As promised, I set up a in which you can write some words to the author of this story, Mo Bao Fei Bao. They will be gathered and made into a gift for her. If you are interested, click .
With this post, this novel translation has officially come to an end. Woohoo! Last post contains the epilogue and a few customary closing thoughts from me, including a few of my own personal thoughts on the story and the character of Cheng Muyun. Thanks for all those who joined in on the ride or will be joining in.
This epilogue brings in a couple of well-loved characters from one of the author’s other books (unfortunately, I have not gotten to translating that book yet). The fight against darkness is still long from ending, so there is no need to try to make everything so clear and defined. While you can, enjoy life and what you have, and be drunken until your head is graced by white.
This story was translated with the expression permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. All forms of reproduction, redistribution, or reposting are not authorized. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the copy is unauthorized and has been taken without consent of the translator.
Moscow, in a certain speakeasy bar.
Wen Han sat with her head lowered, staring at her own toes.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
Beside her was a suitcase that was neither too big, nor too small. The scuffs and scratches on its outside seemed to be reminding all the onlookers who passed by that it had been through many things.
A young Moscow man sauntered over and, without so much as a greeting or notice, took a seat. He wanted to take from Wen Han's hand the small die she was holding, but Wen Han lifted her eyelids and gave him a strange look.
"You know, there is a unique draw to you, darling." With an expression that was really inviting a beating, the man said this cheapest of cheap pick-up lines and, furthermore, thought it was very charming. "You enthrall my mind and soul."<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
Something in her mind seemed to overlap with the present.
Wen Han remembered their first meeting. She had once felt humiliated because of such words, and, as she restrained herself, fear like a spider's web had seeped out from her nerves and into the depths of her insides…
When that young Moscow man reached out his hand, about to touch her bare knee, someone grabbed his hand and held it down. It was a woman she had never seen before, a very beautiful woman, especially her lips. A smile curved her upper lip and also the corners of her lips upwards. But what came out the instant she opened her mouth was a very poorly pronounced "Bastard."
The young man was taken aback. "Enchanting miss, what was it you just said?"
"Scoundrel." Still extremely poorly pronounced.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
Every sentence that followed after was a swear or an insult.
Yet, the person uttering all these was so open and unperturbed.
"Where the heck did this rude, ill bred woman come from?"<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
The man leapt up and threw out his arm, about to shove her, but extending out her palm, the woman blocked his action and seized his hand in her grip.
A piercing wail rang out. Amid the astonished stares that turned in their direction from the several people at the adjacent table, a man garbed in a white button-up shirt and black pants stepped over, obstructing the gazes of everyone. "Bei Bei."
He gave a wave of his hand. Someone beside him dragged away that Moscow man.
Frowning, the girl looked at that man in the white shirt and black pants. "Cheng Muyang, did you teach me some weird things to say?"
Cheng Muyang snapped his fingers, calling for some alcohol. "Did I? What I taught you were all very cultured things to say."
Nan Bei still felt that something was odd. But oh well; she just let it be.
She was never going to be able to learn Russian in this lifetime anyway.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
Two minutes later, Wen Han was clear on the situation. This man was that younger cousin-brother whom Cheng Muyun had once mentioned, the one who liked to drink strong liquor.
"Hello. I am Cheng Muyang." The man pulled out a silver flask from his pocket and twisted it open. "I want to take advantage of these next ten minutes to let us get to know one another. Of course, if you want to understand my older cousin-brother's past, I am also very happy to offer my assistance. After all, I believe he will never tell it to you himself."
Ten minutes. The first half of his life.<>Please support this translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
This would certainly be a very interesting narration process.
These were Wen Han's thoughts.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
The first time they met had been at dusk on a certain day.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
A fifteen-year-old Cheng Muyun had sat at the southeast corner of Moscow's Red Square, pulling in inhale after inhale from a cigarette. An adolescent's face, a slender neck, black eyes.
There had been few passersby in this oldest city square of Moscow.
The entire time, he had been silent, until someone pushed a little boy with an extremely pale face up to him.
Shifting his gaze to the side, the adolescent stuffed the remaining half of that wet and cold cigarette between the shivering lips of that boy. "Welcome to Moscow, my dear… younger cousin-brother."
In the beginning, this was the impression Cheng Muyun had given him—one who carried a deep aura of viciousness and cruelness.
That had only been a temporary stopover for him. He remembered, in that large family, there had been a younger little girl, Cheng Jiayi, who was very cute and whose temperament was most compatible with Cheng Muyang's, but they had not had much interaction. When he left Moscow and returned to China, he still remembered that older cousin-brother of his whose entire being exuded an air of ruthlessness.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
He did not like Moscow's overly cold weather.
Nor had he ever thought about going back.<>Please support this translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
But his unexpected experience at age fourteen of being abducted caused him to change his mind. When Cheng Muyang arrived in Moscow for the second time, Cheng Muyun was already in prison serving his sentence. This had been a great surprise to him. Purportedly, that older cousin-brother of his had actually been the one to report himself and had willingly gone to prison.
As a result, their second meeting had been in the small prison visitation room.
From the wrist of that former adolescent hung a strand of phoenix eye Bodhi seed prayer beads, simple and without any extra, unnecessary items on that circle of Bodhi seeds. His head shaved, he had taken measure of Cheng Muyang with narrowed eyes. "Welcome back to Moscow."
