Chapter 8

 

"So I am once again in the presence of the whore of Shanghai."

Shi Po kept her head down, her hands neatly folded as she stood before General Kang. She understood what the man wanted. He was the kind of man who liked a slightly disobedient wife—one with a flash of spirit that he would systematically crush. His daughters would be silent, terrified little things. His sons would by necessity excel either in mimicry, becoming ten times worse their father; or, if they were very strong, they would completely reject their early training to become the exact opposite. General Kang's wife was to be congratulated for rearing the Buddhist monk Kang Zou Tun. A month ago, Shi Po had wondered what the young man was running from. Now she knew.

And knowing, she lifted her head to gaze directly into General Kang's eyes. After all, he would only be happy if she showed enough spirit for him to crush. She smiled as she spoke. "If I am a whore, then what are you, twice barging into my home, twice demanding my presence? You are insatiable, and you have already been refused."

As expected, he did not pull back at her insult, but let his expression widen into a smirk. "Your husband has given you to me. For punishment."

She flinched, knowing that was what he wanted. But the reaction was not entirely faked. Kui Yu would not give her over; she knew that. But that wouldn't stop this man from punishing her anyway.

She smiled wanly. "Men's games are beyond one as simple as I," she said. "Let my husband say so to my face, and I will do as he bids."

General Kang did not answer. He walked around her, and she stood statue still. When he was behind her, he leaned in close, sniffing loudly. "Perfume. And sex. You smell like a nail-shack whore." He reached around to paw her breasts.

She broke off his groping with a quick jerk of her shoulder. He drew back and raised his arm to strike her, but she spoke quickly, praying he wasn't the beast he appeared. "Would you piss in a Ming vase?" she asked.

"You are no great work of art," he sneered.

She shrugged. "I am only the granddaughter of Viceroy Tseng, and the humble wife of Tan Kui Yu." She raised her eyes to match his gaze. "Now, what do you wish of me?"

His arm slowly lowered and he stared at her. "Your family is nothing compared to mine. The Qin rule now. And I am a Manchurian."

"Of course, your eminence," she said with a slight bow. "How may I serve my country?"

He moved in front of her, his eyes hard. He accused, "A monk came to your home. You imprisoned him there with a ghost woman." The venom in his voice intensified as he leaned forward. "I could kill you for that."

If he meant to scare her more, he failed. He could kill her now for whatever reason he chose. She had long since accepted that situation. So she bowed her head with calm acquiescence. "Whatever you say, your honor."

Gripping her chin, he hauled her face upward. "Shall we rut here on the floor like dogs? Shall I give you to my men to use as they want? Or should I give you to the ghost people and laugh as they perform evil magic on you? Is your magic stronger than theirs, I wonder?"

Fear trembled through her frame, but she said nothing. She did not trust her voice.

He threw her from him, then watched with grim amusement as she stumbled on her bound feet. Tripping over the chair, she fell gracelessly to the floor. Her head banged against the wall, and though she tried, she could not slide farther away. The room was too small.

"What do you want of me?" she rasped again.

"Where is my son?"

She shook her head. "I do not know."

"He was with you! You imprisoned him! Where did he go?" the General roared.

She shook her head. "I do not know."

The General stomped forward, his boots barely missing her hands. "Where is he?"

"I don't know!"

He grabbed her by the collar of her blouse, using it to lift her off the floor. "A monk came to your house!" he repeated.

Disgusted, Shi Po twisted away from his foul yang breath. "I do not ask who anyone is," she lied.

"You imprisoned him with a ghost bitch," he screamed.

"They choose their own partners!" she returned.

With one swift move, the General ripped the neck of her blouse. It split easily, baring her breasts to his gaze. He let her fall heavily to the floor, though his eyes never left her chest. "Lie to me again," he softly dared her.

She refused to cover herself, though the urge burned inside her. Let him see what he could not have except by force—that was the way to deal with men like this.

"What did my son say to you?"

She swallowed. "A man came to the house seeking refuge. That is all. He brought an injured woman. I gave them a place to rest. Herbs for healing. Then they left."

"When?"

"Two days ago," she lied.

He cursed and stomped his boot like a distempered horse. "What do you know of your husband's business?" he snapped.

She blinked, startled by the sudden change in topic. "I am a simple woman. What would I know of men's work?"

