Rebirth: Looking Back in a Sudden Realization - Prologue
Blue bricks and grey tiles — a siheyuan built of brick and timber. There were only about ten rooms in total, not very large, but remarkably well kept: every plant and flower arranged with taste, everything neat and orderly. Trees shaded the courtyard, and the peonies were bursting into brilliant bloom. In the center of the yard stood a jujube tree so thick that two adults would have to stretch their arms to encircle it. Its leaves, yellowing with the passing of autumn, piled on top of one another; when the cold wind howled through, great swathes of leaves fell, whispering and rustling. Under the tree was an old well; its stone rim had long been worn smooth, a sign of the courtyard’s age.
By the well squatted a little girl, three years old or so, still wearing short sleeves as if it were summer, hugging her knees and trembling. She had a neat bob of black hair, skin like white jade, long curled lashes framing large dark eyes like stars in the night — yet now tears brimmed in those eyes and her small mouth was tightly pressed shut. She curled into herself as if afraid to make a sound.
Lately the whole compound had been cold and quiet, the atmosphere heavy. The north room still kept exquisitely carved wooden doors and windows; the furniture inside — tables, chairs, cabinets, beds — was Ming-style, the wood grain light and dark, giving off an amber sheen that marked it as fine huanghuali. The room’s antique, tasteful decoration was offset by pure wool Persian rugs on the floor, and modern appliances: a colorful television, a landline with a handset and base, a refrigerator. Movie star posters hung on the walls and a painted rice-paper picture of birds and flowers signed by the old master Bai Shi — all of it suggested both refinement and fashion. The place where a family portrait would normally hang, however, was empty. The room looked at once classical, high-end, and elegantly modern — except for tea stains on the floor, shards of Jingdezhen porcelain scattered about, and a torn family photograph — in which one could faintly make out a man, a woman, and two children.
Low sobbing came from the bedroom, mixed with the soft rustle of luggage being packed. The man with sword-like brows and starry eyes sat with his head down and a sullen face, puffing on a cigarette in great, agitated draws; his tightly knit brows and trembling fingers betrayed his resentment and fear.
After a moment, the woman stepped out carrying a suitcase. Her slender, frail figure looked exhausted and weak; her once-beautiful face was swollen, her eyes reddened to the size of walnuts. At the sight of her the man flung his cigarette butt hard onto the rug, grabbed the light suitcase from her and hurled it to the floor, shouting, “You dare leave! Just try leaving!” The woman did not argue — she dabbed at her eyes and crouched to pick up the bag.
The man grabbed her arm tightly and ground his teeth. “If you leave today, I swear I’ll destroy the Shao family — believe me! I’ll make Shao Tianwei die miserably, you hear me?!” The woman began to tremble like chaff; she bit the man’s palm hard enough to draw bl00d. He recoiled from the pain and loosened his grip. The woman shouted, “Zhao Longhua, if you dare hurt my father I’ll kill your daughter!” Zhao Longhua raised his hand and slapped her. “If you mistreat Chuyan, I’ll have you and Zhong Yuan go with her to the grave! Our whole family might as well die! Shao Tianwei has ruined my Zhao Longhua today — I want tenfold retribution!”
The woman collapsed into wailing and, reckless, lunged forward to choke Zhao Longhua’s neck, shouting, “Let’s die together! Let’s all die!” Suddenly a faint child’s voice came from outside the door: “Mama.”
Both Zhao Longhua and the woman froze, and turned to see their daughter wavering at the doorway, her face deathly pale, lips pressed so hard they were bleeding. Tears streamed like water down her face; the tracks of her tears had raised red rashes on her fair cheeks and nose.
At the sight of his child, the harshness left Zhao Longhua’s face and was replaced by heartache. The woman quickly released his throat, wiped her face, and wrapped the little girl tightly in her arms. She took a deep breath and, forcing herself to be steady, said to Zhao Longhua, “We’ll never see each other again in this life. We’ll do whatever the court decided this morning.” Zhao Longhua erupted in fury. “If that judge hadn’t been his old comrade, Shao Tianwei — how could he have ruled against our Zhao family?” He glanced at his wife’s ashen face and the trembling child in her arms and suddenly felt something rise in his throat like the taste of bl00d.
He realized then that matters were already done and could not be undone. After a long silence he bowed his head in defeat and croaked, “Fine… fine. Shao Yiner, you don’t want it — then I…” He rubbed his face, still speaking harshly, “Take care of Chuyan; she is Zhao Longhua’s daughter! If a single hair on her head is harmed, I won’t forgive the Shao family!” Shao Yiner seemed not to hear. The gaunt young woman clutched her child with one hand and lifted the not-heavy suitcase with the other, quickly passing Zhao Longhua, crossing the courtyard and stepping out through the gate — never to look back.
Only the little girl in her arms knew that, at twenty-five, Shao Yiner’s face was written over with utter despair.