The Death of Yuli

By Xu Zhenya

An ill-fate lady's love story……

The protagonist of this book is He Mengxia, a primary school teacher. He lived in the home of a distant relative, Cui Shi, and also served as a tutor of his family. Cui Shi has a widowed daughter-in-law, Bai Liying, who was born in a big family. Her son, Peng Lang, was learning from He Mengxia. He Mengxia and Bai Liying fell in love from admiration. However, this was a love that was doomed to be hopeless. Due to her frustration, Bai Liying introduced her sister-in-law Junqian to He Mengxia and forced them to marry by using "the scheme of grafting trees and removing flowers, and the scheme of replacing a plum with a dead peach".

Bai Liying felt sorry for her dead husband. On one hand, she killed herself in order to cut off He Mengxia's feelings for herself. Junqian was a new woman trained by the school. She yearned for free marriage, and was not satisfied with her widowed sister-in-law's arrangement for her marriage. Later, she found out the love between Bai Liying and He Mengxia. She felt that she had killed Bai Liying, so she killed herself. He Mengxia also wanted to die for love, but thought that as a man he should die for state affairs, so he went abroad to study and participated in the Wuchang Uprising after returning home to die for her country.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Great Wall Publishing
• Release date: Mar 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9783757913342

Xu Zhenya

Xu Zhenya, a novelist of the Republic of China. Xu Zhenya’s family name was Jue, styled himself Zhenya. He was born in Changshu, Jiangsu and famous for writing parallel prose novels in the early Republic of China. He was a member of Nanshe and ever studied at Changshu Yunan School in his early years. Later, he mainly engaged in novel creation. He was good at describing the love tragedy of young men and women in gorgeous classical Chinese, and was the main representative writer of the Mandarin Duck & Butterfly School. The representative works include "the Death of Yuli", "History of Snow Hung's Tears", "Wave Ink" and "Acacia". His novels were mainly about romance. In his novel, he often borrowed western novel techniques and was good at writing parallel prose. In 1912, a film "the Death of Yuli" became very popular among the readers at that time, with influence reaching Southeast Asia. It was made into a film in 1924 and adapted into a drama in 1926.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Funeral Flowers

The early morning haze was dreamy and the rising sun shone like a diamond. The sunlight was reflecting on the glass window straightly just in color of rouge. There is a pear tree blossoming outside the window, standing gracefully against the wall, gorgeously shrouding the waning moon, with fragrance chasing the wind. It is as slim and elegant as a fairy maiden dressed with flowing clothes made from white silk, who was still not awakened from her spring dreams, but the wind goddess’s urging talisman had come. The fragrant snow was flowing in profusion, and splendid, as tears scattering. Beauties couldn’t find their true love, with snow covering everywhere, until the ground was completely white as a snowy coat. Such a scene could even be compared to that seen from the top of the jade mountain or in the Moon Palace. On the left of the window, beside the rockery, there was a Magnolia, with tender buds going to blossom, and gorgeous red flower was about to burst fierily, and the dew in the morning was still fresh and not drying, the pressed branch was tender. Its amazingly gracefully stature was willowy, shone in the rising son, like brocade barrier in stone family, dazzling. It was made as if clipped from the goddy and rosy cloud and clothes cut from the sunny silk, which was not enough to describe its enchanting charm. Close to the pear blossom on the east of the wall, standing apart with flowers, one was sobbing in low-spirit while the other smiles sweetly. If both of them open a heaven and an earth respectively in the same realm, then their great radiance differs in emotion and their flourishing and withering differ in experience. If this waning and poor pear blossom is reflecting the ill-fated persons in the world, comparing with the Magnolia who is competing for fascination, posing and showy. How would it be embarrassing to deal with such a compelling situation. The pear blossom petals were wide spread all over the ground, with door open and soul of the flower dying. Who was calling, and, who was straightening it up. Moreover, who was showing his empathy? At that time three or four warblers were singing songs in late spring and fly to the branches, perching, chirping just like hanging flower. In addition, the court was empty, still and solitary. It was only the soft wind that was touching the branch and the debris was flying in the sky, just fighting in vain.

