Hush | Teen Ink

Hush

June 15, 2022
By chrisshia03 SILVER, Wellesley, Massachusetts
chrisshia03 SILVER, Wellesley, Massachusetts
9 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The back alleys of Shanghai smelled of smoke, trash, and opium, a repugnant mixture that permeated the air. Lin carefully walked around the emaciated men passed out on the alleys. Chipped porcelain bowls lay around them. Mice scurried past like even they were disgusted by the sight. Though it was morning, the light barely made it past the jungle of clotheslines above. 
    Lin knew her way at this point. She had learned to not wear any of her nice qipaos to this area. She didn’t want to draw any attention. But still, she attracted eyes. Her full cheeks, pale skin, her posture while walking. It was so obvious to her now that she was not of this world. Still, she kept her jade ring on her index finger. 
    She arrived at the familiar door. She clenched her fists together and knocked three times short, then one time long, then three times short again. She tried to breathe normally, but the putrid scent of the alley made it difficult.
    A part of Lin wished Shan was not home. That would give her the perfect excuse to never tell Shan. Her conscience would be freer for it. 
    However, the door swung open violently. And out came Shan. 
    “Well, what a rare sight it is to see you,” Shan said. She leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed, chewing on something loudly. Lin always hated how loudly Shan ate. Shan eyed Lin carefully. She paused her chewing when her eyes landed on the jade ring on Lin’s finger.
    A particular scent hit Lin’s nose the moment Shan started speaking. “You smell like-” Lin said without thinking.
    “Why are you here? I thought you made yourself clear last time,” Shan interrupted.
    The woman was dressed not in her fancy qipao meant for customers, but instead of in gray rags common in this neighborhood. Her makeup was gone, her hair was let loose, but Lin still couldn’t take her eyes off her.
    Lin took in a breath of the smoky air. “I…”
    “Go back home. I’m sure your mother and father will be looking for you if you’re gone too long.”
    A disgruntled groan sounded behind Shan, speaking some strange language. In all of Lin’s studies, she had never heard that language before. She clenched her fists again, tighter than before. 
    Shan glanced behind her. “Some random European sailor came in yesterday. Paid damn well too. You know how all the foreigners are coming to Shanghai now.”
    “I’m getting married,” Lin blurted out.
    Shan gazed at Lin, eyes suddenly softening. “You don’t want to get married.”
    “You don’t know what I want or don’t want,” Lin said through gritted teeth. She desperately tried to stop her voice from shaking. Her hands grasped aimlessly at the edges of her shirt. Why did she come? This was just more difficult for both of them.
    Shan closed her eyes for a moment. The harsh lines on her face smoothed over for just a moment, before a scowl appeared, quickly changing like a Sichuan opera actor. “Alright, madam, please leave now, I have to take care of a customer.”
    “It’s in three weeks. The feng shui master said that was the most auspicious date.” Lin cursed under her breath. Why could she not control her words? No, she had to be calm. She came to inform Shan, not to expect anything. She rubbed her jade ring. It was the ring that Shan gave her, spending all her money for this gift, and Lin never took it off.
   “Why are you telling me this?” Shan’s voice grew harsher. “This has nothing to do with me!” Her gravelly voice echoed down the alley, drawing the angry shout of some old lady upstairs.
   “Hush! Don’t shout.”
    Shan rolled her eyes, scowl deepening. She turned around, her back to Lin. “You made it clear last time. We shouldn’t meet anymore. Go on and live your life, it’s none of my business.”
    Lin huffed and stomped her foot. “Aren’t you...aren’t you mad? Aren’t you-”
    “I don’t have the right to be mad. You and I...we’re not close enough for that..” Shan moved to close the door.
    “Wait! Come to the marriage! Please.” Lin could not control her words anymore. She lurched out, nearly tripping, holding the door open. 
    Shan paused her movement. “You’re afraid. Of marriage. Of your family. Of us. ” Hesitation flickered in her eyes for a brief second.
    “I’m not! And stop smoking that stuff. You’ll kill yourself!” Lin’s voice shook like an earthquake. She stomped away without faltering, for once. 

