White Tigress (18 page)

He raised her hands to his mouth, blowing gently upon them as he spoke. "That is why I have hope for your designs and will allow my customers to see them."

"Because my hands aren't fat?"

"Because your destiny is shown in your body." He gently released her hand. "Try to find the jen-mo point now."

She nodded, looking stupidly at her hands. They weren't cold now. Indeed, she felt as if his breath had scorched them into a hypersensitivity. And he was already gently guiding her to that spot between his legs.

"Curl your fingers, but don't use your nails. Many tigresses use their middle finger, but any solid pressure will serve."

She didn't respond. What would she say? Instead, her entire focus seemed to be on her hand. The edge of her thumb brushed his thigh, and she started. He, too, jerked a bit, his dragon bobbing its head in a most interesting manner. But he did not release her hand. He guided her higher, while a kind of power seemed to envelop her hand. It was warm and tingling, coming from all sides of his body.

"I... I think I feel your yang fire."

"It is most strong there," he concurred. Then he began to release her hand. "Feel around. Gently. I will tell you when you have found it."

She did as she was bid, nervously brushing her fingers across the back of his dragon home. The flesh moved slightly with her, and she marveled at the wrinkled texture.

"You are doing well, Li Dee. Explore. It is good to understand the dragon's environment if you wish to draw him out."

"Your dragon is already well out," she said, stunned by her own brazenness. But when he rewarded her with a low chuckle, she felt emboldened even further.

Without further hesitation, she began to stroke his sac, noting the two solid ball-like things beneath the skin. She tested them very carefully, lifting them to feel their weight. She even squeezed—very gently—to see his reaction. She looked up at his face, seeing that his skin had indeed flushed rosy, and that his breath was harsher and louder as he breathed.

"Are you in pain?" she asked, abruptly pulling her hand away. But he guided her back.

"You are merely stoking the yang fire. It is just like when I prepare you to release your yin. You are bringing the yang to life."

And so she continued, cupping his dragon home again before sliding her finger further back.

"There."

She froze. "Here?"

"Yes. Push one finger in. Excellent. That will hold back the yang release and allow me to channel it correctly."

She slowly removed her hand, wondering at what she was supposed to do now. She had a guess, and all too soon Ru Shan began guiding her hand to its next location.

"It is time for you to meet the dragon, Li Dee. First you must touch it with your hands, stroking it from its home all the way to its head."

"Touch it?" she echoed softly, her voice thankfully more normal than before.

"With your fingers first. Then your mouth."

She jerked backward. "My mouth?"

He smiled. "Of course. Just as I sucked upon your breasts, you must also suck upon my dragon."

She looked at his huge dragon, feeling anxiety knot her stomach. She didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure she could put it in her mouth.

Then once again, he was lifting her chin to look directly at her. "You said you wished to help me."

"Yes, but..." She didn't know what to say. "Have you ever put your finger in your mouth? Have you ever sucked on it after eating, or perhaps after pricking your finger?" She nodded. "Yes. Of course."

"I tell you now that my dragon is cleaner than your fingers, for I am extremely careful with it. I keep it protected from the outside dirt and bathe it more often than most people wash their hands."

She nodded, torn somewhere between nervousness and excitement. But before she could resolve herself one way or another, she heard him sigh.

"I have pushed you too fast again. You English are difficult to manage."

"We most certainly are not!" she exclaimed, unsure why she reacted so strongly to his statement. "It is simply very new to me."

"You do not need to do this if—"

"No," she interrupted. "I want to learn." And she did. Very much.

And so with that thought in mind, she took hold of his dragon.

From the letters of Mei Lan Cheng

21 December, 1873

Dearest Li Hua—

The Starving Mongoose Captain is back! Oh, he makes my stomach sick, but he wants more cloth and Sheng Fu wants to sell it to him. Sheng Fu has had the stitchers embroidering day and night now on long bolts, just so we can sell it to him. The work is very shoddy, very ugly, but Sheng Fu says the ghost people will not notice. He is wrong in that, but he would not listen to me. That is the first thing the Mongoose Captain said—that our work is worth very little.

I had hoped that the Mongoose Captain's words would anger Cheng Fu, but my husband simply smiled stupidly at the man. He is so greedy for the English gold that he has lost all sense! I pretended to be hurt by the captain's words. I began to sob loudly, then ran away as if I was too upset to continue. Cheng Fu was left to stare helplessly at the captain, unable to do any business at all that day.

But I paid for my deception last night. Cheng Fu was very angry, and now I must hide my face until it heals. I did not mind so long as it kept me away from the Starving Mongoose, but this morning Cheng Fu took our son away from his studies. He said that if I was too ill to translate, he would take Ru Shan.

