The Hu family had few relatives but many guests. When Mi Niang came over and saw that Bahu was busy, she first went to find Qiqige and Jiya, bringing the three children into the house to sit and wait for the meal.
“My father is setting up the colored carts.” Qiqige pointed it out to Mi Niang.
“Mmm, I saw.” She tidied up the little girl’s hair, telling them not to run around playing in the afternoon, reminding them to come back and wash up, and change into the robes and boots they bought from the capital, “Tonight, you two will go to the wedding bed, so you can’t get dirty.”
Qiqige and Jiya were curious and excited about the wedding bed, especially knowing that there were red packets to be received. They behaved quietly all afternoon, especially carefully during dinner, afraid of getting soup on their new clothes.
“Where are the boys for the wedding bed?” The joyful grandmother came out to find them.
“Here.” Qiqige raised his hand high, wiped his mouth, and pulled Jiya off the chair, “Mom, we’re going, are you coming?”
“Yes.” Mi Niang put down her chopsticks and followed. She walked up to the joyful grandmother and asked, “Is there a specific time for the wedding bed?” She thought they had to wait until after dark.
“Yes, it’s set by the elders. He’s quite particular about these things.”
There were many people in the bridal chamber, including the mother and daughter from the Hu family, as well as some other women, probably wives of officials from the government.
“The wedding bed must be rolled three times, from the foot of the bed to the head, and then from the head to the foot again. That counts as one roll,” the joyful grandmother explained to Mi Niang, who then relayed it to the two children.
Qiqige and Jiya took off their boots and were lifted onto the bed by the joyful grandmother. The two children lay side by side on the heated brick bed, and as the joyful grandmother called out happily, the siblings rolled around on the bed with smiles on their faces.
“As the children roll on the wedding bed, joy spreads in all directions. Seeking a precious child to come, surely it will be a happy match. First, respect your parents, then shine brightly for your ancestors…”
After the three rolls, Mi Niang lifted the two children off the bed and helped them put on their boots. Just as they stood up, Mrs. Hu took out two large red packets, “Taking the joy of you two siblings, may your Auntie also have a chubby baby next year.”
“Thank you, Auntie.” Qiqige straightened out his scattered hair, joyfully accepting the red packets.
“Thank you, Auntie.” Jiya echoed, holding the red packets and looking at the joyful grandmother who was sweeping the bed with a broom and muttering to herself.
“Sweeping to the east, sweeping to the west, the girls and boys are running around the bed. Drawing to the east, drawing to the west, the girls and boys all tumble down…”
The joyful grandmother brought a woven basket filled with red dates, dried longans, chestnuts, and melon seeds. She handed it to Mrs. Hu and instructed her to sprinkle them under the quilt, saying, “Sprinkle a date, bring a son, sprinkle a chestnut, bring a daughter…”
Sprinkling a date means a son, and sprinkling a chestnut means a daughter. Finally, after making the bed and folding the covers, they closed the door and awaited the arrival of the bride.
“The customs you folks from the Central Plains uphold are quite interesting and festive,” said the woman wearing a pearl necklace as she walked out, holding Mrs. Hu’s hand and jokingly probing, “Is your daughter planning to marry a Han Chinese or someone from our Mobei?”
Mi Niang was walking out with her children, taking a different path from the others, so she didn’t hear how Mrs. Hu responded.
As the banquet was winding down, most of the people had gone out to listen to the performance. Bahu was still sitting there with Habul in his arms, waiting. He waved as people returned and saw the red packets in Qiqige and Jiya’s hands, teasing, “Looks like your purse just got heavier.”
Then he said to Mi Niang, “The food is still hot. Please continue eating.”
“Have you finished your meal?”
Bahu picked up his chopsticks as well. “Not yet, halfway. Let’s eat together when you’re back.” He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable eating alone at the table.
By the end of the meal, only their family of five remained at the table, enjoying the food and listening to the performance, feeling more comfortable than being in the crowded hall. But Mi Niang wanted to go mingle with others, and Qiqige and Jiya wanted to join too, to see the excitement. After all, what’s the point of going if they couldn’t see anything exciting?
“Then you go out. Habul and I will stay here. I’ll wait for you in the same place we were yesterday after the show ends,” Bahu didn’t want to squeeze into the crowd.
Mi Niang glanced at him sideways, gesturing to the two children, and then pulled him out while Habul looked around and giggled.
“Come on, you’ll accompany me,” she pleaded softly, “Sit with me, and if you don’t understand, just follow my lead in clapping.”
The man stepped out reluctantly, his movements betraying a reluctance but also a certain enjoyment of the moment. Amidst the hustle and bustle, they made their way outside.
