“Zimo, you don’t look so good today, did you not sleep well the past two days?” Chang Er asked tentatively.
Brown Berry had eaten his fill by then. He set down his chopsticks and sat up straight. “Mother’s body is weak, so I need to take care of her.” He spoke woodenly, and it sounded like he’d been made to practice this answer many times.
Chang Er nodded. Cheng Jieyu had indeed looked unwell earlier that morning when she went to greet the Empress.
“Chang mufei*, next time, can I come to eat here often?” Ah Mu asked timidly, his fat little hands gripping the edge of the table. The servants of Chaoyang palace didn’t treat him badly, but also could not be said to treat him well. It was clear from their cold faces that they found taking care of him to be a thankless task. Ah Mu always felt scared around them, and had no appetite to eat anything.
*T/N: Mufei is how a Prince would address his mother. It means “mother consort” or “mother concubine”. Ah Mu actually isn’t supposed to address Chang Er as mufei, because he’s not her son, adopted or otherwise. However, that he does so shows that he considers her to be his mother, and that he has a good relationship with her.
“Sure, you can come every day if you want,” Chang Er said, reaching to pinch Ah Mu’s plump little face. In Jiuru Town, she had been so poor that there was no way she would have ever considered allowing another child to stay for a meal, but things were different now. As a Jieyu, she was served so much food at every meal that she and Chen Ziqi could never finish it all. She could certainly afford to feed a young child like Ah Mu.
Ah Mu was delighted. From that day on, he followed Chen Ziqi back to Qingyun Palace for lunch every day. Brown Berry would come along occasionally as well, though he didn’t say much when he joined them. Cheng Jieyu also never sent anyone to look for him when he came over.
After fasting and bathing in incense for seven days, it was finally time for the Midsummer Ritual.
This Midsummer Ritual was a custom observed by the Yuzhang Imperial family every year. It was of particular significance in the years when the Crown Prince had yet to be appointed. The legends said that every Emperor of this dynasty was personally selected by God, and there was a possibility that God would select the next Emperor at these Midsummer Rituals.
After being bathed, Chen Ziqi was dressed in the Ritual robes in a room thick with sandalwood incense. The Ritual outfit was a wide-sleeved, sky blue robe made of very soft material. After the belt was fastened, the entire outfit clung to him like a second skin. The only accessory he wore was his Imperial jade pendant, which hung from his waist. He didn’t even wear his usual jade belt – a cyan-coloured rope was used to secure his outfit in place of a real belt. A strip of cloth in the same colour was used to tie his long hair in a loose ponytail behind his back.
Chen Ziqi became increasingly uneasy. No matter how he looked at it, it was obvious that he and the other Princes were the things being sacrificed in this Ritual.
It was sunset when they arrived at Zhanghua Pavilion. The rays of the setting sun bathed the Zhanghua Pavilion in golden light and made the blue Dragonstone glow.
The High Priest was clad in a ceremonial snow-white robe embroidered with silver clouds. The robe had a train that was a foot long, and it was laid out neatly on the ground behind the High Priest. The silver threads glistened in the last rays of the sun, and the High Priest seemed to be surrounded by a halo of light. It was truly captivating sight; the High Priest’s white clothes and glowing halo made him look like a beautiful white peacock with its tail feathers on display.
“The Imperial descendants are all present, and I beseech God to make His divine decision. God above, protect the Dazhang Dynasty,” the High Priest intoned. His voice was cold, and brought to mind the ethereal image of a lone bird singing in a deserted valley.
The Zhenlong Emperor himself did not go up to the Zhanghua Pavilion. He stood below, watching the Princes walk up one by one.
Chen Ziqi stole a look at the Emperor, and saw that he had a slightly guilty expression on his face. This made him even more anxious. No one had told them what they were supposed to do at the altar. Had the Emperor recalled the lost princes so urgently because he was looking for someone to sacrifice in place of the one of the original seven princes?
The eleven princes were seated according to their age in a row behind the High Priest, listening to his measured chanting. Other than the first few sentences, Chen Ziqi couldn’t understand anything at all. He seemed to be speaking in an ancient language that sounded like birds chirping.
