Characters
Siu-Chun Lei - Hong Kong
Mei-Lin Lei - Taiwan
Siu-Keung Lei - OC
Wai-Chau Lei- OC
Tsun-Hin Hsui - OC
Chapter 3 - Home, Sweet Home
秋季到来荷花香,
大姑娘夜夜梦家乡。
醒来不见爹娘面,
只见窗前明月光。
Autumn comes and the lotus flowers are sweet
The maiden dreams of home night after night
When she wakes up she doesn't see the faces of her mom and dad
Just the moonlight shining at the foot of the bed
When Yao opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a large blank square, brightly lit in white. He squinted slightly, the sudden brightness that he stared at blinding him. After his eyes adjusted slightly, he looked around, confused as to where he was, before familiarity dawned on him as he glanced around the dimly lit room, taking in the lingering scent of roasted and salted sunflower seeds.
Why am I here? He was in a chair, a lightly padded yet uncomfortable chair, inside a movie theatre that he had visited a few times when he was younger with his parents when they could afford the trip to Guangzhou, along with his distant aunties and uncles in the village.
Yao was alone in the theatre, sitting in the middle row, the equally uncomfortable chairs bare and unused. Unsure of why he was in a movie theatre in Guangzhou, nevermind an empty movie theatre, in the first place, Yao was about to stand on his feet when he suddenly heard the whirring of film being rolled come from the room overseeing the theatre, and moving stark lines were displayed on the blank screen. When he heard the sound of a specific music number and the screen turn grey, he instantly knew what film was playing.
He had the fortune of watching screenings of Zhou Xuan old films in this particular theatre with his parents since he was around 7, and it was the first time Yao has ever been to a movie theatre.
The first time he went, they watched an old Zhou Xuan film, Three Stars by The Moon, a silent film that had her sing her popular song When Will He Returnthrough a speaker in the background. That exact film was currently playing on the screen, cutting right to the scene where she sings the song.
"Lovely flowers don't bloom very often
Beautiful scenes aren't always here to stay
Worries dissolve my smiles
Memories of love bring back tears
After you leave tonight
When will you come back again?
After this drink, please have a little side dish
We don't get drunk in life often
Why wait to have a wonderful time?"
Yao watched with intent as Zhou Xuan sang her infamous song in the film, an accordion accompanying her voice, but for some reason, the film kept replaying the same portion on a loop, the music whirring back to the beginning of the song.
That's odd, he thought as he got off the chair and onto his feet, the eeriness of the silent and empty theatre causing goosebumps to appear along his bare arms. He could see an exit sign on the bottom corner of the room, and started to make his way there, his steps echoing against the stairs until he opened the heavy door.
A stark contrast to the modern theatre room he was just in, Yao was greeted with a hollow corridor with faded golden posts holding up a tiled roof - a temple's sky well. Lit paper lanterns, round and red, hung along wooden columns, the orange hues dancing around as the lantern swayed gently, and the smell of burning incense clinged to the air.
Yao took the nearest lantern, drawn to the beauty of the simplistic design and size that he rarely ever sees, wonder dwelling, and he walked down the corridor, glancing between the columns. There were faint traces of grey statues, chipped and decayed from neglect, and from the deepest parts of Yao's memories, he felt slight nostalgia. He had been to this temple before, long ago- it was the Dafo Temple in Guangzhou, where his father had taken him once during the Mid-Autumn Festival, before they had to celebrate in the secrecy of their home.
Down the hall he went, until he realized the columns started to fade into darkness. He was unsure where exactly he was, darkness surrounding everywhere he looked, when he saw white light, a spotlight, shine over an object. As Yao approached it, there was gleam that reflected into his face, making him realize that the object was a mirror.
He looked into the mirror, a long and wide mirror that is unlike the one handheld mirror his mother owned and locked inside her wooden dresser along with the items she deemed as too valuable to be left outside. He saw himself as he is now, with his chestnut hair disgustingly shorter than he would have liked it to be, dark circles from fatigue underneath his narrow eyes, and his handmade clothings of a short-sleeve top and wide pants hung over him and his thin body.
