Fourteen Bridges in the Mist

The palace manager taught her to speak one way to people and another to ghosts. The Daoist from the immortal sect taught her that everything was as fleeting as a cloud, and would eventually come to nothing. The head of a martial arts sect taught her to draw her sword whenever she saw injustice. The madam at the pleasure house taught her that all men were fickle, and only money could keep her alive.

Yet the family who let Yanling stay with them for a few days to shelter from the rain left the deepest impression on her.

The stooped old woman asked, “Miss, are you betrothed?”

“Not yet.”

“Is there a young man you fancy?”

Many men she had met flashed through Yanling’s mind, but for a long time she couldn’t make sense of her thoughts.

“What does it mean… to fancy someone?”

The old woman gently clasped her blind husband’s hand, gazing at him with tender eyes as she smiled. “To hold your beloved’s hand and grow old together. That’s what it means to fancy someone.”

Yanling thought for a moment, then said softly, “I haven’t found anyone.”

As she watched the couple beneath the evening moon, she thought: Perhaps there are men in this world who aren’t fickle, and money that can’t keep you alive.