Soon, Han Jimei discovered how wildly imaginative her mental scenarios could get.
Of course, Chu Kuang would never write a plot just for the sake of irony.
[In this not-so-affluent home, two things were most precious: Mr. A's three-generation inherited gold watch and Mrs. A's hair. If a wealthy and beautiful woman lived in the apartment across the courtyard, Mrs. A would, one day, hang her hair out the window to dry, overshadowing the lady's jewelry and gifts. If a wealthy man stacked all his wealth in the basement, Mr. A would invariably pull out his gold watch every time he passed by, causing envy with a stroke of his beard and a glare.]
This was an exceptionally unique expression.
As Blue Star lacked the tonal quality of translating Chinese to English, Han Jimei, on her first encounter with such a textual expression, found it awkward but surprisingly felt a strong sense of amusement.
Okay, Han Jimei now knew that Mrs. A intended to sell her hair.
It was a difficult decision because it was what Mrs. A cherished and took pride in the most.
[Her beautiful hair cascaded down her body like a shiny black waterfall.
Her hair reached down to her knees, as if it had been woven into a garment for her.
Nervously, she quickly combed her hair.
She hesitated for a moment, standing quietly, and a tear or two fell onto the worn-out red carpet.]
The more the text described how beautiful Mrs. A's hair was, the more Han Jimei could empathize with the woman's reluctance and bitterness.
But this woman finally sold her once-prized hair, successfully exchanging it for twenty yuan.
And the gift she purchased was a white watch strap, valued at twenty-three yuan, a significant gain after bargaining with the shopkeeper for half an hour.
With only eight mao left, Mrs. A returned home, joyous.
So...
[Although Mr. A's watch was luxurious, he sometimes only glanced at it secretly because he used an old belt instead of a watch chain.]
Back home, she repeatedly looked in the mirror.
With short hair tied with a bandage, she looked like a primary school student playing hooky.
Only now did she start to worry.
Would her husband be angry?
Would he scold her severely?
After all, he had praised her hair countless times. Would she still be beautiful in his eyes without the long hair?
She hesitated, feeling anxious.
At this point, Han Jimei couldn't help but feel compassion for this woman.
If there were a Tang Dynasty in this world, Han Jimei would surely associate it with the saying, 'A poor couple brings a hundred sorrows,' and then worry about it. However, what was destined would always come.
The story continues from Mrs. A's perspective:
[The door opened, and her husband walked in, casually closing the door behind him. He was thin and very serious. Poor fellow, at only twenty-two years old, he took on the burden of the family! He still needed a new coat, and he didn't even have gloves.]
She truly loved her husband.
Not because Chu Kuang had been using words to describe the sincerity of her love, but through the details between the lines, one could see many emotions.
Would her husband be angry?
Han Jimei hesitated to read further, but eventually, she continued:
["Did you cut your hair?" the husband asked laboriously, as if, after wracking his brain, he still hadn't grasped this obvious fact.]
Was this considered anger?
Han Jimei, like Mrs. A, was curious about her husband's current state of mind. She didn't know if the next moment would involve a big slap—
Only scoundrels would do that!
If so, she wouldn't easily read Chu Kuang's novels again.
["Not only did I cut it, but I also sold it," Mrs. A asked, "Regardless, do you still like me the same? Even though I have no hair, I am still me, right?]
She asked cautiously, almost humbly.
At this point, the story had reached its conclusion.
Han Jimei couldn't fathom how the story would end until she read the next passage:
[The husband took out something from the coat pocket and threw it on the table.
"Don't misunderstand me, dear," he said, "Whether it's cutting hair, shaving, or washing hair, my love for my girl will never diminish. But just open that thing, and you'll understand why you left me dumbfounded."
Fair fingers skillfully tore open the ropes and wrapping paper. Then came a shout of joy; immediately followed by, Oh no! It suddenly turned into the hysterical tears and wailing of a woman, requiring the apartment's owner to do everything possible to comfort her.]
It was a comb!
The thing Mr. A took out was the set of combs inserted into the hair—
A complete set for the temples and the back, everything needed;
It was the thing Mrs. A had long desired in a shop window on the busiest street far from the apartment, but it was too expensive, and she couldn't bear to spend the money to buy it.
It was made of pure tortoiseshell! A beautiful comb adorned with jewels!
Madame A's once-beautiful hair, now lost, couldn't find a more fitting color even if it tried.
Madame knew that this set of hair accessories was quite precious. She had admired it for a long time but never harbored hope of owning it. Now, surprisingly, it belonged to her. Yet, the hair that should have adorned these long-desired decorations was no more.
"..."
Han Jimei's mouth hung open.
She couldn't articulate her feelings at this moment.
However, the text vividly depicted Madame A's emotions: [She cradled the set of hair accessories in her arms for a long time. Only then could she lift her tearful eyes and, with a smile, say to her husband, "My hair grows quickly!"]
Then, Madame A took out a watch strap.
With anticipation, she looked at her husband and said: ["Is it beautiful? I searched the whole city to find it. Now, you have to look at the watch hundreds of times a day. Give me your watch; I want to see how it looks with the strap."]
Han Jimei gradually eased, revealing the practiced smile of an aunt.
Although Madame A sold her hair, her husband didn't get angry. He just sighed at the momentary loss of purpose for the comb—
Truly wonderful.
The story concluded with such a beautiful image, making one almost unable to resist the urge to fall in love, despite Han Jimei being a married woman.
She took a sip of tea.
Han Jimei looked at the last paragraph, thinking it might be a summarizing statement typical of short stories.
For example, "This is a beautiful love story," or something similar?
But upon reading the next passage, she nearly sprayed her tea onto the magazine:
[The husband didn't follow her words.
He just lay on the couch, hands behind his head, laughing: "Let's set aside the Christmas gifts for now; they are too good to use immediately. I sold the gold watch and used the money to buy your hair accessories."]
The story abruptly ended.
At this moment, Han Jimei was dumbfounded.