After a while the window was opened, someone who was elegant and unrestrained look out. He looked gloomy, dismal and tired, and seemed to have a sleepless night for worrying about the flowers. He stood against the window, looking straight at the half-withered pear blossom. He said in surprise: Just overnight the east wind has degenerated like this, and why my cute pear blossom is as ill-fated as this! When he said like this, he was heard sighing softly. The Magnolia on the left side of the window was so close to the person inside the window. The sun in the morning gave out dense and fervent light and seemed to smile face to face. The brilliant glow interplayed with clothes, but they gave them the go-by, and seems to be less attentive. Tut-tut! Who was he? Why was he so sentimental for the withered pear flower, moreover, why was he so ruthless for the flower bud of lily magnolia in full bloom. He loved so much for what a man abandoned while abandoned what a man loved. Was he unusually charming in love for non-conformist? Who was he? Mr. Meng Xia in Su Tai.

Sleep in spring, hard to know the morning is coming, but find the birds sing everywhere. Easy to hear the wind and rain at night, hard to know how many flowers fall. These were the poets’ deceiving vocabularies. Set up early for cherishing the flowers while sleeping late at night for loving the moon. These pure languages are composed by the poets. Someone here asks to shut the window to avoid enjoying the moonlight for the spring night will never come again; a long night is not over, however, someone doesn’t know the flowers have been dazzled by the moonlight, but burn the candle, who seems to be a heartless vulgarity. No romantic and sentimental people in the world won’t be passionate about the flowers and moon deeply. Because of their passion, none of them won’t show their cherishing of the flowers and moon. Since the flowers bloom and the moon are full for several times in the four seasons, I ever said that those conceited and affectionate people would fall in love with the black and sweet country, neglect the moon and omit the flowers as a betrayal of the priceless spring time. Meng Xia sojourned in the apartment and stayed in poor countries, without ways to tell the sorrow of the widowers. The favorable companion overcoming my loneliness and the sweet friends defeating my desolation who I could be dependent on are the two flowers in front of the court. These two flowers were taken by Mengxia as the second life, who cherished and protected them for fear of thoughtlessness. In daily life the flowers would be enjoyed from the thick soup with flower petals and at night the flowers would be cherished in her dreams. The color and fragrance of flowers, the soul and shadow of the flowers were constantly enshrouded and coiled up in the heart of Mengxia. At this moment I heard the sad cry of the stray birds and then I put on a dress and got up in a hurry. I tried to recollect the moment when he didn’t get up and thought about the moment when he didn’t sleep. It was because last night is just a full-moon night when thousands of flowers were blooming. It was just at the enjoyable night, when he was away from home. Mengxia could not bear to cast the value of this golden moment and paced up and down in mincing gait under the flowers ignorant of the frequency. He sometimes talked of the flowers and sometimes blessed silently for the flowers. He sighed at the shadow for long time, danced wildly while picking the branches. He walked alone, charmingly naïve. Until the silky pot run of oil, the flowers sleep on the lantern, it was heavily cold late at the night and it’s hard to bear when the cold wind cuts him to the marrow, then he said farewell to the flowers and go to bed. The both eyes of the widower fish open all night, with the soul of the flowers coming. The sleeping devil drove them out and left straight until the east turns white, he never closed her eyes even for a while.

