Resurrection 2 - 4
Hong Kong Type #28
Six Records of a Resurrected Life
IV. Love
Should I call you Heng-yi (Lucky Child), or Jiu-wan (Morning Cloud)? To my surprise, after more than a year of not seeing you, your identity had changed. You were no longer the daughter of the photo studio owner, but the courtesan of a prestigious brothel in Sheung Wan. I was detained in Jiangsu earlier, and encountered many difficulties. Whenever I had a moment of peace, I would remember your voice and face, and the Cantonese love song under the moonlight outside the window that eased my heart would ring in my ears. “Alas, everyone has their own troubles that must first be resolved; and everything will be clear once the worry is relieved. However, with a thousand troubles come a thousand symptoms, and it is mostly the word ‘silly’ that enters the symptom deeply and the word ‘love’ that becomes the affliction.” I, a dull man, came to understand what love was at the age of twenty-three. At the beginning of heading north, I was full of ambition, thinking that sending the movable type across thousands of miles could help Brother Hong. Unexpectedly, once the furnace was lit, the lead characters melted, the political reform all turned into nothing. Suddenly looking back, the person I was seeking was in the place where the lights were dimming. I was convinced in my heart that it was you. I wanted to come back to you, regardless of your background, and not fearing your father’s hindrance. I believed that it wasn’t too late, after all you were still young, and there was plenty of time to consider marriage. How could I have known that you had already fallen into the red dust, and submitted yourself to the streets of flowers and willows?
Upon my return to Hong Kong, I immediately went to Ah Chang Photography Studio, hoping to see you and express my feelings of longing. Yet, when I arrived at Flower Market Street, I found the studio deserted, without a person in sight. The street stalls were still in full bloom, the foreign brothels and pubs were just as bustling and noisy, but you were gone, your whereabouts unknown. I asked the neighbors and found out that Ah Chang, the studio owner, had always been a notoriously disreputable man, indulging in prostitution, gambling, drinking and smoking. When he initially inherited the studio from a westerner, suspicions arose of possible fraudulent dealings. His knowledge in photography was merely perfunctory, just enough to trick others. In recent years, he had accumulated massive debts, forcing him to sell his shop and move a few of his racks to a side lane in Sheung Wan. As for his so-called foster daughter, he was merely attracted to her half Chinese, half foreign beauty, seeing her as a profit-making asset. His original intent was to loan her to some successful foreigner as a mistress, but seeing the thriving condition of the local brothels, he found a favorable price and thus threw the poor girl into the fiery pit. Such rumors were rampant in the neighborhood, and I wasn’t sure whether they were true or not. But given Ah Chang’s regular propensity to bluster and boast, his immoral and wicked deeds were most probably widely known. Over the past few years, I was immersed in learning the art of printing, so focused and single-minded that I was wholly unaware of your father’s affairs. Now, thinking back, I’m deeply regretful for being ignorant and unacquainted with the ways of the world.
The situation took me by surprise. I was both shocked and furious, and didn’t know what to do. I immediately headed to Possession Point to ask your father for clarification. I found the new Ah Chang Photo Studio, now just a small shop hidden in a shabby alley, with faded old photos hanging outside. Apart from landscape pictures, there were mostly obscene portraits of naked Chinese women in coquettish poses. Walking into the shop, I saw your father leaning on a chair, smoking his pipe, and reading erotic novels, which was totally outrageous. Seeing me, he thought I was a customer and greeted me with a smirk. I surprised him by pointing directly at his face and questioning him about where his daughter was and why he was not fulfilling his duty as a father, but selling her for profit. He was taken aback, but quickly regained composure and sarcastically retorted, “I know you, you’re from the Anglo-Chinese congregation. I saw you always pretending to distribute religious pamphlets, actually trying to get close to my daughter. Don’t think I’m unaware! You hypocrites always talk about God and pretend to be kind, but you’re nothing more than traitors and running dogs for foreigners! How dare you criticize me? Let me tell you, this chick is born a bastard and has a loose character by nature. Even if I didn’t sell her, she’d still seduce men. Now, I’ve helped her find a place to stay, providing her with food and clothes, which is already a grand gesture of benevolence. But what more could she want? Who are you to interfere in our family matters? If you want to preach about Jesus, please step aside. If you want my daughter and have the guts, better save enough money, go to Grand View Tower and buy her out. Stop just standing there babbling and complaining!” Hearing his scathing words, I realized arguing further was pointless. Despite seething with anger, I felt helpless. I left and headed to the brothels area in Sheung Wan looking for Grand View Tower. As it was still early afternoon, the doors were not yet open. Peeking inside, it was quiet and lazy, with just a faint echo of music from upstairs. I loitered for a while but did not dare to enter, returning home both frustrated and upset.
