The Mandate of Heaven (65 page)

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Authors: Tim Murgatroyd

BOOK: The Mandate of Heaven
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Yun Shu met the eye of her predecessor as Abbess, Lady Lu Si. Both women were pale. Perhaps they shared the same thought, for when Yun Shu replied, barely concealing her bitterness, Lady Lu Si nodded approvingly.

‘Tell Worthy Master Jian we are obedience itself,’ said the Abbess. ‘Tell him that when the peace resumes and loyal followers of the Dao learn about his true motives in this matter, he shall have many questions to answer.’ Trembling, she added, ‘Tell him, I hope the Buddha’s knucklebone makes him an Immortal very soon, for that is the only way he will escape those questions!’

Void bowed, smiling slightly. ‘I think we can be quite sure of that,’ he said. His face hardened. ‘By dusk! You must be gone by dusk or I shall personally tear to shreds your certificates of registration!’

With that, he withdrew to a nearby chamber with his assistants. From this vantage point he could supervise the Nuns’ preparations for departure. It was significant the priest’s entourage included a dozen guards armed with swords and thick, bamboo clubs.

There was no need to call a conclave of the Serene Ones. All had been present in the Temple of Celestial Masters. Yun Shu ordered them to sit on the floor in a circle. Most were weeping. Only one, ancient Earth Peace, was saved by the bewilderment of old age from comprehending how the certainties of an entire lifetime had expired in an instant. Instead of joining the others, Yun Shu led her to a chair near the door where she sat patiently.

‘I cannot believe the Queen Mother of the West wants this!’ said Lady Lu Si. ‘Yet the Worthy Master was quite clear he had spoken with the Goddess!’

Three Simplicities looked round to check whether they were overheard. Seeing two Daoist officials in the shadows she proclaimed loudly: ‘I welcome this indication of Divine Favour! How blessed we are in our holy President!’

Yun Shu and Lady Lu Si shot contemptuous glances at their fellow
sanren
.

‘I see Three Simplicities intends to profit from the destruction of an institution that has existed in this city for four hundred years,’ said Lady Lu Si.

‘Oh, I am obedient!’ cried Three Simplicities. ‘My dearest wish is that the authorities take note that
some
are loyal in this monastery!’

‘We do not deserve this!’ exclaimed Gold Immortal in her high, fluty voice. Realising what she had said, the old nun added hastily: ‘Not that I am disobedient or questioning!’

A regretful smile crossed Three Simplicities’ thin-lipped mouth. ‘I have no choice but to report that,’ she said. ‘Why did you have to say that, Gold Immortal? I have no choice!’

Lady Lu Si cleared her throat. ‘Three Simplicities can make any report she likes,’ said the former abbess while Yun Shu continued to watch silently. ‘As soon as the Worthy Master gets his inch of bone I’m sure he will lose interest in us. My own fear goes deeper.’

The other Nuns waited. Even Gold Immortal stopped sniffling miserably.

‘I fear that Chenghuang is punishing us for not serving him with true zeal. Our conduct of the rites must have displeased him. This is his punishment.’

The circle of Nuns broke into fresh wails and tears. Yun Shu, however, clapped her hands for stillness. She had mastered the illusory anger within her soul – or most of it – and was now calm enough to speak.

‘Though sincere in her suggestion, I believe Lady Lu Si is wrong. Chenghuang has been betrayed, but not by us. I have learned a terrible lesson from this. I must advise you that four centuries of devout practice in this holy place has been exchanged so one mortal man might gain Transcendence.’

Then Yun Shu explained the goings-on in Wild Goose Pagoda, concluding with the Worthy Master’s unfortunate release of twenty years’ worth of
jing
. There were shocked moans and exclamations from the other
sanren
. Nevertheless they required more detailed information concerning the ‘accident’.

‘Three Simplicities,’ added Yun Shu, ‘you have my full permission to report
that
. Now I must pack my possessions,’ she said, rising. ‘My final instruction as Abbess is that all, without exception, do likewise. We shall assemble in the hour before dusk to bid farewell to our beloved Chenghuang. Then we shall leave together, our dignity unblemished.’

The Nuns rose, some hugging, others finding a corner to weep alone. Most hurried to their own quarters, desperately speculating where they could go; not least, where they might sleep that night.

It took little time for Yun Shu to pack away her possessions. She recollected how the hoarded valuables of Cloud Abode Monastery had already been transferred to the Worthy Master’s treasure rooms in Golden Bright Temple, leaving only a few chests of faded ritual robes and masses of worthless documents. This thought reminded her of the scroll given to her by Teng in the garden of Deng mansions, a lifetime ago, it seemed. She unrolled it curiously: it granted ownership of Wei Valley to the Yun clan forever. Yun Shu believed she was the last of that clan, unless some still survived in far off Nancheng. So perhaps there was a place she might flee, after all. Except that her choices seemed to lead, one way or other, back to her father’s house and the dubious tutelage of Golden Lotus. Yet the moment she re-entered that household there would be no escape from discontent, misery, conflict and bitter reminiscences.

Yun Shu placed the scroll in her leather travelling satchel and went to inform an Honoured Guest that he must find new shelter.

