Chapter 5

 

Shi Po walked through the classroom, idly tracing her fingers over a blank wall. When she taught, a scroll hung there. She closed her eyes, remembering the text.

Whoever brings together movement, breath, and semen becomes indestructible.

It was hidden now, as it was after every class. Many thought Tigresses were deviant, evil creatures on the surest path to Buddha's displeasure. They believed it a virtue to revile one such as her. She didn't blame them for their ignorance. Once, she had thought exactly the same.

She turned away from the blank wall, wandering out into the larger room where she and her cubs exercised. It, too, was empty now, the walls stripped bare.

Looking around, she felt a kinship with this large, hollow space. In this room, her students had become enlightened; they had learned about their bodies and men's bodies. They had expanded the narrow province of what women were allowed in China and found a way to provide for themselves and possibly attain immortality.

She had done great things here. Just as she herself had given birth to three children, managed a household, and been a good wife to her husband. But now, she felt a great, empty nothingness. Like this room, she had no ties, no decoration. And only one last task to perform.

She had that task in her hand. It had taken her a long time to decide, for choosing a new wife for one's husband was a strange but challenging task. Whoever replaced her would not only care for Kui Yu and his sons, but also take over her Tigress teaching. In that way, the new woman would fulfill both Shi Po's promise of sturdy sons to support Kui Yu in his old age, while also training warm and beautiful young women who were strong enough to hold their destiny in their own hands.

It was a large task; but when put so simply, there was only one choice, one woman whom Shi Po trusted: Little Pearl. And so she had written up the assignment, matching Little Pearl with Kui Yu.

She knew they would end up married. Little Pearl would know immediately what was expected, and Kui Yu was a man of easy passions. He would fall quickly into the trap of attachment to his new partner. She estimated two months at most before the wedding announcement.

She set the scroll on the slightly raised dais, right where she stood when leading her class's exercises. She set her dagger beside it and turned to her next task.

Now, where did she want to die? Where was best to stage her ascension? She asked the questions, but did not pursue the answers. Instead, she left the knife beside her instructions to Little Pearl and wandered across the large, dark room.

"I knew you would come here."

Shi Po spun around, startled by her husband's soft voice. He stood in the main doorway, his face shadowed, his evening clothing luminous in the moonlight.

Had she once again been waiting for him, wondering if he would come to give a final good-bye? Or was her dedication wavering? Did she wish him to talk her into another choice? She didn't know, and that bothered her. One could not ascend to Heaven with a cluttered soul. Which meant she could not ascend until she found peace with her husband.

"I have been waiting for you," she said with sudden illumination. "I wish for harmony between us."

The room was dark, but moonlight filtered in enough to show him the scroll and dagger, especially as he had excellent vision. "You are still determined, then. Despite your promise to start again," he said.

She shook her head. "I have no need to start again. Only to end well."

"Do not all people wish to redo what went wrong, to return to where they left the correct path?"

Shi Po felt herself smile, startled that he could evoke her humor even now. "But I have not left the correct path. And I have done all most excellently."

"Ah," he said, stepping fully into the room. "Sometimes I forget that you are indeed the most perfect wife a man could have."

She joined him where he stood. "I did not say I was an excellent wife. I said I have done all I intended. And done those things well." She said the words, even meant them as she did, but inside a small part of her wondered. Had she truly done everything? Had she done all that could be done, accomplished all that she wanted in this life?

As she struggled with her thoughts, Kui Yu took her hands, his expression sober. "There is more, Shi Po. Truly there is much more for you."

She shook her head. "My children are grown, my tigress school thrives. There is nothing more but immortality." She turned away from him and crossed to her scroll of instructions. Picking it up, she spoke—but to the blank wall, not Kui Yu.

"I have assigned Little Pearl to you. She will instruct—aii!"

His arm wrapped around her throat, cutting off her breath as he dragged her backward. Her hands dug into his forearm to no avail. And all the while he spoke, his voice low in her ear.

"You are my partner, Shi Po. I will take no other."

She didn't answer, and after a moment's thought, she let her hands fall limp to her sides. She would not struggle. His hold was not intended to choke her, just to get her attention. He had it. But she had something else: a clear path. So she relaxed, and in time, so did he. But he continued to stand behind her, his arm wrapped loosely about her neck.

