"Why are you back so late? What were you doing out in the middle of the night?"
Still half-asleep and groggy, Fang Jibai heard the voices of his father and mother murmuring outside.
"Keep your voice down. Little Fourth is working for the yamen now; he likely had business to tend to," Mother Fang said, glancing toward the bed in the inner room. "Let him sleep a bit longer."
"Look at the time, it's already—" Fang Lishan looked up just as his fourth son emerged, pulling on his jacket. "You're up? Splash some water on your face and clear your head."
"Right," Fang Jibai replied.
"You stubborn old man," Mother Fang grumbled under her breath before turning to her son. "Little Fourth, did your father wake you?"
"No, I was already awake," Fang Jibai said with a smile. "Where's Third Sister?"
"The tirewoman is doing her hair," Mother Fang said.
"Little Fourth, Little Fourth!" Fang Lishan shouted from the yard. "Change your clothes! Time to change!"
Fang Jibai changed into a long gown of blue cotton. Mother Fang looked at her youngest son, rubbing her reddened eyes.
This gown had belonged to her eldest son, Fang Jiwei. When he met his end, the garment had only been half-sewn.
For her own upcoming wedding, Third Sister had not only made her bridal dress, but had also helped their mother finish this gown, which should have been completed eleven years ago.
Looking at their fourth brother dressed in the long gown, Fang Damiao and Fang Ermiao both grew red-eyed.
He looked like them—far too much like them.
The four Fang brothers had all shared similar features, but Eldest Brother and Second Brother had looked most alike. None of them had expected that once Little Fourth put on Eldest Brother's gown, he would evoke the living image of Fang Jiwei—or as though Second Brother Fang Jiyan were standing right there in the flesh.
***
"Third Sister," Fang Jibai called from the doorway. "May I come in?"
After receiving permission from the tirewoman, Fang Jibai stepped into the room.
Fang Sanmiao was already fully dressed and made up. Facing a round mirror whose mercury backing had begun to darken, she tilted her head slightly, as if examining her reflection.
The glass showed a powdered face of extraordinary porcelain pale, her eyebrows painted long and slender, her lips dabbed with rouge in the fashionable style.
Her hair was combed with meticulous care, glossy and smooth, coiled at the back of her head into the ultra-modern "S-chignon," dark and dense as a bank of clouds.
A pang struck Fang Jibai's nose, stinging his eyes.
Beneath that dark cloud, behind her ear, he caught the glint of silver—two silver hairpins, visibly aged.
The plum blossom heads were simple, their petals worn smooth around the edges. Set beside the crisp, fresh chignon and the glittering beaded hairpieces, they seemed terribly out of place, yet stubbornly anchored there, catching the eye with quiet insistence.
Both silver pins had been bought by Second Brother, one of them purchased on Eldest Brother's behalf.
In the twenty-second year of the Republic, before his unit marched off to the Great Wall defensive line, Second Brother Fang Jiyan had entrusted someone to carry home two silver hairpins along with a letter to the family:
*With this departure, the Great Wall line shall be the battleground for us soldiers of the National Revolutionary Army, and perhaps our final resting place as well.*
*As revolutionary soldiers, we naturally possess the resolve and determination to lay down our lives for the country. My only worry is our parents' health; I pray for their long life, blessing, and peace.*
*I think also of Eldest Younger Sister and Second Younger Sister. I hope your households remain in harmony, and I trust my two brothers-in-law will cherish you dearly and never treat you harshly.*
*As for Third Younger Sister, the youngest sister dearest to Eldest Brother and me, your brother has sent back two silver hairpins—one from myself, and one purchased on Eldest Brother's behalf. If your brother should indeed fall at the Great Wall, I shall have no regrets toward the nation. My only personal regret will be that when your bridal day arrives, your brother will not be there to see it. Consider this a token prepared for your future wedding send-off; please do not look down on it.*
*Lastly, Little Fourth: if your brother is no longer here, promise me you will look after our parents well and protect your elder sisters...*
Fang Jibai leaned quietly against the doorframe, a pair of jade bracelets cradled in his palm.
