The Mandate of Heaven (43 page)

For days after the ceremony Yun Shu withdrew to her chamber, sick in soul and body. She suspected Worthy Master Jian had encouraged her to drink more of the bitter elixir than before. Each time a little more. She would have feared poison except he drank so much of the metallic, green sludge himself.

Lady Lu Si attended her frequently, tight-lipped with anger. Yun Shu knew very well what the older nun thought of Worthy Master Jian: a distrust she was beginning to share. But when she voiced her fears, Lady Lu Si cut the subject short. ‘Abbess Yun Shu,’ she said, genuinely distressed, ‘it is for
you
to decide what is best, not I! There can not be two Abbesses.’

Yun Shu regarded her predecessor through bloodshot eyes. The bags beneath them hung like bruises. Her once shiny black hair, so thick and strong, was thinning. ‘I need good counsel,’ she whispered.

She was surprised to see tears in the old nun’s eyes. ‘That is why I will remain silent. Remember, silence is thunder.’

The next day she brought an unexpected visitor. Yun Shu had risen finally and was resting on a marble bench overlooking the lake. The monsoon rolled west, leaving a flawless blue sky. Despite sunshine on her face she felt cold inside.

Yun Shu looked away uneasily as Lady Lu Si led her guest over, ashamed what he would make of her wan face and trembling hands.

‘I was told you are unwell,’ said Teng, examining her closely. ‘May I join you?’

She nodded, indicating a marble bench beside her own. For a long while he seemed reluctant to talk. Yun Shu noticed Lady Lu Si had withdrawn, leaving them alone. Finally, he looked up. ‘Tell me,’ he said with unexpected passion, ‘have your
meetings
with Worthy Master Jian continued?’

She blinked at him. Teng rose and began to pace the meditation platform.

‘No need to reply! I see the mischief. That rogue! No, I am to blame. It was I who gave him those accursed bamboo strips. I who translated their obscurities!’

‘I do not understand,’ she said.

‘Of course you do! Or, at least, should. Don’t you see that Jian is following slavishly, quite slavishly, the ancient method for gaining Immortality! Stage by stage, leap by hop! He is mad!’

‘It is a great honour,’ she mumbled. ‘He promised to ensure Cloud Abode Monastery does not pass to the Buddhists if I help him.’

‘The rogue!’ repeated Teng. ‘The Jian clan always lacked principle.’

She might have mentioned what the Deng clan’s high principles had cost the populace of Hou-ming. ‘As ever, I have no choice in the matter,’ she protested.

‘Even so, I beg you not to drink the elixirs,’ he said. ‘Do not look so surprised I know about them! Remember I translated the infernal list of ingredients he is using. Utterly irresponsible to spend so much
cash
on dubious potions when half the city longs for a bowl of broth! Mad, I say!’

Despite her pale cheeks, Yun Shu managed a feeble blush. ‘Then you must know about …’

‘Of course!’ he waved her embarrassment away. ‘Such practises are well known. But I worry about the elixirs. They contain, let us say,
unnatural
things.’ Teng laughed harshly. ‘Jian is a fool to be so credulous! If the bamboo books spoke truly we would hardly have found a pile of bones in the dead prince’s coffin.’

Both fell silent. Again he settled on the marble bench. ‘Do you remember Mirror Lake, Yun Shu? How innocent we both were. Sometimes I dream of the limestone hills.’

She watched him closely. ‘As do I,’ she said.

Side by side they stared out across glittering Six-Hundred-
Li
Lake. Fishing boats and flocks of white birds floated between tree-clad islands.

‘You must take care,’ he said. ‘I need not mention Lady Lu Si’s concern for you.’

‘There, at least, you are mistaken,’ she said. ‘Lady Lu Si will never forgive me for becoming Abbess.’

He looked at her in surprise. ‘Is that what you believe?’

‘How could I believe anything else?’

‘I see. Yes, I see.’ Again he brooded. ‘Yun Shu, you need a little
fun
. A diversion from your duties and burdens. Just like Lady Lu Si herself at this time of year.’ He rose with a business-like air as though something had been settled. ‘Yes, that’s it.’

‘What is?’

‘I take it you are at leisure, Yun Shu, in two days’ time?’

