Meandering River, Ardent Flame
Page 4
Chapter 3: Yongtai
Several days later, after Flame had gone through breakfast preceded by morning chants, the novices from closer villages returned. Flame heard them chatting animatedly about Qing Ming Jie.
“I only had to visit two grandparents,” said one.
“You're fortunate. I paid my respects to no less than twenty-five ancestors,” said another, clearly from the larger family, with so many graves and shrines to visit.
“I didn't see any,” piped another. “I don't have parents.”
Everyone stared.
Flame happened upon the scene. “Neither do I. It's not a sin, you know.” She couldn't explain why she'd spoken, but she felt it was right to do, for the poor novice surrounded by disapproving looks.
“We all know that,” said one of the recent arrivals whom Flame had taken to disliking right away. “But running from the magistrate is. You shouldn't even be here. Everyone knows your sister ran here to escape a marriage, and your father had to pay for it.” Most of the novices watched, faces flatly polite, but Flame knew they all agreed. Even the young novice looked at her seriously.
Flame clenched her fists. “At least my elder sister's not married to some old fishmonger.” She knew this was the truth for some of the girls' sisters. But the words had little impact.
“Why would anyone ever want to run from marriage into Family Li?” continued the girl. “They're rich, they have land, and a son who's passed his imperial exams and will follow his father into government service. Truly, your sister must have been blind, even before she started reading all those books.”
For the umpteenth time, Flame wondered why everyone knew that her sister read so much. She got her answer. Jiang stepped from the library into the courtyard with a stack of books tied together. Flame noticed that this didn't keep her from reading the top one, as it was without a cover.
“Hey, scholar! Tell your younger sister here that I'm right!” shouted the girl. Some of the bolder ones tittered in their sleeves. Jiang looked up absently. “Whatever the question was, there are always two opposite answers. I have confidence that you will resolve it without my opinion. Excuse me, I need to transport these books.” She walked into the opposite building.
Into her head, most like, thought Flame, somewhat annoyed at her sister's failure to help her. She turned squarely back to the girl. “You're wrong. Family Li isn't rich at all.” She remembered all the times the magistrate would turn up in their village and rent a palanquin since he didn't own one. Horses too, sometimes.
The girl snorted. “Do you walk with your eyes shut and your ears closed? Everyone knows that Family Li owns tens of hundreds of li all along the Yellow River!”
Flame had no idea when that had happened, but she had been at the monastery for seven years, and this girl had arrived last month. Thus she conceded grudgingly to herself that there was the slightest possibility that this wasn't a lie to spite her. And anyway, she was going to be late for morning duties in the garden, which she enjoyed. She shrugged and gave her blankest polite look. The girl gave a huff.
“You'd better run along before you're late. Better yet, maybe you should run somewhere further where Magistrate Li won't find you, yes?”
Flame stalked away, fuming. Li had an unfortunate way of being brought up everywhere. Speak of Cao Cao, and Cao Cao will come, was the idiom that sprang to mind, even though Flame was fairly confident that Li wasn't going to be showing up physically at that instant like the wily general. The magistrate was, however, coming into a lot of conversations, starting from when she'd mentioned him a mere few days earlier to her sister.
She arrived in the garden, on time. Sister Ma was there to meet her.
“Sister Ma,” greeted Flame, bowing. The nun nodded. “Good morning, Flame. You'll be mushroom-picking today. Or rather finding them. It's rather early to be pulling them out, but I will be showing you how to find them so that you can pick them later.”
It had been seven years, but Flame had never gone mushroom-picking before. She wondered if Sister Ma had known about her altercation with that girl. As if to support her thoughts, Sister Ma added:
“It will be good for you to leave the walls for a while, to learn some self-sufficiency. Mushroom-picking is a useful skill.”
That caught Flame's interest. She wondered vaguely if she could eat some while picking. They only ate twice daily at the monastery, and never after noon, as per the Ten Precepts that applied even to novices.
“Don't eat any before you check with me,” Flame was warned, as Sister Ma handed her a straw basket and ushered her from the garden. “I'll meet you in a few moments in the large grove you'll find by following the main path south until it crosses the river and branches off about forty paces east. No problems?” Flame shook her head. She thought she remembered it all, though the nun had been a bit long-winded.
“Good. See you again later.” Sister Ma sprang lightly to the garden. Flame thought she might have been fifty, but the lack of grey hair—indeed, any hair, as the nuns were all shaved bald—made it hard to tell. Flame was rather bad at guessing ages. She left the monastery through the front gate and followed the bent path that curved sharply from the entranceway to the river.