Li Zhi shared some rock candy with the children, telling them to find her at the courtyard house by the village entrance after dinner. She promised to teach them the secret art of hoop rolling then.
After sending the kids away, Li Zhi and her companion stood outside the tightly closed courtyard gate. The two weathered, paint-chipped wooden doors were locked from the outside, indicating the owner was probably not home. Li Zhi pressed her face against a small gap, peering in, but all she could see was a small farmhouse yard with a few chickens lazily pecking at the ground.
Behind her, Pink Hair was nervously keeping watch, looking around anxiously, afraid someone might catch them.
If the villagers saw them sneaking around like this, they’d probably get a good beating.
In the midst of his worry, Li Zhi said, “Xiao Fen (Little Pink), help me up. I’ll climb over and take a look inside.”
Pink Hair: “… My name’s not Xiao Fen.”
Li Zhi patiently asked, “Then what’s your name?”
Pink Hair: “…Forget it. Just call me Xiao Fen.”
He was nervous, like a thief. His palms were sweating. “Sister Zhi, are we really going in? What if we get caught? The door’s locked, so there’s probably no one inside, right?”
“We’ll find out once we’re in.” Li Zhi raised her hand to test the height of the wall, then asked him, “Can you whistle?”
Pink Hair immediately demonstrated for her.
Li Zhi nodded approvingly. “Good. I’ll go in, and you stay outside to keep watch. If any villagers come by, give two quick whistles. One whistle if the coast is clear again. And if the owner of this place comes back, whistle three times in a row.”
Pink Hair nodded nervously.
As a former boy group idol, Pink Hair was quite tall—definitely over 1.8 meters. He crouched down and grabbed Li Zhi by her calves, lifting her high into the air. Li Zhi gripped the wall with her hands and, with a pull-up, brought herself over.
Pink Hair watched with his heart in his throat, whispering, “Sister Zhi! Be careful!”
His only response was the soft thud of her landing inside.
Pink Hair quickly looked around, then hid behind a haystack a short distance away, diligently keeping watch.
Inside the yard, the chickens were startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger and flapped their wings in panic before running off. Li Zhi kept her steps light, quietly observing the surroundings. It was a typical farmhouse courtyard, with common farming tools scattered about. Under the eaves were some unharvested vegetables.
The main house door was ajar. Li Zhi walked toward it cautiously, pressing herself against the wall before peeking inside, only to be startled by the sight of a man’s face.
Li Zhi held her breath for a moment before realizing she’d mistaken it. It wasn’t a real person—it was a black-and-white funeral portrait.
The portrait was prominently displayed in the center of the room. The young man in the photo wore a somber expression, staring forward grimly. In the dim light, the picture exuded a chilling, ghostly aura.
It seemed the family had recently held a funeral here.
The portrait was especially unsettling, much larger than usual. If one wasn’t paying attention, they might mistake it for a person standing inside the room.
After scanning the main house and finding nothing of interest, Li Zhi moved on to check the other rooms. From outside the wall, she suddenly heard two sharp whistles. She crouched down immediately, waiting for a moment before hearing a single whistle. Only then did she rise to continue her search.
The viewers were holding their breath:
【Help! That funeral portrait scared me to tears!】
【The man in the portrait looks so fierce! It feels like he’s going to jump out of the frame and strangle Li Zhi any second now!】
【This courtyard is so eerie, and Li Zhi is just wandering around so casually. I’m freaking out over here!】
【Xiao Fen’s shaky whistling is hilarious!】
…
After quickly scanning through a few rooms, Li Zhi finally reached the door of the only locked room in the courtyard. While all the other rooms had their doors wide open, this one had a lock hanging from the door. After a brief moment of thought, she lightly knocked on the door.
Soon, a sound came from inside, followed by a cautious voice: “Who’s out there?”
Li Zhi called out, “Zhen Zhen?”
