Breaking Bamboo (35 page)

Mung Po complained that the new supervisor rarely took a patient’s pulse in the course of a whole day. But Shih could not guide Dr Tun-i’s hand to a suffering wrist. He could not place needles before the young man and advise where they might do good. He could only accept that all he had built now belonged to another and console himself with the thought that surrendering desire brought one closer to Emptiness.

There were more immediate benefits. The exhaustion he had once accepted as a natural fog, dulling every waking moment, lifted. For the first time since the start of the siege, he resumed his round of private patients.

Stepping out of Apricot Corner Court that dusk, bag on shoulder, Dr Shih felt strangely free, just as when he first arrived in Nancheng afire with youth and hope. Swifts and bats flickered between rooftops; the comforting silhouette of Wadung Mountain seemed to smile upon him.

He glanced back at the shop doorway. Cao was reaching up to wipe the lintel and he returned her wave. For the first time in many months, or at least since Lu Ying joined their household, he noticed her curves and grew confused.

Strange to think of her as a woman after so long a gap between embraces. It made him uneasy. How could he approach her naturally? Maybe she no longer cared for him and would turn to the wall in disgust.

Dr Shih’s first patient lived beyond Xue Alley near the Water Basin. As he entered that long, twisting street heads were poking out of tenement windows to summon children. For their part, the children pretended not to hear, stealing one last game before the curfew forced them indoors. Shih half-expected Carpenter Xue to hurry out and demand a consultation, but instead he was detained by a different voice.

Somewhere a woman was singing an ancient, wistful tune.

The melody reached down to him from an open window and Shih listened, his heart full of contradictory feelings:
A handsome gentleman

Waited by the gate:

How very sad I did not accompany him!

For him I wear my unlined skirt,

My skirt of brightest silk.

Oh, sir, gracious lord,

Give me a place in your coach!’

Shih realised tears were filling his eyes. Did he think of his dear mother buried far to the West and the coach that had so cruelly taken him away from her? Or was it his last glimpse of Cao as he left Apricot Corner Court? The knowledge their treasured closeness, that had once seemed as immutable as the sun, had faded with youth? He could not say. The old tune seemed a premonition of some nameless, future grief.

Then Lu Ying stole like a fluttering shadow across the image of his wife. Shih’s heart quickened. Surely that nonsense was over! He did not respect the girl. She was ignorant and foolish.

His only concern was her welfare. Yet Father sneered at him for not having possessed her. Why must he think of her so often?

A loud neighing startled Shih from these questions and he looked up in surprise at a warhorse blocking his path. Features almost identical to his own gazed down from a saddle decorated with silver and red tassels.

‘Sister-in-law told me I’d find you here,’ said Guang, dis-mounting nimbly.

The brothers examined each other in the fading light.

‘Come with me to Peacock Hill,’ said Guang. ‘I’ve ordered a banquet for us both.’

There was a note of entreaty in his voice.

‘What of Cao?’ asked Shih. ‘She will worry if I do not return.’

‘I’ve sent a message not to expect you. Here, climb up behind me! Remember how we would ride Father’s horse round the plum orchard above Three-Step-House? Only then you were the one in front. Do you remember how I clutched you?’

Shih laughed nervously.

‘I’ve grown more accustomed to walking since then,’ he said.

He finally agreed and Guang hauled him up, fastening his doctor’s bag to the pommel. They trotted through streets full of people hurrying to evade the curfew. Some looked up in surprise at the twin brothers, one in painted armour, the other wearing a humble doctor’s blue robes and grey hat At last they cantered through the gatehouse at the foot of Peacock Hill and Guang slowed the horse. He led Shih to a small, ornate pavilion with an upward-curving tiled roof. A servant hurried out to take the reins.

Two hours later they had drunk a dozen toasts to Wang Ting-bo, Wang Bai, the brave General Zheng Shun and Admiral Qi-Qi, even the Son of Heaven himself. They had dined so finely Shih almost forgot there was a siege. Wild duck dipped in sweetened vinegar. Kidneys in a sauce of bitter fruit. His head span from the wine. He said the first thing swirling among the fumes in his brain: ‘Guang, what is the cause of this? I hardly hear from you in months, though we live only a few
li
apart. Then this!’

Guang shook his head ruefully.