The chanting continued until the moon was high in the sky.
“For the Midsummer Ritual, the Son of Heaven ordinarily will Han Tao* through the night in the Zhanghua Temple. As you are only princes and not the Son of Heaven, you will hold cherries instead of peaches in your mouth as a sign of respect,” the High Priest said, gazing at the Zhanghua Temple just behind the Pavilion as he instructed the princes seated behind him.
*T/N: Han Tao, which is also the title of this novel, literally means to “hold a peach in your mouth”. I am not 100% on what the High Priest is saying here, he’s speaking in riddles in the raw. It could either be that if it was the Emperor was doing the ceremony, they would offer peaches instead of cherries, or that if the Emperor was doing the ceremony, it would still be cherries, just that he wouldn’t have to hold the cherries in his mouth. ╮(￣ω￣;)╭
The moment he finished speaking, attendants dressed in white appeared, each bearing a plate of juicy red cherries. One of the attendants walked toward Chen Ziqi. “Dianxia, please select a cherry,” the attendant in white said. The person’s face was covered by a thick white veil, and Chen Ziqi couldn’t make out his or her features.
He looked to his left and right. Every prince had a plate of cherries in front of them. The First and Second Prince had already done this once before, and they picked out a cherry at random without a second thought. Their hands were clasped together just below chest level, with the palm of the right hand cradling the back of the left hand. Their cherries were each placed right in the centre of the palm of the left hand.
The cherries had just been washed, and the little drops of water on them glistened in the moonlight. They looked very enticing to Chen Ziqi, who was parched after standing for an hour. He couldn’t take his eyes off the luscious cherries.
There didn’t seem to be much to choose between the individual cherries, so Chen Ziqi just chose the biggest and reddest one. He imitated the other princes, placing the cherry in his left palm, then surreptitiously took another two fat and juicy cherries from the plate and popped them into his mouth.
The little water droplets on the cherries immediately soothed his parched lips, which were to dry, they felt as if they were about to crack. He bit into the round little fruits, and the juice burst forth in his mouth, coating his tongue with a taste that was sweet and sour all at once. This quenched his thirst, and he felt momentarily refreshed.
This all happened in a split second, and the attendant didn’t have time to react. Since it was too late to stop Chen Ziqi, the attendant chose to simply turn a blind eye. He pulled back the plate of cherries protectively, then bent his head deferentially and left the Zhanghua Pavilion with his white-clad counterparts.
“God will alight upon us soon. Your Highnesses, this way please,” the High Priest said with his eyes closed. He gestured for the Princes to enter the Zhanghua Temple.
Zhanghua Temple was lit by twelve tall candelabra shaped like peacocks. They were made of bronze, and each one could hold thirty-six candles, arranged like the eyes on a peacock’s tail. All twelve candelabra were fully lit on this night, making the temple interior look as bright as day.
Chen Ziqi knelt on the round prayer mat and raised his eyes to look at the image of God on the wall. No one had ever mentioned what Dazhang Dynasty’s god looked like; it seemed that only the Imperial family had any knowledge of this. Everyone else referred to the god as the “Protector-God of the Nation”. Looking at the sculpture on the wall, he felt somewhat cheated. Wasn’t this just a regular dragon-phoenix image*?
*T/N: Dragon-phoenix images are very common in Chinese history. The dragon usually represents the Emperor, and the phoenix represents the Empress.
In the wall sculpture, a dragon and a phoenix were depicted entwined together in the clouds. It was exquisitely made, and looked particularly impressive in the warm candlelight, but it was still, at the end of the day, a regular dragon-phoenix image.
The Zhenlong Emperor and his ministers anxiously watched from below the Zhanghua Pavilion as they did the previous time.
At last year’s Midsummer Ritual, God did not deign to descend, and the Emperor had to painstakingly search for the lost princes among the populace. He wasn’t even sure if he’d managed to find them all. He hoped that nothing would go wrong this time.
