I was born in China & immigrated to USA at age 7. I don’t have a formal literary education, just grew up reading stuff like Journey to the West and Jin Yong martial arts novels in the original Chinese, and watching historical C-dramas with my parents. I’ve done some fair share of writing in English and translation of Chinese fics so I’d like to think I’m pretty good at making connections between the two languages now.
Hey you didn’t translate [these words] exactly right.
My philosophy with translation is that localization is more important, for conveying the feel and experience of the original. Especially with a work like MDZS, the author is very skilled at conveying nuance through tone and voice. I aim for retaining a smooth flow rather than a labored translation of each specific word.
That said, I’m never gonna be 100% perfect of course!
Got a masterpost/archive of your previous posts?
Right here!
Can you translate [this Chinese thing]?
Probably, as long as it’s not too long. Feel free to ask :) NSFW is okay too. Make sure to include the chapter number if referencing something from the MDZS novel!
What’s your opinion on [MDZS thing]
I’m not really an invested fan, I’m in it more just for the aesthetics & the chance to rant Chinese-ly about stuff 😆 Nonetheless, feel free to shoot me an Ask as long as you don’t mind the answer being potentially “🤷”
Can I ask you about [CQL thing]?
Yeah sure, I don't have a beef with the TV show, only that I don't have enough time to watch it. So if you have a question about it, be sure to tell me what episode to find what you're referring to.
What’s with your username.
It’s from the titles of MDZS chapters 41/42:
Where Xue Yang is referred to as “spicy chicken Yang”, which is a slangy way to call someone trash because “spicy chicken” and “trash” are both pronounced “la ji”. Just a bit of a Chinese in-joke 😉
Went down the rabbit hole of fandom discourse on danmei translation and saw this reddit comment that's probably representative of people's gripe with all the modern language used in MDZS:
It had me a bit confused though because if Wei Wuxian isn't supposed to sound "American", what's he supposed to sound like? A Victorian gentleman? An Elizabethan court jester? Just don't expect him to sound Chinese when you're already reading an English translation.
WWX speaks modern words because that's what he does in the Chinese original - this is what I find fascinating about these Chinese internet fictions, which is that they're often an interesting blend of poetic literary/classical Chinese and modern day internet slangs and idiomatic humour. I grew up reading tons of serious literary fiction so I find this especially refreshing. One of the main goals for online fiction writers is to keep their readers engaged and hooked, and a story written entirely in literary Chinese would be too much of a slog that might make readers lose interest. This is why even in the works of authors like Meng Xi Shi who tend to use formal/literary language, there're still plenty of modern day slangs and quips strewn about.
For me the best example of this blend of the classical and the slangy is probably 2ha. I think I once wrote a post that mentioned that Meatbun literally used the Chinese translation of the English idiom "carrot and stick" in 2ha which is set in fantasy ancient China. The idiom is common enough in modern day Chinese so most Chinese readers probably won't even notice but this is so interesting to me.
I have a question about golden cores in the MDZS universe. (Also, spoilers ahead for anyone reading this later.)
Question: does the text indicate that the golden core is a physical organ that was literally cut out of Wei Wuxian, or can the references to cutting/surgery be read as figurative?
In web chapter 89, Wen Ning tells Jiang Cheng that Wen Qing, the best doctor of the Wen Sect, cut the core out of WWX. Later, he and Lan Wangji discuss whether it’s painful and use of anesthesia. (Here, ExR again refers to “cutting”, but 7S uses “extraction”.)
Then there’s a more graphic description of gradually removing the core. (Interestingly, now 7S has a more physical description—I pictured the golden core as like a “heart” that pumps spiritual energy through your meridians—whereas ExR seems more figurative, referring to the core being “peeled” out.)
In web chapter 103, it says WWX doesn’t like to recall the sensation of his core being cut out.
All right first disclaimer: I am extremely uneducated when it comes to modern xianxia tropes/conventions; I'm clueless about what the author might've ACTUALLY had in mind and I'm still busy being befuddled over the whole "flying on swords" thing 😆
As for that particular excerpt:
看到与灵脉相连的金丹从身体中被剥离
剥离 = literally, "peeled away". I don't think this really clarifies the answer all that much.
灵脉: "Spiritual Vein". This is conventionally translated as "meridian" from Traditional Chinese Medicine, referring to the spiritual channels of chi energy within the body. They have mapped routes/paths, but as you might imagine, they are not physical organs.
金丹: The "Golden Core"/"Golden Pill". Conventionally (according to baidu), there are "external golden pills" and "internal golden pills". The external one is the equivalent of the "Philosopher's Stone" from western alchemy - a distilled pill that's supposed to grant enlightenment and immortality. The internal one (obviously the one we're dealing with here) is the metaphorical equivalent, using one's own body as the alchemical furnace, distilling one's energy/knowledge/spirituality into the ultimate uhh... source of spiritual power I guess.
Well, all that said, I still can't say absolutely definitively what it's meant to be in MDZS, but I think the typical expectation from the Chinese audience would be that it's a spiritual product, the removal of which would require magical spiritual arts. (Personally, even the concept of it being something that could be removed and transplanted elsewhere is a stretch to me... but for the sake of the sacrifice trope and giving Jiang Cheng something to angst about, sure why not.)
So much translation discourse just boils down to monolinguals not understanding that "coolness" doesn't translate across languages, and you need to re-add it manually on the other end.
No no, not literally the word "cool" I mean the [concept of coolness]. Things that sound cool, poetic, funny, dramatic, etc in one language will completely fail to land if you simply go 1-to-1 word equivalents.
In the Japanese version of Fullmetal Alchemist, the antagonists are named after the seven deadly sins, in English. As in, rather than the Japanese word, "Greed" is still Greed in the original.
Because loan words from English are often pretty "cool", as with your Spanish and French example.
But this presents a problem, because, to give them a bit of flair, the antagonists are sometimes given a proper Japanese adjective along with their name, to make a sort of title of sorts.
"Greedy Greed"
The italicized part would be a Japanese adjective, and the bolded part is an English loanword. This is fine in Japanese, but would be totally nonsense in an English translation.
After all, it's common sense to keep the names the same, duh, and obviously the whole point of what you're doing is to translate the Japanese.
Greedy Greed. You cannot call him that.
You can't go 1-to-1. To keep the [concept of coolness], you have to identify what made the original cool, and then recreate it in the new language.
And here, we have a foreign word, and a native word, both meaning the same thing, paired together to give an antagonist a cool sounding title. So how do we do that in English.
Well, the seven deadly sins, being Christian and Catholic and all, have fancy names in Latin. Or well, they just sound fancy in English, because Latin was the language of intellectuals for a long long time.
And in fact, while we also have the word "greed", English has a fancier sounding word that means the same thing, but whose etymology comes from the fancy Latin. That might give a similar cool-loanword feeling, right?