‘I have been at fault,’ he said. ‘It is an elder brother’s duty to guide you. But I have been too busy killing Mongols! You must forgive me.’

They laughed and Shih glanced round the splendid hall.

Carved friezes of noble banquets lined one wall. On another hung paintings and delicate calligraphy. Such fine things were quite beyond his means, though he brought people life not death.

‘Besides, I needed to see you for a reason,’ continued Guang.

‘I have been honoured, Little Brother! I am to accompany Prefect Wang Bai to the capital on a secret embassy. The fate of the Twin Cities may depend on it.’

Shih poured himself another bowl of wine, emptying it in two gulps.

‘You are to leave us?’

‘For a few months at most. We will travel overland through the siege lines, using a secret route, then join a waiting flotilla a hundred
li
further downstream. I shall return in the autumn at the head of a great force. One that shall drive the barbarians back to the borders. Then Three-Step-House and Wei Valley shall be restored to us.’

‘Wei Valley,’ said Shih, dully. ‘I think of it sometimes. I suspect even Father no longer believes it will be ours again. . .’

Shih placed his bowl on the lacquered table. A change of mood made his heavy eyelids blink.

‘Guang, when was the last time you visited Father?’ he asked.

‘Tonight, of course! Father was asleep so I could not speak to him. A great pity. Cao told me he had taken his medicine and would not wake until morning.’

‘Why not before tonight?’

Guang blinked in surprise.

‘My duties. . . I did visit him once when you and Cao were not at home. He was hiding in the tower room. How fearful of Bayke he has grown! I fear his sanity has worsened. Thank goodness he has your medicines to help him.’

‘He pours scorn on us everyday!’ broke in Shih. ‘He abuses my manhood. I tell you he is unmanageable without your influence!’

‘You should not speak of Honoured Father in that way!’

Shih laughed harshly.

‘The Honoured Father
you
neglect! Since you abandoned Father at my gate, you have visited him fewer times than I have fingers! What of me, who you also neglect? Don’t criticise me, Yun Guang! Day and night I strive to please everyone.’ He gestured wildly. ‘Everyone but myself!’

‘Little Brother! You are drunk. Your words are not proper.’

Shih chuckled as he poured and swallowed another cup. It burned his throat. He felt giddy, intoxicated by something headier than wine.

‘No,’ he said. ‘
You
are not proper, Captain Xiao! What is filial piety if not patience and respect? What reason have I for that? Don’t you remember how Father discarded me? How he abandoned me? Have you really forgotten?’

‘Little Brother!’

‘Now I will laugh! Truly I will! You still call me by that name! But you know it is a lie. I am not
Little Brother,
that name belongs to you.’

The two stared at each other, appalled. Guang’s hands were trembling as he held his half-empty cup. At last Shih looked away uneasily.

‘I am not afraid of the truth,’ he muttered.

He stared into a corner of the room. The storm that had billowed so unexpectedly died away, revealing hollowness: ‘I’m sick of this life! Sick in my being!’ he cried. ‘Whatever stern words you use can’t change that.’

Shih laughed again, his drunken eyes blinking furiously.

Anyone seeing him would not have recognised this wild, bitter man as the kindly doctor from Apricot Corner Court, who did so much good for the scantest of rewards. Yet one self flowed from and through the other.

‘My heart is empty, Guang!’ he cried. ‘That is why I am never at ease. Even with my dear Cao I am never wholly at ease!

When Father sent me away he drained my heart. . . Oh, what does it matter? We both know the truth.’

Guang’s tongue showed between his lips, as when a little child displays fear.

‘You must not speak ill of Father,’ he said. ‘I will not allow it.’

Shih steadied himself in his chair. It seemed for a moment he might fall to the floor.

‘You are drunk,’ continued Guang. ‘That is why you speak such nonsense.’

‘Yes, I am drunk.’

‘I will pretend I did not hear.’

Shih nodded. ‘Yes, let us pretend.’

‘I shall instruct some of my servants to escort you home.’

‘Very well.’

Guang hesitated before calling his men.

‘Listen, Shih, I must leave in an hour’s time. I hoped we would embrace and laugh as friends do, as dearest brothers do!

But please, look after Father in my absence. Can I trust you to protect him?’

Shih nodded sadly.

