Peach Blossom Pavilion (28 page)

"But if it's printed in the newspaper, everybody will think it's the truth."

"But all your customers know it's not!"

"Then why have I lost?"

Yes, why had Pearl lost? Bewildered, I asked, my voice a mere whisper, "Then what are we going to do now?"

"Nothing! Xiang Xiang, that's the point, nothing. I'm doomed! "

"But Sister Pearl, you told me that in the turquoise pavilion there's always a solution to any problem. You promised me that! " I started to yell.

To my surprise, Pearl's expression turned calm. "Yes," she sighed. "But this happened outside Peach Blossom, not inside. So nothing can be done." She paused for a brief moment. "That's why Mama and De don't even come to me."

It was then that I realized no one was here except me and Aunty Ah Ping. "Why didn't they?"

"Why?" Pearl sneered. "Because they're now celebrating with Red jade in her room! Nobody here will waste sympathy on a loser."

"But you're not a loser, Sister Pearl, you're still the most prestigious courtesan in Shanghai! " I was screaming again.

The tears had left lines on Pearl's cheeks like prison bars. "Yes. But only until yesterday. From today on I'm just a tarnished prostitute ... no more business ... I'll be ruined."

"Oh no, sister Pearl, it's not true. You still have many customers."

She sneered. "Those dog-fucked assholes? You think you can trust any of them? They'll dump me once they see my name on the weeds list! You can fool yourself, Xiang Xiang, but don't try to fool me. I'm too old for that."

"But why will they dump you? It doesn't matter about the newspapers, the fact is you're still the most beautiful and talented sister here."

"Maybe I was. But if you were a rich and powerful man, would you go to someone with cracked eyes, chimney nose, bloody mouth, flapping ears-who stinks? They only care about keeping face!"

"But can't your old customers also publish something nice about you in the Flower Moon News?"

"But, of course, Mr. Zhu was bribed. Do you think he'll publish poems complimenting me? You think he wants his wife to wake up one morning and find his corpse lying in a pool of blood in a back alley?"

A long silence. Finally I asked, "Sister Pearl, who do you think did this to you?"

Pearl spat. "That lightning-struck bitch!"

"You mean Red Jade?"

"Who else? Of course it's not just her, but some powerful customers of hers. No one will dare offend whoever is behind all this."

"I wonder what magic scheme the big-papaya witch uses to manipulate all these men." She smacked her thigh, startling me. "I'll kill her!"

Just then Aunty Ah Ping came back with a big wooden bucket of hot water. She laid the bucket on the floor, took out a towel, and started to bathe Pearl's swollen face.

Three days later I discovered what had happened. Red Jade's now favorite guest and best customer was the Police Chief Chethe one who'd tried to shoot Spring Moon. It was Che who bought up all the votes for Red Jade.

Spring Moon had told me all this when I had run into her in the corridor.

"But I thought Police Chief Che liked Pearl!"

"He did. But Red jade convinced Chief Che that Pearl had humiliated him during the elegant gathering ... the one when he shot me.

"But that happened five years ago!"

Spring Moon made a face. "Haven't you heard the phrase `ten years is not too late for a gentleman to revenge'?"

"But Pearl didn't humiliate Chief Che. And he was drunk."

"That's what you think. Lucky for me, I wasn't killed. But Red Jade told Chief Che that everyone had seen him let a woman tell him what to do, not only a woman, but a whore. Red Jade also told him that people still address him as Chief Che, but behind his back they call him Chief Chicken." Spring Moon lowered her voice. "A man like Che won't hesitate to destroy anyone who doesn't give him face."

"But Pearl did." I protested. "I still remember she said to the Chief that we need him to take good care of our society by protecting us from wrongs. And also, that she'd never say no to him because of her respect for righteousness."

"Yes. But that's exactly what Red jade used to accuse Pearl. She told Che that Pearl made him look like a fool, for she was cooing at him and telling him what to do. Worse, Pearl also touched his face in public."

A Chinese saying flashed across my mind: If you are out to condemn somebody, you can always trump up a charge.

"But doesn't the Chief realize that it's Red Jade who is manipulating him?"

"His vision is now completely blocked by her two towering peaks. He imagines that whatever troubles he has, they'll be dissolved in that deep valley between her mountains."

I sighed, suddenly realizing some truth to the saying: Men rule the world, and women rule men. But unfortunately it was not Pearl but another woman who was the ruler!

Spring Moon leaned toward me and lowered her voice. "Now Chief Che is Red jade's favorite guest." She paused to look around. "I've heard that Red Jade also knows spells to bewitch men. She gets the man's picture, writes his birthday on it, and sticks seven needles into it. Then she keeps the picture pinned on the wall above her bed and calls his name every day. At night, if he falls asleep in her bed, she'll burn paper money, then fumigate his socks and shoes with the smoke. That's why the Chief is completely bewitched by her."

