We continued to walk in a silence as heavy as our hearts. Now Spring Moon held my arm so tightly that her fingernails cut into my flesh. But I didn’t dare utter the slightest complaint. The path was moist, smelling of a mixture of fresh and rotting vegetation. From time to time, we had to sweep aside overgrown branches and leaves. My five senses were achingly aware of the lightest sound, smell, and movement. I could hear Spring Moon’s heavy breathing punctuating the dense night air.
‘Xiang Xiang,’ finally Spring Moon broke the silence, ‘you really don’t think there are ghosts?’
‘Maybe there are; I don’t know.’
Her voice trembled a little. ‘What about if we do run into one?’
‘Since there’s no turning back, we can only face it and maybe even ask, “How are you, pretty ghost, should we sit down to have a cup of tea and chat?”’
Several beats passed before we burst into nervous laughter.
‘I like you, Xiang Xiang. Not only that you’re so pretty, you’re funny.’
Before I had a chance to reply, I noticed we’d already reached an opening. ‘Spring Moon, look, we’ve made it.’
The underbrush opened to a level field flooded with silvery moonlight. In the distance rose a small temple with upturned eaves from which dangled two big, unlit lanterns. Swaying in the breeze, they peered through the foliage like the blinking of two sightless eyes. In front of the temple gate, leaves of ancient trees rustled like someone whispering, or crying, desperately trying to tell a woeful tale.
I felt my elbow nudged. ‘Xiang Xiang, what’s glittering on the ground?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s go and take a look,’ I said, pulling Spring Moon forward.
To my surprise, the glitterings were reflections of the moon in puddles.
Spring Moon danced around, chanting. ‘How wonderful, moon in a puddle.’ Then she screamed, startling me. ‘Xiang Xiang, what’s that?’
I followed her finger and saw clusters of light floating here and there. A silence, then I said, ‘Don’t worry; they’re fireflies.’ But I didn’t go on to explain that I’d been told the favourite places for fireflies were cemeteries. My breath was chilled as I exhaled.
Spring Moon now looked up to gaze at the heavenly disc. Long moments passed before she asked, ‘Xiang Xiang, do you remember that poem about the moon—’
I gazed at the moon and recited, ‘One moon is reflected on all the waters, all waters are embraced by one moon.’
‘I like that. I like you, too, Xiang Xiang; you’re so smart. Oh, I’m so happy here.’
‘Me, too,’ I responded, ‘I feel free here. No Mama, no De, no dark room, no favoured guests—’
‘But also no food, no fragrant tea. Oh, I’m starving.’ She put her hand on her belly. ‘And I have to pee.’
‘Me, too,’ I said, then an idea hit me, ‘Spring Moon, let’s pee on the moon.’
She chuckled.
I said in a singsong tone, ‘I’m Chang E, regretting swallowing the elixir I stole from my husband; I flew to the moon …’
‘Stop that, Xiang Xiang, you’re not Chang E; you can’t pee on the moon!’
I walked to one of the puddles, squatted down, pulled down my pants, and peed on the reflection of the moon. When I finished, I cocked an eye at Spring Moon. ‘See?’
She chased and hit me with her fist. ‘You cunning fox! I should have thought of that first!’
I was running and panting. ‘But you didn’t!’
Finally we reached the temple.
‘All right, Spring Moon,’ I said, ‘now tell me about you and your fiancé.’
Spring Moon pressed her finger tightly against her lips. ‘Shhhh … Xiang Xiang, do you hear something?’
I strained my ears to listen. ‘It’s just the wind.’
‘No, listen more carefully.’
‘Some cats crying?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, maybe it’s the ghost of that sister who hung herself after she’d been stripped naked and whipped till her bottom rotted! Listen, it’s screaming like she’s being slashed!’
‘But Xiang Xiang, if a ghost is dead, how can it scream?’
‘From a nightmare, I guess.’
‘Do ghosts dream?’
‘How do I know? I’m not dead yet!’
‘Oh,’ Spring Moon nudged me harder, while still whispering, ‘Listen, Xiang Xiang, now the ghost moans, and gasps.’
‘Then this one must be a hungry ghost!’
To my surprise, now Spring Moon giggled, ‘I think maybe it’s not a ghost, but someone’s stirring up the clouds and the rain.’
‘But this is not the Wu Mountain.’
Spring Moon took my hand. ‘Don’t be silly. Now let’s go and take a look.’
‘You’re not afraid of ghosts anymore?’
‘Shhh, be quiet. I’m sure it’s not a ghost. Come, follow me.’
We walked around for a moment, then she pointed to a gap in the temple wall. Spring Moon stooped to walk in and I followed her. We felt our way along, trying very carefully not to bump into anything. After a while, it seemed we were getting closer to the source of the sound. Finally Spring Moon stopped by a doorway from which heavy sighs poured.
Feeling fear deep in my stomach, I squeezed her hand and whispered, ‘Spring Moon, let’s go back.’
I was both surprised and embarrassed that now she was the calm one. Again, when I was about to urge her to leave, she shot me a ‘shut up’ glance. Then she went up to one of the windows, licked her finger, poked a small hole through the rice paper covering the lattice, and peeked.
I whispered, ‘Spring Moon, what is it?’
But she completely ignored me.
It couldn’t possibly be a ghost that caused such great delight. So I also licked my finger, poked a hole in the rice paper, and looked.
To my surprise, a man and a woman, completely naked, lay together on the floor. The man was moving on top of the woman – sometimes like a fish caught on a hook, sometimes a bird flying against the wind – exactly as described in The Art of Love by Master Mysterious Hole. Now the woman seemed to be struggling under the man’s pressure and thrusts. Although in the dark I couldn’t clearly see her face, from her slaughtering-the-pig cry, I was sure she was in great pain. I had to press my hand tightly against my mouth to stop from exclaiming. Strangely enough, though frightened, I felt my heart beating faster, my ears and cheeks burning, and heat crawling up from between my legs. I nudged Spring Moon, but she kept waving a dismissive hand.
The wrestling and moaning went on and on until suddenly the man let out a sharp cry. After that, he went limp on the woman’s body.
Oh, my heaven, he must have given up his soul!
I nudged Spring Moon, then placed my hand against my throat and made a slaughtering gesture. Again, she waved her hand impatiently. Now the man, as if awakening from a slumber, rolled over to lie beside the woman. The two were now facing each other, with the woman’s back toward us. The man started to fondle her breasts very gently. The woman let out small moans but made no move to stop him.
Just then an insect – a butterfly I supposed – probably flew in from the