Three Souls (14 page)

My
hun
soul pats me gently on the back. Its touch is cool.
Gaoyin is like everyone else in the Song family. She keeps her promises. Even if she had her doubts after promising you she would help, Gaoyin would have felt honour-bound to follow through.

I wish she hadn’t
, I say, feeling dry ghost tears slide down my cheeks.
I wish she had changed her mind. What if Shen takes a concubine because of this?

***

In the morning, a house servant saw us out of the apartment. We took the morning train, a silent trio. Nanny Qiu was so terrified of being accused of taking part in the conspiracy she forgot to feel nauseated. It was early evening when we arrived back at Changchow station, where I had begun my journey only two days ago. When the motorcar brought us home, the street was quiet. Passersby were hurrying home to dinner and paid us no attention. Lao Li opened the gate to let us in, shaking his head as we drove past.

With steely fingers, Changyin steered me by the elbow to Father’s study, where Tongyin sat, looking despondent. His expression changed immediately when he saw me, fury in his eyes and accusation on the tip of his tongue, but he said nothing. Then Father entered, followed by Stepmother.

I knelt, my forehead on the silk carpet, still hoping for a reprieve. To my surprise, Tongyin fell to his knees beside me. Then a quick whistling noise and a thud. I sensed Tongyin’s body jerk slightly but he made no sound. I counted ten lashes of the cane for my brother and shuddered. What did Tongyin have to do with my misadventure? Surely Father couldn’t blame him. First Gaoyin, now Tongyin, punished for my sins.

“Get up now, Second Son. Stay beside your sister, but sit up.”

Trembling, but determined not to cry out, I waited for the beating to begin.

“In another household,” my father said, in a voice I barely recognized, “a disobedient daughter would be beaten. But we are educated people.”

I spent the next hour on my knees, eyes lowered to the ground, as my father lashed out with words instead of a bamboo cane.

For her role in my attempted escape, Father banned Gaoyin from our home.

He blamed Tongyin for taking me to that first lecture by Hanchin and bringing me into contact with bad influences. He forbade Tongyin from any further dealings with Hanchin,
China Millennium,
or any left-wing groups. If Tongyin disobeyed, it would cost him his allowance.

Then there were my letters to Hanchin. The mere fact that I had written letters to a man was damning proof of my infatuation.

“Did that man encourage your sister’s affections, Tongyin? What do you know about this?”

“There is no such possibility, Father, none at all. Yen Hanchin only tolerated her letters out of courtesy and because of his friendship with me. He never wrote back.”

Father berated me for taking advantage of the privileges he’d allowed me.

He said I had abused his broad-minded tolerance.

He accused me of being irresponsible, spoiled, stubborn, and deceitful.

He called me unfilial.

My father shouted all this and more, pacing on the carpet, his fury at high tide. The cane whistled through the air but never hit me. Finally, he ceased the stream of invectives and sat down, almost panting.

“You must leave in the morning for your business trip.” Stepmother spoke into the silence. “Please, sir, you must get some rest. Jiaxing is a long journey by riverboat.”

“Yes, I have wasted enough time on this useless girl. Tongyin, go find Lu and have him assemble the house staff downstairs in the foyer.”

Tongyin dashed out of the study. Our head servant must have been close by, for in moments, my brother returned to report the servants were ready.

Father pulled me to my feet and out to the mezzanine by the staircase. Below us, the servants waited. I saw Nanny Qiu hiding behind our cook, a large man. My father’s words to the staff made it perfectly clear I was no better than a prisoner.

“During my absence, Third Young Mistress will be confined to her room. Bring her only two meals a day of the plainest food. Give her nothing to read and do not speak to her.”

Then my father dragged me by the arm along the corridor, Stepmother and my brothers following. He threw open my bedroom door and flung me inside. The soles of my shoes slipped on the polished floorboards. I stumbled against the edge of a rug and fell forward, my hands outstretched. If I hadn’t been wearing my travel jacket, there would have been bruises on my arm from where Father had gripped me.

