The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure (27 page)

Mother Liu had allowed her to bring a bucket of water and a container of chicken soup. ‘Get the bitch cleaned and fed. I'm holding you responsible,' she had instructed. Fan Yimei had to dip a handkerchief into the soup and gently squeeze the liquid through Shen Ping's torn, cracked lips, but even so her friend could only manage a few mouthfuls without choking. Fan Yimei gently lifted the blanket. She had to be careful because in parts it was glued to the body by caked blood. She nearly retched when she saw the lacerated back and the damage to the lower torso and loins. It took nearly an hour to clean her but even so Shen Ping screamed and hissed with pain. Fan Yimei wept and persisted. When it was over she cradled her friend's head in her lap. Shen Ping only spoke once. Fan Yimei had to put her ear close to the broken mouth to hear. ‘He'll come?' was the rattling sound. ‘De Falang will come?'

‘Oh, yes, my dearest,' Fan Yimei had lied through her tears. ‘Oh, yes.'

‘Then that's all right,' Shen Ping had breathed, and closed her eyes and slept.

Mother Liu had been waiting outside the hut when Fan Yimei emerged.

‘How is she?' she asked.

‘She needs a doctor,' said Fan Yimei.

‘She'll get a doctor. You'll not breathe a word about this, do you hear? Remember, this could happen to you, too, if you disobey—with or without your protector.'

That night they had moved Shen Ping to a room off one of the courtyards. Fan Yimei was allowed to visit her over the following days. Shen Ping had received some rudimentary treatment. Her wounds had been bandaged and Fan Yimei could smell the pungent odour of salves. On the second day she developed a burning fever and Fan Yimei was told to sit with her until the danger was past. She had not been impressed by the doctor, a man called Zhang Erhao who worked at the foreign doctor's hospital and whom she had once entertained before she was bound to Major Lin, a coarse, boastful man who was on good terms with Ren Ren. Mother Liu had brought him in when the fever was at its height. He had fiddled with the patient, clearly at a loss as to what to prescribe. He seemed more interested in Fan Yimei until Mother Liu had told him she belonged to Major Lin. He had then left with instructions that more blankets be piled on the patient. Fan Yimei ignored him. Remembering the night of her father's death and how the foreign woman in black had patiently sponged his burning body, she did the same for her friend through the long night, and in the morning the fever had broken.

Shen Ping now seemed to be on the road to recovery, although she was still weak, and sometimes Fan Yimei feared that her spirit and self-respect would never recover. Searching the listless eyes in the bruised face, she saw no sign of the cheerful, chattering farm-girl she had once known. The only time she ever showed any interest was when Fan Yimei talked of De Falang, and then she would hold her friend's hand tightly, and whisper, ‘Has he come?' Fan Yimei, hating herself, found herself inventing stories that Shen Ping's lover had called at the brothel and asked after her, and been told by Mother Liu that she was unwell but he would be able to see her when she was better. She found herself embroidering the story, telling Shen Ping that Mother Liu had tried to offer him another girl, but that he had refused angrily and stormed off. That was the only time Shen Ping had smiled. Fan Yimei told herself that it might have been true: she had heard that De Falang's friend, Lu Jincai, had been questioning some of the girls about Shen Ping; and maybe he would one day come for her himself; but in her heart, as each day passed, she had feared the worst, and now, holding the letter in her hand, she knew the truth.

The matter lay on her mind all the next day, prevailing even over the startling news that Major Lin had flung casually over his shoulder as he was dressing. He was bad-tempered and hungover when he woke, early as usual. As he straightened his uniform in front of the mirror he shouted commands to her to have a banquet prepared in the pavilion at sunset, expensive food, good wine, he would be bringing a guest; oh, yes, and tell Mother Liu to provide one of her better-looking floozies; he had left written instructions on the table. This in itself was unprecedented—he had never entertained before—but what he said as he left amazed her: ‘And make sure you wear something modest,' he told her. ‘I don't care what he does to the other trollop, but I'm not having a foreign devil ogling you.'

‘A foreign devil?' she asked. ‘De Falang?' She could not believe it.

‘No, not that ape. Another one.'

‘But you hate foreign devils.'

‘Yes. So, don't talk about it. I want this kept quiet.'

‘Do I tell Mother Liu?'

‘No. Yes, I suppose she'll have to know. But tell her to be discreet.' And he was gone.