‘I am, but …’

‘Then consider the matter decided.’

With that he bowed and departed. Yun Shu was left to ponder the significance of two days’ time. Yet she made no alternative appointments, just in case.

The mound stood near the Gate of Ten Thousand Victories, higher than the decaying city ramparts, more hillock than mound. Those still dwelling in Hou-ming called it The Grave. No more was necessary.

It wore robes of grass and ferns. Hundreds of flowers planted by mourners. Petals of every shade and shape, blue to vermilion to white then back to blue. Why should not The Grave sustain colour and beauty? So much colour and beauty lay within it.

On this exact day, forty-four years earlier, the mound had been constructed, layer by layer. Nearly two hundred thousand corpses, as well as countless dogs and cats. Even, absurdly, caged songbirds and parrots. Proof Prince Arslan’s vows were cast in stone. His dead brother’s grave mound cast a long, cold shadow over Hou-ming.

Teng and Yun Shu stood to one side as Lady Lu Si knelt at the foot of the mound. Tears glinted on her once lovely cheeks. Her spirit was far away, mingling again with the companions of her youth. All banished too early. Too senselessly. Each day she woke to the insoluble guilt of survival and escape. If being used by dozens of Mongol braves and abandoned as dead, bleeding from every orifice, can be called escape.

Yun Shu glanced at Teng. He was watching the old nun carefully as she knelt and wept. She felt an urge to take his arm and lean against him. Buttress his pity with her warmth.

Lady Lu Si had told her how Teng, when just a boy, noticed her distress on an anniversary of the Great Sacrifice. ‘Aunty Lu,’ he’d said, ‘we shall go to The Grave and tell all those people they are not forgotten. Then I’ll cheer you up with a treat!’ His treat had been a picnic of wild fruit picked on Monkey Hat Hill. It had given Lady Lu Si heart to face another year. Every year since, he had taken her to visit the ghosts before arranging the best treat he could afford. A tale that moved Yun Shu deeply.

After half an hour, Lady Lu Si rose and dusted down her skirts. When she joined the younger folk they bowed.

‘Well,’ she said, dabbing her eyes, ‘it is done for another year.’

‘Not quite,’ said Teng.

He led the two nuns in their blue and yellow robes back into the city. Although whole wards and districts still lay abandoned, home to vagrants and creeping vegetation, the area round prince Arslan’s palace was busy and populated. Before they entered a fashionable teahouse, Yun Shu cried out, ‘Look! Isn’t that the actress who was Su Lin in your play? Her voice is sweeter than a nightingale’s!’

Teng followed her pointing finger. ‘I wonder what business she has in Prince Arslan’s palace,’ he said. His anxious expression made Yun Shu ask what troubled him. A question he brushed aside.

Yet delightful hours followed. For once Teng had plenty of
cash
. Fine teas were served along with pastries and cakes, sweets and savouries. He drank wine, the ladies more sober refreshments. Yun Shu was presented with a health-giving cordial to counter her sickness.

All the while, he exercised his considerable wit, sharing tales of actors vain as peacocks and theatre-owners miserly as squirrels. Towards the end of the long meal he grew serious.

‘Yun Shu,’ he said, ‘I have a confession. I invited you along not just for your pleasant company. No, it was to play matchmaker. Is that not so, Lady Lu Si?’

The old nun smiled. ‘Teng told me,’ she said, ‘you believe I am angry with you for becoming Abbess. For stealing my position.’

Yun Shu turned accusingly to Teng. ‘How could you? I told you in confidence!’

He waved away her upset with a wine cup. ‘Hear Lady Lu Si out!’

In a quiet yet firm voice the former Abbess explained the extent of Yun Shu’s mistake. ‘At first, when you asked for my advice, I always held back. Out of pride, perhaps, and hurt. But it is a long time since that has been my motive. I dread factions among the Serene Ones. I am afraid to weaken your authority as Abbess.’

Yun Shu reached over the table and took the older woman’s hand. ‘Well I insist on your advice from now on! Let there be no more misunderstandings between us.’

The nuns talked earnestly as they walked back to Monkey Hat Hill, debating how best to avert the Buddhists’ claims. Teng followed behind, lost in thought.

