Chapter 12
Recompense
Thiet Nam paces back and forth. A second similarity lies in how this caravanserai arranges its wares on either side of the great hall. Upon the left, a row of cupboards crafted from hardy incense-purple wood stands in neat array. This timber is not only fair of grain but also wards off termites and all manner of vermin.
The cupboards are divided into three tiers: the uppermost displays a profusion of fine dishes, the middle holds a myriad of seasonings, and the lowermost stores diverse cooking vessels. The entire space is imbued with the faint scent of herbs that ward off mildew, refreshing the spirit.
As years pass, this wood deepens in hue, even assuming a dark crimson aspect. Yet, at this moment, it still retains its original reddish-orange tint. Thiet Nam surmises that this caravanserai may be newly opened.
A deep, mellow fragrance of agarwood slowly pervades the air, as if piercing through the senses. Thiet Nam follows the scent to the right. There stands a row of lofty shelves, stretching from the main entrance to the rear courtyard exit, soaring nearly to the rooftop. The owner of this shelf bestows upon it the name: "The Realm".
The scent of agarwood mingles with the potent vapors of hundreds of wines upon the shelves. On the lower shelves, plebeian spirits are orderly arranged: rice spirits, forest-leaf brews, fermented fruit wines, chrysanthemum wines, fragrant-herb brews, and the famed Mau Son spirit. Above these, the wines are arranged according to their station.
Above the commoners' wine stands the Wind‑Water Lyrical Wine—ethereal and soaring, poetry‑steeped and brimming with inspiration for the literati.
The Hero's Wine is dizzying and intoxicating, its spell of drunkenness is unending; quaffed more than plain water, it belongs to the wandering swordsmen and wayfaring knights of the rivers and lakes.
The "Gentle Maiden" wine induces a soft, rosy intoxication; a drink that brings a flush to the face and a bloom to the cheeks, making a lady even more beautiful, and it is greatly loved by noble ladies and daughters of distinguished clans.
Wines favored by imperial court officials are of two kinds. One is the "Pillar of the State" wine; drinking in moderation keeps the mind clear and the wits sharp. Yet, if they indulge in excessive revelry, they fall into a stupor, losing all sense of where heaven and earth lie.
Next is the "Saints and Gentlemen" wine. Those immortal crimson words crash like a heap of sacred books upon Thiet Nam's head. The characters of 'Saints' occupy an entire corner of the shelf, while the characters of 'Gentlemen' stand small as flies and gnats.
Thiet Nam laughs with smug mirth, for this satirical brushwork has always been specifically intended for those hidebound Confucian scholars and pedants who have sat at the bottom of a well gazing at the sky, scrutinizing life with half an eye, yet loving to speak of benevolence and morality.
They have ever proclaimed that the gentleman does not contend with life, yet they have prattled on—moving the tongue but never the hand. To raise the hand is to contend with life; to wag the tongue is to lecture on human affairs. Compared with contending in struggle with life, who then has been the baser man?
In sharp contrast to the long-backed, cloth-wasting crowds are the majestic and awe-inspiring generals. Those despised by the imperial court officials are the rough men of arms—warriors who cherish the "Song of Triumph" wine in celebration of mighty victories; they drink endlessly and seldom grow drunk, yet once deep in their cups, they babble without cease: "No return home 'til drunk."
Thiet Nam stands on tiptoe to gaze at the highest shelf, where the "Emperor's Wine" is reserved—a vintage he has never tasted.
He envisions its flavor: spicy yet not harsh, pungent yet not intoxicating, with the fragrance of flowers and leaven assailing the nostrils as if sending one to the heavens. The soul soars, and the spirit finds peace. Such is the character of the Emperor's wine. A ruler's thoughts and spirit must be eternally steadfast.
From commoners to wanderers of the rivers and lakes, from ladies to imperial court officials, from generals to the Emperor, all kinds of wine are fully displayed. Yet in this mundane world, there are not only those who spend money, but also those who contrive ceaselessly to extort wealth from the money-bags of the people in the realm. Strange it is that Thiet Nam sees not the one deemed lowest among the four estates: the merchant.
Thiet Nam glimpses the landlady sitting with her chin in her hands, and surmises in his heart: Luu Tinh likely fears the ridicule and scorn of the multitude, and the censure of the magistrates for daring to place merchants alongside the exalted aristocrats; thus, she 'omits' the display of the merchant's wine.
