An Apology

Xuxian looked at Yuanzheng and saw a tense, wary expression in his eyes. He was reminded of the time they had gone hunting on the mountains together, and stumbled upon a lone wolf. Yuanzheng's face when he had first seen the wolf had been much the same.

He followed Yuanzheng's gaze and saw for the first time the elegant young lady standing there glaring at them. Her maid looked petrified, eyes locked on the ruined fan lying on the ground in the puddle of tea.

Xuxian felt his heart sink. First Song Gongzi; now Mao Xiang? Would they never be done running foul of the rich and powerful?

He had never been a brave man, and he admitted honestly to himself that once again, he was afraid. Everyone knew Mao Xiang's petty ways and spoilt tantrums. She lived in an idyllic world, surrounded by luxuries and servants, whiling her time away with shopping, playing with her pet bird, and visiting her relatives. To her, these little mishaps were catastrophes which rocked her small world. But what really mattered was that Mao Yuan, her father, would give her her way in everything. He was a hard, calculating man, but he humoured her as if she was a child. He was proud of her beauty, and he found her capricious ways and temper entertaining. He let her have all the new clothes and trinkets she wanted, and gave her more freedom than many women in her station would have enjoyed. Whenever she came complaining to him, he would cluck indulgently and make a offhand motion to one of his men. The next day, the unfortunate person who had offended her would be found beaten up in an alley, often so badly they did not survive for long. If they were unlucky, their bodies would be found in the river where they had been tossed while unconscious, to drown. Needless to say the yamen never investigated these cases. It was always an unfortunate case of mugging, and there would be criers warning people solemnly to be more careful at night on the streets; and life went on.

Mao Xiang recognized Yuanzheng almost at the same moment, and her eyes widened.

"So it's you!" she gasped. "What an unlucky day for me--I have to see your ugly face again. You planned this, didn't you?" She took a step closer to him and thrust her chin out aggressively. "You're getting revenge on me, aren't you, for the other day? Admit it!"

Xiaohu gave a faint squeak of terror as he saw Mao Xiang's gaze flicker towards him, and he huddled against the wall. He had a healthy sense of priorities--staying alive came a strong first before anything else, even if it meant abasing yourself. He would have bowed to his enemy for a piece of roast pork, however, so it was not a big sacrifice. "Ah, have mercy, honourable Miss Mao! We didn't mean to offend you, oh no, how could wretches like us dream of offending someone like you, so blessed by the gods? Have mercy on us, Miss Mao, and let your magnanimity be as great as your beauty. It was an unfortunate accident--oh, curse that wretched waiter! It was his fault for tripping! If you wish to blame anyone, he's the person you should be looking for!" he shrilled desperately, pointing at the waiter, who started to wail.

Amid the noise of both Xiaohu fervently condemning the waiter, who fervently howled his innocence, Mao Xiang's eyes returned to Yuanzheng's face. "Are you going to pay me for this fan, then?" she demanded.

Yuanzheng swallowed. "With all respect, Miss Mao, I had nothing to do with it," he said defiantly. "You could see for yourself. I did nothing, I merely sat here. You simply had the bad fortune of passing by when our waiter tripped."

Xuxian gestured frantically at him to just apologize but Yuanzheng ignored him.

Mao Xiang raised her eyebrows. "Xiaojun, do you hear that? He's saying I'm unfortunate. What do you mean, I have bad fortune? Are you cursing me?"

"We wouldn't dare," chattered Xiaohu feverishly. "Of course not. How could we. Miss Mao is destined to live a long and prosperous life, and to be surrounded by every luxury and blessing. Don't get agitated, Miss Mao, you must take care of your beauty. What if you get frown lines?"

"Are you cursing me too, you little monkey?" snapped Mao Xiang, turning on him so suddenly Xiaohu gave a gasp of fright and shuffled behind Yuanzheng.

She turned on Yuanzheng, but before she could say anything else Suzhen rose to her feet.

"Miss Mao. The fault is mine. Please do not be angry with Yuanzheng." she said calmly with a low bow.

Mao Xiang turned her head with a frown. She looked at Suzhen for the first time, and her expression changed slightly. Without answering, she looked Suzhen up and then critically, lingering on the face, and gathered her lips into a tight line. She had always assumed that no peasant woman could possibly compare with her in terms of looks, and this was the first time she had actually felt insecure in front of one. Folding her arms, she said dismissively to hide her disorientation, "And who might this hussy be?"

Xuxian hastily got up and made a low bow. "This is my wife, Susu. I am the village physician. I apologize for startling Miss Mao so rudely, and ruining your fan. We had no idea you were behind us. Please forgive us."

Suzhen smiled sweetly. "Truly. Believe me, Miss Mao, I only thought of saving myself and my husband from having hot tea spilled over us. I did not know that you were behind me at the time, and I beg your pardon for giving you a fright. You are not hurt, I hope?"

Her graciousness was so disarming that Mao Xiang opened her mouth and closed it again, at a loss what to say. Suzhen's apology was one between equals, not a frightened plea for mercy she could exploit. She felt compelled to accept it at the risk of looking ill-mannered--something she would only have felt in the presence of those she saw as her peers. It didn't matter before peasants, of course. They wouldn't know what cultured behaviour was like anyway.