by Zen Cho
“This war has changed us all, sister,” he said, but it was the final gambit of one who knew himself defeated.
“The deity led us here,” said Guet Imm. “She won’t fail us. Let me try.”
They spoke to Fung Cheung, but Tet Sang thought it neither necessary nor advisable to inform the rest of the group about Guet Imm’s intention to attempt to parley with Yeoh Thean Tee’s daughter. Yet somehow, the news spread anyway.
The next morning, Ah Boon said to him, “The plan, with the Yeoh daughter … is it a good idea, Second Brother?”
There was no point asking how Ah Boon had heard of the plan. For all their differences, the brothers were united in their hatred of informers.
“You don’t like it?” said Tet Sang.
“Sister Guet Imm has good intentions,” said Ah Boon. “But why would Yeoh Thean Tee listen to his daughter, even if she asks him to forgive our debt? Anyway, most likely this daughter will simply call the mata on us. Then how?”
All of these points and more had occurred to Tet Sang. He’d expected Fung Cheung to rehearse the same arguments when Guet Imm presented the proposal to him the night before. Instead, Fung Cheung had said, “Why not? No doubt you will make an offering to your goddess before you go to see this woman, sister.”
“The deity will look after us,” said Guet Imm.
Fung Cheung nodded.
Tet Sang said dubiously, “You think it’s a good plan?”
“Oh, no. I think the plan makes no sense,” said Fung Cheung. “But to tell the truth, Ah Sang, I don’t know what to do also.” He raised his eyes to the sky. The full moon rode low among the clouds, giving off a white glow as pure as the light of the goddess’s face was said to be. “Since we are here anyway, it’s worth a shot. Who knows? Maybe Fate will give us a break.”
Here was the power of Guet Imm’s faith again, thought Tet Sang—or in other words, the power of superstition.
They decided that Guet Imm and Tet Sang would pay the visit. At least if they were hauled off by the mata, Fung Cheung would not be involved.
“Even if she sent us away, Sister Anitya wouldn’t do that,” said Guet Imm, but she didn’t object to it being the two of them. “I don’t think Brother Lau’s face would make much difference to her. She is not the kind to be swayed by that sort of thing.”
But Fung Cheung’s approval did little to lighten the atmosphere in the camp. Ah Yee was morose, despite the apology Guet Imm had made, and he was not the only one who was unhappy. A lingering discontent hung over the men.
“That woman has spoilt our peace,” said Rimau.
If this troubled Guet Imm, she did not show it. It seemed to be Tet Sang alone who felt himself to be on a fool’s mission when they set off for Yeoh Gaik Tin’s house. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that Yeoh Gaik Tin must indeed be an unusual person, if she was living with neither her husband’s nor her own family but had set up her own household.
It was an elderly woman who opened the door. She looked them over, frowning. From her aged samfu, she appeared to be an old retainer.
Tet Sang had left behind his parang and borrowed Fung Cheung’s second-best set of robes. From the neck down, he looked respectable, even prosperous: “You could be a sundry shop owner,” said Guet Imm approvingly.
But there was nothing to be done about Tet Sang’s face. It clearly did not strike the maidservant as the face of a sundry shop owner. Her expression did not grow any more welcoming when her eyes moved to Guet Imm.
“Yes, I’m sure you want to see the mistress of the house,” she said when Guet Imm repeated her request. “A lot of nuns and monks want to see Madam Yeoh. But who are you?”
Guet Imm glanced at Tet Sang.
“I’m an old friend,” she said. “Tell her it’s Sister Nirodha. She will remember me.”
The maidservant snorted. “You’ll be surprised how many con artists in mendicant robes are ‘old friends’ of Madam Yeoh. She spent five years in that tokong, and apparently she met every religious on the peninsula. I suppose you’ll say you are also from the Order of the Pure Moon?”
“Auntie, what else can I say but the truth?” said Guet Imm, wide-eyed. “I won’t say I was Madam Yeoh’s good friend—”
“Ha!”
“But I really knew her,” Guet Imm continued. “Please, can’t you ask her and see what she says?”
The old retainer glared at her. “So, you’re not here to beg for money?”