Merchants have often been belittled, viewed as crafty and deceptive—only 'villainous traders' can eat coin to beget coin with the swiftest and greatest abundance in the realm. Perhaps for this reason, merchants have been the most slighted among all classes?
How laughable. If grain is lacking and hunger gnaws at the throat, if thirst is like a raging fire, and there is no coin to levy troops or purchase arms—even if one possesses the talent of a saint, he is but a starving ghost.
To obtain grain and weapons, one must first have money. When speaking of money, one must speak of the merchant. Since time immemorial, these pedantic doctrines have despised those who beget coin, which hath been most contemptible.
He had drunk strong liquors specially reserved for merchants in many places. Most of them had no special qualities other than being more pungent than others. The more he thinks, the more he wants to taste the wine fermented by Luu Tinh's own hands.
He surmises that this wine is intended primarily for bilateral mercantile dealings, so the spirit should be mild. Once someone is urged to drink excessively, the herbal substances brewed in the yeast will produce delusions, making it easy to lose discernment and give rivals an opportunity to take advantage.
The taste of that wine seems to constantly remind all to remain watchful at all times and in all places, especially during trade. Just like Luu Tinh's actions when she takes out money; she always counts the coins slowly, recording them bit by bit in the ledger, while occasionally glancing at him.
If the guest does not notice, she silently continues her calculations. However, whenever their eyes meet, she offers a faint smile and lightly raises her hand, as if signaling the guest to be at ease, just like being in their own home—cordial yet carrying a sense of being unpredictable.
Thiet Nam turns toward both sides of the hall with composure, his gaze sweeping toward the winding staircase leading upstairs. He raises his eyes to observe but discerns nothing unusual. Standing between the two staircases is a tall wooden shelving close to the ground-level roof. The shelves stand ten paces from the counter, laden with all manner of tomes, from common folk tales, folk songs, and proverbs to the Four Books and Five Classics for scholars preparing for the scholarly examinations.
Even more interesting is a pile of peculiar tomes on the shelves, authored by some blond-haired, blue-eyed Westerners. Luu Tinh waits for a long time while Thiet Nam continues to admire the scenery; then the landlady comes over to speak:
- If you are interested in any tome, you may take it at will; just return it to the shelf after reading.
The landlady smiles and points to that Western tome with the peculiar title in his hand. On the leather cover is an engraving of a group of merchants riding camels across the desert. She says softly:
- Oh, that is one of my most cherished tomes. Did you ever traverse the Silk Road?
Thiet Nam gives a slight smile and confesses to the landlady:
- I do not know how to read this tome. I saw it in the hands of Westerners in the past. It was merely out of inquisitiveness.
Luu Tinh laughs softly:
- Haha, I like straightforward people. Do you want to eat or stay the night?
Thiet Nam casually returns the tome to its original place:
- What is the least costly chamber?
Luu Tinh replies:
- Ten copper coins per night.
- How much is a servant's daily wage?
From the moment he entered the caravanserai, that strange guest has only looked around, yet has not mentioned a word about staying. He has inspected everywhere carefully, looking with great interest. The landlady asks if he wants to stay or eat, but he asks all manner of questions, seemingly to evade the point.
A few days prior, a menial from a rival inn had been apprehended by the landlady while he was skulking about. Now, such a dubious fellow has suddenly emerged. This makes Luu Tinh have to be on guard. She coldly sizes Thiet Nam up from head to toe:
- Why do you care about these things? Planning some ill intent? Although we are all women and maidens here, we are by no means easy to bully!
Thiet Nam looks bewildered. The words he wants to say are very peculiar, and for someone as sensitive as Luu Tinh, even more unusual. But having no choice, he has to state the reason. That unbelievable reason only increases the suspicion.
Luu Tinh is naturally suspicious, deeply fearing that a spark from a cracked hearth can burn the house. Her instinct tells her that the man before her might not be simple. Thus, she does not hesitate to raise her voice and command:
- Everyone, surround him!
The girls suddenly rush out from all directions, raising their weapons to quickly encircle Thiet Nam. Thiet Nam frowns slightly, finding himself trapped in a pentagram-shaped formation. Countless girls block every path of retreat, leaving him under absolute pressure.
Luu Tinh keenly observes that Thiet Nam's gaze is aiming at the point of least resistance of the formation. She knows clearly in her heart that before the formation is fully formed, Thiet Nam has the strength to break through easily. However, he makes no move. He wants to show sincerity. Luu Tinh hesitates for a moment, then signals the girls to hold.
