White Tigress (13 page)

"Let the yin come, Li Dee. Open your plum flower."

She didn't know what was happening. She certainly wasn't opening anything. And yet, she felt everything he said, every idea, every image was echoed in her body. It was as if she had a river inside her, flowing from the furthermost places of her body into her womb, where it concentrated into two tight lines that headed directly for each breast. Each nipple.

And then he began the tightening spiral again.

She hadn't even realized she was breathing rapidly, her body beginning to tremble with what he was doing to her, until he began his circles again. Her breath slowed, but only slightly, fitting itself to his timing. And as the circles tightened, the river flow began again. And when he put his hands on her belly, she felt her stomach cave deep inside, letting him press almost to her spine. Except it wasn't her spine. It was this incredible river of power that flowed upward, following the path of his hands through her breasts and to her nipples.

And his mouth came down over her left breast.

She didn't cry out. Indeed, she barely registered the change from his hands; it all seemed one and the same. His mouth was wet and warm, just like the river that now flowed through her, peaking at her breast. And he sucked in the same tempo, the same pulse as he had built within her. The river flowed to him, bringing heat and moisture and joy as it passed.

Out of her. Into him.

But only through the left breast. The right was left full and aching and closed.

And yet she barely noticed that, so amazing was the feel of his mouth. His tongue continued the circles just as his fingers had done. His mouth lifted her breast, just as his hand had done. But there was more. So much more, as her breast quivered from the flow. On and on he sucked, and she felt as if he drew her very last breath out of her.

Then he stopped—not suddenly, but slowly, gently narrowing his lips, tighter and tighter against her nipple, drawing the peak seemingly to the sky before releasing it with the gentlest of kisses.

And as he at last released her, so did she release her breath, letting the last of it flow outward from her mouth.

"It was helpful, yes? Releasing that yin?" he asked, his eyes gentle, his expression slightly dazed.

How to answer? she wondered. It had been more than helpful. It was incredible. And yet, it was not enough. "Please," she whimpered, not even knowing what she meant.

"Ah," he said, "your other breast is overflowing." And so, with the gentlest of touches, he began his circle again, but only on the right breast.

She felt the yin gather, just as before. She felt his palms press deep into her belly, just as before. But this time, she gave herself completely over to the experience. She not only experienced the flow of yin, she sought it out. She encouraged it. She wanted it. So that when he at last opened his mouth around her right breast, she thrust her nipple inside, crying out in joy as he began to suck the river from her.

This flow went on even longer than the other. The power, the pulse, the beat of her yin gushed into him, and she trembled with its leaving as she throbbed to the circling of his tongue, the pumping of his suction.

And when he at last released her breast, she stared at him in dazed confusion.

He said, "You must rest now. We will continue tomorrow."

He stood, a serene smile upon his face as he bowed deeply, respectfully to her. And after he left, Fu De came into the chamber, quickly releasing her bonds, before he too bowed himself out, closing the door behind him.

Lydia remained where she was, her body still humming, her mind still swirling in chaos.

What had happened? Had she really just released this Chinese yin? It could not be, and yet she could not deny the experience of the last hour.

Hour?

She looked out the window, seeing the total blackness of the night sky. It had been an hour at least. And at that moment she knew the truth: she had fallen into the abyss. She had tumbled, and now she was lost to the person she once was. It was not because a Chinese man had tied her down and suckled at her breasts. It was not because yin had flowed from her body into his.

She was lost because she had enjoyed it. Not just enjoyed it, but relished it. Wanted it. And she was nearly desperate for it to continue.

Was this his mystical release? Had this been intended to make her feel better? It didn't. She didn't. What she felt was achy and tired, and yet still humming with tension. Because she wanted more. She wanted to do it again. Now. This very second. And she wanted more of that yin flow. Rivers more. Entire oceans more.

Exactly what would she give up to get more of that experience? To do that again and again?

She didn't know. And she was frightened as never before.

From the letters of Mei Lan Cheng

14 June, 1873

Dearest Li Hua—

Another girl? Oh Li Hua, I am so sorry. I am sure, though, that she will grow to be like you, a credit to her family name. Like you, she will be a great beauty, a gentle woman, and a great friend to all those who love her. Treat her kindly, kiss her often, and then I am sure Heaven will reward your diligence with a son worthy of your courage and your husband's great strength.

My daughter, I am afraid, is not so blessed in her heritage. With my looks and her father's temper, she is not so favored by Heaven, only by her grandmother. My mother-in-law dotes on the girl, teaching her a hunger for things she should not have. Both seem to be infected with the ghost people's hunger for things without substance. She has even allowed the child to take breaths of her opium!