Although Mengxia was emotional, he regarded the flowers as his destiny, he should believe in Philanthropism, why did he focus his emotion on pear blossom and forget about Lily magnolia? Mengxia did not have preference, but shew special favor to pear blossom. Mengxia lodged in this house just for twenty days. At the beginning he didn’t witness the blooming of pear blossom, on the branches with rain, shrivelled and depressed. All the petals are gone, faded and fallen with the wind. If the flowers are emotional, they welcomed Mengxia, the emotional heroine, suddenly restraining their sobbing face and smiling. Mengxia came to this place with no kin to turn to, worn by the journey. With her miserable life experience and bleak career, he met these pernicious pear flowers for no reason. Their feelings of mutual-pity are like magnetic needle and Tang Rong’s conformity. Just at that time the rouge is initially dyed and the bees and butterflies are ignorant and tender, afraid to be enjoyed by people, deeply worried about the daily loss. The peaches are shy and the apricots are yielding, all of them are charming, appealing, flirty and attractive. Mengxia is seldomly neglecting them for comparing with the pear blossoms, although they are lovely, the pear blossoms are delicate and touching. Mengxia is depressed with little enthusiasm, grieved and sorrowful, always in a haggard and lonely state, not accustomed to the luxury and noises. If their great concern about the flowers is beyond the surface feeling, their spirit of protecting the flowers are not without partiality.

At that moment, Mengxia opened the window and saw the snow on the branch fade and the sleep trace on the ground, in endless whiteness, with ache in eyes when it strikes the eyes. Mengxia cared about the flowers and got up early and then the flowers had abandoned Mengxia and died for ever. Mengxia gazed into it for long and balked back to the room. He went out of the left room and walked up to the steps of garden around the cloister. He tread on the snow and crushed it, with fragrance at each step, went straight to the side of the tree. He held the tree with arms and cried: Where is the soul of my charming pear flowers? Mengxia came. How evil is their fate. Taking root to the lonely world with nobody, and the gates are closed, with east wind locked closely, neither desiring for other’s understanding nor inviting others to enjoy, but forming prompt ties with my poor and sad guests. I never saw the blooming of flowers and I just came when the flowers fell. Inclined to seek the flowers but it is too late to look for. How evil is the fate of the flowers, my fate is but eviler than its fate! If I came here several days earlier, then when it is sudden blooming, there are dots of jade scales, blossoming out into a plain beauty. When the moon at the night welcomed the wind, I leaned on a balustrade lonely and enjoyed the fragrance and color of the flowers. If I came late for several days, then the flowers must have been blown by the wind and splashed by the rain, the jade will be broken and the pearl will be sunk, with no shadow left, remaining fragrance will be hard to find. Though in face of the empty branches I am more sentimental, it is but the aftermath thoughts, which is not able to overcome the present melancholy. Then I don’t know why it is not before me or not after me, when we meet, it’s time to part. Fate doomed that if there is any reversal and combination, random traction, the moon would not become the partner of the blinding eyes, but act as the heartbroken media for the spring. It’s cool! The monarchy Eastern Emperor forces the flowers to survive by means of the wind power, and force me fall into a sad situation by means of the dying flower soul. I am going to ask the heaven to tend and inquire the Bi Weng[1] why I am so confused like this! Even the fiend of the incense country exerts his means of devastation to spread a pernicious influence on the world of spring!