As of late, I was thinking about how literary translation is absolutely fascinating. It has the opportunity to become a complete disaster at every other sentence but when it is done well it is absolute delight to read and to compare with the original. Like, have you ever thought about how hard it is to translate puns? It is practically a god tier of literary translation.
So, I’ve been thinking about this and I know what my most favorite instance of wonderfully translated pun is: it is the gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide one, from Good Omens.
I’ve read three different fan translations of Good Omens in Russian (when it was published officially I picked it up in a library specifically to look up how had they translated this phrase) and some of them were better and some of them were worse but all of them were centered on the fact that in russian language word blue can mean both color and ‘a gay man’. My favorite vertion of this phrase was something like bluer than the sky on a booklet advertising a tropical island vacation, and others were some kind of generic like a sky in the spring or something.
I’m not really sure where I was going with this except that I’m really curious now how it was translated into other languages. So pls, tell me?
Chinese (mainland) version: He is a rabbit, more rabbit than any stimulated rabbit on analeptics.
……???????
(Upon research I found out that homosexuals can be referred to as rabbits in China, but as far as I know it’s not a very common usage now. Does this maybe also imply that Aziraphale is very sexually active???? Hahahaha
The Taiwan Mandarin version used the “happy” definition of “gay” and the translation doesn’t make too much sense: “if there is a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide, then he’ll be happier than that tree.”
I was recently informed that this translation for this particular line has been changed in the newly published Mainland Chinese version. To make things clearer for the readers and more relevant, the translation has been changed to:
“He is gayer than if you bind the protagonists from ten slash fanfictions together”
Oh, and the Taiwanese Mandarin version misinterpreted Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell’s last scene. They were talking about nipples. The translator turned nipples into kids.
I am happy to report that the bit about the Mainland Chinese translation is absolutely true. I looked it up in the ebook version, and it goes as such:
Translated back into English, it reads: Many people, upon first meeting Aziraphale, formed three impressions: he’s English, he’s clever, he’s gayer(基) than ten main characters from fujoshi (腐女, originally Japanese term for female Yaoi fans, term is also broadly used in Chinese) fanfiction bound together.
Hi everyone. I came across this short story a while ago and was so amused I knew I had to translate it into English to share with more folks. It's not MDZS, but I think those of you who are danmei fans will get a kick out of it nonetheless 😄
《皇帝与同人圈大手》 作者：吕天逸
The Emperor and the BNF
Author: Lü Tiansu
Rating: M (sexual content, non-explicit)
Once upon a time, there was a scholar who flunked his exams.
The scholar came from a poor family, plus he was a scrawny weakling, with no skills beyond reading and writing.
In order to make a living, the scholar set up a small booth where he scribed letters, sold calligraphy and art, and helped copy books.
One day, a young woman arrived stealthily at the scholar's booth. Based on her clothing, she seemed like a lady from a wealthy family; based on her expression, she seemed to have snuck out from her home.
The young woman pulled a book from her bosom, and held it out to the scholar. "Make an identical copy for me. I'll pick up seven days from now."
Having said that, she tossed a piece of silver at the scholar.
The scholar took the book, and flushed red. "And the cover?"
The young woman: "Draw it too; exactly the same."
The scholar: "..."
The cover blatantly depicted two nude men in a tender embrace.
The scholar, at a loss: "This... this is pornography?"
The young woman's eyes flashed with a piercing light, and instinctively she put on a sales pitch: "No way, this is an illustrated fic for the sitting Emperor and the High General of Zhennan. It's a super hot ship, and this is an entry piece; it's super rare. I missed the preorder, and it sold out before I could get my hands on one, so I had to borrow one from my girlfriends to make a copy for my own collection."
Tremulously, the scholar flipped open a page, and—
The Emperor: "Does Our Royal Pillar please you?"
The General moaned, "P-please..."
The scholar snapped the book shut as if he'd seen a ghost. "This, this is sacrilegious! We'll lose our heads!"
The young woman waved her hand. "Aiya, what's so sacrilegious about it. His Majesty is clearly the gong, he's on top."
Scholar: "..."
Young woman: "There's also the Emperor/his right-hand attendant, the Emperor/the Royal Architect, the Emperor/the Chancellor, Emperor/the imperial exam valedictorian, tons of ships out there, but His Majesty is always the gong, may he live forever. There's no problem."
Scholar: "..."
The current emperor had taken the throne at age sixteen. Young and handsome, he's well-loved amidst the common folk.
Young woman: "Aiya, I'm done talking to you; I've been out for too long. Take care copying the book; be careful not to get it dirty, each book costs two ounces silver!"
The scholar's hand quivered.
Two ounces of silver for a single book!
Holding back a headache, the scholar read through the book cover to cover.
Apart from the Emperor and the General's names, the entire work was smut, up to 95% smut content.
Scholar: "..."
I can write this crap too!
Yours truly's prose is even better than theirs!
Thinking again of two ounces of silver per book, the scholar's mindset cleared up.
With a clench of his teeth and a cross of his heart, the scholar stepped onto the path of sin.
He wrote up a little novella of his own.
The scholar is an academic, with more rigorous standards for himself. He felt it wasn't sufficiently literary to write pure smut, so he added some soap opera dramatics as well.
In the story, the scholar wrote that the High General of Zhennan went down south, bearing imperial orders to put down a rebellion. In the chaos of battle he was heavily injured, lost his memory, and was staying at a civilian household while his wounds healed. The emperor, having waited long for the general's return, personally set out to find him, but the general no longer recognized him. The emperor brought the general back to the palace and, in order to help the general recover his memory, would ensure daily that the general was helpless to leave his bed. The writing was refined and intricate, savory enough to cause nosebleeds.
Seven days later, the young woman came to pick up her order.
The scholar delivered his goods, then took out the book he wrote and passed it over, clasping his hands to bow towards the Emperor's palace and at the same time saying, "In the past few days, this one made an attempt at writing a story about His Majesty and the High General of Zhennan, if it would trouble Mademoiselle to give an evaluation."
The young woman accepted the scholar's novella.
A stick of incense's time later, the young woman was a puddle of tears in front of the scholar's booth.
The young woman, through snot and tears: "Hiding blades within the smut, it's too cruel!"
The scholar was frozen, scared out of his wits.
The young woman dried her tears, calmed her expression, and gazed at the scholar with a face full of adoration. "So you are actually a grandmaster of angst."
The scholar was befuddled. "Angst? Grandmaster?"
The young woman: "Aiya, it's all just terminology, you'll understand later. How much for this fic of yours?"
The scholar was slightly confounded. "If... This one only has the one draft; it's gone if I sell it. If Mademoiselle desires it, please allow this one to make a duplicate copy."