Phoenix eye Bodhi seed mala beads (i.e. prayer beads). ()
At the time, he had merely been fifteen years old, and facing the twenty-year-old Cheng Muyun, he had still only been a half-grown child. In what could be considered a calm manner, Cheng Muyang had asked him when he planned on finishing his atonement for his crimes and leaving prison. Cheng Muyun had seemed very disinterested in this question from him. "Ten years? About that."
"Do you need me to send anything to you here?"<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
"Women?" Cheng Muyun had joked. "No. Do you have any alcohol?"
Cheng Muyang pulled out a small, rectangular flask from on himself and pushed it across the table to him. Once Cheng Muyun left this room, he would not be able to drink. Here, though, enjoy as you please.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
After only a few years, Cheng Muyun did a great deed while in prison and was released early.
At the time, he had done according to the instructions of the elders of their family, preparing a welcome celebration for Cheng Muyun, burning away all clothing and items from the past, and setting out a pan of fire in front of the door of the old family mansion for him to step over[1]. Cheng Muyun had not stepped over it, striding around it instead. No one had expected that, after being in prison for so long, in the end, Cheng Muyun still had not broken away from the trafficking business and, in fact, was even one step deeper in it, becoming engaged in marriage to one of the core persons in the largest trafficking organization that operated along the borders. That trafficking organization had no bottom limit to what it would do and would touch anything, regardless of how dirty it was. The elders of their family had been extremely displeased with this and had cut off ties with Cheng Muyun.
Approximately another two or three years later, Cheng Muyun joined forces with the brother of his fiancée and, in a single blow, had destroyed the core of that trafficking organization. The complete reversal of his role and identity had shocked everyone. Cheng Muyun, as the person that he was, always seemed to have this ability. However, after accomplishing this great meritorious deed and shedding his undercover identity, on his return journey to Moscow, he had suffered an even greater turn of events.
That night was most the unforgettable of nights to Cheng Muyang.
If he had arrived only a little later, his older cousin-brother possibly would have been dead. If he had arrived slightly earlier, he possibly would have accompanied Cheng Muyun into the netherworld together.
In short, perhaps because in the first half of his own life, he had practiced abstinence from meat[2], while Cheng Muyun, in the latter half of his life, had turned his heart to Buddhism, that night, he had been fortunate enough to pull Cheng Muyun back out from the gates of hell. A blood-covered Cheng Muyun had, in front of all those mangled corpses, bent his knees and wordlessly knelt. One by one, he had pressed his face against each of those former brothers of the underground operations team who had died in order to protect him…<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
Later—
Something stirred within Nan Bei as she listened to all of this. Softly, she commented, "This is the first time I've heard you praise a person."
"Am I praising him?" Stroking Nan Bei's petite earlobe, Cheng Muyang replied in a low voice, "I am actually denouncing him. Had he not been like one of those shopowners who throw all the work onto others to do and walked away to be a world-renunciant for ten years, I would not have ended up parting from you in Belgium and, because of all the matters I had to attend to, being unable to immediately find you."
Nan Bei gave a light laugh.<>Please support the original translation of this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
There was an envious admiration in Wen Han as she looked at Nan Bei. It was as if, from the very beginning, this woman was of the same world as them[3]. Her smile was gentle, yet also unbridled.
"Your older brother still isn't here." Nan Bei lifted her wrist to look at her watch.
When she spoke this, the person who had been the subject of their discussion had already arrived.
The man in that story followed the steps down, avoiding the various drunken men and women. As his feet stepped onto the brick floor, the attentions of the nearby people were drawn to him, and they turned to cast a couple of glances on him.
Relaxedly moving his shoulders about, Cheng Muyun strode toward that table in the corner.
Everything had come to an end.<>This UNAUTHORIZED copy was taken from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
Half an hour ago, he had watched with his own eyes as Fu Yiming closed the case files of those who had been sentenced to the death penalty.
In this round of the battle against the trafficking organization, the Moscow operations team had come out victorious, although it was only an interim victory and darkness still existed. However, this at least gave Cheng Muyun a chance to catch his breath and bring Wen Han back to see her adoptive parents. Even though, in order to ensure the safety of the two elders, they had not actually truly appeared in person to them and had only gazed upon them from a distance, this nonetheless could be considered to have fulfilled the wish that had been in Wen Han's heart these last few years.
Wen Han caught a whiff of a familiar scent—an incense. This incense was the one that she had been frequently using of late, and its scent, intermingled with the unique smell of leather, now brushed across her cheek. "My beloved girl, would you be willing to take me to a little inn tonight and cavort the night away with me?" He was flirting with her in the most seductive Russian, and the breath that came from his mouth and nose caressed her cheek.
Blushing, Wen Han threw a glimpse at Nan Bei, who did not understand Russian, as well as his younger cousin-brother, who was pretending he had not heard. In Russian, she quietly asked, "You saw them?" Those brothers and comrades of his former days.
"No." Cheng Muyun's hand slid down from her narrow shoulder, following the curve of her arm, and took her wrist. "Their world does not need me."
From his pocket, Cheng Muyun pulled out a car key, tossing it to Cheng Muyang. The key landed in the palm of Cheng Muyang, who, with a hook of his finger, spun it one full circle, then slapped it onto the glass table. Cheng Muyang watched as that man led his young wife away and left, like any other foreign traveller dragging a beat-up suitcase behind him, turning around and departing without even a backward glance.