The power of the Imperial family had been in decline for some time now, and if God still refused to grace them with His presence today, the next Emperor was likely to meet with even greater difficulties during his reign.
The High Priest continued to stand in the centre of Zhanghua Pavilion, quietly watching the situation in Zhanghua Temple.
A quarter of an hour later, all the candles in the temple suddenly went out. At the same time, the whole of Zhanghua Pavilion was filled with a brilliant white light. Rays of golden light shot out of the Dragonstone, and the faint markings on it took on a rich golden hue. The markings could now be seen to be in the shape of a golden phoenix in flight, encircled by a golden dragon at the sides of the stone. The detail was exquisite; even the individual feathers of the phoenix could be made out.
“God has come,” the High Priest said softly. He knelt, then kowtowed in the direction of Zhanghua Pavilion.
The people of Dazhang knew that today was the day of the Midsummer Ritual, and were all waiting in their yards for this moment. When they saw the brilliant golden light flash from Zhanghua Pavilion, they immediately fell to their knees and kowtowed in prayer.
Chen Ziqi was sitting in Zhanghua Temple and had no idea what had just happened. In the brief instant when the brilliant light from Zhanghua Pavilion illuminated the dark temple, he had caught a glimpse of the red chick hiding in the rafters.
“Chao Tian?” Chen Ziqi said in surprise. The light was too bright, and he had to close his eyes; when he opened them, it was dark again in the temple. All he had to see by was a sliver of moonlight that flowed in from the temple door, which was slightly ajar. Even after his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could only faintly make things out.
The High Priest appeared at the temple door. “Your Highnesses, please place the cherry in your mouth, then go to sleep on the prayer mats,” he instructed.
After the Princes had all put the cherries in their mouths, he walked toward to the dragon-phoenix wall sculpture and took out a very thin stick of incense. He lighted it, and placed it on the incense pot on the altar. He then raised his head very slightly, almost imperceptibly, and looked at the little red chick in the rafters.
Chen Ziqi followed the High Priest’s line of sight. He appeared to be looking at nothing but darkness, but Chen Ziqi knew that that was where the red chick was. He was absolutely certain that the High Priest was looking at that red chick!
The High Priest left Zhanghua Temple thereafter, closing the doors behind him. The whole temple was plunged into darkness. Although small spots of moonlight danced in from the small carvings in the door, the light was too dim to see by.
“Yawn….” Someone yawned in the darkness.
The eldest prince was the most relaxed. He lay down on the mat immediately and went to sleep the moment the door closed. The rest of the princes also nodded off thereafter, toppling onto the prayer mats.
In the frail light, Chen Ziqi could just make out that Ah Mu was next to him, and that he was already dead to the world. He was sleepy too, but he strongly resisted closing his eyes. This urge to sleep came on far too quickly, and something was definitely wrong with it.
He pinched himself hard to keep conscious, then sat up, looking up at the rafters where he last saw the chick.
The little red chick slowly inched out of the shadows and tilted its head as it looked at him. Moonlight shone on the two little crown feathers, casting a long shadow across the temple floor.
Chen Ziqi’s eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. He could no longer resist, and he plopped down onto the prayer mat, looking at the cherry in his hand. The High Priest said that he had to keep it in his mouth and not eat it, but he was worried that he might accidentally swallow it in his sleep. He’d probably choke to death if he did that – this cherry was pretty big. After some thought, he settled on putting the cherry in the pocket formed by his lips and teeth, then closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Chen Ziqi felt like he had only slept for a short while before his eyes flew open again. The little red chick was standing right in front of him. He wanted to reach out to catch it, but he seemed to have been robbed of all his energy. He could only watch as the little chick hopped to the cherry at his lips, tilted its head and pecked at the cherry with its pastel yellow beak.
“Mmph…” Chen Ziqi protested, his eyes widening. He wanted to stop the chick from spoiling the cherry – he only had this one cherry, and if this chick ate it, might be severely punished for losing it.
