Peach Blossom Pavilion (40 page)

When I regained my senses, I found myself in the monk's arms. I squirmed. "Please let me down. I can walk."

"You can't. Please trust me and let me help you," he said firmly. His feet continued to plod on the ground, making small explosive sounds whenever they stepped on a fallen branch.

Too tired to argue, I closed my eyes and let him hold me tightly against his chest. His heartbeat, palpable and steady, made me feel strangely secure.

I must have fallen asleep. For when I woke up, we were already in front of a small hut. He put me down, opened the door, and led me inside. There was no decoration except an altar table, a medicine cabinet, a cauldron, and two chairs.

Before I had a chance to say something, he was already speaking. "Please follow me."

"Here we are," he said, walking into a side room, where he set down his lantern and satchel. He lit another lantern near a window.

"You mean this is a temple?" I blurted out, then bit my lip. I shouldn't have said something insulting to a monk, especially not after he'd just saved my life!

He didn't answer me, but took a pot and poured us cold tea.

I sat down and sipped, then looked around more carefully. Although the room was small, it was carefully arranged. Facing the entrance was a high table holding a statue of Lao-tzu-the author of the Tao-te ching. A pad for sleeping was placed next to one wall, which was bare except for a painting inscribed, The Elixir Terrace. It depicted a scholar standing on a promontory amid tall mountains, looking at a cauldron from which vapor rose.

A bookcase filled with string-bound books and a writing table were set against another wall. Then, to my utter surprise, I spotted, on top of the table, a qin. I turned to scrutinize the monk's face, enigmatic in the dim light of his lanterns. Now that his topknot had loosened, wisps of hair flew here and there like cursive calligraphy.

"You play the qin?" I could hear the disbelief and excitement in my voice.

"Yes."

"But you're a monk!"

He looked at me for long moments. "Some of us have a tradition of playing the qin. It's a form of meditation; we hope the instrument's transcendental tones will bring us to be one with the Way."

It seemed hardly possible that I'd been rescued at all, let alone by a Taoist monk who was also a qin player! "Master, I didn't have the chance to ask your name-"

"Qing Zhen."

Pure and True. A beautiful name. And yet I felt sad. For this was only his Taoist appellation, really only a disguise, even if a religious one. I wondered if I'd ever know his real name, the one his parents had given him.

"And your name?"

"Precious Orchid," I said, then pointed to the qin. "Can I take a look?"

"Of course, but don't you want to eat and wash first? Besides," he pointed to my cheek, "I think you'd better clean your face now."

My cheeks felt hot. I must have looked horrible. My face was covered with bruises and my hair entangled with twigs and grass. My prestigious look was completely gone-in front of a handsome monk!

I blurted out, "Do you have a mirror?"

He seemed at a loss for what to say. Then, without a word, he left the room. Soon he returned with a basin of water and a towel, and began to clean my face.

"Ouch! " I cried when the towel touched my sore cheeks.

The monk ignored my cries while his hands continued to nurse my wounds. When he finished washing my face and hands, he went to pour the water outside the room.

Coming back, he asked, "Do you feel better now?"

I nodded. "Can I now take a look at the qin, please?"

He stared at me with concern. "Miss Precious Orchid, are you. . all right?"

My cheeks felt hot. He must have found it strange that I, after being ravished by a bandit, could act so normal, could even have the heart to appreciate a musical instrument. Hai! Of course, he did not know that for eight long years, I was "raped" every night by different stinking males!

I said softly, "I think I'll feel better if I can look at your qin."

The monk let me examine the qin's surface, then its inscription at the back. Tianfeng Xiaoxiao-Heavenly Zephyr Whistling Deep and Clear.

"How elegant." I ran my finger on the finely textured lacquer. "This must be an ancient one."

"This qin has witnessed at least eight hundred years of life."

I looked up at him. "You mean this is a Sung qin?"

He nodded.

"Master Qing Zhen, what a coincidence, I'm also a qin player!"

His face glowed. "You are?"

I eagerly nodded.

"It would be my honor to hear you play sometime," he said. "But now please rest while I fix something to eat. You better have something to nourish your stomach." After that, he left the room.

