Peach Blossom Pavilion (45 page)

But still, I couldn't believe that he had turned beggar!

I felt too humiliated even to look at him. Finally I said, staring at the cauldron, which now appeared like a tomb burning in hell, "So, you've been begging?"

"Yes," he replied, not a hint of shame in his voice.

I tried hard to keep my tone from sounding angry. "You're not embarrassed to beg in public?"

"Taoists call this `asking for alms,' `receiving donations,' or `connecting the good Karma.' It is nothing to be ashamed of."

Of course, I'd seen bedraggled monks and nuns begging on the streets of Shanghai but the regular monks attached to temples looked down on them. My mother had explained to me that, since hermit monks didn't have much source of income, begging had become their main way to make a living. Sometimes I `d even given them a few coppers to bring myself good Karma. But I'd never imagined I'd be so poor as to live on alms myself.

I stared at Qing Zhen and the gifts he'd bought with the money he'd begged, while feeling a surge of anger rising within. I lost control and spat out, "Qing Zhen, shame on you!"

He looked stunned. "Precious Orchid, you never talked to me like that!"

"Because I put up with you. Because I never imagined you'd turn a beggar!"

Veins throbbing in his temples, he said angrily, "Put up with me? Don't you love me? Haven't I been nice to you?"

"Nice? When you spend all your time caring for that dead bird in your concoction?"

"But that's my vocation!"

"Yes, you only care for your vocation." I tapped my chest. "Then what about mine?" I immediately regretted that I'd said this. What if Qing Zhen told me to go back to prostitution? Then relief washed over me-I'd never told him the truth that I'd been not a maid, but a prostitute.

Now he stared at me with eyes tinted with sadness. "You have your freedom here."

"Freedom? I hate this mountain. It's a prison! " I screamed. "You have your fu, your concoction, and your longevity exercises but what do I have? Nothing!" I started to cry.

Qing Zhen remained silent, then he gently put his arm around my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Precious Orchid. I didn't know you were so unhappy living here with me."

Still sobbing, I buried my head in his chest. "It's not that. It's ... I have no friends and no news of my mother."

He caressed my head, cooing, "Tomorrow you'll meet lots of people at the temple fair. And we'll also ask for your mother there."

27,

The Encounter

elestial Cloud was situated about twelve miles away from our Jhut. In order to save money, Qing Zhen suggested we walk half of the way, then hire sedan chairs for the rest of the trip.

When we finally arrived at the temple at noon, its entrance was already crowded with shanxin-virtuous believers, also called xi- angke, fragrant visitors, because they are constantly lighting incense as offerings to the gods. But I wondered. Did their investment produce anything more than ashes?

We had to push and squeeze our way in like eels wriggling in a crowded pond. But I didn't mind at all; in fact, I was tremendously enjoying being jostled by other people. I even stooped to pat a little boy's head and sniff the perfume wafting from an expensively dressed tai tai.

The temple looked impressively old. Sunlight glinted on the undulating yellow roof tiles where green dragons danced on golden clouds. Decorative banners rippled in the breeze as if waving to encourage the throng of pilgrims to make offerings in exchange for blessings. In the distance towered a white pagoda, looking like a bearded sage bestowing wisdom.

When we stepped inside the temple, we were greeted by paintings and statues showing every possible kind of god.

I nudged Qing Zhen's elbow. "Who are all these?"

He pointed to a series of paintings depicting bearded men in elaborate robes. "These are the highest of all the gods. They were here at the beginning of the universe." Then he pointed to men dressed in armor and riding on ferocious beasts. "These are the generals who command the demons to cast away evil spirits and suppress monsters."

"There are so many! "

"That way," he smiled mischievously, "there are enough gods to answer all the needs of us mortals."

I wondered: Why isn't there a goddess of romance to solve my problem with Qing Zhen?

Just then I spotted a white-robed goddess holding a baby. It was the son-sending Guan Yin. A woman, not quite young and not quite pretty, was praying in front of the statue, prostrating and knocking her head hard on the stone floor.

I pointed her out to Qing Zhen. "Do you believe this works?"

"It depends on how sincere one's prayer is.,,

I meditated hard on Qing Zhen's answer, then decided it had nothing to do with sincerity, but fate. Women are like fields; some fertile, others barren. I sighed inside. Even this Guan Yin couldn't bring me a son with Qing Zhen so long as he kept directing his semen back to his brain.

We stopped to admire a stone pillar carved with motifs of dragons and phoenixes-symbols of harmonious marriage. While my eyes outlined the graceful shapes and my hand ran along the cool texture, my heart sank. Like these birds dwelling in a soaring pillar, I was trapped and unable to fly away.

But these somber thoughts did not last long. The temple was quickly filling up with noisy visitors. Everyone seemed to be dressed in their best. Though their clothes were hardly fashionable by Shanghai standards, watching them was a great joy after all my months of solitude. Women wriggled in colorful, embroidered jackets; their pomaded hair decorated with fresh flowers, kingfishers' feathers, or jeweled hairpins. Some men were clad in long Chinese gowns while others sported Western suits and felt hats. Although these people came from wuhu sihai-the five lakes and the four seas-all came for the same reasons: to cast away evil spirits, pray for good fortune, and receive blessings.