The landlady stares coldly at Thiet Nam, her gaze like a sharp blade cutting through the air:
- Who are you? Confess quickly! Half a word of a lie, and I will hand you over to the Imperial soldiers for punishment!
The tense atmosphere forces Thiet Nam to speak. He clicks his tongue and exhales, trying to force himself to stay calm:
- I have told you, I am a fighter participating in the martial contest. I have had no coin, and the villagers have shunned me. I have come to this tavern to seek a way to recompense my stay.
However, his sincerity is not enough to dispel Luu Tinh's suspicion. The landlady continues to question him:
- Then where is your wooden plaque as a registered fighter?
Thiet Nam gives a bitter smile and slowly recounts the process of his arrival in Lang Chau. He omits the riot at the ethnic market and those fragments of recalling the past; he also conceals the fact that he had once touched the mountain girls in the fields.
- I had to find a place to seek shelter from the rain, so I haven't had time to register at Mau Son yet.
The maidens cover their mouths and break into stifled giggles. He never revealed those unmentionable matters in the fields. Yet the mountain girls still stare at him with vicious eyes.
Since returning to the tavern, the mountain girls' moods have been like dark clouds before a storm—ebbing and flowing unpredictably. Some girls have fretfully kicked baskets and crates; others have been like powder kegs, prepared to explode at any moment, arguing with guests until their faces are flushed. A few others have complained that their legs were bitten by leeches and they must apply salve, then have remained holed up in their rooms, refusing to come out.
Nguyet—the youngest mountain girl—has been in a trance and preoccupied. She has usually been timid and shy, but never like today, answering only after being asked for a long time. Facing him, she shyly lowers her head, covering a face more crimson than it was in the afternoon. That incomprehensible attitude of hers was then fully betrayed by her strange behavior now.
Luu Tinh observes this guest carefully. His skills are clearly superior to ordinary people. His appearance is quite plain—not handsome, yet not ugly. His eyes are brighter than the stars, but they hide endless sorrow. A flicker of melancholy often floats on his face, as if he carries some heavy burdens that cannot be told to anyone.
Those who are distressed, harboring melancholy that they can neither describe nor wish to reveal to anyone—this state of mind is most likely to enthrall the souls of the girls. However, the mountain girls are dissatisfied with him. Their attitude is cold, even defensive. The landlady holds back a smile, certain that they must have met in the afternoon, perhaps hiding some mutual secret.
- You don't have a fighter's wooden plaque; who on earth believes you! This caravanserai has always had only women and maidens. If a man is suddenly appearing, it is surely provoking scorn.
He interrupts her:
- Then I shall not trouble you further.
He turns to leave when the girls move swiftly, surrounding him even more tightly and blocking all paths of retreat. The landlady shakes her head lightly:
- Your origin is unknown; do you think this place is a market where you can come and go as you please?
Thiet Nam heaves a long sigh:
- I don't want to hit girls!
- Dare to value men over women? - The landlady smiles gracefully - You deserve to be beaten!
The formation launches an attack from all directions simultaneously. Thiet Nam rushes out with extreme speed. They fail to hit the target; blades shatter tables and chairs, and long staves crack the floor. He ducks under the oncoming weapons, his hands rotating as he pushes several mountain girls away, sending them tumbling into the distance.
As soon as the retreat path opens, the sound of staves and swords twisting the wind attacks him from behind. He quickly darts to the right; suddenly seeing Nguyet's shadow, even though he knows he will be hit, he still awkwardly changes direction. He concentrates his strength in his back to withstand the heavy blow, then leaps high to avoid the deadly strike.
- Don't even think about escaping!
The landlady loudly commands everyone to give chase. Everyone leaps into the air at the same time as Thiet Nam, moving in absolute silence, swinging their staves down toward his head. However, the formation does not exert its intended power.
In the mountain girls' hearts, the remnants of what happened in the afternoon have been lingering, so they are attacking him haphazardly. It is not like a few days ago, when every vital point of that troublemaker had been accurately struck by them.
The mountain girls are now entirely focused on swinging their weapons to vent their anger. Luu Tinh rubs her forehead with waning interest, too lazy to watch Thiet Nam wave his hand to seize all the staves and push the girls to the ground.
Suddenly, a hooked chain surges from beneath the floor, wrapping around his legs as fast as lightning and dragging him into the formation. He reacts swiftly, throwing a stave to force the girl controlling the chain to release her grip. Before Thiet Nam even touches the ground, the girls descend upon him from all directions like lightning, various weapons stabbing and slashing at his body's weak points.