---

“This is a beautiful wedding dress. Is it not, Lin?”
“Yes, mother,” Lin responded. She looked at herself in the mirror. The bright red and golden hues of the dress indicated great joy and good fortune for her marriage. She also wore a golden headpiece, meant to mimic the shape of a phoenix. A crimson-colored veil covered her face, to be taken off by her husband after the wedding. Outside, relatives and family friends shouted and cheered as if they were the ones about to get married. Though winds of change spread throughout China in recent years, bringing Western ideas from the ports, many customs were still baked into the essence of the people.
Her mother in her bright red qipao stood with perfect posture, head raised high despite the circumstances of her family. The worn lines on her face did not reduce her beauty and elegance.
Lin sighed and rubbed her hands together, fiddling with her jade ring. It was one of the last things she could truly call her own. She opened her mouth to speak, and words dribbled out hesitantly. 
“Must we give him so much as dowry? We have so little left...”
Lin gazed around her at the nearly empty room. There was not much left in the house. Much had been sold to cover their debts, or given as dowry to her husband-to-be. The once-powerful Hu family, now reduced to selling furniture to make do. But still, the house was showered in red and orange for the wedding day, masking the emptiness somewhat.
Her mother managed a graceful smile. “Your brothers will soon...they will find a way. We are a good family, everything will work out.”
Lin always looked up to her mother, especially to her poise and calmness. Even when the Hu family scrutinized everything Lin's mother did when she just married Lin’s father, when her husband failed to return home for months on end, she kept her poise. 
However, Lin could barely even manage a neutral expression under her red veil. Every couple of seconds, she glanced out the window. She played with her jade ring on her finger, spinning it left and right. 
She knew she did not want to get married. But she had no choice. The oldest daughter of an esteemed family, unmarried? The reason why was the talk of the town. Perhaps she was infertile, or frighteningly ugly, or even worse…
Her mother had to shut them up by finding the best suitor around. 
Soon, the boisterous noises of drums and cheering people reached her ears. The palanquin with the marriage procession had arrived. Lin’s mother pulled Lin up.
“Mother, I…” Lin said before she realized she had nothing to say. 
“Be happy, Lin,” her mother said. Barely even a flicker of emotion. Graceful. Poised. Elegant. Everything a wife should be. 
She was a good daughter, Lin told herself. She would be a dutiful wife, a good Chinese woman, like her mother. Certainly not the woman who went to spend nights with a prostitute from the back alleys. Her mother continued to adjust Lin's wedding dress. She made sure everything was in place, every fold, every shape, every line on Lin's body. 
Lin stepped out into the courtyard while holding onto her mother. She could not see anything clearly with the red veil. Her heart lacked the resolve to conjure up fear, nervousness, anger, spite, anything. Sounds of gongs, cheers, and firecrackers nearly deafened her, but she continued on, a pleasant smile trapped on her face, though no one could see her face anyway. Her eyes searched for a familiar silhouette amongst the crowd, but even if Shan was there, Lin could not tell. 
Some of her younger cousins and family friends followed behind her as she stepped out the gate of the home. They oohed and ahhed, probably to the glamour of the procession. 
    Holding on the arm of a servant for balance, she got onto the palanquin. She sat down carefully, making sure her heavy headpiece stayed put. She folded her hands neatly in her lap. There were windows she could open inside, but she was afraid of not seeing what she wanted.
    Lin felt the palanquin rise and move. She sat there, barely a thought in her head, fingering her jade ring. Her heart refused to beat any faster. She sat in the palanquin as if it was her funeral procession.
    A part of her expected a defiant shadow of a woman to step out and whisk her away from the loud and suffocating relatives, the horrible decorations, and the overbearing family, to somewhere they could be happy together. 
    The palanquin stopped. 
    It was the first time Lin had seen her husband, Ming. She vaguely knew stories of him. He was the second son of the powerful Wang family. They were merchants who traded with foreigners, bringing with them strange Western instruments and gadgets. 
    With the red veil, she could not see him properly. She did not care for the faces of men, but she was curious. The matchmaker promised that their signs aligned and fates matched, and this marriage would be of good fortune. Lin did not know if fate liked to play games with her, or if the matchmaker was flat wrong. 
    Ming held her as she stepped off the palanquin. 
