As this was their only hope of a favorable marriage, the Duke’s daughters speedily agreed to learn the ancient secrets of both kindling a man’s lust and of satisfying it with their hands, mouths and other parts. They were given lessons by those of Shen-Li’s wives who were most skillful in these arts, and as a result several of them were able to contract excellent marriages with hot-blooded young noblemen who were so besotted by the arts mastered by the girls that they allowed their turtle heads (i.e. penises) to rule their actions, and asked only for token dowries.
However, by the time of Zhao’s visit, it was no longer easy to find eligible young men (or even old ones) willing to forego a substantial dowry in return for the delights of the flesh offered by the Duke of Yu’s daughters. At this point, the wealthy Zhao, grim of aspect and a mere knight without any important family connections though he was, looked comparatively good to them, and certainly far better than life as an unmarried spinster. When the Duke told his daughters how essential it was for the entire family that Zhao become espoused of at least one of them, any dislike they might have felt for the man as a potential mate was put aside in favor of their obligations to their father.
Even so, after the meeting was concluded, one of Shen-Li’s daughters came to him and begged him not to send her to Zhao. This was his youngest and favorite daughter, the eighteen-year-old Bo Lien, whose name means “Precious Lotus”.
Bo Lien was famous for her remarkable beauty, which had become apparent years previously. Visitors to the Ducal palace who chanced to see the girl were entranced by the perfection of her face and the almost unnatural grace of her movements. Rumor of her beauty had spread throughout the Middle Kingdom, and she was widely known as “The Lotus Flower of Yu”.
Bo Lien, unlike her sisters, did not attend the classes in the arts of love given by the Duke’s wives. Indeed, she seemed wholly uninterested in marriage at all, preferring to spend her time reading and writing (she had perfectly learned the more than 2,000 characters which constituted the written language, the first female in living memory to do so, to the astonishment of practically everyone), studying history, painting watercolors and other activities unrelated to husband-hunting. Rumor of Bo Lien’s many intellectual attainments had spread along with stories of her beauty, so that she was almost as famous for her intellect as for her physical perfection.
“Honorable father,” Bo Lien said, “I beg you not to send me to Master Zhao. I have seen him, and I do not want to marry him. When I look at him, I cannot help feeling dread and loathing. Although I can name no misdeed on his part, my heart warns me that he is a cruel man who takes his pleasure from hurting the innocent.”
“I am certain you are mistaken about Master Zhao, my dear child,” Shen-Li answered. “I cannot imagine that he is anything but kind and considerate, after how understanding he has been with our financial difficulties…”
“But father…” Bo Lien began again.
“…still, since you feel so strongly, I will not send you to him,” Shen-Li continued. “I have no doubt he will find one or more of your lovely sisters satisfactory.”
“Thank you, honorable father,” Bo Lien said. “Know that I would gladly do anything for you, that I would give my life for you, for I owe you a daughter’s obedience. But more than this, even were you not my father, I would still love you for your kind heart. Surely you are the best of fathers, as you are the best of men.” She embraced Shen-Li, and they both wept.
The first daughter the Duke selected for Zhao was the twenty-year-old Huian Ling, whose name means “intelligent, obliging one”. She was very pretty, and aptly named for she was most obliging to her suitors. She was also very intelligent, quickly ascertaining what they liked best and providing it with great skill.
She was admitted to Zhao’s chambers and stood before him for a long minute as he surveyed her without showing any sign of pleasure.
“Name?” he finally spat out.
“I am called Huian Ling, may it please you, most honored sir,” she replied.
“It doesn’t please or displease me,” Zhao answered. “Take your clothes off, Huian Ling, and let me see you.”
“At once, honorable sir,” Huian Ling said. She untied the belt around her slender waist, opened her silk robe and shrugged it off her shoulders, exposing her nude form to his gaze.
Huian Ling was very well developed compared to most of Shen-Li’s daughters. Indeed, compared to most women of the Middle Kingdom, who tend to be slender and subtly curved, she was abundantly endowed. Her breasts were full and round, and her hips and bottom globes seemed almost too much of a good thing in conjunction to her tiny waist. Her sex was plump and tempting, her hands and feet were well shaped and dainty, and when she smiled as she displayed her lush nudity, as she now did, it was difficult for most men to keep their wits about them.
Zhao, however, was not most men, and neither the implicit promise in Huian Ling’s smile nor the gentle swaying of her hips as she turned in place to present herself, did anything to melt his icy demeanor. His expression unchanged, he gestured and said, “Come here to me.”
He instructed the girl to crouch on the floor at his feet on her hands and knees. “Open your legs,” he grunted. When she complied with this command he, without any further preliminary, reached down between her thighs where he rudely inserted two fingers.
Huian Ling made a soft sound of surprise at the suddenness of this invasion, but she did not dare to protest.
“You are still intact?” Zhao demanded, probing with his fingers.
“Yes… ah… yes, honorable sir… I am…” she gasped, “...a virgin.”