Suddenly, he heard an echo of a knock directly behind him, and he turned around only to be greeted by the neverending darkness behind him. He then looked back at the mirror, and was taken aback at the reflection he saw.
Yao knew that it was him in the mirror, but he looked nothing as he did just moments ago. Instead of a Yao with choppy hair and ratty clothes, he saw a Yao with long hair that flowed up down to his waist, and wearing a long red cheongsam, adorned with hand embroidered magnolia flowers and leaves on the bottom corner, lined with yellow on the sleeves and the overlapping parts. He knew right away where he has seen this cheongsam, and a memory returned to his mind.
His mother had a single fancy cheongsam from long ago before she got married that she had kept locked inside her wooden dresser. One day, when Yao believed he was home alone, he tried to put on the cheongsam, wanting to embody the womanliness that came with the dress. It hugged his body nicely, accentuating his waist, and brought out the golden brown of his eyes, and for once Yao found himself to be beautiful. Beautiful...it's a word you wouldn't use to describe a boy.
"Yao," A low voice, his father's voice, echoed behind him suddenly. The familiar panic that he had felt when he first wore the cheongsam surged in Yao's body, and he felt his legs tense. There was a tinge of anger in his father's voice, "What are you wearing?"
Yao once again turned around, only to again be greeted with nothing. When he looked ahead to the mirror, he found the mirror was gone, and much further ahead was a flickering yellow light. Seeing as there was nowhere else to go in the darkness that surrounded him, Yao slowly walked towards the light, feeling anticipation build up inside him.
A rhythmic beat surrounded him, muffled at first, until it became louder and louder with every step Yao took until he could distinctly hear it as the sounds of wooden sticks hitting a drum. A distinct high-pitched sound sung over the beat of the drum, a suona, accompanied by the cry of an erhu whimsically playing. The clink-clink-clink of cymbals can also be heard in the orchestra of music, ritualistic chants sung lowly, and as Yao reached the light, he realised the source was from a lone pit of fire surrounded by exactly nine white tiles.
Through the orange flames that danced in front of Yao, he could see a small, brown round box with a lid curved upwards and the side curved out. Wreaths made of white chrysanthemum and lilies in a teardrop like shape sat underneath the box, the sweet scent mixing in with the incense that remained in the air. His heart started to beat to the sound of the drum as he circled around the fire, careful to avoid touching the white tiles, when the realisation dawned on him as he looked at the box and down to the tiles. 9 white tiles - 9 levels of hell.
The box was a coffin, and Yao could feel his throat tighten as he walked up to it, knowing who it belonged to. The sound of the tiles shattering in the backdrop, one by one, pierced through the music, and Yao felt his breathing become shallow.
"Mama," Yao whispered weakly as he stood in front of the coffin, the lid slightly open to allow Yao to see the corpse that laid inside. It was his mother, looking as she had always been, with soft skin wrinkled and her black hair with wisps of grey pulled back. She looked healthier than he had Yao could feel hot tears running down his face as he placed his arms over the ledge of the coffin, hiding his eyes so he could not see her.
"Yaoyao," he heard the voice faintly, almost as if it had beenthe wind. The nickname was a familiar one, and the voice continued, "Is that you, my little one?"
Yao lifted his head, the voice comforting and familiar, and he looked over to his mother, hope in his eyes. But instead of looking at the woman he had seen before, the woman laying in front of him was pale and thin, her cheekbones protruding and her eyes deep set and wide open- just as she had looked like before Yao left.
"Yaoyao," his mother's voice was now a croak, as Yao felt sick to the stomach as she twisted her head to look at him, lifting a hand, the skin tight around the bone, towards his neck. A streak of blood suddenly spilled over her chapped lips and down her chin, as she crooned, "Why did you leave me here to die?"