The young woman flicked her hand. "Aiya, how long is it going to take you to copy it on your own. I'll help you contact a copy factory and make like eight or ten hundred copies. Grandmaster, you write so well, it'll definitely make a killing! If you don't have enough money I'll make up the starting cost for you!"
Overjoyed, the scholar clasped his hands in thanks. "I shall remember this favor and generosity to the end of my days. May I ask how to address my benefactor?"
Young woman: "My family name's Gong; why don't you call me Gong Zuoshi."
Following the address Gong Zuoshi provided, the scholar found his way to the copy factory.
In that day and age, there was no printing press, so everything had to be copied by hand. A mid-tier copy factory has at least a few hundred scribes, each with god-tier speed and skill at the brush, and can even imitate many different script types. But they don't accept small batch orders; minimum is five hundred prints to start.
The scholar passed the book and the silver voucher Gong Zuoshi lent him to the copy factory's foreman.
The foreman was suspicious. "Who referred you?"
Scholar: "Mademoiselle Gong Zuoshi."
The foreman breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. These days the imperial guards are cracking down; for sacreligious smut books we only accept orders from known customers."
The scholar wiped away his sweat. "Understood, understood."
Foreman: "How many copies do you want?"
Scholar: "One thousand."
Foreman: "What fonts?"
Scholar: "Two hundred sans-serif gothic, two hundred brush script, two hundred comic font, two hundred bubble letters, two hundred curly cues. We'll do a variety of fonts so that the customers have more options. Thanks a lot."
Foreman: "What about targeted marketing and publicity? Will you be using our services?"
Scholar: "Mademoiselle Gong will help with all these; no need for you to trouble yourself."
Foreman: "What's your pen name?"
The scholar pondered for a moment.
For some reason, the first thing to flash across his mind was that mountain thirty leagues outside of town. When he was young and stupid, one time he drove a government official's horse carriage up the mountain, and became the joke of the town...
The scholar smiled lightly. "Just call me Mt. Qiuming's Driving God."
Foreman: "All righty."
One month later, one thousand books of sacrilegious smut rolled hot off the presses.
With its juicy drama, detailed love scenes, and a solid literary foundation, the scholar's zine sold like hotcakes. A thousand copies were snatched up in just a few days.
Nearly all of the Emperor/General fandom's fujoshi came to know of the grandmaster by the name of Mt. Qiuming's Driving God.
At two ounces of silver a book, minus the production costs, the scholar was loaded to his gills.
It was the first time he'd ever seen this much silver in his life.
And it wasn't even someone else's.
Holding the silver voucher, the scholar's hands trembled, tears gathering in his eyes.
Gong Zuoshi, having snuck out from her home again: "Aiya, what are you even doing with yourself. First print an additional three hundred copies for mail order, then hurry and write a new one while the iron's hot."
The scholar listened obediently. "Okay."
Gong Zuoshi: "This time we can commission some top-tier artists in the fandom to make a few illustrations, then add some merch on the side; it'll definitely be even more fire."
Blinded by greed, the scholar clasped his hands and bowed in the direction of the palace. "Very well, this time this one will write a few extra smut scenes for His Majesty."
Gong Zuoshi clapped her hands. "Yes yes, add a few rounds of kink-play."
The scholar bowed towards the palace and at the same time groveled, "All right, then this one will write a bondage scene for His Majesty and the High General of Zhennan."
Gong Zuoshi: "You can use white silk to do the tying."
Scholar: "Got it, in this book the general has a fiery and stubborn temper, and refuses to submit, so he tries to hang himself with white silk..."
The scholar paused, and made another bow toward the palace with hands clasped, then respectfully continued, "His Majesty arrives just in time to cut him down and save him."
Gong Zuoshi's eyes shone with giddiness. "Yes yes yes! And then a scene of unspeakable things!"
The scholar was flushed with excitement. "Okay okay, just like that!"
—The writer and co-conspirator unearthed their brain worms together.
Very soon, the scholar's second book was out of the oven.
Since this time there was no lack of funds, the copies were beautifully designed and bound with gold thread, with an add-on bonus of a potpourri pouch embroidered with the High General of Zhennan's nickname. Those who preorder one hour ahead of time can even receive an extra gift - a folding fan with a romantic verse scribed by the scholar himself.
This time the scholar's zine sold wildly, over four thousand copies. Within the fandom, the hungry readers waiting to be fed swarmed at the news - "Mt. Qiuming's Driving God has brought the smut train around! Everyone, get on board!"
This time, the scholar happened to publish his zine just in time for the doujin convention in town. Respected creators of various fandoms flocked to attend, each at their own booth, selling their zines and wares. Young ladies and housewives, baskets in hand, scooped up their favorite publications. Certain ladies of big-name households were even wearing veils over their faces, trailed by their own escort of guards, shopping from the east end of the convention to the west end - such a display of wealth!
Of course, the scholar who recently exploded in popularity became the focal point of the convention. The scholar's stand was one of the most mobbed, encircled in layers upon layers of fangirls.
"Train conductor, take me with you!"
"Grandmaster, I love you!"
"Beep—Swordswoman Card."
"Beep—Esteemed Lady Card."
"Beep—Nunnery Card."
"Beep—Grand Princess Card."
The scholar, who was busy signing autographs with a brush in hand: "..."
Hold on, was something not right about that last one!?
The scholar raised his head, and got an eyeful of a troop of fully-armed imperial guards.
The imperial guards were tightly clustered around a young woman.
The young woman looked around sixteen or seventeen years of age, beautiful and stately as a goddess descended from the heavens, bedecked in finery and jewels.
This was the sitting emperor's younger sister, the Grand Princess Difu.
Scared out of his wits, the scholar hurriedly prostrated into a kowtow. "This humble peasant greets Her Royal Highness."
The Grand Princess was not stuck up at all. Kindly she spoke, "Grandmaster, please rise."
Trembling, the scholar lifted himself, thinking he was about to be taken away to "have tea": "..."
The Grand Princess swept a glance over the scholar's stand, as if too lazy to look closely, and asked, "Whose fic are you writing?"
The scholar swallowed nervously, and tried to avoid the whole truth: "This peasant wrote about... the High General of Zhennan..."
The Grand Princess's eyes lit up slightly. "What'd you write about him?"
The scholar nearly fainted dead away. "This peasant wrote about... the High General's bravery on the battlefield, and his glorious appearance riding upon a galloping horse."
It was actually his glorious appearance lying on the bed, being ridden by the emperor!
But he can't say that!
Princess: "Is the general in a ship?"
The scholar's head shook like a rattle-drum. "No!"
The Grand Princess smirked. "Very well, then I will take a copy. Please pack up all the included merch."
The head of the imperial guard tossed two ounces of silver at the scholar. With a head full of cold sweat, the scholar wrapped up the book and merchandise.