He had not even given a farewell.<>This UNAUTHORIZED copy was taken from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
"What was your older cousin-brother saying to his wife just now?" Nan Bei asked quietly.
Cheng Muyang gave a little rub across the back of Nan Bei's hand, his smile very calm. "I will tell you when we get back."
Nan Bei was suspicious. Fixing her eyes intently on Cheng Muyang for several seconds, she suddenly pinched his chin between her fingers. "Little scoundrel."
He laughed. "Oh? You have suddenly learned Russian without anyone teaching you?"
Wrinkling the end of her nose, Nan Bei tossed him a glower.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
When Wen Han, her hand in Cheng Muyun's, walked back up from that underground bar, it was snowing outside. Along with the night wind, the icy touch of Moscow struck her nose, cheeks, and lips. Tomorrow, they would be leaving Moscow, as if they had never returned here.
This was her hometown.<>This is an UNAUTHORIZED copy, taken from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
"Wen Han," he called her.<>Please support this story’s translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
A searing hot palm covered her cheek. As a taxicab sped by, he brought his face down and placed a kiss on her upper lip. "When you were a young girl, did you ever pass by bars like this one? And when you walked past, were you scared of those drunks?'
Now that he asked, there really had been a time.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
She recalled, "There was one time, when I was in high school. A drunk came and blocked my way at the end of the road." She had struggled and then, leaving behind her most expensive down coat at the time, she had tremblingly run back home. Afraid that her adoptive parents would worry, she had not told them the truth and simply said that she had lost the coat at school…
"I am very fortunate that that didn't leave any psychological scars behind on you." There was a moist touch on her lips as Cheng Muyun blocked all the reality in front of her from her view. "I would not want to have missed the chance with you in Nepal because you were afraid."
Wen Han paused in surprise. Leaning herself against him, she asked, "You honestly don't smoke or drink?"
Beside her ear was the whistling night wind, which blew against Wen Han until her ears felt raw.
"It is the absolute truth." He was very composed.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
Recalling the scene that his younger cousin-brother had just described, a flicker of skepticism glinted in Wen Han’s eyes.
He gave a low chuckle. "It would seem you heard something that you should not have heard."
"Mm-hmm." She also laughed.<>Please support this translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
He drank and, in fact, liked drinking hard liquor.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
But it did not matter. No matter how many facades he put up, what she had was time to remove all of them.
It was like a dream. As a teenager, whenever she passed by such places and encountered any ruffians or drunks, she would be so frightened she would run away. Yet, in Nepal, she had encountered him, the ruffian that he was. If she had not taken that trip, would she now, whenever she passed by places of this type, still be afraid, still be avoiding them and detouring around them?
She was very glad that life did not have alternate possibilities.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
He had walked up from the pit of hell, crossing mountains of daggers and seas of flame before he could stand in that place—and encounter her.
How could the world's ways ever conform to being if not black, then white; and when have they complied with being if not this, then that?
Since who owes whom can never be clear, since a strong drink still lies in your embrace, you may as well hereupon, like silkworms trapped in their own cocoons, wander from place to place and be drunken until your head is graced by white.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
[1] In Chinese beliefs, stepping over a small pan of fire will purify you and get rid of bad luck.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
[2] Up until he was fourteen years old, Cheng Muyang had firmly believed in Buddhism and had adhered to it. Something drastic happened when he was age fourteen that changed the course of his life, and he left, believing in no one but the girl named Nan Bei, and eventually became the leader of the powerful, underground family of Russia that, as mentioned in Beautiful Bones, functioned outside of the law (similar to the Zhou family of Beautiful Bones). Their story is featured in 一生一世 Vows of Eternal Love, the first of the "One Life, One Incarnation” series, of which both Beautiful Bones and Black and White Film belong.
[3] Indeed, Nan Bei is from the same "world" as the Cheng brothers. The Nan family holds significant weight amongst the powerful underground families, which include the Cheng family and the Zhou (Zhousheng) family featured in Beautiful Bones.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
This story was translated with the expression permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. All forms of reproduction, redistribution, or reposting are not authorized. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the copy is unauthorized and has been taken without consent of the translator.
I have lots of thoughts on this novel. Like, lots. So the following is some of my brain dump. I’ve been holding it in until the very end of the story so that I didn’t give away any spoilers. So please forgive me if it’s a little disorganized.
<>Please come read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
When I was a kid, my brother and I shared a room. My parents gave him an old TV, you know, one of those boxy, CRT TVs that have a giant antenna on top and if the antenna isn’t adjusted just perfectly, the picture goes fuzzy. Sometimes, when my parents were asleep, we would secretly turn it on. To be honest, the programs late at night were not much to sing praises about, but it was the novelty of watching without Mom and Dad knowing. Muahahaha. Often, we would end up watching old, black and white films, which would every so often go fuzzy and we would have to run over and adjust the antenna again.
A question always bothered me: why did they call those films “black and white”? If you really look at them, they aren’t really black and white at all but actually gray, all different shades of gray, some darker, some lighter.