Yao was suddenly pulled away by the collar of his shirt and fell backwards, only to hit water that had replaced the floor beneath him. He felt the cold waters envelope him as he stared up, a weight pulling him further and further into darkness, bubbles of air leaving his mouth until the fire became a distant rippled light.
"He's still breathing just fine. Be sure to feed him well once he wakes up, and especially give him soup-based meals so he won't be dehydrated. I'll leave some herbs here so you can make him leung cha as well."
"I'm so sorry for bothering you like this today, Tsun-Hin," a woman's voice, muddled and distant, replied in a hushed tone, the soft-spoken timbre familiar to Yao. "Unfortunately I can not pay you right away-"
"It is no problem, Chun-Yi. Your family has always been kind to me, and I owe your husband a great deal for helping me start out my own practice," a man's voice said, and Yao attempted to shift his body a bit, back immediately becoming sore and knotted.
A low groan escaped his throat, squeezing his eyes before opening them slightly, the dimness of the room allowing for his pupils to become adjusted immediately, and he took in his surroundings. He was on a bed, in a relatively large room, with a low ceilings with the wooden beams exposed and a simple desk underneath the window that was propped open slightly. A short wooden dresser sat beside him, underneath a tray with two white bowls, one with what seems like a cold beef stew and the other with a plain congee, a thick rice pudding, and a glass filled with water, along with a jug.
Yao tried to sit up, his elbows indenting the hard mattress he was laying on, hissing slightly in pain from the stiffness of his body moving after being still for so long. He glanced over to the door that allowed a sliver of yellow light into the room, the voices coming from behind.
Confusion settled in, but for an odd reason, he didn't feel the need to bound off the bed and swing the door open to find out where he was. He found the room to be comforting and homely, and there appeared to be no immediate danger. The light sheet, a beige cotton, allowed air to cool Yao's body, which had been hot and covered in sweat from the dream nightmare that he just experienced.
Yao felt a dull pain in his head, and his eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to recollect where he might be, images swimming around. Is he still in Guangdong? No, definitely not, he remembers swimming across the bay with Dong, as much as he wanted to lock away that moment to not feel the pain he had to experience.
Hong Kong. He was in Hong Kong, he reached Hong Kong and walked through a forest to Un Long Town and seeing his aunt inside a tavern room and...
I made it, Yao thought, taking in deep breathes, an accumulation of emotions building up, and he could feel tears start to spill down his cheeks.
Those tears were tears of relief for being alive. Tears of pain after experiencing what felt like an eternity of excruciating pain. But most of all, his tears were tears of guilt. Guilt for being relieved to be alive while Dong's body decays at the bottom of the sea floor, alone. Guilt for leaving his dying mother alone, not knowing if she was dead or alive at this point. Guilt for being safe, and leaving behind his life in China and not being able to go back even if he wanted to.
The door creaked open, and Yao immediately looked up, tears still there. Chun-Yi stood in the doorway, the yellow light entering the room and casting her shadow on the floor. Yao could not see her as well, and she lightly stepped across the wooden floor towards Yao when she noticed he was sitting up on his bed.
"Yao," she breathed, her voice ever so soft, as she walked up to the chair that stood in front of the drawer, turning on the lamp.
"Ayi," Yao's voice cracked as he stared dumbfounding, not knowing what else to say, and Chun-Yi immediately took the glass of water from the tray and pushed it towards him.
"Drink! You must drink!" Chun-Yi said in a much more demanding tone, and Yao did not argue, taking big gulps from the glass until he finished it. The moment he stopped, Chun-Yi placed the tray on his lap, holding up the stew inside, mumbling, "Eat, eat.", pouring more water from the jug.
Yao accepted the bowl without question, and Chun-Yi quickly stood up to walk towards the doorway. He glanced over beyond the door, into the hallway, where he could see was a man that was definitely not her husband, Yao's Yijerng, Wai-Chou, with slicked back hair and round glasses resting on the bridge of his long nose. He looked like he was important, a doctor likely- he had a black briefcase in his hands and a long instrument, a stethoscope, around his neck over top his western style clothings of a collar shirt and high waisted pants. The man held on to a pouch of sorts, a small white cotton pouch that Chun-Yi took.