Suddenly, the fingers were withdrawn. An instant later, Huian Ling cried out and lurched forward as he plunged a finger into her rear passage.
“Get back in position, huli jing,” Zhao growled. (This is an insult meaning roughly “whore”, or “gold digger”). When Huian Ling shuffled back into place, he jammed in a second finger and then made a twisting motion, drawing another exclamation of pain from the kneeling girl. “Are you virgin here as well?” he demanded. When she hesitated, looking up at him through tearful eyes, he pushed the fingers in more deeply then rotated them in the tight space, drawing another gasp, and added, “Do not try to deceive me, slut.”
“Ah! I would never lie to you, noble sir,” Huian Ling said. “My juhua…” (literally “chrysanthemum”, referring to the anus’ resemblance to a flower) “…has been visited by one before you, a young nobleman from Yang, the son of the Provincial Governor.” Realizing that made her sound like the whore Zhao had accused her of being, she hastily added, “We were to be married.”
“If the young fool desired to marry you, why are now you crawling on the ground in front of me like the bitch you are, instead swallowing up your nobleman in your rear door?” Zhao asked, shoving his fingers in as far as he could.
“Oh, ow! The noble Governor, his father… ah! Please, honorable sir… he would not allow it,” she answered, writhing as he stretched her. Indeed, this was the main reason that the unmarried daughters of Shen-Li were still husbandless, as the fathers of the besotted young nobleman had refused to indulge their sons and had vetoed several proposals.
“I am shocked that the Governor of Yang did not wish his son to marry a common whore,” Zhao observed sarcastically. He removed his fingers and held them up to Huian Ling’s face.
He then gestured toward the door. “You may go,” he said. “You will learn of my decision in due time.”
The humiliated Huian Ling drew up her robe and tied the belt, then left the room, never once lifting her eyes from the floor.
And so it went all that morning, afternoon and evening. Zhao was presented with the unclothed forms of the graceful Beautiful Autumn (Liqui), the doe-like Bright Pearl (Mingzhu), and all the rest. One by one, he manhandled, insulted and humiliated the girls and sent them back weeping to Shen-Yu.
After the last of his daughters had returned, the Duke went to confront Zhao. Although he wa
s in no position to challenge the man, for his debts remained due and owing and it appeared that this was not going to change, Shen-Li was angry at the mistreatment of his beloved daughters. Moreover, Zhao’s insults to his daughters constituted intolerable slights to both himself and his noble ancestors.
“Master Zhao, you have misused my beautiful daughters in an outrageous manner, and thereby insulted my family and…” he began.
Zhao interrupted. “Your daughters, one and all, presented themselves to me as if they were common prostitutes, and though all had retained their gardens of peach blossoms…” (meaning the female genitalia) “… unplucked, not one could truthfully say that she had not already been defiled by a suitor before me. Perhaps I am old-fashioned, but I require for my bride a woman who has kept herself chaste before marriage. You will not, I hope, claim that any of your daughters qualifies in this regard,” he said. “If there are insults passing between us, let us at least admit that they pass both ways. For if were I another sort of man, I might choose to see this parade of …” he hesitated, considering whether he had pushed the Duke as far as was wise, then chose a word other than the one that was in his mind, which was ‘whore’, “…unchaste women you sent me as an insult.”
The Duke prided himself on his rationality and fairness. He therefore gave Zhao’s words careful consideration, and the more he considered his reasoning, the more he found his anger dissipating. Although he did not agree that his daughters were “defiled”, he was forced to concede that one who was not their father might legitimately view the matter in the same light as Zhao.
“My daughters do what they must to win themselves husbands without having proper dowries to offer,” he said at last. “I would not hold this against them but…” he added hastily when Zhao stirred and seemed ready to reply, “…I can see the justice of your arguments. However, since you do feel so strongly, we both are left in a most unfortunate position, as our agreement depends on me to supply a wife for you and yet you find none of my daughters acceptable.”
“Can this truly be the case?” Zhao asked. “Have you no more daughters to show to me?”
“I fear not, Master Zhao,” said Shen-Li. “You have seen them all, and you would have none.”
“Have you not perhaps allowed one to slip your mind?” persisted Zhao. “I speak of the famous Lotus Blossom of Yu, Bo Lien. You have said that I may choose from any of your daughters. Would you hold back your best from one who is, must I remind you, prepared to confer a great favor upon you and your family?”
Shen-Li at first did not know how to answer. He had hoped that Zhao would be content with one (or more) of the others and would not ask about Bo Lien. He therefore was not prepared when he was forced to face this question. “Ah, yes… that is to say, no… I did not intend to keep her back, but…” The Duke of Yu hesitated, trying to think of a way to tell his guest that Bo Lien wanted to have nothing to do with him in a way that would not be a grave insult, which would probably destroy any hope of reaching an agreement on his debts.
“Yes?” Zhao prompted, after a noticeable delay.
“Why, Bo Lien does not feel ready for marriage at this time, that is all, and she asked me not to…” The Duke trailed off again.
