Chapter Twenty-Five: The Monthly Visitor

“Look at this weather—tomorrow will be another sunny day. Brother Tian said if we air it for one more day, the lacquer will dry completely and we can sleep on it. Then you can have the bed, I’ll take the couch, and we’ll both have more space.”

Only then did Gan Sui realize his miscalculation—he would lose the privilege of sharing a bed with her. That wouldn’t do; he had to find a way.

“What are you thinking about? Look at this…”

Gan Sui snapped out of his thoughts and looked at what Banxia was showing him. “I embroidered this. Isn’t it lifelike?”

Lifelike? Was that supposed to be a centipede? Gan Sui’s survival instinct told him he couldn’t speak the truth. “It’s very well done.”

“I knew it! I do have a talent for this. They say bamboo represents integrity and resilience, so I embroidered it on your clothes to praise your character.”

So it was supposed to be bamboo.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Banxia waved her hand. Gan Sui, ever observant, noticed small marks on her hands.

“What’s this? Did you prick yourself with the needle?” He took her hand to examine it—it was more than a few.

Banxia grew embarrassed. “I’m still learning needlework; it’s easy to prick myself by accident.”

“Then you shouldn’t practice anymore; your hand is covered in marks,” Gan Sui said, gazing at her soft, fair fingers. He gently put them to his lips. Banxia pulled back as if scalded. “What are you doing?”

“Saliva is disinfectant,” Gan Sui replied solemnly, uttering nonsense.

Banxia ignored him, turned her back, and curled up on the bed. “I’m going to sleep.”

Gan Sui didn’t expose her embarrassment. There was plenty of time ahead, after all.

The next morning, Banxia woke with a sense of foreboding. Something familiar was leaving her body. Her heart skipped a beat as she hurried to find the cloths she kept for her period. Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to ask Hui Niang to make extra for her. Otherwise…

Missing modern sanitary pads on the thirtieth day in ancient times—how miserable.

Gan Sui noticed her rushing about. Stomach troubles?

When Banxia emerged from the latrine, she felt utterly drained and collapsed into a chair.

“What’s wrong? Is your stomach upset?” Gan Sui asked with concern.

Banxia replied awkwardly, “It’s nothing, really.”

Gan Sui assumed she was simply putting on a brave face so he wouldn’t worry. He knelt down and felt her forehead. “No fever. Should we go to the city to see a doctor?”

“I’m fine, really… just… just…” Banxia whispered, “It’s that time of the month.”

Gan Sui understood after a moment’s pause. Trying to appear calm, he asked, “Does your stomach hurt? Do you want some brown sugar and ginger tea?”

“Well, well, someone’s experienced, even knows about brown sugar tea,” Banxia said, half teasing, half sour.

“Where do you think I learned it? The internet’s so advanced these days, there’s nothing you can’t find out.”

“Have you taken care of it?”

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine.” Banxia didn’t want to continue this conversation.

“You should go and lie down. I’ll make the meal.”

“I’m fine…” Surely a period wouldn’t render her helpless?

“No, you shouldn’t touch cold water during this special time. I know that much. Go on, I’ll just reheat yesterday’s leftovers—I promise no culinary disasters. Don’t worry.” Without giving her a chance to protest, he ushered Banxia into the room.

Banxia now led a life where her every need was attended to. Gan Sui treated her like a seriously ill patient, confining her to bed—she was nearly driven mad.

“Honestly, I’m fine! In modern times, women still go to work on their periods. Don’t be so fussy; I just won’t touch water.”

“Isn’t it said that you shouldn’t overexert yourself, too?” Gan Sui was eager to learn.

Banxia was about to kneel in exasperation. “I’m really not overdoing it. I’m just feeding the chicks and ducklings.”

“But I’ve already fed them.”

“Then has the bamboo bed dried? I’ll go check.”

“I just checked. It’ll be ready to bring inside tonight.”

“Then we can each have our own bed.”

“No.” Gan Sui refused with full confidence.

“Why not?”

“The bamboo bed is too cold, and there aren’t enough extra quilts.”

“Oh right, I forgot to buy more quilts. Aren’t you going to settle your wages with Manager Yan today? Go buy two quilts.”

“You’re not feeling well; how could I leave? I’ll go another day. I haven’t finished copying this book yet.”

“Then I’ll go myself tomorrow.”

“No, the road’s too far. It would be too exhausting for you to walk that much.”

“What do you actually want? You’re rejecting everything I say today.”

Gan Sui said nothing, only looked at her. Banxia became self-conscious. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Women really are irritable during their periods. I won’t argue with you; it’s not good for your health. I’m going to copy my book in the main hall.” Gan Sui began to transcribe his text.

Banxia was speechless.

She lay on the bed. “Hey, listen…”

“Yes?”

“I’m bored. I want my phone. The show I’d been following must be finished by now. And I wonder if my ‘Po Po’ is together with anyone yet. Hey, hey, hey…”

Gan Sui could hardly bear it. “You really have nothing better to do, huh?”

“That’s right!” Banxia blinked innocently.

“Get up and practice your writing.”

“Sure!” Banxia was delighted just to be able to sit up. She moved over to the desk, and Gan Sui handed her a brush. “Write something for me.”