"You have a strong one, Ms. Lieng," the man said, bowing his head slightly to tip his hat. "I'll check up on him tomorrow."
"I'll get my son to see you out," Chun-Yi replied as she peered through the door frame. "Mei-Mei! Ah-Chun! Come here!"
"Whaaaat, Ahma?" a muffled reply from a young girl yelled back, and Yao could hear the boards of the hallway creak as quick footsteps walked up to his room.
"Ah-Chun," Chun-Yi demanded, her voice in control, and Yao could barely see much beyond her body, but the name was familiar. It was what she called her second son, Siu-Chun, a boy who was many years younger than Yao. The last time Yao saw him, he was only an child. "Please show Mr. Hsui out. And Lin-Lin, I want you to make leung cha with these herbs."
"Why do I have to do it?" The voice, belonging to whom he assumes was Lin-Lin, whined slightly, and Mr. Hsui left, accompanied by a boy with dark brown hair that Yao only saw a sliver of as they walked down the hallway. "I'm tired from studying."
"Ah, why did I raise such a spoiled little girl," Chun-Yi tutted. "Biugo is awake and Mr. Hsui wants him to be hydrated, and also wants him to drink herbs. Now be a good daughter and make a pot of lung cha. And bring two cups as well."
"Biugo is awake now?" The girl's voice chimed, and she shifted over slightly, filling the gap left by the doctor.
Yao could make up her profile from where he sat, and he does not remember who she was, thought her name rings a bell- she was young, a child even, with a tiny frame and a short height. Her face was round with big eyes that were angular, like that of a cat's, and a rounded nose above small pouty lips. For someone who was living in Hong Kong during August, Yao was surprised that the girl didn't appear to have much colour of a tan on her face, being a light peachy tone, though her arms were a bit more beige. She was wearing a light pink pyjama set, a more western style with a collar short shirt.
She grinned, small and catlike, and she raised her hand, waving. She said in a bubbly voice, "It's nice to see you awake, Yao Biu!"
"Um, you too?" Yao said, confounded with how loosely she used his first name, especially since Yao did not know this girl, and she quickly plucked the pouch from Chun-Yi and walked away, leaving Chun-Yi shaking her head after saying something under her breathe.
"Do you remember Mei-Lin?" Chun-Yi asked, noticing how Yao stared at her with bewilder, and Yao shook his head at the name. "Do you remember when we visited you and your Mama, years ago?"
"I was only 12," Yao nodded, knowing that Chun-Yi and her children did in fact visit Jiuqiu before Chairman Mao's election into office. He remembered Chun-Yi's two sons, his cousins- Siu-Keung was the eldest, being 6 years younger than Yao, and Siu-Chun, who was two year Siu-Keung's junior. He does know that Chun-Yi had another child, who he remembers as a cherubic baby during their visit- a girl child that he affectionately called Muimui, as if she were his own sister.
Upon thinking of the baby, who he would carry on his back and she would babble loudly in his ear, and Yao felt even more confounded with the realisation. "Is that Muimui?"
"Aw, I remember how you used to call her that," Chun-Yi laughed softly, handing him the bowl of congee with a pair of silver chopsticks, which Yao accepted graciously. He was not a necessarily a fan of congee, finding the pudding to be a bit bland and lacking of flavour (then again, they mostly fed infants this meal), but he hasn't eaten something of this size for the past few weeks. It would be wise not to eat anything too heavy as well, the pudding being light on his stomach.
"Your Mama would always help you tie Lin-Lin on your back so you could carry her around," Chun-Yi continued, coming out more as a distant sigh. "And you would play with all of them whenever I couldn't pay much attention to them. That was a good summer, wasn't it?"
"It was," Yao said, the colourful sunny days surfacing as images in his mind.
