Xiao Qiao, Newly Wed
By Li Chunlin

1. Opening

Night brings a kind of emotional tension. Those once-silent surges of grandeur rise again from the faded stillness behind Meicheng, bursting forth in a flash of lightning and stone-splitting force. In that instant, a magnificent historical vision opens before us—azure clouds of history, crimson momentum long gathered and now released.

Yes, more than a thousand years later, at Xuehu in Qianshan, I have felt the dreamlike clash of swords and warhorses. In the night of Xuehu, I have encountered both the softness and the strength of Xiao Qiao as she once was.

 

 

Those sword-words that stirred the winds of change, those flames no one could cross—tonight they make Xuehu a sleepless realm.

And more, much more: those memories that pass through withered time, those expectations for another flake of snow, pure and profound—all of them tonight take on the slow stillness of water in the dark brown night of Xuehu.

2. Sequence

Tonight there is no sleep. A melancholy rising from the flow of water makes one feel that some long-prepared great event is about to appear in the form of a simple ceremony.

A soft breeze crosses the moonless lake, and thought gently touches the “almost but not quite real” neon lights before the eyes. In a dazed instant, it truly feels as though one has returned to the distant world of the Three Kingdoms.

Who was it? Who was it
that lit the butter lamp of that girl in Lord Qiao’s residence, allowing a hidden beauty to catch fire in the splendor of time?

Who was it? And who again
that drew a silent, lonely rain-lane into the sanctuary of political gesture?

From then on, early spring no longer carried only the language of soft winds; in the garden there were now also scattered flying shadows.

From then on, the pacing window no longer waited only for another mist of cloud, but held a dim and tender expectation.

Yes—are kings and nobles born to their fate?
Yes—must those secluded in inner chambers remain forever hidden?

With one sword, the gate of heaven opens, and all things contend in singular pride;
with one turning glance of charm, all hearts answer the rhythm of heaven.

From then on, Xiao Qiao was newly wed. Heroic in bearing, feather fan in hand, silk cap upon his brow, he smiled and in an instant enemy ships and oars were reduced to ash.

From then on, another moment carved into history appeared in rose-colored mist: flowers bloomed along the lanes and paths, and a little well moistened the garden with the stirrings of spring.

 

 

So it was that the warmth of wine and the blush of intoxication remained between heaven and earth. Beauty and the realm moved together like still shadows drawn toward one heart.

From then on, the sequence of time inscribed upon yellowing pages bore the vow:
“Only when the mountains lose their ridges and heaven and earth are joined would I dare part from you.”

3. Unfolding

Morning mist rises; rivers run dry; winter thunder roars; summer sees snow and rain together.

One person stands on the northern bank of the river, while the drifting veil of smoke stretches on and on, as ten thousand galloping horses draw ever nearer to Red Cliffs.

Schemes and lies created a strange and treacherous sky of events; wisdom and desolation witnessed, in a fleeting instant, the miracle of pursuit.

Flames dance with the autumn wind; rivers and mountains step together with beauty into lips red as fire.

Do you not see, in the mirror of a land so infinitely beautiful, how many acts of heroic devotion rush toward mountains and seas?

Do you not see, within the still flame of time’s beauty, how many long and solemn departures move southward?

 

4. Return

Enough now, enough now, enough now!

The war drums sleep, the horses return to their stalls, and beacon smoke becomes a receding shadow.

Those warriors who went far away return home, and those who waited are finally met with the comfort of embrace.

The journey of one group of people is for the life, land, happiness, and love of another group.

The departure of one group of people is to leave life, land, happiness, and love for another group to cultivate.

In the distant reaches held within the night scene of Xuehu, I still let my body sink into the low places of iron horses and frozen rivers.

Drawn by the mysterious delicacy of Xuehu, I still wish to send this hazy encounter on the lake back into history’s waiting.

Returning to long-lost memory, after a busy day, I found that from the entanglement of flowing water I had come to understand the historical construction and desolation within Xiao Qiao, Newly Wed.

On this night, I especially cherish these realizations:
“Suddenly, an old friend passes through the heart; turning back, one finds the mountains and rivers already in autumn,”
and
“I am bound with cause and effect, quietly awaiting the appointed return of all things.”

 

 

About the author
Li Chunlin, born in May 1968, graduated in 1990 from the Department of Education at Anhui Normal University with a bachelor’s degree in education. He is a Special-Grade Teacher of Anhui Province, a member of the Anhui Writers Association, a member of the China Prose Poetry Society, and a member of the Sichuan Prose Poetry Society. He has published nearly 500 poems and prose pieces in journals and newspapers including Poetry Monthly, Prose Poetry, Chinese Prose Poetry, Yecheng, Anqing Daily, Wanjiang Evening News, Huangshan Daily, Chizhou Daily, Anqing Radio and Television News, Contemporary Writers, and Chinese Literature. His published books include the poetry collection Lonely Wind and the prose poetry collection Blue Dream.