Wu Du has given Duan Ling another bowl, and for two meals a day lets him eat sitting in the doorway. At the end of each meal, Duan Ling does his own dishes. It’s almost like Wu Du has started to keep a dog, and merely finds it amusing to have him around; one day he’d even taken a look inside the woodshed to see it cleaned up nicely with the bowl and chopsticks neatly placed.
Duan Ling is never full though. Fifteen is just the right age for a young man to grow, but all he gets at each meal is the lesser half of a bowl of rice and a bit of leafy vegetable so he’s hungry most of the time, but he doesn’t dare try to steal anything to eat. Sometimes, when Wu Du is in a bad mood and he can’t eat much, he’ll come out after he finishes eating, throws his leftovers into Duan Ling’s dog bowl, and tosses his own bowl and chopsticks in the wooden basin. By the time he looks back, Duan Ling will have finished the food.
“You eat so much.”
One time Wu Du suddenly gets an idea in his head to find out how much Duan Ling can eat in one go, so he gives him a bit more than usual. Duan Ling eats all of it. Wu Du gives him some more, and Duan Ling finishes that too. He grants him a few pieces of flatbread then, and Duan Ling manages to eat those too. At last Wu Du gives him two steamed buns, but by then Duan Ling really can’t fit anything else in his stomach and struggles in his attempt to swallow it all down, while Wu Du just finds it all fun to watch. A little while later, Duan Ling takes the steamed buns back into the woodshed and puts them away, planning to eat them when he gets hungry.
Wu Du starts to laugh. Duan Ling too, lets out a short laugh at himself.
Wu Du stops laughing; he’s suddenly able to feel a strange pang when he looks at this young man, as though this mute is just like himself, living with less dignity than a feral dog.
Wu Du tosses him a robe he doesn’t want anymore, and Duan Ling picks it up thinking Wu Du wanted him to wash it. The next day, once it’s cleaned and dried in the sun, he folds it up neatly and puts it down in the doorway.
Wu Du gives it a puzzled look. “That’s for you.”
Duan Ling gives him an awkward nod only then, and takes the robe with him.
Even if he sees it only as keeping a dog, dog-keeping is an emotional affair. This dog may not be all that clingy towards him, yet when Wu Du comes back everyday to see Duan Ling busying himself at the flowerbed, he gets a strange feeling; he may be mocked and ridiculed out there, but when he comes home he can feel a bit more relaxed.
Sometimes when he’s out running errands past meal time, he’ll suddenly remember that he hasn’t fed the puppy he has at home yet, and thinks, it’s probably hungry by now.
One day, Wu Du turns to Duan Ling to ask, “How old are you?”
Duan Ling is crouching in front of the flowerbed, caring for the rare plants and grasses Wu Du planted. He turns and holds up the pointer finger of his left hand, and spreads his right hand with the palm down. I’m fifteen.
He knows Wu Du is going to grow curious about his identity sooner or later, and that he must think up a story; otherwise if Wu Du starts getting suspicious he’ll only be in even more danger.
Wu Du appraises Duan Ling, and a sympathetic emotion, a feeling like they’re in the same boat starts to grow. He raps the table with his knuckles. “Drink this bowl of medicine.”
Duan Ling puts down the spade and goes to the door, but he doesn’t dare go inside. Wu Du is a solitary figure sitting behind the desk, with a strand of sunlight shining onto his face from the skylight. He says to Duan Ling, “Come on in.”
Duan Ling enters and drinks the medicine. Suddenly, his throat begins to twitch like a million needles pricking at his skin, so itchy he can barely stand it. He stumbles outside, and grabbing his own throat he starts yelling.
“Yell.” Wu Du says dispassionately, “Shout it out and your vocal cords will gradually open up.”
Duan Ling coughs, crying out hoarsely, rolling around the ground yelling with a scratchy voice.
“Is it really that bad.” Wu Du doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry, and continues flipping through his Book of Medicine, silently reflecting on its contents.
By dusk Duan Ling can already start talking. He calls out ah, ah a few times, and Wu Du comes out to look at him at dinner and says to him, “Say something.”
Duan Ling says ah, and Wu Du says, “Say ‘I’.”
“Ah … I.” Duan Ling’s vocal cords have recovered.
Wu Du says, “Eat.”
Duan Ling bows his head and eats. Wu Du gives him an impatient kick. “I was asking you to say ‘eat’.”
