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Part I The finest deceit is to take another's shape so completely that no one ever sees through it. The first …

Part I The finest deceit is to take another's shape so completely that no one ever sees through it. The first guise Shi Qi ever wore belonged to an unnamed dead woman. She had died in a ruined temple, carrying a little silver and a letter meant for her younger sister. Shi Qi happened upon her, laid her to rest, and from that day on took her place in the world. At last, she had become someone else. Shi Qi looked at her reflection in the water and was well pleased, then turned and went back into the city. Yet when she stood before the house, she hesitated, until the girl rushed into her arms. That embrace was warm, and once it wrapped around Shi Qi, it held fast. Shi Qi did not dare return it. Her heart hammered like a drum. Faced with her elder sister returned from afar, the younger sister was like a little bird, chattering and bright with laughter. Why were the words people spoke so gentle, so gentle that once heard, one longed to hear them again? Whenever the girl smiled up at her, a tide would rise in Shi Qi's heart. Yet whenever she looked in the mirror, that face reminded her what she was: a fraud. Happiness slips away in an instant. Lies are always exposed in the end. She knew that well. Shi Qi could never sleep through the night, and often woke with a start. At such times, the girl would light a lamp and sit beside her. Even when neither of them spoke, her heart would slowly grow still. A swindler knows most of the tricks in this world, and has seen too many eyes filled with suspicion. Only this younger sister's trust was so warm, so fierce, that it left her at a loss. There was only one flaw in it all. The girl, too, had her unhappy moments. Whenever Shi Qi spoke of wanting a drink, her face would darken, as though she were about to cry. Then, on the night of the full moon, the girl came back with wine. The cups were filled, and Shi Qi's delight brimmed over with them. But by the third cup, she was no longer smiling. Little sister, who was it you were truly calling for? The finest deceit does not merely fool others. In the end, it may fool even the one who tells the lie. Perhaps she should have ended the charade sooner, told the girl that her true elder sister had long since died. But she had no such courage, nor did she wish to lose the only person in this world willing to light a lamp for her in the night. The moment she spoke, that elder sister would truly be gone, and Shi Qi would be nothing more than a blade of grass, something no one would ever stop to notice. The wine left her heavy and drifting, dim and wavering all at once. Shi Qi wept as though the ripples in the cup had become waves within her. Human beings were strange creatures. Alone and with nothing to rely on, one could live freely enough. Yet once one had family, one began to suffer. No one could tell her why. The moon shone on two lonely souls, each with no one else in the world. She raised her head, and through tear-blurred eyes saw the girl gazing back at her. Part II When a person is born into this world, life is like a river. In the first half of that river, the two sisters clung to one another. The younger one's eyes followed her sister and the merchant caravan as they departed, quietly waiting for the day when that other stream would flow back to meet her own. Her elder sister's embrace had always been warm. Whenever that hand came down in gentle pats upon her shoulder, her fluttering heart would settle. At last, her elder sister's figure appeared again before the house. She flung herself forward and embraced her, but her sister stood stiff and still, like a stranger. Her elder sister had changed. She had become timid and uneasy, often waking in the night. Whenever that happened, the younger sister would light a lamp and sit with her. As fear slowly gave way to drowsiness, the lamp too would gutter out. Those eyes rested on her, and she knew every word they wished to say. Little sister, will we never be parted again? We are the dearest kin in all the world, are we not? Just as in the old days, her answer was always the same. Yes. Life ought to have gone on so, plain and quiet, yet little by little she realized that this was not the one she had waited for. Her sister had never drunk wine. This one craved it as though life itself depended on it. The person before her was like some fragile little beast, curled beneath the light, her gaze full of fear and sorrow, as though she carried too many unspoken words and was only waiting for someone who could understand them. Then one day a letter arrived from a distant place. The younger sister stood in the doorway with it in her hands, not knowing what to do. Her elder sister would never return. The one who had come back was a fraud. Yet she wore exactly her sister's face. If she let her go, she would never again see that face. When she turned back, "Elder Sister" was sitting alone in the little courtyard, looking unbearably solitary. She watched her for a long while, then tore the letter to pieces and went out to buy a jug of wine. She filled one cup carefully and set it on the table, then looked up at the moon. The second cup she placed before the one beside her. The drinker grew drunk easily, and tears slipped down her face. In the first half of the river, the two sisters clung to one another. In the second half, the younger sister flowed on alone, sustained by a lie she chose to believe. Cruelest of all was this: people must die in the end, yet she had not been given enough time to ready herself for it. In the wavering water was a face that wore her elder sister's likeness. She looked at the one holding the wine cup and said nothing. Perhaps the deceit was simply too fine. Or perhaps she herself was willing to believe.