Banxia began to write. Used to hard-tipped pens, brushwork felt awkward.

“Your horizontal strokes aren’t level, your verticals aren’t straight—this is textbook chicken-scratch.”

“It’s the brush—I’m not used to it,” Banxia refused to admit her poor penmanship.

“Let me teach you.”

Gan Sui walked behind her and guided her hand. “Posture is important. Keep your head upright, back straight, arms open, feet planted. Hold the brush straight, leave a hollow in your palm as if you’re holding an egg. Thumb presses the brush, forefinger holds it, middle finger hooks around, ring and pinky support. Now, draw a horizontal stroke.”

Speaking right by her ear, Gan Sui’s breath made Banxia’s side tingle. She grew nervous and pulled the brush off course. “See, it’s even worse than when I write alone.” She shifted blame first. “I’ll practice by myself—move over.” Inwardly, she recited, “Desire is a double-edged sword. Stay calm, stay calm,” while righteously pushing Gan Sui away.

Seeing her flushed cheeks, Gan Sui, in rare mercy, let go. Indeed, a red-sleeved beauty by the lamplight had its own unique charm—this was an activity worth repeating.

Banxia practiced her calligraphy for half the morning, repeatedly assuring Gan Sui that she was fine and wouldn’t do anything strenuous, so she was finally allowed out of bed. Only when her period ended did she breathe a sigh of relief. Truly, being a woman was a daily ordeal.

They happened to catch the second market day. Banxia went to town with Gan Sui, bought two quilts, and was overjoyed to finally have her own bed.

Seeing Banxia’s happy face, Gan Sui tried to suppress his own discomfort. Well, she’s still young anyway. Watching but not touching is torture enough, especially at this age, when the body’s impulses are hard to ignore.

The first night Banxia slept in her little bamboo bed, she tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. Gan Sui was still awake too; every movement set the bamboo bed creaking and groaning.

“What are you doing?” Gan Sui couldn’t help but ask.

“I can’t sleep. Let’s chat, okay?”

“You talk, I’ll listen.”

“When we get to the city, how about I open a hotpot restaurant—a self-service one? If it goes well, we can make it a nationwide chain. We’ll have our own stores everywhere.”

“That’s a good idea, but I’ve heard that this dynasty has strict regulations on officials—government officers and their wives aren’t allowed to engage in business.”

“Oh, then let’s get divorced when the time comes. I’ll be a legendary businesswoman, and you can be a high-ranking official.”

“Dreaming before bed, are you? Divorce, really? Why don’t you just fly to the moon.”

“I’m just joking,” Banxia sensed Gan Sui’s displeasure.

“Gan Sui… look, what’s that?” Banxia suddenly said. Gan Sui thought she was teasing him and ignored her.

“Gan Sui… is that a mouse?” Her voice was edged with tears. Sensing her distress, Gan Sui followed her gaze. In the dim moonlight, a mouse was gnawing on a bone beneath the table.

Gan Sui leapt up and hurled a shoe. Startled, the mouse squeaked and darted away.

“Did you hit it?”

“No, it ran off.”

“What if it comes back in the night and climbs onto my bed? My grandma used to say if mice have nothing to eat, they’ll gnaw your toes. If it bites me—and if it has a virus—what if I become the first casualty from another world…”

“Enough with your imagination. Come, sleep on the bed. I won’t let you get bitten.”

Banxia scrambled up, climbed onto the bed, and wrapped herself tightly in the quilt. “Come on, let’s sleep.”

Back in her familiar bed, Banxia soon fell asleep.

The next morning, she immediately set Gan Sui to rummaging through chests and cabinets, moving all the large items aside.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to find that mouse and kill it,” Banxia declared, wielding a broom menacingly.

Gan Sui was dumbstruck. Banxia spent the whole morning searching every inch of the house, blocking up every tiny hole she could find—she even stuffed up openings the size of peanuts. Gan Sui could only comfort himself: well, at least the place was getting a thorough cleaning.

Not even a mouse hair was found, let alone the culprit itself. The only evidence was the gnawed bone under the table. Finally, Gan Sui relaxed. “There, you can rest easy. There’s nothing in the house.”

“I’m even more uneasy! If the mouse got out, it can get back in. What if it’s tunneled under the house…”

“Ancestor, are you sure it’s not some mouse demon?” Gan Sui rolled his eyes, an expression that didn’t match his usual demeanor.

After an entire day of fruitless searching, Banxia finally gave up, lit a small stove, and began fumigating the house with vinegar.

“What are you doing now?” Gan Sui, thoroughly exhausted by the ordeal, had lost all patience.

“Look at the floor—all those mouse tracks. There must be bacteria left behind. I’m using vinegar to disinfect the place.”

“As long as it makes you happy.” Gan Sui, after moving furniture all morning, collapsed onto the bed, resolved not to move again.

The only silver lining to the mouse incident was that Banxia no longer mentioned sleeping on the little bamboo bed. That was a blessing in disguise.

Fortunately, Banxia’s neurotic behavior only lasted two days before she returned to her usual self, and Gan Sui finally found some peace.