Black and White Film is a very interesting novel to me. Many of you may know that my favourite novels are ones that get me thinking, and I pondered about this one for weeks after I finished reading it. Yes, the novel is completely fictional and not at all “slice of life,” but yet I find the characters so realistically complex. I posed these rhetorical questions about the characters before: Who is good? Who is evil? Can we really say? When I first read this, I was thinking the mole would be someone “evil,” someone who was greedy and wanted to steal the Buddhist relic because it was a priceless treasure, someone who possibly was power hungry and would betray his brothers in order to gain something for himself—you know, the stereotypical villain. But Chen Yuan and Cheng Jiayi, yes, they did wrong and they are selfish, perhaps, but evil?
I love the title of this story—Life: A Black and White Film. It fits so well with the theme of the story. We love to label people or, in stories, label characters with back and white titles of “good” and “bad.” In reality, though, just like when you watch a black and white movie and realize that it’s actually all shades of gray, people also cannot be so definitively labelled. “How could the world's ways ever conform to being if not black, then white; and when have they complied with being if not this, then that?”
Even Cheng Muyun, the “hero” of our story, is not actually completely a hero. Yes, his ultimate purpose for what he does is for a greater good, but he is merciless, holds no forgiveness, and will resort to ruthless methods to achieve that greater good. In that aspect, he is “gray.” However, where he draws his lines is black and white. “There was no mercy or leniency in his world. To those who betrayed him, he would return the act tenfold. To those who were wicked, he would use a hundredfold factor to tell the other party just what was meant by ‘evil shall reap evil.'” But the flip side of that is, though he will use all ruthless ways to bring retribution on evil, he will not hurt an innocent.
I translated based on the published, hard copy version of the novel. The ending is slightly different from the version online that was released initially. In that online version, when Wen Han abandoned her identity at the end and went to China, where she found Cheng Muyun, she found he had actually turned away from the secular world and become a monk again. (Of course, everything else happened as you read. He gave up monkhood and left the temple to be with Wen Han, saying to her “I love you.”) You will notice in the published version, which is what you read, this did not happen. He merely withdrew from the world and went to the temple to live the rest of his life; he did not become a monk again. This change is subtle, but very remarkable. I personally believe it is very fitting for the character of Cheng Muyun.
Cheng Muyun himself “knew that worldly things and thoughts plagued him and he would not be able to enter into monkhood again.” Indeed, the ways of the world do not conform to being if not black, then white. But sometimes, people seek out black and white, right and wrong. When Cheng Muyun dealt punishment on Cheng Jiayi and Chen Yuan, he only allowed himself to think about right and wrong and chose not to ask about the reason behind their betrayals. He chose “no mercy, no leniency.” This reminded me discussions I have read or participated in regarding the difference between “judgment” and “grace.” Are Cheng Jiayi and Chen Yuan evil? Who can truly draw that line and make that judgment? This is how the world is not merely black and white. But yet, they needed to bear the responsibility and all the consequences of their choices and actions. In terms of those, right is right and wrong is wrong. Even Wen Han thought, “Doing evil with a good reason is still doing evil.” This is judgment. Grace is being able to see past those actions to the reasons behind them that perhaps are deserving of pity, being able to empathize and able to pity. Even if the action can be identified as “wrong” and consequences/punishments need to be given, you can still forgive.
“Perhaps Buddha can bestow his merciful forgiveness on you. But I cannot.” These were Cheng Muyun’s thoughts. Buddha's warrior attendant's eyes are filled with terrible rage to vanquish the Four Maras; Bodhisattva lowers her eyes to shower compassion on the Six Realms. Cheng Muyun is able to be the warrior attendant of Buddha whose eyes are filled with terrible rage at evil, but he is not able to be the Boddhisattva who lowers his eyes to shower compassion. That is because he has chosen to turn away from mercy.
And therefore, Cheng Muyun is not suitable for entering into monkhood.
<>Please come read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
I think I’ll stop talking now. I have plenty more thoughts on Cheng Muyun and could probably write essays on Cheng Jiayi, Chen Yuan, Fu Yiming, etc., but I’ll leave it at that. Thank you to those who have been following along. It certainly is a different novel than all the other ones I’ve translated, and I’m guessing that, though I tried my best to warn you from the start, it still might have caught some of you off guard. LOL. Hopefully this expanded your views of Mo Bao Fei Bao’s writing and who she is as an author.
In regards to my next project, yes, I have one already. Permissions have been received, and I’ve been doing the prep work for it already to pull myself out of the Black and White Film mood and into the mind space of this next one. I suspect you will see me doing an announcement and kickoff for it within the next several weeks. Meanwhile, I will also officially be taking Don’t Be So Proud under my wing and hopefully bringing its translation to conclusion. I haven’t decided on the translation schedule for that one yet and how it and my next primary project will share time. However, you guys probably have noticed I’m a little OCD, so whatever the schedule will be, I will make sure its set and then let you know.
I thought I would sign off this project with a cute little comic I found that is very appropriate for the theme of Black and White Film. It always manages to pull a guffaw out from me.
Once again, thank you to all my readers. I very much appreciate all of you.
—H
Comic strip was found on Weibo. Fanatical takes no credit for it, except for the translation into English.
Completed: 1 of 1 Prologue 50 of 50 Chapter segments 1 of 1 Epilogue
As promised, I set up a in which you can write some words to the author of this story, Mo Bao Fei Bao. They will be gathered and made into a gift for her. If you are interested, click .