The third volume of Mr. Legge’s Chinese Classics was due to be printed this year. We were working day and night at the printing house. Although I was troubled and confused, I also exerted myself fully, without sparing any time for other affairs. At the time, Mr. Wong Shing had already accepted the invitation from Shanghai Governor Ding Richang and went to teach in the Shanghai School of Foreign Languages. Mr. Chalmers had already transferred to Canton. The printing house had not yet hired a new superintendent and was still supervised by Mr. Legge. Because I had completed my apprenticeship and performed well at work, I received a slight salary increase. For this reason, I dared not slacken and did my duty even more diligently. However, whenever I thought of you locked behind heavy doors, I felt powerless to rescue you and was filled with both resentment and shame. By mid-year, after much striving, the printing of the book was finally completed, and only then did I have the time to make plans for you. I had already moved out of the dormitory and rented a house at Tai Ping Shan. Since my sister had gotten married and it was not suitable for my mother to live alone, I wanted to move her from Kowloon to live with me. However, my mother did not like the city, so she remained in Mong Kok Village. My big uncle had passed away during my trip to the north, but the brothers of the Leung family still allowed my mother to stay in the village. Half of my earnings went to my mother, and I also hired a maid to take care of her daily needs, hoping she could enjoy her remaining years. However, my remaining funds were barely adequate. Seeing that I had been of age for quite some time and had a stable job, my mother began to repeatedly urge me to settle down and start a family. She made numerous attempts to arrange matchmakings for me, all of which I declined. For, in my heart, it is only you I would take as a wife. When you hear me say this, you certainly wouldn’t believe, or even laugh at me as a fool who talks in his sleep or daydreams. After all, we had not interacted at all, and barely knew each other. We only had one or two exchanges in our youth. And given our disparate positions, it seems absurd to say that I won’t marry anyone but you. However, I will eventually let you know that my words are not empty.
That autumn, I sought assistance from Mr. Wang Tao. He used to be a frequent visitor to the clubs and brothels, and was already familiar with the local pleasure district after his arrival in Hong Kong. I told him that an old classmate of mine, a half-Chinese girl, had unfortunately been sold off by her father and was now working as a courtesan at Grand View Tower. I didn’t know the rules of such places and wasn’t sure how I could meet her. Mr. Wang, a connoisseur of pleasure, immediately understood who I was talking about, “You mean Jiu-wan, don’t you?” After living in Hong Kong for three years, he could speak some Cantonese and didn’t have trouble understanding it. He continued, “I’ve seen this girl a few times, usually at banquets. While not extraordinarily beautiful, she is quite charming and pitiful, and especially stands out with her mixed-race looks. That’s why the head of the brothel got her, to attract those who are fond of novelties. As a novice, her skills in music are just average, but she does understand some English and knows how to sing Western songs which can amuse the guests. Hence, not long after her tag was put up, she received many suitors and her future as a star prostitute seems limitless. However, it has been said that she’s not very compliant and sometimes refuses to serve customers. The madam has also had to discipline her a bit. There’s something I find curious though. In your local brothels, there’s the custom called ‘pipa kids’: young girls bought by brothel owners, educated in poetry and music, and initially only play and sing for customers without selling their body. Later, their virginity is auctioned to the highest bidder in a ceremony, and they served the buyer for ten days, after which they put on mourning clothes, symbolizing the ‘death’ of their husband, and then can sleep with any customers. But Jiu-wan hadn’t been a ‘pipa kid’ and didn’t go through this ritual. I don’t understand why.” Listening to Mr. Wang’s narrative, my heart was tumultuous. Seeing my special feelings for her, despite not fully understanding the situation, Mr. Wang sympathized with me and said, “Little Fuk, if you don’t mind stepping foot into the pleasure district, I can accompany you to ‘buy a banquet’ for Jiu-wan, and you two can meet.”
