Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio 12

Lin Lai was well aware that, from the perspective of passersby, she must look like a lunatic talking to herself. But as she always told herself: as long as I don’t feel awkward, then awkwardness cannot catch up to me.

So, when confronted with the curious stares of the onlookers, Lin Lai remained completely unperturbed, to the point that it was the bystanders who ended up shuffling away in embarrassment.

She covertly made a victory sign before turning to look at A-Liang, who still appeared as a young child. Her lightheartedness faded at once. “Let me take you to the Li family.”

At her words, A-Liang immediately tried to kneel in thanks, but Lin Lai quickly pulled him up. She then inquired with a constable for Li Hua’s address and escorted A-Liang all the way there herself.

A-Liang had said he was fated to meet the Li family, and sure enough, while no one else could see him, Li Hua could vaguely make out his presence.

Lin Lai lingered outside the courtyard for a while, only leaving after seeing Li Hua was willing to take in A-Liang in gratitude.

Yet Lin Lai felt a pang in her heart, mostly because the story had reminded her of her own situation. When she returned to the temporary residence where her family was staying, she found herself wanting to confide in someone, but realized there was no one she could talk to about this. Once again, she thought of her dear friend Jie Fu. That evening, she took up her letter paper to write to him, sending her message by post.

She was in the midst of writing when she heard her maid outside exclaim in surprise. Before she could set down her brush, she heard the flutter of wings, and a magnificent, dazzling bird flew in.

But to Lin Lai’s eyes, it was clearly a wooden bird. She wondered who could possess such extraordinary craftsmanship, and just as she was marveling, the wooden bird, as if targeting her, swooped straight toward her, claws extended as if to snatch her up.

Lin Lai drew her flexible sword in a flash and pinned the bird down.

The wooden creature struggled feebly for a moment before falling still.

Peach Moon, her maid, breathed a sigh of relief, then worried aloud, “Miss, did you just kill a divine bird?”

Lin Lai didn’t answer immediately, because there was still noise outside. She drew her sword and led Peach Moon out the door. There, amidst drifting clouds, stood a beautiful woman in palace robes atop the cloud. Not noticing the bird’s absence, she seemed unsuspecting. But seeing not only the maids and matrons below, but also many guards gathering from all directions, she hurriedly announced, “You mortals have no need for alarm. I am an attendant from the Celestial Palace. Your young mistress is in fact the seventh daughter of the Queen Mother of the West, banished to the mortal world for breaking heavenly rules out of longing for the mundane. Now, the Queen Mother, overcome with longing for her daughter, has sent me to fetch her back to the Celestial Palace for a reunion, and she will be returned shortly.”

The scene was so fantastical that all those gathered below stood stupefied.

Lin Lai was speechless.

She was tired—she didn’t want to find herself embroiled in another situation that even the Yellow River couldn’t wash clean, especially not before her father. So, while everyone’s attention was fixed on the so-called celestial attendant and her cloud, Lin Lai used the calligraphy speed she’d honed over the years to quickly inscribe two talismans: “Dispel the Clouds, Reveal the Sun” and “Restore the Clouded Mirror.”

With the talismans activated, the illusions before everyone’s eyes vanished—there was no floating cloud, only a piece of paper cut into the shape of one.

The magic sustaining the illusion collapsed, and the palace-robed woman gave a startled cry as she fell to the ground.

Now, everyone could see she’d only been hovering three feet above the ground—not floating in the sky at all.

For a moment, the crowd exchanged baffled glances.

At that moment, Master Lin arrived. Upon seeing the scene, he wasted no time in having his guards seize the suspicious palace-robed woman. He hadn’t missed her earlier proclamation while hurrying over, and when he came to comfort Lin Lai, he couldn’t help but give her a teasing look.

Lin Lai thought, “I knew this would happen.”

She couldn’t help but resent the palace-robed woman, and whoever was behind this scheme clearly meant ill—there was no doubt they had wanted to abduct her. She wondered if perhaps they were in league with that blind monk, though their methods seemed quite different. But aside from them, she couldn’t think of anyone else who would target her family.

Back inside, Lin Lai dragged out the wooden bird, its core now destroyed. She considered repairing it so it might lead her to the mastermind. But Master Lin waved the suggestion away. “We have an accomplice right here,” he said.

“Let me question her and see whether there’s been some misunderstanding.” He smiled benignly, but anyone who thought him truly gentle would be sorely mistaken.

In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the palace-robed woman had confessed everything.

What exactly transpired, Lin Lai didn’t know—her father had sent her to her mother right away, not allowing her to stay. Later, he explained the situation: the woman had been sent by her own husband, who’d accepted money from someone else to commit this vile act of abduction and harm. As for who had hired them, the woman only remembered her husband mentioning that the employer was a ruined noble, yet even so, could still offer fifty taels of silver as payment.

Lin Lai’s eyes went wide. “Fifty taels? That’s all it costs to have me kidnapped?”

