Chapter Thirty: Countless Blossoms Fall on a Rainy Night

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That day, Dog Lord was once again wandering through the deserted village. Whenever he saw a passing woman, he would approach her with a grin and strike up a conversation, sometimes even telling her that he wanted to sleep with her. There was nothing anyone could do about Dog Lord. The village lay far beyond the reach of imperial authority—who could possibly restrain such a man?

That day, Dog Lord once again sat outside Shao Qiu’s house. First he urinated beside the kitchen, then he shouted a curse at the sky, hoping to provoke Shao Qiu into a fight. Dog Lord believed that even if he killed Shao Qiu, no one would consider it unacceptable. Some might even give him a thumbs-up. That was all Dog Lord wanted.

Shao Qiu remained inside his house, afraid to come out. He merely read his books while Dog Lord hurled abuse at him outside for no reason. When he could bear it no longer, he slung a hoe over his shoulder and went up the mountain to work the fields.

Seeing Shao Qiu leave for the mountain, Dog Lord stopped harassing him. Instead, he sat outside the house and began playing cards with the villagers. No one dared offend him. Even when Dog Lord lost money, they did not dare collect it; they would all hurriedly return it to him.

By evening, Shao Qiu came down from the mountain, just as the setting sun was about to disappear beyond the hills. He had returned so late only to avoid Dog Lord and escape further trouble. Dog Lord, however, showed no sign of leaving. A woman stood silently beside him, occasionally kneading his shoulders. As for Dog Lord’s wandering hands, she merely pretended not to notice. His hands roamed over her body while the onlookers laughed and cheered, their cries of approval growing louder by the moment.

Shao Qiu ate his supper, lit a kerosene lamp, and resumed reading beneath its light.

The woman had spent the whole day being pawed at by Dog Lord. Her husband was sitting nearby, not only failing to stop it but treating it as an honor. He merely pretended not to see. No one seemed to think him shameful. Instead, they crowded around to offer him cigarettes, as though he were some great and important person.

When the card game ended, the woman no longer allowed Dog Lord to touch her. She whispered something in his ear, and the moment she finished, he readily agreed. Dog Lord kicked open the door to Shao Qiu’s house, strode inside, and let out a great shout.

The woman burst out laughing and left without another glance, lest trouble fall upon her as well. After all, the whole affair was inauspicious. The woman was none other than Aunt Hua. She had done this because she wanted to use Dog Lord’s hands to teach Shao Qiu a lesson and prevent him from doing anything harmful to Little Blossom.

“Although there has been some unpleasantness between us, that is all in the past. You have hardly suffered any loss. Why must you keep tormenting me and make it impossible for me even to read in peace?” Shao Qiu asked, his face exceedingly grim.

“Well…” Dog Lord knew he was in the wrong and had nothing more to say. He kicked Shao Qiu’s writing desk once, then retreated.

Outside, the night had fallen utterly silent. Only Mount Gehlimu still watched over the deserted village, as though sighing softly in sorrow.

Aunt Hua returned home and inevitably quarreled with Uncle Hua again. Uncle Hua was deeply upset. His wife had been pawed over by Dog Lord in full view of everyone, and what husband could remain unaffected by such a thing? Naturally, he was furious. Yet he could not say so aloud. If he had not allowed it, why would Dog Lord have been willing to help him?

Uncle Hua had considered handling the matter himself, but what if he lost the fight? Then everything would be over. If he could not even defeat a scholar, everyone else would surely regard him as worthless.

Thus, in his eyes, the safest course was to ask Dog Lord to act while pretending not to know what was happening. But after doing such a thing, how could anyone understand the misery he felt when he returned home to face Aunt Hua?

“I don’t want to live anymore!” Uncle Hua cried. He held a knife to his throat, intending to end his life.

“What does it matter?” Aunt Hua coaxed him desperately. “We did it all for Blossom. Even if we suffer a tremendous loss, we need not fear it, do we?”

Had she not said those words, Uncle Hua might truly have departed this world.

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“I feel wretched inside! What kind of world is this?” Uncle Hua howled. Hearing him, Little Blossom remained in her room, quietly shedding tears.

Night descended, and the deserted village once again grew still.

The river flowed eastward. Above, the stars flickered incessantly, as though pondering some difficult question.

Just then, Uncle Hua heard someone knocking at the door. The sound began low and dull, then rose into a shrill clamor, carrying an inexplicable menace. Who could be knocking at such a late hour? Anyone who appeared at a time like this had to be a criminal—or what other explanation could there be? Uncle Hua could not help growing afraid.

“Sister-in-law, open the door,” the person outside called. The voice sounded like that of a thief or a ghost, and merely hearing it made one deeply uneasy.

“Who is it? What brings you here so late at night?” Aunt Hua asked.

Of course, she already knew who it was. The question was merely a formality.

