daylily

+【默读 - 英文版】第一章：序章 | The Light in the Night

+译者前言指路【A Preface from the Translator】

+Wattpad同步更新，所有更新都会在LOFTER上同步发布完整章节

+更新极为缓慢，望各位理解

+2019.07.06 更新：更新了引用自《红与黑》英文译本里的句子（费渡听有声书那里），感谢特意帮我找到的外网朋友！用的是Burton Raffel 2006年翻译的版本。

——————

Chapter 1: Prologue

     “Truth, the bitter truth.” – The Red and the Black

     The north side of Nanping Road of the City of Yancheng’s Huashi District looked like a monster with only half a face of makeup.

     The wide and straight two-way street cut the entire Huashi District into two, the East Sector being one of the city’s most prosperous economic centres, and the West Sector the forgotten old city sector where the city’s ghettos were gathered.

     With one “prime lot” after another being bid at unimaginable prices these past few years in the East Sector, the to-be reconstructed old city sector was able to share a tiny bit of its fortune. The demolition compensations skyrocketed and scared away many development corporations, erecting a partition built of wealth between the crammed and crowded alleyways.

     Those living in these dilapidated buildings constantly daydreamed about striking it rich from the compensation of a mere few squared metres, and mentally they’ve already started enjoying the superior feeling of “the only thing standing between me and a few million bucks is demolishment”.

     Of course, these millionaires of the ghetto still had to wait in line to dump their chamber pots every morning.

     Night of the early summer was still chilly, the bit of warmth that gathered during the day was fast to dissipate. The food stands that illegally took up the streets in the West Sector closed down one by one, and the residents out enjoying the night have long headed home. Occasionally, an old street light would flash inconsistently under unsteady currents, probably due to nearby apartments stealing electricity from it.

     The night life has just begun in the prosperous sector just a street away.

     It was dusk, and in a streetside coffeeshop a barista was finally able to catch her breath after sending off a huge group of customers. She didn’t even have the chance to reposition her cheeks that were numb from smiling before the glass door chimed again.

     The barista had no choice but to put on her standard smile, “welcome.”

     “One low-caffeinated vanilla latte, please.”

     The customer was a tall, young man, with hair that almost draped down to his shoulders. He wore an ironed, serious formal suit and a pair of thin metal-rimmed glasses that seated on his tall nasal bridge. He lowered his head to reach for his wallet, the long hair strands caught on his chin covering half his face. Under the lights, it looked as if his nasal bridge and lips were glazed pale white, making him seem exceptionally ascetic and cold.

     Everyone is fond of aesthetically pleasing things, so naturally the barista stole a few extra looks of him, and tried to make small talk while guessing the customer’s preference, “would you like sugar-free vanilla syrup instead?”

     “No thanks, add some extra syrup,” the customer handed her some change, raised his head, and their eyes happened to meet.

     Likely out of politeness, the customer smiled at the barista, the eyes hidden behind lenses subtly narrowing, and the serious front he put on a moment ago was shattered by a tender and slightly flirtatious smile.

     The barista only just realized that even though the customer was good looking, he wasn’t good looking in a conventional sense, but rather, with a pair of flirtatious eyes. For some reason, her cheeks felt a bit warm, and she hurriedly reverted her gaze to place his order.

     Thank goodness that was when the restock delivery arrived; the barista was fast to busy herself with the task, loudly calling for the deliveryman to head to the back to verify the checklist.

     The deliveryman was a young male who was around his twenties and a walking embodiment of youthfulness. He followed the dying rays of sunset into the shop. He had a darkly tanned complexion and flashed rows of white teeth when he smiled. Energetically, he greeted the barista, “Hey there, beautiful, you’re looking quite lively today, business must be good?”

     The barista only had a fixed salary every month and was certainly not hoping for the business to be good. She didn't know what to make of his ass kissing, waving him off, “it’s alright, get on with your work, when you’re done I’ll pour you a glass of iced water.”

      The deliveryman beamed, answered “alright”, and raised his hand to wipe off the sheet of sweat on his forehead. In the corner of his forehead was a small, crescent moon-shaped scar, as if he was trying to imitate Justice Bao [1] but accidentally misplaced it.