Alas! Mengxia was nearly infatuated with the flowers, which could really understand the languages and talk incessantly? The flowers withered on the land would never be expected to climb the branches, while the hurricane was rampant and increases Meng Xia’s sadness by taking advantage of her broken soul. Then the wind was blowing and beating wildly the remanent flowers with no end to fall. The rustling flowers fell like sudden and heavy rain, with petals flying in disorder and the sleeves are almost full for them. Mengxia fondled the empty branches by upper arm and treaded on the remanent snow. It was unconsciously relentless heart-broken and choke with sobs. Tears were running incessantly, falling with the broken jade. He shouted in a loud voice: How! How! If the flowers know, when they heard of Mengxia’s crying, their soul would be awakened by him. They got up to dance of return wind for Mengxia. If they could sense her infatuation, and still begged for mercy from the dead. Mengxia said to herself: As the host of the flowers, I should take the responsibility of protecting them. Now I witness their tragedy of devastation, I am glad to but powerless to render assistance. Then to culminate it after the flowers die, who can take the heavy responsibility except me? How can I bear to allow them to be stained with sludge and fall into the toilet, wondering helplessly? So I slowly flapped the petals on the clothes and turned back to the room and hoed out with my package. All the way I gather up solicitously and put them into the bag. I walked and swept while crying for about half a day and built a pile of snow, which were all taken by Mengxia as his attainment. Mengxia shouldered the bag full of flower petals and offered up them on the desk? Or hide them in the box? Then the remains of the flowers were still in the world, though free from sludge temporally, without result in other day. Would he throw it to the tank? But the land was not a garden, where should I seek for a pool of clean water. Mengxia was eager to find a way of placement, but hesitate again and again without a proper way. He suddenly realized that Ms Lin Pin[2] buried the flowers and a thousand years’ of legend was derived. Burying them under a piece of land as the incense mound will be taken as the model of mine today. Lessons learned from the past could guide one in the future. The sentimental people should be full of tenderness or affection like this. Why I should be stingy about lifting a finger to help and don’t take full responsibility for them, but be laughed by Ms Lin Pin? He said pleasantly after finishing her words: I can comfort a bosom friend by acting." Then he stopped crying pleasantly and held a flower hoe by her arm. He shouldered a flower hoe and strolled to the side of the stones of the artificial hill high-spiritually.

Alas! Alas! Have a short dream in a haste to awaken the east wind; Remote lovesickness turned into hate in the southern land. Until the end of time, the poor people will meet here at that time; the bee worries and the butterfly resents, what is the heartbreaker’s attachment? When Mengxia reached the side of the artificial hill stone, he found a clean sphere. Hoe it into a cellar and then hold them in the flower bag. Then cover them with sub-soiling to make it protrude for recognition later on. When finishing arranging, enter into the room and take the glass cup frequently used on the desk and pour out a little liquid, then go to the grave again and spray the surrounding of the grave. At that time, a color of sadness suddenly emerged unexpectedly. He suddenly felt her husband’s destiny of floating like a duckweed, just like that of the flowers. The flowers of misfortune still get cherishment and deep pity from me, a fool, who collect their gorgeous bone and tell the fortune of the grave. Make a grave in a haste for them, whose soul gets house. One may well say it is the fortune of the flowers. However, I am frustrated for half a lifetime and live in a desolate house, rely on others, of uncertain whereabouts, with no chance to meet Ziqi. Time went by like flowing water, who knew today was tomorrow morning. I have no future, also embarrassed to look back. I was born out of my time, poor of my life, who knows Fang Qian after death? So I chant aloud Ms Pin’s I was laughed and called as a fool for burying flowers today, who buries me in the future? I feel sad for a touch in the heart, with a sense of fleeting time: the flowers in spring is easy to get old, the Universe is merciless. I lament that there is no end of time. I expect to meet bosom friend, but it is as far as the cloud. Facing this bleak future, many thoughts crowded in upon me. Sigh with desolate emotion, I don’t know where the tears and mucus flow. Ms. Pin, who buried flowers in the fragrant grave has an infatuated Bao Yu as her company, Now Mengxia continued Ms. Pin’s action here lonely, but where is Ms. Pin now? Who is laughing at Mengxia’s infatuation? Who was showing her compassion to Mengxia while who was accompanying her for tears? Mengxia’s confidant was but the flower buried in this grave. Mengxia was sad, tears in his eyes, crying and calling back the spirit of the flowers: The flowers in the grave, three-generations fond illusions, should I awake? Or not? How short is your life, and how long is my hatred. A touch of fragrant mud can soothe your bones; A clump of fragrant grass can accompany your soul; A cup of miserable wine can be made as your offerings. A song by a sad bird can be taken as the condole for you. Do you know or don’t you know? Alas! Alas! The old grace are now in vain, but I am sad about the purity is still in the dirty world. In the Swallow House I cannot bear to look back on those old days, just leave the name of Pan Pan. Does the Peony Pavilion really resurrect? Who sees the shadow of Pavilion? However, who heard the screech which swallows the moon? Wenjun is doomed to return to Han Dynasty; The finger print is left on the ring, the jade flute practice the promise of regeneration. If the flowers knows and feels, then when the spring comes back in next year, I should first wear the east wind, and bear peculiar flowers early to compensate my deep attachment and soothe my wishful desire. Mengxia is choked with sobs. Experienced for half a day, I am heart-broken and tired in spirit, moreover, I am never peaceful to sleep last night. After experiencing this acute pain, I am almost collapsed and return to my room. There are nobody in front of the garden, but a foot of new grave. Around her there are tear stains, which seeps into the mud, stuck together.