I lay prone with my cheek on the floor, listening. The door slammed and there was a jingle of keys, a click of the lock. My father’s departing footsteps were muffled, for he was wearing slippers, but the thump of his cane resounded like a battering ram as he retreated down the corridor. Slowly I sat up on the rug, rubbing my sore elbow.

I considered my situation. My being locked in my room meant Father still hadn’t decided how to punish me. He’d have a week away to think about it. My hopes began to rise. Father always calmed down after an initial burst of fury.

Confined to my room, I had ample time to ponder my mistakes. I should have been more patient. I should have persuaded him to let me go to university, if not this year, then next. I shouldn’t have raised the subject of a career. I should have said I just wanted the experience of living on campus, of being surrounded by other clever and educated girls. I could have won my battle in small, incremental stages. But in my eagerness to impress Hanchin, I’d been reckless and impetuous.

Father would return from his trip downriver with his temper quite restored, I decided. I would beg his forgiveness, and life would continue as usual—so long as I didn’t mention university again.

Then there was Hanchin. He wouldn’t be invited to our home ever again. With Nanmei gone, I wouldn’t be able to get any letters to him. Perhaps I could bribe one of the maids to carry out that errand, but did I even want to burden him with the knowledge that I’d suffered my father’s wrath for his sake?

But that was another problem, to be dealt with another day. I had to gather my wits and reflect on how to conduct myself when Father returned.

***

Father hadn’t inspected my room before he threw me inside. Under the bed was a stack of books I’d been meaning to read. I read during the daylight hours and spent the nights, before falling asleep, with my thoughts: romantic daydreams about Hanchin, tragic farewells, and ecstatic greetings at train stations.

By the third day, a certain routine had been established. First, one of the house servants arrived with a clean chamber pot and exchanged it for my used one. Another brought a fresh jug of hot water for the enamel wash basin. Then Nanny Qiu came to deliver breakfast and remove the previous night’s supper tray. In the evening, Nanny and another servant came, Nanny with my supper on a tray, the servant with a fresh jug of water for the basin and a clean chamber pot. In between, silence.

At noon of the fourth day of my incarceration, I heard unexpected footsteps in the corridor. I tucked my novel under the mattress and lay down on the bed. When the door opened, it was Tongyin. He closed the door and leaned against it, looking down at me in a way that made me sit up, instantly wary.

“You’ve ruined my life, you selfish little slut.” A voice that could have sliced flesh.

I flinched at his words but didn’t reply.

“I take you to one lecture and you thank me by causing all this trouble.”

This was irrational and I didn’t bother answering.

“You’ve been writing to Hanchin. How dare you bother him with your schoolgirl questions?”

He crossed the room in a rush and pinned me down to the bed by my wrists. I cried out, more shocked than afraid. I struggled, but my legs were wedged between his knees. I could only kick my feet helplessly at the air.

“Are you delusional? Do you actually think he cares about you? You’ve been pestering him!”

“I wasn’t pestering him! He said I could write to him any time.”

“He was being polite, you idiot. Did you think he kept your letters tied up in a packet with pink ribbons? He doesn’t care about you. If he pretended to, then like every other man in Changchow, it’s only because of your dowry.”

“No. He’s not like that.” Furious, I struggled some more.

This time, he let go of my wrists and stood up. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, thin and pale blue.

“Well, he has written you a note. I saw him this morning.”

He flipped the paper onto the bed and I snatched it up. Although I was longing to read the note, I wouldn’t, not in front of Tongyin. Undoubtedly he’d already read it.

“But you’re not supposed to see him any more than I am.”

“I can’t help it if he walks into the noodle shop where I’m having lunch.”

Tongyin didn’t frequent noodle shops any more than he went to the public library. I looked at him sideways. He scowled and went to the door.

“I had to see him again, to tell him face to face that Father has forbidden me to associate with him. No more
China Millennium,
no more lecture schedules. I said Father didn’t like you writing to him and that this has all been your fault.”

“Did he ask about me? Did you tell him I tried to run away?”

