted, “Idiot! You will have a hard time.”

The door was closed by him and a bit of a wind came in. Ci leaned against a pile of wood and fell asleep. No matter how hard life was, she could sleep soundly. In a dream she was in another world and lived a life of ease.