Duan Ling spits out a mouthful of food and chokes a couple of times. He raises his head and says to Wu Du, “Ee—eat.”
“Recite, ‘shoulder pole long, wooden bench wide, shoulder pole is tied to the wooden bench’.”2
Duan Ling stares at him silently for a heartbeat before he begins, “Shoulder … shoulder pole long …” he stammers, and Wu Du bursts into laughter, pointing at Duan Ling and laughing so hard that tears come out of his eyes. Duan Ling has tears in his eyes as well, and he gives Wu Du a nod, hesitating if he should get down on his knees and kowtow to thank Wu Du for curing him, but Wu Du seems to be done with him and turns back to go inside.
“What’s your name? Where’s your hometown?” Wu Du is in a really good mood today, and inside the house he’s eating as well and casually asks this of Duan Ling.
My name is Duan Ling, my dad’s name is Duan Sheng … these words float into Duan Ling’s mind.
My name is Li Ruo, my dad is the current emperor Li Jianhong; another set of words float into Duan Ling’s mind.
“Wang …” Duan Ling says, “Shan.”
Duan Ling dares not tell him that his name is Li Ruo, and he dares not say that his name is Duan Ling, either. If by some chance the Mus knows the significance behind the names “Duan Ling” and “Li Ruo”, telling him that will be the same as pushing himself into the fire.
“Wang Xiaoshan. Where’re you from?”
“Xunbei,” Duan Ling says in a hoarse voice.3
“From Xunbei?” Wu Du asks, confused. “What are you doing all the way here, if you’re from Xunbei?”
“Dad … dad was selling medicine, got robbed.”
That confirms some of Wu Du’s speculations. “Where was he robbed?”
“Tongguan.”4
“You’re lucky,” Wu Du says without thinking.
Over this last month Duan Ling has thought it all out in great detail; people in the ‘hometown’ of Xunbei he speaks of happens to have a similar accent to those from Xunyang,5 and the place was taken by Mongols while he was on the run — it was one of the places he passed through as he fled south. Even if anyone checks they won’t be able to find anything. According to Duan Ling, his mother died in the war, and he left Xunbei with his father for Xiliang on business to purchase medicinal ingredients, hoping to trade it along the Xichuan road. But ultimately the times were chaotic, they were robbed by a band of bandits, and he was captured by the bandits, given poison tea and thrown into the Min River. He thinks he probably drifted a long way with the current and in the end was lucky enough to run aground outside the city of Xichuan.
This way, the end of the story just happens to match reality and Wu Du no longer has any misgivings. The only thing that doesn’t make any sense is the particular poison that was used on Duan Ling.
“What sort of bandit would use Tranquil Death on you?”
“I … I don’t know. Dad … dad bought the secret formula … in Xiliang.”
Wu Du files away this suspicion then, and doesn’t press him on it. There are all kinds of poisons that can do all kinds of things; from his vast knowledge of the myriad poisons on this earth, Wu Du knows that Tranquil Death is extremely expensive, its refinement process quite troublesome, and it’s also exceptionally rare. He asks several more questions and Duan Ling harnesses all of his knowledge and musters the breadth of his imagination to square this lie — he makes up a marketplace in Xiliang, telling Wu Du that he and his father were purchasing goods on the market, and they happen to buy a small case with a rare poison and ended up taking it with them. When they passed by a town outside Tongguan they were targeted by brigands and in the end he was taken to test the poison inside the case.
This time, Wu Du believes him. However bizarre this story is, it’s within acceptable parameters.
“A small case from Xiyu.” Wu Du asks, “Was it decorated with open filigree?”
Duan Ling gesticulates from outside the door, meaning to say about this big.
Wu Du doesn’t press him anymore, and tells him, “Go wash your clothes.”
The moon rises to the centre of the sky, and on this summer night Duan Ling is sitting in the courtyard, washing his clothes. It’s getting hotter in Xichuan; all Wu Du is wearing is a pair of knee-length thin silk pants, topless, sitting back with his legs resting on the table, his slim figure covered in lean, sturdy muscles. “Look at you, all fine-boned and soft like that, you’re most likely a little treasure in your parents’ eyes. We can ask around and if we get any news of your dad, make him bring ten, maybe twenty taels of silver over and he can take you home.”
