Starry River of the Sky (8 page)

As Rendi finished the story, he looked at all of them staring at him silently. “You said it didn’t have to be a good story,” he said crossly.

“No, it was very good,” Madame Chang said. “It was extremely interesting.”

“Yes.” Peiyi nodded. “I’m just surprised.”

At that, Rendi grinned. And then he was the one who was surprised, because everyone smiled back.

When Rendi finished his story, the sunlight had all but disappeared, and the night sky seemed to be swallowing the small inn. Even as Master Chao lit the large lantern in the open doorway, the blackness spread like spilled ink.

“So dark,” Mr. Shan said, to no one.

After telling his story, Rendi felt surprisingly talkative, and the thoughts he had been holding inside began to leak out.

“It’s because the moon is gone. It’s missing,” Rendi said.
“And the sky…” Rendi stopped. Did he dare mention the crying sky? Would they think he was crazy?

“Nonsense,” Master Chao said. “Missing moon! It’s just another moonless night.”

“Rendi’s right,” Peiyi said. “The moon is lost.”

“Well, we didn’t lose it,” Master Chao said. “Someone else can go find it. We have other things to do.”

Rendi swallowed his disappointment. No one cared about the moon, and the wails he heard in the night probably were just in his head. As if agreeing, the dark sky began to sigh—a sad, miserable whimper. When Rendi looked up, Madame Chang was standing in front of him, looking out the window. There was a sadness in her eyes that he did not understand.

“It is better to light a lantern than to bemoan the darkness,” Madame Chang said softly to herself, as if in a dream.

Peiyi heard her. “Can’t we light more lanterns, then?” she said eagerly. “To make up for the light of the moon?”

“More lanterns?” Master Chao said, and a worried look flashed over his face. He stroked the red cinnabar beads of his belt decoration the same way he touched the
beads of his abacus, and suddenly Rendi saw that Master Chao had much more pride than he did wealth. “Peiyi, it would just be a waste of lantern oil.”

Madame Chang slowly turned. “We can’t make up for the light of the moon,” she said to Peiyi. “But we can make some light without wasting oil.”

She walked out through the door, as graceful as a curving wisp of gray smoke. Rendi and the others watched, silently captive, as she plucked a handful of tall, dry grass from the front of the inn. Her silver outline seemed to glide against the sky, making her look like a night fairy. And when she lit the ends of the grass with a small flame, Rendi, Peiyi, Mr. Shan, and Master Chao drew around her like moths.

She smiled at them, holding the sheafs of lit grass as if they were incense sticks. The tips of the grass were burning orange embers, like bright seeds of light illuminating her face. Then Madame Chang waved her arm, and the embers glittered and scattered and flew in the darkness—a thousand tiny, glinting diamonds against the black silk of the night.

Madame Chang pulled a delicate, thin cloth from her
neck. With a swift motion, the sheer fabric billowed over the flashing sparks as if capturing them in a diaphanous cloud.

Indeed, they were captured, for after Madame Chang knotted the cloth, she was holding a soft, glowing bag of light. Rendi, Peiyi, Mr. Shan, and Master Chao stood with a mix of fright and amazement. What magic had Madame Chang done? Madame Chang handed the bag to Peiyi, who took it with hesitation.

Peiyi looked closely, and her face transformed from timidity to joyful wonder. “Fireflies!” she whispered, enchanted. “It’s a firefly lantern!”

The others crowded around, all fear disappearing. The bag was full of fireflies, and when Rendi looked up, there were hundreds and hundreds more—somehow summoned by Madame Chang. They were flickering and twinkling all around them, and Rendi felt as if he were in the Starry River of the Sky.

Mr. Shan whooped like an excited young boy. “Firefly lanterns!” he hooted. “You can read under this light too!”

With more energy and quickness than Rendi had ever
imagined he had, Mr. Shan dropped his walking stick and leaped across the yard, his long legs making him look like a prancing deer. His beard flapped behind him as he tried to catch fireflies with his sleeve.

“Come on, Rendi!” Peiyi said, giving the firefly lantern to her father to hang. “There are enough fireflies to make lanterns for the whole inn!”

