Peach Blossom Pavilion (55 page)

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Authors: Mingmei Yip

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #General

BOOK: Peach Blossom Pavilion
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Instead of saying, "We can't beat fate, but we can play along and make the most out of it. Try to be happy," as she had ten years ago, this time Mother's admonition was simply, "If your Karma is not to be a nun, Xiang Xiang, then you must follow where it leads you. I hope it will be to happiness."

Back in Peking after a tedious train ride, Ouyang didn't come to the apartment to call on me. Since I'd had a death in the family, or so he thought, it would be bad luck for him to see me, especially during Chinese New Year. I wrote him that we should see each other only after the first lunar month. This gave me ample time for making final preparations for my trip to Shanghai. Of course, I took Qing Zhen'sfu, which had protected me on the mountain. But for Peach Blossom, I brought another kind of fu-Ouyang's calligraphy. I sewed a brocade case so that the scroll would travel with the dignity it deserved. To Mama and De, the name of a powerful official would be far more magical than a Taoist charm.

To be sure I would be left alone during the long train trip, I booked a private compartment. When the train finally arrived at North Station in Shanghai, I alighted, quickly hired a car, and asked the driver to take me to the Cathy Hotel in the International Settlement. This elegant and expensive hotel was a popular place for rich guests to take courtesans. It was now a perfect match for my prestige, and would impress anyone whom I might run into from Peach Blossom. Now that I had money in my pocket and an aura of elegance and wealth emanating from me, I was sure the wind would be blowing in my direction.

For the first few days after I arrived, I did nothing but eat and rest. Dressed in my expensive gowns or sexy Western dresses, I'd glide down the black marble staircase, stroll through the hotel lobby to appreciate its gleaming pillars and mahogany furniture, then ride the elevator to the hyacinth-scented rooftop restaurant for high tea. After sensuously settling my bottom onto the gilded chair, I'd imagine myself a princess waiting for my prince-the tuxedoed, white-gloved, young and polished waiter-to come and take my order. While sipping tea thick with milk and sweetened with sugar, I'd stare at the glittering chandeliers, then the oil paintings on the wall. My mind, enthralled by the mysterious images, bold brush strokes, and rich, vibrant colors, would fly to exotic places I'd seen only in my dreams.

After I finished appreciating the beautiful, my thoughts would turn to the ugly-revenge. My mind would flip and flop, considering different plans. Should I use a knife or a gun? Should I get some poison or hire a professional? Or should I rent a car to hit and run? Then I'd look around at the other diners and wonder: Would this gray-haired, distinguished foreign gentleman at the next table ever imagine within his elegant neighbor's delicate mind blood was now splashing? Would the attentive waiter guess his dainty client was about to go on a shooting spree? I almost laughed out loud, while my eyes sent mischievous glances like imaginary bullets around the elegant hall.

However, sometimes my euphoria would deflate. What if I failed to kill Fung and instead got killed? Or what if I did kill him but failed to get away? I had no illusion that I'd be shown any mercy by the law. Yet I was resolved: If I was captured, I'd die fulfilled. I had endured being a prostitute only to find my mother and avenge my father. So when I'd achieved these, I would never put my feet inside any turquoise pavilion again. But what would come next?

I started to make small talk to the waiter, anything from the weather to business to comments on the old barbarian customers. I also tipped him four times more than necessary. The result was exactly what I'd wanted-I was treated like royalty.

Besides eating and sleeping, I'd also hire a car to take me along the bustling Nanking Road, where I'd stroll, window-shop, and watch people wearing the latest fashions, greeting each other with lucky sayings, and setting off firecrackers to welcome the Lunar New Year. I wanted to enjoy cheerful things before I'd plunge into ugly, bloody murder.