The little red bird didn’t share his concerns, and languidly pecked another mouthful of cherry. Cherry juice trickled down to Chen Ziqi’s lips, staining them a moist red colour. After pecking a few more mouthfuls, the little red bird pulled out the cherry seed with its beak, tossed it to the side, and ate the rest of the fruit in one gulp.
The little bird seemed very happy after eating the cherry. It flapped its little wings twice, jumped onto Chen Ziqi’s head, and used its little claws to scratch at his head. “Tweet!” it called.
This cry was markedly different from its usual chirps. It had the crisp quality of Kunshan jade shattering, and reverberated like a plucked harp string. It seemed to pierce through the fog in Chen Ziqi’s brain, allowing him to regain his faculties.
Chen Ziqi’s mind was clear, but his body was still immobile. His lips parted in surprise as he watched the little bird climb into the soft folds of his clothes. It found a comfortable position, stepped around a bit as if it were nesting, then rubbed its head against his chest, curled into a ball, and went to sleep.
The sky-blue ritual robes were made of only one layer, with no underclothes or even a middle layer. The chick was pressed up directly against Chen Ziqi’s skin, and the feeling was a little ticklish. Chen Ziqi wanted to scratch his chest where the bird was, but he couldn’t move. He bit his lip, enduring the itchy feeling. The little bird didn’t make any move, and he eventually got used to the sensation. Chen Ziqi finally gave up, closed his eyes, and went to sleep as well.
Author’s Note: Mini-theater
Birdie Gong: I’ve popped your cherry, and now you’re mine
Qiqi: That sounds wrong
Birdie Gong: Then how should I say this?
Qiqi: Eat my cherry, be my bird
Birdie Gong: Why does that sound vulgar somehow ( · v · )
Beansprout: Had many *brainsplodes* moments translating the ceremony; can the Guoshi be any more cryptic? If you read Chinese, have a look at the raws, and you’ll see what I mean… (¯ ¯٥)
Also, I’ve started calling the mini-scenes “mini-theaters” instead, in response to a comment posted in the previous chapter. That’s a much better translation, thank you!
“Zimo, you don’t look so good today, did you not sleep well the past two days?” Chang Er asked tentatively.
Brown Berry had eaten his fill by then. He set down his chopsticks and sat up straight. “Mother’s body is weak, so I need to take care of her.” He spoke woodenly, and it sounded like he’d been made to practice this answer many times.
Chang Er nodded. Cheng Jieyu had indeed looked unwell earlier that morning when she went to greet the Empress.
“Chang mufei*, next time, can I come to eat here often?” Ah Mu asked timidly, his fat little hands gripping the edge of the table. The servants of Chaoyang palace didn’t treat him badly, but also could not be said to treat him well. It was clear from their cold faces that they found taking care of him to be a thankless task. Ah Mu always felt scared around them, and had no appetite to eat anything.
*T/N: Mufei is how a Prince would address his mother. It means “mother consort” or “mother concubine”. Ah Mu actually isn’t supposed to address Chang Er as mufei, because he’s not her son, adopted or otherwise. However, that he does so shows that he considers her to be his mother, and that he has a good relationship with her.
“Sure, you can come every day if you want,” Chang Er said, reaching to pinch Ah Mu’s plump little face. In Jiuru Town, she had been so poor that there was no way she would have ever considered allowing another child to stay for a meal, but things were different now. As a Jieyu, she was served so much food at every meal that she and Chen Ziqi could never finish it all. She could certainly afford to feed a young child like Ah Mu.
Ah Mu was delighted. From that day on, he followed Chen Ziqi back to Qingyun Palace for lunch every day. Brown Berry would come along occasionally as well, though he didn’t say much when he joined them. Cheng Jieyu also never sent anyone to look for him when he came over.
After fasting and bathing in incense for seven days, it was finally time for the Midsummer Ritual.
This Midsummer Ritual was a custom observed by the Yuzhang Imperial family every year. It was of particular significance in the years when the Crown Prince had yet to be appointed. The legends said that every Emperor of this dynasty was personally selected by God, and there was a possibility that God would select the next Emperor at these Midsummer Rituals.