"Kui Yu—"

"You promised," he whispered, and his voice betrayed desperation more than anger. "You said you would wait."

"I have waited. Until I resolved those things you mentioned. But now all is settled—"

"Nothing is settled!" With a quick jerk, he spun her to face him. She tottered on her bound feet, but he held her safe. As he always had done. Looking into his eyes, she saw anguish.

"It will pass, Kui Yu," she said. "You will find—"

His mouth was suddenly on hers. She thought to struggle. She intended to fight him. This lovemaking would only bring him pain. But the yin tide was already rising, her body softening. And, she thought, perhaps this was meant to be; perhaps the Goddess Kwan Yin had sent him to be with her. He could bring her yin tide to its crest and aid her transition to immortality.

It was right and proper that a husband should ease his wife's transition from one life into the next, and so she allowed herself to relax into his arms, to arch her body against his, to open herself up as only a woman can with a man she trusts.

And in this way... "You will take me to Heaven," she murmured.

He stilled, his lips not leaving hers. Then he nodded, his words as much breathed into her skin as spoken aloud. "I will do this with you. I will take you to immortality. Here. And we will see what can be done."

She smiled, pleased he understood. "Start with—"

"I need no instruction in this, wife. I know how to love a woman."

"But this—"

His fingers stopped her words. He had drawn his face back, his body slowly separating from hers. "Trust me, Shi Po. I read your scrolls. I will bring your yin tide to such height that we will both drown in it."

She nodded, realizing that he had to express his good-bye in his own manner. So she relaxed and allowed herself to become all that was feminine, agreeable, and receptive. She would take what he offered and cherish the gift. It was the least she could do now that she understood how much he would suffer when she was gone.

So long as she kept the dagger nearby, so long as she had it when yin and yang flowed at their peaks, then she could ascend to immortality in the proper way. She had chosen a poison with just this plan in mind. It would provide that last bit of needed power to launch her to Heaven.

She reached up to the collar of her blouse and slipped the buttons free, opening the fine silk. She moved slowly out of habit, remembering that men loved to watch a woman undress. Indeed, her husband's eyes followed the slow slide of fabric to her undergarment—a diamond-shaped thin gauze that hinted at the shapes and colors beneath. She dropped the silk on the floor, then began untying her skirt at the waist. The binding clung to her hips until she shimmied. Then it slipped down.

She stood before her husband, her only covering the bindings on her feet and the undergarment that covered from her breasts to her navel. Knowing the effect it would have on her husband, she stepped out of her skirt and into a wash of moonlight, allowing the ghostly light to illuminate her skin.

His eyes followed her, slowly traveling from her face down past the two embroidered butterflies spiraled together on her undergarment. His gaze hovered at the tasseled bottom of the diamond, where the gathered threads swayed. Then he stopped, his vision transfixed by the tattooed tigress just beneath that silk fringe. The tattoo continued down between her thighs and up her back to where the tigress's tail coiled at the base of her spine. Without conscious thought, she began to move, making the tigress dance.

She quickly stopped, choosing not to tease him in this manner. Now was not the time for such artifice. They would have honesty instead.

Kui Yu reached out, stroking his fingers across the tiger's eye ridge, across the flesh above her shaved sex. Then he pushed onward, sliding his long middle finger down and across the tigress's belly. In and in he went. Deeper. Lower. With excruciating patience. While Shi Po's legs trembled.

She stood there, watching him watch her. And below, she felt his middle finger wiggle and caress, his other fingers fanning out to graze all of her pleasure grotto. It was as if he were holding not only her, but everything she ever was or would be. She wanted to speak, but her throat was dry. She wanted to whisper endearments, but such words had never come to her lips. Never in honesty, at least; and she would not lie to Kui Yu now.

So she stood silent, and her breath hitched with every shifting of his fingers, until he was nearly inside her.

Her cave was moist, but the opening remained vaginally narrow. Shi Po had spent many long hours making sure it was so. But so plentiful was her yin rain that his longest finger easily slid around and to her opening. It poised there, her husband waiting and watching while she said nothing.