"Whore!" he bellowed; then he buried his hands in the band of her skirt. This too, he tore apart, so she was completely bared to him. His eyes fixed on her tigress tattoo, while his body slowly turned red with rising yang fire.

"Lie to me again," he whispered, stepping between her legs and kicking them wide.

She blinked back her tears. She would give him no yin, not even the little that saturated her sorrow. "I know nothing of where your son is," she repeated in absolute truth.

The General dropped to his knees between her legs. She tried to scoot backwards, but was blocked by the wall. She could do nothing but lie there and dread what was to come.

He put his hands on her thighs and dragged her fully open. "Lie to me again," he whispered. "What business does your husband have with the whites?"

Fear thickened the air in her lungs. How exactly did her husband make so much money? As far as she knew, Kui Yu's business was to take the barbarians' money in exchange for cheap fabric. He sold clothing and built houses. But was that all? The possibilities were endless and ugly. Would he betray China to the whites? In exchange for what? Medicines for their children? Or something worse?

General Kang was watching her closely. She had no idea what he saw on her face, but apparently it disgusted him. Curling his lips, he roughly shoved away from her.

"Your smell nauseates me." Then he stomped out the door.

* * *

Shi Po's feet were unsteady, her balance precarious as she tried to both walk down the dark corridor and clutch her skirt closed. The guards who escorted her knew, of course. They could see the state she was in, and their comments would have made another woman blush. But Shi Po's aunt ran a brothel. There was nothing they could say that would upset her further.

What they succeeded in, on the other hand, was making her skin crawl and her stomach heave. They touched her. Not overtly; they clearly thought she was reserved for General Kang, so they didn't grab her harshly. They certainly didn't leave bruises that their commander would see.

No, they were subtler than that. A grip here, a poke there, all punctuated by crude comments. She could do nothing to defend herself. She wanted to release her clothing. She wanted to stand tall on her unsteady feet and let the damned soldiers look their fill. Let them see what they couldn't have.

Except, they could have it. And they very well might before this ordeal was over. She wasn't strong enough to face that right now. She was afraid. And tired. And she wished she had listened to her aunt and run far, far away.

But she hadn't.

She swallowed, fighting the tears. Where was Kui Yu? What had happened to him? Was he even still alive?

The guards stopped before a dark room. She recognized it as the place she had sat before. The tiny cell had bars at the door and likely peepholes along the side. She didn't care. So long as these men stayed on the other side and left her alone, they could look all they wanted. How she could want to be inside, she didn't know, but she would do almost anything to escape these soldiers. Even return to that dark, lonely cell.

Two guards were with her. Another five stood in a room a few steps away. While one unlocked her cell, the other held her, his hand sliding up and down her arm and his long extended fingers brushing her breast. She tried to pull away, but to do so would back her into his body, and she had no wish to touch more of him. So she closed her eyes and held back her nausea with an act of will. Her Tigress calm was nowhere to be found.

With her eyes closed, she focused on the sounds: the clatter of the keys and the groan of the door hinges. Soon she would be inside. Alone. Soon...

There came a sudden surprised grunt. Thuds and a bellow. Shi Po's eyes sprang open, but she could not make sense of the shifting shadows in the dark corridor. The only light came from lanterns hung in the guardroom many feet away.

Fighting. The men were fighting. She saw a flash of pale, golden skin. She watched it impact with studded leather armor and win. Bare feet. A naked upper body. Against two soldiers in armor?

Kui Yu! It had to be him. Who else would be so fierce and silent?

The man who held her bellowed to his fellows before he was ripped away from her. She stumbled and pressed herself against the damp wall. She could not help her husband if she fell down right in the middle of things, so she clung to the wall and searched for their best escape route.

She saw nothing but more soldiers rushing from the guardroom. She teetered forward into their path. Anything to delay them. But such a ruse was useless. She had no purchase on her bound feet; she weighed next to nothing compared with their bulk. She was slammed against the wall hard enough that her head bounced on the stone. She whimpered in pain.

"Shi Po!"

She focused on Kui Yu's bellow, finally separating form from shadow enough to understand. Two soldiers lay on the ground behind him. His face was matted with grime, but his fists were large, his shoulders broad as he met the newest attackers.