A potpourri pouch, plus a folding fan hand-signed by the scholar.
Even though it's been two hours past the preorder period, and therefore should not include a bonus folding fan, but...
Not giving the Grand Princess a full set of merch - does he want to lose his head right there and then?!
Satisfied, the Grand Princess turned to other booths to collect more books.
Carrying bundles of books large and small, the imperial guards followed behind.
As soon as the Grand Princess left, the scholar closed up his stand and fled, discarding even the unsold books. He's already sold over four thousand copies anyway, there's not much left over.
Not only sacrilege, but deceiving the Grand Princess on top of that.
Returning home, the scholar scurried to gather his valuables, and at the same time imagined the scene after the Grand Princess returned to the palace—
Grand Princess: "O dear Royal Brother, someone wrote a fic about you and the High General of Zhennan, and they drove a smut train too."
Emperor: "..."
Grand Princess: "Hey Royal Brother, this person wrote that your Royal Pillar is a foot long, and normally wound around your waist..."
Emperor: "Someone, arrest this vile scoundrel, and off with his head!"
The scholar shook in a cold shudder, his own imagings nearly scaring the piss out of himself.
Having packed his things, the scholar wrote a small note, explaining the events today of how he met the Grand Princess at the convention and must flee for his life.
The scholar went to the Gong residence and passed the note to the servants, instructing them to make sure it landed in the hands of Mademoiselle Gong.
After sending his message, the scholar fled.
He fled all the way to Dali, which was renowned as "Shangri-la" for its scenery, as well as being very far from the Capitol city.
These days, all kinds of eloping princesses/princes/young masters and mademoiselles all loved to head to Dali.
It was a top destination for eloping.
Little did the scholar know, the day after his departure, the capitol city was completely locked down. The Anti-Obscenity Division of the imperial guard swarmed over all the notable publishing copy factories in search of the fugitive with the pen name "Mt. Qiuming's Driving God", but they returned empty-handed.
Having dodged this bullet, the scholar settled down in Dali.
After this scare, the scholar no longer dared to write fanfics anymore. But that was fine anyway, because he'd already earned plenty of silver from selling zines, and no longer needed to worry about how to make a living.
Now with money and time on his side, the scholar began remembering his old dream - to properly study, become valedictorian, and earn a high-ranking government position.
As mentioned before, Dali was a place that many people eloped to.
Including the previous imperial exam's valedictorian.
This valedictorian had a brilliant education, a solid family background, an elegant handsome face, and was the dream catch of thousands of young women. Supposedly, he shouldn't have had to do something like elope.
The problem was, the one who caught his eye was the Minister of Finance's son...
That's why he had to elope.
So the scholar requested the tutelage of the valedictorian.
From then on the scholar hit the books and burned the midnight oil every day, from "CliffsNotes" to "Princeton Review", from "The Annotated Classics" to "The Road to Valedictorian". It was long and arduous.
At last, two years passed.
Heaven rewards the diligent. In the new round of local exams, the scholar qualified to return to the Capitol for next spring's round of exams. In the series of qualifying exams he barged through all obstacles, achieved top ranking, and won eligibility to participate in the imperial exam.
The scholar was very excited.
The emperor was also very excited.
The day of the imperial exam.
Dozens of applicants were arranged in rows in the grand hall, each seated and writing at their own desk.
After the noon hour, the emperor personally attended the testing hall to survey the exam.
Having gone through two years of baptism by literary fire, the scholar had a speedy hand and a quick wit at his disposal. He was already pretty much finished, and was currently kneeling with his head bowed, resting his eyes.
Just then, the emperor walked up before the scholar, and paused, seemingly looking over the scholar's paper.
The scholar's heart thumped wildly.
After looking for a while, the emperor said, "Raise your head."
Unsure what was going on, the scholar very carefully, very slightly lifted his head.
Just then, a folding fan lightly landed upon the scholar's chin, and with an upward flick, the scholar was forced to raise his face and meet the emperor's gaze.
The emperor was indeed as handsome as the common rumors told, with blade-tipped brows and star-lit eyes, his face like crown jade.
The scholar was not bad looking either, with slightly wing-tipped almond eyes, flushed lips and bright teeth, and a thin waist.
The two stared at each other. For a moment, time seemed to stall, the great hall seemingly about to ring out with BGM at any minute.
The emperor gradually leaned down.
The scholar's palms were filled with nervous sweat.
The emperor's lips nearly brushed the scholar's ear, his voice ringing out low by the scholar's ear: "Beep—Emperor Card."
Scholar: "..."
Scholar: "..."
Scholar: "..."
I must've been hallucinating from nervousness.
The emperor straightened up, and opened the folding fan in his hand with a swish.
It was the merchandise the scholar had gifted the Crown Princess Difu two years ago, hand-scribed with the romantic verse written by the scholar himself. The handwriting was identical with the essay currently spread on the desk before the scholar.
The emperor's lip quirked ever so slightly.
A darkness fell over the scholar's eyes.
The scholar's lithe body swayed, and toppled over with a plonk.
The scholar woke to find himself lying upon the Royal Bed.
The reason he knew it was a Royal Bed as soon as he opened his eyes, was because the Royal Body was lying upon it—that is, by the scholar's side.
The emperor gazed steadily at the scholar.
The emperor's eyes were bottomless wells of black.
The scholar cleared his throat, shakily lifted the blankets, and knelt on the Royal Bed for three heavy kowtows, stuttering, "Greet, greet, greetings to Your Majesty!"
Each kowtow was accompanied by a stutter, very rhythmically.
The emperor wore an expression that may or may not be a smile. "Grandmaster, please rise."
The scholar nearly fainted again.
The emperor reached beneath the Royal Pillow and pulled out a booklet bound in gold thread, and asked leisurely word by word, "Mt. Qiuming's Driving God?"
The scholar wailed, "This peasant deserves a thousand deaths!"
Emperor: "Our Royal Pillar is a foot long, and usually wound around our waist?"
The scholar's tears twirled endlessly within his eye sockets. "It was all nonsense written by this peasant..."
The scholar's teary-eyed appearance was unexpectedly appealing. The emperor gave him an extra glance, quirked an eyebrow, and snatched the scholar's right hand.
The scholar's vision went black. "..."
I'm finished, His Majesty must be about to chop off my writing hand!
Then the next second, his hand, guided by the emperor, was pressed upon the Royal Pillar.
Scholar: "..."
Emperor: "Get a good feel."
His face beet red, the scholar took a tentative grope.
Emperor: "How long?"
Scholar, trembling: "Three inches."
Scholar: "No wait, it got a bit longer, four inches."
Scholar: "A, a bit more longer, five inches."
Scholar: "...It stopped. Five and a half inches."