She understood his thoughts. It had been years since she had allowed anyone, even Kui Yu, to penetrate her cave. No dragon had stretched her entrance. No finger or even Tigress ball had strengthened the muscles. Nothing beyond her own hand for bathing had been allowed. Would she accept his intrusion? Would she...

She tensed, years of training instinctively tightening her muscles against him. And feeling her reaction, he slowed. She grabbed hold of his arm.

"Let me control my breath," she whispered. With control of her air, she could control her body.

He stood absolutely still while she breathed through her nose and recited Tigress poetry in her head. She would allow the lotus to open. She would let the dew coat its petals. And she would feel the bee as it...

He was inside her.

She gasped at the intrusion, tightening her hold on his arm to steady herself. Deeper and deeper he delved. His finger twisted, shifting and adjusting while she felt his every firm inch against her petals.

His other fingers were not idle. They fanned open, and now they adjusted, pressing against places that were not in the scrolls, areas that many a tutored hand would not find. But her husband was not instructed in any technique, so he simply touched all, teased every part of her. And now, his thumb joined its brothers, burrowing cleverly in a manner that sent bursts of yin heat across Shi Po's skin.

Shi Po wanted to lie down. She wanted to spread her legs and allow Kui Yu an open field in which to explore. Her yin was strong, but she knew how much more could be done, how white hot the blaze could grow. But she had no focus to form the words, no desire to interrupt his explorations merely to ease the strain on her feet. So she stood as still as her trembling legs would allow, her breath coming in tiny pants.

And still he pushed deeper. She had not thought his finger so long, so large, and yet it was. She felt it to the top of her womb as he continued to twist, to slide, and to probe. Until he was done. Until he withdrew his hand in one abrupt pull.

Shi Po cried out, tightening her thighs against his escape, trying desperately to slow it. But he'd been too strong for her, too quick.

"Terrible, isn't it? To suddenly lose that which has grown comfortable?" he asked. She knew he referred to her imminent departure. He was trying to give her a small taste of the pain he would experience on her death.

She shook her head. "You were never fully comfortable, my husband. And even if you were, why would you want it to continue? 'He who is not satisfied with his life will grow,'" she quoted. " 'A comfortable man becomes lazy and stagnant.'"

Anger flashed cold and hard in his eyes. "I am done wasting words on you, wife. I would forbid your suicide if I thought you would listen. I would lock you in your room and tie your hands, but that would only harden your determination. Therefore, I will take my last enjoyment of your body. I will bring your yin tide to its peak, my yang to its fullness, and then we shall see who enters Heaven first. Will it be you, with your training and your discipline, or me, drenched in your yin rain?"

"It will be me," she whispered. "You know it will."

He shrugged, his eyes glittering with feverish zeal. "Do not be so sure," he growled. "I have as much yang as you have purified yin. Tonight, I intend to take what I want and leave tomorrow to fortune."

Shi Po nodded, accepting the challenge. She was startled to find her breath quickening with excitement. So much of the Tigress path echoed with sameness, repetition, and boredom. This, at least, would be different.

"Then it shall be," she answered, knowing she reflected his determination back at him.

As she reached behind her neck, intending to release the upper tie to her undergarment, he stopped her, his hands firm as he gripped her wrists. He said, "I will undress you, wife. In my time and in the manner of my choosing."

He released her hands, which dropped slowly down her sides. She frowned in thought. Something was different about Kui Yu. Something dark and powerful possessed him. Something blacker even than the moon-drenched night. For a moment she paused, her thoughts slipping to the outside world, to the question of what exactly her husband did in Shanghai during his days. What tasks could have brought such darkness to his usually bright spirit?

"Kui Yu...," she began, but she had no time. He reached behind her to the dais. Grabbing her dagger, he unsheathed the blade with the ringing sound of metal against metal.

"Kui Yu!" she cried as he placed the naked blade in his palm. It glittered there, cold and deadly. "It is coated with poison," she warned. One tiny cut and he would die.

"I know," he said, continuing to stare at the blade. Then his gaze flicked to her for a brief moment. "Arrange yourself, wife. On your back."

She glanced around the empty room, to the cold wooden floor. "We should retire to our bedchamber," she suggested.

