Bride of the Moso Prince (14 page)

             
“What are you looking at, me or the scenery?” He asked suddenly with that teasing smile.

             
Instead of denying, Sharon teased him back, “I don’t see the difference between the two. Aren’t you part of the scenery?”

             
His eyes glittered fiercely, “In that case,” he said and promptly undid the top buttons of his shirt. The smooth brown skin shone in the morning sun.

             
Sharon felt weak instantly. She inhaled the cool air of the lake to soothe the burning sensation in the middle of her belly.

             
Then she asked defensively, “How do your lovers feel about it when you flirt with tourists?”

             
Nobul laughed, “I can’t answer that question.”

             
“Why not?” Sharon became curious.

             
“First of all, I don’t have any lover, second, I don’t flirt with any tourist.”

             
“Then I don’t see how you earned your fist nickname.”

             
“It has nothing to do with my nickname. They call me Prince because I’m the grandson of the Empress.”

             
“Then how come Urcher wasn’t called Prince?”

             
He grinned, “Ok, you got me. Yes, they gave me the nickname for other reasons. And frankly, I don’t deserve it. And I would appreciate it if you won’t call me by that again.”

             
“Sure, Prince.” Sharon smiled triumphantly.

             
Nobul shook his head, “Do you always win when you argue with your boyfriend?”

             
“Unfortunately no.” Sharon said nonchalantly, “because I don’t have a boyfriend.”

             
“And I can see why.” Nobul nodded.

             
“You!” Sharon was agitated by that smug on his face, “it’s not that I can’t have any but I don’t care for boyfriends.”

             
“And I can see why again!”

             
“Oh really? Care to enlighten me?”

             
“You don’t want anyone to lead you by the nose.”

             
That was exactly right. But Sharon refused to admit. “It’s because I haven’t found any one who’s qualified to lead me by the nose.”

             
He laughed heartily and said in a low and earnest voice that made her tremble again, “no one will ever be qualified for that.”

             
They had been on water for nearly an hour when they approached Empress Island, the largest of the half dozen islands on the lake. Nobul told her that all of the islands were uninhabited but as a child he had frequently visited them with other boys, especially when they didn’t feel like going to school. They would catch fish and water snakes, shoot birds and steal bird eggs, and that sort of naughty things. His eyes beamed with a childish excitement as he told her about those experiences.

             
Nobul got off the boat first and pulled it towards the land. After he docked the boat against a big rock, he held out his hand to Sharon. “Come on.”

             
Sharon wanted to do it without his help but nearly lost her balance as the boat was swaying a bit under her weight. She thrust her hand into his in a panic and he pulled her to his side. Their body was inches away from each other. The warmth of his body permeated her skin in an instant and caused a turbulence in her body. She jerked away quickly, avoiding his eyes.

             
The island was in a natural state with dense trees and shrubs. The went on a path that was barely perceptible in a distance.

“Were you looking for bird’s nests yesterday? Your brother said you were in the Island.”

“No, I’m too old for that.” He laughed. “I was working on a project.”

             
“A project?”

             
“Yes. We are innovating the Chief’s house.”

             
“The Chief, your grandfather?”

             
“Yes. He and his last wife, or the Empress, lived here before they were imprisoned by the communists. The government had just agreed to return us the proprietorship of the island.” He paused and added, “After getting lots of cash from us, of course.”

             
Sharon nodded. Money was the only way to get th
ings done in most of societies.
“Still, that’s wonderful! Are you, your family going to move in there?”

             
“I don’t think so. It’s inconvenient, being so far from our fields and the hotel.”

             
“Then what are you doing with the house?”

             
“We’re going to make it into a museum.”

             
“A museum?”

             
“Yes. Moso cultural museum.”

             
“I want to see it!”

             
“You’ll in a moment. But it’s barely ready. It needs lots of work.”

             
Excited by what she was about to see. Sharon quickened her paces.

             
The late chief’s residence was on the top of the hill.

             
Among the pines, a yellow roof shone under the sun. Before they reached the house Sharon saw a prayer structure, called the Mani dome in the woods, decorated by colorful prayer flags. There were apples near the dome and remnants of burned branches inside.

             
Nobul closed his palms and muttered a prayer in front of the structure before they moved on. Then he told her that every first and fifteenth of the month the Moso would visit all the islands on the lake and offer incense and pay respect to Goddess Gemu.

The house was stately even though it was under renovation.
The
iron
gate had been recently repainted, with remnants of stone lions on each side. Nobul said he was still looking for replacements. The yard was huge, but nothing was planted except some weeds here and there, and some piles of planks. The house
had the same
structure as Shangari-la
, but it was
smaller and had only two storages
.
There were two layers of roofs. The carved pillars and the railings of veranda had been newly painted.

As they crossed the yard Sharon saw that
under
the weeds was a paved ground and the surface was chiseled with
intricate
design.