On the night where a cool breeze blew, Mr. Wang and I went to a restaurant in the Sheung Wan. We rented a private room and sent for a messenger to deliver a “flower note” to Grand View Tower, inviting the courtesan Morning Cloud to join us. Not long after, the reply came – “Jiu-wan has guests.” After waiting for half the night, we summoned you again. It was not until then you arrived unhurriedly. When you entered the room, you were wearing golden hairpins, jade earrings, a collarless red jacket with green edges, and a colorful embroidered pleated skirt, walking in a graceful manner. Behind you, a young maid was carrying your instrument. Seeing me seated, you were startled for a moment, your face flushed red, appearing more stunning than any rouge. After regaining composure, you first greeted Mr. Wang, then turned to me and said, “This gentleman must be Mr. Dai?” Hearing these words, my heart was feverishly burning, and great sorrow arose from the deep. Mr. Wang, seeing my restlessness, casually started chatting with you. You replied that you had long revered Mr. Wang and were honored to serve him, asking him to make himself at home. I was so heartbroken I couldn’t speak and drowned my agony in drinking alone. Shortly after, Mr. Wang asked you to play a song. You picked up the pipa and said, “I’m just a beginner, and my skill is not yet refined, please excuse my inexperience.” You gently twanged a few times to tune the strings, then started to play. I listened closely to the lyrics, it said, “I’ve wished on the long days of dreaming to meet you day and night, for all the miles between us are but a dream’s passage. The heartless wind and rain have sown the seeds of love, and planted this root of love that cannot break loose. Although our meeting in the dream is but an empty one, just a few words of conversation with you in the dream can relieve my sorrow. My dear, for dreams to work we have to promise to do it together. Don’t leave me searching for you in a dream where you’re not present. Take care of yourself, eat well and sleep well. It pains me thinking of you, asking when your heart will start coming home, so that I won’t be left alone with red lantern light when I wake up from the dream.” By the end of the song, both of us were weeping profusely. At this moment, all I felt was sadness, but also consolation.
When I looked up, Mr. Wang had quietly left his seat, even the little maid was gone, leaving only the two of us in the room. You said, “I’m sorry for being rude. Guests come for pleasure, not for sorrow.” I replied, “I’m not your guest.” You asked, “If not a guest, then who are you?” I replied, “I’m the man who wants to marry you.” You said, “Don’t be so naive. Do you even know what you’re saying?” I replied, “I will marry none but you.” You laughed, “Then you’re destined to be a lifelong bachelor.” I replied, “I will work hard and save money.” You laughed again, “It’s too early to talk about redeeming my freedom. Firstly, you don’t have enough money; secondly, Madam won’t let me go easily.” I said, “I can wait.” You said, “Do you know that I’ve been with many men? Are you going to wait until I’m old and unattractive?” I replied, “I’m willing to be your last.” You asked, “Are you serious or just kidding? Are you really that infatuated?” I replied, “You’re called Luck, I’m called Fortune; we’re made for each other.” You laughed out loud, “Looking at us now, can we be called lucky and fortunate? Please stop saying these things, the more you speak, the more it troubles me. You pay to have me, to make you happy, it’s easier this way. If you talk about feelings, I would feel embarrassed, for I can’t give you my heart. My heart is shattered, I am heartless. I only have my body left. You can do whatever you wish with my body, if you can afford it.” I remember what your father said about you, which seemed to have some truth. I was scared but dared not press you directly. Instead, I asked, “Why can’t you just be a pipa kid, only serving drinks and entertaining?” You turned pale, lowered your head, silent for a bit, then replied, “I’m too old. Pipa kids usually start learning their craft at twelve or thirteen. I was fifteen when I started here, and now I’m eighteen. But even pipa kids will eventually become prostitutes.” I asked, “So you mean, you were already...” You replied in a low voice, “I was never a clean person.” I was utterly shocked and asked, “When did that happen?” You bit your lip, choked up and said, “Please don’t ask anymore, your questions are killing me.” You grabbed your instrument, stood up and said, “I think I should go.” I quickly replied, “I’m sorry, it was my fault, I won’t ask again.” You sat down again. I asked, “May I see you again?” You replied, “If you buy banquets for me, I will come.” I said, “I’ve told you, I’m not your customer.” You replied, “If not a customer, you can’t see me as you wish.” I then said, “I can write to you.” You sighed, “I usually have nothing to do in the afternoon, just practice my instrument. You can bring the letter, and I can receive it.” At this point, Mr. Wang returned to the room. You asked if he had any further instructions. He asked how I was doing, and I said it was okay, so you got up and bid farewell.
