Wan-chun was eight years old when she was married into the Chou household. It was in Peiping in the early republican days. She remembered it as a dream.
Mother changed her into a red silk dress, and everybody helped with her make-up.
When the veil was lowered, mother hugged her and said between her tears:
"Be a good girl. Serve your in-laws well and do as they tell you."
Wan-chun was silent. She was a doll, waiting for the sedan chair. When the chair was lifted, firecrackers were set off and the band struck up. Then she was overcome by fear and panic. Grasping the sedan poles hard, she let out a long shriek and cried until her mother's face appeared at the sedan's screened door.
"Don't cry any more," mother said softly. "People will like you when you get there. Don't spoil your paint with your tears."
The wedding parade began. Wan-chun sobbed all the way to the Chous' gate. There she was helped out and, to an accompaniment of stares and whispers from onlookers, was led into the big house.
Many years later she could still recall the bright redness of the carpet. She knelt on it, bowing to heaven and earth together with a handsome boy of 13. But soon she learned that the boy was not to be her husband. He was Po-chien's younger brother, Chung-kang, substituting for Po-chien, who was sick in bed. The wedding ceremony was held anyway. Then Po-chien began to recover. Wan-chun was considered a lucky star.
That first day in the new house lived in her heart for always. She was taken around to make her obeisances to the in-laws and the guests. The elaborate coronet grew heavier and heavier on her head; she was tense and nervous. She wanted her mother. Instead, she was shown into a small bedroom, where she sat sobbing as some middle-aged women tried to soothe her with candies and cake.
A boy of about her age wriggled through the women and stood staring at Wan-chun. His look made Wan-chun forget to cry. The tails of his long silk robe were tucked in his trousers. His face was dirty and his clothes were covered with mud.
"So there you are, Third Master!" a woman said. "Your mother was looking all over for you. Now, say your greetings to your sister-in-law."
The boy hesitated, then said, "Don't cry. I'll get some crickets for you." Everybody laughed, and the boy quietly stole away.
He was Shu-hao, Po-chien’s youngest brother, who was older than Wan-chun by a month and three days.
Wan-chun had to be brave and get acquainted with new faces and new things. At night she pulled the bedclothes over her head and sobbed until she fell asleep. But it didn't take her long to see that everybody in the house was kind. Mrs. Chou treated her like a daughter. Po-chien's younger brothers were on their best behavior. They got along very well, watching crickets fight, feeding fish and birds, and playing in the garden.
A month later, Wan-chun saw her husband for the first time. His room was clean, tidy and full of books. A vase of chrysanthemums sat on a writing desk. Mrs. Chou led Wan-chun to the large sandalwood bed where a boy of 18 was reclining. Wan-chun couldn't raise her head. Mrs. Chou patted her shoulder and whispered, "This is your Chien-ko (Chien brother). Talk to him." Then she was gone.
Wan-chun didn't know what to say. The room was quiet for a long time. Then Po-chien lifted her chin with his hand. Wan-chun saw a lean but warm face. The shining eyes over his straight nose showed admiration and surprise. Wan-chun was a pretty girl.
"How old are you?" he asked
"Eight," Wan-chun answered timidly.
"Eight, only eight," Po-chien said, as if to himself. "You would be a very young widow if I died now." He shook his head.
"Are you studying?" he asked.
"Father taught me The 1,000-Character Primer and The Trimetrical Classic," she answered. "And I have also read The Stories of Heroic Women."
"That's good," he said. "Now you can study with Chung-kang and Shu-hao. Let their tutor, Mr. Tseng, teach you The 1,000 Verses and The 300 Poems." The ice was broken.
From that day on, Wan-chun visited Po-chien every evening. He told her stories and reviewed her lessons. She began to like her new life. The days passed quickly.
One afternoon Wan-chun was in her room reciting a poem. Po-chien wasn't pleased if she didn't memorize well.
A shadow brushed the wall. Shu-hao's head was raised above the window sill. "Wan-mei, come out!" he said excitedly. "I've got two big crickets, and they are fighting real good."
