The Opium Lord's Daughter

by Robert Wang

  “You are not welcome here, sir. For the last time, please leave!”

  Bell dropped the carrot greens he’d been holding and took a step closer. “Well, ain’t you got a temper on yer? What else you got for me, missy? Something a sight better than vegetables, I’ll warrant.”

  The woman retreated inside and slammed the door. But it was a flimsy door, and it opened easily when Bell applied the butt of his rifle to it.

  “Come now, missy, let’s be friends,” he cooed. “Old Willard just wants a mite to eat and maybe a bit of a cuddle, eh? Missy like a cuddle with a nice Englishman? I won’t bite—unless you like that sort o’ thing.” He grinned, showing rotted brown teeth.

  The woman ducked behind a partition, but he caught her sleeve. “Now then, missy Chinee, what’s your—”

  Pai Chu felt a swell of anger building in her stomach. Her mind went blank, and her stress and anger triggered a spasm in her esophagus. A torrent of vomit flew from her mouth, splattering the soldier from chest to boots.

  “Bloody hell!” Bell choked as he stepped back, horrified, and slipped in the puddle at his feet. “Bitch whore cunt!” he screamed as he went down. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Pai Chu tried to run out the door of the cottage, but Bell was on his feet in no time. “Stupid Chinese bitch,” he muttered. “Ruined me Benjamin, you have! You’ll pay for that.” He slammed his rifle barrel into her shins as she tried to run past him, knocking her to the floor, then punched her in the stomach. The excruciating pain sent Pai Chu into a blinding white wall of unconsciousness. “Now then,” said Bell with satisfaction. “A bit of hush at last.” He tugged at her dark cotton tunic to see how it opened, then gave up and tore it down the front with a little help from his bayonet blade. “Let’s see what a China bitch looks like under her kicksies.”

  Blessed art though among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Pai Chu’s head throbbed, and her muscles were stiff. She tried to move her legs and felt a stabbing pain between them. Shivering, she realized that her skin was bare in the chill air, and then she remembered.

  The soldier stood half naked at the pantry shelves with his back to Pai Chu and his uniform trousers dropped around his ankles, chewing on food that Pai Chu had been preparing before he appeared. Her eyes turned bloodshot with anger as she saw a vision of her own mother’s rape by a British man.

  It had happened. The thing she’d always feared, the thing that had happened to her mother, what she had tried so hard to protect Su-Mei from. But this one was not getting back on his ship and sailing away.

  “Holy Mary, mother of God,” she whispered. “Pray for us sinners.” The soldier’s weapon lay on the floor beyond Pai Chu’s feet. Too long and heavy, she thought. She needed a weapon that was small, something she used every day. “Now, and at the hour of our death.” The cleaver that she used to dismember chicken carcasses lay on its wooden block just outside the kitchen door. She could see it in her mind, blade slotted neatly in its groove, handle facing up.

  Silently, she climbed to her feet, her skin prickling to goosebumps with cold. She felt no fear. There was nothing left to be afraid of now. “Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee.” She bolted for the side door. The soldier whirled around at the sound of her voice and her footsteps, but he tripped over his trousers and fell hard. Swearing, he got up and ran after her. The cleaver seemed to float into her hand as she reached for it. She relished the look of utter astonishment on the man’s face before she sank the blade, honed to hair-splitting sharpness by Su-Mei, into the side of his neck. She didn’t stop there, and by the time she was finished, panting with exhaustion, the dead soldier lying in a pool of blood was unrecognizable. Pai Chu wore an expression that would have frightened devils. She squatted, naked and drenched in blood, near the mutilated body and smiled, mumbling words that only she could understand.

  Master Wen Jing led Su-Mei on a winding, unmarked path through a bamboo forest that came out near the east side of the fort. When they left the cover of the bamboo, they crouched down, trying hard not to be seen as they approached the fort. Su-Mei noticed an acrid, burnt smell in the air, like roast pork mixed with firecrackers. When they saw the first dead Chinese soldiers, their flesh burned black, she understood. Both Su-Mei and the knife sharpener turned away and vomited before picking their way carefully past the carnage.