After being bathed, Chen Ziqi was dressed in the Ritual robes in a room thick with sandalwood incense. The Ritual outfit was a wide-sleeved, sky blue robe made of very soft material. After the belt was fastened, the entire outfit clung to him like a second skin. The only accessory he wore was his Imperial jade pendant, which hung from his waist. He didn’t even wear his usual jade belt – a cyan-coloured rope was used to secure his outfit in place of a real belt. A strip of cloth in the same colour was used to tie his long hair in a loose ponytail behind his back.
Chen Ziqi became increasingly uneasy. No matter how he looked at it, it was obvious that he and the other Princes were the things being sacrificed in this Ritual.
It was sunset when they arrived at Zhanghua Pavilion. The rays of the setting sun bathed the Zhanghua Pavilion in golden light and made the blue Dragonstone glow.
The High Priest was clad in a ceremonial snow-white robe embroidered with silver clouds. The robe had a train that was a foot long, and it was laid out neatly on the ground behind the High Priest. The silver threads glistened in the last rays of the sun, and the High Priest seemed to be surrounded by a halo of light. It was truly captivating sight; the High Priest’s white clothes and glowing halo made him look like a beautiful white peacock with its tail feathers on display.
“The Imperial descendants are all present, and I beseech God to make His divine decision. God above, protect the Dazhang Dynasty,” the High Priest intoned. His voice was cold, and brought to mind the ethereal image of a lone bird singing in a deserted valley.
The Zhenlong Emperor himself did not go up to the Zhanghua Pavilion. He stood below, watching the Princes walk up one by one.
Chen Ziqi stole a look at the Emperor, and saw that he had a slightly guilty expression on his face. This made him even more anxious. No one had told them what they were supposed to do at the altar. Had the Emperor recalled the lost princes so urgently because he was looking for someone to sacrifice in place of the one of the original seven princes?
The eleven princes were seated according to their age in a row behind the High Priest, listening to his measured chanting. Other than the first few sentences, Chen Ziqi couldn’t understand anything at all. He seemed to be speaking in an ancient language that sounded like birds chirping.
The chanting continued until the moon was high in the sky.
“For the Midsummer Ritual, the Son of Heaven ordinarily will Han Tao* through the night in the Zhanghua Temple. As you are only princes and not the Son of Heaven, you will hold cherries instead of peaches in your mouth as a sign of respect,” the High Priest said, gazing at the Zhanghua Temple just behind the Pavilion as he instructed the princes seated behind him.
*T/N: Han Tao, which is also the title of this novel, literally means to “hold a peach in your mouth”. I am not 100% on what the High Priest is saying here, he’s speaking in riddles in the raw. It could either be that if it was the Emperor was doing the ceremony, they would offer peaches instead of cherries, or that if the Emperor was doing the ceremony, it would still be cherries, just that he wouldn’t have to hold the cherries in his mouth. ╮(￣ω￣;)╭
The moment he finished speaking, attendants dressed in white appeared, each bearing a plate of juicy red cherries. One of the attendants walked toward Chen Ziqi. “Dianxia, please select a cherry,” the attendant in white said. The person’s face was covered by a thick white veil, and Chen Ziqi couldn’t make out his or her features.
He looked to his left and right. Every prince had a plate of cherries in front of them. The First and Second Prince had already done this once before, and they picked out a cherry at random without a second thought. Their hands were clasped together just below chest level, with the palm of the right hand cradling the back of the left hand. Their cherries were each placed right in the centre of the palm of the left hand.
The cherries had just been washed, and the little drops of water on them glistened in the moonlight. They looked very enticing to Chen Ziqi, who was parched after standing for an hour. He couldn’t take his eyes off the luscious cherries.
There didn’t seem to be much to choose between the individual cherries, so Chen Ziqi just chose the biggest and reddest one. He imitated the other princes, placing the cherry in his left palm, then surreptitiously took another two fat and juicy cherries from the plate and popped them into his mouth.
