Opium

The autumn rain pattered gently, and the funeral hall, already poorly lit, felt even darker, damp, and cold. The courtyard gates were opened wide, waiting for mourners to come, but after more than two days, apart from Bi Qingtang and Uncle Chen, no one else had burned incense for her uncle.

In truth, whether living or dead, solitude is both freedom and hardship. As Tan Yang placed paper money in the brazier, tears spilled down uncontrollably. A life of wandering, a lifetime of desolation—her uncle was as lonely in death as he was in life.

The glow from the brazier illuminated Tan Yang’s face; her tears flickered with the flames. Draped in mourning clothes, she resembled a moth, the trembling fire an agony she could hardly bear; caught between fluttering toward and fleeing from it, she hesitated. Bi Qingtang felt momentarily dazed, as if transported back to Tongli three years ago, the intervening years hollowed out and empty, leaving him unnerved. Yet with Tan Yang before him, he felt those three years had meaning, that thirty years had ties—he had truly walked this world. He crouched, wiped her tears with a cotton handkerchief, and comforted her softly, “Little sister, don’t cry. From now on, you have me.” Bi Qingtang paused abruptly; the words and gesture felt as if they belonged to three years past, now finally spoken, now finally done.

That afternoon, the rain intensified. The young manager from the Li family’s silk shop arrived hurriedly with several assistants. Tan Yang kept her head down and noticed mud stains on his long robe—he must have come in haste. “Miss Tan, such a grave matter—why didn’t you send someone to inform us? I’ve brought some people to help. My parents will come as soon as they close the shop.” He was fair-skinned, slender, gentle, and clean—a young man not yet old, but accustomed since childhood to dealing with customers, seasoned and careful in speech.

Tan Yang weighed her options; she wished to avoid entanglement with him. But to break off the engagement before the altar, would that not be disrespectful to the deceased? Her hesitation puzzled the young man. Just then, Bi Qingtang stepped forward, appearing as a well-intentioned mediator, though it was unclear whose feelings he was protecting. “Young master, your timing is perfect. There are matters that need your decision,” he said, gesturing him outside. The young man turned, then returned, bent low, and whispered, “Miss Tan, please accept my condolences. Don’t let grief harm your health.” Tan Yang nodded in reply. At that moment, he saw her face clearly; his own flushed instantly. No matter how skilled he was in business, he was still young—delight and excitement were written all over him. He lingered, grinning foolishly, before finally leaving with Bi Qingtang. Bi Qingtang’s face darkened as soon as they stepped outside.

After some time, Bi Qingtang returned and announced, “He’s gone.” Pausing briefly, he added, “I said everything you wanted to say. He won’t be back!” He hoped to see Tan Yang relieved, but instead she frowned, worried. This left Bi Qingtang frustrated and nearly sick with suppressed anger.

That evening, as Bi Qingtang prepared to leave, Tan Yang walked him to the alley. She was silent, lost in thought. Since she didn’t speak, neither did Bi Qingtang, feeling awkward.

He opened the car door with a grim face, saying only, “I’m leaving.” “Big brother,” Tan Yang started, as if she wanted to say something but hesitated. Bi Qingtang, displeased, pressed her, “If you have something to say, just say it. Why be so hesitant?” She steeled herself, looked at him, and said, “Big brother, could you lend me some money?” Bi Qingtang took out his wallet, “How much?” Tan Yang replied, struggling, “I’m afraid this won’t be enough. Uncle must have received quite a bit of betrothal money from the Li family.” Bi Qingtang paused, suddenly understanding—her worry was about money. His mood brightened and he stepped out of the car again. “I checked—the betrothal money was little, and the Li family’s young master said he didn’t want it back.” Tan Yang pressed her hand to her chest, visibly relieved. Bi Qingtang laughed, tapping her forehead lightly with his fingertip, “It was only worth that much, and you’re happy about it?” Tan Yang lowered her head, tugged at her sleeve, and said nothing. Who knows who was truly happy at that moment?

Bi Qingtang suddenly felt reluctant to leave, standing before the car, smiling at Tan Yang for a long time. Eventually, Tan Yang said gently, “Big brother, you’ve worked hard these past days for uncle’s affairs. Go home and rest early.” Bi Qingtang nodded, “You should sleep early too!” Before getting in the car, he squeezed her palm, “I’ll come tomorrow.” On his way home, Bi Qingtang wondered how he ended up bickering with the little girl again, when did he become so petty?

Bi Qingtang found the burial site, and Tan Yang didn’t ask much. On the day of the interment, she was startled—it was a joint burial. The adjacent tombstone read “Grave of Lady Wang, Bi Hanhui’s Wife.” Tan Yang turned to Bi Qingtang, who explained, “My aunt. It must have been the wish of both elders.” Tan Yang thought for a moment, “Did you tell uncle that if he let me meet you, you’d fulfill his wish to share a grave with your aunt?” Bi Qingtang nodded, admitting it openly. Tan Yang felt uneasy, though she couldn't say why.

