The Mandate of Heaven (60 page)

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Authors: Tim Murgatroyd

BOOK: The Mandate of Heaven
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Yun Shu backed into the alleyway and buried her head in Bo-Bai’s chest.

‘We must stop them!’ she cried. ‘It is a blasphemy against the compassionate Lord Buddha! How can they do this in His name? It is an offence to the Dao!’

Amidst the chanting and shrieks drifting from the slave market, Yun Shu suddenly understood that true perfection could never be attained by senseless, self-centred acts like these. True union with the Dao meant entering its cosmic flow with kindness, hand in hand with the Ten Thousand Creatures.

She remembered Worthy Master Jian’s lofty indifference to the people’s suffering. The leaders of the Dao in Hou-ming must act to calm the people! Did she alone glimpse the truth? The people’s fear was goading them to madness.

Her thoughts reverted to Teng. Ever since his painting and poem confirmed that he was alive, Yun Shu had speculated obsessively. First there had been deep, miraculous joy. Deep, tearful joy. Next, mobbing worries and questions. When would he return? Yet his painting had been almost sensual in its provocative symbolism, the poem charged with promises. She must wait for him, trust he would find a way back to Hou-ming. Still, anxieties gnawed. What if he decided, after all his trials, that she was unworthy, tainted by her intimacy with Worthy Master Jian?

Yun Shu knew how to prove herself. As Abbess of Cloud Abode Monastery she had a duty to help the people, whatever the risk to herself. That was what Teng would expect of her.

‘Bo-Bai,’ she said, ‘take me to Golden Bright Temple! I shall persuade the Worthy Master to remonstrate with these deluded souls. They will surely listen to him. Especially if he rouses the Buddhist clergy and we speak as one.’

The old Eunuch’s expression, already grave, darkened further. ‘For one who is wise,’ he said, ‘you learn men’s hearts far too slowly. But let us go.’

By the time they reached Wild Goose Pavilion, dusk was almost night. Peals of brash trumpets and drums in the distance indicated that the city garrison was attempting to enforce a curfew.

Yun Shu stared at the high tower with its bulbous top storey. Lights were burning up there: also below, near the base. She hardly expected to find the Worthy Master still waiting, so it came as a surprise to discover him cross-legged before the reading stand shaped like Mount Kunlun. The books of bamboo strips maintained their place of honour on the stand.

A letter had been crumpled and cast away, as though in despair or anger. At the sight of his handsome face, gaunt and glazed, complex feelings tightened her breast. She had meant to reproach him, demand he lead a procession of priests onto the streets to curb the people’s excesses, yet the words died in her throat. How thin he had become! Perhaps the elixirs and rites were making him a creature of spirit rather than flesh.

A noise startled her. Cold eyes watched from a dark corner. They belonged to the hairless priest, Void.

‘Worthy Master,’ she cried, bowing low, ‘there is great hysteria in the city. I was delayed by the crowds.’

Worthy Master Jian nodded. A metallic smell confirmed he had been consuming another concoction.

‘I cannot perform the rite tonight,’ she said, ‘I am too lacking in balance! Surely we should consider the welfare of the city on a night like this, not Immortality!’

He examined her. His eyes were glassy and swollen, rims red. At first Yun Shu quailed. Then words long suppressed tumbled out.

‘Worthy Master, do you never fear the books are false? Oh, I will not carry on with this! You must find another spirit-partner!’

His expression hardened. ‘It is too late for that, Yun Shu,’ he said. ‘We have ascended the Steps together. Tonight we must enter the final stage, that of Great Merging. It cannot be otherwise.’

‘I beg you,’ she said, tears starting to her eyes.

He glanced at the crumpled letter lying on the floor.

‘Do you know what it says?’ he asked.

‘How could I?’

‘Then read it.’

She smoothed out the paper and read its contents several times.

‘Now you see my dilemma,’ he said, in a far away voice. ‘Look at me closely, Yun Shu!’

It was a struggle to obey.

‘Do I look healthy to you? I fear that I am fading. If it weren’t for the elixirs I would already have slipped into the Serene Darkness, there to be treated with honour, certainly, but also to be reborn yet again. I command your help, Yun Shu.’

‘Rest!’ she urged. ‘Meditate! Send for doctors!’

He laughed hoarsely. ‘Ah, my dear! It would not be enough. I need you to give me all your
ch’i
in the Stage of Great Merging, you must withhold nothing from me. Nothing! Not a drop of pure life! It is my only hope. Otherwise, though it is the last thing I want, I will accept the Buddhists’ offer in that letter.’

‘Master!’ she cried, in distress.

‘If I exchange Cloud Abode Monastery for a sliver of the Buddha’s knucklebone I will have a chance. If you do not help me, I have no choice!’

‘I … am not spiritually prepared,’ she said.

A gentle smile crossed his face.

‘You will be.’ He turned to where Void waited in the shadows. ‘Fetch the necessary things. Prepare Abbess Yun Shu and bring her to the Final Stage in an hour’s time. I shall await you there after my own preparations.’

With that, the Worthy Master rose swiftly from his lotus position and mounted the staircase leading to the higher levels of Wild Goose Pagoda.

Void coughed and held out a jade pillbox decorated with the symbols for
yin
and
yang
.

‘No,’ said Yun Shu, remembering the last time she took Void’s magical pills charged with autumn essences.

‘They are good,’ insisted Void. ‘The Worthy Master is relying on you.’

‘They are poison!’ she cried. ‘I was sick for a week after …’

‘Be quiet! Obey or betray the Nuns in your care!’

With an unsteady hand, Yun Shu picked out seven pills as directed, swallowing quickly to be rid of their bitter flavour. Nothing happened for a while. Then her vision blurred and she entered a shadowy state. Half aware of Void’s gentle, droning chant, she followed him up the spiral staircase to the final destination of their rites.