    “Lin, you have to step over something now. The pot with the burning weeds.” His voice sounded gentle. Would he be kind to her? Would he at least, somewhat care for her?
Something crackled and smelled of smoke in front of her. She knew it was a pot, with burning weeds inside. As she stepped over it, the evil spirits would leave her body, and this marriage would be happy and fortuitous.
Lin stepped over rapidly. The smoke stung her nose a little bit, but otherwise, nothing changed. None of her shameful thoughts disappeared with the evil spirits, it seemed.
    Ming led her inside, where they would perform the ceremony. Her senses blurred within the ocean of red beneath her veil. She vaguely felt her knees touch the floor and cloth being handed to her.
First, she felt the cold stone ground of the courtyard touch her forehead as she kowtowed to the spirits. Her jade ring clacked against the stone. 
Second, she then kowtowed to her ancestors. The ground scraped her veiled forehead.
Lastly, the final part of the ceremony, where the husband and wife bowed to each other. She could not see Ming's face. Did he want this? Was he also set up by his parents?
This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with.
Lin bowed deeply. She heard the cheers outside of great joy, she heard the mutterings of his family around, and she heard the sound of the flames dimming to a pile of ashy weeds. She did not hear the bright voice of the woman that she loved. 
And she straightened her posture. There was nothing to be done. 
As Lin was to be led away by an old woman, somebody shouted across the room.
“Wait!” 
A woman’s voice. The noise had been too loud to hear the voice properly, but it silenced the crowd. Lin turned her head, gasping lightly. Was it her? Did she come? She could not see well with the veil. Just the tiniest flicker of hope bloomed.
“You forgot the tea!” A young woman, probably a relative of Ming’s. 
“Ah, yes,” the old woman said. She quickly picked up a small cup of tea. “It’s a sweet tea. For good luck. There are some special herbs in here…”
“Thank you,” Lin said curtly. She drank it quickly, without tasting it. 
Let it cleanse her once and for all. She needed the fortune and good luck from these traditions if she was ever going to survive.
The bride waited in a room during marriage ceremonies and did not talk to any of the guests. An old woman from the husband’s family would eat some light food from home with her, waiting until her husband finished with the banquet. They would then consummate the marriage.
Lin had no clue what went on outside of the doors. She remembered eating, she remembered speaking some words to the old woman, she remembered breathing, but she did not remember feeling alive.
Her jade ring seemed to tighten around her finger as she waited. She took it off slowly, hesitating, and set it on the table, ridding the pain.
Lin glanced out the window, as night fell on Shanghai. The guests were slowly departing, laughing and drinking. They whispered about the rumors, of her falling status, of how lucky it was for a stupid, fallen, disgraceful woman to marry someone like Ming.
The doors creaked, and Lin raised her head. Through the veil, she saw a silhouette entering the room. 
“Ming,” Lin said quietly. She knew what was to come next.
She felt the man take a seat next to her. And he began to speak.
“I know what you have been doing with that woman from the brothel,” Ming whispered, words cutting through the layers of fabric between them. 
Lin’s body froze up. Rumors spread like wildfire. Her breathing grew harried. She dared not to make a single move. 
“She’s dead.”
“What?!” Lin shot up, heart pounding. “What did you…How...why?” Her voice grew weaker. 
“Opium overdose. I have been keeping an eye on you and her for a while now. People talk, Lin,” Ming said with an eerie calm. “You think any sensible man would marry someone like you? From a fallen family, with rumors of loving women too? I picked you for that specific reason though. You, and that woman...it’s so fascinating...” Even through the veil, Lin could see the twisted smile coming upon Ming’s face, unexpected, yet startlingly fitting.
Shivers ran down her back. Lin trembled as she sat back down, staring at the shadow of the man through her veil. Her heart refused to conjure up any emotion.
Lin could do nothing besides take it. 
“You will keep everything I just said hushed for me, won’t you,” Ming said. 
Her pulse calmed down, replaced by a chill that spread out to every part of her body. 
    Shan was not coming. Shan was never coming.
    Ming ripped her veil off, slowly advancing upon her. Lin dared not to meet his eyes. Her smile was still plastered across her face, her lips refusing to betray the fear and despair within her. Ming's arm hit the table, and something precious to her clacked against the floor, disappearing under the bed.
She finally saw Ming’s face. She had no opinions, no thoughts on his face. Was it handsome? Was it ugly? Was it well-formed? In the end, it wasn’t like her opinions mattered. It wasn’t like she mattered either. 



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