Three Souls (10 page)

***

The rustle of duck wings in the reeds, the coolness of the stone seat, these were preferable to plunging back into the noise and heat of the wedding banquet. The applause was already more raucous; whistles and calls punctuated the clapping. I decided instead to look in on the smaller dining hall at the other end of the lake, where I had taken Fei-Fei and Changyin’s little children earlier that day. There, away from the main celebrations, the youngest guests were served food more to their taste, and could make as much noise as they pleased.

The din from the main hall subsided as I brushed past shrubs and greenery, my footsteps silent on the hard dirt path around the lake. Closer to the pavilion, I heard murmuring voices, saw shadowy shapes partially hidden behind carved screens. The words grew more distinct as I neared.

“Have you never been kissed before, darling?” A man’s voice, followed by an indistinct reply.

Another romantic tryst. With so much activity at a wedding, it was easy for guests and even servants to slip away for a few minutes of courtship. I closed my eyes with pleasure at the memory of Hanchin and slowed down to enjoy the scent of the honeysuckle growing beside the path. And to eavesdrop a little.

“Come, sit on my lap.” That same voice, somehow familiar. “There, now you can kiss me, you pretty, pretty—”

“May I go now? Nanny said I was to keep an eye on the little ones.”

I froze. I knew that confident young voice. Before I could speak, a small figure in pink tunic and trousers emerged from the pavilion. I didn’t need to see her face as she skipped away over the zigzag bridge and onto the path toward the children’s dining hall. I moved to follow, then ducked behind a rhododendron as a tall figure stepped out of the pavilion and tugged down his jacket. He strolled past me and disappeared in the direction of the main dining hall.

It was Cha Zhiming.

The zigzag bridge hadn’t protected the pavilion from evil spirits.

***

The small dining hall, despite the best efforts of the nannies, was chaotic, filled with those ear-splitting shrieks that only children of a certain age can produce. Amid the tables, there was a game of tag in progress, and one small boy bawled in his nanny’s arms while she rubbed his knee.

“Was that you in the pavilion a few minutes ago, Fei-Fei?” I grabbed my half-sister as she ran past.

She nodded, seemingly untroubled, fidgeting to get back to the chase. My heart resumed its normal beat.

“Fei-Fei, where’s your Nanny Wong?”

“She wanted roast duck. She went to the kitchens.”

“Who’s looking after you and our nephews and nieces, then?”

“Nanny Wong said there’re so many servants around, we’d be all right for a while.”

“Well, I’ll stay here with you until she comes back.”

I smoothed her hair and straightened her tunic before she dashed away to rejoin the game. Then I settled in a chair to watch the unruly youngsters and wait for the delinquent Nanny Wong.

When I returned to the wedding, everyone’s eyes were on the actress Li Minghui. She was Liu Tienzhen’s favourite film star, we’d been told, and had been hired to sing at the wedding. Sueyin and Tienzhen were seated at a table beside the dais, which now served as a stage where Li Minghui was performing a
huangmei diao
from a traditional folk opera, accompanied by a two-stringed
erhu.
Tienzhen was holding Sueyin’s hand and smiling with delight, his head swaying in time to the song. Gaoyin was at the same table.

“Where is Stepmother?” I whispered to her.

“At that table by the window. Why?” Then she saw my distress and followed me.

A few minutes later, we were all together, Stepmother sitting in a curved armchair of elm wood, while Gaoyin sank into a loveseat. We were in the dressing room where we had helped Sueyin adjust her heavy bridal clothing just hours ago.

I took a deep breath before speaking. “I have to tell you something, Stepmother. It’s about Second Brother’s friend, that Cha Zhiming.”

“The young man who was so kind to Fei-Fei?”

“I went for a walk by the lake, to . . . to look in on the children. I overheard a man in the pavilion trying to seduce someone. It was Cha Zhiming.”

Gaoyin yawned. “So you overheard a young man trying to steal a kiss.”

“But he wasn’t trying to seduce a woman. It was our Fei-Fei.”

Gaoyin’s eyes snapped wide open.

Stepmother stood up with a gasp. “What did he do to her?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Stepmother. I don’t think he had time to do much because she skipped out of the pavilion. You know how quickly Fei-Fei gets bored.”

“Where was Nanny Wong?” Gaoyin asked, her expression grim.