The killing moves force Thiet Nam to be more cautious; his body rotates into an arc as he resolutely counterattacks. Luu Tinh's spirit is shaken; in those half-closed 'laksa-leaf' eyes of hers, two intersecting arcs flicker, as if he possesses the arts of body-fission.
Her eyes glow with radiance as she discovers that Thiet Nam's astonishing speed has actually caused her eyes to see afterimages. Screams immediately pierce the caravanserai; his fists and kicks strike accurately on the girls' wrist joints, causing weapons to drop one after another with crisp "clanging" sounds.
The battle ends, and Thiet Nam suddenly feels a chill blast down toward his head from above. He has just broken the encirclement when Luu Tinh swings a short blade from on high, slashing diagonally down toward his shoulder.
Thiet Nam avoids this mortal blow just in time, but the sharp blade still tears his clothes, laying bare the tattoo on his arm. Luu Tinh pursues him but suddenly comes to a halt, her gaze focusing intently on the writing on Thiet Nam's arm:
- Lam Thiet Nam, a Tribal Border Warrior[1]. - Luu Tinh raises her eyes - Are you a soldier?
The landlady clears her throat, suppressing the surrounding whispers. The girls fall silent instantly; no one dares to make even the slightest sound.
- The Sa Cap chieftain had been deceased for a long time.
Thiet Nam says sorrowfully:
- Since then, the division under his command had been disbanded.
The Tribal Border Warriors under a chieftain's rule have been a mountain force that has never followed the soldiers-as-farmers system.
Throughout successive dynasties, the Imperial Court has nominally permitted the chieftains to exercise autonomy, has granted them official ranks and fiefdoms, and has consistently treated them with the status of submissive vassals.
The chieftains have remained independent in trade and territory, have possessed their own armies, and their relationship with the Imperial Court has often resembled a form of alliance.
These fickle powers have repeatedly wavered between pledging allegiance to Dali or submitting to Dai Viet, forcing the Emperors, since the Ly Dynasty, to either bestow titles or utilize suppression to subjugate the chieftains. Since the Ly Dynasty, the Emperors have occasionally given princesses in marriage to the chieftains, forming marital bonds with these mountain leaders to foster a close-knit tie between the two sides.
The manpower of the Tribal Border Warriors has been drawn from the local populace, and their selection criteria have always been extremely stringent. They have never accepted the frail or the disabled, nor have they recruited market ruffians or those with unknown lineage. During the course of military training, those with weak constitutions, as well as those who are selfish, narrow-minded, possess the petty nature of a base person, or lack humanity, have been entirely eliminated.
The Tribal Border Warriors have maintained absolute loyalty, obeying only the orders of the chieftain. However, in individual instances, if a chieftain has passed away, the army under his command has often disbanded.
Luu Tinh has confirmed that the characters on Thiet Nam's arm have been inscribed by Sa Cap chieftain himself. For aside from Sa Cap, no one has ever known how to inscribe the first character so deeply into the flesh, while the final character has manifested a pattern of veins, appearing much like living blood vessels. The landlady asks:
- What recompense do you seek?
Thiet Nam answers immediately:
- Can I serve as a house servant to recompense my lodging?
Everyone stares at him with wide-eyed astonishment.
Luu Tinh faintly divined Thiet Nam's intent as he inquired about the shelter dues and a servant's pittance. These two matters were inherently discordant, yet for a fellow who remained penniless, it was quite another tale.
The landlady had, until just a moment ago, suspected him of spying, but she is now certain that he harbors no ill intent. Because in the recent clash, Thiet Nam has stayed his hand against the girls and revealed his true identity as a Tribal Border Warrior. In a few days' time, the inn will welcome a great multitude of guests, and by then, Thiet Nam will surely prove to be of great use.
With this in mind, Luu Tinh accedes to his request:
- A house servant's wage is five Tinh Bach coins a day, which is enough to settle the lowliest shelter dues. If you perform excellently, you may even receive a fivefold reward. - Luu Tinh turns her head to glance at the girls and adds - If they give their consent, you may dine with them for free!
He presses his palms together before his chest and bows his head slightly to fulfill the rites and express his gratitude[2]. The maidens wish to protest but dare not speak out. The mountain girls shake their heads one after another, refusing with finality. One girl stands forth on behalf of her sisters and says:
- Landlady, we absolutely do not wish for this lecherous knave to abide here!
The landlady conceals a light laugh behind her hand, her tone carrying a playful hint of teasing:
- Why do you harbor such prejudice against him? He has just shown himself to be one who tenderly cherishes flowers and treasures jade. I have not seen him touch any forbidden place in the slightest. To curse him as a lecherous rogue is surely a bit too excessive, is it not?