Emperor: "From now on write five and a half inches. Strive for realism, understand?"
The scholar's head bobbed like a pecking chicken. "Understood."
Scholar: "May this peasant... be dismissed?"
Emperor: "We say you may."
The scholar breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like he gained back a life.
But then the emperor pointed at his five and a half inches, and said, "It says you may not."
Scholar: "..."
With a flip, the emperor pressed the scholar beneath his body.
And so, this life that the scholar just got back was nearly lost again on the Royal Bed.
After a ride on the Royal Train with the emperor, the scholar's world view was completely destroyed.
It's not that he was entirely unwilling.
After having written two whole books of m/m smut, the scholar had succeeded in un-straight-ing himself as well. Besides, the emperor was handsome and a skillful flirt, not even to mention his position of wealth. Being laid once by the emperor is not a bad deal, theoretically speaking.
But in the end the scholar was an academic, and felt this was too contrary to custom. His heart full of shame, he felt he had no dignity left to face his ancestors.
So, sobbing and blubbering, the scholar yanked three feet of white silk, and went to hang himself.
Halfway through his hanging, the emperor (who had been on the side watching the theatrics) casually strolled up, and cut down the scholar just like how it was written in the novel.
And then conveniently used those three feet of white silk to engage in a bit of bondage play.
The scholar, tied up like that in white silk: "..."
Not good, not good! This scene is a bit familiar!
Another hour passed.
The scholar sprawled limply across the Royal Bed like a broken puppet.
The emperor caught his breath, then stated, "Again."
The scholar was scared white, and rushed to guard his ass. "No, no, this peasant cannot withstand any more."
This train has been driven nearly to pieces by the emperor!
The Emperor sighed with heavy regret. "Then come back tomorrow."
Scholar: "If this peasant may dare ask..."
Emperor: "Mm?"
Scholar: "Why is Your Majesty so, so..."
Thirsty.
The emperor's eyes narrowed slightly. "You still have the nerve to ask?"
Scholar: "What?"
Emperor: "In your little book you wrote that Our Royal Pillar is a foot long, normally wrapped around the waist, causing the High General of Zhennan - who did not grimace even when cut open to the bone during surgery - to cry to the heavens, unable to leave his bed for half a month. And then your book became a bestseller, in addition to pirated copies circulating amidst the masses. In total some tens of thousands of copies have been spread far and wide."
The scholar's business mind took over, and silently calculated how much silver those ungrateful pirates stole from what should be rightfully his. His chest clenched painfully, more painful than even his ass.
If those tens of thousands of books had been sold rightfully, he could've even put himself on last year's List of Wealthiest Scholars if he wanted to!
The Emperor, gritting his teeth: "In all the cut-sleeve circles in the Capitol, no one dared to consort with Us, thus cursing Us to long lonely nights with only Our left and right hands for company."
The scholar's scalp burst with a layer of cold sweat, feeling as if he were finished.
Emperor: "We certainly cannot announce to the masses that We are actually a standard five and a half inches."
The scholar flashed upon the image of the emperor making this announcement to the masses. The corner of his mouth spasmed, nearly laughing aloud.
Emperor: "..."
The scholar hurriedly restored his face to an expression full of deep pain.
The emperor grasped the scholar's chin and turned him toward himself. "The Grand Princess said you were pretty good looking, so We wanted to see for Ourselves whether that was true."
Emperor: "If you were truly attractive, then We would have you, to vent Our heart's lust."
The scholar felt a retroactive fear. "And if it had been false?"
Emperor: "Then you'd be dragged out for fifty paddles, to vent Our heart's hatred."
Scholar: "..."
Either way his ass would be wrecked all the same.
Emperor: "From today on, you belong to Us. Stay with Us wholeheartedly, and We will ensure you win valedictorian."
In the imperial exam rankings, the emperor's opinion was very important.
The scholar felt a bit unfair. "In truth, this peasant had spent many years of hard work studying, with the guidance of a renowned instructor, and performed pretty well during this imperial exam; I had a pretty good shot to begin with..."
The emperor nodded. "Indeed, your answer was not bad. It was to Our liking."
The scholar's eyes lit up.
The emperor smiled with malice. "But if We do not allow you to win, then you can not win."
The scholar, tragically struck by a hidden rule: "..."
Emperor: "How about it?"
The scholar bowed his head and pondered, his hesitant expression gradually growing firm. After a moment, he jumped to his feet bare-assed, and stated, "This peasant fears he may not be able to obey."
The emperor furrowed his brow. "How so?"
Bare-assed, the scholar's face was resolute. "This peasant just remembered, Your Majesty had long ago wed the Chancellor's daughter as queen, and later also took the daughter of the High General of Weiwu as consort..."
The emperor's eyebrow quirked slightly.
Bare-assed, the scholar flicked a nonexistent sleeve, and cited with his head high, "If this peasant submits himself to Your Majesty in this situation, not only is it unfitting for custom, but it would be unfitting for morality."
His words concluded, the scholar climbed off the bed bare-assed, and searched for his clothes all over the floor.
The Emperor chuckled lightly. "You mean the Queen and Consort Jing?"
Continuing to bare-assedly look for his clothes, the scholar grumbled, "Correct."
The emperor bore a half-smile on his face. "Accompany Us to the rear palace, and you will understand."
The scholar declared, "This peasant has already made up his mind; I'm not going."
And so, the scrawny weakling scholar was hauled off by royal guards on his left and right to the rear palace.
The Emperor waved his hand, and the royal guards withdrew.
The Emperor led a mopey scholar in a few circles around the rear garden.
Turning a corner in a twisty corridor, the scholar caught the sight of two women pressed together.
The beautiful, haughty queen had the doe-like Consort Jing thrust against the wall.
Scholar: "..."
This must be the Queen having a jealous bout with Consort Jing!
The Emperor gave a light cough.
But neither the Queen nor Consort Jing seemed to hear, not even glancing in their direction.
The Queen tipped up Consort Jing's chin. "Little one, did We not feed you enough last night?"
Cheeks flushed red, Consort Jing shyly turned her head away.
Emperor: "..."
Scholar: "..."
And then, the Queen and Consort Jing resumed their PDA like no one was around, then went off hand-in-hand to fly kites.
Emperor: "Understand?"
Scholar: "...A little, perhaps."
Emperor: "The Queen and Consort Jing have felt this way for each other for a long time. The night before Our wedding, the Queen had originally planned to elope with Consort Jing to Dali."
Scholar: "..."
Dali again; why do you people have it out for Dali?
Emperor: "But the road is long and treacherous, and who knows how much hardship and danger two lone women would meet along the way. Furthermore, Consort Jing's constitution is frail from birth and may not withstand such turmoil, plus the Chancellor and the High General of Weiwu would be after them."