“Why should I discuss our family scandals with an outsider? I told him you won’t be going to university in Hangchow. Then he scribbled this for you.”

“I’m truly sorry, Second Brother. I know how much working at the magazine meant to you.”

His face twisted. “Damn the magazine.” He slammed the door. A jingle of keys.

***

Well, he managed to hide his feelings quite well.
My
yin
soul sounds sarcastic. She sprinkles crushed star anise into the air, so strong I can taste it. She sits cross-legged on the terrace and pats the floor beside her. I join her there.

I don’t see how I ruined his life. It was my future that was in tatters.

Oh dear,
says my
hun
soul.
You didn’t understand it then, but now do you really not see?

Together we examine the memory again and this time I look more closely at my brother’s face and at mine. Our expressions are identical, sorrow and loss barely hidden beneath anger and self-pity. Tongyin’s eyes glisten in his handsome face. He had been close to tears before storming out of the room. Perhaps he’d stormed out in order to hide his tears.

Oh. How could I not have guessed?
I say very slowly.
We were both in love with the same man.

My
yang
soul opens his mouth as though to say something, then stops. Instead he ambles down the steps to the garden and vanishes into the bamboo grove. There is a taste of dry salt fish in my mouth, so intense it’s almost bitter, and I understand that his apprehensions are as strong as my own. The reasons for our unease, however, are probably quite different.

Do you think Hanchin suspected Tongyin was in love with him?
I ask my
yin
and
hun
souls.

What do you think?
my
hun
soul asks, quite gently.

***

As soon as Tongyin slammed the door, I unfolded the pale blue notepaper:

Dear Miss Song,

I was sorry to learn you won’t be attending university. Your spirit and intellect would have been equal to the challenge. You would have made a fine teacher. Please remember that school isn’t your only avenue for education, for learning is a lifelong endeavour.

You may lose all that you acquire, but knowledge and wisdom remain yours forever.

Sincerely, Yen Hanchin

I hadn’t expected any open words of affection. After all, he knew that Tongyin would read his message and that if Father intercepted a love letter I would be disgraced even more. No, this was as much as he could write and I was satisfied. I read the lines over and over again, trying to divine a hidden message. He was using
education
to represent our love. He was saying there could be other avenues, other ways for us to be together sometime, and then it would be for a lifetime. He was mine forever. I fell on the bed, sobbing, consumed by my need to be in his arms. The ache in my heart filled me with despair even as I thrilled to the words in the brief note.

Sitting up, I wiped my eyes, pressed my lips to the paper, and slid it carefully between the pages of a book. I had to practise vigilance and obedience. The most important thing was to allay Father’s suspicions, bring life back to normal, and be allowed to leave the house. Otherwise I wouldn’t have any way to see Hanchin again.

***

Father had left instructions that I was to be fed nothing but congee and pickled vegetables, but someone was disobeying orders. After only a few days, fruit, pork buns, and sticky rice with chicken steamed in bamboo-leaf parcels began appearing on the tray. On the sixth day of my imprisonment, when Nanny Qiu brought me a tray and I lifted the cover off a bowl, I found my favourite dish: tiny river shrimp quick-fried with green peas.

The shrimp indicated to me that Stepmother had calmed down. If I could get her on my side, perhaps in time I would be able to see Hanchin again. I would ask Stepmother’s advice.

Nanny Qiu left and locked the door. Outside she began scolding someone.

“
Wah, wah,
Ping, you lazy peasant, why this family ever took you in I’ll never know. Where are those clean towels for Third Young Mistress’s morning wash, you turtle egg?”

I knew from the sound of the footfalls that our young maid Ping was hurrying along the corridor as fast as she could to get away from Nanny Qiu.

Silence. Then Nanny’s voice, muttering from the other side of the door.

“Now we’ll see what happens to disobedient daughters. Now that the Master has sent a telegram.”

Strictly speaking Nanny Qiu wasn’t addressing me. She would never dream of defying my father, but there was nothing to prevent her from talking out loud to herself. She was still angry with me, although no longer afraid of being blamed for my escapade. I knew this from other mutterings on other days.