Upon hearing the landlady's jest, there has immediately arisen in the mountain girls' minds that scene from the fields just a moment ago—a sight that has left one caught between tears and laughter.
A sensation, far more loathsome than being struck by a bolt of lightning, has coursed through their entire bodies even until now, causing them to shudder involuntarily.
A stifling resentment chokes their throats, and tears well up in their eyes, almost bursting forth from their sockets. Unfortunately, if pressed too hard, the fact that he has sullied their precious bodies might be brought to light.
Luu Tinh rests her chin on her hand, watching the mountain girls stomp their feet and swing their arms in a huff as they return to their rooms. The younger girls ask for the landlady's permission and quickly chase after their sisters.
The landlady purses her lips, noticing Nguyet awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of her garment, looking as if she has something to say but hesitates. Luu Tinh smiles encouragingly at her. The maiden lowers her flushed face, surreptitiously hiding her hands to conceal that telltale habit. Luu Tinh sees that Nguyet wants to follow her sisters, yet the maiden flinches as if harboring a secret. Thus, the landlady intentionally lets out a cough and says:
- I am truly getting old! Nguyet, go and fetch some medicinal herbs for me!
The cough herbs are in Luu Tinh's room; the trouble is Thiet Nam stands there, blocking the shortest way to it. Luu Tinh watches Nguyet's figure; the maiden hesitates, beginning to detour in another direction.
- Time waits for no one! - The landlady rubs her forehead, speaking nonchalantly. - The old wither quickly, and the young ripen apace - She slowly opens her weary eyelids and sighs deeply. - I truly wish this old woman could be twenty years younger!
Luu Tinh opens a large sack on the counter and leisurely takes out thirty precious Luminous Jade statues depicting the girls. Each "maiden" is endowed with a unique and exquisite beauty, as if they were masterpieces of heaven. Earlier this afternoon, the beloved of her dreams has bestowed upon Luu Tinh this treasured jewel. Having been occupied with guests, the landlady has only now placed it in the most honored spot of the great hall.
The landlady, her face beaming with smiles, gazes at each pearl statue with profound affection. Her loving gaze is fixed upon these treasures, as if she is admiring her own beloved daughters. Luu Tinh lifts the curve of her crimson lips in a mischievous smile, speaking to Thiet Nam:
- These thirty statues are all carved from raw jade! If you dare to sully these 'Luminous Jades of my palm', I guarantee that you will never be able to wed a wife for the rest of your life!
He is breaking into a chuckle at the veiled threat; it implies that once having defiled the 'Pearls', he is having to 'take care' of them thoroughly, lest he remain unwed for the rest of his life.
- I am currently wondering how I am enduring the next ten days.
The landlady waves her hand, her tone nonchalant:
- Let it be. It is the middle of the night, and you are still here 'painting dragons and phoenixes'? Leave it be for now; clearing it all away on the morrow.
Thiet Nam does not stop his actions; he rolls up his sleeves and begins washing the dishes:
- Today's work should not be deferred until tomorrow.
Once all the chores are completed, he asks where his room is located. The landlady replies with a smile:
- Go around the wine shelves, turn left, walk straight to the backyard, and find the room with the brown door; the black door opposite it is yours.
Thiet Nam nods in farewell and immediately picks up his belongings to leave. When he walks behind that row of wine shelves, his steps suddenly halt; he lifts his eyes to stare at the rows before him.
Although smaller than those of "The Realm", they are arranged with impeccable order, clean and fresh, exuding a unique and fragrant aroma. The collection is proving so rich that it is not paling in comparison to 'The Realm'.
The only regret is that these wine shelves lack the solemnity and majestic aura of the Emperor's Wine Tiers. Thiet Nam turns his attention to a scene: a fleet of merchant ships sailing far, crossing the vast ocean. This image of the merchant fleet is captured within a giant revolving lantern, illuminating the wine shelves.
On each tier, thousands of exquisite wine bottles are displayed, crafted from various materials—ceramics, gold, silver, jade, and lapis—exuding a mellow yet illusory perfume.
Thiet Nam chuckles, for this scent was exactly as he had imagined. A conjecture flashes through his mind: placing the Merchant wine shelves behind the 'The Realm' wine shelves... perhaps it is a subtle expression, symbolizing the desire to serve as the Imperial Court's pillar with wealth, goods, and men.