Emperor: "So We told the Queen that We were cut-sleeve, and they needed not escape. After a false wedding to Us, they could remain together long-term in the palace, and We would no longer be continuously urged to marry by the court. Everyone wins."
At the mention of being urged to marry, the emperor looked ready to cry tears of blood.
When members of the court bring up the topic of marriage, they will all do so in the format of a submitted petition, each petition bloated with tens of thousands of words, rambling from the ancestral customs to the kingdom's welfare, and then they'll kick up the dramatics to the point of threatening suicide, their power levels hundreds of times greater than a houseful of aunties gathered for the New Year.
Since it's been established from antiquity that the monarch cannot execute loyal advisors, the emperor is obliged to listen. He can only dream about dragging those old bones out the gate to be chopped a hundred times over.
The scholar came to a realization. "So then the reason Your Majesty has not sired children..."
The Emperor nodded. "We have never touched so much as a finger of theirs, and never will."
Emperor: "We prefer to touch you."
The scholar blushed red. "But if Your Majesty does not have heirs, you will still be urged by the court to do so all the same."
Emperor: "If We do not bear progeny, what of it?"
Scholar: "..."
In a flash the Emperor's countenance changed, his eyes glaring with authority. "All of you are so capable; come come come, you do the birthing, you come birth for Us."
The emperor's expression grew soft once more. "And then they dared not speak again."
Scholar: "Pfft."
A breeze swept past a flowering tree, as if tinted with a streak of soft light, and then right away, the fragrance-filled wind stole away between the two of them.
The two's eyes met for a long moment.
Using the folding fan signed by the scholar, the emperor gently lifted the scholar's chin, and asked softly, "So, are you willing or not?"
The scholar won valedictorian.
Having fulfilled the dream of both the scholar and eighteen generations of the scholar's ancestors, one could say he has honored his ancestors plenty.
From then on, the scholar began a life of attending court during the day, and being courted at night.
The emperor had a mischievous sense of humor. He ordered the scholar to revive the pen name Mt. Qiuming's Driving God, and return to his old work of writing fics.
But, this time the scholar only wrote for the ship of Emperor/newly ranked valedictorian, and none of it smutty; it was all fluff fic focused solely on romance.
The Emperor had a small shelf in his royal library, filled with the novellas written by the scholar.
Different subjects, different scenarios, but the main characters are always the Emperor and the scholar.
Emperor: "When We read these books of yours, it feels as if We had already spent many lifetimes with you."
The emperor was happy, but the Capital's fujoshi circle was full of wails and tears.
It's a disaster! The grandmaster has committed fandom adultery!
Changing ships was forgivable, but he didn't even write smut anymore. It was all fluff fic as pure as water.
The readers were all commenting they were going to die from blandness!
What they didn't know was, the grandmaster Mt. Qiuming's Driving God was still driving the smut train in private on the daily.
It's just that this train carried only the Emperor alone.
Whatever the Emperor wanted to read, the scholar wrote for His Majesty. And after the Emperor's done reading it, he'd put it into practice at night.
"Beep—Emperor Card."
[End]
Epilogue (F/M)
The Emperor arranged a marriage between the High General of Zhennan and the Grand Princess Difu.
He was as handsome as she was lovely, a well-matched couple.
But the Grand Princess was unwilling.
The emperor was puzzled. "The High General of Zhennan had already proved his worth on the battlefield at a young age. He's handsome and well-off, with land and status. Why, Dear Sister, are you unwilling?"
Princess: "I just feel like the High General of Zhennan trips my gaydar hard."
The High General of Zhennan was shocked. "Your Majesty! Your humble servant has been wronged!"
Emperor: "What gives you this impression, Dear Sister?"
Princess: "Maybe from a book I read."
Emperor: "...Could it be that one your brother-in-law wrote?"
The Grand Princess nodded.
Originally the Grand Princess had been fond of the handsome and mighty general...
But a shadow fell over her heart because of a zine!
The High General of Zhennan was as wronged as a blizzard in June. "Your humble servant is straight as a yardstick; I beg the Princess to verify!"
The Emperor waved his hand. "Your brother-in-law was writing nonsense. I've already disciplined him; no need to mention it further."
Later on, the High General of Zhennan spent a Herculean effort to pursue the Grand Princess. The Grand Princess finally agreed.
The two of them began a happy life together.
Aside from the Prince Consort always wanting to strangle his brother-in-law... everything was perfect.
Yeah I'll give it a shot, these are punning the word 兔 (rabbit) with auspicious sayings:
大有前“兔”: A homophone of 大有前途, "great promise lies ahead". My translation: A"bun"dance ahead
扬眉“兔”气: A homophone of 扬眉吐气, which means literally "raise [one's] brows and exhale," used in ways like "feeling relieved", "carefree", or "to be free from oppression". 扬眉 also sounds the same as 杨梅 (bayberry) which is the red fruit in the picture. My translation: A breath of fresh "hare"
“苹”安喜乐: A homophone of 平安喜乐, "peace [and] happiness". 平 sounds the same as the 苹 in 苹果 (apple). My translation: "Happle" New Year
Well that's enough bun-puns for now, I gotta get back to work (and also I'm nearly dead from cheesiness). The last three are left as an exercise to the reader 😆
begging fandoms of chinese media to actually come to terms with the fact that it is chinese media. why are you talking about how this character acts italian. he just has dongbei uncle energy. what the fuck do you mean this character would have a scottish accent. he sure as hell has a countryside accent but you're literally going outside the country. that man is not a witch, he's a cultivator because literally this entire story revolves around daoist cultivation!!!!!!!!! stop trying to assign false equivalents to make this media more digestible for you and reckon with the fact that you're dealing with a story from a culture other than yours!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don't know... as a translator (i.e. someone whose work on this blog is bridging folks of one culture with a different culture), I feel there is room for nuance here. Unless you're fluent enough to consume the media in the original language AND familiar with all the cultural references, there's always going to be some amount of translation into your own personal context. The word "cultivator" sounds awkward to me because it doesn't capture the dignity and significance of 修士, yet here we are because that's the best English can do. Similarly, when I'd read professional Chinese translations of Lord of the Rings, the references to "elves" constantly sounded ridiculous because there just is no cultural equivalent in Chinese, and the closest word available (精灵) was one that evoked "pixies" or "Smurfs". I don't think it's a crime to step outside of strict definitions in order to look for analogues to help people understand.
(I once translated Suzhou dialect into an Irish accent, after all.)
Now, from the perspective of a POC, it can definitely feel like "You're just refusing to understand our actual culture". But from the perspective of a foreigner, especially one who is new to the culture, they probably don't have the knowledge or context to understand what the heck is a Dongbei uncle like, or how zhajiangmian noodles taste. Personally, I think one of the most beautiful things in art is when it can draw connections between seemingly unrelated things, and impart new meaning where there hadn't been before. Don't people find it cool when they see, say, Disney princesses drawn in hanbok fashion, or Star Wars reimagined into Greek mythology?