With this post, this novel translation has officially come to an end. Woohoo! Last post contains the epilogue and a few customary closing thoughts from me, including a few of my own personal thoughts on the story and the character of Cheng Muyun. Thanks for all those who joined in on the ride or will be joining in.
This epilogue brings in a couple of well-loved characters from one of the author’s other books (unfortunately, I have not gotten to translating that book yet). The fight against darkness is still long from ending, so there is no need to try to make everything so clear and defined. While you can, enjoy life and what you have, and be drunken until your head is graced by white.
This story was translated with the expression permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. All forms of reproduction, redistribution, or reposting are not authorized. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the copy is unauthorized and has been taken without consent of the translator.
Moscow, in a certain speakeasy bar.
Wen Han sat with her head lowered, staring at her own toes.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
Beside her was a suitcase that was neither too big, nor too small. The scuffs and scratches on its outside seemed to be reminding all the onlookers who passed by that it had been through many things.
A young Moscow man sauntered over and, without so much as a greeting or notice, took a seat. He wanted to take from Wen Han's hand the small die she was holding, but Wen Han lifted her eyelids and gave him a strange look.
"You know, there is a unique draw to you, darling." With an expression that was really inviting a beating, the man said this cheapest of cheap pick-up lines and, furthermore, thought it was very charming. "You enthrall my mind and soul."<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
Something in her mind seemed to overlap with the present.
Wen Han remembered their first meeting. She had once felt humiliated because of such words, and, as she restrained herself, fear like a spider's web had seeped out from her nerves and into the depths of her insides…
When that young Moscow man reached out his hand, about to touch her bare knee, someone grabbed his hand and held it down. It was a woman she had never seen before, a very beautiful woman, especially her lips. A smile curved her upper lip and also the corners of her lips upwards. But what came out the instant she opened her mouth was a very poorly pronounced "Bastard."
The young man was taken aback. "Enchanting miss, what was it you just said?"
"Scoundrel." Still extremely poorly pronounced.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
Every sentence that followed after was a swear or an insult.
Yet, the person uttering all these was so open and unperturbed.
"Where the heck did this rude, ill bred woman come from?"<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
The man leapt up and threw out his arm, about to shove her, but extending out her palm, the woman blocked his action and seized his hand in her grip.
A piercing wail rang out. Amid the astonished stares that turned in their direction from the several people at the adjacent table, a man garbed in a white button-up shirt and black pants stepped over, obstructing the gazes of everyone. "Bei Bei."
He gave a wave of his hand. Someone beside him dragged away that Moscow man.
Frowning, the girl looked at that man in the white shirt and black pants. "Cheng Muyang, did you teach me some weird things to say?"
Cheng Muyang snapped his fingers, calling for some alcohol. "Did I? What I taught you were all very cultured things to say."
Nan Bei still felt that something was odd. But oh well; she just let it be.
She was never going to be able to learn Russian in this lifetime anyway.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
Two minutes later, Wen Han was clear on the situation. This man was that younger cousin-brother whom Cheng Muyun had once mentioned, the one who liked to drink strong liquor.
"Hello. I am Cheng Muyang." The man pulled out a silver flask from his pocket and twisted it open. "I want to take advantage of these next ten minutes to let us get to know one another. Of course, if you want to understand my older cousin-brother's past, I am also very happy to offer my assistance. After all, I believe he will never tell it to you himself."
Ten minutes. The first half of his life.<>Please support this translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
This would certainly be a very interesting narration process.
These were Wen Han's thoughts.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
The first time they met had been at dusk on a certain day.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
A fifteen-year-old Cheng Muyun had sat at the southeast corner of Moscow's Red Square, pulling in inhale after inhale from a cigarette. An adolescent's face, a slender neck, black eyes.
There had been few passersby in this oldest city square of Moscow.
The entire time, he had been silent, until someone pushed a little boy with an extremely pale face up to him.
Shifting his gaze to the side, the adolescent stuffed the remaining half of that wet and cold cigarette between the shivering lips of that boy. "Welcome to Moscow, my dear… younger cousin-brother."
In the beginning, this was the impression Cheng Muyun had given him—one who carried a deep aura of viciousness and cruelness.
That had only been a temporary stopover for him. He remembered, in that large family, there had been a younger little girl, Cheng Jiayi, who was very cute and whose temperament was most compatible with Cheng Muyang's, but they had not had much interaction. When he left Moscow and returned to China, he still remembered that older cousin-brother of his whose entire being exuded an air of ruthlessness.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
He did not like Moscow's overly cold weather.
Nor had he ever thought about going back.<>Please support this translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
But his unexpected experience at age fourteen of being abducted caused him to change his mind. When Cheng Muyang arrived in Moscow for the second time, Cheng Muyun was already in prison serving his sentence. This had been a great surprise to him. Purportedly, that older cousin-brother of his had actually been the one to report himself and had willingly gone to prison.
As a result, their second meeting had been in the small prison visitation room.
From the wrist of that former adolescent hung a strand of phoenix eye Bodhi seed prayer beads, simple and without any extra, unnecessary items on that circle of Bodhi seeds. His head shaved, he had taken measure of Cheng Muyang with narrowed eyes. "Welcome back to Moscow."