Once inside the sheep pen, Qiqige and Jiya quickly left their parents to find their playmates. Mi Niang tugged at Bahu’s sleeve, searching for a spot to stand but couldn’t find a good position, so she had to stand while holding the child.
“You brought me here to be your backrest, didn’t you?” Bahu held the child in one hand and wrapped his other arm around her.
Mi Niang didn’t catch what he said clearly, just gave a smile and diverted her gaze back to the stage.
After a while, Bahu got bored. His eyes scanned the crowd and noticed many whose gazes weren’t fixed on the stage: young boys eager to hold girls’ hands, older men seeking idle conversation in the dim light, and women sitting on men’s laps, their eyes fixed on the stage while their hands were busy elsewhere.
“Cough, cough,” he coughed loudly twice, but it didn’t disturb anyone.
“Truly shameless,” he muttered to himself. Couldn’t they do these things at home? Did they have to find a public place for it?
Mi Niang noticed his distraction, leaned close to his ear, and asked loudly, “What’s wrong? What are you muttering about?”
Bahu glanced at her with a sigh, then pointed to the right in front of them. Sensing her grip tightening, he knew she had seen it too. He pulled her away.
“Let’s call the kids and go back,” he said only after they left the sheep pen. The lewdness and debauchery below the stage contrasted sharply with the lively atmosphere above, rendering the once esteemed stage somewhat absurd in the eyes of the crowd.
Mi Niang nodded, taking Habul and saying, “I’ll go find the children. You go back and give those two mischievous ones a good scolding. They won’t dare make a peep after being beaten.” It seemed like all these girls, like Pandi, had come to join the excitement, not realizing how many girls’ eyes they had dirtied.
Qiqige and Jiya always loved playing where there were many people. Where there was excitement, there they would be. When Mi Niang found them, a group of children sat in a circle holding bowls, pretending to toast each other. The crowd cheered as they toasted and sipped their butter tea, clapping and toasting again.
Ajima spotted them first, her face turning red. She set down her bowl and patted the two kids next to her, and the three of them held hands and followed Mi Niang out.
Bahu was already waiting outside.
“Come play again tomorrow. Let’s head back a bit earlier today. Your father needs to get up early tomorrow to accompany Uncle to Mao County to pick up the new Auntie. You need to go to bed early,” Mi Niang reasoned with the children.
The three children weren’t happy about it, but they understood and didn’t fuss. Halfway there, Qiqige shouted that she needed to pee, “Hurry, hurry, I don’t want to wet my pants like Habul.”
Bahu carried her a little further away so her pee wouldn’t freeze and cause someone to slip on the way back.
Once one needed to pee, the other two suddenly felt the urge too, leaving three holes in the snow.
The sound of drums and gongs was still audible. The houses standing in the distant snow were dark, devoid of lights, fires, or any human voices. The more Mi Niang held the child, the more uneasy she felt. It wasn’t until Bahu came over carrying the child that the chill in her heart dissipated.
“Winter nights are quite scary,” she murmured, walking behind Bahu, and stepping into his footprints.
“Yeah, yeah, I was terrified last night. I almost wet my pants,” speaking of being scared, Ajima had the most to say. Walking behind, he held onto the hem of Mi Niang’s clothes, summoning his courage to recount seeing Zhong Xunwen’s father last night, “His hair was matted with blood, a big lump on his forehead, and his face was bruised and black…”
In the desolate expanse of the snowy field, amidst the tearing winds, his voice was chilling, distorted, and tense. Mi Niang took a step forward, clutching Bahu’s coat, with Ajima following closely behind.
He stood there like a tree, shielding the two sparrows from the wind and snow.
“Enough, talking about being scared, are you silly?” One wanted to talk about being scared, while the other feared having to listen, with a small courage but a big addiction.
The two in his arms, truly brave, perked up their ears, asking, “What else? What else?”
“That’s it, then it’s time to rest. I’m back now.”
Finally, they reached home. With the oil lamp lit, two heavy sighs echoed. Bahu ruffled Mi Niang’s head, remembering that she hadn’t been scared when he killed Suhe.
“What’s wrong, messing up my hair?”
“You’ve been spoiled by me.”
With incongruent words, Mi Niang ignored him, scooping hot water to wash her face and soak her feet. The room was warmed by the heated brick bed. Before leaving, she scooped two buckets of snow into the pot and returned just in time to wash up.
The two were lying in bed, and only then did Mi Niang ask about the couple below the stage, “Do you know them? Are they a couple?”