On the way back, Tan Yang asked, “Big brother, why weren’t your aunt and uncle buried together?” Bi Qingtang sighed, “Ah, uncle loved aunt and wanted that, but after he passed, his children buried him with their own mother. We, the Bi family, couldn’t interfere in others’ affairs. Besides, I think aunt might not have wished it either,” he paused, then continued, “So I believe a man must have a child with the woman he loves. Even if it’s not for family lineage as the ancestors say, or a ‘crystal of love’ as the West calls it, it should fulfill his final wish in this world.” After speaking, he held her hand; he didn’t speak of romance, but expressed his true heart. He hoped she would understand, though he wasn’t sure how much such deep and weighty words could mean to a girl of seventeen or eighteen.

After a busy day, they dined at a Shandong restaurant; for the two of them, Shandong had a special significance—a way of remembering their elders. As they got out of the car, an old man in dirty silk clothes stopped Bi Qingtang. Gaunt and tearful, the old man pleaded, “Boss Bi, please, lend me some opium. I can’t go on.” Bi Qingtang’s assistant quickly pulled the old man aside as Bi Qingtang led Tan Yang into the restaurant. Tan Yang looked back, “Big brother, won’t you lend him some?” Bi Qingtang kept walking, replying coldly, “Lend? How? If I lend him today, tomorrow ten more will come. It’s not the opium I lack, it’s rules!”

“What’s so good about opium?” Tan Yang muttered softly, thinking of her uncle and feeling sad. Bi Qingtang, walking ahead, didn’t notice her expression and replied, “Good? No matter how good something is, if it shouldn’t be touched, then it mustn’t be touched. Without self-control, he deserves to suffer!” Hearing this, Tan Yang angrily shook off Bi Qingtang’s hand, her eyes filling with tears. Bi Qingtang quickly turned, remembering the funeral he’d just attended, regretting his words. He gently comforted her, “Little sister, big brother misspoke. Don’t be upset.” Though Bi Qingtang apologized, Tan Yang knew he was right—it was only a slip of the tongue, so she didn’t hold it against him.

A few days later, while talking, Bi Qingtang blurted out, “Little sister, you are opium!” Tan Yang recalled they’d discussed opium days before, but couldn’t remember the details.

When sorting through Feng Kang’s belongings, Tan Yang was astonished to find her uncle had been quite wealthy—over five hundred silver dollars and a gold bar. Over the years, the family savings in Shandong should have been depleted; her uncle neither produced nor worked, and smoked opium for years. Where did all this money come from? Beside the money was an account book, but it was new, with no record of the source, only notes on expected wedding expenses for Tan Yang. Reading it carefully, she wept.

Not only had the old man not taken much betrothal money from the Li family, he had prepared a generous dowry for his niece. Besides the eighty silver dollars accumulated from rental income in Tongli over three years, he planned to add another hundred and twenty, making a tidy sum for her dowry. The family’s own money had not been touched; these years, Feng Kang used his own funds to provide for his niece’s living and education. Seeing the expenses her uncle had prepared for her wedding, Tan Yang was startled—such an arrangement was rare even for the wealthiest families. Even if her parents were alive, they couldn’t have managed so much. No wonder, during the period her uncle confined her, Mrs. Wu often lamented in her ear that the old master must have received a lot of betrothal money from the Li family. “Miss, you don’t know, look at the furniture in the courtyard—all top-grade rosewood. The craftsmen say they usually work for the rich in Shanghai, never for ordinary families like ours!”

Tan Yang cried all night. She had always known her uncle loved her, but she hadn’t realized she had underestimated that love.

After finishing the family business, Tan Yang went to register at Diligence High School, a week late. The school, seeing the black cloth on her left arm, didn’t ask much. At noon, she inquired about Zhao Ling’s office, only to be told the teacher was on maternity leave. After school, Bi Qingtang happened to be waiting at the gate, about to ask how she was adapting to the new school. Tan Yang cut him off, “Big brother, did you know? Sister Ling had her baby!” Bi Qingtang opened the car door, motioning for her to get in, and replied calmly, “Oh? Is that so?” As if it was expected, not matching Tan Yang’s excitement.

“How so soon? She only married in March—isn’t it premature?” Bi Qingtang glanced at Tan Yang, stroking his chin with a smile. “Let’s go see them, just in case.” Tan Yang pressed on. “We can visit, but don’t mention ‘premature birth’ every other word, all right?” Seeing her confusion, Bi Qingtang suddenly wrapped her shoulder and laughed heartily, “My silly little sister! Why do you think they rushed to marry? Precisely for the early birth!”

Tan Yang thought for a while; suddenly her face and ears turned bright red. She lowered her head, uneasy, mumbling, “Don’t say such things.” Seeing her adorable embarrassment, Bi Qingtang grew serious, speaking earnestly, “Don’t worry, we’re not like them. That’s not right.” This made Tan Yang even more uncomfortable; catching a glimpse of the driver’s smile in the rearview mirror, she wished she could jump out of the car then and there.

Bitan Chronicles 1816_Bitan Chronicles Full Free Reading_18 (16) Opium update complete!