[1] It means the God.

[2] Here it refers to Daiyu Lin in The Dream of Red Mansion.

CHAPTER TWO

Night Crying

As the spring drew on in the garden, the branch of the tree was pruned till the full light of day, with wisps of smoke rising from kitchen chimneys, swaying in the sky. It’s time to cook a variety of millet. Since Mengxia got up in the morning, he went below the tree, Picking up flowers, burying the flowers, crying for the flowers makes me exhausted and weakened, staying here for half a day. After entering into the room, I am tired and sleepy, but the hall boy took lunch to come. After a while I finished the meal, drunk a cup of tea to awaken my poetic spleen. I make a circuit in the room for several weeks and still stand and lean on the window, when Magnolia is blossoming, fighting for the sunshining and bright sunlight. The color of the flowing clouds suddenly touches her eyes. Mengxia sighed, in face of it: What kind of flowers is it, so splendid? Relying on the east wind, showing off and flattering, 160feets of springtime is almost occupied by the water. It is well known that the famous flowers are easy to become old and Every day is not Sunday. Later on aunt Yi applied the carrot and stick judiciously, with brutal measure, taken extremely unbiased. This flower is advertised by her, but will still be devastated by her. Later on he will be perished together with the flowers in the grave. Ten thousand scarlet branches are but bits of blood and tears. Mengxia meditated alone, with eyes full of leisurely sorrow. I free myself from frustration and sit at the desk, spread a piece of paper and twist my writing brush, and compose two poems:

My exquisite feelings fall into the barren village,

The flowers fall as the spring draws on, I close the door in the day.

Do you know somebody spill tears with me,

I am ecstasy when asking the water without an answer.

The powder mark is to be melted, still with love for fragrance,

What does jade bone rely on while the dream is still not warmed.

The prince’s descendants don’t return while the goddess of frost left.

It’s a pity to be unworthy of a good evening.

Extract the embryo of orchid with too splendid color,

Fight with the spring flowers in the Palace of the gods.

When the morning dew on the branch becomes wet,

The east wind in the next garden is waiting for the message far away.

Secret letter written with characters embroidered on tapestry with thousands points of blood.

Haze pattern protects a veil deeply.

It’s a shame to write the red title without Jiang Lang’s writing brush,

Which is not appropriate to sing of this flower today.

Once finished, I recite once again and pause and ponder, idle away aimlessly. Then I chant that though the fragrant soul has a conversion, there is no expression and recognition in the new grave, I could not have no regret at the heart. What Mengxia is good at as the skill of Dragon Carving, is to take a piece of white stone and polish it, site at the desk and wield a butcher’s knife with rhythmic skill, and finish within two hours. It is written with the following characters:

Fragrant grave burying pear flowers

Inscribed by Qing Ling misanthrope In March of the 46th year of the Sexagenary Cycle.

Order the Hall boy to hold it and put it to stand before the grave. However, Mengxia is really tired and fall asleep deeply, without news about the sunsetting.

