Peach Blossom Pavilion (38 page)

"Precious Orchid?" Teng Xiong asked, her voice tender and eyes full of concern, just like my parents.

I shook my head, then swallowed the bamboo.

Teng Xiong came over and pulled me into her arms.

This time when she pressed her lips onto mine, I responded by slipping my tongue into her mouth. I was not sure whether I felt love, but I did feel gratitude.

Moments later, the young monk reappeared. Seeing that we had finished eating, he silently beckoned us to follow him. Once we were outside, he led us along a path to a low building beside the temple. Teng swung the door open, and we saw that our modest luggage had already been placed in the unadorned room. As soon as the young monk had left and we had sat down, I felt a wave of anxiety about my mother and whether I would ever find her. To soothe my worries, I took my qin from its brocade cover and started to tune it. Teng Xiong remained silent, her eyes resting contentedly on me.

I finished tuning and began to play "Parasol Leaves Dancing in the Autumn Wind." The middle finger of my left hand rested on the edge of the soundboard while I half-closed my eyes to meditate. After that, my right hand began to pluck while the fingers of my left hand touched the silk strings as lightly as petals floating on a brook. The small, bare room instantly filled with the bittersweet murmurs of the qin. Soothed by the quiet sounds of my instrument, I didn't think too much about being happy or unhappy; I simply felt glad that I was alive and free. As I played, the twists and turns, flicks and sweeps of my fingers conjured in my mind the different contourstwists and turns, ups and downs-of life. The parasol leaves continued to dance in the autumn wind, in the quiet, melancholic air, before finally falling to earth ...

Early next morning the young monk came to our room and invited us to have breakfast. Teng Xiong thanked him, then told him that, still exhausted from the trip, we would skip breakfast and sleep more. In fact, Teng Xiong wanted sex-even though we were in a temple. After we exhausted our bodies by polishing our mirrors on our visit to the Wu Mountain, we fell asleep. When we woke up, to our alarm, it was already afternoon.

"Damn! We have to get ready and leave right away!" Teng Xiong jumped out of bed and started to dress. "I'll go and ask the young monk for some snacks."

After a hasty meal, we were ready to leave. The young monk had already arranged two small sedan chairs to take us to the Dharma Flower Temple.

By the gate, we bade farewell to the abbot. He smiled kindly at me. "Mrs. Teng, I wish you good luck in finding your mother. If I have a chance, I'll also ask about her for you." Then he turned to hand a piece of paper to Teng Xiong, "Mr. Teng, this is the way to Dharma Flower Temple. You can show it to the coolies in case they can't find their way or get lost."

"Thank you for your kindness and generosity, Master Drifting Cloud." We bowed to the two monks before we walked to the waiting sedan chairs.

The four coolies, though young looking, had deep wrinkles on their tanned faces. Their bodies were stout, and their calves muscular, with veins bulging like tiny green snakes. Teng Xiong told the coolies to arrange that my sedan chair be in front and hers follow right behind.

The sun was warm, the road narrow and bumpy, and the coolies silent. Eyes intent and faces alert, they concentrated on the road ahead as if they were doing slow-running meditation. An occasional tree leaning out over the road provided a moment of shade. I watched the dappled patterns flicker on the fleeting ground and felt a dizzy happiness. From time to time I'd stick my head out, turn back, and wave to Teng Xiong, calling out her name. In response, my "husband" would put on a wide grin and cheerily wave back.

After an hour's ride, we finally reached an open field. Now we were far from everything. We could see no temple roofs, nor even smoke from a distant kitchen. Teng Xiong agreed to the coolies' request for a twenty-minute break. The four immediately went to squat down under a tree in a circle, wiped their perspiring faces with a rag, unwrapped some dried buns, and started to eat. After their meager meal, they took out dice to gamble their paltry earnings from the trip.

Teng Xiong suggested that we explore. She called out to the coolies, "We'll stroll around and come back in half an hour."

The skinny one yelled back, "Master, don't take longer than that, for we want to get you there before the sun sets."

"Don't worry; we'll be back on time."

Teng Xiong broke two thick branches to use for walking sticks. To test their sturdiness, she swung them in the air then hit them on the ground, making a pleasant, swishing sound.

Then, when we were ready to set out, I suddenly remembered something. "Wait, Teng Xiong," I said, "I left my qin in the sedan chair."

"Better just leave it there; it'll be too heavy to carry."

Since I didn't want to tell her how "valuable" my qin was, I made up an excuse. "I want to play a nature piece for you under the trees. Besides, I don't want to take any chance that the coolies move things around and break it."

"All right, then I'll carry it for you."

