Yangsze Choo Quotes

For when the cycle of violence escapes its confines in hell, it causes earthquakes, floods, and other calamities.

Amah was always wary of voicing misfortunes, fearing that to do so would only make them come true.

This practice of arranging the marriage of a dead person was uncommon, usually held in order to placate a spirit. A deceased concubine who had produced a son might be officially married to elevate her status to a wife. Or two lovers who died tragically might be united after death. That much I knew. But to marry the living to the dead was a rare and, indeed, dreadful occurrence.

We Chinese did not like to give or receive certain gifts for superstitious reasons: knives, because they could sever a relationship; handkerchiefs, for they portended weeping; and clocks, as they were thought to measure out the days of your life.

Then Er Lang was looking at me ruefully. "You have taken at least fifty years of my life!"
I was stricken. "Take it back!"
"I can't. But fortunately, my life span is many times yours."
"How long can a dragon live?"
"A thousand years, if he is lucky. Not all of us are, of course." He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry." I couldn't look him in the eye. Instead, my gaze was drawn to the strong line of his throat. If he had given me blood, I would surely have killed him. But Er Lang was struggling to sit up.
"I should have stopped you sooner. Though I now understand why men succumb to ghosts." He spoke lightly, but my ears blazed with mortification.
"You were the one who put your tongue in my mouth!" I blurted out, regretting it instantly. To talk about other people's tongues was the worst, revealing the depths of my inexperience. And yet, the memory of his made me shiver and burn, as though I had a fever. It hadn't been like this with Tian Bai; it was easy to understand where I stood with him. But he had been courting me, whereas Er Lang was an entirely different commodity. We did not have that sort of relationship, I reminded myself.
But he merely gave me a wry glance. "I was a little carried away."
"Thank you," I said at last. I realized it was the first time I had thanked him formally.

Was this love? It was like a consuming flame, licking through my defenses at a slow burn.

It was strange to think that power in this world belonged to old men and young women.

Qing Ming, the festival of the dead,

In the darkness of a thousand
withered souls, it was Er Lang's hand that I
sought, and his voice that I longed to hear. Perhaps
it is selfish of me, but an uncertain future
with him, in all its laughter and quarrels, is better
than being left behind.

The contrast between the realization of his neglect and the fondness I had for my father was painful.

And take that stupid hat off! It's cutting into my neck."
He began to laugh weakly. "What a harridan you are. How could I let you be devoured when there's still so much scolding left in you?"
"How dare you say that!" But I was secretly relieved that he could speak again. "Now take that hat off."
"If I remove it, you will never treat me the same way again.

I've done you a disservice," he said at last. "It's only fair to let you know, but you won't have a normal life span."
I bit my lip. "Have you come to take my soul, then?"
"I told you that's not my jurisdiction. But you're not going to die soon. In fact, you won't die for a long time, far longer than I initially thought, I'm afraid. Nor will you age normally."
"Because I took your qi?"
He inclined his head. "I should have stopped you sooner."
I thought of the empty years that stretched ahead of me, years of solitude long after everyone I loved had died. Though I might have children or grandchildren. But perhaps they might comment on my strange youthfulness and shun me as unnatural. Whisper of sorcery, like those Javanese women who inserted gold needles in their faces and ate children. In the Chinese tradition, nothing was better than dying old and full of years, a treasure in the bosom of one's family. To outlive descendants and endure a long span of widowhood could hardly be construed as lucky. Tears filled my eyes, and for some reason this seemed to agitate Er Lang, for he turned away. In profile, he was even more handsome, if that was possible, though I was quite sure he was aware of it.
"It isn't necessarily a good thing, but you'll see all of the next century, and I think it will be an interesting one."
"That's what Tian Bai said," I said bitterly. "How long will I outlive him?"
"Long enough," he said. Then more gently, "You may ha

The problem with the dead was that they all wanted someone to listen to them.

The hours, days, and years that had bled away in his opium haze demanded a payment from my future.