The Golden Crow disappears without a trace, while the pearl oyster opens its fetus. One day it is cool, with billowing water around the ground. Until Meng Xia is awake, the moon is moving the shadow of the flowers to climb up to rail. The clock strikes ten on the wall. The moonlight penetrates into the net, illuminating the decorative pattern on the quilt and pillow. At that time it feels cooler, Mengxia sat wrapped in a quilt, intended to continue the remaining dream, when he hears faint whimper without being informed what has come in. Mengxia is surprised very much, with sleepy eyes open, suddenly sober. Hearkening to investigate the direction transmitted by the sound waves, it is found to come from outside the window. Some crying and swallowing sounds are so sad and sorrowful, suspended or continued, with heartbeat grieved. Mengxia is startled and terrified, surmise in silence that there is no trace of human, so who comes here to cry sorrowfully late at night. Alas! Alas! I definitely know it must be the soul of pear blossom. It nearly senses my attachment of burying the bone of the flowers, and accompany me for pacifying my loneliness when the moon is bright and people are quiet. Hi, ladies and gentlemen, this is but Mengxia’s ideal, in fact it is absolutely not the reality.

Mengxia suddenly becomes emboldened and see what it is on earth. He dresses for looking for shoes, and crept to the window, half exposed on the glass to peep out. He caught sight of a girl below the pear trees, in silk dress, standing gracefully erect. He had even refrained form putting on rouge, but behave with grace and ease, of leisure attitude, he tread on air, felt that he was in paradise. At that time there is a flood of translucent moonlight, a dim light of night. The decoration at the eye tail on the cheeks is easy to tell. Is that the incarnation of the real pear blossoms? After seeing that he knitted her beautiful eyebrows, caress the tree and cry, with tears on her face, lowing down her bun-type hairdo, slim waist to be folded. Her cry is lingering and sentimental, flowing desolately, just like the crying of lonely phoenix for the moon or like the call of the young geese for crowds. For a short while the perching birds on the branch heard of the crying and startled. Crying for long time, I suddenly saw a girl wipe her tears with a towel and gaze at the ground with neck hung, surprised very much. Then glancing back around, he seems to see the inscriptional record on the tablet, and turned her slender waist around, walked to here with fine pace. Now he went before the grave, and rub the inscriptions on the tablet with fibrous palm, then nod again. Continuing to make a circuit of the grave, then he frown and meditate for a while, and then cry again. This crying is more grieved than before, sobbing and whimpering, piercing. Coincidentally, it is similar to Ms. Pin’s crying for burying the flowers. At that time Mengxia’s distance with the girl is but two or three foot of ground. Below the bright moon, the hair on the temple and the eyebrows and sock trace and the skirt pleat are so crystal clear in her eyes, she is an incomparable beauty of 20more years old. Mengxia are amazed by her elegance and bright-color, and sensed her infatuation, with pity on her leisurely snow beauty with bones of jade. How can he bear such night coldness and intoxication of soul and mind and there are countless incredible phenomena in her mind. Suddenly hearing of a clank, Mengxia was jolted out of her reverie as if wakening from a dream, by the clank from touching the glass with her forehead unconsciously in a trance. When he wanted to see the girl, who disappeared, but left with cold wind, a cold moon in succession, close to the weather in the third watch. Against his will, he went to bed again. Mengxia didn’t tell the writer of this book whether he could sleep in peace. To measure her mind, we should chant the three chapter of Singing Water Cock.

Alas! Why did the girl come? Why did the girl cry? Why did she cry so painful? Did she cry for the flowers? Or cry for the grave? Or suffer for other causes? I know the girl must be as ill-fated as the pear blossom and as infatuated as Mengxia. Her crying is but crying for herself by means of the blossom. Alas! Mengxia is so lucky for in such a vast cosmos, there is someone showing empathy and accompany her tears! Deeply hated by Xiaoxiang, there will be no end to the disaster. Hard stone turns back, which can be proved by the three lives of rebirth. So the wonderful encounter at this night is the beginning of Mengxia’s entry into the dream.