‘I’m good for that,’ he said.

But a strange glint in Shih’s eyes made Guang hesitate before he said: ‘I know you are.’

‘Then you know me better than myself.’

They parted stiffly. The night became a floating world of lanterns on poles and tramping feet. Shih shivered inwardly.

Guang would never forgive him for speaking aloud their family’s shameful secret. One was only permitted to brood over such things, year after year, until the spirit wearied of itself.

He sobered a little as Apricot Corner Court came into view.

Despite the late hour a carriage waited on the street. Several soldiers of the City Watch stood guard.

The curtains of the carriage lifted as Shih approached, revealing Dr Fung’s anxious face. He had not seen him since the day Dr Du Mau ordered an inspection of the Relief Bureau.

‘Dr Shih!’ called out Fung in his soft, fluttering voice. ‘I have been sent by Dr Du Mau who has instructed me, in his capacity as head of the guild. . . Why, I beg you to come closer to the carriage.’

Shih noticed Cao’s frightened face looking through the shop window. He felt an impulse to rush back to Guang and implore his protection, but it was too late for that.

Dr Fung held open the carriage door and Shih peered unsteadily into the dark box, his nostrils detecting an acrid odour. Then he recognised Dr Fung’s companion and understood at once what such a presence meant. How the journey from old Dr Ou-yang’s medicine shop in the capital had always been destined to end this way, that
karma
was remorseless. The alcohol and rich food in Shih’s stomach churned; for a moment he struggled against nausea. Suddenly harsh hands were dragging him away and he vomited over his own clothes.

‘Lesson 24. The Capital! Centre of the Five Directions! On one side lies the West Lake, startlingly clear, and on the other a broad river rich and cloudy with sediment! (
Yang
lake,
yin
river). Canals pattern the districts into lattices of dense, tall wooden houses. One can traverse the city by means of these canals quite as quickly as by the roads. (
Water element
: canal;
Earth element
; road). All the natural laws are followed where the Son of Heaven dwells!’

From an untitled woodcut primer, intended for students studying the First Examination.

*

Linan, Eastern China. Summer, 1267

Guang approached the capital on a paddle-driven destroyer. They had made swift progress from the Yangtze, following the Grand Canal south. The coolies cranked the paddle shafts under the watchful eye of their overseer. The Wang family banner of three yellow chrysanthemums flew from prow and stern. No one recognised it as a noble symbol. Indeed, one wastrel, leering down from the balustrade of a high curved bridge, had enquired whether they belonged to the ‘Chrysanthemum Brigade’, meaning prostitutes trained to sing ‘southern style’. Guang had to be restrained by Chen Song from leaping ashore to administer a beating.

At last, after weeks on the river, their flotilla entered the outer suburbs of Linan, the Empire’s capital, seat of Heaven’s Chosen Son, and Guang had succumbed to awe. Though he had visited many great cities nothing had prepared him for Linan’s sheer scale. The outer walls stretched for
li
after
li
. High houses and low, warehouses and grand markets, people scurrying after ten thousand kinds of reward. Guang’s attention was drawn to the military encampments they passed.

It seemed most of His Highness’s army had gathered round the capital though the Mongols were attacking far to the north west. The soldiers looked listless, reduced by boredom to ill-discipline.

‘Sir,’ he said, seeking out Wang Bai, who lolled in state on a high-backed chair beneath a splendid silk awning. ‘How is it so many regiments are here?’

Wang Bai’s smooth face flickered with a darker emotion.

‘It is a question my noble uncle has raised in several memoranda to His Majesty.’

Guang waited for more but Wang Bai waved him away and resumed his steady, watchful brooding. He joined Chen Song at the prow. The scholar-soldier seemed inspired by the bustle and prosperity all around them.

‘Here one may glimpse why we gladly suffer at the front,’ remarked Chen Song. ‘These scenes of order and peace confirm His Highness enjoys the Mandate of Heaven.’

‘Many defectors to the Great Khan disagree,’ replied Guang, quite as formally. ‘They ask, how may one explain our reverses on the frontier? Or the loss of our ancestral lands?’

Chen Song shook his head.

‘Such turncoats are vile traitors.’

‘As for me,’ continued Guang. ‘I believe these prosperous people you admire have no idea how we suffer on their behalf.