A Short Story Collection with Non-Human Protagonists - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Auntie Liu’s Lover

Tang Yanqing’s heart skipped a beat. She thought of the sweet fragrance that always clung to Liu Jin.

“And then?” she pressed.

“The Lady invited me for a cup of tea. Through a glass bead, she let me see my past life.” The old man spread his right hand, revealing a faint red birthmark cutting across his palm. “I was a butcher in my past life; this is the mark left from gripping a knife. I slaughtered countless lives back then, and my suffering in this world now is merely paying back that old debt… just like my son.”

“The Lady Fox Immortal said my son’s gambling debts were caused by his own greed. She could only help him repay half; the other half depended on his own fate. She told me to go home and break open the blue brick to settle the debt. I blinked, and everything vanished. I was lying in bed—it was all just a dream.”

“I jumped out of bed and smashed this brick. Inside, there was actually a gold bar! The money from selling that gold was neither more nor less—it was exactly enough to pay half the debt. But unfortunately…”

The early summer breeze swept through the room, carrying the old man’s sigh.

“Unfortunately, the day I sold the gold, my son beat me up, snatched the money, and went gambling again. This time, he incurred a debt that truly can never be repaid. From that day on, he never came home. All these years, whether he’s dead or alive, I don’t know.”

Tang Yanqing saw the flickering tears in the old man’s eyes.

“Did you ever see the Lady Fox Immortal again after that?” Tang Yanqing asked.

The old man gave a bitter laugh and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “The Lady helped me out of the goodness of her heart, yet I raised such an unfilial son. How could I have the face to see her again?”

As they left, the old man lit a stick of incense and knelt before the blue brick from the Fox Immortal Temple, respectfully kowtowing three times.

For the rest of the day, Tang Yanqing took Lu Xiaokui to visit several urban villages near the abandoned buildings, gathering more rumors about the Lady Fox Immortal. People said she aided those in peril and granted every plea. The descriptions were mostly similar: either a young woman as radiant as peaches and plums, or an old woman with white hair and a weathered face.

On the way back to the inn, Lu Xiaokui leaned into Tang Yanqing’s ear and shouted: “Senior Sister, do you think this Fox Immortal is really that effective?”

“I don’t know.” Tang Yanqing hated talking while riding.

“I just feel like something’s weird, like something isn’t right!” Lu Xiaokui shouted again.

Tang Yanqing also felt a faint sense of unease. She felt as though she were approaching a massive secret. All the stories were like fractured sheets of floating ice, but whatever lay beneath the ice had yet to reveal its true form.

Liu Jin was in the courtyard taking down sun-dried bedsheets.

The evening sun cut diagonally into the atrium. Amidst the scattered light and shadow, she stood on her tiptoes to reach the edges of the wide fabric. The wind pressed the checkered silk of her cheongsam against the small of her back, tracing a slender, soft curve.

“Auntie Liu, let me help you,” Tang Yanqing said, walking over.

Liu Jin handed the snow-pile of sheets into her arms, her hair brushing past Tang Yanqing’s lips. In that instant, Tang Yanqing was submerged in that familiar fragrance.

A woman with the beauty of a celestial, the scent of osmanthus, a face that hasn’t aged in ten years…

Tang Yanqing dazed for a moment. If Liu Jin was the person from the stories…

Liu Jin pulled down the last sheet and stopped in front of her. “What is it, Aqing?”

Meeting the woman’s eyes, Tang Yanqing shook her head inwardly. No, it was impossible. There couldn’t possibly be such a thing in the world; they were just exaggerated, far-fetched stories. Just a coincidence.

Tang Yanqing composed herself and spoke as calmly as possible: “Where should I put these sheets?”

Grandma Gu had made a “Three Delicacies” hot pot today, filled with egg dumplings and fish fillets.

Lu Xiaokui clamored for plum wine again. The moment her lips touched the glass, she lost all restraint and began recounting the supernatural anecdotes they’d heard today with extra flair and color. The broth bubbled in the clay pot.

While serving food to Tang Yanqing, Liu Jin listened to Lu Xiaokui’s boasting. At the end, she simply gave a serene smile: “The stories are good, but you can only believe half of them.”

“Why?” Lu Xiaokui was puzzled. “They spoke with such detail, it didn’t seem like they were lying. Especially that old man in the abandoned building; he still keeps a brick from the temple on his altar.”

Liu Jin set down her chopsticks and refilled Lu Xiaokui’s glass.

“A human life is but a single brief span. Birth, aging, sickness, and death—there is too much bitterness to taste. If you occasionally encounter something that goes your way, there’s no need to credit it to some deity. If there were truly a god who answered every prayer with perfect accuracy, wouldn’t every person in this world be immortal and have every wish fulfilled?”

Lu Xiaokui sighed like a world-weary sage. “Auntie Liu has a point. If a god in heaven had to manage the troubles of 8 billion people, they’d have died of exhaustion long ago!”

“What about you, Auntie Liu?” Tang Yanqing remembered something else. “Didn’t you say you’d been to the Fox Immortal Temple too?”

Liu Jin’s hand paused slightly as she placed the wine carafe back on the table. The atmosphere turned subtly strange again.

“Oh my, what’s there to talk about? That was so many years ago. The soup is almost dry, I’ll go add some. Do you want any more vegetables?” Grandma Gu started interrupting for some reason, intentionally making a clattering noise with the dishes, seemingly wanting to prevent Liu Jin from mentioning this past.