As Yun Shu emerged from the doorway she was permitted to observe the top storey of the pagoda for the first time. The walls were decorated with glowing circles of candles to represent sun and moon. A round bed covered by a quilt stood in the centre of the circular room. Most surprising of all, a circular portion of the roof folded back to reveal the clear night sky. Propitiously, it was a warm night.

Void took up the ancient book of bamboo strips from a hidden pocket in his robes and began to recite in a nasal singsong – words that had not been heard for nearly two thousand years, a prayer haunted by the ghosts of long dead priests and princes, their fearful slaves and concubines, lost bodies and spirits, all, all reduced to words bubbling in time’s ceaseless crucible.

Only then did the Worthy Master appear. His silken robes rustled, decorated with images of sun and moon.

‘It is time, Yun Shu,’ he said, triumphantly.

She nodded, trembling. Tears glistened in her eyes.

Yun Shu untied the sash of her long silken cloak and lay back on the sun-shaped bed, staring up at the night sky. Her eyelids fluttered and she heard herself pretend to moan as his touch used the intertwining shapes of
yin
and
yang
in the cosmic egg. With great solemnity, he opened his robe and pushed himself into her.

‘A light shines through me!’ he exclaimed, his breath quickening slightly. ‘The golden flower blossoms! Ah,’ he gasped, ‘now the embryo is rising! I can feel it rising through me!’

‘Please stop!’ begged Yun Shu.

‘The colour white is in my head!’ he declared. ‘Black … red … green … yellow … It is exactly as the bamboo scrolls promise!’

‘No!’ she pleaded, ‘please stop for a moment!’

‘The spirit embryo!’ he cried. ‘I can see it! I am clear as autumn rain. Soon the embryo will be born!’

The Worthy Master’s breath was calm and rhythmical now. She felt him quicken his steps within her. The pain worsened, stung, bruised. It seemed to infect her very womb. A terrible realisation gripped her. In exchange for the birth of his Immortality, he would steal the fruitfulness from her womb! Teng would not want her then! What use would she be to him?

Feebly she tried to rise, push him off. But her head span. Void’s pills left her too weak and sickened.

‘It is now!’ declared the Worthy Master. ‘I am almost reborn! It is strong! So strong!’

But something happened. Instead of rising through his spine to form a divine embryo that would coalesce into his rebirth as an Immortal, his
jing
, his earthly seed, hoarded within him for twenty years and all his rites with Yun Shu, the
jing
he had swollen with her stolen life force, escaped. She felt pulsing within her, a warmth.

‘No!’ he cried, in horror. ‘No!’

A hot rush between her legs as he desperately withdrew his cinnabar stem. He could not contain himself. The Dew of Pearl that had cost a prince’s fortune in precious elixirs turned from pure spirit to common, worldly seed that scattered, warm and dripping, over her thighs.

Utter silence in the chamber apart from their laboured breath. Void’s chanting had ceased in horror. A long shriek of despair emerged from the Worthy Master.

‘It has gone!’ he cried. ‘The embryo! You have stolen it for yourself!’

Yun Shu lay still, staring up at him in amazement.

‘You moved!’ he said, with a bitterness she could not have believed possible. ‘Everything is your fault! It will take years to regather a tenth of what I have lost. By then it will be too late. I shall have faded into dust!’

‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘do not give Cloud Abode Monastery to … you promised!’

He leaped up and began to pace the pagoda. ‘You led me to the final stage quite deliberately,’ he ranted. ‘Quite purposefully! You are in league with my enemies! All to steal my Pearl of Dew! You demon-bitch, you fox fairy!’

At this insult Yun Shu froze. Another man’s voice from her girlhood echoed – Golden Lotus accusing, cursing:
Fox fairy
!
Fox fairy
! Then Worthy Master Jian rushed at her, punching her shoulders and face, so that she shielded herself with her slender arms.

‘Get her away from me!’ he screamed, tears of grief and rage and despair trickling down his cheeks. ‘Oh, I will trade Cloud Abode Monastery for a piece of the Buddha’s knucklebone! You have no one to blame but yourself!’

Too shocked even to weep, Yun Shu found herself hustled down through the various storeys of Wild Goose Pavilion.

Outside she fell to her knees. Void scowled with savage distain before slamming the door.

Her mind seemed without focus. She squinted stupidly. Void’s magical pills were gaining in power, not lessening. She began to sob.

‘Abbess Yun Shu!’

The voice came through a fog. She turned in confusion, longing for it to be Teng, offering forgiveness. But she was defiled, tainted! Her womb was poisoned, drained of life! There could be no more affection. Never more would Teng send her paintings and poems. He would despise her forever as a demon-bitch, a fox fairy!

‘Yun Shu!’ called Bo-Bai.

‘Take me home!’ Her words tumbled between gasps for breath. ‘I am worthless. Quite worthless! I have failed everyone! No one wants me now, Bo-Bai! Send a messenger to my father’s house. Seek out Golden Lotus and tell him I accept! I accept his offer. Tell him to collect me from Cloud Abode Monastery and take me to my father’s house. Tomorrow! Tell him that, Bo-Bai! Oh, I am unworthy to be Abbess!’

Maddened by Void’s pills, she would not listen when he remonstrated – could not.

The grieving Abbess and faithful servant reached Monkey Hat Hill unchallenged. Prince Arslan had concentrated his soldiers around the palace, aware that the next day would bring a battle that would decide the fate of his entire province. On the Hundred Stairs they found a street urchin hiding from the curfew. Minutes later, having scrawled a hasty letter in the gatehouse of Cloud Abode Monastery, Yun Shu sent the lad slipping through the dark, deserted streets of Hou-ming to Golden Lotus.

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