Peach by Neighbor's House - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I put on my red wedding dress, brought Li Douhuang along, held Mother’s memorial tablet in my arms, and locked up our three rooms.

I sat inside the bridal sedan. Gongs and drums thundered, voices roared like a crowd at market, and the sedan swayed as it carried me out of Yanzi Alley and across Wanli Bridge. West of the bridge, the peach blossoms had already fallen. East of the bridge, the willow strands were still long and green.

My heart pounded and pounded, as if I were dreaming.

He lifted my veil to look at me, and I saw him in red wedding robes, his features as lovely as a painting. He was the fated troublemaker who made me lose my wits, the man I had longed for day and night.

I called, “Gu Lang.”

He raised a brow. “What?”

Only then did I realize that was improper, so I called again, “Husband.”

Only then did he smile and sit beside me.

Yes. From now on, I, Li Bitao, was Madam Gu, was Gu Li Shi, was his rightful wife in name and truth.

He toyed with one of my hands until my face flushed and my heart raced. In a low voice, he said, “Come, tell your husband how you plan to borrow it.”

I felt like a little boat tossed on the crest of a wave. All I heard was Douhuang barking in the courtyard. All I heard was him calling me Tao’er again and again.

In my heart, I scolded that silly dog. What are you barking for? This is your father.

On the third day after the wedding, Gu Li Shi brought out her embroidery basket and sorted through her needles and thread.

My husband was a scholar, a man whose shoulders could not carry loads and whose hands could not lift burdens. He had to study the books of the sages and sit the examinations for rank and title. How could I let firewood, rice, oil, and salt delay his efforts?

I had to manage this household and worry over the livelihood of two people and one dog.

My husband rolled up a book and strolled over to me. “What are you doing?”

I said, “Things are different now. I need to embroider more goods and send them out earlier.”

My husband’s face darkened a little, as if he were speechless. He said, “Li Bitao, are you planning to support your husband?”

I gave him a strange look. So petty and fussy. If I don’t support you, who am I supposed to support?

His lips pressed tight, as if he were angry. He asked me, “Where is the key I gave you on our wedding day?”

I said, “I have it. It’s in my purse.”

He said, “And you haven’t gone to open the chest and look through it?”

These past two days, I had been tidying up inside and out. Where would I have found the time to rummage through a chest? I smoothed the thread and threaded the needle, then said, “I haven’t had time to look.”

He told me to put down the needle and thread, took my hand, and pulled me to my feet, leading me to the inner room. Standing before the large chest, he tipped his chin at it and ordered me to look through it right now.

I opened the large chest and took out the smaller chest inside.

He told me to open it.

So I opened it.

The moment I did, I froze.

I asked, “What’s this?”

He said, “Banknotes.”

I asked again, “What’s this?”

He said, “Land deeds.”

I recognized the rest: bright, gleaming gold and silver.

He looked at me, standing there like a fool, then reached out and hugged me. He said, “Now that your husband has married you, you no longer need to worry about making a living. From now on, your husband will support you and protect you.”

I struggled out of his arms and looked all around.

He frowned and asked, “What are you looking for?”

I said, “I-I-I need to find a place to hide the key.”

I was so idle that my whole body felt wrong.

My husband said, “If your hands feel rusty, make shoes and clothes for your husband. If you’re bored, sit with your husband and read.”

So I sat with my husband. I stitched shoe soles while he read.

When my husband read, he became quiet and dignified. At times like that, he felt very far away from me. I craned my neck to stare at the book in his hands. The words were packed together, and not a single one of them knew me.

He turned to look at me and smiled.

I asked, “What character is this?”

He said, “Qi.”

I asked again, “And what character is this?”

He said, “Er.”

I asked, “How do you read this sentence?”

He said, “If all within the myriad lands are guilty, the guilt lies with me alone. If I alone am guilty, let it not fall upon all within the myriad lands.”

I said, “It sounds nice.”

He laughed, reached out to take the shoe sole from my hands, and pulled me onto his lap. “Your husband will teach you to write.”

I gripped the brush, and every finger felt clumsy. His palm was large and strong, guiding me to hold it steadily.

With his hand guiding mine, I wrote a character.

I asked, “What is this?”

He said, “Li. The Li of Bitao.”

Then he guided me to write Bitao, and after that, two more characters.

He said, “Guess what this is.”

I said, “Gu Lin.”

Behind me, he laughed. “Tao’er is clever. That is your husband’s name.”

He took out another sheet of paper. This time, he wrote more. I already recognized my own name and my husband’s name.

Pointing at the characters on the paper, he said, “This is ‘at.’ This is ‘home.'”

I linked them together and read softly, “Bitao is at Lin’s home.”