There was nothing I could do, Li Hua. I had to go back to the store. I could not allow Ru Shan to be distracted. He is too unsettled a student for me to allow him a full day's escape. So I went to the store, limping on my bruised legs, my face painted and hidden behind a fan. I even brought Cheng Fu his favorite lunch of pork dumplings and prostrated myself before him in shame. I thought that with my contrition, he would send Ru Shan home.

He did not. He kept the boy at his side as a threat to me. To show me that I would have to cooperate or he would keep Ru Shan from his future as a scholar.

And that was not the only surprise, either! When the Starving Mongoose appeared, he brought someone else with him. I do not remember the man's name. I call him Mr. Lost Cat because he had a beard like whiskers pointing in all directions—some even straight out from the side of his face! He seemed to look at everything, his beard quivering like cats' do when they are sniffing. He seemed to me like he was lost, looking all over for something familiar. Perhaps the pathway home. And so that is how I named him.

The captain said Mr. Lost Cat knew Chinese and would interpret for us. Truthfully, he speaks very badly, and only in the way of the Cantonese First Boys—the servants of the other English. But I think he is less lost than I first believed. I think perhaps, like me, he understands more than he shows, and so now I must be very careful when I translate for Cheng Fu. I cannot lie anymore about what is being said.

—Mei Lan

Zen has nothing to grab on to.

When people who study Zen don't see it,

that is because they approach it too eagerly.

—Ying An

~

Chapter 8

This should have been easy. But then, Ru Shan was beginning to understand that nothing with Li Dee was easy.

Over the years, he had been with many tigresses, from the most inexperienced all the way to Shi Po, who had developed techniques that strained the lengths of any man's control. Especially with the cubs—the novice tigresses—Ru Shan had learned to stand still, to focus on channeling his yang fire almost to the exclusion of all else. The woman, whether novice or experienced, became almost incidental. Irrelevant.

But not Li Dee. How an inexperienced white woman could so disrupt his concentration, he couldn't understand. But that, he supposed, was what he needed to learn. Or to overcome. He wasn't sure which.

Her hands were tentative, but not afraid. They were simply careful as she explored the length and girth and texture of his jade dragon. But then she became bolder, pulling slightly at his foreskin, moving the dragon left and right. She even sniffed it, unaware that her gentle exhalation against his dragon mouth had his entire body tightening with greedy anticipation.

He reached down, guiding her hands as he showed her how to slide his foreskin up and down.

"Like pumping the bellows in a smithy," he explained, "that will help the yang fire burn hot."

"But I thought you wanted me to... I mean, you said I should use my tongue."

He shook his head. "If you are not ready—"

"No," she interrupted. "I want to. I want to learn."

Of course she did. Li Dee was very bright and very curious.

"Do what you choose, but be very gentle. I will not react. I am going to begin the work of diverting the yang fire." At her confused look, he did his best to explain. "Nature makes a man expend his yang because that is how a child is planted in a woman's womb. But if I have no wish to create a child, all that qi—that
energy
—is wasted. What a jade dragon does is rechannel that energy, directing it not outside the body, but into the creation of an Immortal."

"You?"

"Yes. If I succeed."

"And so you wish me to heat your yang fire so that you can use that energy to become immortal." She tilted her head, looking at him with a mixture of awe and confusion. "This is possible? People have done this?"

"Oh yes."

"They live forever?"

Clearly she wanted to learn, so he crouched down before her, deciding to help her understand. "Their bodies eventually die, though their physical life is much prolonged. It is the spirit—"

"Your soul?"

He shifted onto his knees. "I do not understand this word 'soul.'"

"It's our spirit. The part of us that lives forever. Everyone has one. After our bodies die, the soul continues forever with God."

He frowned. "But does your consciousness—your mind—walk with the Eternals now? With your God in the Heavenly Realm while you still breathe here on Earth?"

She shook her head. "No. Of course not."

"Then how do you know this spirit embryo—this soul—exists within you?"

She bit her lip, obviously thrown. "I don't know," she finally said. "It is what we are taught."

He sighed. "Then I believe you have an inkling of the truth, but do not possess full understanding. Your 'soul' does not exist until it has been created by mixing male yang and female yin. When the two are sufficiently stirred together with enough energy and fire, then an Immortal is created."

"But what does that mean? I mean, how do you know when you have stirred enough?"

"Because our minds go to the Heavenly Realm, and then we walk with the Immortals."

She gasped, wonder lighting her beautiful face. "Truly? Always?"