Fortunately, my husband was as angry as I at such a thing. He does not care about what the smoke will do to the girl, of course. He was furious that such an expensive thing was wasted on a child. Whatever the reason, little Ying Mei will not smoke again.

Ru Shan is also growing well. He is a strong boy with a good mind. Even his temper is as steady as his name promised, but I think that is because any childish outburst is met with the swiftest punishment. So little Ru Shan has learned to be a quiet boy who studies hard, as every great scholar must. I see him, though, staring outside, his tiny hands wrapped around the wood decorations on our windows. I know his heart longs to be out in the sunshine, and my spirit pities him. But a great scholar must find his freedom in his studies, and so I rarely allow him to escape. All his tutors are pleased with his progress, so I know the monks are fulfilling their promise; Ru Shan will achieve merit in his scholarship.

But Li Hua, there is one thing that I must tell you. One thing has been preying upon my sleep. My husband wishes to ship our clothing to England. Yes, to the barbarians in England! He says if the ghost people here are so easily separated from their money, then how much more would it take to bring in the gold from over there?

But Li Hua, he does not speak English. He does not hear the things they say when they think we cannot understand. All Sheng Fu thinks of is opening his hands and having the ghost gold fall into them.

I have tried refusing. I have tried pretending illness or exhaustion or even helping Ru Shan with his studies, but Sheng Fu will not hear of it. He has refused us money for food until I come speak with a ghost captain. I am to translate between him and Sheng Fu tomorrow. Oh, Li Hua, I am so afraid!

—Mei Lan

Once, an old man kept monkeys. When his grain was running short, he thought to cut down their food, but was afraid of their anger. He said to them, "I'm thinking of feeding you with acorns, three for the morning meal and four for the evening meal. Will that be sufficient?" The monkeys all rose to their feet in anger. Seeing this, the old man said, "Then how about four for the morning and three for the evening? I presume that will be enough." At this, the animals all prostrated themselves before him in joy
.

—paraphrased from the writings of Lie Yukou

~

Chapter 6

Ru Shan walked slowly, trying to be mindful of his soul center, but finding his thoughts constantly wandering. He had expected to feel a great contentment all morning, but peace eluded him. Indeed, he had long awaited the moment he could finally start drawing off Li Dee's purified yin, and so had anticipated this morning's activities with great relish, imagining the joy and contentment that would surround him all day.

But it had not happened. Instead of quietness, he found himself especially disturbed. His mind constantly replayed moments from their morning activities. And not that joyful feeling when her yin flowed into his mouth, but the ugliness beforehand when she had run in terror.

What was wrong with him? Why did he focus on her terror, not his own pleasure?

He could only surmise that Li Dee's panic just before he began the massage had somehow polluted her energies.

And those pollutants had flown into him, giving him the same anxiety that Li Dee experienced.

But why had she been so upset? She had accepted her situation. Fu De said she even seemed happy. And yet she had run screaming in horror from him. Her overabundance of yin explained some of her reaction, but not all of it. And he was at a loss to explain.

Fortunately, it was time for his weekly meeting with Shi Po. Hopefully, she would have some insight to Li Dee's bizarre behavior.

He reached the tea house in good time. The business was owned by a fellow jade dragon, and so was often used for dragon/tigress meetings. It had a secret back entrance and many discreet rooms for conversation or practice. Ru Shan had already sent a note ahead, requesting that tea with special herbs be set out for them. It was tea for conversation, not for study. They both knew they would not be practicing today. At least, not with each other.

Shi Po had made it very clear that they would not touch one another until he resolved his current disharmony. She would be especially distressed now that he had to report an additional failure. But there was no help for it. If he wished her cure, he had to tell her of the ailment.

She had already arrived when he entered, though she had waited to begin her tea. She wore a full dress of fine blue silk. The design was not as great as Ru Shan's mother's work, he noted with a bit of smugness, but nothing could detract from Shi Po's beautiful skin or youthful red lips. Ah, how he missed their sessions together. Though, he abruptly realized, he had not truly thought of them for some time. So perhaps he did not miss her as much as he'd first imagined.

Either way, it was good to see her, especially as she began pouring tea. He settled carefully on the reclining cushions, wishing he had more time to relax with her. As it was, he had less than an hour before he would be needed back at his shop.

As these thoughts bubbled in his mind, they began to speak the usual pleasantries. But all too soon, Shi Po was pressing into his distressing thoughts.

"Your brow is troubled, Ru Shan. Have you not been able to harvest some of the ghost woman's yin yet?"

"I began this morning."

"And yet, it does not seem to have helped. Were you unable to begin the flow?"