[1] Justice Bao: a government official in ancient China, often depicted in fictional works as being extremely tanned with a crescent moon in the centre of his forehead.

     In the time it took for the barista to make the customer’s drink, the deliveryman had already concisely reported the checklist and handed off his work. He leaned over the counter while waiting for his iced water, casually asking, “beautiful, do you know which building ‘Cheng Guang Mansion’ is in?”

     “Cheng Guang Mansion?” the barista thought that name sounded familiar, but couldn’t recall at the moment and shook her head, “I’m not sure, why do you ask?”

     “Oh…” the young deliveryman lowered his head, scratching the back of it, “nothing, I heard the buildings in that area were hiring deliverymen.”

     The barista was a bit insensitive and failed to notice his little act of guilt. She put a lid over the paper cup while thoughtlessly saying to him, “I’ll ask around for you – your drink, sir, be careful, it’s hot.”

     Perhaps the customer who came in for coffee was too bored, he raised his eyes for a look at the young deliveryman, cutting in listlessly, “Cheng Guang Mansion is not in a business building, it’s a private club behind this area. What, are they hiring deliverymen now? Do you want me to take you on my way there?”

     The barista finally realized something was off, giving the deliveryman a suspicious look, “a private club?”

     The young deliveryman saw that his lies have been seen through, made a face at them, and ran off with his iced water and checklist.

     Behind the brightly lit central business region of the East Sector were large areas of man-made grass fields and gardens. Once you were a kilometre in, you could see the faint shadows of arrogant luxurious residences amongst the cluster of landscape – they had to build the residences here, because serenity on its own wasn’t worth anything, only the serenity amongst a crowd was.

     The landscape was surrounded by layer upon layer of places of varying elegance that reeked capitalism. With “elegance” as its axis and radiating outwards, the most expensive ones were in the centre, the cheapest ones at the edge near the streets.

     Among them, the best, most expensive, and most elegant place sat “Cheng Guang Mansion”.

     Its owner was not only wealthy, but also quite well-practiced in artistic social gatherings. The courtyard was renovated like an ancient garden, upon first look one might’ve even mistook it for a protected historical site. It had just finished construction recently, and the owner – to show off - had invited a group of likewise friends for a “housewarming” party. Some were here to make connections, some were here to negotiate contracts, some were here purely out of courtesy, and there were quite a number of people who were here for the party and planned to sneak in either with the beauty on their face or the dignity between their legs. The parking lot was packed with various models of fancy cars, the entire place was a stage that was currently acting out the play “Vanity Fair”.

     When Fei Du arrived in slow strides, he had already finished his cup of disgustingly sweet coffee. He could hear the music and conversations in the courtyard from quite a distance away. As he threw the empty paper cup into a garbage can nearby, he heard someone’s off-tune whistle from not far away, “Mr. Fei, over here!”

     Fei Du turned around to see a group of people gathered not far from him, all of them children from wealthy families and loafed around all day. The head of the group was incredibly stylish, with bits and pieces dangling all over his body; he was one of his “friends who were up to no good”, Zhang Donglai.

     Fei Du walked towards him, “Are you making fun of me?”

     “Who here would dare to make fun of you?” Zhang Donglai frivolously wrapped his arm around his shoulders, “I saw your car arrive ages ago and waited here for you forever, where’ve you been? And what’s with your getup? Did you just finish signing a commerce agreement with the American President or something?”

     Fei Du didn’t even bat an eye, “screw off.”

     Zhang Donglai was well-behaved and silent for the next full minute before reaching the limit of his patience, “that’s it, I can’t. You look so awkward like this, I feel like I brought my dad or something, how am I am supposed to pick up girls later?”

     Fei Du paused for a moment. First, he reached out a finger to remove his glasses, carelessly hooking them onto Zhang Donglai’s shirt collar; then, he peeled off his blazer, rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and started to unbutton it.

     He unbuttoned four in a row, revealing a large cluster of meaningless tattoos on his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair to mess it up, took Zhang Donglai’s hand, pulled off three rings that were even larger than thimbles, and shoved them onto his own fingers, “is that better, sonny?”