Phoenix eye Bodhi seed mala beads (i.e. prayer beads). ()
At the time, he had merely been fifteen years old, and facing the twenty-year-old Cheng Muyun, he had still only been a half-grown child. In what could be considered a calm manner, Cheng Muyang had asked him when he planned on finishing his atonement for his crimes and leaving prison. Cheng Muyun had seemed very disinterested in this question from him. "Ten years? About that."
"Do you need me to send anything to you here?"<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
"Women?" Cheng Muyun had joked. "No. Do you have any alcohol?"
Cheng Muyang pulled out a small, rectangular flask from on himself and pushed it across the table to him. Once Cheng Muyun left this room, he would not be able to drink. Here, though, enjoy as you please.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
After only a few years, Cheng Muyun did a great deed while in prison and was released early.
At the time, he had done according to the instructions of the elders of their family, preparing a welcome celebration for Cheng Muyun, burning away all clothing and items from the past, and setting out a pan of fire in front of the door of the old family mansion for him to step over[1]. Cheng Muyun had not stepped over it, striding around it instead. No one had expected that, after being in prison for so long, in the end, Cheng Muyun still had not broken away from the trafficking business and, in fact, was even one step deeper in it, becoming engaged in marriage to one of the core persons in the largest trafficking organization that operated along the borders. That trafficking organization had no bottom limit to what it would do and would touch anything, regardless of how dirty it was. The elders of their family had been extremely displeased with this and had cut off ties with Cheng Muyun.
Approximately another two or three years later, Cheng Muyun joined forces with the brother of his fiancée and, in a single blow, had destroyed the core of that trafficking organization. The complete reversal of his role and identity had shocked everyone. Cheng Muyun, as the person that he was, always seemed to have this ability. However, after accomplishing this great meritorious deed and shedding his undercover identity, on his return journey to Moscow, he had suffered an even greater turn of events.
That night was most the unforgettable of nights to Cheng Muyang.
If he had arrived only a little later, his older cousin-brother possibly would have been dead. If he had arrived slightly earlier, he possibly would have accompanied Cheng Muyun into the netherworld together.
In short, perhaps because in the first half of his own life, he had practiced abstinence from meat[2], while Cheng Muyun, in the latter half of his life, had turned his heart to Buddhism, that night, he had been fortunate enough to pull Cheng Muyun back out from the gates of hell. A blood-covered Cheng Muyun had, in front of all those mangled corpses, bent his knees and wordlessly knelt. One by one, he had pressed his face against each of those former brothers of the underground operations team who had died in order to protect him…<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
Later—
Something stirred within Nan Bei as she listened to all of this. Softly, she commented, "This is the first time I've heard you praise a person."
"Am I praising him?" Stroking Nan Bei's petite earlobe, Cheng Muyang replied in a low voice, "I am actually denouncing him. Had he not been like one of those shopowners who throw all the work onto others to do and walked away to be a world-renunciant for ten years, I would not have ended up parting from you in Belgium and, because of all the matters I had to attend to, being unable to immediately find you."
Nan Bei gave a light laugh.<>Please support the original translation of this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
There was an envious admiration in Wen Han as she looked at Nan Bei. It was as if, from the very beginning, this woman was of the same world as them[3]. Her smile was gentle, yet also unbridled.
"Your older brother still isn't here." Nan Bei lifted her wrist to look at her watch.
When she spoke this, the person who had been the subject of their discussion had already arrived.
The man in that story followed the steps down, avoiding the various drunken men and women. As his feet stepped onto the brick floor, the attentions of the nearby people were drawn to him, and they turned to cast a couple of glances on him.
Relaxedly moving his shoulders about, Cheng Muyun strode toward that table in the corner.
Everything had come to an end.<>This UNAUTHORIZED copy was taken from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
Half an hour ago, he had watched with his own eyes as Fu Yiming closed the case files of those who had been sentenced to the death penalty.
In this round of the battle against the trafficking organization, the Moscow operations team had come out victorious, although it was only an interim victory and darkness still existed. However, this at least gave Cheng Muyun a chance to catch his breath and bring Wen Han back to see her adoptive parents. Even though, in order to ensure the safety of the two elders, they had not actually truly appeared in person to them and had only gazed upon them from a distance, this nonetheless could be considered to have fulfilled the wish that had been in Wen Han's heart these last few years.
Wen Han caught a whiff of a familiar scent—an incense. This incense was the one that she had been frequently using of late, and its scent, intermingled with the unique smell of leather, now brushed across her cheek. "My beloved girl, would you be willing to take me to a little inn tonight and cavort the night away with me?" He was flirting with her in the most seductive Russian, and the breath that came from his mouth and nose caressed her cheek.
Blushing, Wen Han threw a glimpse at Nan Bei, who did not understand Russian, as well as his younger cousin-brother, who was pretending he had not heard. In Russian, she quietly asked, "You saw them?" Those brothers and comrades of his former days.
"No." Cheng Muyun's hand slid down from her narrow shoulder, following the curve of her arm, and took her wrist. "Their world does not need me."
From his pocket, Cheng Muyun pulled out a car key, tossing it to Cheng Muyang. The key landed in the palm of Cheng Muyang, who, with a hook of his finger, spun it one full circle, then slapped it onto the glass table. Cheng Muyang watched as that man led his young wife away and left, like any other foreign traveller dragging a beat-up suitcase behind him, turning around and departing without even a backward glance.