  There were more dead bodies near the fort’s side entrance, which had been blown to pieces. They heard voices speaking English, and they hid behind a pile of rubble, fearful for their lives. Su-Mei could understand part of what the soldiers were saying, and it had to do with being clear and calling the officers to come ashore. At a signal from Master Wen, she ducked back into the bamboo forest. Not far away was another opening; from it they could see a wall of the fort that had been blown open. Townspeople were rummaging through the ruins, either looking for their loved ones or robbing the dead.

  “Please, please, Da Ping,” Su-Mei begged, “be on your way to the house and not here.” There didn’t appear to be very many survivors, and she was preparing herself for the worst while praying for the impossible. She heard loud cries from the shore, where the invaders had landed, and she followed the sound. British soldiers were surrounding the bodies of General Kwan and Lo Ping. Su-Mei shed a tear as she remembered how kind the general had been when she’d sneaked in to find Da Ping. In an attitude of solemn respect, the British officers saluted the fallen general.

  As he followed Elliot and the other officers up the bank of the river, Higgins saw the carnage up close. He had seen plenty of dead bodies at Chusan, but seeing them at Fu-Moon, a place where he’d walked at sunset with Su-Mei, felt different and much more disturbing. While answering a question from one of the other men, he stumbled on what he thought was a rock and almost fell. He glanced down and saw, to his horror, that it was a head. Poor bastard. He walked on, but something about the head nagged at his memory. He turned back and looked closer. The straight eyebrow, the high cheekbones—one crossed with a jagged scar—and that telltale mark on his forehead. It was Da Ping. He’d only seen the boy once, through the gates of the fort, but the resemblance, the birthmark, and the scar were unmistakable.

  “What’s that you’ve found, Lieutenant?” asked one of the men. “A souvenir?”

  Higgins shook his head. When he could speak, he quietly ordered one of the soldiers nearby to burn the head with the rest of the bodies and then caught up to his superiors near the fallen general. He half listened to the conversation of the senior officers, hearing Chinese voices shout Chinese names over and over, calling for their loved ones and getting no answer. The names floated through the smoky air like the calls of shrill, desperate seabirds.

  Elliot and Bremer were busy making arrangements for the removal and disposal of the dead and where to raise the British flag signifying their conquest when Higgins thought he heard a familiar voice. “Da Ping!” He quietly slipped away toward the sound of that voice. He heard the voice crying out for Da Ping again, and there was no mistaking it. Su-Mei!

  He shouted her name as loud as he could, again and again.

  Officers, soldiers, and villagers nearby heard him and turned to see what was happening. When they did, they saw a uniformed British officer and a Chinese lady embracing each other passionately and crying in each other’s arms right where Chinese soldiers had fought and died defending their homeland against the British forces.

  Elliot stared. Could that really be Lieutenant Higgins? Damn it all, he’s found his Chinese lady friend!

  The villagers, boiling with anger, began throwing rocks and shouting at the woman who was consorting with the enemy right where the brave soldiers of Fu-Moon had given their lives.

  “Get them out of here!” Elliot ordered, and a detachment of soldiers surrounded Higgins and Su-Mei to protect them while others dispersed the hecklers. Master Wen Jing faded into the crowd, shaking his head.

  “I see you’ve found your lady, Lieutenant, but she doesn�
�t appear to be welcome here. You’d best get her, and this brother if he can be found, to the ship now, where they’ll be safe.”

  Higgins shook his head slightly at the captain, who nodded before Su-Mei could notice. “Right, then, just her.”

  “What happen?” Su-Mei asked, bewildered. “Where Da Ping?”

  “I am so sorry, my dear! Your brother is gone. His remains were found near the general, so I’m sure he died fighting bravely.”

  Su-Mei’s face crumpled, as did her legs as she lost her balance. The truth of Higgins’s words was undeniable. She hadn’t seen a single living soldier at the fort. “I want see Da Ping!”

  Higgins shook his head. “His remains are already with the other brave men of the Chinese army.”