He glanced at the floor, then with long strides stepped to the hidden compartment in the wall. He knew the cache well, and exactly what was hidden there. In no time at all, he pulled out the silk hanging that adorned the wall when she taught. With a mighty heave, he unrolled it on the floor.

"Lie on that," he snarled.

She did not argue. She knelt on the soft white fabric, then, as he glared at her, shifted position. Her bottom hit the pristine silk, her legs slowly extended before her, astride the word "semen." Kui Yu stood above her, his eyes blackened pits in a shadowy face.

"Array yourself!" he commanded again.

She shivered. Though she had wanted just this situation a few moments ago, now it made her quail with apprehension. She knew her yin rain had dried, yet she would not disobey. She couldn't, for she sat directly upon the character "bring together," her feet extending toward the word "indestructible."

"Lie down."

She did, her stomach quivering beneath the tiny tassel of her undergarment, her neck straining to keep her head upright to watch the dark and unbalanced stranger above her. He was stripping off his clothing with hard and angry jerks. Perhaps she could reach him now in his distraction, find again the man she knew, the one who would hate to see her uncomfortable, who would leap to reassure her.

But her words died in her throat the moment he turned back, roughly pushing her legs apart. He was completely naked as he dropped to his knees between her spread thighs, the hair on his legs brushing a tingling heat along her sensitive skin.

"Do not speak," he ordered. "Do not even breathe deeply."

She swallowed, feeling as weak as her tattooed tigress, who now lay with its naked belly exposed. Then he brought out her knife, extending the tip toward her as he lay it lengthwise on her belly. The point aimed toward her neck, the carved hilt dragon extended down to where her husband's own organ bobbed in hungry desire.

"I would see your breasts, my wife. I would have all your secrets exposed tonight." And so saying, he slid the blade upward, easily slicing the silk tassel. Then, stitch by tiny stitch, he cut her undergarment away.

She could kill herself now. All she needed to do was take a deep breath, one sharp inhalation, and the dagger tip would pierce her skin. With a quick tightening of her belly, a slight lift to her chest—part of her daily Tigress exercises—she could ensure the point went deep enough. The poison would flow into her blood. She would die.

But she wasn't ready. Her yin fluids were rapidly cooling in her prone state. Death now would be fruitless, a certain descent into a cold grave rather than the ascent to Heaven that she'd planned.

No, she would not impale herself now. And looking at Kui Yu's hardened expression, she knew he'd been certain of that. Despite all the imbalance between them, he understood her better than anyone.

So it continued: the cold blade sliding against her shrinking flesh, the steady tug then release as thread after thread strained against its sharp edge, then lost the battle and fell away, split neatly in two. Shi Po didn't speak. And she didn't close her eyes. She wanted to watch this new man who lived inside her husband's skin. She wanted to read his thoughts and learn what he intended next.

At last, the coarse brush of gauze slipped across her breasts and fell away. Shi Po's nipples tightened in the cool air and thrust toward her husband. Her only covering remained at the top of her garment, where the double-stitched hem stopped her blade. Kui Yu settled the dagger there in the notch at the center of her collarbone.

"Arch, my wife," he ordered, his voice a thick growl. "Lift your breasts to me, show me the white of your throat."

She did as he bade her. How could she not? She dared not risk a nick on her chin. But she acted in her own way, moving of her own choosing. She was a Tigress after all, with a set of skills well learned from years of practice.

Pressing her bound feet down against the floor, she lifted her hips, then her back. As she moved, she felt the knife slide downward, back between her breasts. But she didn't stop there. She continued her undulation, forcing her belly upward, rolling her chest high so that her breasts trembled just below his mouth. And then, at the very last, her head fell back, exposing her neck.

She froze there, in arched display before him.

"Is this what you meant?" she asked, her voice overly sweet, because she knew it was not at all what he intended; it had been so much more. In this manner, she planned to regain some command over the situation. A man overcome with lust could be easily controlled.

Her husband, however, was not overcome. Instead, he leaned farther and farther forward. Shi Po's nipples tightened as his hot breath skated across them. He was kneeling on all fours over her, the blade inching higher and higher on her body. Surely it was against her throat now. She could feel the death energy tingling against her chin.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice coarse and low. "You are exactly what I want."

Then he lifted the blade, clipping the last of the fabric away. Then he tossed the blade across the room.