“Who are you?” The voice grew more guarded, and soon a figure appeared at the small window nearby. Rough hands grasped the iron bars over the window, and through the gaps, a young face emerged.
Li Zhi walked up to the window, and saw a young girl. Her face was marked with freckles from years of working under the sun, her skin rough and tanned, but with a healthy reddish glow. Her eyes were bright and full of life.
At this moment, however, the girl’s gaze was wary. Still, since the person outside was also a woman, she wasn’t too nervous. “I’ve never seen you before. How did you get in?”
Li Zhi spoke softly to soothe her, “Don’t be afraid. I’m not a bad person. I’m with the theater troupe. We came to your village to perform yesterday.”
Perhaps due to Li Zhi’s friendly expression, the wariness in Zhen Zhen’s eyes eased a little. “A theater troupe came to the village? No wonder… I think I heard some singing last night.”
She pressed her lips together before hesitantly asking, “But why are you at my house? Are you looking for me?”
Li Zhi nodded. “I came to invite you to the show. Everyone in the village went yesterday, and our performance is really good. It would be a shame if you missed it.”
Zhen Zhen lowered her eyes, shaking her head slowly. “Thank you, but I can’t go.”
Li Zhi stepped closer. “Why are you locked up? Did you do something wrong?”
Zhen Zhen shook her head again and whispered, “You should leave. If my in-laws come back and see you here, they’ll scold you.”
Li Zhi smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve got someone keeping watch outside. If they come back, I’ll climb over the wall and escape before they see me.”
Zhen Zhen was startled, but then Li Zhi’s words made her laugh. When she smiled, two small tiger-like teeth showed, adding a cute charm to her face. “You came all this way just to invite me to watch the show? But I don’t think I know you.”
“My name is Li Zhi.” She extended her hand with a warm smile. “Now we know each other.”
Zhen Zhen stared at her in surprise for a moment before slowly extending her hand through the narrow bars. She only stretched out part of her fingers and lightly shook Li Zhi’s hand. “Li Zhi, what characters are in your name?”
Li Zhi replied, “Li as in ‘dawn’ and Zhi as in ‘knowledge.'”
Zhen Zhen felt a bit embarrassed. “Sorry, I haven’t gone to school, so I don’t know how to write those characters. But I think your name sounds really nice.”
She repeated the name twice, “Zhi as in ‘knowledge’—you must have gone to school, right?”
Li Zhi nodded.
A hint of envy flashed across Zhen Zhen’s face. “That’s wonderful. Last time, a merchant from the outside told me that women can go to school now. There are elementary schools, middle schools, even universities. Is that true?”
Li Zhi asked, “Don’t you have schools in your village?”
Zhen Zhen replied, “We do, but only boys are allowed to go. Women in our village aren’t allowed to study.”
Li Zhi looked her in the eye. “Why?”
“The village chief says women don’t need to learn to read or write. All we need to do is take care of our husbands and raise children.” She smiled again.
“But I’ve read a few books. The village chief read them to us. One was called Lessons for Women, another Female Virtue, and another Biographies of Exemplary Women. They were full of stories. Have you read them?”
After asking, she looked a little embarrassed. “You’ve probably read them—you went to school.”
Li Zhi shook her head. “I haven’t read those books.” Seeing the surprise on Zhen Zhen’s face, she slowly explained, “Women outside don’t need to read those books anymore. They’ve been discarded long ago. They’re outdated and wrong. No one reads them now.”
Zhen Zhen stared at her, eyes wide with shock. After a long pause, she finally asked in a daze, “Then what do you read?”
“We read books by Lu Xun. We study astronomy, geography, mathematics, biology, foreign languages, history—lots of things. We read everything except the kinds of books you mentioned.”
Zhen Zhen looked at her for a long time before quietly saying, “That’s amazing.”
Li Zhi asked, “Do you want to go to school and learn?”
“Of course I want to!” Zhen Zhen answered without hesitation, but her enthusiasm quickly faded. “But I can’t go. I’m going to die soon.”