He had not even given a farewell.<>This UNAUTHORIZED copy was taken from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
"What was your older cousin-brother saying to his wife just now?" Nan Bei asked quietly.
Cheng Muyang gave a little rub across the back of Nan Bei's hand, his smile very calm. "I will tell you when we get back."
Nan Bei was suspicious. Fixing her eyes intently on Cheng Muyang for several seconds, she suddenly pinched his chin between her fingers. "Little scoundrel."
He laughed. "Oh? You have suddenly learned Russian without anyone teaching you?"
Wrinkling the end of her nose, Nan Bei tossed him a glower.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
When Wen Han, her hand in Cheng Muyun's, walked back up from that underground bar, it was snowing outside. Along with the night wind, the icy touch of Moscow struck her nose, cheeks, and lips. Tomorrow, they would be leaving Moscow, as if they had never returned here.
This was her hometown.<>This is an UNAUTHORIZED copy, taken from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
"Wen Han," he called her.<>Please support this story’s translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
A searing hot palm covered her cheek. As a taxicab sped by, he brought his face down and placed a kiss on her upper lip. "When you were a young girl, did you ever pass by bars like this one? And when you walked past, were you scared of those drunks?'
Now that he asked, there really had been a time.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
She recalled, "There was one time, when I was in high school. A drunk came and blocked my way at the end of the road." She had struggled and then, leaving behind her most expensive down coat at the time, she had tremblingly run back home. Afraid that her adoptive parents would worry, she had not told them the truth and simply said that she had lost the coat at school…
"I am very fortunate that that didn't leave any psychological scars behind on you." There was a moist touch on her lips as Cheng Muyun blocked all the reality in front of her from her view. "I would not want to have missed the chance with you in Nepal because you were afraid."
Wen Han paused in surprise. Leaning herself against him, she asked, "You honestly don't smoke or drink?"
Beside her ear was the whistling night wind, which blew against Wen Han until her ears felt raw.
"It is the absolute truth." He was very composed.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
Recalling the scene that his younger cousin-brother had just described, a flicker of skepticism glinted in Wen Han’s eyes.
He gave a low chuckle. "It would seem you heard something that you should not have heard."
"Mm-hmm." She also laughed.<>Please support this translation at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com instead
He drank and, in fact, liked drinking hard liquor.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
But it did not matter. No matter how many facades he put up, what she had was time to remove all of them.
It was like a dream. As a teenager, whenever she passed by such places and encountered any ruffians or drunks, she would be so frightened she would run away. Yet, in Nepal, she had encountered him, the ruffian that he was. If she had not taken that trip, would she now, whenever she passed by places of this type, still be afraid, still be avoiding them and detouring around them?
She was very glad that life did not have alternate possibilities.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
He had walked up from the pit of hell, crossing mountains of daggers and seas of flame before he could stand in that place—and encounter her.
How could the world's ways ever conform to being if not black, then white; and when have they complied with being if not this, then that?
Since who owes whom can never be clear, since a strong drink still lies in your embrace, you may as well hereupon, like silkworms trapped in their own cocoons, wander from place to place and be drunken until your head is graced by white.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
[1] In Chinese beliefs, stepping over a small pan of fire will purify you and get rid of bad luck.<>Please read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
[2] Up until he was fourteen years old, Cheng Muyang had firmly believed in Buddhism and had adhered to it. Something drastic happened when he was age fourteen that changed the course of his life, and he left, believing in no one but the girl named Nan Bei, and eventually became the leader of the powerful, underground family of Russia that, as mentioned in Beautiful Bones, functioned outside of the law (similar to the Zhou family of Beautiful Bones). Their story is featured in 一生一世 Vows of Eternal Love, the first of the "One Life, One Incarnation” series, of which both Beautiful Bones and Black and White Film belong.
[3] Indeed, Nan Bei is from the same "world" as the Cheng brothers. The Nan family holds significant weight amongst the powerful underground families, which include the Cheng family and the Zhou (Zhousheng) family featured in Beautiful Bones.<>Copyright of Fanatical, hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. Translated with the express permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the translation has been taken without consent of the translator.
This story was translated with the expression permission of the author for hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com. All forms of reproduction, redistribution, or reposting are not authorized. If you are not reading this from hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com, the copy is unauthorized and has been taken without consent of the translator.
I have lots of thoughts on this novel. Like, lots. So the following is some of my brain dump. I’ve been holding it in until the very end of the story so that I didn’t give away any spoilers. So please forgive me if it’s a little disorganized.
<>Please come read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
When I was a kid, my brother and I shared a room. My parents gave him an old TV, you know, one of those boxy, CRT TVs that have a giant antenna on top and if the antenna isn’t adjusted just perfectly, the picture goes fuzzy. Sometimes, when my parents were asleep, we would secretly turn it on. To be honest, the programs late at night were not much to sing praises about, but it was the novelty of watching without Mom and Dad knowing. Muahahaha. Often, we would end up watching old, black and white films, which would every so often go fuzzy and we would have to run over and adjust the antenna again.
A question always bothered me: why did they call those films “black and white”? If you really look at them, they aren’t really black and white at all but actually gray, all different shades of gray, some darker, some lighter.