“Scrounging for food in the Lius’ kitchens. You can be sure I gave her a good speech when she returned. Enough to send her into tears.”

I knelt beside Stepmother, who had sunk back down into the chair, and tried to reassure her.

“I’m sure he didn’t do anything to Fei-Fei. When I found her in the children’s dining hall, she looked fine. She just wanted to get back to playing with the others. I’m sure she didn’t understand what was happening.”

“Did Cha Zhiming see you, Third Sister?”

“No. When he came out, I hid behind a shrub. That’s when I saw it was him.” I tugged at Stepmother’s hand. “We must tell Father. He would forbid Cha from ever coming to our home.”

But she shook her head slowly.

“General Cha is a very powerful man,” Stepmother said. “Powerful and vindictive, they say. We must not be perceived as hostile to him, or even let on we’re privy to knowledge that might shame him—such as his son’s despicable cravings. These are dangerous times and families are being ruined over lesser slights.”

I had no idea Stepmother knew anything about General Cha or the political climate of the country. She never said anything when my father and brothers aired their opinions.

“You’re right, Stepmother,” Gaoyin said. “It would be easy to bring this family down now that Tongyin has fallen in with Yen Hanchin. Just a few rumours planted here and there.”

“I think we’re safe, thanks to your father’s stature in this city,” Stepmother said. “And now we also have the Liu family as in-laws. But in the future, who knows? The longer this civil war drags on, the more obsessed our Nationalist government grows about traitors. They see Communist spies behind every tree.”

“But surely no one takes Tongyin seriously,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Everyone knows he is lazy and without ambition. How could he be a threat?”

“Your brother lacks convictions of his own,” Stepmother said. “So he embraces those of others with great fervour but without true understanding. That sort of fervour can be manipulated.”

“He admires Yen Hanchin. Nothing more.”

Stepmother looked at me as if to say something, then stopped. “Thank you for the warning, Leiyin. Please don’t say anything to your father. You know how he is when he gets angry. He’d react impulsively, unwisely. This is a situation we women must handle delicately, from the inner courtyard.”

“But, Stepmother—”

“Please, Third Stepdaughter. Fei-Fei is my daughter. Let me be the one to make this decision.”

“I will abide by your decision, Stepmother,” Gaoyin said, standing up to rejoin the party. “Leiyin, so will you.”

5

B
etween my concern about Fei-Fei and giddy memories of my time alone with Hanchin, it was nearly dawn by the time I fell asleep. Even though the dining room gong sounded an hour later than usual, I was late for breakfast, dawdling as I dressed and staring dreamily into the mirror. Would anyone be able to tell I was now a woman? That I knew how it felt to be embraced, to have my face caressed and kissed? It seemed as though bliss, and not blood, travelled through my veins.

Changyin and Shen were downing huge bowls of congee as though they hadn’t eaten a fourteen-course banquet the night before. Since so many of the wedding preparations and activities were under Gaoyin’s supervision, Shen and Gaoyin had received permission from his parents to stay with us on this visit instead of at his family’s estate.

Stepmother and Gaoyin were at the second table. There were no children in sight.

“The children are still overexcited. They hardly slept at all,” Stepmother answered when I asked after them.

Gaoyin greeted me with a nod from over her plate of toast and jam. I sat beside Stepmother and chewed on a corner of cold toast. Tongyin wandered in, hair dishevelled and eyes half open. He sat beside Shen at the other table, his back to me.

“The Liu family spared no expense,” Shen said. “Judge Liu told me Li Minghui and her staff travelled first class on the train from Shanghai.”

“She was very charming.” Gaoyin stifled a yawn. “Li Minghui told Tienzhen that Sueyin was more beautiful than all the leading ladies of Chinese cinema put together.”

“Tienzhen told me he admires Father’s literary salons,” Changyin said. “He wants to hold salons too, but for the film industry. To encourage young actors and actresses.”

Tongyin finally came to life after his third cup of tea. “Can you imagine calling a gathering of film actors a salon? Fortunately Hanchin said something very tactful. He suggested calling the events soirees instead.”

“So Yen Hanchin is a friend of the Liu family?” Father asked.

“They’re related, Father. Distantly, but of course the Lius are honoured to have a well-known poet and scholar in their family circle.”