"How is Gaje?" Chun-Yi asked, the question being one Yao was expecting her to ask sooner or later. Yao took a deep breathe, trying to make sure her voice was steady.
"She's ill," Yao replied. "She...is mostly in bed. They say she may not live long."
A dreadful silence filled the air, and Yao had to take another gulp of water to hold the congee and stew in his stomach.
"And your father? What happened to him?"
"I don't know. He was arrested in July by the government," Yao said, his voice low. He could see Chun-Yi's nostrils narrowing, taking in a sharp inhale, and just nodded. Her eyes were watering, turning slightly red, but she held the tears back, and sadly smiled.
"She sent you here for a reason," Chun-Yi said softly, and placed a gentle hand over Yao's, sending a chill down his arm. "I'm happy to see you're alive and well. You don't have to explain anything until you get your strength back. Please, just try to relax and rest."
"Ahma, Mr. Lam says he needs you in the kitchen," a boy's voice called from the hallway, and Chun-Yi sighed in annoyance.
"I'll be back to check you. Do you want more stew?" Chun-Yi asked, getting up quickly and flattened the front of her dress.
"No, thank you."
"Lin-Lin should be here with the leung cha," Chun-Yi replied, ready to leave. "Rest."
"Yes," Yao said softly, and he listened as Chun-Yi's fading footsteps, with the boy's straying behind.
"Muimui, don't drop the tray," Yao heard the same boy mock loudly, as footsteps ran down the corridor, and he could hear Mei-Lin yell.
"Ahma! Daigo is blocking the way!"
After a second of silence, Mei-Lin's face peered through the door, the catlike smile she left with on her face. She had undone her braid from earlier, letting her dark brown hair flow freely, and Yao felt slightly envious over how healthy it appeared, voluminous with a soft shine.
"Helloo? Can I come in?" Mei-Lin asked, taking steps into the room before Yao could say 'yes', holding a small tray with two clay cups faced down and a teapot.
He noticed there was also a plate of a pastries with a yellow filling in the center of the open shell, and his closed mouth started to salivate when he realised that they were egg tarts. He hasn't had one in a long time.
Mei-Lin continued, with the formal voice of a server, "I brought you some nice leung cha, as you requested. And a few snacks, just in case."
I didn't request it but… "Thank you."
"Can I drink some with you?" Mei-Lin continued, setting the tray on to the dresser besides Yao. She quickly pulled up the chair and sat down, pouring the contents of the teapot into the cups. "I really don't want to go back to studying maths- If I'm with you, I have an excuse."
"By all means, you can stay, thought I don't think I would be entertaining to you," Yao replied with a half-hearted laugh, finding his voice that had been stuck since he got here, and accepted the cup Mei poured into.
He took a small sip, the cold tea refreshing his throat, and the bitterness of the infused herb leaving a odd taste in his mouth, yet he keeps drinking. Mei-Lin, on the other hand, took one sip and her face twisted in disgust, and she quickly put the tea away, before taking an egg tart in her hand. Yao waits until she nibbled on the shell to take one for himself.
He admired it for a bit, feeling the crust under his hand and the shine on the smooth and rounded yellow filling, and he took a small nibble of one side.
"Who were you yelling at in the hallway?" Yao asked, not wanting the silence to cause the girl discomfort. He had known her once, playing with her and caring for her, yet time and distance had caused them to become strangers. Yao would like to get to know her once again, and to ensure there wasn't a drift between himself and his cousins. He would be around them more often from now on.
"Just Daigo. He's so mean to me," Mei-Lin sighed, referencing her elder brother, Siu-Keung, her voice still light, and Yao noticed the odd rhythm to how she spoke as she continued. "But you look nice. I honestly didn't know who you were when I first saw you- I wanted to stay back but Ahma wanted me to go to my tutoring class today. I hate it, there's still a week left of summer break, but Ahma wants me to do better in math. I'm actually going into Primary 6 soon- I can't wait to finish this year and go to a secondary school afterwards- their uniforms are so cute! How old are you, by the way? I'm turning 12 soon- in October actually. When is your birthday?"