If Tet Sang had thought Guet Imm would be tripped up by this, or even blush, he had thought too little of her (or perhaps too much). She drew herself up, the picture of outraged innocence.
“Beg for money! Auntie, these other nuns and monks who came may not have been sincere, but you must not judge my heart by such people. I have travelled for days so I can see Sister Anitya’s face again.”
“Who are these people, Second Aunt?” said a new voice.
A woman stood at the bottom of the steps leading to the main door. She wore an Occidental-style dress, expensively simple, with gold bangles on her wrists and jade drops in her ears. She gave an overmastering impression of elegance—an elegance that had no need of youth or beauty, since it had its source in power.
“Who else? More of your beggars,” said the elderly woman, evidently no retainer after all. “This girl says she knows you, Ah Tin.”
Yeoh Gaik Tin raised a perfect eyebrow. “But I don’t know her.”
Guet Imm gave her a burning look of betrayal. “Oh, Sister Anitya!”
“I told you and your father so many times already,” said the aunt. “So long as you give people money, they will keep coming. You cannot feed every monk and nun in the country.”
Yeoh Gaik Tin said to Guet Imm, “How did you know my Ascended name?” But then her eyes met Tet Sang’s. They widened.
“We were at the same tokong, sister,” said Guet Imm. “I’m Sister Guet Imm; Nirodha was my Ascended name. Don’t you remember? I’m sure we overlapped for a year. Six months at the very least!”
Yeoh Gaik Tin was not listening. Her hand had flown to her mouth.
“Sister Khanti!” she said. She went up the steps, reaching out, but stopped short of touching Tet Sang. She stood gazing at him as though he were a precious object—a marvel she had not thought to see. “You survived!”
* * *
“This is a great blessing,” said Yeoh Gaik Tin. “I heard the Permatang Timbul tokong was destroyed. Everybody there, gone.”
They were seated in a parlour opening on the central courtyard of Madam Yeoh’s mansion. Tet Sang nodded awkwardly at the servant pouring him tea. Guet Imm’s eyes were burning holes into the side of his head.
“Why you didn’t say you knew Yeoh Gaik Tin?” she’d whispered as Madam Yeoh had whisked them into the house.
“I don’t know her!” said Tet Sang.
“She seems to know you!”
Certainly, Madam Yeoh’s hospitality suggested some prior acquaintance. The moment they sat down, servants poured forth from parts unknown, covering the blackwood table with a bounty of kuih. Guet Imm ate three in rapid succession, while Tet Sang sat with his palms pressed against his thighs. The aunt who had greeted them retired from the scene, grumbling.
“But you escaped, Sister Khanti,” said Yeoh Gaik Tin. She clasped her hands. “This is all thanks to Heaven!”
Tet Sang had racked his brains but could not unearth any familiarity with the name Anitya. It was unnerving. His problem had always been that he remembered too much about the Order, not too little. Perhaps his efforts to forget had been more successful than he had thought.
“Yes,” he said. “I escaped. And you, sister … were you at Permatang Timbul also?”
A cloud passed over Yeoh Gaik Tin’s face. “You don’t remember me!”
Tet Sang coughed. “Well…”
“No, no. There’s no reason you should,” said Yeoh Gaik Tin. “I was at a different tokong.”
“The tokong at Bukit Hitam,” said Gue
t Imm. “I was there also.”
“Ah, really?” said Madam Yeoh, glancing at Guet Imm without recognition. “Very good! Welcome, sister.”
She turned back to Tet Sang. “Yes, I was at the Bukit Hitam tokong. I joined a delegation to Permatang Timbul in the year 2483. I attended your lecture on the Clear Heart scriptures. Wah!” She shook her head. “I’ll never forget it. It was like drinking from a spring of fresh water.”
Guet Imm’s fiery gaze intensified. “You gave lectures?” she said to Tet Sang.
“That was one of sister’s earliest lectures,” said Yeoh Gaik Tin. “It was only later on that she became famous for them.” She said to Tet Sang, “I attended as a layperson when you came to Kempas also. That was after I’d left my tokong. But that time, I had no chance to speak to you. There were too many people there.”
“I thought you were a novice,” said Guet Imm, indignant. “You said the mysteries were closed to you!”