“He’s here,” Uncle Hua whispered. His voice was so faint that he could scarcely hear it himself.

The door opened, and the visitor was none other than Dog Lord. He wore only a tattered pair of underpants. The lamplight was dim; otherwise, everything beneath them would have been plainly visible.

“Come in, come in. Please, sit down,” Aunt Hua said warmly. Yet she was deeply unhappy. She had no choice, for who would willingly meet with such a man?

Dog Lord sat down in Uncle Hua’s house. To spare himself further distress, Uncle Hua actually slipped outside, claiming that the cattle on the mountain had gone missing and that he needed to search for them. The moment he left the house, his anger mounted. If he did not vent it somehow, he felt he might go mad on the spot. All of this was Shao Qiu’s fault. Had Shao Qiu not offended Dog Lord, he would never have been reduced to such humiliation.

“Damn it, no. I have to settle accounts with that bastard. Dog Lord has given me all this anger, and I’ll take it out on Shao Qiu’s head!” Uncle Hua thought.

Shao Qiu, meanwhile, was naturally inside his own house. Even if the place were haunted, he could not possibly go outside. Rain was falling, and it was growing heavier by the minute, so he had no choice but to remain in the dilapidated house. At night, ghostly cries could often be heard from Mount Gehlimu. If he went out alone and happened to encounter something, the consequences would be dreadful.

For the moment, he would simply remain in this haunted house.

Just then, someone began pounding on his door. The force and ferocity of the blows were unprecedented, as though nothing of the kind had occurred since the creation of the world. Shao Qiu could not imagine what had provoked such hatred. Still, since someone was knocking, he could hardly refuse to open the door.

When he did, a fierce wind came roaring inside. It was cold enough to make anyone sick, but what else could he do? The matter had already reached this point.

Shao Qiu pulled open the door. At first he saw no one. Then, a moment later, he glimpsed a masked figure standing before him. The figure appeared only for an instant, wavering away like moonlight, and then vanished. Shao Qiu remained troubled for a long while. Had he been mistaken? Or had a ghost truly appeared?

He patted his chest. People said that doing so could calm one’s fright. Afterward, the terror in his heart gradually faded. Perhaps there really was some truth to the old belief.

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Seeing no one, Shao Qiu closed the door again. Yet his mood had become thoroughly miserable. If the house was haunted and he had actually seen a ghost, then why did he remain there? What else could it mean but that he was a fool?

No, perhaps that was unfair. A destitute scholar such as himself—where could he go at such a time? He had no choice but to stay.

After Uncle Hua had disguised himself as a ghost and frightened Shao Qiu, his spirits improved considerably. He no longer cared that Dog Lord was sitting in his house. He sat by the roadside, wondering what had happened to Shao Qiu after being frightened so badly. Perhaps the man had fainted dead away.

He chuckled to himself.

Just then, he heard someone shouting from inside his house. It was unmistakably Aunt Hua’s voice. Uncle Hua heard it, but covered his ears all the same.

“Damn it. I’ll go paw at women too,” he thought. “If Shao Qiu’s mother were still alive, that would be perfect. I could touch her however I pleased. What a pity. What a pity.”

Dog Lord remained in Uncle Hua’s house for some time. Aunt Hua sat beside him, afraid to leave. If he wanted to touch her, she would simply let him. What could she do to stop him? Besides, her husband was not at home. As a lone woman, how could she possibly oppose such a powerful man without suffering for it?

Aunt Hua was also a clever woman. By allowing this, she could protect her Little Blossom and keep that monster from touching the girl. She was an old woman; what harm could there be in letting him touch her?

Dog Lord sat on one side of the table, while Aunt Hua sat on the other. Outside, the world was utterly still. One could almost hear the falling of blossoms. It was already late spring, the season when flowers began to wither.

Aunt Hua let out a long sigh. Were people not much the same as flowers?

“Dog Lord, have some tea. Please, have some tea,” she urged warmly.

Under the table, Dog Lord’s hand had already found hers. Aunt Hua was smiling. She no longer knew why.

Then the rain began to pour outside. A violent wind swept over everything, and in the darkness of the night, the entire world seemed to vanish.

Inside the house, there appeared to be only Dog Lord and Aunt Hua. Their feet moved restlessly against each other, while their hands above the table continued to exchange courteous gestures. Before long, the tea had been drunk. The tea remaining in the pot had grown cold, yet no one remarked that anything was amiss.

It seemed that their concern had never been with the tea. One might even say that the real purpose lay elsewhere.

But what, exactly, did they care about? No one knew. All that could be heard was the howling of the wind outside, scattering petals through the darkness. The ground was already strewn with utter ruin.

After a long while, the door opened. Someone entered, and someone else went out.

The lamp in Uncle Hua’s house went out once more. Only the rain continued to fall over the deserted village.

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