“Not to send her to me?” Zhao finished. “So, you would let your daughter dictate to you in a matter of such great import? I was raised to believe that the father ruled his children, not the other way around, but perhaps the custom is otherwise here in Yu.”
“No, the practice followed here is the same as the one with which you are familiar,” Shen-Li demurred. “It is just that I am very fond of the Bo Lien, and I made a promise to her…”
“And so have you made a promise to me,” Zhao reminded him.
“That is both a true and telling point,” Shen-Li said thoughtfully. “So now, I find myself in a position where I must break faith with one or the other. You are my honored guest, a man who aided me when no one else would, and who now offers me yet another favor of great value. On the other hand, Bo Lien is my daughter, by law my property to dispose of as I would, and in any event she has told me she would do anything for me. As your request clearly qualifies under the category of ‘anything’, I can see only one proper course to follow. Master Zhao, please return to your lodgings and I will instruct Bo Lien to present herself to you there, as soon as she has been made ready.”
The scene that followed between Shen-Li and his daughter was painful for both. Bo Lien’s tears very nearly broke her father’s heart, and he almost gave way to her pleas. It was only with the greatest difficulty that he was able to maintain a stern countenance and insist that she follow his order to go to see Zhao. After she was led away to be prepared for the meeting, Shen-Li drove everyone, servants, wives and daughters, from his presence, then sat alone and stared at nothing in silence for a long time, wondering if he had done right.
Chapter Three: An Interview With Zhao Hua
Bo Lien was carefully prepared for her meeting with Zhao Hua. Everyone now knew that the future of the entire family rested on her being accepted by the moneylender. She was bathed in water scented with the fragrant flowers of cherry trees, her hair was brushed until it gleamed like black jade, and she was wrapped in the finest silken robe in all of Yu, an ancient garment that, it was said, had been a gift to the first Duke’s chief wife from the Yellow Emperor himself.
Bo Lien’s mother walked her all the way Zhao’s room, trying to comfort her. “Be of good cheer, my child. You are the loveliest, most irresistible girl in the world,” she said. “No man can keep himself from falling madly in love with you, my sweet Lotus, and none would ever wish you harm. You have nothing to fear from Master Zhao, as he is merely a man and has no defense to your charms. He will soon be at your feet, for no man in this world can resist you.” She kissed Bo Lien on the forehead, and sent her in to meet her future husband. Unfortunately for Bo Lien, while the wisdom her mother spoke was undoubtedly true of most men, it did not apply to Zhao Hua.
As soon as she entered the room, Bo Lien heard Zhao’s voice. “Come in, come in, my girl, and close the door. We will want some privacy for our first meeting.”
She somewhat reluctantly closed the door and slowly advanced into the room. Zhao was seated in a large upholstered chair in the middle of the room. Bo Lien stopped when she was ten feet away from him. To be strictly accurate, her feet stopped of their own accord, without any volition on Bo Lien’s part, and refused to take her any further into the chamber. She stared at the floor, unable for some reason to look Zhao in the eye. She knew that she should speak, that basic propriety required her to greet him, but she could not think of the simplest words to say.
“Good evening, fair Lotus Flower,” Zhao said. “You are as beautiful as rumor would have it, but I had not heard that you were mute. Look at me when I speak to you!” he commanded.
Bo Lien raised her head to look at him. When she heard his command, it felt as if a powerful, invisible hand had jerked her head up in response, as if she had no say in the matter. He gathered up her gaze in his cold black eyes, and she found that she could not look away no matter how hard she tried. It was as if she were under a spell.
“Let us speak together, Bo Lien,” Zhao said. “I understand from your father that you do not wish to marry me. Will you not name me your objections? Perhaps they are simply based on misinformation, and can be alleviated with some candid talk. You are supposed to be an intelligent girl, and I, with all due modesty, do not consider myself a fool. Can we not reach an understanding?”
Bo Lien found to her relief that she was able to speak, after all. “Master Zhao, please do not think that my objections are to you personally. You are a most accomplished and honorable knight, and if I wished to marry at all, I would call myself most fortunate to be the object of your regard, and blessed to be espoused to you. But I have no desire to wed any man at this time, nor would I be a competent wife. Unlike my sisters, I have not acquired the needed skills or knowledge to run a great hou
sehold, and I know nothing whatever about the arts of pleasing men.”
“As to that…” he paused, “…before we continue, be good enough to disrobe, so that I may examine your body while we discuss these matters further.”
“But sir…” Bo Lien began.
“If I am obliged to arise and strip you myself, I cannot promise that your fancy robe will be undamaged,” Zhao said. Although he had not raised his voice, his tone and expression made the girl tremble with fear.
“Yes… yes of course, M… Master Zhao,” Bo Lien stuttered. She opened the knot that fastened the belt, and then slowly, as if the process was physically painful, she slipped off one sleeve, then the other, and allowed the insubstantial garment to float to the ground where it lay in a little heap at her feet.
The Duke of Yu's Daughter Page 2