“It’s fine, you go ahead. I’ll tell them.”

Through the hazy rising steam, Tang Yanqing saw Liu Jin’s gaze drop. The old-fashioned hanging lamp cast a warm, soft glow over her brow. Liu Jin spoke slowly, every word cruel in its sharpness.

“When I was young, there was someone I cared for deeply. We went back and forth for many years, but things never went as I wished. I heard the Fox Immortal was very effective, so I went to pray a few times and did all the rituals. Unfortunately, it didn’t work at all.”

“Eh?” Lu Xiaokui looked shocked. “Auntie Liu, you’re so beautiful, how could someone not like you!”

Liu Jin smiled softly again.

“The karmic causes of the world are thousand-fold and complex. It is not guaranteed that just because two people are of one heart, they will necessarily have a happy ending.”

Her expression as she lost herself in memory was half-nostalgic and half-regretful, as if the person who ultimately couldn’t stay by her side was still being held tenderly in her heart at this very moment.

Tang Yanqing’s throat tightened, her interest vanishing. Whatever else Lu Xiaokui and Liu Jin said slid past her ears; she couldn’t take in a single word.

“I’m full. I’m going back.” Tang Yanqing stood up and walked straight out of the dining room.

The sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed behind her. Tang Yanqing should have walked faster, but she was afraid Liu Jin might trip. She simply sighed secretly and allowed the footsteps to get closer.

Liu Jin caught up to her in the hallway. “Aqing, I made some pastries. Take them home with you.”

Tang Yanqing turned and saw the red sandalwood food box in Liu Jin’s hand. Warm light spilled from the kitchen window onto the woman’s slender arm, climbing inch by inch up her wrist before disappearing where the skin met the cuff.

“I don’t like sweets… keep them for yourself,” Tang Yanqing refused flatly.

“I knew you were coming back today, so I made them specifically for you.” Liu Jin stepped half a pace closer, holding the box out to her.

Tang Yanqing still didn’t take it. Liu Jin was almost tucked into her arms. She smelled that exotic fragrance again, and even their body temperatures touched. If the wind grew any wilder, it could weave their hair together into a knot.

They were so close. Liu Jin must be able to hear how her heartbeat vibrated through the thin air—how it trembled, how it fantasized.

“…Don’t go out of your way to make things for me.” Tang Yanqing tried to keep her voice level and steady. “Just take care of yourself.”

But her fingers were on the offensive.

She reached for the handle of the box, sliding an inch at a time along the cool edge, until finally, at the end of that long path, she touched Liu Jin’s fingertip.

Warm, soft—Auntie Liu’s fingertip.

But the contact did not linger. Liu Jin withdrew her hand, her face still wearing a perfectly composed, appropriate smile.

“It’s dark. Drive slowly.”

But Tang Yanqing clearly saw a flash of caught-off-guard panic in those amber eyes.

The hallway was soaked in the dim darkness of evening. Liu Jin’s back was a mere greyish-white silhouette, leaving Tang Yanqing alone and shaken.

For the first time, she had seen a crack in Liu Jin’s armor. The wood she held in her palm still carried the warmth of the other person.

…What does Liu Jin think of me?

Tang Yanqing rode her bike along the riverside path, letting the night breeze and the darkness blow away the restlessness in her heart.

As she rounded a corner, the headlight swept across the surface of the Jiunian River, flickeringly illuminating a dark shadow. Tang Yanqing slowed down and looked again—

There really was someone in the river.

“Hey! Stop!” Tang Yanqing shouted.

She slammed on the brakes, tossed the motorcycle into the grass by the road, and sprinted down the riverside stairs, plunging into the icy water. Fortunately, the current wasn’t too swift today. Wading through chest-deep water and stepping through the silt, she finally managed to grab the girl walking toward the center of the river.

“Stop doing something stupid! Get out!”

The suicidal girl cried loudly, trying to shake off her hand. “Leave me alone! Let me die!”

“What kind of crazy talk is that!” Tang Yanqing roared. “If you aren’t even afraid of dying, is there anything else in this world that’s scarier than death?!”

Taking advantage of the girl’s moment of hesitation, Tang Yanqing wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her back with all her might. After several rounds of struggling, they finally made it to the shore.

Two soaked people sat by the road, waiting for the police. The girl sobbed out her story.

“She’s the one who led me down this path. She promised she’d love me forever… now she says I’m too young, that I don’t know how to love, that it’s all one-sided… how can she do this to me? How can she…”

Tang Yanqing couldn’t bear to listen.

“Then you have even more reason to stay alive. Otherwise, you’ve lived all these years for nothing, and you’ll die without ever knowing what it truly feels like to have someone love you with all their heart.”

The girl seemed to have her sore spot pierced. she clutched her knees and wailed, but she didn’t mention the woman who had failed her again.

When she finally got home, Tang Yanqing dried her hair and opened the food box. The pastries inside had been shattered into pieces, the remains mixed together in a colorful mess. Only the plum wine in the thermos was still intact.

Drinking the wine, she swallowed the sweet fragments spoonful by spoonful, thinking of the girl’s tear-streaked face under the streetlights.

She rarely hated her age this much.

…If I were just a few years older, could I be a little closer to Liu Jin?

Tang Yanqing drank every drop of wine in the cup. That night, she dreamed of the second lifetime they had met.