The fruits of such dedication are indeed immeasurable. Thiet Nam chuckles to himself, thinking that a merchant's loyalty to the realm must always be accompanied by profit. This is not strange, nor does it merit criticism.
A merchant, after all, remains a merchant; the essence of business lies in seeking profit, and no merchant can bear suffer loss in trade. A full stomach must precede the Way. As long as they remain loyal, do not betray the country for personal gain, do not plot rebellion, and do not harm innocent civilians, the Imperial Court may choose to turn a blind eye to everything else—including their reckonings—allowing them to reap their rewards. It is precisely because of such "forbearance" that the lifeblood of the nation's treasury never runs dry.
Thiet Nam nods, finding this underlying meaning quite intriguing. He walks briskly toward the backyard.
This area is moderate in size, with a lake built in the center where various fish swim freely around the rockeries.
Different from ordinary people, the landlady had meticulously carved a rockery, shaping it into the image of a majestic female general, the appearance of a heroine who refused to be bound, reminding Thiet Nam of the disposition of that elegant and charming landlady—she was decisive and uncompromising. Once a suspicion arose, she would strike immediately, her majesty not paling in the slightest compared to any man.
Therefore, this rockery has also been shaped into the likeness of a brave female general. Such a mindset has hinted at her determination never to lead a submissive life nor to allow men to ordain her destiny, having revealed her dissatisfaction with the dominance of men and a resolve to escape the stale fetters of feudal etiquette.
The age-old rules of etiquette, especially those so-called exemplary feudal moralities, have seemed solemn but have become the shackles binding women for generations. From ancient times to the present, women who have dared to harbor the thought of no longer relying on men have been few and far between.
Luu Tinh hopes that they can be as strong and resilient as she is. She does not wish to see herself, and especially those 'daughters' she regards as the Luminous Jades of her hand, suffer any grievance, suppression, or persecution. Therefore, the straightforward and feisty landlady has imparted all of her talent and wisdom to these 'daughters'.
Thiet Nam had nigh suffered ruin, had he not spent all his strength to ward off the deadly blows. Recalling the moments in peril when he had been oppressed by countless deadly techniques, he still feels a chill, secretly marveling at how the girls have to be self-strengthening.
Having appraised the girls, he surveys his surroundings. On both sides of the backyard are long rows of rooms; the corner of his mouth twitches because his room faces a room hanging a plaque carved with a crescent moon pattern. Suddenly, the brown door slowly opens, and the person walking out is Nguyet—the girl he fears seeing the most.
Nguyet awkwardly returns to her room and closes the door. Lurking in a dark corner at the far end of the corridor, Luu Tinh giggles and titters, while Thiet Nam shakes his head, scratches his forehead and clucks his tongue, sighing:
- What do you mean by intentionally letting me stay in the same row of rooms as a flock of Luminous Jades?
Luu Tinh shrugs helplessly:
- It cannot be helped; this is the only unoccupied chamber. The martial contest assembly is about to begin, and numerous travelers and merchants will arrive, so other rooms must be reserved for them.
Thiet Nam lifts his face and sighs, looking at the sky, while the landlady covers her mouth and chuckles.
- You are afraid I might defile those Luminous Jades, yet you deliberately let me live next to this raw jade. - He tilts his head and says half-jokingly - If I am careless and scratch the jade, do not blame me!
Luu Tinh raises two fingers in the shape of scissors, directing the "weapon" toward Thiet Nam's lower body, mimicking the motion of pinching and cutting:
- You want to become a eunuch, right?
While the two jest outside, the Luminous Jades inside the room are both angry and embarrassed, unable to stop themselves from shouting:
- You libertine! Dare to play any tricks, and this lady will slaughter you!
- Get lost, you debaucher!
- I am weary of you two. Will you let people sleep peacefully?
Luu Tinh bursts into laughter upon hearing this and turns to leave. However, she secretly takes off her shoes and quietly steals back, wanting to see if anything interesting happens. But she finds nothing and returns to her room with slight disappointment.
Footnote
[1] According to Ly Thuong Kiet, a book on the diplomatic and religious history of the Ly Dynasty.
[2] This ancient Vietnamese greeting symbolizes sincerity and respect: hands folded together in front of the chest, head bowed slightly at about 15 degrees. Ancient texts mention that "the left hand represents Yang, the right hand represents Yin, and the union of Yin and Yang is the Dao" (the interaction of Yin and Yang is called the Dao), reflecting the ancient Vietnamese people's philosophical pursuit of harmony.