Peach Blossom Pavilion (35 page)

Then he asked me to sing him a Peking opera aria.

"Mr. Teng, which one do you want to hear?"

"Miss Precious Orchid, I'd love anything from your lips, so please pick one you like."

"All right," I did not omit to cast him a flirtatious glance, "then I'll sing an excerpt from Jita."

Jita-Offering Sacrifice to the Tower, is one of the most challenging arias. First, I meditated, then let my eyes float-to Guan Yin on the altar table, to Plum Blossom fidgeting in midair, to the distant hills outside the window, until they finally alighted on Mr. Teng's soul windows.

A smile broke out on his face.

I tried to attain the best way of singing this piece, once de scribed as "cries as sharp as the goose soaring to heaven, echoes as low as the winter cicada clinging to the pine trees."

But alas, when singing the phrase "Our meeting again can only happen in a dream ..." suddenly Pearl's image flashed across my mind. Though I tried my best to hold them back, my tears splashed down my cheeks like spurting springs.

I was mortified. A courtesan should never reveal her true emotions in front of any customer! For a moment I felt so scared and humiliated that I had no idea what to do. But not Mr. Teng. He stood up from the sofa, then took out his pink handkerchief to dab my eyes. After that, he pulled me into his arms, very gently, as if I were an expensive piece of porcelain.

It felt so good. And I thought: I've fallen in love.

Now that I was feeling snug and warm, my tears burst out like water from a collapsed dam. We held each other's gaze for an eternity until my tears had dried. Then I said softly, feeling color rising in my cheeks, "Mr. Teng, you.. . want me to serve you now?"

To my complete disbelief, his brows knitted.

Then they quickly smoothed out, and he was now smiling handsomely. "Miss Precious Orchid, why don't we have something to eat first? I'm starving."

Although his hesitation lasted only a split second, it was long enough to break my heart.

He would rather taste food on a plate than taste my golden gate? I couldn't believe this! I was fucked by not being fucked! But then I thought, maybe he wanted to build up his qi so he could do a better job. Feeling more cheerful, I laid out the dishes prepared by Aunty Ah Ping on the eight immortals table, then poured two cups of wine. In the cozy atmosphere of my room we ate, drank, and chatted.

I was dying to find out who he was-a scholar, government official, businessman, or dandy. But whenever I tried to probe, he'd cleverly avoid my questions, steering the conversation back to art and literature.

"Miss Precious Orchid," he looked at me deeply, "you're very lucky to be born with such a good voice. And I know you practice very hard to achieve your skill. But do you mind if I comment on it so it can be still better?"

"Of course not, Mr. Teng." While I didn't mind having criticism from him, it also surprised me that he was the first customer who dared do it.

He went on, "When you change your breath, bring it all the way down to your dantian. Then start slow and build up. Remember yitui weijin-retreat in order to advance." He looked at me intently, his face flushed an attractive pink. "Do you agree with me, Miss Precious Orchid?"

I was so impressed that I opened my mouth but couldn't utter a word. A long pause ensued before I finally said, "Oh, Mr. Teng, you can be my teacher. How did you learn so much about Peking opera?"

"You're overpraising me, Miss Precious Orchid." He sipped his wine, then soundlessly put down the cup. "I'm just a fan."

Damn! His lips were as tightly sealed as Mama's safe.

Though I was disappointed by his reserve, his delicate evasions rendered him even more desirable.

We continued to chat. And I continued to pour him wine, serve him food, and throw him soul-sucking glances. Until I finally grew tired of all the intellectual discussions.

When he finally looked drunk and tired, I grabbed the chance and asked, "Mr. Teng, would you like to retire to bed now?"

"Miss Precious Orchid," he said, his eyes glazed with alcohol. "I'm afraid I want to go home now. I'm not feeling very well."

I was astonished to have my offer turned down a second time! What was wrong with this man? Pearl had once told me any man's eyes will bleed when he smells free sex, even if the woman is a buck-toothed and pockmarked old hag. Now this man had paid a lot for me, and I was considered, if not the most, at least one of the most beautiful courtesans in Shanghai. But he had no interest in exploring my cinnabar crevice with his jade stalk. Was it something wrong with him ... or with me?

Hiding my confusion, I lifted my lips to resemble a crescent moon. "Then, Mr. Teng, you'd better stay."

"I'll be fine; just call me a rickshaw."

"If that's what you wish."

He simply nodded, while casting me a passionate glance.

When I walked him to the door, Plum Blossom suddenly piped up, "Feels good, eh? Want more?"

Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, I looked down and stared at my feet. Pearl had once commented that they were big. Was this the reason Mr. Teng had lost his appetite for me?

After Teng left, I slumped down in a chair and sighed. If he found me undesirable, then why had he come back? Maybe he was shy, or maybe, as Mama had guessed, his gun was not loaded. I hoped not, he was such a nice-looking man! Maybe I should prepare the recipe Pearl had taught me, so next time when he came, I could not only enlarge his jade stalk but make it thrust as high as the Mountains of Heaven!

Though nothing had happened, I could not get Mr. Teng out of my thoughts. As a flower girl, the worst thing would be a customer thinking I was in love with someone else. So I was alarmed when my favored guest Big Master Fung noticed something was amiss.

On one occasion, after we finished stirring the clouds and rain, he asked, "Xiang Xiang, what's the matter with you? Your mind seems to be somewhere else."

Since I couldn't afford to offend him, I apologized, then lifted the corners of my lips all the way to my ears. "Oh no, Big Master Fung! How can my mind be somewhere else when you're right in front of me?"

