Fiction: Group 3
The Case of The Spotty Faced Husband
Hong Kong International School, Chan, Melanie - 12, Fiction: Group 3
sat nibbling my pork chop rice as Ma cleared the table in our compact flat in Hong Kong, one of the
densest cities in the Pearl River Delta.
As I sneakily wrapped some of my food with my napkin, Popo’s
eyes followed every single movement I made.
Popo is my maternal grandmother who is visiting for a
fortnight over the Chinese New Year holiday.
She is very observant of her grandchildren's behavior, but
she seldom criticizes us.
“Mei!
Are you wasting food again?” Ma questioned.
“You know we shouldn’t waste any food.”
I sighed.
Eating seems like such a painless task, but in truth it is like going on a mission to consume the
moon.
“I know, Ma.
I’m genuinely filled to the brim.”
“Ha!
Full as a whale inflated with air.
Hurry up and finish it or no screen-time.”
“Has she finished yet?” My younger sister asked.
“Brother and I gulped our share down.”
“Do not tease your older sister, Yin.
Go play with your brother, Yu,” Ma ordered. “Mei, you will end up
marrying a man with a face as spotty as your bowl.
Look at the rice that is dotted all over your bowl!”
I groaned.
Ma always says that to me when I don’t polish all the food off my bowl.
I think I’ve heard that
saying a trillion times by now!
“You always say that!
You know that won’t really happen because I would choose a handsome guy to
marry,” I argued.
Popo laughed. “Your Ma hasn’t told you about the curse?”
“What curse?
There can’t really be a story about that!”
“Why, ‘The Curse of the Spotty Faced Husband’ of course!” exclaimed Popo.
The room fell silent as we tried to register what Popo had just said.
Finally Popo explained.
“The story originated in Auhu, a small village in the Pearl River Delta where I grew up.
This tale was told
to me by my mother, and it was told to her by her mother.”
Curse Of The Spotty Faced Husband
“Long ago, in the small village of Auhu, lived a young lady named Ying Hua.
She was as beautiful
as the Cherry Blossom, but also spoiled because she was the village chief’s only child.
She was wasteful,
didn’t care about others, and was unappreciative of the luxuries that her parents gave her.
She took
everything for granted.
On top of that, she had a bad habit of wasting food by leaving bits of rice at the
bottom of her bowl.
One day an old beggar came to her house to beg for food but Ying Hua turned him
away, claiming that they didn’t have any food to spare.
However, he saw that there were lots of half-eaten
food remaining on the dining table.
The beggar was furious to learn that Ying Hua would rather waste food
than to share it with the hungry.
He warned her about a curse that would turn the leftover rice in her bowl
into the spots on her future husband’s face. Ying Hua didn’t believe that would happen to her because she
was rich and beautiful . . . surely she would marry someone rich and handsome.
When Ying Hua was at an age for marriage her parents selected a young and handsome gentleman
from the next village to be her groom.
‘So much for that curse!’ Ying Hua thought.
However, on his way to pick up his bride on the wedding day, the groom was attacked by a hive
of bees and fell off his horse.
Strangely, he wasn’t injured anywhere except for his face.
He did not want to
scare his bride, so he covered his face with a scarf and told her that he had a terrible cough, and didn’t want
to pass any germs to her.
It wasn’t until the day after the wedding ceremony that Ying Hua found out that
her husband’s face was covered with lots of tiny spots...just like the rice that was left in her bowl.
‘The curse is true!’
Word of the curse spread like wildfire.
Mothers would warn their daughters and their neighbor’s
daughters of ‘The Curse Of The Spotty Faced Husband’.”
Silence filled the room until finally Ma shattered it.
“So much for the cock and bull story, huh?”
“I still think that the story is a bit exaggerated though,” I giggled. “It can’t be that bad to marry a husband
with as many spots as a leopard.
Look at Ba, he doesn’t look too bad.”
“It isn’t about the spots, it’s about wasting food.” Ma remarked. “That’s why you should not waste food.”
I