Rendi couldn’t resist. Soon he found himself laughing a second time as he and Peiyi ran alongside Mr. Shan, collecting fireflies. Madame Chang supplied translucent cloth and paper for the gatherers, and Master Chao strung the lanterns on a line. The other villagers, attracted by the lights and noise, came out of their homes and were urged to join in by Peiyi and Mr. Shan. Soon, everyone in the whole small Village of Clear Sky was catching fireflies in front of the inn, enjoying themselves in a way they had not for a long time. Their faces were as radiant from pleasure as they were from the brightness, and even Widow Yan and MeiLan, unnoticed by Master Chao, gazed over the wall with smiles.

However, just as Madame Chang was handing Rendi another cloth, the sky gave a loud, plaintive wail, echoing
as if annoyed at being ignored. Rendi clutched his ears like he always did.

“Rendi,” Madame Chang asked, shaking him gently, “what’s wrong?”

“The night is crying!” Rendi said, unable to stop himself. “Don’t you hear it? It’s so loud!”

But Widow Yan, MeiLan, and the yard full of galloping villagers looked undisturbed, and Peiyi continued handing her father lanterns, obviously only hearing the sound of laughter. Mr. Shan was gazing at his bag of fireflies as if mesmerized. Had he heard it? Madame Chang looked at Rendi and stood very still. The wind moaned again.

“You don’t hear it?” Rendi asked, almost begging. Was he imagining it? He didn’t want to be crazy. “Peiyi and Master Chao and the villagers don’t hear it either! What’s wrong with me?”

“I hear it, Rendi,” Madame Chang said, putting her hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “But I hear it only faintly. There’s nothing wrong with you. You just hear it the most out of everyone.”

“Why?” Rendi asked. “Why me?”

The sky sent out another pitiful groan, and Rendi looked at her in confusion.

“Remember your story?” Madame Chang said. “The duke believed that if a listener truly understands, he can hear what others cannot. You must understand in a way none of us do.”

“But that wasn’t true,” Rendi protested. “The duke was tricked.”

“The duke
was
tricked,” Madame Chang said. “But that does not mean what he believed was false.”

The light of the firefly lanterns flickered, and shadows wavered over Rendi’s frowning face. At least he wasn’t crazy, he thought. Rendi looked up at Madame Chang, and a hundred questions formed on his lips. But when the wind gave another restless whimper, Rendi asked, “Did Tiwu ever find out the secret to peace?”

Madame Chang pressed her hand softly on Rendi’s shoulder and smiled. “What do you think?” she said.

Then she turned and left Rendi alone with his thoughts.

“No moon, no rain, no rest,” Rendi groaned to himself. Even though he was relieved that the night moans were not his imaginings, they still kept him up at night, making his sleep restless and poor. Peace could not be found in the daytime either. The sun baked the earth like a kiln, and Rendi felt like a hardened pot as he did his chores in the scalding sun. His frustration returned, and he again counted his days in the village with annoyance.

But when he watched Madame Chang come down the stairs for lunch, Rendi suddenly thought,
How stupid I’ve
been! Madame Chang came by foot. I don’t need to wait for a guest with a cart. I can just pack up my things and leave!
Rendi almost laughed out loud, his mood lightening.
Today
, he thought.
Maybe I’ll go today.

The others were in good spirits too, even the toad sitting next to Mr. Shan’s lunchtime bowl of rice. The toad’s wide mouth curved into something like a grin as Mr. Shan jangled the string of copper coins. The toad jumped as Mr. Shan jerked the coins, their clinking noises sounding like tiny bells. “Rabbit!” he said playfully to the toad. “Rabbit!”

“It’s not a rabbit. It’s a toad,” Rendi said. Poor Mr. Shan, always confused.

“Ah, but it jumps like a rabbit,” Mr. Shan said, looking at Rendi. Mr. Shan’s gaze was disconcerting to Rendi, who realized he had never looked directly into Mr. Shan’s eyes before. They were dark and deep, like the inside of the well Rendi gathered water from. But the expression in them was slightly lost, as if he were being led by a faint, faraway lantern.

“And maybe it is a rabbit inside,” Madame Chang said. “Even when WangYi’s wife was transformed into a toad, she was still herself inside.”

“WangYi’s wife?” Peiyi said. “Like in your story? The wife of the man who shot down the suns?”

Madame Chang nodded, and Peiyi seemed to bask in her glow. “Tell me,” Peiyi begged.

“That depends on Rendi,” Madame Chang said, looking at him. “If I tell another story, so must he.”

Rendi flushed, and it was not from the heat. He felt everyone’s eyes upon him again, and he shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said. What did it matter? he thought. He would be gone before he had to tell another story, anyway.