My husband said with tender affection, “Mm. Bitao is at Lin’s home.”

Husband stayed tucked away at home for more than ten days. Every day, he read and wrote, and he taught me to write as well. All day long, I drew ghostly scribbles.

Sitting beside his desk, I called to him, “Husband.”

He flipped through his book, his face calm, and answered through his nose, “Mm?”

I said, “I want to embroider flowers.”

A little fiercely, he said, “Even if you’re drawing, you must finish today’s lesson first.”

I could only lower my head and keep drawing talismans until my hand ached.

Mother, Bitao’s life is so bitter. Bitao has married the wrong man.

At long last, my husband was going out. In the courtyard, he undid Douhuang’s chain and said, “Come, Douhuang. Today you’re going out with Father.”

Douhuang was so delighted that he spun in circles on the spot, his huge fluffy tail wagging nonstop.

I asked, “Where are you going?”

He said, “Your husband is going out to visit a friend.”

I said, “If you’re visiting a friend, then visit a friend. Why are you taking the dog?”

Holding Douhuang’s leash, he stood in the courtyard with an aggrieved look. “Li Bitao, your husband is such a handsome young gentleman. If I go out alone, aren’t you worried?”

I rolled my eyes to the heavens. In broad daylight, what was there to worry about? Could someone really rob him, a grown man?

But seeing that expression on his face, I said, “Then be careful.”

He still did not leave. He stood there rooted to the spot, his face fallen, dog in hand.

So I said to Douhuang, “Douhuang, protect your father well. Don’t let anyone snatch him away.”

Douhuang barked his agreement. Only then did my husband beam with joy. “Your husband will be at Wangjiang Pavilion. I’ll be back before dark for certain. If you miss me, come find me.”

I had endless proper work to do. Where would I find the time to miss him? I said, “All right.” Only then did he take Douhuang and leave.

I never expected someone really would try to snatch him away-and brazenly come right to my door to do it.

After seeing father and son off, I tidied up inside and out, then found the scissors to cut cloth for winter clothes.

I had just pulled the fabric taut when someone slapped the door, bang, bang, bang.

I asked, “Who is it?”

Outside the door, an arrogant voice asked, “Is Master Gu at home?”

I opened the door and saw a little maidservant standing there, her small chin lifted high. I said, “My husband has gone out to visit a friend. He is not at home right now.”

That girl shot me a fierce glare, then stepped aside to reveal the delicate, softly bred daughter of the Prefect standing behind her.

The Prefect’s daughter looked at me coolly. “So you’re Li Bitao.”

I replied, “I am Gu Li Shi. What business do you have with my husband, miss?”

Her eyes reddened at once. Gritting her pearly teeth, she demanded, “What right do you have to marry him?”

I said, “I wanted to find him and have a son with him, and he sent someone to propose. What right is there to speak of?”

She said, “You have no shame!”

I was speechless. That counted as shameless? We did far more shameless things every day. So I ignored her, turned around, and went back to my work. I left the door open. If she wanted to come in, she could. If she wanted to leave, she could.

The young lady cried in front of my door while I cut cloth in the courtyard. I had long since learned his build by touch-how broad his shoulders were, how long his legs were. I measured with my hands, and the length and width came out about right.

The young lady stared at me cutting cloth. After staring for a while, she cried again. My heart softened a little, and I said, “Miss, don’t just stand there. He won’t be back until after dark. If you want to wait, come in and wait.”

So she came in to wait. Sitting in my courtyard, her eyes wandered all around. She looked at his study with its door open, then at his clothes drying on the bamboo pole, and then she started crying again.

I sighed and said, “My husband isn’t all that wonderful. Sometimes he’s rough with people, and his temper isn’t very good either.”

The young lady said, “What do you know?”

Then I stopped wanting to bother with her. She was pining after my husband, yet she had the nerve to ask what I knew.

I carried the cut cloth into the house. Seeing where the sun was, I went to his study, picked up a piece of scrap paper, and used it to start the fire for supper.

The young lady’s eyes went wide. “You’re using his calligraphy to light a fire?”

I said, “There’s plenty more in the basket. If I don’t burn it, what else am I supposed to do with it?”

The young lady said, “Do you know how many people outside would pay a fortune to get a single piece of his writing?”

Then let them ask for it. It wasn’t as if his hand was crippled. When I embroidered a handkerchief, there were plenty of people outside asking for that too.

The young lady rose in a huff and finally stormed out with that maid whose eyes grew on top of her head.

Just as night was falling, he came home leading Douhuang.

Before I could question him, he was the one wearing a dark expression first.

With that dark face, he swept up his robe and sat down in a chair. “My temper isn’t good?”

Well now. So they had met after all.