Of course, I knew about these forbidden practices, but Pearl and I had never used them, for Pearl told me these were only exercised by old, ugly whores with no other ways to attract customers.

Spring Moon went on excitedly, "I heard something else, too. Pearl's going to be dumped by her favorite guest Mr. Chan next year, because she'll turn twenty-four. He says she'll make him feel old, not to mention that twenty four-er si-is bad luck because it rhymes with `easy to die.' "

I felt so upset for Pearl that I couldn't utter a word. Long moments passed before I asked, "Spring Moon, how did you know about all this?"

"Little Red told me. She'd heard Mama and De talk while she was serving them."

For a week after the contest results were printed in the newspapers, Pearl, though devastated, still tried to lead a normal existence. However, as she'd sadly predicted, her business did decline as drastically as if she'd suddenly turned into a leper. Now Pearl usually shut herself up in her room, but sometimes would invite me in to sing while she played the qin. "Lament Behind the Long Gate" was now her favorite piece. Although I'd always found the lyrics beautiful, now they sounded so sad that I could hardly bear to breathe life into them. I feared they would plunge Pearl into further depression. But she persisted and I could not deny her request.

While singing, I peeked at Pearl. Her hair was unkempt and her face was pale and sunken. Her figure, instead of being outlined by an elegantly tailored gown, was now hidden under a black top and pants. Maybe she'd given up trying to be attractive, unaware that she now possessed a decadent beauty that struck me as even more appealing. But I was a woman. What Pearl now needed was a man-who loved her and whom she loved-to comfort her. Where was Jiang Mou? I didn't want to ask.

I sang the refrains again as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Except for the subdued sounds of the qin and my voice, Pearl's chamber was now silent while bright light and boisterous noise streamed from Red Jade's. My heart was breaking as I looked at Pearl's empty incense burner and the dust starting to accumulate on her pillows and dressing table ...

Pearl had fallen to earth after having soared to the highest clouds.

Now I was the one who sang the lyrics while she was the one who cried.

"Xiang Xiang." She looked up at me and said softly, "Promise me that if anything happens to me, you'll take good care of the qin.

Months passed and my worry about Pearl grew each day. She now barely touched her food. Ah Ping prepared her special soup, but she would just wave the mute woman away. Pearl's face became drawn and she even lost her enthusiasm for talking. She would gesture or move her eyes to signal what she needed. The ming ji who had once excelled in the stratagems of face and body now had no one left to please by these arts.

Worse, Pearl's opium pipe was now her most faithful companion. Whenever I approached her room, the acrid smell of the burning narcotic would tear at my nostrils. Inside, her languorous figure would be seen crouching on her bed like a crumpled statue, her lips sucking like a hungry baby's. Staring at the elaborate Bodhisattva bed made my heart sink, for now Pearl, instead of looking like the beautiful Guan Yin, had become a fallen goddess. Beside her sat her maid, patiently rolling and patting pellets of opium, then dropping them into an iron pot boiling over a charcoal stove.

It was Pearl who had warned me-after my nipples had been pierced and she'd soothed me with the narcotic-not to become addicted. But now whenever I implored her to quit, she'd just stare at me emptily with her once luminous now turned dead-fish eyes.

I tried my best to comfort her, with small gestures like putting strands of her hair in place, wiping tear streaks from her cheeks, smoothing the wrinkles from her clothes. I just wanted to let her know that she was not alone in her grief. However, her look was so distant and her spirit so far away that I could no longer fathom her real self behind the haze of smoke.

Then, two weeks later, her inconsolable grief came to an end.

One afternoon, Pearl had asked me to accompany her to the balcony. "Xiang Xiang, the calendar says today is li chunjie-Es- tablishing Spring. I think it'll be nice to appreciate spring scenes from our balcony here. Don't you think?"

"Yes, what a wonderful idea." I was so pleased by this sign of happiness in her that I would have agreed to anything.

The distant mountains seemed completely oblivious to what had happened inside Peach Blossom. Yet, locked in by patches of mist, they had their own kind of melancholy. Among the swelling peaks rose a white tower, its upturned eaves seeming to beckon to us while asking, "Lonely beauties, where will you find your love?"

Pearl, her face bare of makeup and her body hidden beneath a loose white robe, rested her elbow on the balustrade. Her eyes, in stead of practicing flirtatious glances, fixed on the shifting mist. She looked like a fairy who had just descended from the heavenly palace to this turquoise pavilion. What was she thinking? I was tempted to ask, but decided to let her be.