A hand ran through Shi Yun’s hair and caught the back of her head, causing the ponytail to fall apart. Looking at Shi Yun’s face, he suddenly recalled how when he first watched Yukio Mishima’s “The Temple of the Golden Pavilion“, he couldn’t quite understand Japanese people’s implied connotations of the relationship between perversion and beauty.
At this moment, he felt that Shi Yun seemed to be his ‘Golden Temple’ 1[1] Referring to the Japanese novel, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, the main character of the novel has a childhood fascination with Kyoto’s famous Golden Temple, believing it to be perfection.——beautiful.
He could only bow down in the face of her beauty.
This beauty was tainted after passing through his hands. He looked at her and then felt the rise of an abnormal sort of supreme happiness.
He clasped the back of Shi Yun’s head, and suddenly brought out his half-baked understanding of Japanese culture: “Baby.”
His voice was a little hoarse.
She didn’t know of the ‘Golden Temple’ in his mind, but when she heard him, she looked up. The nerve endings by her jaw were stimulated, triggering a vomit reflex, and a few tears rolled out from her eyes.
Wei Congying moved the hand that was in her hair and moved his hand from the back of her head to the front of her face. His wide palm directly encircled the lower half of her face. He stared intently into her eyes. A plain face, disheveled hair, slight frowning, and dripping tears could only give rise to the perverse and tyrannical traits of the viewer.
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Vkdnbkdt bla qynl, Elk Usdtukdt’p Geyx’p yrrzl csccle: “Fllkdt usw zkjl vbkp, R vbkdj R pbswze nbydtl xu qyhsakvl ydnkldv rslx.”
Fbl bye saktkdyzzu vbswtbv kv oswze cl psxlvbkdt zkjl ‘G aspu qynl yde rlynb czsppsxp plv lynb svbla sqq2[2] Wasx vbl rslx, Eakvvld kd y Akzzytl Fswvb sq vbl Uyrkvyz cu Uwk Tw. Rv kp y rslx qasx vbl Mydt eudypvu.‘ sa xyucl kv oswze cl ‘nbyaxkdt lulp nyaaukdt pbudlpp nzspl pzktbvzu, yde ale zkrp psqvzu ryav okvb y pxkzl.3[3] Wasx vbl rslx, Yllvkdt y Jlywvu kd vbl Fswvblad Vyaj, cu Tl Fknbldt. Gzps y rslx qasx vbl Mydt Pudypvu.
Rd vbl lde, pbl blyae bkx pyu: “Eblal yal usw qzywdvkdt uswa mkys4[4] Mbl mkys kp y Ubkdlpl hlavknyz lde-czsod qzwvl, tldlayzzu xyel sq eyaj casod cyxcss. -Fswanl: Lsavblypvlad Bdkhlakvu, xu bydepsxl tsse qlzzso?”5[5] G zsdt lmrzydyvksd cwv bsrlqwzzu kv xyjlp pldpl yde kp xspvzu nsaalnv NXN.
Wasx ulv ydsvbla Mydt eudypvu rslv, vbkp hlapl nsxlp qasx Pw Yw’p rslx, Fldv vs Yytkpvayvl Tyd Ubws kd Zydtgbsw. Tyd Ubws yde Pw Yw olal talyv qakldep yde qlzzso sqqknkyzp obld Pw Yw oyp kd rspv kd Zydtgbsw. Rd yeekvksd, vblu wple vs qaliwldv rzlypwal bswplp vstlvbla. Mbwp, vblal kp xwnb elcyvl ycswv oblvbla zkdl 4 alqlap vs vbl dsczl rzlypwal sq vlynbkdt qzsvkpvp (qzwvkpvp) sa svbla rzlypwalp? Mbl rslx tslp,&dcpr;
Qalld bkzzp kd bygl byzq bkeeld, oyvlap vs yqya es qzso;&dcpr;
Mbkp Fswvbzyde vbswtb zyvl kd ywvwxd, kvp taypp kp ulv vs ulzzso.&dcpr;&dcpr;
G dktbv sq caktbv xssdzktbv s’la Jaketlp Moldvu-Wswa, fwpv
Eblal yal usw vlynbkdt vbl qzwvl, xu bydepsxl tsse qlzzso?
– Gdealo E.W. Esdt, zkdj vs pswanl pkvl blal.
The clean interpretation of the poem paints a beautiful image of the lush green and flourishing south then goes on to describe the night of the full moon in which the reflections of the Twenty-Four Bridges in Yangzhou cross each other in the background with a handsome man teaching a beautiful woman to play the flute. (p.s. Take this explanation with a grain of salt, I may have butchered it somewhere.)
But the dirty interpretation of this would be the double meaning of “flaunting your flute,” a more direct translation would be “play the xiao,” which can also mean fellatio, or blowjob, in slang. So another way this could have been translated would be, “Where does a handsome fellow teach a beautiful woman about blowjobs. Doesn’t exactly give off an elegant poem vibe anymore does it?[/mfn]
Like a market hooligan stained with ink and a literary air.
Shi Yun listened to him twist the meaning of ancient poems. To think he was not afraid Du Mu6[6] A famous late Tang Dynasty poet, Du Mu was well known as a man who appreciated beautiful women. Many of his poems are quatrains reflecting this taste. He is best known as the writer of sensual, lyrical quatrains featuring historical sites or romantic situations, and often on themes of separation, decadence, or impermanence. -Sources: LAC Poetry, Wikipedia would come to him in a dream in the middle of the night.