Suddenly my stomach seemed to be gnawed by a hundred rats. I realized I hadn't had anything to eat since Teng Xiong and I had left the monastery. Just then, Teng Xiong's image flashed across my mind. I covered my face and cried, "Teng Xiong, are you all right?"

I sobbed for long moments, then finally dried my tears. Hoping that the qin could calm my agitated spirit, I started to tune it. As I rested my finger on the lacquered surface and was about to meditate, I thought of my qin. Pearl's dying gift to me was lost, together with all my money and jewelry that I'd hidden inside!

I realized I was once again completely alone in the world, and penniless as well.

"Oh, no!" I screamed.

Tears again swelled in my eyes but this time I wouldn't let them fall. I gathered up myself and began to play "Remembering an Old Friend." With sadness, I realized that I had not only Pearl to remember, but Teng Xiong as well. She'd been right-life is sad. Staying alive just means struggling not to drown in the sea of suffering.

After I finished "Remembering an Old Friend," I went on to play "Lament Behind the Long Gate." This time I sang. While I was immersed in the beauty and melancholy of the lyrics, another voice, pure, powerful, and penetrating, joined mine. I was startled. This monk, who'd been so formal and polite with me, sang in a voice which seemed to possess the sympathy to understand the deepest sorrow, the tenderness to heal all wounds, and the magic to wash away life's pains. When we finished, tears, now against my will, spilled down my cheeks. I shut my eyes, then looked up to see Qing Zhen at the door, holding a tray atop of which lay bowls of steaming buns, soup, and rice.

I wiped the tears with my sleeve. "I'm sorry," I muttered. In my heart, jars of condiments toppled, spilling a mixture of tastesweet, sour, bitter, piquant.

Qing Zhen came to put the tray on the table, then took the qin and hung it on the wall. He refreshed our tea and we sat down. He handed me a bowl. "This is a special herb soup that I cooked to heal your bruises."

I drained the bitter brew and started to eat, aware of his intent glances. But I didn't care anymore about etiquette and prestige, nor even whether I looked pretty. I focused my entire attention on the food in front of me. He ate only a small amount, and when we finally finished, he took me to a small open-air enclosure where he'd already prepared a wooden tub of hot water.

"Miss Precious Orchid, take your time and don't worry. I'll be just outside standing guard."

I peeled off my torn clothes and gingerly stepped inside the tub. The water, hot and, to my surprise, scented, felt healing against my skin. Knowing that Qing Zhen was nearby, I felt both relaxed and secure. I splashed the hot water over my face, back, and shoulders. Then, remembering the repulsive Bulge-Eyes, I splashed the water harder so the monk wouldn't hear me sobbing. I rubbed my skin so hard that it turned pink and raw. Despite the pain, it was wonderful to start feeling clean again. Looking up at the sky, I saw the bright moon and burning stars staring back at me. Pained with pleasure, I sighed.

"Miss Precious Orchid, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I said, suddenly feeling very conscious of my nakedness with a handsome man less than ten feet away from me. I wondered what was now on Qing Zhen's mind. As a monk, would he fancy me? Would he lust after my naked body? If he did, would his jade stalk stir? I imagined that the hot water now sloshing against my body was the warm caress of his hand. I let out a long sigh, but this time the monk didn't respond. I looked up at the sky and caught the mischievous wink of a bright, elusive star.

When I finished, Qing Zhen reached over the enclosure and handed me his Taoist robe. I quickly pulled it on, then walked back inside the hut, while he took his turn to bathe. When he came back, I was sitting on the chair next to the qin table. Now his body towering by the door, he looked quite different-fresh and luminous. He wore no scarf, and I could see all of his hair, long and soft, curled on top of his head like a sleeping cat.

In silence, we held each other's glance for long moments.

Then he spoke, his voice soft. "Miss Precious Orchid-"

"Please just call me by my name."

"Precious Orchid, let me boil some fresh tea for you."

As he moved swiftly around to prepare tea, I could feel waves of energy radiating in the room. It pleased my eyes to see his muscular, sinewy body and his deeply concentrated expression. When he finished, he brought the tray, put it down on the table, then sat opposite me and poured us both full cups.