Black and White Film is a very interesting novel to me. Many of you may know that my favourite novels are ones that get me thinking, and I pondered about this one for weeks after I finished reading it. Yes, the novel is completely fictional and not at all “slice of life,” but yet I find the characters so realistically complex. I posed these rhetorical questions about the characters before: Who is good? Who is evil? Can we really say? When I first read this, I was thinking the mole would be someone “evil,” someone who was greedy and wanted to steal the Buddhist relic because it was a priceless treasure, someone who possibly was power hungry and would betray his brothers in order to gain something for himself—you know, the stereotypical villain. But Chen Yuan and Cheng Jiayi, yes, they did wrong and they are selfish, perhaps, but evil?
I love the title of this story—Life: A Black and White Film. It fits so well with the theme of the story. We love to label people or, in stories, label characters with back and white titles of “good” and “bad.” In reality, though, just like when you watch a black and white movie and realize that it’s actually all shades of gray, people also cannot be so definitively labelled. “How could the world's ways ever conform to being if not black, then white; and when have they complied with being if not this, then that?”
Even Cheng Muyun, the “hero” of our story, is not actually completely a hero. Yes, his ultimate purpose for what he does is for a greater good, but he is merciless, holds no forgiveness, and will resort to ruthless methods to achieve that greater good. In that aspect, he is “gray.” However, where he draws his lines is black and white. “There was no mercy or leniency in his world. To those who betrayed him, he would return the act tenfold. To those who were wicked, he would use a hundredfold factor to tell the other party just what was meant by ‘evil shall reap evil.'” But the flip side of that is, though he will use all ruthless ways to bring retribution on evil, he will not hurt an innocent.
I translated based on the published, hard copy version of the novel. The ending is slightly different from the version online that was released initially. In that online version, when Wen Han abandoned her identity at the end and went to China, where she found Cheng Muyun, she found he had actually turned away from the secular world and become a monk again. (Of course, everything else happened as you read. He gave up monkhood and left the temple to be with Wen Han, saying to her “I love you.”) You will notice in the published version, which is what you read, this did not happen. He merely withdrew from the world and went to the temple to live the rest of his life; he did not become a monk again. This change is subtle, but very remarkable. I personally believe it is very fitting for the character of Cheng Muyun.
Cheng Muyun himself “knew that worldly things and thoughts plagued him and he would not be able to enter into monkhood again.” Indeed, the ways of the world do not conform to being if not black, then white. But sometimes, people seek out black and white, right and wrong. When Cheng Muyun dealt punishment on Cheng Jiayi and Chen Yuan, he only allowed himself to think about right and wrong and chose not to ask about the reason behind their betrayals. He chose “no mercy, no leniency.” This reminded me discussions I have read or participated in regarding the difference between “judgment” and “grace.” Are Cheng Jiayi and Chen Yuan evil? Who can truly draw that line and make that judgment? This is how the world is not merely black and white. But yet, they needed to bear the responsibility and all the consequences of their choices and actions. In terms of those, right is right and wrong is wrong. Even Wen Han thought, “Doing evil with a good reason is still doing evil.” This is judgment. Grace is being able to see past those actions to the reasons behind them that perhaps are deserving of pity, being able to empathize and able to pity. Even if the action can be identified as “wrong” and consequences/punishments need to be given, you can still forgive.
“Perhaps Buddha can bestow his merciful forgiveness on you. But I cannot.” These were Cheng Muyun’s thoughts. Buddha's warrior attendant's eyes are filled with terrible rage to vanquish the Four Maras; Bodhisattva lowers her eyes to shower compassion on the Six Realms. Cheng Muyun is able to be the warrior attendant of Buddha whose eyes are filled with terrible rage at evil, but he is not able to be the Boddhisattva who lowers his eyes to shower compassion. That is because he has chosen to turn away from mercy.
And therefore, Cheng Muyun is not suitable for entering into monkhood.
<>Please come read this at hui3r[dot]wordpress[dot]com
I think I’ll stop talking now. I have plenty more thoughts on Cheng Muyun and could probably write essays on Cheng Jiayi, Chen Yuan, Fu Yiming, etc., but I’ll leave it at that. Thank you to those who have been following along. It certainly is a different novel than all the other ones I’ve translated, and I’m guessing that, though I tried my best to warn you from the start, it still might have caught some of you off guard. LOL. Hopefully this expanded your views of Mo Bao Fei Bao’s writing and who she is as an author.
In regards to my next project, yes, I have one already. Permissions have been received, and I’ve been doing the prep work for it already to pull myself out of the Black and White Film mood and into the mind space of this next one. I suspect you will see me doing an announcement and kickoff for it within the next several weeks. Meanwhile, I will also officially be taking Don’t Be So Proud under my wing and hopefully bringing its translation to conclusion. I haven’t decided on the translation schedule for that one yet and how it and my next primary project will share time. However, you guys probably have noticed I’m a little OCD, so whatever the schedule will be, I will make sure its set and then let you know.
I thought I would sign off this project with a cute little comic I found that is very appropriate for the theme of Black and White Film. It always manages to pull a guffaw out from me.
Once again, thank you to all my readers. I very much appreciate all of you.
—H
Comic strip was found on Weibo. Fanatical takes no credit for it, except for the translation into English.
Completed: 1 of 1 Prologue 50 of 50 Chapter segments 1 of 1 Epilogue