Duan Ling washes his clothes without speaking. There are tear tracks on his profile.
Late in the night, a visitor arrives. A servant says from outside the courtyard gates, “Someone’s here to see you.”
“Who?” Wu Du asks.
“Says his name is ‘He’.”
“Please welcome him in.”
His visitor is an old man; Wu Du hasten to put on a robe and tidies up his messy room, while Duan Ling dries his hands, ladles some water into the teapot to put over the stove to heat up water for tea.
“Uncle He.” Wu Du bows.6
The old man glances at Duan Ling.
“I picked him up in the mountains,” Wu Du hurriedly explains. “Please, have a seat.”
“I brought you the ingredients you asked me for last time. It’s all written down here.” He produces a list and a cloth bundle.
Wu Du thanks him right away, “Thank you for making the trip. I’m so sorry for putting you through all this trouble.”
“Oh, it’s quite alright. I was going to come down from the mountains anyway, and I thought I may as well drop by. Made a new poison lately. I thought I’d let you take a look.”
Duan Ling finishes heating the water, and goes back outside to do the laundry.
“This poison is colourless and tasteless, so it won’t be found out when it’s taken. It needs a catalyst to work, and once the catalyst hits, the poison will take effect and the target will die.”
Wu Du doesn’t open the packet containing the poison. He seems lost in thought.
“Oh, Wu Du,” the old man says, sounding reproachful, and perhaps he also sounds like he’s trying to pressure Wu Du. “With one’s time on earth, there are some things that one must do.”
“I can’t get past that threshold in my heart.” Wu Du sits back on his heels contentedly, and pushes the packet back across the table. “Master told me that poisoning is not for the sake of murder.”
The old man named He sits cross-legged in front of the low table face to face with Wu Du, and takes a sip of the tea he’s been holding. “That chronic patient can’t last all that long, so why bother? You’ve taken the wrong side from the very start. You should’ve followed the crown prince.”
Duan Ling is hanging up Wu Du’s undershirt. When he hears this his hands come to an abrupt stop.
He opens his eyes wide, and wider. From the horizon, the full moon shines on Duan Ling.
“The crown prince has Wuluohou Mu. There’s no room there for me. And besides, you’re all quite right to say it, and the late emperor was also right to say so. My tendency for excessive leniency makes me unfit to accomplish great things. I both did not avenge general Zhao, nor did I avenge the late emperor.”
“You were with Zhao Kui for many years, but you were only at Li Jianhong’s side for ten days. Which is more important? That’s something you ought to know full well. Li Jianhong’s death is not your fault.”
When he hears this Duan Ling begins to quiver uncontrollably; he stops breathing.
But Wu Du doesn’t say anything. He merely takes a sip of his tea.
“The late emperor said I never did understand what I really wanted. He was right. I’m as directionless as a patch of drifting duckweed, floating whichever way the wind blows. I used to follow general Zhao, and after general Zhao’s death I followed Li Jianhong, and after Li Jianhong’s death, I’m now following chancellor Mu …”
When Duan Ling hears ‘after Li Jianhong’s death’, instantly all sounds move a great distance away from him, and there is no longer any noise by his ears. His entire person goes completely numb, as though a deadly poison has been injected into his veins to circulate throughout his body; all of his senses gradually leave him.
“I’ll test this poison for now,” Wu Du opens the packet. Inside are some powder and several small pills.
“The powder is the poison,” the old man explains, “and the pills are the catalyst. Use the poison first, then the pill. Death will come within two hours.”
He rises. Wu Du puts on his sandals and walks his guest all the way outside the front gates.
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
It’s a classic tongue twister, but the one used here is the modern one that’s been updated since the Song dynasty. S.H.E. (the girl band) actually made a song featuring the line. The song is called 中國話 (literally: Chinese Language) and here’s it on youtube with pinyin. It’s the first two lines, but it’s slightly different from the one Feitian used. The whole thing is at 0:59 - 1:09. (Warning for very obvious nationalism when it comes to the rest of the song.) ↩︎
“North of Xunyang”, An area to the west of Shangzi, close to Runan, Duan Ling’s childhood hometown. ↩︎
This is on the map. It’s just north of Xichuan. ↩︎
The ancient (Han) city of Xunyang was in Hubei. ↩︎
“Shishu” means “fellow student from the same school of the same generation”. For a glossary, check the reference index. ↩︎
Wu Du has given Duan Ling another bowl, and for two meals a day lets him eat sitting in the doorway. At the end of each meal, Duan Ling does his own dishes. It’s almost like Wu Du has started to keep a dog, and merely finds it amusing to have him around; one day he’d even taken a look inside the woodshed to see it cleaned up nicely with the bowl and chopsticks neatly placed.