The little water droplets on the cherries immediately soothed his parched lips, which were to dry, they felt as if they were about to crack. He bit into the round little fruits, and the juice burst forth in his mouth, coating his tongue with a taste that was sweet and sour all at once. This quenched his thirst, and he felt momentarily refreshed.
This all happened in a split second, and the attendant didn’t have time to react. Since it was too late to stop Chen Ziqi, the attendant chose to simply turn a blind eye. He pulled back the plate of cherries protectively, then bent his head deferentially and left the Zhanghua Pavilion with his white-clad counterparts.
“God will alight upon us soon. Your Highnesses, this way please,” the High Priest said with his eyes closed. He gestured for the Princes to enter the Zhanghua Temple.
Zhanghua Temple was lit by twelve tall candelabra shaped like peacocks. They were made of bronze, and each one could hold thirty-six candles, arranged like the eyes on a peacock’s tail. All twelve candelabra were fully lit on this night, making the temple interior look as bright as day.
Chen Ziqi knelt on the round prayer mat and raised his eyes to look at the image of God on the wall. No one had ever mentioned what Dazhang Dynasty’s god looked like; it seemed that only the Imperial family had any knowledge of this. Everyone else referred to the god as the “Protector-God of the Nation”. Looking at the sculpture on the wall, he felt somewhat cheated. Wasn’t this just a regular dragon-phoenix image*?
*T/N: Dragon-phoenix images are very common in Chinese history. The dragon usually represents the Emperor, and the phoenix represents the Empress.
In the wall sculpture, a dragon and a phoenix were depicted entwined together in the clouds. It was exquisitely made, and looked particularly impressive in the warm candlelight, but it was still, at the end of the day, a regular dragon-phoenix image.
The Zhenlong Emperor and his ministers anxiously watched from below the Zhanghua Pavilion as they did the previous time.
At last year’s Midsummer Ritual, God did not deign to descend, and the Emperor had to painstakingly search for the lost princes among the populace. He wasn’t even sure if he’d managed to find them all. He hoped that nothing would go wrong this time.
The power of the Imperial family had been in decline for some time now, and if God still refused to grace them with His presence today, the next Emperor was likely to meet with even greater difficulties during his reign.
The High Priest continued to stand in the centre of Zhanghua Pavilion, quietly watching the situation in Zhanghua Temple.
A quarter of an hour later, all the candles in the temple suddenly went out. At the same time, the whole of Zhanghua Pavilion was filled with a brilliant white light. Rays of golden light shot out of the Dragonstone, and the faint markings on it took on a rich golden hue. The markings could now be seen to be in the shape of a golden phoenix in flight, encircled by a golden dragon at the sides of the stone. The detail was exquisite; even the individual feathers of the phoenix could be made out.
“God has come,” the High Priest said softly. He knelt, then kowtowed in the direction of Zhanghua Pavilion.
The people of Dazhang knew that today was the day of the Midsummer Ritual, and were all waiting in their yards for this moment. When they saw the brilliant golden light flash from Zhanghua Pavilion, they immediately fell to their knees and kowtowed in prayer.
Chen Ziqi was sitting in Zhanghua Temple and had no idea what had just happened. In the brief instant when the brilliant light from Zhanghua Pavilion illuminated the dark temple, he had caught a glimpse of the red chick hiding in the rafters.
“Chao Tian?” Chen Ziqi said in surprise. The light was too bright, and he had to close his eyes; when he opened them, it was dark again in the temple. All he had to see by was a sliver of moonlight that flowed in from the temple door, which was slightly ajar. Even after his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could only faintly make things out.
The High Priest appeared at the temple door. “Your Highnesses, please place the cherry in your mouth, then go to sleep on the prayer mats,” he instructed.
After the Princes had all put the cherries in their mouths, he walked toward to the dragon-phoenix wall sculpture and took out a very thin stick of incense. He lighted it, and placed it on the incense pot on the altar. He then raised his head very slightly, almost imperceptibly, and looked at the little red chick in the rafters.