“It’s Nakhi art.” Nobul explained.
“My grandfather hired the artist from Lijiang. But now half of the picture is blurred.” Nobul brushed away the weeds to let Sharon see.
Sharon
recognized a bird with wings spread, a fish, and some strange symbols.

“What’s that writing? Looks like pictograph in ancient times.”

“It’s Dongba, Nakhi language. Yes it’s a kind of pictograph. I don’t know what it means either. A professor from Southwest Ethnic University told me they were auspicious words.”

“Intriguing!” Sharon’s eyes lingered on the art on the ground for a moment longer and looked up at the house again.

             
The
porch pillars were
all
carved. The one by the main entrance of the yard was carved with dragons and phoenix.

             
“Do Moso believe in Dragon and phoenix too?” Sharon asked.

             
“No. But the Empress was Han.”

             
“That’s right.” Sharon remembered what Charlene had told her the other night.
             
“Tell me about her, please.”

             
Nobul’s eyes gleamed
. “Ok, but let’s sit down
first
.” He led her to a stone bench in the center of the yard.

“She was actually an ambassador.  The Han wanted the Moso chief’s to help in controlling the bandits along the Silk Road, so they suggested a marriage of alliance. My grandfather refused at first since he thought marriage of convenience was distasteful and he had no desire of taking in a Han woman against the walking marriage custom. But the Han persisted. A caravan carrying loads of ammunition and other necessities such as salt, tea, and silverwares arrived our land one day, along with a match maker with the pictures of a dozen young women.  After thinking through the mutual benefits, my grandfather agreed on a marriage. He didn’t pick the most beautiful girl, but the most talented one since in his mind, he was choosing a business partner. My grandmother Ming had been the best student in her high school, had won the competitions in singing, dance, and speech.”

             
“So it was a loveless, arranged marriage?” Sharon grimaced.

             
“It was going to be,” Nobul’s smiled and continued to recount the story, “if Ming, my grandmother, hadn’t also had the talent for rebellion.”

             
“Oh?” Sharon was interested.

             
“Ming was a sixteen year old high school girl when she heard the news of her betrothal, and she wouldn’t accept it.
But her father Captain Liao of Guomindang army, had to obey the order from the general.
A month after the chief set out for
his journey to meet his Han brid
e, Ming ran away from home.”

             
“She did?”

             
“Yes. She had planned to join the revolutionist movement after high school. But the engagement became a good reason to expedite her dream. It was the first time she had ever gotten to the train station alone, and she got on a wrong train. The train took her to the borders of Cool Mountains. And near the town of Muli she was captured by the bandits who were going use her to get ransoms from her family. And as if the Goddess had planned every event, the chief’s caravan ran into the bandits soon after. Although the bandits, recognizing the chief, had attempted to avoid him, Ming managed to scream and got my grandfather’s attention.  He fought the bandits and rescued Ming.”

             
“And then they fell in love right away?” Sharon was fascinated.

             
“Not yet. The chief didn’t recognize her at that moment for she was in boy’s clothes and was pretty disheveled. But after she had related her story to him, he knew it. He was distressed, knowing what his decision had done to her. So he told her who he was and that he would cancel the engagement as soon as they got to the city.”

“It took them another two weeks on their way. And by the time they were in the city, they had both fallen madly in love with each other.”

             
“I can’t imagine the
surprise in Ming’s parents the
moment they showed up in front of them.” Sharon said dreamily. “You didn’t make this up, did you?”

             
“No, not a word. Ming recorded the story herself after she had gotten married.”

             
“Did she ever regret afterwards? For marrying that womanizer of your grandfather?”
             

             
“The chief might have been a womanizer before he had met Ming, but after that he was different. Living on the island alone with Ming was a proof of his devotion.” He said earnestly.

             
“Did he build a house for each of his lovers?” Sharon asked carelessly.

             
“No,” Nobul said, “he followed the walk-marry custom with other women. But my grandmother was different. She came to this place alone, leaving her family behind. She had no chance of visiting them either. Our land was nearly inaccessible to the outsiders back then. She herself got sick and nearly died on their journey here, which was two months on horseback in the mountains.”

             
The Empress had sacrificed enormously for the marriage. Besides her family, she had to give up school which she loved. She had also given up luxuries of the city. For an army captain’s daughter, it wasn’t an easy thing to do.

             
“Your grandmother,” Sharon said with respect, “was courageous.”

             
“And romantic too,” Nobul added softly, “she wouldn’t have come at all that if she hadn’t fallen in love with my grandfather.”

             
His eyes locked on hers as he said that. Sharon became self conscious. The story was so romantic that it sounded unreal. Could it be that he was making it up to tease her? Why would he do that? He wasn’t suggesting that she should … Oh no. It couldn’t be. She blushed and looked away. After a moment’s silence she heard Nobul’s voice again.

“She’s done so much for the Han. And yet received virtually no recognition for it. Instead, she was condemned and jailed for over a decade for simply being the wife of a chief, an element of the old society, during cultural revolution. And then she lived in poverty for the rest of her life.”