  Su-Mei wanted to scream at the sky, to pound her fists on Higgins’s chest, to curse him for taking the last member of her family. She wanted to spit in the eye of this captain who saw all this death as a conquest, a piece moved on a game board. She wanted to turn on her heel and leave all these foreign devils to their bloodshed and hatred forever, to live peacefully in the cottage with Pai Chu and never have to look at a foreigner ever again.

  She did none of these things.

  “Higgins, you must get Miss Lee aboard the Wellesley. Offer her the use of my quarters so she may grieve for her brother in privacy. I expect her people will do her harm if she stays.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Awkwardly, he reached down to help Su-Mei up. She pushed him away and got up on her own, then started hitting him over and over, crying and screaming helplessly. Higgins stood there and let her hit him. The blows became softer and softer until she collapsed in his arms, exhausted.

  Higgins wrapped a blanket around Su-Mei and carried her to a landing boat nearby. He deposited her inside, climbed in next to her, and instructed the sailors to row for the Wellesley. He held her tightly for the short trip to the ship, which had moved in closer to shore after the battle. Tears ran down his face. When had this war become so personal? It had hurt so many innocent people, and for what? So his countrymen could continue to enjoy tea, silk, and porcelain as they poisoned an entire country? He felt ashamed to his core.

  Su-Mei awoke on a bunk in a tidy but well-appointed cabin aboard a ship. Higgins slept beside her on a chair he’d drawn next to the bunk. She could see the residue of tears along his face. Her heart had been broken by Da Ping’s death, but she couldn’t pretend that Higgins was to blame. How difficult it must have been for him to come all the way back to me, during a war! She reached over and touched his arm.

  Higgins woke immediately. “I am so terribly sorry, my love! So sorry!”

  She blinked away tears. “I know you not kiu Da Ping. But I so vally sad.”

  “I know, dearest—I can’t imagine your pain. But I’m here now, and I will never let you go, ever. Soon we’ll sail for England and be away from this place of so much sadness and suffering.” He held her hand tightly, interlacing her fingers with his. “I’m awfully sorry about Da Ping and all the other soldiers. About everything. It was wrong, wrong.” He shook his head.

  “You not do wrong, Tavelas.” She tried to come up with the English words to explain who was at fault—the smugglers, her father, the emperor, the English queen, all the addicts, the generals, the corrupt guans?—and failed.

  “I am ashamed all the same. So many lives lost, and for what?” He gazed into her tear-streaked face. “I promise you this, my love. After we are married, I shall resign my commission. I’ll not serve in the navy, nor aboard an opium ship, ever again. It is a shameful trade, and this is a shameful war.”

  Su-Mei nodded. “We go Engand now. Yes, Tavelas, I want go Engand wit you,” she declared. Leaving China behind seemed like the best idea she’d ever heard, and the sooner they left, the better.

  “Yes, we’ll start a new life there, my dear.”

  Su-Mei nodded eagerly. Then she remembered Pai Chu.

  “Tavelas, we must tell Pai Chu we leave. She waiting at house. Maybe she come to Engand too?” Su-Mei knew in her heart that Pai Chu would never consent to live among the hated British, but she couldn’t leave her behind without a word. I have failed to save everyone else in my entire family from a horrible death—I must at least say goodbye to my adopted sister, she thought.

  “Yes,” agreed Higgins. “Captain Elliot did give permission for two people to travel with us.”

  Su-Mei sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bunk. “You take me to house now, pleeze?”

  “It’s awfully late now,” he replied. “Why don’t you rest, and we’ll go tomorrow morning. But we must be very careful—your people see you as a traitor now, and it’s not safe for you in Fu-Moon.” He kissed her hand tenderly. “Stay here in the captain’s quarters. I shall call for you in the morning. If you require anything, just pull that rope to call the steward.”

  Su-Mei refused to let go of his hand. “No. You stay wit me.”

  Higgins leaned in for a kiss. “My darling, it would not be proper. The captain—” The rest of his words were lost to the touch of her lips. Su-Mei’s grief and their year-long separation kindled a fiery passion between them, and Higgins soon realized that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Charles Elliot, exhausted from the battle and the dreary logistics of burial and occupation, recalled upon boarding the Wellesley that he had offered his quarters to the Chinese lady. He found a vacant bunk and collapsed into it, eyes already closing.