Wan-chun was still a baby. Po-chien's brothers, both older than Wan-chun, didn't want to call her Ta-shou (big sister-in-law). So they called her Wan-mei (younger sister Wan). The servants addressed her as "Miss Wan" or simply "Miss". There was no other girl in the house.
Wan-chun opened the door. Shu-hao took her hand and they ran through the moon gate and into the garden. Chung-kang was crouching near the fish pond, teasing a pair of crickets in a cage. "They're tired; they are making friends," Chung-kang said. He had thick eyebrows, unlike his brothers. The eyes were the Chous' trademark: big, black, and shining. He had a broad forehead. His mouth, a bit too big, was open most of the time in laughter.
"Never heard that crickets would make friends." It was Shu-hao who spoke. The two brown creatures were apart, each in a corner, showing no signs of resuming their fight. Shouting and poking did little to move them. Shu-hao, impatient, stood up and kicked the cage away. "You useless things," he said, and went running off for fresh crickets.
Wan-chun also stood up, laughing. "Don't move!" Chung-kang said. A black butterfly had settled on her shoulder. Chung-kang stole near, and was about to grab the butterfly, when... "I've got it; I've got another cricket," shouted third brother as he rushed up.
Wan-chun stamped her foot in vexation. "It's all your fault. You scared the butterfly away. Who wants your crickets? Ugly and no fun at all."
The remark was a shock to Shu-hao. His eyes grew bigger, then dropped. "So you don't like crickets," he said. "I thought you liked them, so I was catching them for you. I don't like them either."
After a while, he asked, "Wan-mei, you are my oldest brother's wife, aren't you?"
Wan-chun blushed. Shu-hao pulled her sleeve and said, "Mother said we can't be with you when you grow up, because you are my brother's wife. Wan-mei, will you be my wife, too, when I'm big?"
"Silly!" said Shu-hao's 13-year-old brother, laughing.
A year went by. Po-chien was completely recovered. He could be seen in the garden with a book all day long. Once he approached the fish pond and heard Chung-kang's voice. He and Wan-chun were playing chess on the lawn. Po-chien could see that the girl was losing. But Chung-kang suddenly made a wrong move.
"Oh, damn it!" Chung-kang shouted. "I made a mistake. Forget it, will you?"
"No, no!" Wan-chun waved her hands in excitement. "You can't take it back once you move."
"All right, all right, have it your own way," Chung-kang said. But Po-chien could see that his brother was really glad to lose. For a boy of 14, Chung-kang was precocious about little girls.
"Ahem!" Po-chien cleared his throat. The children raised their faces. "Oh, it's you," Chung-kang said. "Chien-ko," said Wan-chun, her voice sweet and innocent, "I just won."
"Yes, I know; I was watching," Po-chien said with a smile. "How about another game?" he asked.
"No, I want a story." Wan-chun stood up and took his hand. Chung-kang waved at Po-chien and left. He had to write a composition, he said.
Po-chien led Wan-chun farther into the garden. "Let's see if you can recite that poem, you were learning," he said as they walked among the flowers.
"My hair had hardly covered my forehead." She began to recite "A Song of Chang-kan" by Li Po.
"I was picking flowers, playing by my door,
When you, my lover, on a bamboo horse,
Came trotting in circles and throwing green plums.
We lived near together on a lane in Chang-kan,
Both of us young and happy-hearted .... At fourteen I became your wife, So bashful that I dared not smile ... "
Suddenly she stopped. "Forget the lines?" Po-chien asked. "No, no," she shook her head. She was watching Shu-hao running toward them astride a bamboo stick, holding a big kite in one hand and imitating the clatter of hoofs as he hopped.
"Wan-mei," he shouted from afar. "You want the kite or the bamboo horse?"
Wan-chun's mouth was open. Po-chien looked blank.
Wan-chun looked at herself in the mirror. Since childhood she had been aware she was pretty. But the image before her was almost that of a stranger. Her crescent eyebrows, luminous eyes, rosebud lips, and perfect figure all pointed to one fact: she had grown up. She was 16, and she had just learned from the maid that Mrs. Chou was about to round out the chamber for her and Po-chien. That meant, the marriage was to be consummated. The idea made her nervous. She didn't know why but she didn't want to grow up.