I could have thrown my arms around Tongyin.

My brother spoke again. “There might be another betrothal in our family soon. Yes, very soon, possibly.” Tongyin sat up to assess the impact of his statement, his expression smug.

Had Hanchin confessed his feelings for me to Tongyin? It was too soon, Father wasn’t ready yet to accept a poor poet into the family. I held my breath, the knot in my stomach struggling against the flutter of hope in my heart.

Father slapped his knee. “Tell me more, Second Son. Weddings beget weddings, they say.”

“Father, yes. You’re correct. I had a conversation last night with Cha Zhiming. You know his father is General Cha.”

The knot was winning now. Had Cha Zhiming made a bid for my hand?

“General Cha?” Father sounded pleased.

“Yes, Father. Yes. Cha Zhiming is his eldest son, by his first wife. General Cha has younger sons by his second wife. Zhiming suggested matching his eleven-year-old half-brother with Fei-Fei, and the General agreed. None of this is official until the matchmaker approaches you, of course. But we’re good friends, so Zhiming told me. Informally, of course.”

I opened my mouth, but Stepmother laid a warning hand on mine.

Father beamed at Stepmother. “Well, what do you think of little Fei-Fei marrying into the Cha family?”

Fei-Fei was only the daughter of a concubine, a younger daughter of minor stature. Any son of General Cha was highly eligible. She could do far worse in the matchmaking stakes.

“She’s still quite young,” Stepmother replied in an even, unruffled voice. “Isn’t it unusual nowadays to make these approaches so early?”

“Stepmother,” said Tongyin, “you’re right. Quite right. But the General obeys his mother’s every wish. Old Madame Cha wants the General to settle her grandsons’ marriages before she dies. It would be unfilial of him to refuse.”

“Hmmm.” Father looked approving. Stepmother, merely thoughtful. She put some fruit on my plate and shot me another look.

“Father, there is one more thing,” continued Tongyin. “A small thing. Zhiming tells me that the Cha family likes their future daughters-in-law to stay at their family home for a few weeks every year before the marriage.”

Again, Stepmother had to put a restraining hand on my arm. Gaoyin frowned at me and mouthed the words “Keep quiet.”

“But I thought Old Madame Cha was a very traditional lady,” Stepmother said, her voice mild and steady. “Isn’t she afraid her grandson and Fei-Fei will meet before the wedding?”

Tongyin nodded. “She is, definitely. She’s very traditional. Fei-Fei won’t meet the boy. Old Madame Cha just wants to get to know the girls because she’s afraid she won’t live long enough to see her younger grandsons’ weddings.”

The fear inside me rose higher. Fei-Fei couldn’t be allowed near that family.

“Well, well,” Father said. “Let’s wait and see what happens. Plans made over wedding wine may come to nothing.”

“What about Cha Zhiming?” I asked Tongyin. “Why is he still unmarried?”

“Unmarried, yes, but his fiancée has been staying with them for a month each year since she was a girl. When Zhiming graduates, they’ll get married.”

Then he tilted his chair back and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Don’t worry, Little Sister, all isn’t lost. I’ll ask Zhiming to make you his concubine!”

I didn’t bother telling him how badly he had misinterpreted my look, for now Stepmother rose from her seat.

“Please excuse me. I would like to take a stroll. After all that food last night, I think a long walk around the Old Garden is in order.”

I stood up. “I’ll walk with you. Gaoyin, why not come with us?”

***

The Old Garden had been designed as a retreat, with secluded spots where one could sit quietly to compose poetry or read. This we knew from a plan of the garden that had been drawn by the anonymous landscaper one of our ancestors had hired to create it. Halfway around the lake, an embankment of turf was planted with stands of oleander and pine that cast their shade onto the path. Together we ascended its ridge to where an ancient pine shaded a row of stone seats. A pungent resinous scent rose up to greet us as we walked over a layer of brittle needles.

“Tongyin has no idea what a monster that friend of his—” I began.

“Never mind Tongyin,” Gaoyin interrupted. “The question is, how can we keep Fei-Fei away from the Cha family?”

“We could reject that once-a-year visit,” I suggested.

“Not good enough. We’d have to tell Father why. And anyway, if Father agrees to even an afternoon visit, she would be in danger. The big question is how to avoid marriage to that family altogether.”