Chen Ziqi followed the High Priest’s line of sight. He appeared to be looking at nothing but darkness, but Chen Ziqi knew that that was where the red chick was. He was absolutely certain that the High Priest was looking at that red chick!
The High Priest left Zhanghua Temple thereafter, closing the doors behind him. The whole temple was plunged into darkness. Although small spots of moonlight danced in from the small carvings in the door, the light was too dim to see by.
“Yawn….” Someone yawned in the darkness.
The eldest prince was the most relaxed. He lay down on the mat immediately and went to sleep the moment the door closed. The rest of the princes also nodded off thereafter, toppling onto the prayer mats.
In the frail light, Chen Ziqi could just make out that Ah Mu was next to him, and that he was already dead to the world. He was sleepy too, but he strongly resisted closing his eyes. This urge to sleep came on far too quickly, and something was definitely wrong with it.
He pinched himself hard to keep conscious, then sat up, looking up at the rafters where he last saw the chick.
The little red chick slowly inched out of the shadows and tilted its head as it looked at him. Moonlight shone on the two little crown feathers, casting a long shadow across the temple floor.
Chen Ziqi’s eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. He could no longer resist, and he plopped down onto the prayer mat, looking at the cherry in his hand. The High Priest said that he had to keep it in his mouth and not eat it, but he was worried that he might accidentally swallow it in his sleep. He’d probably choke to death if he did that – this cherry was pretty big. After some thought, he settled on putting the cherry in the pocket formed by his lips and teeth, then closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Chen Ziqi felt like he had only slept for a short while before his eyes flew open again. The little red chick was standing right in front of him. He wanted to reach out to catch it, but he seemed to have been robbed of all his energy. He could only watch as the little chick hopped to the cherry at his lips, tilted its head and pecked at the cherry with its pastel yellow beak.
“Mmph…” Chen Ziqi protested, his eyes widening. He wanted to stop the chick from spoiling the cherry – he only had this one cherry, and if this chick ate it, might be severely punished for losing it.
The little red bird didn’t share his concerns, and languidly pecked another mouthful of cherry. Cherry juice trickled down to Chen Ziqi’s lips, staining them a moist red colour. After pecking a few more mouthfuls, the little red bird pulled out the cherry seed with its beak, tossed it to the side, and ate the rest of the fruit in one gulp.
The little bird seemed very happy after eating the cherry. It flapped its little wings twice, jumped onto Chen Ziqi’s head, and used its little claws to scratch at his head. “Tweet!” it called.
This cry was markedly different from its usual chirps. It had the crisp quality of Kunshan jade shattering, and reverberated like a plucked harp string. It seemed to pierce through the fog in Chen Ziqi’s brain, allowing him to regain his faculties.
Chen Ziqi’s mind was clear, but his body was still immobile. His lips parted in surprise as he watched the little bird climb into the soft folds of his clothes. It found a comfortable position, stepped around a bit as if it were nesting, then rubbed its head against his chest, curled into a ball, and went to sleep.
The sky-blue ritual robes were made of only one layer, with no underclothes or even a middle layer. The chick was pressed up directly against Chen Ziqi’s skin, and the feeling was a little ticklish. Chen Ziqi wanted to scratch his chest where the bird was, but he couldn’t move. He bit his lip, enduring the itchy feeling. The little bird didn’t make any move, and he eventually got used to the sensation. Chen Ziqi finally gave up, closed his eyes, and went to sleep as well.
Author’s Note: Mini-theater
Birdie Gong: I’ve popped your cherry, and now you’re mine
Qiqi: That sounds wrong
Birdie Gong: Then how should I say this?
Qiqi: Eat my cherry, be my bird
Birdie Gong: Why does that sound vulgar somehow ( · v · )
Beansprout: Had many *brainsplodes* moments translating the ceremony; can the Guoshi be any more cryptic? If you read Chinese, have a look at the raws, and you’ll see what I mean… (¯ ¯٥)
Also, I’ve started calling the mini-scenes “mini-theaters” instead, in response to a comment posted in the previous chapter. That’s a much better translation, thank you!