     Even for someone who thought themselves to have seen everything in the world like Zhang Donglai, he was stunned by this on-the-spot change room show.

     Fei Du was the alpha male of this group of wealthy children, since the others had their “emperors” towering over their heads and were still only “crowned princes” themselves. Prince Fei, however, had a mother that passed away very early, and a father who fell into vegetative state from a car accident just one year into his adulthood. He has “ascended his throne” ahead of schedule, and a whole level above everyone else.

     He had loads of money and no one to reprimand him, naturally becoming the one up to the most no good – although he was uninterested in acting as a genius entrepreneur and was quite mediocre when it came to the important things, steering clear of unreliable investments. He wasn’t going to go broke in a while from partying alone.

     Although, there seemed to be something wrong with him recently, he’s stopped hanging out with them for a while, almost as if he was going to return to the world of the lawful.

     Fei Du kept both his hands in his pockets and took a few steps forward, “we agreed that I’m just here out of courtesy, I’m only staying until midnight.”

     Zhang Donglai: “Don’t be such a party pooper, Master Fei.”

     A group of playboys gathered together and leaving before midnight? That’s practically the same as not having come at all.

     Fei Du ignore him.

     Zhang Donglai asked, “why?”

     “I’m currently seriously pursuing my future wife,” Fei Du said carelessly, “does it seem right to be pursuing someone while messing around at the same time? I haven’t sunken that low yet.”

     Zhang Donglai gazed at his dress shirt and long hair that became bloated in the night breeze. Other than being playful, he didn’t think he was that high to begin with, and quickly caught up to him in a few steps, “what’s wrong with you, there’s an entire forest in front of you and you’re throwing it away for a tree that’s old and poor…”

     Fei Du suddenly turned around and gave Zhang Donglai a cold look.

     There was a peculiar kind of contradicting aura about him, when he smiled, he embodied flirtation, but when his face was dead serious, he could seamlessly transition into a kind of sharp sternness, his gaze almost suffocating.

     Zhang Donglai stopped talking, unable to continue, lifted his hand and slapped himself, “excuse me, I shouldn’t’ve said that, I’ll apologize to my sister-in-law in person when I get the chance.”

     For some reason Fei Du was amused by the words “sister-in-law”, the tight corners of his mouth softened, and he waved his hand, seemingly very forgiving of what had just happened.

     Zhang Donglai rolled his eyes towards the sky, thinking that his master has been deceived by an evil witch and no longer able to make sensible decisions.

     Master Fei kept to his word; The second it turned midnight, he took his leave like Cinderella who heard the clock chime.

     He weaved through crowds of monsters and men, walked around a retard who was flattering him with a glass of champagne raised, and went into the little bushy area to look for Zhang Donglai.

     Zhang Donglai was busy exchanging views on the philosophies of life with a beauty, the two of them were going at it as if there was no one else around.

     The retard was quite drunk, “look at you, with a prosperous future ahead of you and a dead daddy, Master Fei, you’re the real winner here!”

     “My dad’s not dead yet, thank you very much,” Fei Du nodded to him politely, and stuck out his head to ask Zhang Donglai, “busy?”

     Zhang Donglai was truly shameless and careless and whistled at him, “Master Fei, care to join us?”

     “I’m good,” Fei Du didn’t cease his steps, “what if you saw how sexy I was and released too early? You don’t want that kind embarrassing gossip going around, right, beautiful? I’m off.”

     With that, he ignored the “wahhhh” sounds Zhang Donglai was making behind him, and quickly left along a stone walkway, steady and unwavering, much unlike someone who was bathed in alcohol for most of the night.

     By the time he reached the parking lot, he had already buttoned up his dress shirt, law-abidingly called for a designated driver, and was leaning against a locust tree while waiting.

     During the late spring and early summer in Yancheng, the city was always filled with the fragrance of locust flowers. Usually it dissolved into the air starting from unnoticed corners, wispy and airy, and was quickly covered over by a puff of car exhaust; but once you left it to sediment without disturbance, it would reappear on its own.

