Chapter 3
Once Shen Jibai brought home the stool and incense, Su Wanqing officially started work.
I stayed up to make her two well-fitting coarse-cloth smocks, then cut two pieces of fine cotton for face coverings.
She changed, covered the lower half of her face so that only her clear eyes showed, and sat on the elmwood stool beside the pigpen with her pipa in her arms.
With a sweep of her fingers, its clear, cool notes floated away on the wind.
The pigs, which had been grunting and rooting through their feed, gradually quieted. Their ears swayed lazily, and even their eating seemed more refined.
Shen Jibai and I leaned over the fence to watch.
He nudged me with his elbow, wearing the smug look of someone expecting praise.
“Look, Qingru! I told you playing music for pigs would work!”
Without taking my eyes off Su Wanqing, I murmured my agreement.
“Yes. Very good.”
“Hey, why aren’t you praising me?” Shen Jibai sounded a little hurt.
“This is big business! I mentioned it at the market yesterday, and seven or eight families have already placed orders. Even Yuelai Restaurant sent someone to ask about buying our pigs regularly, for dishes to serve with wine!”
“I know. You’re the best.”
I gave his arm an absent pat, already walking toward Su Wanqing.
At the end of the piece, she set down her pipa. The cold had turned her fingertips a little red.
I hurried over, my eyes bright with honest admiration.
“Miss Wanqing, you play so beautifully! I’ve never heard anything so moving in my life.”
“No wonder the ancients spoke of music lingering among the rafters. Now I finally know what they meant.”
I meant every word. There was nothing polite or empty about it.
Su Wanqing clearly hadn’t expected such direct praise. Her cheeks flushed all the way to the tips of her ears.
She lowered her head, twisting the edge of her clothes. Her voice was barely audible.
“You’re too kind, Sister. It’s only a trifling skill… I’m glad it can be useful.”
[Our girl really knows how to make someone feel appreciated!]
[Why are you being so nice to the courtesan? Watch out. When she steals your man, it’ll be too late to cry!]
I led her toward the house, wrapping her icy hand in mine.
“You’ve been playing for ages. Your hands must be frozen. I’ve made ginger and jujube tea. Come in and have a bowl to warm up.”
Her hand trembled slightly, but she didn’t pull away.
The black boar in our pen was wild-tempered. He often made trouble in the middle of the night, banging against the boards with great thuds and losing a worrying amount of weight.
Shen Jibai had tried several times to settle him, without success. He was so worried he could barely eat.
That night, the black pig started up again, squealing loudly enough for half the village to hear.
When I put on a coat and got up, I saw Shen Jibai pulling Su Wanqing toward the pigpen.
She had a coat draped around her, her hair loosely pinned up and a bamboo flute clutched in her hand. She looked bewildered as he brought her to the fence.
“Miss Wanqing, could you play something bright and clear? They say a flute has a bright sound. Maybe it’ll calm him down. Give it a try!”
With no other option, Su Wanqing raised the flute and began to play.
Its clear notes spread through the night.
Strange as it was, the black pig, which had looked ready to overturn the fence, really did settle down. He gave a couple of grunts, lay down in the straw, and stayed there.
Shen Jibai was delighted and immediately showered Su Wanqing with praise.
She lowered her head shyly, then invited him into the main room for a cup of hot tea to warm up.
I watched from the bedroom doorway without going over.
What I hadn’t expected was that, not long after I got up the next morning, frantic comments would stream before my eyes:
[Stop doing your hair! Go check the room next door! The male lead and the courtesan slept together!]