“I said I didn’t know anything about shaping the air,” Tet Sang corrected her. “I focused on the scriptures. Anyone can read the scriptures with training.”
“But few could explain them the way you did, sister,” said Yeoh Gaik Tin, in a tone of reproof. “Even the elders admired you. My Abbot had all your exegeses in her study.”
Tet Sang inclined his head in acknowledgment of the compliment.
“It was a long time ago,” he said, with—he hoped—more composure than he felt. “A lot of things have happened since then. Please don’t call me sister, Madam Yeoh. I am not a member of the Order anymore. That title is not for me.”
Yeoh Gaik Tin looked at him, taking in, for perhaps the first time, the long hair and the men’s robes. The light in her eyes faded.
“Yes,” she said. “A lot of things have happened these past few years. I am sorry, sis—I am sorry. I shouldn’t have talked so carelessly about the past.”
Tet Sang shook his head. “It is good Madam Yeoh is not scared of speaking about such things. Sister Nirodha and I have come on a mission from the past.”
He glanced at Guet Imm. She glared back at him, as much as to say, We’re not done talking about this. But she said nothing, reaching into her robes and drawing out a small bag, which she offered to Yeoh Gaik Tin.
Madam Yeoh took the bag, opening it. She shook the sarira out onto her palm.
Her eyes widened. “But these are…”
“The relics of the deity,” said Tet Sang. “The most precious treasures of my tokong, and the only ones that remain. The rest have been confiscated.”
He told her an edited version of the events that had led them to her door, including their agreement with her father and the ambush by the mata at Sungai Tombak.
“They took everything? The statue also?” said Madam Yeoh. “I remember that statue. It was the one in your Abbot’s room, right? Beautiful work! The Protector will send it back to his country, but his countrymen won’t know how to appreciate.”
The thought seemed to pain her. She put a hand to her temple. “So many things have been lost.”
“But much has survived,” said Guet Imm. There was a note in her voice that made Yeoh Gaik Tin raise her eyes. “It was not coincidence that we managed to save the sarira, Sister Anitya, or that we found our way to you.”
Yeoh Gaik Tin looked thoughtful.
“Your Abbot at Permatang Timbul,” she said to Tet Sang. “She died?”
“Yes,” said Tet Sang. “She would have wanted these kept somewhere safe. Looked after by one of the faithful.”
Yeoh Gaik Tin had all the character Guet Imm had credited her with. She asked no more questions, but said, “How much do you want?”
Before Tet Sang could speak, Guet Imm blurted:
“Six silver taels. Two per sarira. Minus the eight hundred cash, of course, which your father paid us already.”
Tet Sang swallowed the urge to object—it was too late now in any event. Guet Imm went on:
“It is impossible to put a price on these relics, as you know, sister. Whoever holds them will have the deity’s protection. That’s no small thing in these times. To ask for ten taels also would not be too much. But since you were a follower of the Order, and you knew the Abbot, the deity will not mind if we give you face.”
Guet Imm spoke with a decent facsimile of her habitual irritating serenity. But Tet Sang saw that the knuckles on her hands, folded in her lap, were white.
Madam Yeoh was silent for a long moment, looking from Guet Imm to Tet Sang and back again.
At least it was unlikely that she would call the mata to kick them out, what with the welcome she had given them and her open acknowledgment of having been a devotee of the Pure Moon. It would probably be private guards, who would not rough them up too much so long as they went quietly. That would be fine. Even Guet Imm was not so stupid as to fight the Yeoh family’s private guards.
“Six taels,” said Madam Yeoh. She shook her head, smiling slightly. “You are trying to cheat me, sister!”
Guet Imm’s eyes widened. Tet Sang wished he had taken a kuih. Hearing the name they had called him at his tokong—Sister Khanti—had chased away hunger, but now that they were shortly to be sent packing, he felt he had been foolish to miss the opportunity.
“Cheat you, sister?” Guet Imm began, all ingenuous indignation.
“That’s what I would say if this was a business matter,” said Madam Yeoh. “But this is not business. Money is not important, compared to preserving the light of the Pure Moon. I will pay what you ask and be glad to have the honour of keeping the sarira safe—if you will do me a favour.”