With a heavy heart, she sought out Mother Liu to make the arrangements. Mother Liu as usual grumbled about the expense, but surprisingly she was not angry. In fact, she smiled as she slowly read Major Lin's note then tucked it into her gown. ‘He can have Su Liping,' she said, naming one of the prettier, younger girls, whom Fan Yimei knew she normally reserved for more favoured clients and who was one of her few favourites. This was perhaps due to her reputation for being one of Mother Liu's telltales. ‘I don't think little Liping's tasted barbarian meat before but there's a first time for everyone. Only the best for Major Lin and his guests. Well, go on. What are you standing staring for? Go and see to that sick slut of yours. I want her well and back to work. All this medicine and coddling is costing me money.'

Mercifully Shen Ping was asleep when Fan Yimei reached her room, and this gave her an excuse for putting off the decision to tell her about the letter. ‘When she's better,' she told herself, looking down at the sleeping head on the pillow. ‘Then I'll tell her. When she's strong. It will break her if I tell her now.' But part of her wondered whether her friend would ever be able to bear the news. It was only the thought that De Falang would rescue her that was keeping her alive now. And what sort of work would Mother Liu put her to when she did get well? She had heard stories that other girls who had been punished by Ren Ren had later been sent to the squalid rooms that he was rumoured to keep behind his dumpling shop to provide cheap services for muleteers and carters, and other riffraff of the town. If she could only get a message to De Falang and tell him the true situation. Might he reconsider? This foreigner who was coming tonight must know him. If he could deliver a letter to De Falang? She could write it today.

She sat at her desk in the afternoon, and covered a page with her neat characters. She wrote about Shen Ping's continued loyalty to De Falang through her suffering. She wrote of how it was only the thought of him that gave her the will to live. She wrote that if De Falang were to understand her true feelings then surely he would put aside whatever misunderstanding had turned him against her. She begged him, as Shen Ping's friend, to make every attempt to come to her. If only he could see her in her piteous state … If only … what? Long before she finished she realised it was useless. Sadly she put down the brush. Even if she could find a way to deliver this letter, she knew it would do no good. What did she expect of De Falang or any man? Who listened to the crying of a whore? Caged birds had more freedom. At least people loved them for their song. Who really loved a singsong girl? De Falang had sounded sincere but he was probably only fantasising, as some men liked to do, and now he had come to himself, that was all. She had his letter. She knew that one day Major Lin would tire of her. Why was she allowing herself to dream as Shen Ping had dreamed? Oh, why did she not have the courage to finish it all? She put her head on the desk and sighed.

She heard footsteps outside, and quickly brushed the unfinished letter as well as De Falang's letter into a drawer. She had no time to lock it, but she was sure that she had not been seen and was standing composed in the centre of the room when Su Liping entered.

‘Liping, it's so early. I was not expecting—'

‘Oh, Elder Sister, I couldn't resist,' chattered Su Liping. ‘All of us are so jealous of your wonderful fortune, and I wanted to see your beautiful pavilion. Oh, how lucky you are. Mother Liu said I could come early. I'm so excited that this evening they've chosen me. Oh, what beautiful silks and furnishings.'

She moved quickly round the room, touching a vase here, a carving there, running her hands over the strings of the
chin,
pressing her cheek against the brocade. ‘Mother Liu says that if the guest wants me I can take him to the pavilion opposite. It's still being prepared but I've heard it's just like this. Oh, what a beautiful bed. And the mirror! Oh, to live here.'

‘You don't mind if it's a barbarian?'

‘Well, it's scary, but sort of exciting.' She giggled. ‘And I've heard that foreign devils are very well endowed. Hope it doesn't hurt. Do you think I should take along a pot of grease? Anyway, Shen Ping was happy with her foreigner, wasn't she? Poor Shen Ping. So ill, I've heard.'

She moved close to Fan Yimei, and whispered, wide-eyed, ‘Is it true, do you think?'

‘What's true?'

‘That she was punished. In that hut. Punished by Ren Ren for doing something awful?'

‘I don't know,' said Fan Yimei.

‘I bet you do. You're her friend and the only one allowed to see her. But never mind, I know you don't gossip. I listen to all the gossip. Strange, strange things happen here. Do you know what's the latest rumour? There's a new catamite being kept in the hidden rooms upstairs. For Ren Ren. A foreign boy. Would you believe it? I'm not sure that I do, but can you imagine?'

‘You're right. I don't like to gossip. I'm sorry.'

‘Oh, don't be sorry. I don't care. The interesting thing is, a foreign boy did disappear. Some people were executed yesterday for murdering him. We watched from the window. But what if it's the same boy? Quite a coincidence, don't you think?'

Fan Yimei heard a voice calling her from outside.