When Wan-chun made her regular morning call on Mrs. Chou that day, the old woman said: "Wan-chun, you are 16 and Po-chien is more than old enough to father a few babies. So I am going to invite some guests to a dinner in a month or so, and let you and Po-chien round out your chamber."
Mrs. Chou went on and on for a good half an hour. Wan-chun only dropped her head, ears burning. When she was finally excused, she found Po-chien waiting for her in the corridor. She wanted to run but Po-chien caught her hand. "You're not trying to run away from me again, are you?" demanded Po-chien. He tried to hold her face with his hands. "No, please, this is not the place," Wan-chun cried.
"What does it matter?" Po-chien asked. "We are man and wife, aren't we?" He caressed her and kissed her forehead. Wan-chun wanted to get away but her hands were firmly clasped in his.
"Stand still and let me tell you something," Po-chien said. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm the one who should be afraid. You have such power over me. All my happiness depends on you. You'll be mine soon; then you won't be able to run away from me."
Wan-chun walked quickly as she left Po-chien. She was almost running when she reached the corner of the corridor. Then she spotted Chung-kang standing alone under a tree in the garden. He must have seen her with Po-chien. She tried to run on, but Chung-kang rushed up and grasped her hand. "Come with me into the garden. I want to ask you something." She could only follow him to the pond.
They stood there for a long time, speaking not a word. Finally Chung-kang braced himself up, held up his clasped hands, and made a bow. "Congratulations, Wan-mei! I wish you a happy married life with Po-chien!" The tone was harsh and the words carried a sting.
Wan-chun turned away and said, almost inaudibly, "Congratulations to you, too. Kang-ko, for mother told me that your wedding will be soon."
Chung-kang held her hands and forced her to face him. "Really?" he asked.
"Of course, it's true."
"But ... " Chung-kang went on haltingly, "I married you eight years ago." Wan-chun was startled. She couldn't believe her ears. "What are you talking about?"
His tone was cold and flat when he said, "Eight years ago I bowed to heaven and earth with a girl"
"You, you are talking nonsense," Wan-chun said.
"Nonsense?" Chung-kang put more strength into his grip. "Wan-chun, haven't you realized ... or have you been pretending ignorance about your wedding? Do you think you were married to my brother?"
"There's nothing I don't understand, and I don't have to pretend anything," she said.
"You know very well what's in your heart," Chung-kang said. "You know I love you. You know I want you, and Po-chien knows that, too. Rounding out the chamber? You and him? Impossible! You married me eight years ago, not my brother. I'm going to tell father and mother that I want you. You want me, too, don't you?"
"Oh, you don't know what you are talking about," Wan-chun said. "I'm your brother's wife, no matter what you say."
"Then you love him, and you want to marry him?"
"I don't know," Wan-chun said. "Didn't I marry him eight years ago?"
"No, the times are different now. People are talking of freedom to love. We can run away and build our own home."
"Let me go," Wan-chun pleaded. "People may see us."
Abruptly and violently he pulled her to him, and pressed his fiery lips on hers. "I want you, Wan-chun," he whispered.
Wan-chun stepped back and then ran to her room. She locked the door and stood panting. She closed her eyes and heard her heart thumping. The warmth of Chung-kang's lips was still on hers.
"What's the matter, Wan-mei?" Shu-hao asked. He was sitting 'beside her desk.
"Oh, you." She sighed and shook her head. "Nothing, just a headache." She sat down. On her desk she saw seven or eight cages of crickets and cicadas. Her eyes moved from the insects to Shu-haa's face. What was the boy up to? He hadn't played with insects for years. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Shu-hao was older, but she had always treated him like a younger brother, a silly little brother.
"I heard that you and eldest brother will soon be together," he said. "I know that you'll belong to Po-chien alone, and won't play with us any more after that. I just came to give you these little things. I hope you will still remember the days we spent together."