  When morning came, Elliot and Captain Bremer invited Higgins and Su-Mei to join them for breakfast.

  “Miss Lee,” said Elliot, “please accept our deepest condolences on your loss. It was never our intention to bring death and destruction onto your country, but we were left with no other choice to defend our honor. It is our sincerest hope that England and China can reach a peaceful conclusion and resume the amicable relationship we enjoyed previously—”

  Before he could finish, Su-Mei interrupted. “No want talk opium. Opium kiu my family, kiu so many peepoh. No onna in opium.”

  “In time, Miss Lee, I pray you will understand. We are just happy that you are safe now and under the protection of Her Majesty. We shall welcome you to England when we are finished with this unfortunate conflict.”

  Su-Mei decided not to pursue this senseless conversation. She felt torn to pieces and confused inside. “Please, I need go home. Must tell Pai Chu I go Engand, then come back.”

  “I cannot in good conscience allow you to leave this ship, Miss Lee, I saw your people’s reaction to your relationship with Lieutenant Higgins, so you will not be safe. To whom do you wish to speak? Could a message be sent?”

  Su-Mei shook her head. “Must go tell Pai Chu. She wait me.”

  Higgins recognized the stubborn look in her eyes. “Sir,” said Higgins. “Miss Pai Chu is Miss Lee’s companion and best friend. She is the novice, Sister Maria, whom you met at the fort. She has been living with Miss Lee for the past year, not far from Fu-Moon. Miss Lee would like to ask your permission to invite her on our voyage back to England in place of her brother. Sir, Miss Pai Chu is the only friend and closest thing to family that she has left in China. I beg you to consider allowing her to sail with us—assuming Miss Pai Chu would like to go to England.”

  “Well, under these circumstances, I will permit Miss Lee’s friend to join her on her voyage now that her brother is no longer with us.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Higgins breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Tank you,” Su-Mei echoed.

  “When do you plan to collect this young woman, Higgins?”

  “Today, sir, with your permission.”

  “I don’t think it’s safe for Miss Lee to go ashore alone because of her relationship with you.”

  “Those are my thoughts precisely, sir. I would be happy to accompany her today with your permission.”

  Elliot brushed at his mustache to hide a grimace. No surprises there. “Granted, but I recommend you go ashore after dark so the ye—” He bit off
his words, recalling Su-Mei’s presence. “So you’re not seen.”

  “Yes, sir. We will go ashore at sunset, sir.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Su-Mei and Higgins spent the day discussing their future in England. Higgins told her about his hometown in Yorkshire and his family and how happy they would be in England. “Darling, my family, the villagers—they may take some time to accept you, but I’m sure they will fall in love with you just as I did.”

  Su-Mei nodded, although she couldn’t imagine what it would be like in a new land where she knew no one except her husband. It would be quite a challenge to adapt to an entirely new lifestyle, but she was hopeful that she would find happiness in England, especially with her Travers. There was no further hope for happiness in her own country, she knew.

  By three o’clock, Higgins stopped their conversation, looked at Su-Mei, and said, “My love, I know your traditions around mourning, and I respect them, but I think we should get married now, on board this ship, so we can be husband and wife. We have already consummated our love for each other, and nothing would make me happier than to call you Mrs. Higgins.”

  Su-Mei wrinkled her forehead. “What is consomay?”

  Higgins turned red. Putting his arms around Su-Mei, he whispered in her ear. “‘Consummate’ means we have physically expressed our love for each other—in the bedchamber.”

  Su-Mei found she no longer cared about Confucian philosophy and familial piety. She gave Higgins a big smile. “I be you wife, Misses Tlaves Heegans.”

  Higgins leaped to his feet and jumped and danced with joy. Su-Mei laughed out loud, watching the man she loved go crazy. It was the first time she’d felt anything like happiness in a year of tragedy and death.

  Sir Gordon Bremer, captain of the Wellesley, was pleased to officiate the wedding. Elliot agreed to be Higgins’s best man, and a small ceremony was held in the Wellesley’s makeshift chapel, which was in the same dining room where Chi San and the Chinese entourage had been humiliated by Elliot.