One day during my stroll, I stopped to appreciate the goods behind the windows of an antique shop. My eyes were examining the delicate vases, black ink stones, carved rhinoceros horns, and other precious objects, when I spotted something that made me gasp. Lying inconspicuously in a corner of the display were a diamond ring and a jade bracelet. In a flash I recognized Pearl's gifts, which had been lost with her qin! A wave of dizziness hit me. Some bandits must have found them in the qin and sold them-yet I'd lost the qin near Peking, not here in Shanghai.

I grasped the handle of the shop's door and steadied myself for a moment, then marched in. A middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a ruddy face hurried up to greet me.

"Miss, anything you have chosen from our shop window?"

I pointed to the two pieces of jewelry.

He invited me to sit, then went to the window and, with the ut most care, took the jewels and placed them on a felt square on the counter. "Madame, you have excellent eyes, these two pieces are of the finest quality." He picked up the diamond ring and shifted it under the sunlight slanting in through the window. The solitaire stone scattered many rainbows, as if desperately trying to tell me its adventures on the mountain. Next he took the bracelet and tilted it high to reflect the sun so I could see the jade's flawless translucency. Then he slipped the ring onto my finger and the bracelet onto my wrist. The diamond's sparkles seemed to almost blind my eyes while the jade felt cool on my skin. Caressing the stone's sensuous surface, I could almost feel Pearl's spirit shivering in its fathomless green.

Tears pooled in my eyes and I blinked them back. I looked up at Ruddy Face. "How much?"

The man clicked his pudgy fingers on the abacus, then turned to me and smiled. "Madame, since it's still Chinese New Year and you're our first customer today, I'll give you a special discountthirty gold banknotes."

"I'll take them." I knew the price was excessive but I didn't bargain because I wanted this as a gesture of honor to Pearl.

While writing the receipt, Ruddy Face stole me a few appreciative glances.

I took out the money and casually asked, "Do you happen to know the person who sold these pieces to you?"

He looked up from his reading glasses. "We acquire most of our fine jewelry from some of Shanghai's best families. However, sometimes we'll also have people who just drop in and sell, such as the owner of these two pieces. But madame, it's our policy not to reveal any sellers' identity. I apologize I cannot tell you who owned them."

Of course, he must have known perfectly well that he'd bought them from bandits but was certainly not about to admit it. Bandits often sold what they stole in a province far from their crime so they'd be less likely to be caught.

"That's all right." I smiled. "Are there other pieces that came with them?"

"No. But madame," his face glowed, "if you want more, we have other-"

I waved a dismissive hand. "I'm very happy with what I've got."

I paid, thanked him, and was about to leave when my stomach was ambushed by pangs. I turned to ask Ruddy Face, "Do you mind if I use your washroom?"

"Of course not, madame," he said, then showed me to the back of the store.

It turned out that it was not nature's emergency call. I was just overwhelmed by emotion. I studied my shocked face in the mirror, then took several deep breaths to calm myself. Soap and towels were set out on a board behind the broad sink. As I reached for the soap, I spotted something unexpected-shiny lacquer. My heart began to pound. I pushed aside the soap, the pile of towels, and a roll of toilet paper, then lifted up the "washing board."

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

I was looking at the remains of my qin, now miraculously found. It must have come with the two pieces of jewelry.

Ironically Ruddy Face, an antique dealer, was too ignorant to recognize an antique from the Ming dynasty. I caressed the instrument's still smooth surface, lost in memories of Pearl's teaching and of our life together.

Then I heard Ruddy Face's worried voice streaming through the door. "Miss, are you all right in there?"

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. "Yes. I'm fine," I said, then opened the door and stepped out.

He looked puzzled when he saw the splintered wood cradled in my arm.

I spoke before he had a chance to ask. "Can you sell me this?"

He let out a hearty laugh. "But what do you want this junk for?" Seeing that I was upset, he put on a flattering smile. "Miss, if you like it, it's yours. Our new year's gift."

"You're very kind."

"The man who sold us the jewelry left this in the store and he never came back for it. So I decided to put it in the bathroom. See," he pointed to the gin's resonance box, "it's perfect to store soap and other odds and ends." He cast me a curious glance. "But why do you want it?"

