搜索
Chapter1ItwasthemorningofthetwentiethofJuly,1900.ApartyofmulecartswerelinedupatthewesternentranceoftheMatajenHutung,astreetintheEastofCityofPeking,partofthemulesandcartsextendingtothealleyrunningnorthandsouthalongthepinkwallsoftheBigBuddhaTemple.Thecartdriverswereearly;theyhadcomethereatdawn,andtherewasquiteahubbubinthatearlymorning,aswasalwaysthecasewiththesenoisydrivers.Lota,anoldmanofaboutfiftyandheadservantofthefamilythathadengagedthecartsforalongjourney,wassmokingapipeandwatchingthedriversfeedingthemules;andthedriverswerejokingandquarrelingwitheachother.Whentheycouldnotjokeabouteachother’sanimalsandtheanimals’ancestors,theyjokedaboutthemselves.“Insuchtimes,”saidone,“whocantellwhetheronecomesbackdeadoraliveafterthisjourney?”“Youarewellpaidforit,aren’tyou?”saidLota.“Youcanbuyafarmwithahundredtaelsofsilver.”“Whatistheuseofsilverwhenyouaredead?”repliedthedriver.“Thosebulletsfromforeignriflesdoesn’trecognizepersons.Peng-teng!Itgoesthroughyourbrain-capandyouarealreadyacorpsewithacrookedqueue.Lookatthebellyofthismule!Canfleshstaybullets?Butwhatcanyoudo?Onehastoearnaliving.”“It’sdifficulttosay,”rejoinedanother.“Oncetheforeignsoldierscomeintothecity,Pekingwon’tbesuchagoodplacetolivein,either.Formyself,I’mgladtogetaway..”Thesunrosefromtheeastshoneupontheentrancetothehouse,makingtheleavesofthebigcolanuttreeglistenwiththedew.ThiswastheYaohouse.Itwasnotanimposingentrance–asmallblackdoorwithareddiscinthecenter.Thecolanuttreecastitsshadeovertheentrance,andadriverwassittingonalowstonetabletsunkintotheground.Themorningwasdelightful,andyetitpromisedtobeahotdaywithaclearsky.Amedium-sizedearthenjarwasstandingnearthetree,whichprovidedteainhotsummerdaysforthirstywayfarers.Butitwasstillempty.Noticingthejar,adriverremarked,“Yourmasterdoesgooddeeds.”Lotarepliedtherewasnobettermanonearththantheirmaster.Hepointedtoaslipofredpaperpastednearthedoorpost,whichthedrivercouldnotread;butLotaexplainedtohimthatitsaidthatmedicinesagainstcholera,colic,anddysenterywouldbegivenfreetoanybody.“That’ssomethingimportant,”saidthedriver.“You’dbettergiveussomeofthatmedicineforjourney.”“Whyshouldyouworryaboutmedicinewhenyouaretravelingwithourmaster?”saidLota.“Isn’titthesamewhetheryoucarryitorourmastercarriesit?”ThedriverstriedtopryoutofLotainformationaboutthefamily.Lotamerelytoldthemthathismasterwasanownerofmedicineshops.Soonthemasterappearedtoseethatallwasinorder.Hewasamanofaboutforty,short,stumpy,withbushyeyebrowsandpouchesundertheeyes,andnobeard,butaveryhealthcomplexion.Hishairwasstillperfectlyblack.Hewalkedwithayoung,steadygait,withslowbutfirmsteps.ItwasobviouslythegaitofatrainedChineseathlete,inwhichthebodypreservedanabsolutepoise,readyforasurpriseattackatanyunsuspectedmomentfromthefront,theside,orbehind.Onefootwasfirmlyplantedontheground,whiletheotherlegwasinaforward,slightlybentandopen,self-protectiveposition,sothathecouldneverbethrownoutofhisbalance.Hegreetedthedriversand,noticingthejar,remindedLotatokeepitdailyfilledwithteaasusualduringhisabsence.“You’reagoodman,”chorusedthedrivers.Hewentin,andsoonappearedabeautifulyoungwoman.Shehadsmallfeetandexquisitejet-blackhairdoneinaloosecoiffure,andworeanoldbroad-sleevedpinkjacket,trimmedaroundthecollarandthesleeveendswithathree-inchbroad,verypalegreensatin.Shetalkedfreelywiththedriversandshowednoneoftheshynessususalamonghigher-classChineseyoungwomen.Sheaskedifallthemuleshadbeenfed,anddisappearedagain.“Whatluckyourmasterhas!”exclaimedoneyoungdriver.“Agoodmanalwaysisrewardedwithgoodluck.Suchayoungandprettyconcubine!”“Rotyourtongue!”saidLota.“Ourmasterhasnoconcubines.Thatyoungwomanishisadopteddaughterandawidow.”Theyoungdriverslappedhisownfaceinfun,andtheotherslaughed.Soonanotherservantandanumberofprettymaids,fromtwelveorthirteentoeighteeninage,cameoutwithbedding,packages,andlittlepots.Thedriverwereratherdazzled,butdarednotpassfuthercomments.Aboyofthirteenfollowed,andLotatoldthedriversitwastheyoungmaster.Afterhalfanhourofthisconfusion,thedepartingfamilycameout.Thebeautifulyoungwomanappearedagainwithtwogirls,bothdressedverysimplyinwhitecottonjackets,onewithgreen,theotherwithviolettrousers.Youcanalwaystelladaughterofawell-to-dofamilyfromamaidservantbyhergreaterleisurelinessandquietnessofmanner;andthefactthatyoungwomanwasholdingtheirhandsshowedthedriversthesetwowerethedaughtersofthefamily.“Hisaochieh,comeintomycart,”saidtheyoungdriver.“Theother’smuleisbad.”Mulan,thegirl,thoughtandcompared.Theothercarthadasmallermule,buthisdriverhadamorejovialappearance.Ontheotherhand,thisyoungdriverhaduglysoresonhishead.Mulanchosebythedriverratherthanthemule.Soimportantarelittlethingsinourlife,perfectlymeaninglessinthemselves,butaswelookbackuponthemintheirchainofcauseandeffect,werealizetheyaresometimesfraughtwithmomentousconsequences.Iftheyoungdriverhadnothadsoresonhishead,andMulanhadnotgotintotheothercartwiththesmallandsickly-lookingmule,thingswouldnothavehappenedonthisjourneyastheydid,andthecourseofMulan’swholelifewouldhavebeenaltered.Inthemidstofthehustle,MulanheardhermotherscoldingSilver-screen,amaidofsixteenintheother