He fought like a demon. No, he fought like a street boy, all fists and kicks and raining fury. He was too fast for her to see, but she heard. Grunts. Growls. Bestial sounds of men at war. The smack of fist against flesh. The thud of body against leather.

The ring of many swords being unsheathed.

She screamed. Kui Yu was unarmed, and he would die here. Seven against one? He had no chance. "No," she sobbed. "Stop. Please, stop!"

They did. But not because of her. They stilled because they won. Because Kui Yu was on his knees, one sword at his neck, others pricking his side and back. Even in the dim light, she could see blood dripping from his face and sides.

"Stop," she whispered. Tears obscured her vision.

"Are you all right?" rasped Kui Yu. Then he grunted as one of the soldiers kicked him in the side. He fell over with a moan, and Shi Po lurched forward, falling to her knees before her husband. Her skirt widened, fluttering around her, but she curled herself around Kui Yu, twisting to glare at their captors.

She said nothing. No words came to her mind. But she reached up to push a sword point aside. The soldier let her do it, though he laughed at her stupidity. She could only push one sword away at a time, and though they allowed her to move whichever she touched, their weapons returned a bare second later. They returned and cut tiny nicks into her husband's body no matter what she did to stop them.

In the end, she saw it was futile, so she looked to her husband. He was holding her clothing closed for her and his eyes burned with a fury she had never seen.

"We'll go inside the cell now," she said to the guards. To Kui Yu: "We'll go," she repeated, but she couldn't move her husband as long as the blades prevented it. So she waited, her chest tight, her every breath shallow with fear.

Then Kui Yu spoke in hard, cold warning. "She is General Kang's woman. He'll kill anyone who touches her."

Shi Po's breath thickened in her throat. Was it true? Had he given her over to General Kang? It was possible. Life was everything to Kui Yu. He would indeed hand her over to the general rather than watch her hang. She wiped away her tears at those words, struggling to regain some composure. Meanwhile, one of the soldiers nodded, and another pushed the door to the cell wide. Then the swords lifted, but not very high.

They were forced to crawl into the cell. Shi Po kept her one arm around her husband. She could feel the bunching and release of his muscles. She knew the tension he restrained. He still wanted to fight, so she tightened her hold on him. He had no protection except her body; the soldiers had weapons and armor. She would not let him do anything so foolish.

Apparently, he understood, because his head dipped on a low growl. Together they crawled across the threshold into their cell.

Kui Yu was on his feet the moment the last sword left his leg. He jumped up with a speed that surprised Shi Po almost as much as it startled the guards. They jumped back and slammed the door as hard as they could. Seconds later, she heard the jingling of the keys as the cell was locked tight. Kui Yu was at the door, his hands wrapped around the bars, but he said nothing. He merely watched the soldiers retreat, his body tensed, his breath harsh and short.

He pushed once on the door, a furious shove that achieved nothing except expending his yang fire. And then, to her surprise, he moved quickly to her side. She had not shifted from the floor. She had dropped to her bottom as he sprang up, and she had remained there, her thoughts heavy, her body too weary to do more than wrap her arms around herself.

She watched him approach, and surprised herself by flinching when he touched her shoulder.

"Shi Po?" he asked in a whisper. "Shi Po, where are you hurt?"

She shook her head, stunned that she had no voice. In her mind, she spoke clearly to him. She reassured him that she was unharmed, while she assessed his wounds. She knew he had been hurt in the fight. She ought to be cleaning his cuts, seeing to his pain. But she simply sat.

"Why did you give me to him?" she whispered.

He glanced over his shoulder to the door, and then along the wall. He was trying to tell her something, but her mind was too fogged to understand.

"I had to. He wants you. He might even marry you." He spoke loudly, but as he did, he reached out and stroked a character on the back of her hand.

She knew it was a word, but she couldn't decipher it. The lines were too hurried.

"Stand up, Shi Po. Come sit on the bed."

He reached around, drawing her upright. She shrank away from him, not wanting anyone's touch, but he was insistent. He guided her to sit on the dirty straw pallet. Then he shook out their single, thin blanket and sat beside her. When he put the covering on her shoulders, his arms remained—he held her despite the way she shrank from him.

"He cares for you," Kui Yu continued. "He knows of you, of your skills. He wants you for his own." He reached forward and gently brushed aside the remains of her skirt to touch her bare thigh. "He will pay well for you," he said.