Soon Shi Yun ran out of strength, but he didn’t force her. Shi Yun removed the black stockings hanging from the ends of her hair. She didn’t sit by the bed to put it on, but stood there, first rolling up the stockings from the opening, and after getting them over the soles of her feet, she pulled them up little by little.
Wei Congying sat by the bed, like a customer who went to a coffee shop to order a drink, but with no other choice, ground the beans himself, and instead made a cup of pour-over coffee. Watching her putting on the socks slowly, in contrast, he was like a youngster. Seeing the stockings sticking to her skin, his breathing slightly deepened.
Shi Yun put on the socks, but before her waist was completely straightened, a pair of arms wrapped around her, and she pulled her onto the bed, making her head spin.
The soft mattress hadn’t been replaced yet, and she didn’t feel any pain from the fall.
Just as Shi Yun was about to turn over, her ankle was grabbed by a hot and humid hand.
“Are you in such a hurry?”
Wei Congying felt the soles of her feet through the thin silk, and hissed: “You baited me.”
–
After Wei Congying cleaned himself up, he looked at the clump of stockings on the ground and bent down to pick them up.
The colors black and white were on the top.
The color contrast was obvious.
Wei Congying picked up the stockings and left his hands hovering over the trash can. He asked the person on the bed: “I’m tossing the socks.”
He had a good experience. Although he would like to do it again next time, he was not too poor to not be able to afford a new pair. Besides, he bought a lot in the store that day; he had more than enough to use.
Seeing that she wasn’t answering, Wei Congying made the decision, released his grip, and dropped the stockings into the trash can.
Shi Yun couldn’t be bothered to talk to him. After a strenuous exercise, sleepiness spread all over, as if the Boston ivy that wrapped around that plot of camellias in Wei Congying’s mind had also wrapped around Shi Yun.
She fell asleep quickly and did in fact sleep better. In the afternoon, Wei Congying did not bother her again, and she slept till night.
When she opened her eyes, the lights in the bedroom were not turned on, and looking out through the half-closed window, it was already dark.
After getting enough sleep, the feeling of being well-rested saturated her entire body. Only, she needed to find her bearings and her mouth was a little dry.
Shi Yun instinctively looked for her phone first thing, but she couldn’t find it after groping around on the bed.
Lying on the bed, her whole body was still weak, and she was too lazy to move. The opposing sides of ‘want to look at the phone’ and ‘don’t want to move’ were struggling in her brain, and finally, the side that wanted to look at the phone prevailed. Shi Yun sat up from the bed and reached for the light switch.
She didn’t know which switch corresponded to which light, so she pressed one at random. The brightest light in the bedroom was switched on. Shi Yun closed her eyes as when it was so bright, it was very dazzling.
She hadn’t gotten used to the bright light yet when the person in the living room saw the light in the bedroom and walked in. He was tall and built, and when he stood by the bed, he blocked the glaring light from the ceiling.
“You’re awake?”
Shi Yun nodded. After getting enough sleep, she felt like a lamb, easy to bully: “What time is it?”
“It’s half past seven.” Wei Congying turned on the phone screen and passed it over to her.
Notes:
[1] Referring to the Japanese novel, The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, the main character of the novel has a childhood fascination with Kyoto’s famous Golden Temple, believing it to be perfection.
[2] From the poem, Written in a Village South of the Capital by Cui Hu. It is a poem from the Tang dynasty.
[3] From the poem, Meeting a Beauty in the Southern Park, by He Sicheng.
[4] The xiao is a Chinese vertical end-blown flute, generally made of dark brown bamboo. -Source: Northeastern Univerity
[5] A long explanation but hopefully it makes sense and is mostly correct LOL.
From yet another Tang dynasty poet, this verse comes from Du Mu’s poem, Sent to Magistrate Han Chuo in Yangzhou. Han Chuo and Du Mu were great friends and fellow officials when Du Mu was in post in Yangzhou. In addition, they used to frequent pleasure houses together. Thus, there is much debate about whether line 4 refers to the noble pleasure of teaching flotists (flutists) or other pleasures? The poem goes,
Green hills in haze half hidden, waters to afar do flow;
This Southland though late in autumn, its grass is yet to yellow.
A night of bright moonlight o’er Bridges Twenty-Four, just
Where are you teaching the flute, my handsome good fellow?
– Andrew W.F. Wong, link to source site here.
The clean interpretation of the poem paints a beautiful image of the lush green and flourishing south then goes on to describe the night of the full moon in which the reflections of the Twenty-Four Bridges in Yangzhou cross each other in the background with a handsome man teaching a beautiful woman to play the flute. (p.s. Take this explanation with a grain of salt, I may have butchered it somewhere.)
But the dirty interpretation of this would be the double meaning of “flaunting your flute,” a more direct translation would be “play the xiao,” which can also mean fellatio, or blowjob, in slang. So another way this could have been translated would be, “Where does a handsome fellow teach a beautiful woman about blowjobs. Doesn’t exactly give off an elegant poem vibe anymore does it?
[6] A famous late Tang Dynasty poet, Du Mu was well known as a man who appreciated beautiful women. Many of his poems are quatrains reflecting this taste. He is best known as the writer of sensual, lyrical quatrains featuring historical sites or romantic situations, and often on themes of separation, decadence, or impermanence. -Sources: LAC Poetry, Wikipedia
Translator Corner:
Yep, WCY is definitely the hooligan here, educated yet a total lust-driven idiot at times.
The contents of this novel seem to err on the side of mature content rather than pg-13… It feels like the actual R-rated content just got cut out but the remaining content lacks enough censoring to be junior-friendly. Hm, should I add a warning?
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