‘Oh, Elder Sister, it sounds like Mother Liu. Quick, you'd better go. I'll be all right. Don't worry about me.'

Fan Yimei, conscious of the letters in the drawer, did not like to leave Su Liping alone in the room, but she had no choice. Mother Liu wanted to check the arrangements for the evening, and subjected Fan Yimei to an exhaustive and time-wasting catechism about the menu.

By the time she returned, Su Liping was luxuriating on the bed. ‘I hope the bed in the other room has a mirror,' she said. ‘Imagine being able to watch yourself doing it! You're so lucky, Elder Sister. And Major Lin's so handsome.'

‘Su Liping, you're very welcome, but Major Lin may come back before the dinner…'

‘I'm off. I'm off,' giggled the girl, jumping from the bed. ‘Oh, thank you, Elder Sister, for allowing me to be with you this evening. I'm so looking forward to it.'

The drawer in which the letters had been lying was empty. Fan Yimei sat numbly on the stool looking at the space where they had been. She did not move until the servants came in to lay the dinner. Then she moved listlessly to the side room to change.

*   *   *

A part of her recognised that Lin's guest, for a foreigner, was handsome. He was tall and strong-limbed, with a courteous manner and blue eyes that sometimes laughed and at other times looked deeply and knowledgeably into hers, as if he was trying to read her mind. He was the same type of man as Lin, a soldier, but she detected much more strength of character, and she hoped that he was a friend of Lin because she thought he would make a formidable enemy. She thought these thoughts idly as she sat in front of her
chin,
automatically playing the music Lin liked, barely conscious of what she was doing. She was composed, almost ethereal. She was not afraid. What would come would come.

At the beginning of the evening, when Lin and the foreigner were deep in conversation, she had found a moment to ask Su Liping why she had stolen the letters from the drawer. She was not angry. She was interested only intellectually. She did not think she bore a grudge against the girl.

Su Liping had avoided her eyes, and answered sullenly, ‘Mother Liu told me to search the room. She always has me spy for her. I took them because they looked unusual.'

‘But why do you do it? Spy for her, I mean.'

‘Oh, Elder Sister, she said that she would send me with Ren Ren to the hut. I don't want what happened to Shen Ping to happen to me.'

‘Did you not think that it might happen to me?'

Su Liping looked up, momentary hatred in her eyes. ‘It won't happen to you,' she hissed scornfully. ‘You're protected. So beautiful. So talented. So perfect.'

‘I'm sorry you hate me so,' said Fan Yimei. ‘Tell me,' she said. ‘Did you keep the red packet? The one with the money in it? Did you give that to Mother Liu with the letters?'

Su Liping's eyes widened with fear.

‘Don't worry,' said Fan Yimei. ‘I won't tell. But hide it. They
will
take you to the hut if they find it. Go on now. Don't worry. Pour the foreigner some more wine. Enjoy the evening. Drink a bit yourself. It helps.'

Major Lin was a stiff host. Fan Yimei could tell how at first he was trying to conceal his dislike of the foreigner, and how resentful he was that he was in the position that he had to hold a dinner for him. She guessed that he was under orders from his superiors, perhaps the Mandarin. The stranger, however, had the grace and charm to put even as prickly a person as Major Lin at ease. He was flattering and deferential. Over dinner he led Major Lin to talk about subjects that interested him, military matters about tactics and armaments, which Fan Yimei could barely follow. The man listened attentively as Lin expounded on his theories, and when he spoke himself it was with a knowledge and assurance that made Lin himself listen with concentration, recognising an expert in the field. Su Liping tried hard to catch the foreigner's attention using all the wiles in her meagre experience, resting a hand on his thigh and smiling archly whenever he looked in her direction. The foreigner smiled back indulgently, but largely ignored her, concentrating on Lin. There was a lot of talk about Japan, and towards the end of the meal the conversation seemed to focus on a mutual friend, called Taro. It surprised her that Lin even knew a Japanese, but then she remembered his enigmatic whimper of the night before when he was in his cups: ‘Tarosama. Tarosama.' She wondered how intimately Lin had known the man. At one point, when the foreigner was speaking about ‘the samurai virtues' he seemed to start and look angry, but the foreigner laughed and said he was only talking about the samurai's loyalty to a friend. What had Major Lin thought he meant? And Major Lin blushed and looked uncomfortable. The foreigner told him that he had invited this Colonel Taro to come to Shishan for a hunting trip, perhaps when the railway was completed, and this also seemed to fill Major Lin with discomfort, although he said politely that he looked forward to seeing him. They were now eating fruit at the end of the meal.