The letters which I spoke of at that time is the content of the first three chapters of this book. I hoped you would get to know me fully, understand my background and character, and also to comprehend the sincerity of my feelings toward you. I did admit that my own ignorance and hesitation, and my incapacity to disclose my intentions to you early enough had led to the current situation. However, I didn’t believe the situation was beyond salvage. As long as one has determination, there is nothing that can’t be accomplished. Even if I can’t save you in this world, I can at least save you in heaven. I sought advice from Mr. Legge about this matter, he still remembered you studying at Anglo-Chinese College during your childhood and had great sympathy for what you had been through. I asked Mr. Legge whether a Christian can associate with a prostitute, he said that as long as one does not harbor lustful thoughts, does not pursue personal desires, and genuinely cares about the other’s salvation, there is nothing wrong with it. I also asked, if a person used to be a prostitute and later lives a virtuous life, can one marry her. He said, as long as she sincerely repents and believes in Jesus, all her sins would be forgiven, there’s nothing wrong with it. He added, Jesus dined with tax collectors and sinners without worrying about public opinion. The book of Matthew says, if a man has a hundred sheep and loses one, he leaves the ninety-nine on the mountains and goes on to look for the lost one. His joy for this one sheep is greater than that for the ninety-nine that did not wander off. The repentance of one sinner surpasses that of ninety-nine righteous people who are not in need of repentance. Yet, Mr. Legge also admonished me to be vigilant, for human nature is inherently evil, even if one’s heart is determined and intentions are good, one is not necessarily immune from temptation. I kept this in mind, yet I dared not say whether the redemption of the soul or personal affections weighed heavier in my heart. Anyway, with the pastor’s approval I was somewhat comforted.
Following your instructions, I went to the Grand View Tower in the afternoon. Mr. Wang was familiar with the clerk in the brothel, so I entrusted him to deliver the letter. After waiting for several days without hearing anything, I wrote another letter and handed it over to the clerk. The clerk told me that my letter was different from others. I didn’t understand the meaning but did not inquire further. After a few more days, in the afternoon, I went back to the Grand View Tower to check and saw the clerk come out and hand me a letter, saying, “This was written by Jiu-wan herself, not transcribed by me.” When I opened the letter, it was a handwritten song lyric, which read, “The smoke and flower world is like a vast sea of bitterness. It’s hard to find a lover who truly cares. Welcoming the new and sending off the old is nothing more than paying debts. Who would cherish the jade and pity the fragrance? That’s what I thought while indulging in the pleasure-seeking world, there’s been a devoted one who makes me unforgettable even in death. Sometimes I pretend not to care outside, but I miss you in my heart. Tonight, I’m facing the smoke and flower world alone, alas, better not let my thoughts run wild. To have mutual feelings with you is not an easy thing, I will never let down your slight affection for me.” After reading it, I felt a surge of emotions. I knew you were not heartbroken yet. The words you said that day must have been a moment of agitation. The evidence that you cared for me was clear.