Several days later, Mama told me Mr. Teng would be coming that evening. Instead of preparing the recipe for enlarging his jade stalk, I copied some verses by the famous Tang dynasty poet Wang Wei. I lit incense, meditated, then poured all my passion into the cursive calligraphy:

The red bean grows in the South When Spring comes, how many new buds will bloom? I wish for you to collect them till your hands are full Because these beans are grown for love.

I remembered that whenever Baba had left home to perform with his opera troupe, he'd always carry a small pouch filled with these beans, which were only slightly bigger and rounder than grains of rice. When I'd asked him why he carried them around, he said, "So that I can look at them and think of your mother." He explained that these red beans are xiangsi dou-beans of mutual longing. Xiangsi also means-missing you. That's why red beans have become lovers' favorite gifts.

Mr. Teng arrived punctually at seven-thirty in the evening. As soon as we'd settled on the sofa in my room, I handed him the poem. For a long time he looked at it without speaking. Then he began to recite another poem in his clear, almost boyish voice:

Listening to him, I felt both happy and sad. I knew he was using the famous Tang dynasty poet Liu Yuxi's poem to tell me that although I might think he felt no love for me, it was not true. When the sky darkens and the man's passion cannot be felt, the woman's heart is sad. However, the sun finally shines through the dark clouds, bringing her hope.

But now my heart felt like it was gnawed by hundreds of ants. What exactly did Mr. Teng mean to tell me through this poem? I wish he could have spoken his feelings more directly, instead of heading for the east while pointing toward the west.

Maybe it was time for me to take the initiative to clear up my muddled emotions. I shifted close to him, took his hand in mine, and started kissing it. He sighed with pleasure. Encouraged, I moved my lips up to his. Instantly his tongue slithered into my mouth like a snake returning to its hole. Our two snakes wrestled and caressed, entangled and released, attacked and retreated. My hands moved here and there to peel off my clothes until I wore only my stomach cover. While Mr. Teng's mouth was busy kissing mine, his hands, soft and tender like silk, rolled all over my body.

After we'd been kissing for several incarnations, I suddenly realized he was still fully clothed. How did he think his jade stalk could stir my clouds with all these encumbrances? I reached to unbutton his shirt, but to my surprise, he immediately caught my hand.

Teng said, his voice intoxicated with tenderness, "Miss Precious Orchid, you go to bed first and turn around; I'll join you."

It seemed a strange suggestion, but as I was being paid, I did what I was asked.

Under the silk bed cover, I slipped off even my stomach cover. Feeling sexy, exultant, but anxious, I heard Teng blow out the light, then the sound of clothes falling onto the floor, and finally, the sensuous padding of bare feet toward me ...

My eyes closed and my heart fluttering like the wings of a newly hatched chick, I waited for him to fill my whole being with passion and love. Abruptly he slipped under the cover. He embraced me gently, his body against my bare back and bottom. I sighed with desire. But then my desire was quickly smothered by a strange sensation. When he pressed harder against me, I felt something soft and yielding. Suddenly a thought exploded inside my head-this man had breasts!

I flipped around and snatched off the cover.

But he pulled it right back.

I screamed. "So, are you Mr. Teng or Miss Teng?! "

He lifted a finger to his mouth. "Shhhh ... Miss Precious Orchid, please don't act so shocked," then he whispered next to my ear, "anyway, what's the difference, since I love you?" After that, he sealed my lips with his-or hers.

Perhaps Teng Xiong was right; what would be the difference? After all, I was paid to do whatever pleased my customers. Enlightened to the truth, I felt a sad relief wash over me, extinguishing my body's last speck of fire. Then my hands, remembering their obligation, started to apply the erotic art of pleasing, until my customer moaned, squirmed, succumbed, and finally collapsed ...

It took me a long time to overcome the shock caused by Teng Xiong. The blow was not so much due to the fact that she was a woman, but the dashing of my hope that Teng was to be my true love who would marry me and take me away from prostitution. Of course, I had not been so naive that I hadn't heard that some women preferred to love other women. Pearl had told me about Hong Nainai, a ming ji who, after being jilted by her lover, had limited her attentions to women. She had attracted many customers as a "mirror-rubbing girl." For centuries, Chinese had used bronze mirrors. Because bronze would easily get dull, people specializing in polishing them would tramp along streets and alleys, calling out, "Mirror rubbing! Mirror rubbing!" Their tool was simple: a thick "mother" mirror and oil for lubrication. When you gave them your mirror, they would spurt oil on the "mother" mirror, then rub your mirror against it until it shone.

Pearl had smiled meaningfully. "So, when two women are having sex, since they don't have jade stalks, they can only rub their yin parts against each other like two flat mirrors."

She went on, "This Hong Nainai became very popular by being a lesbian sister. For she knew how to play at being a `man' while possessing all the advantages of a woman. So she was called `halfmonth man, half-month woman.' " Pearl winked. "She was reputed to be extremely skillful in `spreading the slippery noodles.' "

Clearly Teng Xiong was another Hong Nainai, only she paid rather than getting paid.

Now that her secret had been revealed, Teng visited me more frequently. Each time we stirred each other's clouds-since it was impossible for her to shower any rain. Although she didn't have a jade stalk, like the legendary Hong Nainai she was very skillful in rubbing my mirror. I got only a little pleasure out of this, but I still would rather have her rub my mirror than have those chou nanren thrust their filthy stalks into my precious gate. However, I was attracted to her as a person-handsome, elegant, unconventional. Whenever we finished making love and I was about to put on clothes, she would gently take them from me, place them at the foot of the bed and, without any clothes on herself, draw me into her arms and hold me till we fell asleep together.