He stood up and so did Wan-chun. She saw his eyes were red. Otherwise he was not much different from the boy she saw on her wedding day, the boy who was going to catch crickets to comfort her. "Shu-hao, no matter what happens, I'll still be the same Wan-chun to you," she said.
"But things will be different." Shu-hao shook his head. "I don't think it's fair. We grew up together, 'Studied and played together." Wan-chun buried her face in her hands as he left.
The 15th day of the eighth moon, the Mid-Autumn Festival, had been set as the date of consummation of the marriage. There was still a month to go. Mrs. Chou had invited dressmakers to the house to make new clothes for Wan-chun. Workers were busy painting and redecorating the wedding chamber. Treasured scrolls were taken out and hung around the house. Wan-chun hid herself in her room, fearful to meet the boys.
Shu-hao seemed to have gone mad. Each day he brought a cage of insects to her. Once he exhausted himself chasing a butterfly. Finally, Wan-chun asked him to stop bringing gifts. "Please," she urged as he turned to go. Her heart ached. "Please, don't blame me, don't hate me, don't suspect me," she said. But Shu-hao was no longer there.
"Who is blaming you, hating you, and suspecting you?" It was Po-chien standing at the doorway. Wan-chun turned red. She had no idea how long he had been there. She wanted to be alone, but Po-chien blocked her way. He lifted her face with both his hands. His smile was gone; he was searching for an answer. "Tell me what's wrong."
She shook her head and insisted that nothing was the matter.
"Is it ... " Po-chien started, then bit his lip..."Is it because you don't want to marry me?"
"No, no, no such thing," said Wan-chun, shaking her head violently.
"That settles it," Po-chien said. "I've waited for such a long time. I'll be a good husband to you, so don't worry." Wan-chun nodded. Po-chien raised her face and passed his hand softly over her cheek. He wanted to embrace her.
"Now, isn't that a little too much before the day you get together?" It was Chung-kang, Po-chien turned and answered his brother with a laugh. Wan-chun wanted to run into her room, but Chung-kang stepped in front of her. "Not even a word of greeting, when you are not yet my big sister-in- law?" His eyes were fierce and there was a sneer in his voice.
"Chung-kang, don't be a fool," Po-chien said. "Let her go!"
Chung-kang turned to Po-chien. "Don't worry. I won't hurt her."
"What's eating you? You don't sound happy."
Po-chien's words made Chung-kang explode. "Do I have to be happy?" he said. "Eight years ago I married her, and now you are going to be with her. Is Wan-chun your wife or mine?"
"What do you mean?" Po-chien was angry now.
"You think you're the only one who loves Wan-chun?" said Chung-kang. "You are wrong. I love Wan-chun, and she loves me. I married her, and I should be the one to be with her."
"You love her?" Po-chien was trembling.
"And she loves you?" Turning to Wan-chun, he asked, "Is that true?"
Wan-chun shuddered. Chung-kang was holding her arm, his eyes riveted on her, passionate and insistent. His voice was husky. "Go on, tell him! Tell him that you love me."
She tried to free herself, but Chung-kang only held her more tightly. "Say it Wan-chun. Tell him the truth."
Po-chien tried to pull him away from Wan-chun. "Don't threaten her! Let her go!" be shouted. Chung-kang relaxed his grip but his eyes were still on Wan-chun. "You love me, Wan-chun, don't you?" he insisted.
Po-chien asked the question he didn't want to. "What is this all about, Wan-chun; who is it that you love?" Wan-chun was sobbing. Now she cried, "I don't know, I don't know. Leave me alone!"
She ran into her room and fell on the bed. She cried until she heard the call of a caged cicada. Shu-hao's face floated before her eyes.
Wan-chun was summoned that night. The three brothers were there and the elder Chous.
"Tell us what is going on," Mrs. Chou said. Wan-chun could find no words.
The old man spoke. "Wan-chun," he said, "you came to us as the wife of our eldest son. What is this business of you and second son? We can't allow such things. You know that."
"I ... " I haven't ... " Wan-chun couldn't finish her sentences. She didn't know what to say.
"Wan-chun!" It was Mrs. Chou. "I have brought you up like my own daughter. Now both my first and second sons say they want you."
