Sui Sui was busy again. Like the legendary Shennong, who tasted herbs, she tried every fruit but still found pear wine and grape wine the best—especially grapes from Ili and red pears from Zhangye. So she bought two hundred catties of each, stored them in the cellar, and hired two young Hu girls from the neighborhood to help. Every day, they washed, dried, steamed, and mashed fruit, bustling in and out for two or three months.
Dunhuang was open-minded; women walked the streets without veils or hats. It was liberating, but not without drawbacks—her wine was not yet brewed, yet the nickname “Wine Beauty” had already spread.
A woman with fine wine was always a man’s favorite, especially idle rogues.
One evening, after sending the two Hu girls home, she turned back toward her courtyard. Across the street, a tall, broad-shouldered man staggered toward her, reeking of wine.
Alarmed, Sui Sui yanked the two girls back inside and slammed the gate shut. The man quickened his pace, stumbling closer, pounding on the door. In the silent night, the thuds echoed like thunder.
“Miss Zhou—Miss Zhou!”
Here, neighbors called her Miss Zhou. Zhou was her real surname; she had no given name. “Sui Sui” was her stage name in the troupe. She had been a little actress, then a prince’s concubine, and now, after all her turns of fate, she was once again Miss Zhou.
But hearing him call her that brought no joy.
She recognized the man—he lived nearby. Ever since seeing her ten days ago, he had loitered around day and night. Tonight, he had come straight to her door.
Sui Sui raised her voice: “What do you want!”
“I came to buy wine. Open the door, sell me a jug.”
“There’s no wine. Go elsewhere.”
“Miss Zhou, open the door, open the door.”
“If you keep this up, I’ll report you to the magistrate!”
“Report me? I fear no officials!” He laughed loudly, still pounding, shaking the gate so hard the latch rattled. Sui Sui pressed against it with her hands, trembling with each blow.
In a fit of anger, Sui Sui told the two Hu girls to hold the latch, then grabbed two bricks, climbed onto the wine jar by the wall, and hurled them down at the man.
With two heavy thuds, silence fell—then the man cried out in pain. He shouted and cursed furiously: “You little whore! How dare you—how dare you! You think you can get away with this? Tomorrow you’ll rot in jail! I’ll beat you until you’re yellow, and then you’ll carry my name!”
Sui Sui retorted stubbornly: “I’ll find out who you are—I’ll find out!”
Then she whispered to the Hu girls: “Who is he?”
The two girls trembled, stammering in broken Chinese: “He… he is the county magistrate’s nephew.”
Sui Sui, used to swaggering under Li Chongjun’s protection, had never considered her opponent’s identity before striking. Hearing this, she nearly burst into tears. “Why didn’t you say so earlier!”
The girls shivered, and Sui Sui wilted, no longer daring to talk back.
The man left, cursing, hurrying to bandage himself. Before going, he swore she would “pay for this.”
Once he was gone, Sui Sui quickly sent the Hu girls away. She was terrified, too afraid to tell Cui Qiao. She pretended nothing had happened, gave Cui Qiao her medicine, but herself lay awake all night, trembling.
Thinking it over, she decided it was better to face trouble head-on—go to the magistrate and confess. Whatever punishment came, let it fall on her. Otherwise, Cui Qiao and the Hu girls would be dragged down too. But before dawn, as she stepped out, a street vendor selling late-night snacks stopped her.
“Miss Zhou! Miss Zhou!” He was a boy of fifteen or sixteen. Sui Sui often gave him samples of her strange wines. He winked, bursting with news: “I heard it all last night! I was just walking down the street when that man—” he gestured, “was shouting. But guess what? When he got home, someone ambushed him at his door, beat him so badly they broke three or four ribs, even his leg. They had to call a doctor in the middle of the night—he still hasn’t come out.”
“What!” Sui Sui was startled. “Who did it?”
The vendor shook his head: “Don’t know. That man’s been bullying men and women for years, relying on the county magistrate having no son—he’s done every kind of evil. Must’ve finally kicked an iron plate, got his retribution. Ah, miss, don’t worry about it—someone’s already taken revenge for you!”
Sui Sui hadn’t expected fortune to fall from the sky, landing right in her lap. She hesitated to accept it, still uneasy, afraid they might suspect her and come after her. But after some days, not only did the man never return, but even the county magistrate showed no sign of avenging his nephew.
Sui Sui couldn’t guess which hero had done good for the people, but seeing peace restored, she gradually relaxed.
Only after the matter had passed did she dare tell Cui Qiao, emphasizing the “evil meets evil’s end” part of the story.
But Cui Qiao grew sad again, weeping: “Two women living alone—how hard it is. Trouble finds you even when you don’t seek it. If not for me dragging you down, little sister, you could have married a good man long ago, far better than now—”
“Oh, sister, not again!” Sui Sui frowned, teasing with a smile. “Why marry a man? We’ve got some money now. If I took a husband, I’d feel he was taking advantage of me. Just the two of us—isn’t that peaceful?”
“But…”
Sui Sui quickly covered her mouth, smiling mysteriously: “Besides… I’ve already been married. Didn’t Confucius say—a woman does not marry two husbands?”
“Prince Wei isn’t already—”
At the words “Prince Wei,” Li Chongjun’s image flashed before Sui Sui’s eyes, but she quickly banished it. Resting her chin in her hand, she scoffed: “Not him. We never bowed to heaven and earth—how could that count as marriage?”
Cui Qiao stared at her in astonishment. Sui Sui found her disbelief amusing, so she played along: “That man—you’ve seen him too. Just think back five years.”
Cui Qiao clutched her chest, blinking: “Could it be—”
“Yes.” Sui Sui grinned. “It was him.”
“Where is he now?”
Sui Sui sighed deeply. Still smiling, she shook her head, lowered her eyes: “Most likely… he’s gone.”