"I'm born in October as well," Yao replied, trying to keep up with her questions, not used to hearing someone who was practically a stranger talk as much as Mei-Lin did. "I'll be turning 22."
"Wow, you're old!" Mei-Lin exclaimed. "I thought you were Daigo's age!"
"How rude!" Yao responded without thought, amazed at how blunt she was. "You can't go around calling people old! And 22 is still quite young!"
"Compared to someone like Ahma, maybe," Mei-Lin quipped, undisturbed with how disrespectful she came across. "But you're not even in school, so technically, you're not young. People get married at your age! Are you married, Yao Biu?"
"No," Yao stretched his response, not sure how to venture through the question. .
"Are you planning to get married here?" Mei-Lin asked, and again Yao shook his head. "Then why did you leave home to come here?"
It never occured to Yao that Mei-Lin may not know exactly why Yao is in Hong Kong and how he managed to get here. He assumed that she had learned about what had happened in the mainland, but likely minimally.
"What did Ayi tell you?" Yao asked with a lighter tone, trying to figure out how he would explain.
"Ahma said you were came here to have a better life than what you had back home," Mei shrugged. "So I assumed you were going to get married and get a job here."
"A job yes, but I'm unsure of marriage this soon," Yao replied. Back home...her use of it was odd, considering that she was born and raised in Hong Kong, but she must be saying it thanks to Chun-Yi and Wai-Chou.
Yijerng was also from the province of Guangdong, a businessman from Guangzhou. The two had relocated to Hong Kong soon after their wedding, with the prospect of being richer here than they would have been if they stayed. Mei-Lin's parents must have said it offhandedly, not wanting to break their link to where they were from, and it stuck with their children. Or, at least, with Mei-Lin.
"Everyone around me says that the best life would be the married life for girls. That's why Ahma wants me to do well in school and go to university- so that I would have an easier time getting married to a nice smart boy afterwards!"
They start to really talk about this when you're young, Yao thought as he muffled out a laugh, thought it saddened him to hear this from Mei-Lin. She was only 12- technically only in primary school. To him, she had plenty of time to not think of marriage. Yet, the same had happened to Yao, when he was much younger, and especially due to his admiration for Zhou Xuan.
His father would often joke, "Yao, are you going to marry someone like Zhou Xuan when you're older?" To which Yao would just nod his head, not wanting to admit that he would rather marry Zhao Dan, an actor that played opposite to Zhou Xuan in Street Angel.
"Is that what you want to do?" Yao asked, and Mei-Lin quirked her eyebrows up, confused. "Do you want to get married right after you finish university?"
"No, not really. Actually, I don't think I ever want to be with a boy. They're so annoying! Especially this one boy I study with, he keeps leaving love letters in my cubby," Mei-Lin replied, before her tone a bit hushed, shaking her head. "Oh! Don't tell Ahma about this boy! She would be so angry if she knows how much he tries to talk to me, she might think that I want to be with him!"
"I won't tell her, don't worry," Yao grinned, finding the gesture of love letters to be sweet. He assumed Mei-Lin was just saying that she found the boy annoying as a way to hide her own feelings, but from the look of annoyance on her face, she truly did find the boy to be a pest. "Did you tell him to stop?"
"Yes! Many times! But even when I do, he still keeps chasing me!" Mei-Lin rolled her eyes, taking another bite from the tart. "And all my friends think because I talk to him that I like him!"
"That is frustrating, isn't it?"
"Yes! Were you like that when you were my age, Yao-Biu?" Mei-Lin asked, curiosity in her eyes.
"No," Yao replied. "I would never annoy anyone or send love letters like that. Especially if they told me to stop."
Which was partly true. He never ensued anybody when he was young. Jun-Min was the one who did it when they met and they knew about each other's preferences. He did, however, send love letters to his then lover, though he likes to lock that aspect of his life away.