After several exchanges, one day your maid brought me a message, saying, “May we meet, please bring some flyers.” Hearing this, my heart settled a bit and my courage grew much stronger. I took the opportunity to print several chapters of the Bible and took them to the brothel for distribution. One afternoon, I took leave on the excuse of distributing books, arrived at the back door of the Grand View Tower, and delivered a letter. After a while, your maid, Ah Lan, came down and invited me up to the upper floor. She led me to a small room and served me tea. After a while, you appeared gracefully, lightly made up and casually dressed. I handed you the flyer, and you said, “If anyone asks, you’re here to preach.” Only then did I realize you were using this as a cover. We chatted a little, and you spoke about what I wrote in my letters, seeming somewhat moved. You also asked if I personally printed the flyers. I then picked up the flyer, and told you, “This is from the First Epistle of John, Chapter Four. It is said, ‘Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. This is how we know that we live in him and he in us: He has given us of his Spirit. And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son to be the Savior of the world. If anyone acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God lives in them and they in God. And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us. Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister.’” Upon hearing this, you were very pleased and asked, “Does loving our brothers also mean loving our sisters?” I said, “Yes.” You said, “I love my brother, and do you love your sister?” I said, “Yes.” You shyly asked, “Didn’t you say you wanted to be my husband?” I anxiously said, “It’s that kind of brotherhood and sisterhood as husband and wife.” You laughed and said, “Such a silly fellow!”
From then on, every week or two, Ah Lan would come to pass on messages, inviting me to meet with you. It was usually about half an hour, with a few hurried sentences, discussing recent events, or reminiscing the past. You always asked me to recite some passages from the Bible tracts, which you listened to with great interest. However, you seemed to interpret them in an entirely different way, unrelated to religious faith. I didn’t care much for this, as I simply took delight in having private conversations with you. On one occasion, we were caught by the madam of the brothel. Surprisingly, she didn’t scold us but instead put on a smile and said, “Oh, Ah Wan, you’ve read foreign books, dipped in foreign ways, and even have a brother-like classmate who often comes to chat with you. How lucky you are! Young man, are you a comprador working in a foreign company? If you have money, you should walk boldly into Grand View Tower from the main entrance and buy a grand banquet for your girl, instead of sneaking around in the light of the day.” Caught off guard, I confessed that I worked at the Anglo-Chinese College. Pretending to be surprised, Madam responded, “Oh, so you’re here to preach the gospel! Ah Wan, you really have God in your heart! The more you worship God, the more blessings you’ll get. Let’s see if the foreign devils’ God is more effective, or our Chinese Guanyin Bodhisattva.” Not to be outdone, you shot back, “You worship Guanyin, I believe in God. Each to his own.” Upon hearing this, Madam burst out laughing and walked away.
One day, during our secret meeting in the afternoon, you asked me if I could translate the lyrics of “Peach Blossom Fan” into English. Although I found it strange, I thought it was worth a try. After pondering for several days, I finally came up with a rough translation. The next time we met, you played the pipa and started to chant the lyrics. I helped you correct your pronunciation, explained the meaning of the words, and you were so happy and excited. Eventually, you managed to match the lyrics to the tune. Before long, the story of courtesan Morning Cloud of Grand View Tower singing “Peach Blossom Fan” in English became the talk of the town. It became a must-play at banquets, and your fame went skyrocketing. Seeing your success and the influx of customers, Madam eased her control over you. One afternoon, I came to visit on a whim, without any notice, and found you merrily jesting with a young man in your room. You asked me to wait in the guest room, and it took you quite a while to tidy up and join me. When I asked about the young man, you said he was the son of the owner of an opium trade company. Upon hearing that, I felt a chill in my heart, but I remained calm. That day, we read Chapter Eight of the Gospel of John, the scripture said, “A woman was caught by the Pharisees in the act of adultery. They brought her before Jesus and said to him, ‘Moses, in the Law, commands us to stone such a woman.’ Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. Then he stood up and said, ‘Let any of you who is without sin, cast the first stone.’ He bent down once again; when the crowd heard this, they left one by one. Jesus asked the woman, ‘Where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?’ ‘No one, sir,’ she replied. ‘Then neither do I condemn you,’ said Jesus. ‘Go now and leave your life of sin.’” When I finished reading, you were too shocked to speak, and tears flowed down your face. You sobbed and said, “I am but one person; what do you want from me? I sing ‘Heartfelt Grass’ for you, but I sing ‘Easy Going’ for others. You should know where my heart lies. I am a sinner, you are a saint; you may pass judgment on me, cast stones at me, and I will die without regret.” I cried with you and said, “How could I do that? How could I ever do that?”
