Chapter 1.21 Genealogical Record (Extra)

Back in the village, the ceremony had been completed. The tofu banquet hadn’t completely ended and my father and Biao Gong were still dealing with the aftermath, but this major event was finally over. There were still several tables left on one side, most of which were for the Taoist priests and the band. They sang while the others ate and now it was their turn to eat. Dad looked tired, but he was still in good spirits. He was still having dinner with several singers and didn’t have time to bother with me. When Biao Gong saw us coming back, he greeted us and asked how everything went.

Uncle Three gave a cursory account of the incident, but Biao Gong didn’t understand it very well so Uncle Two said that we needed to go to his house to look at the genealogical record. After that, he would explain it in more detail.

There were two copies of the genealogical record—one was a copy at another relative’s house while the other was the original which was hidden at Biao Gong’s house. Biao Gong excused himself from the table and told us to follow him.

The genealogical record was placed in a securely locked ebony box in his bedroom. For Biao Gong, this thing was a symbol of his status. The way the old genealogy was recorded was very special so we couldn’t just flip through it. With Biao Gong’s help, we quickly found our branch of the family.

The first coffin in the Wu family’s ancestral tomb wasn’t the eldest son in the family tree, but the other branches couldn’t be verified and this branch was so prominent. The back of the record was basically those from the old Wu family. I saw that this Wu ancestor’s name was “Zu Yi Gong”, his eldest son’s name was “Shang Cheng Gong”, and under Shang Cheng Gong’s name was some small print that read: eldest son is Wan Ji, second son is Wan Bo, and third son Wanxiang.

Xu A Qin said the eldest Wu brother was Shan Cheng Gong, whose mother was called He Shi. Shan Cheng Gong had three sons—the eldest son Wu Wan Ji, the second son Wu Wan Bo, and the third son Wu Wanxiang.

There were no women’s names in China’s genealogical records so we didn’t know who Shang Cheng Gong’s first wife was. But in the back of the record, all those who had made some achievements had a brief biography, each one about a page long with a brief introduction of that person’s achievements, as well as their marriage and whether they had children. Uncle Two looked it over and directly checked for Shan Cheng Gong. He said that Shan Cheng Gong was the second generation of our branch and must have compiled this record, so there must be a brief biography about him.

After looking through the record, we finally found it. Shan Cheng Gong—the eldest Wu brother who built this ancestral tomb—had two wives and three sons. Uncle Two carefully looked at his wife’s name and said, “Found it.”

We leaned over and asked what he found. He said, “Look, these two wives—the first one was called An Shi and the concubine was called He Shi.” Uncle Two turned to the front to look at the genealogy and pointed it out to us, “All three of Shan Cheng Gong’s sons were born to Concubine He Shi.”

“So?” I asked. “It’s quite normal that the first wife didn’t have any children and nothing happened. At that time, there was no Maria Women’s Hospital to treat infertility.”

Uncle Two asked Biao Gong to take out the paper that recorded the coffin names of the ancestral tomb and said calmly, “But you see, the person who was buried together with Shan Cheng Gong in the ancestral tomb wasn’t An Shi, but He Shi. Even if nothing happened, it was impossible to let the concubine serve as the first wife for burial. Let’s look at He Shi’s brief story in this biography. She was the fourth daughter of the He family in Zhao Shandu. There’s a little written about when she died, but the first wife’s An family has no record. In feudal society, this kind of situation was impossible. Even if the He family relied on Shan Cheng Gong to throw his weight around, the Wu family still had elders and in-laws and wouldn’t allow for an exception to be made in this respect. Unless she did something, she would have to be sunk in the river. Don’t you think this is strange? It’s almost like the first wife An Shi was an invisible person; it’s very mysterious.” Uncle Two spoke as if he were a teacher.

I didn’t have any clue about these kinds of family matters, so when I heard this, I asked him to stop, “Uncle Two, please put it simply.”

Uncle Two took a pen and wrote it on the back of the paper on which the coffin names were recorded. “I don’t know if you’ve read the book ‘San Ming Tong Hui’(1), but it contains many classical stories and describes some of the alternative meanings of words used in ancient times. Among them was the character ‘an’(2): the homonym for ‘ān’ is ‘àn’(3) and ‘àn’ is the equivalent of having no light, or not being bright. In other words, ‘àn’ is the same as ignorance. An Shi was basically anonymous. Someone also wrote a verse in a poem that said, ‘The pitiful city is full of people without a name (An Shi). A stranger has no need to harbor the East land in their heart’.”(4)

I kind of realized what Uncle Two meant, but I couldn’t believe it. Biao Gong and Uncle Three were even more confused so I said, “Uncle Two, do you mean that this first wife had no name? The extra nameless coffin was that of the first wife, An Shi?”

Uncle Two nodded, and Biao Gong said, “But the woman’s corpse in the coffin didn’t follow the burial methods used for first wives.”

“Hear me out,” Uncle Two said before once again turning to the genealogical record. “At that time, how could anyone allow a woman whose name was unknown to be the first wife? The existence of this An Shi is quite strange.”

“Don’t be so absolute. Maybe she was a special low-key first wife who happened to have the surname An and couldn’t have children,” Uncle Three said. “You’re also flying blind here, so how did you come up with this theory? When I heard that old monster speak before, I couldn’t think of anything at all.”

I was also baffled and thought to myself, Uncle Two, your thinking is so bold and imaginative.

“Of course there’s a reason,” Uncle Two said. “I noticed it at the end of his story.”

<Extra 1.20> <Table of Contents><Extra 1.22>

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TN Notes:

(1) Most authoritative work on the ‘Eight Characters, Four Pillars of Fate’ form of Chinese divination that uses astrology, but this particular book is about three pillars of fate

(2) 安= ān, can mean: content/calm/still/quiet/ safe/secure/in good health. The first wife they’re discussing has this character in her name

(3) 暗= àn, can mean: dark/gloomy/hidden/secret/muddled/ obscure

(4) Tiffany has provided a breakdown for us (thank God lol): “氏(Shi)” can mean “surname”. “安氏” means people whose surname is “安”(An). Since there were no women’s names in China’s genealogical records, they would put down women’s surname from their original family in it at most. So they assumed the first wife’s surname was “An”. But according to Uncle Two, “An Shi” didn’t necessarily mean people whose last name was “An”. It could also mean “anonymous”, people with no surname or no name at all.

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I know the whole “an” thing was confusing but I left them as ‘ān’ and ‘àn’ so you all could tell that they were pronounced differently and were 2 different Chinese characters. It honestly might make more sense for you to read the next chapter and come back to re-read this one if you’re still confused.

Updated 12/3/2021