"How much does it cost... to buy spring?" Of course, I knew what she meant. But I didn't want her to know tha…
"How much does it cost... to buy spring?"
Of course, I knew what she meant. But I didn't want her to know that I knew.
So I said, "Depends who you're buying. Miss Chen from the east wing? That'll cost a hundred strings of copper coins. Miss Li from the west? A thousand. But your Miss Chun..."
"Want... want..."
"She's our top courtesan," I said, holding up a single finger and giving it a wag, "Ten thousand."
She left, murmuring "ten thousand" under her breath. She really believed it.
I hadn't lied. Miss Chun truly had been the pride of our house.
But now... she was old, sick, barely able to move.
At first, when she started taking medicine, the girl would crouch by her feet, refusing to leave.
Later, when Miss Chun couldn't leave her room, she'd let the clients come to her. The girl would squat at the door like a little stone lion.
Then Miss Chun grew paler day by day, her makeup thicker, her prices cheaper.
The wounds on her body multiplied, and so did the copper coins she clutched.
The deal was struck on a winter's day.
I was wiping down the tables when I heard a loud slap.
She had slammed three bloody copper coins onto the surface.
"I have... only... three..."
"Exchange. Spring... Chun."
She said "Chun" so clearly, I almost believed it really was the first word she learned.
"You just want Miss Chun? No refunds, no exchanges."
"Want..."
The boss's eye twitched, and I understood why.
He shot me a look and waved me over.
"Waiter. Take her."
I'm the Waiter.
Out of pity, I gave her the last scrap of straw matting from my house, then took her to see the body.
I was waiting for her to regret it, to wrap the corpse in the mat, to bury it properly.
But she didn't.
She didn't use the mat.
The body couldn't walk, so she simply lifted Miss Chun into her arms.
Her dress was soaked in blood. So were the coins.
The three strings of bloodstained coins landed in my hand.
A poor bargain, by any measure.
A corpse not worth dirtying her silver, not worth dirtying her clothes.
But she didn't care.
She ran straight into the spring.