Her back was beginning to strain, her arch too heavy to hold. But she felt Kui Yu's yang heat like a hot breeze against her chilled body. It drew her upward, no matter that her muscles protested the strain. Despite the strangeness of this encounter, despite the anger that still hardened his features, Shi Po's body recognized the roiling yang within her husband. She wanted to touch him, she wanted to merge with him. She simply wanted. But he would not lower himself to her. And she could not sustain her position for long.

Eventually her back gave out, and she sank back to the floor. Only then did he follow. Only then did he touch her. And only then did she close her eyes, the exquisiteness of his tongue's caress bringing a sigh of delight from her lips.

He sucked on her left nipple. Without touching any other part of her body, he drew the peak into his mouth and rubbed his tongue across it. Up. Down. Up. Down. Suction at every stroke.

Shi Po's yin tide surged higher with each caress. Her yin rain flowed freely again. What had closed up in fear, now opened with joy. Even the belly of her tattooed tigress quivered with hunger. And still Kui Yu continued his rhythmic assault.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Then he stopped. Tightening his lips, he pulled himself—and her breast—higher and higher. Her body once again arched, her hands pushed down on the floor so that she might remain with him for a moment longer.

Then he moved away, and she fell backward with a crash. She landed hard on the floor. Her eyes were open now, and she searched for clues as to his next action. She found him grinning, the evening shadow unable to obscure the pearly whiteness of his teeth. Indeed, for a moment, she thought he appeared more beast than man, more dragon than husband.

Reaching out with his left hand, he casually kneaded her right breast.

"You liked that, didn't you, wife?" His voice was calm, almost bland, except for the low purr of satisfaction that trembled just beneath. On any other man, she would not have noticed, but this was her husband whom she had known since they were children. She recognized gloating satisfaction in him, even though he thought he hid it.

Oddly enough, she wasn't displeased. Let him have his joy. She was his wife, after all. He should enjoy their last time together. So she smiled, a lazy expression that startled him. "Yes, Kui Yu," she purred, "I do like that. Very much."

He watched her a moment and his hand stilled on her breast. "We have never talked this way before," he said slowly. "I have always done what I enjoyed and you allowed." Then he began to mold and shape her breast again, slowly narrowing his fingers to her nipple which he squeezed in short tiny pulses.

"Do you like this as well?"

His hand was large. She had forgotten how engulfed it could make her feel.

"I enjoy knowing the hard textures of you, Kui Yu," she said. She reached up and touched his face. "The rough scratch of your beard." She tightened her legs, drawing her calves up along the sides of his legs. "The coarse brush of the hair on your thighs." Then she reached out and pulled his other hand to her so that he held both her breasts. "And most especially, your hands."

He squeezed. He touched. He played. While she closed her eyes and savored the yin rise. She knew that what he did was against practice. He was too rough. His motions would eventually make her breasts loose and flabby. She didn't care. She liked his too-hard touch. Especially when he tweaked her nipples.

"Your skin is rough," she murmured aloud, speaking as much to herself as to him. "Thickened from hard labor."

He stilled. "I'm sorry—" But she shook her head.

"You don't understand." She drew his hand to her lips. She spread his fingers and gently kissed each ridge. "I have always loved your hands. It is the soft, perfumed hands of my brother that sicken me."

She could see that he was watching her, thinking hard about her words, so she set about proving them. She tongued his hand, exploring in short strokes the crevices between his fingers. Then she shifted to long lines down his palm before finally sucking his fingers one by one into her mouth.

She took a long time at this, releasing his one hand to raise his other to her mouth. He allowed her. But as she began her ministrations to his left hand, his right slid down her side. He paused only briefly at her breast before flowing down her belly, across the tigress face, and then between her legs to stroke the tigress's belly.

Once there, he followed her lead. When she dipped between his fingers, he slipped between her petals. When she licked long strokes across his palm, he pulled his thumb from her cave opening up to roll across her tigress pearl. And when she pulled his finger inside her mouth, he pushed himself deep inside her.

The small circle of yin established itself in her body, flowing from her breasts, through her womb, then up to her brain before returning to her breasts. She gloried in that wonderful current, which lifted her belly and heated her thoughts. With each stroke of his hand, the quivering deepened, became more intense and more holy.