"Me, too!" A voice interrupted Mrs. Chou. The voice was Shu-hao's but Mrs. Chou thought she was wrong. "What did you say, Shu-hao?" she asked.
"Mother, none of you knows it is I Wan-chun really likes," said Shu-hao. "We grew up together and I've thought only of her for a long time. Ask her! Besides, we are of the same age; we are the best match."
"Impossible!" shouted the old man. "You three children must be out of your minds."
"Father," said Po-chien, "let's stick to the rules: whoever she was meant for shall marry her."
"If we are to stick to the rules, I was the one who went through the wedding," Chung-kang said.
Mrs. Chou waved her hands. "I should be blamed for letting you grow up together. But what's done is done. Besides, the times are different now. Maybe we ought to let Wan-chun make the decision. You choose, Wan-chun."
Wan-chun's head was bowed; she could not say a word.
"Well what do you say?" said Mrs. Chou.
"Wan-chun," said Po-chien, "stop being bashful and tell us your choice."
Shu-hao said, "Tell them that we get along best."
Shut up, and let her speak," said Chung-kang.
The old man pounded the table. "Ridiculous! I've never heard of such a thing."
"We shouldn't lose our tempers," said Mrs. Chou. "Name your choice, Wan-chun. We're waiting."
"Don't force me," cried Wan-chun. "I just don't know, I just don't...
"What?" The old man was on his feet.
"You made this mess and now you don't know who you want."
"I really don't know." Wan-chun burst out crying. "I really don't."
"Father, perhaps we should give her some time to think it over." It was Po-chien.
"All right, I give you three days," the old man said. "But if you can't make up your mind then, we may have to let you go back to your parents. Perhaps we don't have the luck to have you as a daughter-in-law." He emphasized the word "luck".
Chung-kang was the first to knock at her door that night. "Tell me, who you love," he urged. "I don't know," she said.
"I'll make you know." He pulled her into his arms. Wan-chun struggled, but Chung-kang pressed her against him. "I must have you, I must," he said. "If I can't have you, I'll ... "
The door was kicked open. "Let her go, you beast," Po-chien shouted as he pulled at Chung-kang.
"If I am a beast, what are you?" Chung-kang glared at Po-chien. "And what are you here for?" he added.
"She is my wife," Po-chien said. "I'm warning you. Leave her alone!"
"Don't day-dream," Chung-kang retorted. "She'll never be yours."
Wan-chun trembled in a corner as the two brothers exchanged angry words. She remained there after they left. She thought of the way Po-chien looked at her. "My happiness is in your hands," he said once. Wan-chun felt weak. It was not just Po-chien's happiness. The fate of the whole family seemed to hinge on her.
Not much later, she heard a knock. Afraid to open the door, she called, "Who is it?" Shu-hao's voice said, "It's I."
"Please go away," she said. "Come tomorrow if you have something to say." Her voice was soft; she wanted to hurt nobody.
There was no answer from Shu-hao. He must have gone, she thought. But a long while later, she heard sobbing just outside the door. She jumped up from her chair and opened the door. Shu-hao was still there in the dark.
"I know you wouldn't choose me," Shu-hao said. "You don't like me; you just like them." The next moment, Shu-hao was inside the room, grabbing up the cages on the desk. Then he was gone.
Wan-chun locked the door and gazed into the darkness outside her bedroom. The faces of the three brothers appeared before her, singly and in combination. "Oh, God, help me," she cried in her heart. She liked all of the brothers; she didn't want to make any of them suffer. And yet two would be unhappy if she were to choose one. She looked into the mirror at a face so pale yet still so beautiful. "I must do something," she said to herself.
The thought made her shudder, but she couldn't free herself from it. The room whirled and her heart beat faster and faster. She stood up, sweat on her forehead, her legs cold. She stood for a long time. Finally she opened a drawer. She found a cord and climbed on a chair. It took her a long time to get ready for her hands trembled all the while. She kicked the chair away. In that last moment she thought she saw a shadow outside the window.