“Don’t know. When I got there, they had already separated. Without catching them in the act, I didn’t lay a hand on them, to avoid getting bitten back,” Bahu said with closed eyes, speaking softly. “I promised my daughter I wouldn’t get into fights anymore.” It would be hard to explain if things escalated.
…
When Mi Niang took the three children to the Hu family, the new bride hadn’t been welcomed yet. According to the customs of the Mobei, the bride rode in a colored cart for the bridal procession. Once inside, the Central Plain’s customs took over: bowing to heaven and earth, bowing to the parents, and then going to the bridal chamber after the bowing ceremony.
“Is this how people from the Central Plains get married?” Bahu asked Mi Niang.
“Yes, we have a ceremony in the hall.”
With the arrival of the new bride, the joyous event came to a close. After a midday feast and the departure of the guests, the servants of the Hu family cleared away the leftovers. Bahu loaded up three baskets to take home, the excess food freezing into ice, ready to be thawed and fed to the dogs later.
“Mi Niang, come in,” Bahu called from the bedroom doorway, gesturing for Ajima to take Qiqige and Jiya to play in the sheep pen. “The corn sprouts have come up. Help water them with warm water. You’ll be paid for your work.”
At the mention of payment, Qiqige and Jiya didn’t hesitate to agree, their responses clear and enthusiastic.
With only two people left in the house now, excluding the little one sleeping. Bahu went to close the door, smiling at Mi Niang’s cautious expression. “I want to make you a nice hair bun.”
“Just let me fix your hair, why are you so guarded?” Mi Niang’s vigilance didn’t diminish.
The man smiled, pulling her into the room and seating her in front of the bronze mirror. He untied her low bun and began to meticulously comb and braid her hair, recalling the elaborate hairstyles of Mrs. Hu. “I heard this is called the ‘falling horse bun.’ Is it a style that women from the Central Plains like?”
Mi Niang looked at the woman in the bronze mirror, feeling much gentler with the new hairstyle. “Your hands are so skillful. I wouldn’t even know how to do the falling horse bun.”
“I’ll do it for you. If you want it, I’ll do it for you.”
Bahu took a golden hairpin and inserted it into her hair, thinking about buying her a flower crown next year. After inserting the last butterfly hairpin, he took out a red robe from the chest. “Change into this robe.”
Mi Niang was puzzled by his actions, but at this moment, he was gentle and affectionate, so she stopped questioning and silently changed into the watermelon-red robe, adorned with a string of gorgeous azaleas on the hem.
“Then what?”
Bahu took out two red candles from his sleeve, unlit. He lit them and placed them on the table, the flickering flames reflected in the bronze mirror alongside the excited face of the beautiful woman.
But when it came to the final step, he suddenly felt awkward. His tongue seemed to be tied, unable to utter the words he had been thinking about. After pondering for a moment, he finally spoke up.
“When I married you, it was quite simple. We had nothing, no blessings from my parents, and the proper etiquette was lacking. Compared to Hu Wen Yin marrying a new bride, I felt like a beggar begging for a wife. It’s as if I picked you up from the side of the road. Truly, all the good luck from my first nineteen years seems to have accumulated in my nineteenth year,” touching her bright eyes, he blushed deeply, stumbling over his words, and forgetting everything he meant to say. Bahu forcibly straightened Mi Niang’s body, continuing, “Although today we still have nothing, the bridal attire isn’t the proper red, there’s no joyous mother-in-law, even the candles were borrowed under the guise of the children’s name. But on this auspicious day, let’s bow to the hall together, following your customs, I’ll marry you again, leaving you with a memory.”
Although no one called for the traditional bowing to heaven and earth or to the parents, the two of them instinctively bowed three times toward the two red candles. When they stood up, Mi Niang couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the man’s flushed face, and as she laughed, tears came rolling down.
“It’s a bit simple, but you don’t need to cry,” Bahu awkwardly wiped her tears, “Keep some dignity for me.”
Mi Niang didn’t say anything, she hugged the man’s waist, tears flowing down his neck. As they tumbled onto the heated brick bed, her tears mixed with the sweat on his body.
In the bumping ride, the carefully arranged hair bun fell apart within minutes, hairpins scattered across the bed, and the watermelon-red robe tossed aside.
“I can see you’re most eager for our bridal chamber, the bowing ceremony is just an excuse you thought up,” at the most unbearable moment, Mi Niang bit down on the man’s shoulder, murmuring, “It’s not leaving me with a memory, it’s more like you’re leaving yourself with one.”
Taken aback by the sudden bite, she sobbed so hard she couldn’t speak.
“Nonsense!”