We sipped our tea for a few awkward moments before he asked, "Precious Orchid, are you feeling better now?"

I nodded, my eyes exploring the enigmatic face. Although tempted to know more about him, I decided to remain silent.

He cast me a concerned look. "Do you want to rest?"

I shook my head, then silently sipped my tea.

Finally he spoke, "Precious Orchid," now he looked at me as if he were a connoisseur trying to identify a piece of art, "please tell me about your life."

Suddenly my life seemed so complicated that I didn't know where to start. I took a deep breath. "But I'm sure it wouldn't interest you."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I . . . " I was struggling as to whether I should tell him about the Peach Blossom Pavilion. "I don't think my travails in the red dust would interest a monk."

He looked puzzled. "As a monk, I've seen all of this world and other ones, too."

"I'm not so sure."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're just too young."

He laughed, then remained silent, nursing his cup.

I searched his eyes for a while before I blurted out, "I was a sister."

"A sister?" He looked more puzzled. "You mean ... a nun?"

My heart melted inside. How naive. This handsome man in front of me had no idea what a sister meant. I changed the subject and asked instead, "Qing Zhen, how did you end up here as a Taoist monk?"

"It was a promise to my father."

"He didn't want you to marry and have sons?"

His eyes glowed. "You know that while the Buddhist monks cultivate nonattachment, we Taoists, on the contrary, practice alchemy to achieve longevity?"

"I've heard about that."

"In our family, so many people died young. My mother took the crane's flight when I was but a year old, followed by my only uncle from my father's side, then by another uncle from my mother's side. My father, frightened that he might be next, began to study the Taoist alchemy of longevity. When I'd barely turned eleven, he sent me to be a monk in the Celestial Cloud Temple. But shortly after this, he, too, died a mysterious death."

"Oh heaven, I'm so sorry."

He went on, his expression sad, "I don't remember my mother. Being a monk is the only life that I know."

"Then do you regret being a monk?"

He thought for a while. "No. I think this is a better life for me. I like living on the mountain and I don't like to deal with all the complexities of the dusty world." He paused to sip his tea, then, "Last month, my master sent me to this small hut to live as a hermit to concoct a special kind of elixir for longevity. The period for the experimentation is one year, so I still have eleven months here before I go back to Celestial Cloud."

Now I understood why this "temple" was so small and had no other monks around. "If you don't mind, can you tell me what you live on as a hermit?"

"I'm still connected with the main temple, so when they organize big-scale rituals, I'll go back and help."

"Don't you feel lonely living here all by yourself?"

"I'm used to a solitary life."

I sighed inside. Didn't he need a woman? Didn't he feel anything being with me? Instinctively my hand reached to smooth my hair and my clothes.

Qing Zhen's voice rose again. "Precious Orchid," he searched my face, "I'm just a simple monk. Please tell me about your life."

I wanted this man to think that I was a proper woman from a decent, scholarly family (this was in fact the truth!), not a decadent one losing herself in the floating world of the wind and dust, one whose arms were used as a pillow by a thousand guests, whose two slices of crimson lips were tasted by ten thousand men.

I told him everything about my life-except I changed a few details. Instead of working as a sister at Peach Blossom, I'd been a maid in a rich man's house. Then I'd run away, for two reasons: to avoid ill treatment from my master and to find my mother and the warlord. Needless to say, I also lied to him about my relationship with Teng Xiong. Now Teng was another maid who'd run away with me from the same rich man's mansion. Bringing up Teng Xiong made me feel guilty again, for her place in my heart was now completely taken by a monk.

When I finished, the monk looked long lost in thoughts. Moments passed before he spoke. "I can't believe that your mother just left you behind and never writes. There must be something more to it. I feel some dark force has interfered." He paused to sip more tea. "And now, you're here to look for her. Although it'll be very hard, please don't worry too much, I'll try my best to help you. I'll also make a charm for finding her. I'm sure you two will be reunited soon." Another silence, then, "I'll make another one that will reach down to the yin world to aid your father."

I nodded, consumed with gratitude for Qing Zhen and sadness over Baba. Then I poured out how my resolution to revenge my father had sustained me during my life as a maid amid all the tragedies, including Pearl's (another maid, my sworn blood sister) death.