I glanced at Li Douhuang, who had tucked his tail and hidden in the corner. Was his temper supposed to be good? The moment his face darkened, even the dog was afraid.

I set the bowls and chopsticks on the table. He said, “Answer me first.”

I said, “Eat if you want to. If you don’t, go eat at the Prefect’s house.”

Only then did he look a little sheepish. “I merely ran into her at the bridgehead. I didn’t even speak to her.”

Hah. Didn’t speak to her, yet he knew the matter in such detail.

He stared at me for a moment, then said with laughter in his voice, “I don’t like her. Not even the tiniest bit. Tao’er, you’re the only one in my heart.”

What a shameless scoundrel.

I said, “Hurry up and wash your hands. The food is getting cold.”

He sidled over with a grin and asked, “When have I ever been rough with you?”

I glared at him and asked, “When I told you to be gentler, were you ever gentler?”

He thought about it, coughed, and said, “No.”

I asked again, “When I told you to stop, did you ever stop?”

His face reddened and his ears went hot. “No.”

Hands on my hips, I demanded, “If that isn’t being rough, then what is it? Are you saying I wronged you?”

He put on a shameless face and said, “Your husband was wrong. Your husband was rough. Your husband will change tonight.”

That night, I lay with my back to him, but he came pestering me thick-skinned as ever. “Tao’er, aren’t you going to check whether your husband has improved?”

Improved, my foot.

Only when he was damp with sweat and had gathered me into his arms, lying lazily on the pillow, did he show a bit of tenderness. He said, “From now on, don’t open the door so casually. I don’t feel at ease.”

My husband had many things to do every day. He had to attend literary gatherings at the academy, and people often invited him out, so he was frequently away from home.

I helped him change into the new winter clothes I had cut and sewn. They fit him neat and proper. He was quite the handsome young gentleman.

He held my hand against his chest, kissed my mouth, then rubbed his cheek against me and said softly, “Why are you always keeping yourself busy?”

Mother had never taught me how to be idle.

I said, “How am I not idle? I’m so idle my hands are getting clumsy.”

He said, “You could be like the young ladies and wives of other households. Go out to admire flowers, listen to opera, buy rouge and powder.”

I said, “Women of decent households shouldn’t show their faces in public too much. It isn’t proper, in the end.”

He thought about it and said, “True. With the way you look, I wouldn’t feel at ease either. Your husband will accompany you another day.”

The very next day, he took me out to listen to opera. Along the way, people called him Master Gu, and they called me Madam Gu. He smiled and answered, “I’m taking my wife out to listen to opera.”

At the teahouse, we ran into several scholars, who came over to bow and called him Brother Gu, then called me sister-in-law. Those men laughed and said to him, “Brother Gu no longer gathers with us these days. So it turns out he’s been keeping his wife company.”

Someone else said, “Earlier, Brother Gu said he would not marry before attending Qionglin. Now that we’ve seen our sister-in-law, we finally understand why Brother Gu went back on his word in such a hurry.”

They surrounded him and teased him until my face flushed bright red. He laughed and scolded them, telling them to get lost. Then he took my hand and led me upstairs. Everyone looked over at us. I tried two or three times to pull my hand free but couldn’t, and he asked in a low voice, “What are you trying to run from?”

He truly had no sense of embarrassment.

I sat with my husband in a private booth to listen to the opera.

The operas were all about talented scholars and beautiful ladies. The beauties paired with those scholars were either young ladies of noble families or famous courtesans. There were no embroidery girls.

I felt a little disappointed.

After we returned home, he asked me, “Why are you unhappy?”

I said, “It’s nothing. Let’s not go to the opera again. I don’t like it anyway.”

He looked at me for a moment, then lowered his head and kissed me.

Some time later, he dragged me out to listen to opera again.

He said, “Your husband wrote this one himself. Are you really not going?”

I hadn’t known my husband had such skill, so I had no choice but to go with him.

Pointing at the words on the teahouse signboard, he said, “The opera is called West of Wanli Bridge. The young master is named Lin Gu, and the beauty is named Jiaoli.”

He smiled with some smugness, making my heart hang in the air.

Jiaoli was an embroidery girl. After finishing an embroidered pouch, she went out to deliver the goods, only to be harassed halfway there. Young Master Lin of the Lin family stepped in righteously, beat off the scoundrel, and rescued Jiaoli.

I watched Jiaoli on the stage, timid and delicate, her face flushed like rosy clouds, her powdered cheeks full of spring. Facing Young Master Lin, she gave a graceful little bow and said, “May I ask Young Master Lin Gu for his honorable surname and great name?”

The audience roared with laughter.

I was so embarrassed I couldn’t lift my head. Secretly, I pinched his arm. “How could you write all of that into it!”