Chapter 23: Wronged More Than Dou E
[Dou E: Dou E (窦娥), a young woman from the Yuan dynasty play 'The Injustice to Dou E'. She was falsely accused of a crime she didn’t commit and was executed. Before her death, she made three vows: her blood will not stain the ground but will fly up to a white cloth, snow will fall in midsummer to prove her innocence, and the region will suffer a drought for three years. All three vows came true, proving her innocence and the injustice done to her. Dou E has become a cultural symbol of extreme injustice and wrongful suffering.]
Yang Jiabo was hospitalized, and since Wei Jing’s family lived in the hospital staff quarters nearby, he came to visit Yang Jiabo every day. Every time Yang Jiabo woke up from a nap, Wei Jing was there, while his own mother, who was supposed to be taking care of him, was busy watching TV. With only two or three channels available, Yang Jiabo couldn’t understand what was so interesting.
“Jiajia, you’re awake? Are you hungry? What do you want to eat?”
“All I do is eat and sleep. I’m turning into a pig.” Yang Jiabo sat up weakly, his head still throbbing faintly.
“Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?” Wei Jing asked nervously.
“Brother, you don’t need to be so worried. The critical period is over, and I’m recovering well.” Yang Jiabo sighed helplessly and pointed at Li Guizhen. “See? You should learn from my mom. Just relax.”
“Who are you saying is relaxed? What good does worrying do? The doctor already said you’ll be fine with proper rest.” Li Guizhen glared at Yang Jiabo.
“Ah, my head hurts, it hurts!” Seeing his mom about to start scolding him again, Yang Jiabo pretended to have a headache and secretly winked at Wei Jing.
This was how the mother and son always were, and Wei Jing had grown used to it. He silently peeled a pear for Yang Jiabo, carefully cut it into small pieces, and placed them in a bowl.
“The pear’s a bit hard. Chewing makes my head hurt.” Yang Jiabo said, but he finished the entire pear anyway.
“Do you want more?” Wei Jing asked.
“No, I need to rest.”
The two kids got along well, acting like little adults.
When Wei Feng returned, Yang Jiabo was still in the hospital. He looked at Yang Jiabo with sympathy and asked, “Jiajia, why are you in the hospital again?”
“…” Yang Jiabo was speechless. He felt just as helpless.
When school started, Yang Jiabo was still in the hospital. The doctor said he needed a few more days of observation and could only be discharged after a follow-up examination. So Yang Jiabo had to take a leave of absence. His homeroom teacher was also at a loss. This kid seemed to have terrible luck.
Then the police station sent over a commendation. Yang Jiabo and Wei Jing had assisted the police in cracking a counterfeit money ring. The school leadership was thrilled and decided to commend them with certificates and rewards. As a result, Yang Jiabo became famous at school, a hero-like figure. His classmates would probably never forget him, or his embarrassing past.
Three days after school started, Yang Jiabo was finally discharged from the hospital. It was a cause for celebration. However, he still couldn’t return to school immediately and needed some time to recuperate. Fortunately, there were no obvious long-term effects from his injury.
Yang Jianjun picked Yang Jiabo up on his tricycle and brought him home. As soon as Yang Jiabo arrived, he noticed how lush and green the grass around his house was. It really was growing well. He couldn’t help but sigh deeply. He really couldn’t expect the little fleeceflower to understand him. Was he really going to have to consider raising rabbits? But not many people around here ate rabbits, and they were messy. He quickly dismissed the idea.
“Jiajia’s back! Grandma made you some chicken soup.” Grandma Yang was delighted to see Yang Jiabo and pulled him aside to check him over. When she saw the wound on his head, her heart ached.
Grandpa and Aunt Yang Meizhen were also waiting for him at home, along with little Yang Qing. To celebrate Yang Jiabo’s miraculous recovery and discharge from the hospital, the family gathered for a meal.
“Dad, why didn’t Grandma make us jump over the fire basin this time? Did she forget?” Yang Jiabo whispered.
“How could she forget? She’d forget who you are before she forgets that.” Yang Meizhen overheard and chuckled. “Grandma’s about to celebrate her 60th birthday. She invited most of the old ladies from the temple who can chant scriptures to come and celebrate with her. They’ll also help cleanse your bad luck.”
“But Grandma is only 59, isn’t she?” Yang Jiabo asked, confused.
“It’s a tradition to celebrate the 60th birthday at 59. It’s called ‘celebrating the ninth, not the tenth.’” Yang Meizhen explained.
[celebrating the ninth, not the tenth (过九不过十): a traditional Chinese custom related to birthday celebrations, particularly for milestone ages like 60, 70, or 80 years old. In Chinese culture, the number 9 (九, jiǔ) is considered auspicious because it sounds like the word for "long-lasting" or "eternal" (久, jiǔ). On the other hand, the number 10 (十, shí) sounds like the word for "death" (死, sǐ) in some dialects, making it inauspicious. Instead of celebrating a milestone birthday (e.g., 60th, 70th, or 80th) on the actual year, people celebrate it one year early (e.g., at 59, 69, or 79)]
Two days later, many elderly women arrived at the house. The scent of incense and the sound of chanting filled the air from early morning. Yang Jiabo lay in bed, unable to rest properly. He got up to see what these old ladies were up to.
What he saw was astonishing. Some of the women were chanting scriptures, others were preparing vegetarian dishes, folding paper money, and some were even making paper sedan chairs. Although they were made of paper, they were indeed sedan chairs. They were quite beautifully crafted, with white paper bodies painted with cranes and auspicious clouds. Another sedan chair was adorned with evergreen pine and cypress motifs. The others weren’t finished yet, but the artistic skill was impressive. Yang Jiabo thought these old ladies were incredibly talented.
“The steamed cakes are ready!” A sharp-featured old lady shouted from the kitchen. She brought out the steamed cakes, and another woman stuck a red flower on top. These cakes, made from glutinous rice flour, regular rice flour, and brown sugar, were soft, sticky, and sweet. They were often used in rituals.
The steamed cakes were placed on the offering table. Yang Jiabo continued to watch the old ladies with interest.
Wait, what is that? Someone is making a bankbook, a hell bankbook!
[A hell bankbook (地狱存折): a fictional or symbolic item often associated with Chinese folk religion and afterlife beliefs. It represents a bank account in the underworld (hell), where the deceased can access funds in the form of spirit money or joss paper]
It seemed these old ladies had taken over the underworld’s banking system. Yang Jiabo couldn’t help but admire their creativity. No wonder they had Grandma Yang wrapped around their fingers.
After the chanting, the old ladies began dividing the steamed cakes. Some even took out plastic bags to pack them away, clearly planning to take some home. Tsk tsk.
“You’re going too far! Everything here, the food and the materials were paid for by our family. The kid’s been watching eagerly, and you’re dividing the cakes without giving him a single piece. How can you even swallow that?” Yang Meizhen glared at the old ladies, furious.
The old ladies exchanged glances. Some looked embarrassed, while others remained indifferent. The sharp-featured old lady stepped forward. “You don’t understand. Those are offerings.”
“Nonsense! Don’t try to fool a child. You’ve already turned our house upside down with your nonsense. Do you think Buddha would accept your kind of chanting?” Yang Meizhen had had enough. These women had been picky and demanding since they arrived, ordering everyone around and making a mess of the house.
“How dare you speak to us like that! If your mother hadn’t invited us, we wouldn’t have come,” one of the old ladies retorted.
“Exactly! It’s just a steamed cake. Kids are always greedy. Who knows if they even deserve it?”
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