Duan Ling is never full though. Fifteen is just the right age for a young man to grow, but all he gets at each meal is the lesser half of a bowl of rice and a bit of leafy vegetable so he’s hungry most of the time, but he doesn’t dare try to steal anything to eat. Sometimes, when Wu Du is in a bad mood and he can’t eat much, he’ll come out after he finishes eating, throws his leftovers into Duan Ling’s dog bowl, and tosses his own bowl and chopsticks in the wooden basin. By the time he looks back, Duan Ling will have finished the food.
“You eat so much.”
One time Wu Du suddenly gets an idea in his head to find out how much Duan Ling can eat in one go, so he gives him a bit more than usual. Duan Ling eats all of it. Wu Du gives him some more, and Duan Ling finishes that too. He grants him a few pieces of flatbread then, and Duan Ling manages to eat those too. At last Wu Du gives him two steamed buns, but by then Duan Ling really can’t fit anything else in his stomach and struggles in his attempt to swallow it all down, while Wu Du just finds it all fun to watch. A little while later, Duan Ling takes the steamed buns back into the woodshed and puts them away, planning to eat them when he gets hungry.
Wu Du starts to laugh. Duan Ling too, lets out a short laugh at himself.
Wu Du stops laughing; he’s suddenly able to feel a strange pang when he looks at this young man, as though this mute is just like himself, living with less dignity than a feral dog.
Wu Du tosses him a robe he doesn’t want anymore, and Duan Ling picks it up thinking Wu Du wanted him to wash it. The next day, once it’s cleaned and dried in the sun, he folds it up neatly and puts it down in the doorway.
Wu Du gives it a puzzled look. “That’s for you.”
Duan Ling gives him an awkward nod only then, and takes the robe with him.
Even if he sees it only as keeping a dog, dog-keeping is an emotional affair. This dog may not be all that clingy towards him, yet when Wu Du comes back everyday to see Duan Ling busying himself at the flowerbed, he gets a strange feeling; he may be mocked and ridiculed out there, but when he comes home he can feel a bit more relaxed.
Sometimes when he’s out running errands past meal time, he’ll suddenly remember that he hasn’t fed the puppy he has at home yet, and thinks, it’s probably hungry by now.
One day, Wu Du turns to Duan Ling to ask, “How old are you?”
Duan Ling is crouching in front of the flowerbed, caring for the rare plants and grasses Wu Du planted. He turns and holds up the pointer finger of his left hand, and spreads his right hand with the palm down. I’m fifteen.
He knows Wu Du is going to grow curious about his identity sooner or later, and that he must think up a story; otherwise if Wu Du starts getting suspicious he’ll only be in even more danger.
Wu Du appraises Duan Ling, and a sympathetic emotion, a feeling like they’re in the same boat starts to grow. He raps the table with his knuckles. “Drink this bowl of medicine.”
Duan Ling puts down the spade and goes to the door, but he doesn’t dare go inside. Wu Du is a solitary figure sitting behind the desk, with a strand of sunlight shining onto his face from the skylight. He says to Duan Ling, “Come on in.”
Duan Ling enters and drinks the medicine. Suddenly, his throat begins to twitch like a million needles pricking at his skin, so itchy he can barely stand it. He stumbles outside, and grabbing his own throat he starts yelling.
“Yell.” Wu Du says dispassionately, “Shout it out and your vocal cords will gradually open up.”
Duan Ling coughs, crying out hoarsely, rolling around the ground yelling with a scratchy voice.
“Is it really that bad.” Wu Du doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry, and continues flipping through his Book of Medicine, silently reflecting on its contents.
By dusk Duan Ling can already start talking. He calls out ah, ah a few times, and Wu Du comes out to look at him at dinner and says to him, “Say something.”
Duan Ling says ah, and Wu Du says, “Say ‘I’.”
“Ah … I.” Duan Ling’s vocal cords have recovered.
Wu Du says, “Eat.”
Duan Ling bows his head and eats. Wu Du gives him an impatient kick. “I was asking you to say ‘eat’.”