"Oh, I just like to collect old wood."

When I was back in my hotel room, I carefully cleaned the instrument, found the strings, which were still deep inside the resonance box where I'd put them for my escape, then stretched them on the soundboard. Since the qin had absorbed so much humidity, the sound was muted. Nevertheless, I was eager to play: "Remembering an Old Friend," "Lament Behind the Long Gate," "Three Variations on the Plum Blossom" .. .

The jewelry store incident set back my schedule three days during which I did nothing but play the qin while wearing Pearl's diamond ring and jade bracelet. Not until the fourth day was I able to bring my attention back to the reason I was in Shanghai. That afternoon, I soaked in the bathtub, then carefully applied makeup, put on a silk dress, and went for high tea at the rooftop restaurant. The young waiter was so delighted to see me again that he picked up my gloved hand and lifted it to his lips!

When I was performing my ritual of sipping tea, shooting flirtatious glances, and planning murder, I spotted a familiar figure hurrying toward the exit. It was Mama's maid Little Red! I asked my waiter to bring her to my table.

When Little Red saw me, her mouth dropped open as if she'd just run into a ghost in broad daylight. "Miss Precious Orchid! Where have you been? What are you doing here?!"

My waiter pulled out a chair for her and helped her sit down. Little Red, having never experienced such imperial treatment, awkwardly dumped her bottom on the chair, then knocked down the small crystal sugar bowl.

As she was about to stoop down to pick up the bowl, I rested a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Little Red, please let the waiter take care of that."

But she was still fidgeting, so I cast her a sharp glance. "Stop that, Little Red."

After the waiter finished cleaning the floor and the table, I asked for another order of tea and cakes.

Little Red was still panting from excitement, or fear. "Miss Precious Orchid, I can't stay long. I'm here to deliver a letter to one of Peach Blossom's guests."

"It's all right. If you're late, just tell Mama that you ran into me."

Her eyes widened as large as two quail eggs. "Oh, no, then you'll be in big big trouble! They've been looking for you everywhere! Mama keeps saying that if she finds you, she'll . . ." She stopped in midsentence to study me.

"She will what?"

Instead of replying to my question, she said, "Miss Precious Orchid, you look so beautiful and rich."

"Thank you. Now tell me, Mama said she will what?"

"She will whip you till your skin comes off!"

Just then the waiter came back to lay down a silver tray. After he arranged the food and drinks on the table and left, I said to Little Red, "Relax. Now eat and drink your tea."

She did. Noisily. All the foreign customers riveted their eyes on us.

When finally, like a gust of wind, she had swept away the last morsel of food and gulped down the last drop of tea, I said, "Little Red, now please listen very carefully to what I say."

She nodded, a bit of raisin on her lip synchronizing with her head's movements. I reached to pluck off the raisin. "I want you to take a message for me. When you go back to Peach Blossom, tell Mama you saw me and ask her to meet me here at this restaurant tomorrow afternoon at three-"

"But Miss Precious Orchid, they'll put you in the dark room! "

I glared at her to stop her from yelling. "No, they won't."

"They will! Miss Precious Orchid, please leave Shanghai as quickly as possible! You've always been nice to me, so please don't make me tell Mama that I saw you."

"Little Red, believe me; I know what I'm doing and I won't be in trouble."

"Are you sure?"

"Little Red, don't you remember that I'm a ming ji and have many important customers?"

She still looked too upset to respond.

I went on, "When you go back to Peach Blossom, just tell Mama and De that I have some extremely important documents to show them. And they have to come here, for I don't want to risk losing the papers. Unless they're willing to take responsibility for the loss."

She nodded. I changed the subject and asked her about Spring Moon and Aunty Ah Ping.

"Ah Ping is the same, only after you disappeared she stopped talking completely. I mean she doesn't even make sounds. But her cooking is better than ever." She paused to pick up a crumb of bread on the table and pop it into her mouth. "But Spring Moon. . . it's bad news."

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