Meng Jiang Nü
Natasha Rode-Christoffersen, Group 3: Fiction, International College Hong Kong
he brick walls were sealed with cement and sticky rice and had been laid with passion and effort. Daisy
dreamed of walking on the Great Wall, but for now they were suck in the museum near by, thanks to
Casey. Daisy gazed out the window, willing there to be an ancient part of the Great Wall lying in front
of the museum, but there was not. All they could see was a clear lake with a small cliff. Daisy looked
around for something interesting and an old lady in the corner caught her eye. On her invitation, Casey
slipped a few coins into the box next to her feet and the lady began her story...
“
He ran. His feet were tired. He could not find anywhere to hide. No one would let him in. No-one wanted
to be seen with a coward, a
懦夫
;
avoiding labour on the wall was a disgrace. The wall was China’s pride. All
he knew was that he did not want to work. He knew no more; he had seen the workers strive, sweat and bleed...
All he cared about was himself. So he kept running until he found a garden, a secret garden, a place none too
many knew of. He knew it not himself, but sooner or later they would find him. He dozed off, beneath the
flowers and trees. When he awoke, he saw, a lady, the daughter of the owner of the garden. Suddenly his
priorities changed. He spoke to her and as he did, he became less wicked and self centred. He stayed there many
days. They talked and shared, he started to care for her and she began to care for him. A year passed.”
“
Yes! Blah, blah, blah and then the story has a sudden twist and then he...” said Daisy, but Casey hushed
her impatiently. Slowly the crinkled storyteller continued, slightly distracted by Daisy’s interruption.
“
They grew closer. One night looking out over the sunset, a blue, pink and yellow sunset, Liang Fanqi
asked her the most amazing question of all: ‘Will you marry me? They loved each other dearly, but one day
the soldiers found him. They brought Liang Fanqi back to the Great Wall, and he slaved away, sweating,
bleeding, starving, but always thinking of her. She missed him dearly, so she sewed him clothes for the winter
that lay ahead, and with every stitch she thought of him. She often pricked her finger and thought nothing of the
pain. For it was nothing compared to the pain of missing her husband.”
“
We get the idea, they were in love and she misses him and he misses her….get on with it! Story teller
huh!?” Daisy kicked the sign that lay next to the story teller. But she picked it back up, feeling guilty, she had
just enough time to read the name in pinying, Meng Jiang Nü, before she lay it in the storytellers hands again.
The storyteller smiled a toothless smile and proceeded:
“
When she returned to the wall, with the clothes she had sewed. Liang Fanqi wasn’t there. She searched
days and nights, but he wasn’t there. She searched every place he might be until one day someone told her he
was no more. She cried till her eyes were dry, till she could no longer hear her heart beating. Every night she
cried herself to sleep.”
“
Okay, this is just depressing! Lets go,” said Daisy. She was bored. Casey’s shoulders slouched, she
wanted to hear the ending. The storyteller continued again. Her face was stretched by the neat bun she had at the
back of her head.
“
Even the wall, saw her cry. The bricks could hold her burden no longer. They gave way; they crumbled,
leaving only rubble and the bodies of men. She found it hard to look at them ; their lives and dreams shattered
by the Great Wall. No man was to sleep till the wall was finished. She still wept, she cut her finger and trickled
blood over every body. She saw the lost souls and she felt the endless labour pressed upon her. She could hear
the troubled souls screaming out to her. She kept walking till she reached a body. The blood from her wound no
longer trickled, but gushed. She felt her arms grasp her husband. She felt her feet give way, she felt salt water
run down her cheeks.”
“
Ew, he’s dead... That’s just disgusting!” Daisy said, but Casey wouldn’t budge. Daisy wondered what
stopped Casey from leaving. Maybe it was the way the storyteller had painted a picture in their heads as she
spoke? Or maybe it was the way that the storyteller had made them both feel?
Once again the storyteller continued to weave her words:
“
She sat there for hours crying over him. She gave him a proper grave. It was a solemn and miserable
burial. She felt no reason to keep going, no reason to take another breath, no reason to take another sip or
another bite. Her father brought her to her favourite place when she was a child, a clear lake, Qing Hai Hu. As a
child, her mother used to tell her stories at the edge of the water and her father tried to teach her the art of
swimming, but she never learnt. In the days of her youth, they would split their moon cakes looking out over the
clear water and stare into the flawless moon. But the past was the past. Now all she could think about was Liang
Fanqi. On the last day, her father did what he had done before: he spilt a moon cake into four slices. One slice
for her dead mother, one for Liang Fanqi, one for her father and one for her. She felt her heart sink as she ate it.
T