     In the distance, the music from Cheng Guang Mansion was mingled with laughter and screaming. Fei Du turned around with squinted eyes and saw that a group of girls were playing games with a few “forever eighteen” men with beer bellies and balding heads.

     At this o’clock, even the stores in the East Sector have mostly closed. The real gentlemen who were just here to make connections and hand out business cards and the ones acting like real gentlemen will have been gone before midnight, and the ones who stayed were in a silent agreement to participate in the extravagant and promiscuous programme that began next.

     Fei Du plucked a bunch of small, white flowers from the tree, blew away the dirt covering them, and put them into his mouth to slowly chew. He started going through the contacts in his phone out of pure boredom, his finger lingering for a few moments above the name “Officer Tao”, suddenly realizing that it was very late, and gave up the thought.

     He stood silently for a while, feeling bored enough to start whistling with the sweetness of locust flowers still in his mouth, gradually forming a small tune.

     Ten minutes later, the designated driver arrived, and ever so carefully, drove Prince Fei’s flamboyant, fancy coupe onto Nanping Road.

     Fei Du was resting with his eyes closed on the passenger side, the app on his phone was playing an audiobook on speaker. A clear, male voice spoke with a uniform speed, “… ‘I have secret enemies,’ Julien thought…” [2]

     The designated driver was a college student working part-time, and he was somewhat jaundiced towards the wealthy, taking Fei Du as either a good-for-nothing playboy with a rich family or an unknown film star who’s had alterations to his face. Suddenly hearing the audiobook made him glance at him with a surprised look.

     At that moment, a car came from the opposite direction with high beams on, nearly blinding the driver. He swore under his breath “what the hell” and subconsciously steered the car sideways, the car with “searchlights” on just barely passing them by like a gust of wind.

     The driver’s eyes were still a bit hazy and couldn’t make out what model the car was, feeling quite disappointed that he couldn’t pick a suitable defamation between “so what If you’re rich” and “don’t drive if you’re rude and poor as fuck”. Then, he heard a thud from beside him, turning around to look, it was his employer’s loosely held phone that dropped to the floor.

     The audiobook continued, “… ‘Is a road less lovely because there are thorns in the hedges alongside it? Travellers go their way and let the nasty thorns wither where they are.’…” [2]

[2] I apologize, but I could not, for the love of god, find exactly where in The Red and the Black these two quotes were from, which made it basically impossible to find the actual English translation of these quotes. If any of you happen to find it, please let me know and I will replace them. For now, I just translated the quote from Chinese.

Quotes have been updated as of July 6th, 2019. A huge thank you to Wattpad user @Siboney69 for finding the English translations! They are quoted from Burton Raffel’s 2006 English translation of The Red and the Black.

     Fei Du was passed out cold, seemingly having used the audiobook to put himself to sleep.

     The driver retracted his look with a poker face.

     Tsk, just as I thought, another one with only good looks and nothing to show for it.

     The young driver’s head was filled with senseless thoughts as he steadily drove along the straight Nanping Road into the late night. The car that had blinded him turned off the high beams after they had long passed each other, silently took a turn, and drove effortlessly into the quiet West Sector.

     It was almost one o’clock in the morning, and the streetlight that had been flashing for the better part of the night finally died. A stray cat patrolling its territory leapt onto the top of the wall.

     Suddenly, it meowed sharply, every strand of its hair was standing on end.

     The faint moonlight casted onto the ground, lighting up a man’s face. He lay on the ground with limbs sprawled, his face so swollen with blood that it was almost impossible to make out his actual features. The only distinguishable feature was the small scar shaped like a crescent moon in the corner of his forehead which was covered by a piece of white paper torn apart in a poor manner, like a spell that kept the corpse from rising. [3]

[3] I don’t think this really affects the comprehension, but I’ll throw in a little cultural background for fun. Taoist priests will draw spells or magic symbols on (often yellow) paper and stick them onto the forehead of corpses to prevent them from becoming zombies (if my memory serves me well enough).

     The man was long dead.

     The startled stray cat was scared out of its wits, took a misstep and fell off the short wall, tumbled on the ground, and dashed off without looking back.