Ladies and gentlemen, who do you know this girl is on earth? This girl is not the soul of pear blossom, but the shadow of pear blossom. This ill-fate girl and romantic Mengxia are all the heroine of the book. Before getting informed of the background of this girl, we should know the whereabouts of Mengxia first.

Mengxia’s family name is He, and her given name is Ping, her alias is Misanthrope Qingling, her nationality is Taihu Lake of Suzhou. When he was born, her mother dreamed a piece of colorful cloud flying from the sky down to earth, so she gave him Mengxia as his name. From a family of scholar, a distinguished family, his father is a scholar, gave birth to a daughter, two sons. The eldest son is named Jian Qing, the second son is Mengxia. His parents loved him specially for he was born with dream and strangeness. Double pearl and Two Jades brought honor to the family and impressed all the relatives, who gave an unceasing praise. When Mengxia was young, noble and unsullied, he shew up prominently. Following his brother, book in arm, two horn braids, very great in his childhood, famous for child prodigy, more outstanding when he grew up, and was called as gifted scholar. His father saw Mengxia and said gladly: At the birth of this son, we enjoy the happiness of our later years. There is no more joy in the world. His father was indifferent to fame, and regarded Mengxia as the extraordinary achievement. Don’t want him to work for the imperial examinations and enter into the Vanity Fair. Then Mengxia had the chance to dedicate in ancient poetry and diction, in addition to the legend and unofficial history, with mind opened widely. Among all the books, he specially prefered to the Story of Stone, which was never far away from his desk and pillow. He was born with intelligence, and planted the seed of love in his heart; he has been melancholy and moody since he was a very young child, so he is always unhappy. He who is talented is always affectionate, a lot of love is always accompanied by a lot of sorrow. The Story of Stone was written in talented diction, with deep affection and much sorrow. Mengxia is talented, affectionate and sorrowful. Whenever he opened a book, he would worry for the ancient people and complain for the infatuated people. Mango in spring and wild goose at night, moon in the evening and wind in the morning, it was not known that how much he had hed blood and tears for Baoyu and Daiyu’s deep love and ill-fate, but he deeply regretted that Daiyu buried the flowers to repose sorrow and resentment, and burnt the manuscripts to interrupt her infatuation. He cherished deeply her talents and ill-fate, deep hatred and lasting affection. Sometimes it seems to be an absurd and strange, leisureliness fancy, expected that in the world there must be someone who is similar with her. In her spare time, he tried to act as the roles in the books, from Shi Taijun to Ms. Idiot, to sum up their deeds, it can be connected by a poem, written in gorgeous pen and fragrant ink, overwhelmed with joy for a whole life. Her dear friend called upon her and said: When will the infatuated young man be cultivated? You have the heart of admiration, which is taken by you as the cause and effect, and I am afraid you would fall into the Grand Sight Garden, to experience all the sufferings. Mengxia knew that he was satirizing her, and he would laugh it off. Alas! I don’t know her friend’s words would come true finally after several years, a piece of paper with trace of tears is unexpectedly taken as the love ticket.

Ten years’ frustration and mishaps, the hoof of the frost falls, a scroll of chanting buries the snow case. Though Mengxia belittles scholarly honor of official rank, he has ever taken part in the Children’s test, he failed in depression and boredom. He just cries in Changsha in vain. Just at the moment of political reformation, the young students all abandoned their old business and sought for new learning. They carry a hat with a handle to run for school, in a mad rush to be the first. Mengxia bid farewell to her parents, and dropped out from Liangjiang Normal School, and at last graduated summa cum laude, when he is coming of age at 20. Her elder sister married Yang Family which lived in the Hongnong Prefecture, go home on leave. Jian Qing also married a woman and would give birth to a child. Her parents would divine marriage for Mengxia and fulfill Xiangping’s will. Mengxia is specially not willing. Asking her for the reason, he gave no answer. Insisting asking her, he burst into tears. Her parents doubt that