Fall of the House of Yang

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 267, 10 November 1937, Page 27

Fall of the House of Yang

8y... Theo. Greensiade

rE edict had gone forth that the emperor intended to build a wall— a wall wide enough for two carriages to pass upon its crest and extending from the north to the south of his domain. Each family had been ordered to send one male to work until the gigantic task was done, and every home without either husband or son had been commanded to send forth one female to serve in the workers' kitchens. The edict had gone forth, hut to Yang, proud remnant of a noble race, and old and bent with the passing of years, it had meant nothing. ''I have no sons," he reasoned. "These bones of mine are far too old to labour. Surely it will serve my emperor better if some poverty-stricken coolie is paid to work as representative of the house of Yang." So he banished the matter from his mind and gradually drifted back into the tranquillity that is the reward of age. But his peace of mind was only a respite. Basking one day in the sunshine of a warm afternoon and thrilling to the songs of crickets that hung in little wicker cages in his gardens, he was surprised to see a sedan chair brought to a stop just within his gates. From it clambered a figure, familiar in stature but a total stranger in the rich silk gown which he wore bedecked with the imperial yellow. The visitor passed a servant on guard and shuffled up the path. Hie whole attitude was half defiant, half afraid. He had almost reached the old man's side when Yang recognised him.

"Who gave Tsang, flic son of a turtle. 5 permission to enter my garden without my leave. Does the serviee of the emperor make a coolie so noble he no longer has to bow before a member of the ancient house of Yang?" he asked, not bothering to stand. The visitor bared his opium-stained teeth in a grin and slipped his hands in the sleeves of his long gown. "Yang may soon be glad to walk with turtles. Is not the company of Tsang to be desired more than working in the hot sun and sleeping with coolies from the paddy fields?" He drew from his sleeve a document. "The ancient Yang has no sons to give to his emperor. Perhaps his precious pearl of a. daughter, Atchi, can labour in their place." The old man's fingers tightened about his fan, but no change of expression crossed the stern old face. "Name your price." . Tsang shook his head and bowed mockery. Should I betray my emperor to line my own purse with gold? Oh, most revered one, though it takes the sunshine from my heart, one must be sent to do my masters bidding." For a moment hate gleamed from the old man's eyes as he cried, "A eon of a pig you were born, and as little pi«\s will grow your sons, but I will rro/' And with that, as if resigned late, he drooped his head. Days of Torn Emotions. Tsang stepped closer. There was eagerness in his voice. "If voll were the grandfather of my sons, not even the emperor himself could take you from your home." For the first time Yang lost his selfcontrol. "Go! cockroach!" he screamed If your mother were here I would spit upon her face. I " But suddenly he stopped. Minds battling against each other, neither had heai d the sound of footsteps nor seen a slight figure approaching along the garden path. But now, AtchT. her cricket cage dangling from one dainty wrist like the pendulum of a clock, stepped from behind Tsang to stand before her father. "Forgive her daughter if she speaks as does not become a maid," she beseeched. "But to-day I nrust be son and daughter both. Does my worshipful father not see that Tsang's thirst is not for gold, but for the daughter you have cherished all these years? Does he not see that I am the price that must be paid for saving disgrace from staining the pure walls of my father's toinb ?" Yang held up his hand for silence. | "My honoured father and his father before him were scholars, master of a noble house. Better I should slave with the coolies of the field th.a.n that my grandsons should have the blood of such a turtle in their veins." j The girl stepped closer to her father's side, her breast heaving with emotion. "There is none I love, and the time is ripe when I should leave my father's door. Though Tsang be twice base born it is no great disgrare for a daughter of Yang to be the chosen one of a favoured officer of the emperor. Better j is it by far than that her father end liis 1 days slaving with, the lowly bred."

Short Story

The old man shook his head, hut J.sang licked his lips and smiled. "The pearl of Yang is as clever as she is beautiful, ' he said. "Tsang could never • permit his treasured wife's father to I wear down his handsome nails even ' though it were for the emperor." ' He bowed, and being versed in the 1 art of driving a bargain, quietly turned » and walked slowly down the path. Atchi, as soon as he was gone, turned i from her father lest he should see two , tears that stole slowly from her almond shaped eyes and slipped down her soft ■ warm checks. ; Two days parsed. Two days of torn emotions, and once more Yang was ' seated, in his garden. But suddenly the j garden had grown bleak and bare. There seemed no music in the crickets' song ! and even the fish that glided in the > lily pond failed to interest him with : their golden beauty. He was ga-zing i steadfastly at the ground when Tsang • again approached, hut this time it was ' a different Tsang. There was confidence i in his step as he approached the i scholar's side. "Oh, most revered one," and he . bowed, "why does such sadness hide you i like the cloak cf night? Can your 1 humble servant ease the pain that dips i its fingers in your heart?" I Yang gave a start. Hate gleamed ; from his eyes, only to he replaced by - bitter resignation. "I am an old man I who sees his daughter dead. Worse I than dead, for death is noble when placed beside the 6hame of base-born

ons. To save those aged bones she goes to your side. I have sworn it on the grave of my father. May his spirit torment me in the days that are to come." The word of an ancient Chinese was hit? bond, and Tsang, his goal attained, unmasked. "So the turtle weds the scented flower of Yang. For many moons I have waited for this day. Not even the tongues of the most high will lie so base as to spit their poisons at the birth of one who claims for a wife the fairest daughter of the house of Yang. And when does Tsang possess his bride?" The old man's voice dropped almost to a whisper. "On the second day of the Rat her chair shall approach your j doors." Tsang bowed once more, half in I mockery, half in gratitude, and without another word withdraw and left him to his meditations. In a room in the palace Atchi, her shoulders shaking with sobs and big tears running unchecked down her cheeks, lay upon her bed. She had seen Tsang enter and depart, and from his step learned for certain that soon she would leave her father's home for the last time. She felt her heart must break a-s she thought of the grev-haired old man who was soon to be left alone with nothing but servants to comfort him. and of her own plight as the bartered bride of Tsang. She beat her tiny fists upon the bed until at last, worn out in body and soul she dropped off into a merciful slumber haunted only by dreams, mere shadows of the realities. Quickly the days went by. Time always travels fast when misery is its goal. Now the second day of the Rat was near at hand. "Only a few more hours." "thought Atchi. as she tossed sleeplessly upon her couch and gazed into the inky night about her. She had promised she would become the bride of Tsang and bride she would be, but what would happen after that—it was a secret which she alone held in her heart. Slowly the hours passed, and soon the dawn came stealing in. flooding her room with a greyish liprht. Another hour she waited, then arose to prepare for the coming ceremonies. (To be concluded.)