Duan Ling spits out a mouthful of food and chokes a couple of times. He raises his head and says to Wu Du, “Ee—eat.”
“Recite, ‘shoulder pole long, wooden bench wide, shoulder pole is tied to the wooden bench’.”2
Duan Ling stares at him silently for a heartbeat before he begins, “Shoulder … shoulder pole long …” he stammers, and Wu Du bursts into laughter, pointing at Duan Ling and laughing so hard that tears come out of his eyes. Duan Ling has tears in his eyes as well, and he gives Wu Du a nod, hesitating if he should get down on his knees and kowtow to thank Wu Du for curing him, but Wu Du seems to be done with him and turns back to go inside.
“What’s your name? Where’s your hometown?” Wu Du is in a really good mood today, and inside the house he’s eating as well and casually asks this of Duan Ling.
My name is Duan Ling, my dad’s name is Duan Sheng … these words float into Duan Ling’s mind.
My name is Li Ruo, my dad is the current emperor Li Jianhong; another set of words float into Duan Ling’s mind.
“Wang …” Duan Ling says, “Shan.”
Duan Ling dares not tell him that his name is Li Ruo, and he dares not say that his name is Duan Ling, either. If by some chance the Mus knows the significance behind the names “Duan Ling” and “Li Ruo”, telling him that will be the same as pushing himself into the fire.
“Wang Xiaoshan. Where’re you from?”
“Xunbei,” Duan Ling says in a hoarse voice.3
“From Xunbei?” Wu Du asks, confused. “What are you doing all the way here, if you’re from Xunbei?”
“Dad … dad was selling medicine, got robbed.”
That confirms some of Wu Du’s speculations. “Where was he robbed?”
“Tongguan.”4
“You’re lucky,” Wu Du says without thinking.
Over this last month Duan Ling has thought it all out in great detail; people in the ‘hometown’ of Xunbei he speaks of happens to have a similar accent to those from Xunyang,5 and the place was taken by Mongols while he was on the run — it was one of the places he passed through as he fled south. Even if anyone checks they won’t be able to find anything. According to Duan Ling, his mother died in the war, and he left Xunbei with his father for Xiliang on business to purchase medicinal ingredients, hoping to trade it along the Xichuan road. But ultimately the times were chaotic, they were robbed by a band of bandits, and he was captured by the bandits, given poison tea and thrown into the Min River. He thinks he probably drifted a long way with the current and in the end was lucky enough to run aground outside the city of Xichuan.
This way, the end of the story just happens to match reality and Wu Du no longer has any misgivings. The only thing that doesn’t make any sense is the particular poison that was used on Duan Ling.
“What sort of bandit would use Tranquil Death on you?”
“I … I don’t know. Dad … dad bought the secret formula … in Xiliang.”
Wu Du files away this suspicion then, and doesn’t press him on it. There are all kinds of poisons that can do all kinds of things; from his vast knowledge of the myriad poisons on this earth, Wu Du knows that Tranquil Death is extremely expensive, its refinement process quite troublesome, and it’s also exceptionally rare. He asks several more questions and Duan Ling harnesses all of his knowledge and musters the breadth of his imagination to square this lie — he makes up a marketplace in Xiliang, telling Wu Du that he and his father were purchasing goods on the market, and they happen to buy a small case with a rare poison and ended up taking it with them. When they passed by a town outside Tongguan they were targeted by brigands and in the end he was taken to test the poison inside the case.
This time, Wu Du believes him. However bizarre this story is, it’s within acceptable parameters.
“A small case from Xiyu.” Wu Du asks, “Was it decorated with open filigree?”
Duan Ling gesticulates from outside the door, meaning to say about this big.
Wu Du doesn’t press him anymore, and tells him, “Go wash your clothes.”
The moon rises to the centre of the sky, and on this summer night Duan Ling is sitting in the courtyard, washing his clothes. It’s getting hotter in Xichuan; all Wu Du is wearing is a pair of knee-length thin silk pants, topless, sitting back with his legs resting on the table, his slim figure covered in lean, sturdy muscles. “Look at you, all fine-boned and soft like that, you’re most likely a little treasure in your parents’ eyes. We can ask around and if we get any news of your dad, make him bring ten, maybe twenty taels of silver over and he can take you home.”