"Don't tell Ayi, but I did have someone back home, during my secondary school" Yao replied, feeling that this was a way of making a connection with the young girl, and Mei-Lin's eyes lit up deviously upon hearing this secret. "But she ended up marrying someone else."
"Why didn't you marry her first?" Mei asked, eyes with intent, waiting for Yao to answer.
"Her family wanted to marry her off right away," Yao replied, calmly. "And I was supposed to go to the north to continue university and...I guess her family just wanted her to get marry someone they deem fit."
"Oh," Mei-Lin's tone dropped, her thin eyebrows pulled up, and Yao could see her mood dramatically shift.
"That was a long time though," Yao replies light heartedly, taking another egg tart. "Way back. It's nothing but a memory now."
"Maybe you'll meet the one you're meant to be with here," Mei-Lin replied, her voice full of fascination. "Your soulmate."
"My soulmate?"
"Yep! Your soulmate connected by the red string," Mei-Lin explained lifting both hand, separating them. "The one Yue Lao would connect between two people destined together."
"You believe in that?" Yao asked, familiar with the tale of the red thread. It's a common folklore that would be told as a child, mostly from word of mouth rather than through a book. Yue Lao, the god of marriage and love, would appear under the moon and attach a red string on all couples who are destined to be together. From what Chun-Yan had told Yao, the tale of the old man under the moon, starts when a man named Wei-Gu encountered Yue Lao in the City of Song reading a book under the moonlight.
The young man asked Yue Lao what he was reading, and the god responded that he was reading the Book of Marriages. He further tells Wei-Gu that in his pack he had, there were red threads that once he would use to attach a man and woman, whom, would become husband and wife. Wei-Gu, curious, asked Yue Lao who his future wife would be, and Yue Lao pointed towards a blind woman nearby, holding a three year old girl, and replied "That little girl will be your future wife".
Wei-Gu, not believing what he said, ordered his servant to kill the young girl. Years later, Wei-Gu was arranged to marry the beautiful daughter of a high official. On their wedding night, Wei-Gu noticed the scar she had between her eyebrows and after inquiring her, the woman replied that she had been attacked the City of Song when she was three years old, and Wei-Gu realizes that she was the girl that he had ordered to be killed.
Yao wasn't sure if the moral of the story was also not hurt other people incase they come back into your life, but it was a cute tale, and the idea of having someone in the world that you were meant to marry made him feel slightly more desirable than he had been made to feel growing up.
"Muimui!" A boy's voice unlike Siu-Keung's voice called, interrupting their conversation, thought it was a bit low and quieter than how Mei-Lin would yell. "Did you take my egg tarts?"
"Great, Ergo is back," Mei-Lin grumbled, narrowing her eyes towards the door as footsteps ran down the hallway to their room.
A head of shaggy dark brown hair appeared and Yao instantly knew that it was Siu-Chun who Mei-Lin referees to as Ergo, yet, he was again confounded by the person he saw.
There were some things recognizable about Siu-Chun- namely, his unnaturally thick eyebrows and how his nose was big and long (either of which was not found in their family), thought it's not to say he was an ugly boy. Quite the contrary- he looked much better than how Yao looked at that age.
"Biugo," Siu-Chun noted, straightening himself a bit and avoiding his gaze slightly, as if unsure how to go about what he wanted to say. He then looked directly at Mei-Lin, frowning, "Why are you annoying Biugo?"
"I'm not annoying him," Mei-Lin replied, and Siu-Chun glared at the sole egg tart on the plate, before noticing the tart in Yao's and. "We were just talking."
"About what?" Siu-Chun asked, taking long strides towards the egg tart. He looked like he wanted to say something concerning his missing tarts, but held back, maybe due to Yao's presence.
"Just about things that you wouldn't be interested in," Mei-Lin huffed, the presence of her older brother making it hard to talk openly about anything. "I thought you were going to help Ahma out with the customers?"
"Daigo's already there," Siu-Chun replies, plucking the tart quickly just as Mei-Lin was reaching for it. "I'll just get in the way. So I thought that I'd check on Biugo."