Of course, fandom newbies shouldn't stay wide-eyed newbies forever, and should eventually gain familiarity with the culture and customs of their fandom's world. But I don't think it's as black and white as "If you don't view everything the 100% Chinese way, you're a RACIST FOREIGNER." Even I am an immigrant who hasn't lived in China in decades, and so cannot catch every reference or nuance in modern Chinese slang or deep literary academia. Yes, many Western fans "can" do better. Yet how "Chinese-educated" are they obliged to be in order to enjoy a piece of media for fun?
伏魔洞, the name of the Yiling Laozu's den in the Burial Mounds: 伏 means "[to make] prostrate", as well as "subdue", while 魔 is "demon", and 洞 is "cave". To a typical wuxia audience, it would be read as "Demon-conquering cave." But as WWX explains:
只因为我经常在这儿睡觉。有魔头趴在地上睡觉的洞，可不就是伏魔洞？
"It's just because I'm often sleeping in here. A cave where a demon's lying asleep on the floor - is that not a Cave-Where-Demons-Prostrate?"
After sitting on it for nearly a year, it finally occurred to me how to translate this.
Wei Wuxian replied, "Simple. It's just because I sleep in here a lot. It's not the DEMON SLAYING CAVE, it's the DEMON'S LAYING CAVE. Get it?"
the thing you need to realize about localization is that japanese and english are such vastly different languages that a straight translation is always going to be worse than the original script. nuance is going to be lost and, if you give a shit about your job, you should fill the gaps left with equivalent nuance in english. take ff6, my personal favorite localization of all time: in the original japanese cefca was memorable primarily for his manic, childish speaking style - but since english speaking styles arent nearly as expressive, woolsey adapted that by making the localized english kefka much more prone to making outright jokes. cefca/kefka is beloved in both regions as a result - hell, hes even more popular here
a literal translation is an inaccurate translation.
localization’s job is to create a meaningful experience for a different audience which has a different language and different culture. they translate ideas and concepts, not words and sentences. often this means choosing new ideas that will be more meaningful and contribute to the experience more for a different audience.
There was an example during late Tokugawa period in Japan where the translator translated, "Я люблю Вас” (I love you), to “I could die for you,” while translating Ася, ( Asya) a novel by Ivan Turgenev. This was because a woman saying, “I love you,” to a man was considered a very hard thing to do in Japanese society.
In a more well-known example, Natsume Soseki, a great writer who wrote, I am a Cat, had his students translate “I love you,” to “the moon is beautiful [because of] having you beside tonight,” because Japanese men would not say such strong emotions right away. He said that it would be weird and Japanese men would have more elegance.
Both of these are great examples of localization that wasn’t a straight up translation and both of these are valid. I feel like a lot of people forget the nuances in language and culture and how damn hard a translator’s job is and how knowledgeable the person has to be about both cultures. [x]
Note that you can apply this to your own translations even if they aren’t big pieces of literature or something. Don’t feel bad about not translating word for word. An everyday sentence may sound odd translated literally - it’s okay to edit a little bit so it feels right!
Oh my god, I’m about to go on a ramble, I’m sorry, I can’t help it, the inner translation nerd is coming out. I’m so sorry. The thing is–there is actually no such thing as an accurate translation.
It’s literally an impossible endeavor. Word for word doesn’t cut it. Sense for sense doesn’t cut it, because then you’re potentially missing cool stuff like context and nuance and rhyme and humor. Even localization doesn’t really cut it, because that means you’re prioritizing the audience over the author, and you’re missing out on the original context, and the possibility of bringing something new and exciting to your host language. Foreignization, which aims to replicate the rhythms of the original language, or to use terminology that will be unfamiliar to the target culture–(for example: the first few American-published Harry Potter books domesticated the English, and traded “trousers” for “pants”, and “Mom” for “Mum”. Later on they stopped, and let the American children view such foreignizing words as “snog” and “porridge.”)–also doesn’t cut it, because you risk alienating the target readers, or obscuring meaning.
Another cool example is Dante, and the words written above the gates of hell: Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
In the original Italian, that’s Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate. Speranza, like most nouns in latinate languages, has a gender: la. Hope, in Italian, is gendered female. Abandon hope, who is female. Abandon hope, who is a woman. When the original Dante enters hell, searching for Beatrice, he is doomed, subtly, from the start. That’s beautiful, subtle, the kind of delicate poetic move literature nerds gorge themselves on, and you can’t keep it in English. Literally, how do you preserve it? We don’t have a gendered hope. It doesn’t work, can’t work. So how do you compensate? Can you sneak in a reference to Beatrice in a different line? Or do you chalk her up as a loss and move onto the next problem?
You’re always going to miss something–the cool part is that, knowing you’re going to fail, you get to decide how to fail. Ortega y Gasset called this The Misery and Splendor of Translation. Basically, translation is impossible–so why not make it a beautiful failure?
My point is that literary translation is creative writing, full of as many creative decisions as any original poem or short story. It has more limitations, rules, and structures to consider, for sure–but sometimes the best artistic decision is going to be the one that breaks the rules.
My favorite breakdown of this is Le Ton Beau De Marot, a beautiful brick of a translator’s joke, in which the author tries over and over again to create a “perfect” translation of “A une Damoyselle Malade”, an itsy bitsy poem Clement Marot dashed off to his patron’s daughter, who was sick, in 1537.
This is the poem:
Ma mignonne,
Je vous donne
Le bon jour;
Le séjour
C’est prison.
Guérison
Recouvrez,
Puis ouvrez
Votre porte
Et qu’on sorte
Vitement,
Car Clément
Le vous mande.
Va, friande
De ta bouche,
Qui se couche
En danger
Pour manger
Confitures;
Si tu dures
Trop malade,
Couleur fade
Tu prendras,
Et perdras
L’embonpoint.
Dieu te doint
Santé bonne,
Ma mignonne.
Seems simple enough, right? But it’s got a huge host of challenges: the rhyme, the tone, the archaic language (if you’re translating something old, do you want it to sound old in the target language, too? or are you translating not just across language, but across time?)
Le Ton Beau De Marot is a monster of a book that compiles all of Hofstader’s “failed” translations of Ma Mignonne, as well as the “failed” translations of his friends, and his students, and hundreds of strangers who were given the translation challenge (which you can play here, should you like!)
The end result is a hilarious archive of Sweet Damosels, Malingering Ladies, Chickadees, Fairest Friends, and Cutie Pies. It’s the clearest, funniest, best example of what I think is true of all literary translations: that they’re a thing you make up, not a thing you discover. There is no magic bridge between languages, or magic window, or magic vessel to pour the poem from one language to another–translation is always subjective, it’s always individual, it’s always inaccurate, it’s always a failure.