Master Lin coughed. “Lulu…”

Lin Lai was just trying to lighten the mood. But when her father called her back to the point, she said, “Father, is it those made of mud again? Truly, a dog cannot change its ways.” The “mud” referred, of course, to those relatives from the Lin family of Jinhua County, while her father was the one who had emerged unstained from their mire.

Her reasoning was simple: if the attack wasn’t the work of her own enemies, then it must be someone targeting their whole family. At present, the ones who hated them most were the scoundrels from the Jinhua Lin clan. Moreover, the wooden bird had targeted their residence and knew her appearance exactly, meaning the mastermind had done their homework. Those who had sold the ancestral home had to be prime suspects.

If so, then they were rotten to the core—lazy, dissolute, and so wasteful that they’d even sold the fields near the ancestral tomb. Yet now, jealous of Master Lin’s success, they’d stooped to plotting her abduction in their bitterness.

Suddenly, a thought struck Lin Lai and she looked up at her father. “Father, their plan wasn’t just to kidnap me, was it?” If they only wanted ransom, that was a one-time deal. But those rotten fish and shrimps would never be satisfied—they likely meant to abduct her, ruin her reputation, and then “stoop” to marry her themselves.

Master Lin did not confirm, only telling Lin Lai to leave it to him.

She nodded obediently. “I understand, Father.”

This time, Master Lin had been truly angered, and would not let those people off easily, even if they shared his blood.

Though he had less influence in Jinhua than Changqing County, he lacked for nothing—least of all silver. Besides, these people were hardly innocent; this was not their first time abducting women. In the past, their wealth had shielded them, but now, with their fortune gone, it would take only a few charges to have them exiled three thousand li.

As a result, the female relatives of the Lin family threw aside their dignity and came to the ancestral home, weeping and wailing, hoping to use moral blackmail.

Lin Lai was unmoved.

Madam Xu was even less sympathetic—indeed, she itched to slap them herself.

Still, their noisy lamenting outside couldn’t go on. Lin Lai, eyes shining with mischief, summoned the steward and gave a few whispered instructions.

Soon after, the steward rounded up the most infamous shrews in town and had them mingle with the crowd, unleashing their full talents.

It took less than a moment for the Lin family women to be so mortified that they wished the earth would swallow them.

All around, people pointed and whispered. No matter how thick their skin, the women couldn’t stay any longer—they dried their tears and climbed into their carriage to leave.

But just as they turned a corner, several buckets of chamber pot contents were dumped over the carriage roof, leaving them reeking in truth.

One could imagine the looks on their faces.

When Madam Xu heard, she started to upbraid her daughter, but couldn’t help bursting into laughter, finding it immensely satisfying.

Lin Lai felt the same. After all, those people got exactly what they deserved—especially the Lin men who had set their sights on her.

She loathed the way these men, who were clearly perpetrators, thought that just because they had two extra ounces of flesh between their legs, they could ruin a woman’s reputation and force her to submit to their ugly advances. Did they really expect her to fall victim to moral blackmail? Who was truly at fault here?

The more Lin Lai thought about it, the angrier she became, and she couldn’t help but let some of that frustration slip into her letter to Ma Jie Fu. But she didn’t paint all men with the same brush; on the contrary, she appreciated him all the more.

Upon receiving her letter, Ma Jie Fu was gratified, if a little puzzled. “Is this what they mean by ‘fragrance from afar, stench up close’?”

·

Because of this unpleasant incident, Lin Lai’s family didn’t linger in Jinhua County, preparing instead to return home.

Before leaving, Lin Lai paid a visit to Li Hua’s household to see A-Liang.

Now, with Li Hua’s permission, A-Liang had used the body of the deceased child, Li Zhu, to return to life.

The Li family had grieved deeply, but after learning the boy wasn’t their blood, their sorrow eased somewhat. Li Hua was already old and had always been unlucky with offspring. Now, seeing their resurrected son so bright and clever, they decided to raise him to adulthood to care for them in their old age. Fortunately, A-Liang was there to repay their kindness and was very filial to the couple, bringing them some comfort.

When he saw Lin Lai, A-Liang ran over to speak with her.

Knowing she still felt uneasy about Li Zhu, he offered, “My elder brother has been adopted in the underworld by a squire named Jiang. He’s settled and even brought me over for a short visit, during which I learned that Li Zhu has already been reincarnated.”

Lin Lai nodded, then asked, “What about you? This body isn’t a perfect fit for your soul, is it? Is there anything inconvenient for you?—What’s wrong?”

For once, A-Liang showed a side befitting his age. No longer composed, he wiped his eyes and said tearfully, “I thought the immortal lady didn’t like me.”

Lin Lai quickly reassured him, “Of course not! Don’t cry—you know people can see you now, right? If they see this, they’ll think I’m bullying a child.”

No sooner had she spoken than a young servant called out, “Young master?”

Lin Lai thought, “...I swear, I’m not jinxed.”