"You're just lazy!" Mei-Lin exclaimed, and Siu-Chun idly walked to the end of the bed.
"Biugo, may I sit here?" Siu-Chun ignored his sister's comment, and Yao gestured for him to sit down.
"Ughhh are you going to stay here?" Mei-Lin snapped and Siu-Chun smirked.
"Why? Are you two talking about something that would get you in trouble?"
"Yao Biu, does he really have to stay here?"
"He doesn't have to, but he can if he wants to," Yao finally spoke up in their sibling fight, and Mei-Lin groaned loudly.
"I want to stay and talk," Siu-Chun replied, shifting to make himself comfortably. "I haven't seen him in a since I was five."
"Do you still remember me?" Yao asked, and Siu-Chun nodded, his bangs bobbing slightly.
"Somewhat. I only remember a bit from our time at Jiuqiu, but I do remember you. Mei-Lin, on the other hand, didn't even know who are you are," Siu-Chun scoffed slightly, and Yao silently watched trying to hide his amusement at their bantering. He had always wanted a sibling, but his mother was quite old when she had him, so the chances of another child in the family was incredibly slim from the get go.
Listening as Mei-Lin talked back and Siu-Chun replying with snarky comments made him feel warm inside, and their inclusion of him in their conversation only deepened the warmth that was filling what he thought was his empty heart.
He had lost everything. He could never return to his village, to his small house with a thatched roof, to his mother and father. Home was across a body of ocean that he will never see again.
But at that moment, with Mei-Lin and Siu-Chun, and later when Chun-Yi and Siu-Keung came up to check on him, he felt like he was in the safety that he had thought he would never feel again.
This will be his home from now on.
TERMS:
*I looked through a lot of sources to figure out some of these terms in Cantonese, so if you think it should be a different word, then please comment, it would help me greatly Q-Q
Ahma - another way of saying Mom
Yijerng - maternal younger sister's husband (uncle)
Gaje - Elder sister
Biugo - maternal older male cousin. Sometimes if you're referring to someone in your family, you might use their name and then part of the word (thus Yao Biu), but it's considered disrespectful for younger people to refer to their elders this way.
Muimui- younger sister
Daigo - older brother
Ergo - older brother. 'Er' means two, and since Siu-Chun is the second eldest, I think that Mei-Lin would call him that
Ah-Chun - The prefix 'Ah' is used before the second given name as a nickname, and is one that parents would usually use for their children
Lin-Lin - Again, another way of making a nickname by repeating the second given name
NOTES:
A few words on the funeral-
When researching about burial rituals in China, I found that the second most popular ritual in the Cantonese parts (including Hong Kong) is the Taoism ritual, which is also likely common in village parts. I'll try to explain the symbolism, but really this article that I used covers the funeral extremely well lifestyle/article/2102955/hong-kongs-taoist-funerals-superstition-symbolism-and-how-stop-your-soul
The casket Yao's mother was found in is a traditional Chinese casket (thought now Western caskets are more common, I'm sure the tradition has stuck back then). The wreaths were made of white flowers specifically, because in Chinese culture, white is the colour used for mourning (and those are the common symbolic flowers). The ritual with the 9 tiles (which is the symbol of the 9 levels of hell) breaking is supposed to represent the opening of the gates of hell to free the soul, and is done by a priest who would use a sword made of peach wood. The music that is heard with the instruments (like the erhu) are specific to Taoistic rituals to accompany another priest who would be chanting scriptures in the background.
Mid-Autumn Festival-
This is a harvest festival that usually happens during the fall (on the 15th day of the 8th month with a full moon, following the lunar calendar), with roots of worshiping the moon, thanksgiving, and family gathering
A/N:
Took me a long time to find sources for these terms and putting the dream sequence together, but I'm really happy with how it turned out! Thank you guys for leaving a review on the previous chapters, I'm glad that people are interested in this tale and I hope you liked this one ^_^