But on her thigh, he wrote one character: Lies.

He wrote it over and over as he expounded on a pretend reason for their capture.

"He's arrested us to intimidate me. To make me sell you to him."

Lies, he wrote again and again.

"I have agreed, but we must settle upon a price."

Lies.

"You must keep yourself pretty. You are very important to him."

Lies.

She grabbed his hand, stilling his frantic writing. He looked at her firmly, sliding his gaze to the door. His message was clear: The soldiers were to listen to what was said. Why else would this cell be so close to the guardroom?

She nodded in understanding. "I'm so tired," she said out loud.

Hurt? he wrote on her leg.

She shook her head, but could see that he didn't believe her. So she reached out and touched his jaw. He flinched when she found a bloody cut.

He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his lips. "I'm fine," he whispered.

She didn't believe him, either. Abruptly her fears overwhelmed her, and she shuddered. He tightened his hold and pressed his forehead to hers, his lips against her cheek.

What do we do? She wrote quickly on his chest.

He shook his head, and she struggled to hold back tears.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. She stroked the word repeatedly on his chest. This was all her fault. She had thought her aunt imagined spies in every corner. She had thought General Kang would not seize them out of spite. She had thought she could ascend to Heaven, and that with her death, any threat to Kui Yu would disappear.

But she had been wrong, and now everything was lost. Her children would be orphaned, her students abandoned. All she had ever done would be wiped away; everything Kui Yu had accomplished would be destroyed.

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

He gripped her hand to stop her furious strokes. Leaning back against the wall, he tucked her tightly to him. She went easily; she had no strength to fight him. And as she settled against him, he turned her hand over and wrote an answer in her palm.

Hope. Message. Brother. Hope.

She sighed. If he had sent a message to Lun Po, they were well and truly doomed. She stroked her answer onto his chest.

My brother. Idiot.

Kui Yu chuckled, tightening his hold on her. He returned his fingers to her arm, stroking this time on the inside of her wrist: Hope, he repeated. Then: Sleep.

Shi Po raised her eyes, making sure her disbelief was clear. Her husband simply shrugged and tucked her close again, even as he continued to write his message on her skin:

Hope.

They slept.

* * *

Shi Po laughed. The sound bubbled out of her, slipped free of her lips, and flew high above her into a beautiful blue sky. She was seven years old again, her hair in pigtails that flopped about her shoulders whenever she turned. She hated them because her brothers would always grab them and hold her still with a single fist. Her aunt also delighted in such tricks.

But not today. Today, her relatives reached for her but she was too fast. She could run. Like a bird, like the wind—she was that fast and that happy.

She felt each heavy thump as her heel hit dirt, each impact quickly lost as she pushed forward. Her toes spread, and her foot pressed into the ground. Shi Po loved the way the dust burst up around it. She giggled at the feel.

Where was she going? she wondered. Where would a child run to with such gleeful abandon, especially when her family waited behind, their hands stretched out to grab her? She didn't know, but then again, she truly didn't care. She knew this was a dream, and saw her conscious mind as yet another hand stretching to hold her back.

Where are you going, little dream girl? she asked herself. Then she laughed as she shook her pigtails and pushed herself to greater speeds.

Then she saw it: her destination stretching far off in the distance. First she saw the black carpet of glittering lights. Her toes tingled as she ran through. She pushed down on the black fabric and felt the stars sway and hop as they squished through her toes. So beautiful. And so far behind her now, for she ran faster. The gateway was ahead. Heaven. Blindingly bright and just out of reach. But she was nearly there.

The gate was barred! She could see that from here, but it didn't bother her. She was fast enough now to leap over it. One mighty jump, and she would vault inside. It was coming now. It was time.

She bent her knees, scrunching her tiny body as small as it would go. Then, one last deep breath and she exploded upward. She thrust with her spine, pushed with her knees, vaulted with her ankles, and then the final touch: She rolled through her arches to push with her toes.

She could do that in her dream. Because here, her feet were large and healthy and so very, very strong.

Except, they weren't. Or she wasn't. Because she stopped. She grabbed the gate, high up, just before the top but not quite there. She hung there like a fly stuck to honey strips. Her arms trembled. She would not be able to hold on much longer, much less climb. But she would try. She would haul and grab and bite, anything to gain another inch and reach the top.