She must have been dreaming, she thought. A hundred voices were calling to her. People were rubbing and slapping her hands and feet. She saw Shu-hao's swollen face, Chung-kang's despairing eyes, and Po-chien's colorless lips.
Wan-chun knew she hadn't died. Everybody in the room came to life. "She's awake," someone shouted. "She'll be all right," said someone else.
Mrs. Chou, sitting beside her, said, "Why did you have to do that? I didn't force you to do anything. Why did you do that?…" She repeated the phrase endlessly.
Wan-chun couldn't stop her tears. She buried her face in the pillow and sobbed. "Don't cry; it won't help," Mrs. Chou said. She told her sons to say something to Wan-chun. None of them spoke. She scolded the servants for not keeping an eye on Wan-chun. Then she left Wan-chun to her sons.
Po-chien spoke first. "Don't you ever do such a thing again. If I hadn't gone back to your room...I won't hate you, even if you don't want me, but don't try such a thing again."
Chung-kang said it was his fault. "If I hadn't brought up the question, nothing would have happened." He struck his head with his hand to show he was truly sorry. "I'll never question your marriage with my brother, and I hope you will be happy together."
Shu-hao was silent. His brothers wanted him to speak but he only looked blank. Then, as if they could read each other's mind, Wan-chun and Shu-hao both burst out crying. The innocent children weeping together! The sight made Po-chien recall how Wan-chun had stopped between the lines of Li Po's poem when she saw Shu-hao riding a bamboo horse. The poem, too, had to do with a bamboo horse. Was it a mere coincidence? Po-chien sighed and said to his youngest brother, "Shu-hao, l'll leave Wan-chun to you. Take good care of her."
Early next morning both Po-chien and Chung-kang were gone. Chung-kang left a note saying he wished Po-chien many happy returns with Wan-chun. He added that he was going to Canton to enter the military academy. Po-chien left a note asking his parents to let Shu-hao take care of Wan-chun.
The house was in turmoil for days. Mrs. Chou cried most of the time, and wouldn't let Shu-hao out of her sight, for the boy insisted that he would go and find his brothers. All attempts to locate the two sons failed. The old man's temper turned worse. Wan-chun wanted to die, but she was watched all the time.
A month passed. The old man was now resigned to the idea that boys would make their own lives. But Mrs. Chou's tears hadn't dried. Shu-hao sighed his days away. Wan-chun's tears flowed as long as there were tears.
Half a year passed. Mrs. Chou began to think seriously about Po-chien's proposal to let Shu-hao marry Wan-chun. Shu-hao's attitude was firm, however. "Wan-chun was meant for my eldest brother," he said. "If we were to go back to the wedding ceremony, she would be second brother's bride. I can never rightfully take her as my wife."
Wan-chun also declined. "I can never marry Shu-hao unless both his brothers marry," she said. "I can't do such a thing behind their backs."
Shu-hao eventually left the house, saying he would not return unless he could find his brothers.
Spring was gone and autumn came. Years flew past like the waters of the river. The aged died and the young grew old. A lonely woman spent her days looking into the distance. She was Wan-chun, who once had been loved by three men only to be rewarded with this vast loneliness. Mr. and Mrs. Chou had been dead for years. She was alone in the house except for a servant. She belonged to the Chou household because she was married into it, although she never really had a husband.
"Miss, the wind is strong." The elderly maid patted her shoulder. "Let's get inside," she urged.
"It's all right. Let me stay out here a while."
Under the overcast autumn sky, the wind was sweeping the fallen leaves. Wan-chun rested her head against a pillar. Before her was the garden where Po-chien had helped her recite poems. Yonder was the hillock where she and Shu-hao had dug for crickets. She remembered how once Chung-kang had tended her scraped knee. Tears were in her eyes. Dusk was corning. A gust of wind sent more leaves down from big elm. She bent over and picked one up. Without knowing, she was humming a poem.
"Yellow leaves fall without wind;
Autumn clouds are low without rain.
Heaven, too, would age if it could pain.
Shake your head but sorrow goes not,
Old days, like dreams, torment the heart;
Nowhere to go in search of the lost."
—translated by Tommy Lee