I yearned day and night, hoping that there would be a day when I could redeem your freedom, and you could start your life anew. Jesus would surely forgive you, and the gates of heaven would open for you. I always told you that I was not ashamed of my job. The art of Western movable type printing was the trend of the times and would soon be prevalent in China. As a pioneer, in a few years, with diligent practice, I would become outstanding in this industry and a promising career was waiting for me. Although I might not be able to acquire great fame and fortune, it should be enough to redeem you. Even if your body had suffered a thousand cuts, as long as your heart remained steadfast, you would be complete. I would not be afraid of what others said and would marry you, for love knows no fear, as the saying goes. After the completion of the printing of the third volume of Chinese Classics, business was less demanding. Mr. Legge allowed me to take up a part-time job at the Daily Press, setting type for the English-Chinese Dictionary compiled by Mr. Lobscheid. This work had been ongoing for more than two years. When I typeset the word “Free”, I was especially touched and I record it as follows: “Free signifies autonomy, freedom, self-determination, the right to self-governance, carefree, straightforward, upright, big-hearted, generous, natural, without worries, not-minding, untroubled, release, self-content, at ease, unhurried, casual, unbound, independent, possessing the right to self-release. Freedom is one who is autonomous, unrestricted, possessing the right to govern oneself, courageous, one who has the right to speak freely, a true son of the city.” All these definitions are applicable and true for you. They awoke the true meaning of life like a thunderous sound. I never grew tired of reading it and I pondered for a long time. In addition to typesetting the dictionary, thanks to Mr. Wong Shing’s introduction, I also took up some editorial duties at the newspaper and did some translation work. Every little bit helped, and with frugality, I hoped to save enough funds soon to help you regain your “Freedom”.
I had been toiling day and night, seeing you less often, yet I had made the effort to write some notes to you and had them delivered by Ah Lan. One day, Ah Lan came to the newspaper office and secretly told me that you had accepted young Master Lau’s marriage proposal. I didn’t believe it at first, so I chose a quiet afternoon to meet you at Grand View Tower to clarify things. I ran into the clerk when I went upstairs, and he, seeing my urgency, advised me to accept my fate. I had a bad omen, and when I got to your room, I saw you lying on the bed smoking opium. You were startled to see me and panicked. When you recovered a bit, you asked, “You already know, don’t you?” I nodded, and asked, “Why?” You couldn’t meet my gaze and said, “Even though my heart belongs to you, I have no control over my body. Seeing that I am finally getting out of here, and you should be happy for me.” I managed to suppress my jealousy and said, “If you have truly found happiness with a good family, I’m willing to let go, but you know he’s not the one to entrust your life to.” You laughed and said, “I don’t aim for heaven, just to escape from this hell.” I said, “That’s just another hell.” You angrily retorted, “Could you stop moralizing? The ‘heaven’ you speak of is unreachable. Please, just let me go!” After you finished, you turned your back to me, shedding bitter tears. I had no idea how to comfort you, and I fell silent, feeling helpless.