She rolled her tongue across the side of his hand. Taking the meaty part between her teeth, she bit lightly. He growled low in his throat and spread her lotus petals wide, sliding his thumb and forefinger up to her pearl. Her jaw quivered, and she nibbled. So too did his fingers pinch and roll. Her yin flowed fast and hard, her internal bellows tightening in preparation.

But she had no larger circle, no yang river to complement and mix with her yin. She would not reach Heaven this way. She had to create the yang circle. She had to touch and stroke and bring her husband to fullness in order to create the dual rivers. So she pushed away his hand, struggling to sit up.

"No," she gasped. "The yang circle... It's not—"

"I know," answered her husband, his voice harsh enough to sound cruel. Then he pressed her back to the floor with his free hand. The other hand continued mercilessly. "There will be no yang circle tonight, wife." He held her down, while between her thighs he continued to pinch and roll and rub.

If she were alone, she would meditate her stored yang into a circling flow. Now there was no time. She had to end this. She knew that the yin river took a huge amount of energy. Too soon, and she would exhaust herself before she established the yang circle. Too late, and she would be frustrated with no power at all.

But he would not let her escape. The yin tide surged. It crested. It engulfed her. Too soon! Too soon!

He knew what he was doing: That was the last thought filtering through her mind as she began to ride the yin tigress. Her body clenched and writhed, her breath came in gasping bursts. And still Kui Yu continued, smiling at her while he held her frozen, his free arm pressed across her hips, his other hand alternating between thrusting deep into her womb before pulling all the way out to stroke a hardened thumb over and around her yin pearl.

It was wonderful. It was the yin tigress in her full, explosive ride. And it was also totally useless. Without the yang circle, Shi Po would not go to Heaven. So she sobbed at her husband, pleaded as best as she could for him to release her, to stop the torment.

He did not, and her heart trembled even as her mind and body exploded with ecstasy.

Then there was no thought, no practice, only the sweet enjoyment of pleasure, the deep breath of expansiveness, with no mind whatsoever.

What?

The yin tide receded. Shi Po's body began to still and her breath began to recover. But her mind was still trembling.

What had...?

Her legs rolled open as her muscles gave out. Her lungs steadied, though their pattern remained quick. And her tattooed tigress tilted upward as her back muscles finally gave way, dropping her body unceremoniously flat onto the floor.

What had he...?

Her breathing returned to normal; the yin tide receded to a pleasant warmth, but no more. Her eyes opened, and in the darkness, she saw little beyond Kui Yu's moonlit outline and his ivory-white smile.

At that moment, she realized something was different. Something vast and huge and fundamental had shifted in her. But she couldn't quite identify the shift, much less give it a name. What had her husband done?

* * *

 

July 9,1879

(Sent to the Tseng patriarch upon the return of Shi Po from her aunt's home, forty-nine days after her uncle's funeral.)

 

Dear honorable Mr. Tseng—

Please accept this humble gift, a pale reflection of the joy and double happiness that must fill your home at the return of your chaste and filial daughter.

With great respect,

Tan Kui Yu

 

(Attached was a scepter of Imperial jade, exquisitely carved in three oval segments: the first, a three-toed dragon; the last a phoenix, her sharp talons extended. Between them, on the center segment, danced a magical pearl trailing celestial ribbons of power.)

* * *

 

September 10,1879

(Sent to the Tseng patriarch upon the occasion of his son's departure for the Imperial examination.)

 

Great sir—

Please accept this most modest gift. It is but a small reflection of the benefits I have received from your most learned son, Lun Po. We studied together, and I have ever felt inspired by his intellect.

In humble gratitude,

Tan Kui Yu

(Attached was a rare copy of the Confucian Analects.)

* * *

January 24,1880

 

(Sent to the Tseng patriarch on the occasion of his fiftieth birthday.)

 

Double Happiness on the glorious anniversary of your birth.

The Heavens celebrate with birdsong. The Earth brings forth its beauty. And your children reflect your eminence.

 

(Attached was a Mandarin jacket made of red silk shot through with gold and silver threads. The style modern, the design elaborate, the fasteners made of carved ivory.)