Duan Ling washes his clothes without speaking. There are tear tracks on his profile.
Late in the night, a visitor arrives. A servant says from outside the courtyard gates, “Someone’s here to see you.”
“Who?” Wu Du asks.
“Says his name is ‘He’.”
“Please welcome him in.”
His visitor is an old man; Wu Du hasten to put on a robe and tidies up his messy room, while Duan Ling dries his hands, ladles some water into the teapot to put over the stove to heat up water for tea.
“Uncle He.” Wu Du bows.6
The old man glances at Duan Ling.
“I picked him up in the mountains,” Wu Du hurriedly explains. “Please, have a seat.”
“I brought you the ingredients you asked me for last time. It’s all written down here.” He produces a list and a cloth bundle.
Wu Du thanks him right away, “Thank you for making the trip. I’m so sorry for putting you through all this trouble.”
“Oh, it’s quite alright. I was going to come down from the mountains anyway, and I thought I may as well drop by. Made a new poison lately. I thought I’d let you take a look.”
Duan Ling finishes heating the water, and goes back outside to do the laundry.
“This poison is colourless and tasteless, so it won’t be found out when it’s taken. It needs a catalyst to work, and once the catalyst hits, the poison will take effect and the target will die.”
Wu Du doesn’t open the packet containing the poison. He seems lost in thought.
“Oh, Wu Du,” the old man says, sounding reproachful, and perhaps he also sounds like he’s trying to pressure Wu Du. “With one’s time on earth, there are some things that one must do.”
“I can’t get past that threshold in my heart.” Wu Du sits back on his heels contentedly, and pushes the packet back across the table. “Master told me that poisoning is not for the sake of murder.”
The old man named He sits cross-legged in front of the low table face to face with Wu Du, and takes a sip of the tea he’s been holding. “That chronic patient can’t last all that long, so why bother? You’ve taken the wrong side from the very start. You should’ve followed the crown prince.”
Duan Ling is hanging up Wu Du’s undershirt. When he hears this his hands come to an abrupt stop.
He opens his eyes wide, and wider. From the horizon, the full moon shines on Duan Ling.
“The crown prince has Wuluohou Mu. There’s no room there for me. And besides, you’re all quite right to say it, and the late emperor was also right to say so. My tendency for excessive leniency makes me unfit to accomplish great things. I both did not avenge general Zhao, nor did I avenge the late emperor.”
“You were with Zhao Kui for many years, but you were only at Li Jianhong’s side for ten days. Which is more important? That’s something you ought to know full well. Li Jianhong’s death is not your fault.”
When he hears this Duan Ling begins to quiver uncontrollably; he stops breathing.
But Wu Du doesn’t say anything. He merely takes a sip of his tea.
“The late emperor said I never did understand what I really wanted. He was right. I’m as directionless as a patch of drifting duckweed, floating whichever way the wind blows. I used to follow general Zhao, and after general Zhao’s death I followed Li Jianhong, and after Li Jianhong’s death, I’m now following chancellor Mu …”
When Duan Ling hears ‘after Li Jianhong’s death’, instantly all sounds move a great distance away from him, and there is no longer any noise by his ears. His entire person goes completely numb, as though a deadly poison has been injected into his veins to circulate throughout his body; all of his senses gradually leave him.
“I’ll test this poison for now,” Wu Du opens the packet. Inside are some powder and several small pills.
“The powder is the poison,” the old man explains, “and the pills are the catalyst. Use the poison first, then the pill. Death will come within two hours.”
He rises. Wu Du puts on his sandals and walks his guest all the way outside the front gates.
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
It’s a classic tongue twister, but the one used here is the modern one that’s been updated since the Song dynasty. S.H.E. (the girl band) actually made a song featuring the line. The song is called 中國話 (literally: Chinese Language) and here’s it on youtube with pinyin. It’s the first two lines, but it’s slightly different from the one Feitian used. The whole thing is at 0:59 - 1:09. (Warning for very obvious nationalism when it comes to the rest of the song.) ↩︎
“North of Xunyang”, An area to the west of Shangzi, close to Runan, Duan Ling’s childhood hometown. ↩︎
This is on the map. It’s just north of Xichuan. ↩︎
The ancient (Han) city of Xunyang was in Hubei. ↩︎
“Shishu” means “fellow student from the same school of the same generation”. For a glossary, check the reference index. ↩︎