In the distance near a high platform, I saw a gathering of Taoist monks in elaborately embroidered, many-colored robes. As they talked, they made sweeping gestures, each movement setting the robes' gold and silver threads glimmering, conjuring images of flying fish diving in and out of the ocean, their bodies shards of glittering reflections.

Once Qing Zhen spotted the other monks, he pulled me aside. "Precious Orchid, now I have to go and join them to prepare for the ceremony." He paused to look around, then spoke again, "I want you to enjoy yourself. There'll be two more hours before the ceremony begins, so why don't you stroll around? This temple is huge, with many separate buildings, so there'll be more than enough to keep you diverted." He looked at me intently, his angular face achingly handsome and mysterious in the soft light within the temple. "Be sure to come back and watch the ceremony, but just in case you don't see me, meet me at the south gate of this building when the ritual ends. All right?"

I nodded, holding his gaze as long as I could.

He swiftly squeezed my hand, then turned to walk. After he was away a few steps, he came back. "Precious Orchid, I'm sorry I can't keep you company. Are you sure you'll be fine by yourself?"

I nodded again, giving my pocket a discreet pat. "I have the money you gave me."

A smile broke on his face. "Good, go enjoy yourself. And don't forget to meet me at the south gate."

"I won't."

Then he hurried forward and soon vanished into the crowd.

I walked unhurriedly, savoring the feeling of being rubbed and bumped by other human beings. The air smelled of a mixture of lush vegetation, incense, fried food, perfume, and human sweat. I inhaled deeply and sighed with satisfaction. Debris crunched and moaned under my feet; the soothing sound of distant bells trembled in the spring air. From time to time I'd even offer a smile to handsome strangers to show my good taste and appreciation.

I looked up and saw a sky as blue as the sea and as clear as a clean sheet of rice paper. The air was cool and crisp. So crisp that I could almost hear when people waved their hands and blinked their eyes.

This was the second time I'd felt a genuine sense of freedom. The first had been when I'd run away from Peach Blossom with Teng Xiong. Now her intimate yet strange name sent throbs of pain to my heart, followed by a sense of guilt. During the many months I'd been immersed in the oblivion of living with Qing Zhen, I hadn't thought much about my woman lover. Teng Xiong. While my tongue rubbed along the two words, my mind was filled with her elegant, effeminate image. I had no idea where she was now nor what she was doing. Did I dare hope she held no grudge against me for my abrupt departure? But almost a year had gone by. What if she had already fallen in love with someone else and had completely forgotten me? The thought made me sad. However, since I was the one who'd left her, I had no one to blame but myself. Rich and smart as she was, she could go wherever she pleased and do whatever she desired. That was real freedom. How I wished I were like her! If my money and jewelry had not been lost, I certainly would be better off now, much better. I could have bought a big, beautiful house, and maybe persuaded Qing Zhen to dissolve his vow as a monk and live with me. Maybe I'd also have a baby. I was sure it would be a cute little thing. Seed planted by an erudite monk in a ming ji! Instinctively my hand moved down to my stomach, but instead of feeling some vigorous kicking, it landed on flat, motionless flesh.

Tears pooled in my eyes as I continued to walk, passing through corridors, subtemples, courtyards. Then suddenly, through my blurred vision, I spotted a little girl. She was three or four, all dressed in red. Her round, glowing cheeks matched her dress and shoes. Her eyes were big and round like miniature mirrors reflecting two darting black marbles. As she jumped and danced around, thick plaits bounced on her shoulders like fat chopsticks.

My heart melted. I'd never seen a girl so captivating.

Now she was yanking her mother's sleeve. "Mama, Mama," her pudgy finger pointed to a street stall and her sugary voice chirped. "Pudding! "

The young mother, a rich, elegantly dressed tai tai, stooped to pat her head. "Is that what you want?"

She eagerly nodded.

A moment after grabbing the white-sugared pudding, the little one had already smeared it all around her lips.

I chuckled at the sight while my hand reached to pat her head. To my surprise, instead of returning my friendliness with a smile, the little round face, now drained of blood and distorted by fear, looked as pale as her pudding.

"Mama! Mama!" She dropped the pudding and yanked at the hem of her mother's dress.

The rich woman turned and our eyes met. Her glance was filled with suspicion and contempt. Then, to my utter shock and surprise, she spat as if to cast away evil spirits, then pulled her daughter away.

I watched their backs disappear into the crowd, feeling so upset that my body shivered. Suddenly I realized that it had been months since I'd looked in a mirror. With no pomade, no perfume, no makeup, but only coarse clothes and a dark-tanned face which suggested having to labor outdoors like a coolie-no wonder the tai tai had spat at me. They must have thought that I was a beggar girl, or a maid sent away because she'd contracted some terrible disease. Maybe the mother even thought I was a potential abductor! I felt queasiness simmering in my stomach and blood pounding in my temples. No wonder the little girl looked so scared and her mother so disgusted!