Guet Imm seemed as taken aback by the success of her feint as Tet Sang. It took her a moment to recover her composure. “Of course. Anything we can do to help…”
Madam Yeoh looked at Tet Sang.
“Will you stay?” she said.
* * *
“Didn’t go well, is it?” said Fung Cheung. He clapped Tet Sang on the shoulder. “Never mind. No harm trying.”
The rest of the group hovered nearby, affecting to be occupied with various tasks, but that was just as well. It would save making a second announcement.
Tet Sang set down the bag Madam Yeoh had given them. It clinked, making the brothers’ heads rise.
“Ten per cent down payment from Yeoh Gaik Tin,” said Tet Sang. “She’ll pay six taels for the relics, minus the eight hundred cash we owe her father. Her people will give us the rest tomorrow if we bring some men to help carry.”
“Six taels…” Fung Cheung ripped open the bag. Strings of cash tumbled out. The brothers abandoned all pretence of not listening, crowding around.
Fung Cheung swore. “You left the goods with this Yeoh Gaik Tin?”
Guet Imm opened her hand to show him the sarira. “She’ll get them when the balance is paid.”
“And she agreed to this deal?” said Fung Cheung incredulously. He sat back on his heels, shaking his head. “You’ve done it again, Ah Sang. I thought we’d have to turn ourselves in to the Protectorate to escape Yeoh Thean Tee’s men. Instead, you’ve made us rich!”
“It was Sister Guet Imm’s idea,” said Tet Sang.
“You’re the one who made the deal, brother,” said Guet Imm.
Neither of them was especially cheerful, but Fung Cheung was too amazed by their windfall to take notice.
“Six taels for a few pebbles!” he marvelled. “The woman must be crazy.”
“Who knew there were still such pious people in the world?” said Ah Hin. He gave Guet Imm a shining look. “This good luck is because of sister. Madam Yeoh would never agree to pay so much if anyone else asked.”
Guet Imm glanced at Tet Sang. When he stayed silent, she said, “Actually, the six taels is not just for the relics.”
“The sarira are a great treasure,” Madam Yeoh had said. “But the living light of the Pure Moon is embodied in her votaries.”
She gazed at her courtyard with its graceful blossoming plants, her face troubled.
&nbs
p; “These days, it is hard to know how to be a person,” she said. “To avoid doing wrong is not easy, never mind doing good. I have been praying for guidance—a light in this darkness. Now the deity has sent you to me. It’s a sign.”
Tet Sang looked at Guet Imm, but she had gone opaque. He could no more tell what she was thinking than one could discern what lay at the bottom of a moonlit pond at night.
He could act as though he had not heard, or treat the proposal as a joke. But Yeoh Gaik Tin was a powerful woman doing them a great favour. What was more, she was sincere. She deserved a real answer.
“Madam Yeoh honours me,” he said finally. “But I am not qualified to advise anyone, much less Madam Yeoh.”
“You underrate your own powers,” Madam Yeoh began, but Tet Sang raised his hand.
“You must understand. I am not being modest,” he said. “I am not what Madam Yeoh thinks me. I belonged to a tokong once, yes. But that tokong is gone. Now I belong to nothing.”
He braced himself for doubt, questioning, challenges. To his surprise, Yeoh Gaik Tin laughed.
“What?” said Tet Sang crossly when she didn’t stop laughing.
“Sorry, sorry,” said Madam Yeoh, sobering up. She lifted grave eyes to Tet Sang. “This has been a long war for everybody. Who among us has not changed? But you shouldn’t need me to tell you that the deity doesn’t let go of her people so easily.”
She rose. Tet Sang and Guet Imm got to their feet, exchanging an uncertain look.
“I want six hundred cash for Sister Nirodha and her friend,” Madam Yeoh told a servant. To Tet Sang she said, “My people can bring the rest to you if you tell me where to bring it, or you can come and pick it up tomorrow. The eight hundred cash you took already I must hold back for my father, so the balance will be four thousand, six hundred only. Do you want it in taels or cash?”
“Cash will be fine,” said Guet Imm quickly. “The deity keep you in her regard, sister!”
Madam Yeoh waved away Tet Sang’s stammered thanks.