Li Zhi softened her voice. “Why?”
“Because my husband died, and I must follow him in death,” Zhen Zhen said, her tone oddly lacking any resistance.
“A woman whose husband dies cannot live on in this world. In four days, I will die.”
Li Zhi was about to say something when three sharp whistles suddenly came from outside the courtyard.
Three whistles were followed by three more, as if Pink Hair was about to blow his lips off. Soon after, the heavy sound of footsteps stopped outside the gate, and the sound of a lock being turned echoed through the yard.
Zhen Zhen’s eyes widened in panic. She pointed urgently in a direction. “There’s a back door around the corner! Run, quickly!”
Li Zhi left behind a quick “I’ll come back for you” and darted away.
Just as her figure disappeared from the window, the gate swung open. A middle-aged woman with an angry expression stormed in, carrying a basket on her back. She tossed the basket to the ground and headed straight for Zhen Zhen’s locked room, pounding on the door.
“Zhen Zhen! What have you been up to? Why are those outsiders asking about you?”
A weak voice came from inside. “I don’t know. I’ve been locked in here the whole time.”
The middle-aged woman let out a cold snort. “You’d better behave yourself! My son hasn’t been gone long. If you do anything to dishonor him, even if you die for him, we won’t let your memorial tablet enter the Shrine of the Virtuous Women!”
From the direction of the back door came a dull sound, as if something had been knocked over.
The middle-aged woman’s face changed, and she hurried toward the back door. Zhen Zhen rushed to the window, her heart pounding, terrified that Li Zhi had been caught. But after a few tense moments, only the middle-aged woman returned, her face full of suspicion, though she didn’t ask anything further.
Li Zhi, who had climbed out using a bucket, circled around and returned to the front gate. There, she saw Pink Hair anxiously hopping in place behind the haystack.
“Xiao Fen.”
At her call, Pink Hair whipped around, his expression a mix of surprise and relief. He sprinted over. “Sister Zhi! You scared me to death! I thought you got caught!”
Li Zhi simply said, “Let’s go.”
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Pink Hair asked, “Sister Zhi, did you see Zhen Zhen?”
Li Zhi silently nodded.
Pink Hair was excited. “So, did you find out what her wish is?”
Li Zhi replied, “We’ll talk about it later.”
They returned to the courtyard where the theater troupe was staying, and the other players had also mostly come back. Everyone had the same experience—no one had been able to find any information about Zhen Zhen.
Pink Hair was feeling a bit proud. “We saw Zhen Zhen!”
The group perked up. “Where? Did you find out what her wish is?”
Pink Hair pointed at Li Zhi, who had been quiet since they left. “Sister Zhi snuck into the courtyard and met her.”
Everyone looked at her expectantly.
Li Zhi finally raised her eyes and spoke calmly, “This village has a custom where, after the husband dies, the wife must commit suicide to follow him. Zhen Zhen’s husband died not long ago. She’s locked up now and will die in four days.”
“So, her wish is for us to help her escape the village and survive?”
Li Zhi was silent for a moment. “It seems… she’s willing to die.”
—
Translator’s Note:
Historically, there are some traditions like this:
- Sati (also spelled suttee), the ancient Hindu practice in which a widow would immolate herself on her husband’s funeral pyre, is no longer legally practiced and has been outlawed in India for more than a century. However, there have been rare cases reported in modern times, though they are widely condemned.
- Xun Zang (殉葬), involved the burial or sacrifice of people (often concubines, servants, or even officials) along with a deceased ruler. The purpose was to provide the deceased emperor with companions and attendants in the afterlife, as it was believed they would continue to serve him in the next world.
Also, the “Shrine of Virtuous Women” (Lie nu cí 列女祠) mentioned is based on the historical concept of memorializing women who were seen as paragons of chastity, including those who had followed extreme paths of loyalty to their husbands, such as choosing to die after their husbands’ deaths.