chapter 1

chapter 1

When I was six, my cousin was a terrible little menace. He insisted on dragging me to the pond so we could set off firecrackers in a pile of dung.

We got filth all over the new cloak Mother had made for me. Afraid we would be beaten when we went home, my cousin took me to the edge of the pond to wash it.

But the bank was slippery, and our winter clothes were heavy. One wrong step sent both of us tumbling into the water.

That day, two half-grown children nearly drowned in the lotus pond. Luckily, an older boy happened to pass by and pulled us both out.

My cousin was strong. His mother thrashed him after they got home, then made him swallow two bowls of pitch-black medicine. By the next morning, he was bounding about as if nothing had happened.

I was not so fortunate. I burned with fever for three days after the accident and lay unconscious for half a month.

The physician said I probably would not survive the winter.

Grandfather’s eyes turned red when he heard. Without a word, he even had a little coffin made for me.

My cousin, who had never feared anything in his life, saw the coffin in the courtyard and sobbed so hard that grief gave him a fever for an entire night.

The next day, he pulled the gold ingots he had saved from years of New Year’s gifts out from under his bed and begged Grandfather to put gold trim on my coffin.

“A-Fu’s coffin has to be the prettiest one there is,” he said.

The gold trim had not even been finished when he crawled into my coffin himself, sniffling and sobbing as he pleaded with Grandfather.

“Grandfather, a real man takes responsibility for what he’s done. If I hadn’t taken her to blow up dung, Little Sister wouldn’t have fallen in the water.”

“Tell the King of Hell not to let A-Fu die. Let me die instead.”

“And if he insists on taking A-Fu, tell him to take me with her.”

“A-Fu is silly. If she dies all alone, people will bully her…”

By then, the entire household had gathered around my little coffin.

My aunt was furious. She hauled my cousin out and gave him a vicious beating. But he refused to admit defeat. The moment she finished, he clutched his bottom and climbed right back in.

He climbed in. She dragged him out and beat him. Over and over they went.

Wrapped in a little quilt, I stood behind the crowd. When I saw my cousin’s battered, swollen face, I pushed my way through and threw my tiny body in front of him.

My heart ached so badly that I burst into tears.

“Auntie, don’t hit Cousin.”

“It hurts…”

My cousin froze.

And so, in the middle of that snowy day, two little children held each other and wailed at the tops of their lungs.

Perhaps my cousin’s sincerity moved the King of Hell. Or perhaps all his crying simply annoyed the King of Hell beyond endurance.

After I woke, I spent another half month recovering, then my health returned.

Only, from that day on, I became a little slow.

I could no longer recite all the poems our teacher taught us. I could not even keep track of my own New Year’s money.

The physician said the fever had left me simple-minded.

In other words, I had become a fool.

I was miserable for a long time. To cheer me up, my cousin deliberately let his nose run, drooled, crossed his eyes, and showed me what a fool looked like.

With a perfectly solemn face, he declared, “This is what a fool looks like!”

I thought it over carefully, then said in disgust, “I don’t look like that at all!”

My cousin grinned. “Exactly. Our A-Fu isn’t a fool.”

“Our A-Fu is only a little slow to react and a little forgetful. In my eyes, you’re still the cleverest girl in the world.”

I believed him with all my heart.

From then on, I was certain that I was merely a little slow and a little forgetful.

I was not a foolish girl.

I was just as pretty, clever, and lovable as every other healthy young lady.