Before they parted at the foot of the Hundred Stairs, he said quietly to Yun Shu. ‘Come to Deng Mansions at noon tomorrow. There is something I must give you. While I still may.’

She smiled at him. Never had he seemed so handsome. She felt reluctant to leave his company. ‘Your treat and your matchmaking have quite restored my health! Thank you.’

‘At noon,’ he said. ‘Time is pressing hard.’

Noon the next day found Yun Shu outside Deng Mansions. A mournful bell tolled across the once great city of Hou-ming.

Teng appeared promptly in the gatehouse, his bow of greeting low. She sensed he was nervous. Not to be outdone, her own bow exceeded his in gravity.

‘We are all politeness today,’ she remarked, adjusting her robes as she straightened. He watched her closely.

‘Surely politeness toward a guest is proper,’ he said. Dark shadows ringed his eyes. Under one arm he carried an ox bone scroll case capped at either end with carved jade stoppers. His clothes were creased as though recently slept in.

‘Are you unwell?’ she said.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘You don’t seem yourself.’

‘Come with me. We must talk frankly before Father discovers you. Then you’ll
really
see some politeness. You know how he dotes on you.’

He led her across the courtyard to a door hanging on one hinge. Beyond lay a long corridor reeking of mould that terminated in a section of collapsed wall. Beetles and woodlice feasted on the wet wood.

‘The last big storm severely damaged this part of the house,’ he said, ‘and there is no money for rebuilding.’

He led her to the rear gardens of Deng Mansions and the mound sculpted to represent Holy Mount Chang. Teng pointed at the moon-gazing pavilion on top of the false mountain. ‘We can talk privately there.’

She nodded and climbed the short flight of steps, taking a seat on a cracked marble bench beneath the domed roof of the pavilion. Moss and creepers covered the floor. Teng leaned against a pillar, tapping the ox bone case against his leg. Yun Shu gazed across the lake at distant mountains.

‘Aren’t you going to ask why I brought you here?’ he said.

‘You will tell me eventually. All I need do is wait.’

His laugh was uneasy. ‘Do you remember this toy mountain when we were children? My illustrious grandfather built it. I often think it is like the previous dynasty, faithful to a mountain’s appearance but not its essence, namely, strength and power. Also,’ he added, wryly, ‘there is no dragon on this Mount Chang for you to subdue. Except myself, of course.’

‘I remember playing here,’ she said, ‘but I’m not sure you were ever a wicked dragon. Besides, some dragons are friendly.’

He glanced toward the house as though for unwelcome visitors.

‘It was never just the two of us,’ he said, ‘Hsiung was the third corner of our triangle. Now there’s a strange thing! Then I was superior to Hsiung in every way except muscles. His master’s son, no less! Now he is the Noble Count of Lingling. Yet I hear his rule was harsh in the port of Chenglingji.’

Yun Shu started at the name. ‘Chenglingji? Really?’

‘Not only was there a massacre, Hsiung has retained a most disreputable family as the town’s rulers. Some refugees report they are more rapacious than when they served the Mongols.’

Her gaze returned to the distant mountains. Images of Dear Uncle’s face and tongue required banishment. Always there were dragons to drive away. She could never escape them.

‘That is not the reason I asked you to come,’ he said, offering the ox bone scroll case, ‘it was for this.’

Yun Shu removed the stoppers and pulled out a tightly rolled scroll painted on yellowed silk. Some of the characters were unfamiliar to her.

‘Perhaps you can translate it?’ she asked.

After he had done so, illuminating the finer legal points, Yun Shu looked at him in puzzlement. ‘I’m sure I should thank you,’ she said, ‘but what use are claims on an estate I shall never see, let alone possess? Especially as you tell me this Wei Valley lies hundreds and hundreds of
li
to the West. Has not the very law that gave this document force been set aside by the Mongols?’

‘One day the ancient laws will be restored,’ he said, ‘and some claims are moral, not legal. You, or a member of your family, might find this document useful. You could use it to reclaim Wei Valley for the Yun clan, for the noble poet Yun Cai’s ancestors. Therefore, take good care of it.’

She bowed. ‘I am grateful for your kind intention.’ Yun Shu met his eyes. ‘There was more, Teng, wasn’t there?’