Chapter Five: A Startled Swan

Wang Erlang was scared half out of his wits, terrified that she might miss her footing and plunge from the high platform; and worse, he thought, if the scaffold toppled because of it, the two of them would be lucky to escape with their lives even if they didn't die outright. His gaze flicked toward the corner and landed on the wooden bucket that had just collected a measure of urine, and his heart clenched all the tighter — if it were knocked over or kicked loose, the contents would come raining down like scattered flower petals from a heavenly maiden, and that would hardly be a pretty sight. It might even be enough to ruin Wang Erlang's hard-won reputation for good...

"It's too dangerous, watch out, you'll fall—" Before Wang Erlang could even finish voicing all his worries, the young woman's voice reached his ears, resolute and final: "I won't."

That simple, curt "I won't" instantly silenced whatever Wang Erlang had been about to say next. He forced the words back down his throat and could only stare at the bucket, silently despairing.

Yet astonishingly, the young woman spun, leapt, and landed, every motion graceful and light as air, just as soundless as when she walked down the scaffold. More astonishing still, though there was no instrument in sight, her dance seemed to carry the harmony of strings and flutes filling the hall. For a moment Wang Erlang was utterly entranced, feeling as though a beam of light from the cave's ceiling had fallen upon her, brighter even than the candles lighting the grotto.

Wang Erlang watched, spellbound, until her voice — "Did you understand it?" — pulled him back to reality. He hadn't even seen clearly when her feet had touched down or when she had ended her movements, so how could he possibly know what he was meant to understand? Feeling suddenly guilty, and not knowing how to answer, he awkwardly fetched his own water skin and held it out to her instead. "Would you like a drink of water?"

The young woman didn't seem to mind that he hadn't offered any insight right away. She graciously accepted the water skin, uncorked it, and took a sip.

"It's not good," she said, frowning, her face full of distaste.

"That can't be right?" Wang Erlang was thoroughly puzzled. What difference could there possibly be between good water and bad? This was the same water he drank every day — what could be different about it today? So he took the water skin back from her and drank a mouthful himself, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

"Here." Just as he was wondering what hidden meaning lay behind her "not good," the young woman held out her own water skin to him.

Seeing no other option, Wang Erlang took it and drank a mouthful. Comparing the two, his eyes went wide with astonishment — so it hadn't been because he'd gone so long without a drop that yesterday's water had tasted so wondrously sweet to him; her water truly was a taste beyond the mortal world, no wonder she'd looked so disgusted by his.

"Drink mine from now on," the young woman said.

Her words felt like a blessing from the heavens — to be able to drink such sweet, delicious water from now on. What great merit could Wang Erlang possibly have accumulated in a past life to deserve such fortune?

"So, did you actually understand it or not?"

"Ah!" Wang Erlang had just felt himself blessed by heaven, only to be dragged straight back down into torment — her follow-up question was practically a new death sentence...

"I..." Wang Erlang scratched his head, at a loss for words.

"You what?" The young woman, clearly not grasping his inner turmoil, pressed on earnestly.

"I... um... just now..." Wang Erlang stammered, lowering his head, not daring to look at her.

"What exactly are you trying to say?" The young woman seemed to grow a little impatient, her voice rising slightly, which startled Wang Erlang enough that he dared not go on mumbling vaguely.

"Nothing," he said.

At that moment, Wang Erlang's head hung even lower, so he never saw the young woman glaring at him. He only heard the sound of her foot stamping hard, the scaffold creaking and swaying — a louder noise, even, than when she had been dancing moments before.

"I'm leaving. Think it over yourself."

It was a long while before there was any further sound, and only then did Wang Erlang dare to raise his head. The young woman had vanished without his even noticing when, leaving behind, in the spot where she usually sat, nothing but a single water skin.