A month or so passed, and I had not gone to see you, only inquiring about your recent situation through your maid. Lately, I applied for baptism again, met with Mr. Legge, and after several interviews and assessments of my understanding of church doctrine, all went smoothly. However, Mr. Legge noticed my unease and inquired about it in detail. I couldn’t fully explain and just gave a vague response. Mr. Legge then said, “You graduated from our college and have been successful in your career. Your faith is also firm. We all have high hopes for you. We don’t want to see you fall halfway because of excessive indulgence in emotions.” At that time, there were rumors among the Chinese Christians that I was frequenting brothels and had illicit relations with prostitutes under the pretext of preaching. However, because of my usual upright character and honesty, I was not publicly criticized. This matter was detrimental to the reputation of the church, and I knew I had to be cautious in my words and deeds. But your fate had consumed my whole life. Despite all my self-control, I could not remain indifferent to it. Later, I discussed with Mr. Wang Tao, saying that I wanted to buy a grand banquet for Morning Cloud at the Grand View Tower. The cost was high, and even if I exhausted all my resources, it was still not enough. I hoped that he would generously help, and I promised to repay the full amount in the future. Mr. Wang then said, “Little Fuk, your decision is very bold and admirable. Even though I am poor, I am willing to join you in this righteous action.” He then sent someone to arrange it, and the situation was soon decided.
That evening, I put on a new set of clothes and went to the event, accompanied by Mr. Wang. Although it was called a grand banquet, there were very few people, just me and Mr. Wang, you, and a young girl playing the pipa to entertain. At the banquet, you seemed at ease, laughing and joking, calling me “boss” with flattering yet distant words. I silently endured it and when the banquet ended, we returned to our room to sleep. You sat on the bed, about to undress, while I sat on the chair unmoving. You then said, “You’ve spent so much money, aren’t you buying me?” I responded, “I want you, but not to buy.” You retorted, “You have clearly bought me already, drop the pretense.” I replied, “What I want, money cannot buy.” You said, “What money can’t buy, I don’t have.” I said, “You do, you still have a heart.” You answered, “My heart is not with me.” I asked, “Then where is it?” You responded, “It’s with you, I’ve already given it to you long ago. I have no heart, that’s why I can marry someone else.” Disheartened, I pounded my chest in frustration. You came forward to comfort me, speaking softly, saying, “Don’t be like this, let me sing a song for you.” You picked up the pipa and started to sing, “The world of pleasure is the devil’s den, with so much love comes so much suffering. The snow, the moon, the wind, and the flowers, all of which I have seen, how much of the endless romance can you buy? Only by treating them as fleeting clouds will not be mistaken, I fear that digging a mountain is not enough to fill the bottomless river. Speaking of true love and true commitment, who will really die for you? I’m afraid even the most dedicated will abandon when money runs out. Alas, it’s not just the willow and flowers that harm people, think before acting, extinguish the desire in your heart, I advise everyone in the world, do not make the mistake of entangling with the water silk.” After the song, you stayed silent for a long time before speaking, “Ah Fuk, I am a sinner and there’s no salvation for me. Don’t let me drag you down. After tonight, don’t think about me anymore, just pretend that I’m dead. The money you spent tonight, I will secretly give it back to you. So, you didn’t spend any money to buy me, understand? Let’s just be husband and wife for one night only.”
At the beginning of the year, the famous courtesan Morning Cloud redeemed herself, married into the Lau family as a concubine when she was only twenty years old. Many in the brothel couldn’t help but feel jealous. At noontime on the day of your wedding, a gunpowder boat at the Stonecutter Island across the harbour suddenly caught fire and exploded. The windows of the missionary building were all shattered, the roof of the church at the Lower Market collapsed, and all the buildings in the city shook violently. Dark, toxic smoke blanketed the sky and earth as if it were the end of the world.
News of my actions at the brothel had spread throughout the church, and Mr. Ho Fuk-tong summoned me and advised me to postpone my baptism. Thus, my second attempt at baptism failed. Mr. Legge was greatly disappointed. He left Hong Kong for Britain in March to reunite with his family. In the same year, in December, Mr. Wang Tao accepted Mr. Legge’s invitation and set off for England to collaborate on the translation of Chinese Classics. I had witnessed many changes, and in the end, everything seemed to be in vain. How can one not be lost?
I have finished speaking.
Is the letter finished?
Originally it is.
Heng-yi wants to receive a letter again.
Do you want to hear more?
There’s no reason for it to end like this.
Okay, I will write it for you next time.