It’s always, in other words, art.
Which, as a translator, I find incredibly reassuring! You’re definitely, one hundred percent absolutely, gonna fuck up. Which means you can’t fuck up. You can take risks! You can experiment! You can do cool stuff like bilingual translations, or footnote translations! You write your own code of honor, your own rules that your translations will hold inviolable, and fuck it if that code doesn’t match everyone else’s*. The translations they hold inviolable are also flawed, are failures at the core, from the King James Bible right on down to No Fear Shakespeare. So have fun! It’s all in your hands, miseries and splendors both.
I am wondering if you could help me with another translation question
I was rereading the Phoenix Mountain Hunt Chapters in the 7S version and I realized what truly got Wei Wuxian upset at Jin Zixun was he insulted the Yunmeng Jiang Clan.
But comparing the EXR and Seven Seas Translation I get almost a different implication here
“So the YunmengJiang Sect‟s discipline is nothing more than this!” - EXR
“So this is all the Jiang Yunmeng upbringing amounts to” - Seven Seas
While these translations are very similar EXR makes me think of how the clan disciplines it’s disciples. But the Seven Seas one makes me think of how Wei Wuxian was brought up in the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. Both are very insulting of course. But the second sounds even more so to me as it almost sounds like it’s insulting how JFM and YZY raised him who are not of course deceased.
May I ask how would you translate this line?
Note this is found at the very end of Ch 69 of the web novel and Chapter 15 of the print version
云梦江氏的家教，也不过如此！
I guess the key to this question comes down all to the word 家教, which translates literally to "family teaching". In everyday conversation, this would pretty much always refer to a kid's upbringing by their parents - and I feel like here "upbringing" makes more sense to the reader than "discipline", since JZX is trying to be mad about WWX's manners. All in all I think both translations are decent, but in the end I would go with the 7seas one.
I accidentally started a full scale translation debate over the wording of a small sentence of MDZS 7s translations 😂
I thought you might want to throw your expertise into the mix as well! 🤔
Here is the post for ref, including the 7s translation to compare.
He gradually lowered his head. The distance between the two faces became closer and closer. Closer and closer. At the point where it became hard for Wei WuXian to breathe, Lan WangJi finally opened his mouth.
He stayed silent for a few moments, “Get off.”
Chapter 12 - ExR
The above just reads better to me. I think the tone of the 7s translation is just lacking the sexual tension that the above manages to convey.
开口 does translate literally to "[to] open [one's] mouth", but it's also used as a general term for "to speak". Especially in this context where, after 蓝忘机终于开口了 (Lan Wangji finally opened his mouth), 他沉默了一阵 (he was silent for a while) - it doesn't really make sense for him to be pausing there agape like a fish 😅
The distance between the two faces grew closer, and closer, until they were so close that Wei Wuxian was almost having trouble breathing, when Lan Wangji finally spoke up.
He was silent for quite a while, then said, "Get off."
(Now, I did translate that here as close to the original wording as I could. If I were editing/localizing it for flow & atmosphere, quite possibly I would end up with something closer to the 7seas version!)
Wei WuXian got toothaches whenever he saw anybody from the Lan Sect. In his past life, he had always thought of that sect’s uniform as “mourning clothes”, which was why he would never mistake it. - ExR chapter 3 page 15
Could you please help explain this little section of Chapter 3. He got toothache?
Easy one! This "toothache" is just another way of saying "He got a headache whenever..." 😄 It's maybe a little slangier than "headache" but the implication is the same. I've also seen MXTX use "蛋疼" in her other novels which would be uh... "make [his] huevos ache", if you will 🤭
Your 'Get thee to a punnery' post was very interesting to read. I always interpreted the:
Wei WuXian, “It’s very amusing. But, believe me, my words are as much a trifle as my moves are, which means not at all.” ExR
As WWX kinda insinuating something like:
"My words and actions might look like I'm just messing around, but actually they're always deliberate and thought-out" - Because this is actually a character trait of WWXs. But I guess that's quite far off what it is actually means to be!?
Yeah, basically - I have the translation as direct as possible in the original post :) I think the translation above was trying a bit hard to inject meaning into the (admittedly slippery) quippage.
By the way, out of curiosity I looked up the official translation's take:
Hi, I've lurked for a while, and don't have a tumblr account, but I was wondering if you could clarify the narrative about WWX's wound in volume 3 of 7Seas, Ch 14 beginning? the English both insists the wound from Jin Ling is fully healed and also that it is very painful when he moves suddenly. This is part of the English "He immediately withdrew his hands and made to roll away, but the exaggerated movement aggravated the wound on his abdomen. He muttered an “ouch” and wrinkled his brow, only
Hiya! The translation above is fairly accurate to the original, if you're looking it on a sentence-by-sentence basis. Reading the Chinese passage raised the same questions and I had to look over it a couple extra times. Notable points:
WWX is bullshitting bravado when he first says "It doesn't hurt".
It may be more accurate to translate the terminology in the original, 愈合, as "the wound had already closed" or "healed over", rather than plain "healed".
I'm no doctor, but I think often, the skin on top of a deep wound can close up and heal before the underlying injury does. And I'm pretty sure that's the case with WWX here.
Umm I think that's all I have to say. Hope that helps!
I love your blog and translations. They so detailed and your explanations are fantastic.
I'm curious what is being said in two parts of the Dafan Mountain chapters. I've seen a few people translate things differently and I thought you might be able to clear things up a little! 🙏🏻
Chapter 52
Just as he was about to say, "do you want me to carry you", a fragrant breeze suddenly wafted around his nose. Wei WuXian turned around and looked to the side. His eyes immediately lit up.
Some people have used herbal/medicinal scent instead of fragrant here.
Chapter 54
Wei WuXian spoke as he picked them out, “I can’t believe that the girl’s perfume sachet ended up so useful. I’ll have to thank her properly when we go back.”
Some people have used 'we'll have to thank her' rather than 'i'll' - curious which is correct? 🤔
Ch. 52:
他正准备说“要不要我背你”，忽然一阵香风扑鼻。魏无羡回头望向侧前方，登时眼睛一亮。
香 means "fragrant/aromatic" and 风 means "wind/breeze", it's pretty straightforward here. Given that the source of the aroma is (next paragraph) a group of young ladies, the description is not meant to be anything but "nice scent from pretty girls".
Ch. 54:
“想不到这个小丫头的香囊派上了大用场，回去可得好好感谢她。”
This is one of those occasions where Chinese omits the subject/pronoun, so he literally only said "After going back, have to properly thank her." You could plausibly take it as WWX implying either "I" or "we", but I believe he is talking more about himself here.