Fang Sanmiao looked at Little Fourth. In a daze, she felt as though she were seeing Eldest Brother, seeing Second Brother.
Fang Jibai slipped the jade bracelets onto Third Sister's wrists.
"Third Sister, this bracelet is mine," he said, lowering his voice. "And this one I bought on behalf of Third Brother."
With that, he smiled faintly. "Now everything is complete."
Fang Sanmiao looked at her fourth brother, wanting to speak, but her throat felt blocked by a heavy knot. Her eyes rimmed with red. In the end, she simply pinched his cheek, mouthing, *Your sister won't hit you today.*
Fang Jibai watched her in silence for a long moment, then said, "Why don't you give me one more beating, Third Sister? You won't get the chance after this."
Fang Sanmiao gave him a light slap—gentle, feather-soft—and then the tears finally spilled over. That damn Little Fourth, why did every word out of his mouth have to make her eyes sting so badly?
***
From the front yard came their father's muffled cough, along with the scurrying footsteps of the clan elders bustling about their duties.
The auspicious hour was approaching.
The boats sent to receive the bride were moored at the river landing behind the house—four black-awning boats lined up along the bank, their gunwales freshly pasted with auspicious red paper, their canopies flying bright red double-happiness flags.
The drums and horns struck up their tune.
Out among the tea fields, the young men of the Fang clan began carrying out the dowry.
Red-lacquered chests and hampers, heavy with quilts, garments, bolts of cloth, the five grains, decorative brass fittings, and porcelain, were hoisted aboard one by one. The black-awning boats settled visibly deeper into the water.
Third Sister went to the central hall and kowtowed before her father and mother.
Fang Lishan turned his face slightly to the side as he accepted her bows. His Adam's apple bobbed several times before he merely waved a hand, his voice thick and hoarse: "Go on... Live well. Live a good life."
Mother Fang tried to pull her daughter into a tearful embrace, but Fang Lishan glared at her. She could only choke back her sobs—on the day of a bridal send-off, tears were forbidden.
***
Clad in his long gown, Fang Jibai carried a cloth bundle slung across his shoulder, containing the spirit tablets of his eldest brother, Fang Jiwei, and his second brother, Fang Jiyan.
He bent down, lifted Third Sister onto his back, and bore her out for her bridal departure.
Carrying her step by steady step, he walked toward the wedding boats.
"Third Sister," Fang Jibai said. "Keep your temper in check from now on. From the looks of him, my third brother-in-law's frame won't hold up well to a beating."
"Mm."
"Third Sister?"
"Mm?"
"Is that really my third sister? Why aren't you snapping at me?"
Fang Sanmiao gave him a sharp pinch. Fang Jibai grimaced in pain, but grinned nonetheless. "Yep, that's my third sister, no doubt about it."
They reached the boats.
"Little Fourth," Fang Sanmiao said suddenly.
"Yeah?"
"There's going to be a war, isn't there?" she asked.
"Third Sister, just live a good life," Fang Jibai said.
"Little Fourth," she said, "promise me. Stay alive. You have to stay alive, all right?"
Fang Jibai remained silent.
"Little Fourth, stay alive! Your sister is talking to you, do you hear me?"
"Mm," Fang Jibai finally grunted in assent.
Amid the crackle and pop of firecrackers, he entrusted Third Sister into the care of his third brother-in-law, Cui Qingping.
The groom took his bride into his arms, helped her find her footing, and then offered his young brother-in-law a deep, solemn bow.
"The bride departs!"
"Homeward bound!"
Facing the direction of the tea fields, Cui Qingping suddenly dropped to his knees and knocked his head against the ground in loud, resounding kowtows, offering heartfelt thanks to his parents-in-law.
Her head covered by the red veil, Fang Sanmiao pressed her hands against the silk and cried out toward the shore, "Little Fourth! Little Fourth, remember what your sister said! Remember it! Remember... Your third sister is begging you... I'm begging you..."
***
Around midday.
Nanjing, Jiangjun Temple.
Chen Xiuqi arrived outside the gates of the Jiangjun Temple Police Station, accompanied by a constable.
He walked up to the sentry post and presented his credentials.
Chapter 22