We took the qin and began our journey into the woods. It was as if we'd stepped into a dream. The autumn breeze was chillingly fresh, the sun soothing like a gentle massaging hand, and the fra grance of the ancient trees intoxicating. Slinging my qin in its brocade cover over her shoulder, Teng Xiong looked like a refined, handsome scholar who had walked out from an ancient landscape painting. Watching her silhouette made me sad. If only she were a real man!

We walked silently, each immersed in the moment. From time to time, I'd stoop to pick up something-a mottled leaf, a gracefully shaped stone, a twig in the form of a calligraphic stroke. The lyrics of the qin piece "Ode to Ancient Time" poured out from my lips:

When I finished, Teng Xiong said, "Precious Orchid, your singing is beautiful, but the song is so sad."

"But aren't most Chinese poems sad?"

"It's true. Because life is sad," she murmured, seemingly lost in thought. "So we should enjoy life to the full while we have the chance." She took my hand and lifted it to her lips.

We continued to walk until we reached a small opening, in the middle of which towered a ginkgo tree with heavy limbs, its yellow leaves like golden rain.

Teng Xiong went up to touch the trunk and examine its bark. "Come, Precious Orchid; take a look."

I hurried up to look. "It must be a hundred years old!"

"No, a thousand. This tree has witnessed the rise and fall of dynasties and the lives and deaths of the great and the humble: sages teaching, travelers losing their way, birds making their nests, lovers pledging their vows, monks entering nirvana. Too bad it can't talk, otherwise I'm sure it could entertain us with more stories than the Romance of the Three Kingdoms." She went on, her voice turning sentimental, "I hope our love can last as long as this tree."

I didn't respond. Although I was very fond of Teng Xiong, I didn't think I felt the kind of love for her that I'd feel for a man. But since I'd never fallen in love with a man, how would I know what that kind of love felt like?

Fearing that she'd ask me to pledge love in front of the ancient tree, I tried to distract her. "Teng Xiong, don't you think it's a good idea to play the qin under this tree?"

She nodded, then carefully took down the instrument from her shoulder and peeled off its brocade cover. This time I played "Dialogue Between the Fisherman and the Woodcutter." I imagined Teng Xiong the woodcutter and I the fisherman who, after meeting in the forest, ate grilled fish, drank wine, and discussed philosophy.

In the midst of the forest and attuned to the spirit of the mountain, I played one qin piece after another: "The Drunken Fisherman"; "Three Variations on the Plum Blossom"; "Lament Behind the Long Gate"; then finally "Remembering an Old Friend."

I sighed when my fingers finally lifted off from the instrument, then told Teng Xiong about Pearl.

After I finished, she said, "I'm so sorry. I wish I'd had the chance to meet her." She searched my face. "I'm sure your sister Pearl was as lovely and talented as you are."

"More."

"That I cannot believe. Precious Orchid, you're just being modest." She squinted at me. "I'm sure you know the phrase `turquoise arises from the blue but surpasses the blue'?"

I smiled. This famous phrase was used to describe a student who surpassed his teacher. A pause, then I decided to play one more piece-"Elegant Orchid." Handed down from the Tang dynasty over one thousand years ago, this was perfect to play under the ancient tree.

I was still immersed in the purity of the music when suddenly Teng Xiong exclaimed, "Oh Heaven, we've stayed here for too long!"

Quickly I slipped my qin back into its case. Teng Xiong snatched it from me, took my hand, and we started to run.

"You think the coolies are still waiting for us?"

"I think so, since I haven't paid them yet," she said, the qin bumping against her back.

"Oh no, but Master Drifting Cloud already did! I saw him pay the coolies!"

"Oh my, then I'm pretty sure they're gone," she pulled me along, "and all our clothes and everything else!"

Now I noticed the weather had turned quite chilly and the sun was almost gone. "If they've left, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I can't think right now, but we'll see."

But we didn't. For an hour later, we were still groping in the forest. I realized that the worst had happened-we were lost.

Exhausted from running, walking, and worrying, we finally sat down on a rock to rest. We felt tired and hungry, but there was nothing to drink nor eat. All the food had been left in the sedan chairs.

I covered my face and cried. Teng Xiong put her arm around my shoulder.

"Teng Xiong, I'm scared! " I nestled hard against her.

"It's my fault, I should have kept track of time." She looked around. "I think we'll have to look for shelter and spend the night here."

"But we might freeze to death, or be eaten alive by a tiger! And there might be snakes, I don't want to be bitten!"

She held me tighter. "Precious Orchid, don't panic. We'll just have to be very careful. Then when morning comes, I'm sure we'll be able to figure a way out."

24

The Bandits

ight was draining quickly from the sky and outlines of the imountains had grown dim like pale, smeared ink. We continued to stumble through the thickening mist looking for a place to rest, anything.