Ever since the destruction of his ancestral home, Deng Nan-shi had been staying in a chamber next to Bo-Bai’s, part of a brick outbuilding at the rear of the monastery complex. Few visited that part of the ancient warren of buildings. Most of the narrow alleyways and flights of worn stone stairs were disused except by servants bringing the old scholar his meals or emptying his chamber pot. Occasionally, Bo-Bai helped Deng Nan-shi to the garden where he stared at clouds or hopping birds, meditating on matters he would only divulge through sighs. Yun Shu visited him as often as she could, finding the old man’s tenacious hold on life remarkable. She sensed he was waiting for something – or someone – before allowing himself to be transformed.

When Yun Shu arrived at his door, she heard low voices within and wondered if Bo-Bai was explaining that Deng Nan-shi must find fresh quarters that very night. Despite her high position as Abbess, she possessed little in the way of
cash
to pay for an inn. Yet she was determined the venerable scholar would not spend a single hour beneath cold stars.

After a light knock, she opened the door. The man who was talking to Deng Nan-shi provoked a cry of surprise. She recoiled, looked around. Satisfied they were unobserved, she slipped into the small chamber, bolting the door behind her.

Teng had not stirred from the stool beside his father’s bed. Now he rose and bowed very low to the Abbess. When he straightened she saw marks of pain and grief on his face. In a flash she sensed something new about him, something formidable, a wisdom acquired through suffering. Tears were in his eyes as he met her own. Both glanced aside.

She remembered the painting and poem. The promise implicit in the symbol of a blossoming plum, the colours of red and green. Could a man of honour retract so bold a statement? But she was nobody now with Cloud Abode Monastery gone. Why should he consider her worthy of notice?

‘Yun Shu,’ he said, ‘Father has told me everything! I will do anything I can to repay you.’ He laughed oddly. ‘I have acquired by the strangest good fortune, well, let us say, I
can
repay you with far more than gratitude.’

Yun Shu looked wonderingly between father and son at this speech. Deng Nan-shi sat propped in bed, a fierce light in his eyes.

‘My son means to say,’ he croaked, ‘he has returned …’ A hoarse, gasping cough interrupted him. The younger people waited patiently. ‘Returned through grave dangers,’ continued Deng Nan-shi, ‘to fulfil his filial duty as First Son of the Dengs.’

Teng nodded. ‘Yun Shu, I have loyal retainers in my service. Men sworn to protect the descendents of Yueh Fei. We shall carry Deng Nan-shi away with us after dusk. Bo-Bai has told me all about Worthy Master Jian’s treachery!’

He cast an uneasy glance at his father. ‘But tell me: when you leave Cloud Abode Monastery, are you provided for?’

‘I suppose not,’ said Yun Shu, miserably, ‘I am certain the Worthy Master will revoke my licence as a Nun. Then I must return to my father’s house, though it is the last thing I want – with all respect to you, Honourable Deng Nan-shi, as a father yourself.’

The old scholar laughed. ‘Not all fathers make considerate parents,’ he conceded. ‘In any case, you are female so it is natural for him to be less interested in you. You can hardly blame him for what is natural.’

‘No doubt,’ said Yun Shu.

‘What of Lady Lu Si?’ asked Teng. ‘Will she, too, lose her licence?’

Yun Shu thought of Three Simplicities’ promise to report disloyal opinions.

‘Most probably,’ she said.

‘Then, Father, we must take her with us as an Honoured Companion,’ said Teng. ‘I have the means to support her and many more followers.’ He turned back to Yun Shu. ‘If there are spies, and I assume there will be, it is vital we do not stir their suspicion. When you leave Cloud Abode Monastery for the last time at dusk, go to the gardens of Deng Mansions. Ensure my Honoured Father is carried there. Perhaps you will think me presumptuous, yet I wish to make a proposal that may be of great interest. Above all, bring the scroll I once gave you concerning an estate far to the West.’

Yun Shu bowed. It felt pleasant to follow someone else’s plans. In her heart she had no expectation of a happy release. Her thoughts were dragged to Prince Arslan’s compound, where the Salt Minister’s house must become her prison, her one remaining task in this life to breed grandsons for him to spoil and corrupt, as he had his own precious sons and heirs, her dead brothers.

It was no coincidence that on the other side of the city another restless mind brooded upon the same topics as Yun Shu. It belonged to Golden Lotus.

The petite man’s lotus feet were restless, too, as he shuffled through the front courtyard of the Salt Minister’s residence to accost a female servant. As usual, Golden Lotus wore silks and make-up worthy of the finest lady. The effect – overwhelming to a certain taste when he was young – threatened comedy in his thirty-eighth year. Still he retained the mannerisms of a coy, beautiful girl as he greeted the family’s faithful maid, Pink Rose.

‘What have you discovered?’ he asked in a loud, falsetto, fluttering a painted silk fan.

The maid bowed. She was trembling. ‘The guards said the streets are full of people trying to leave the city. When I asked about Cloud Abode Monastery no one knew anything until …’ She hesitated fearfully.

‘Well! Speak up!’

‘A sergeant told me all the Nuns would be sold as whores if the rebels got hold of them.’

Still Golden Lotus’s fan fluttered.

‘And the sergeant said the Buddhists have been given Cloud Abode Monastery. All the Nuns are to be forced out onto the streets.’

The fan stopped. ‘Stupid woman! Tell no one of this!’ He slapped Pink Rose across the face with surprising strength for one so slender.

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