She knew she wouldn't make it. She realized she'd had this dream many times. And yet, each time, she tried again. Every dream, she struggled with all her will to go a little farther, to at last reach that glorious other side. Heaven, even a dream Heaven, was worth any sacrifice.

But always her struggles toppled her backward. No matter how careful she was, no matter how she clung to the wall with fingers and toes, the urge to climb higher always ended with her tumbling backward into the dirt.

This time, she did something different. This time, she looked through the bars and into Heaven. Always before she had looked up and focused on her goal: the very top. This time, she looked through the bars to see what was on the other side.

Not just a bright, beautiful light. That's what Heaven had always been in her dreams: beautiful, bright, and very, very indistinct. But this time she saw a person. Two people. They were vague and indistinct, but grew clearer with every moment.

She shifted her energies. She stopped struggling for the top of the gate, but instead clung to the barrier while trying to sort form and meaning from what she saw.

Two people. She knew them. Kui Yu. And the Goddess Kwan Yin, the female angel of hope.

"Kui Yu!" she screamed. "Kui Yu!"

He heard her. Both husband and goddess turned to see her, flattened like an insect against the gate. She saw Kui Yu's eyes narrow as he made out her distant shape. Then she saw him grin, his eyes lighting with delight.

She laughed, thrilled that he had seen her. He would help her.

He waved. She didn't dare wave back; she would fall off the wall. She watched his face fall. He continued to wave, but with more desperation, more determination.

"Kui Yu!" she called. "Kui Yu!"

But he was growing disappointed with her lack of response. His arm lowered, his face grew grim.

"I can't wave!" she screamed. "I'll fall!"

He didn't understand. In the end, he shrugged and turned away from her, his attention once more on the goddess.

"Kui Yu!" she bellowed, but he was gone. He'd walked deeper into Heaven with the goddess, leaving her alone on the wall. So she risked it. She chanced it even though she knew what would happen.

She released one hand and pulled herself tight against the bars. Then she waved and waved and waved. "Kui Yu! Look now! Kui Yu!"

He didn't come back for her, and she tumbled off the wall. She landed with jarring force on her feet, which broke, crushed beneath her weight. And soon her entire body collapsed into the cloying stench of muddy earth.

She tried to get out. She pushed with her broken feet, but only slipped and fell deeper in. She pulled with her slender feminine arms, but her hands had nothing to grasp and she sank further. She fought and gasped and pulled and struggled, but every effort pushed her deeper in, further encased in mud, buried well above her head.

And then everything collapsed down upon her.

She woke with a scream.

Arms tightened around Shi Po, holding her down. She screamed again, but this time with fury. Somewhere in her mind she knew it was Kui Yu holding her. Her husband restrained her. But that only made her fight harder.

Gathering all her strength, she shoved, throwing herself away from him. She tumbled to the floor. A rat squealed as it fled.

"Shi Po!" her husband called. "It's a dream."

She shook her head. Her body trembled, her breath coming in harsh gasps.

"It's a dream," he repeated. "You're safe."

She laughed. Safe? Here in a stinking cell at the mercy of a spiteful general? Or safe here on Earth where she was so encased that she curled into herself, barely daring to breathe for fear of what she would inhale?

She stared about her. She was out of control, her mind spinning in hysterics. And yet, she couldn't stop the horror. She knew that whatever she did, however she struggled, she would fail. No one would help her, not even Kui Yu. He might try. He might even see her and reach out for her. But in the end, he would turn away because he didn't understand.

Shi Po burst into tears.

* * *

July 9,1880

 

Kui Yu—

My father will not change his mind, and will beat me if I bring up the topic again. My gravest apologies, old friend, but there is nothing I can do. But in the name of our long friendship, I beg you to help me with the examination essay. I have received the topic question, but I cannot form the words.

I have saved some money. I could pay you for your time.

In great fear,

Lun Po

* * *

July 12,1880

 

Lun Po—

I have no need of your money. My English boss gives me more gold than I have time to spend. Unless, of course, I had a woman on whom to shower my wealth. A wife of noble ancestry. A woman to father my children and bring light to my dreary life. My joy would be such that, of course I would be happy to share my time and skills with you. I would offer any assistance I could as you prepare for your examination.

Anxiously,

Kui Yu