‘We were deeply saddened to hear of the death of Ji Chang, your great father,’ she said in condolence. ‘He brought a lasting peace and calm to the West.’
During the course of his life, Ji Chang had been recognised as a well-educated, conscientious and benevolent leader, dedicated to educating the population, promoting good ethics, assisting agricultural development and the migration of superior people into the state. Well-qualified advisors and functionaries, fleeing the chaos of Shang imperial rule, had flocked to the leadership opportunities in the West. As the Zhou state’s popularity increased, the Shang emperor’s rule became more ruthless and abusive in equal measure. When Ji Chang was invited to the capital to advise the emperor, he was instead arrested on a charge of conspiring to foment revolution. Ji Chang was locked up at Youli, where he remained imprisoned for seven years. The Zhou ruler spent this time studying the trigrams of old, and reinterpreted their meaning by sorting them into a system of sixty-four hexagrams for strategic divination called the Yi Jing: The Book of Changes. The Yi Jing had then revealed to Ji Chang the rise of the Zhou Dynasty.
During his imprisonment, those with wealth who secretly supported Ji Chang presented the emperor with beautiful girls, fine horses and other riches on Ji Chang’s behalf to prove his loyalty to the emperor. His suspicions dispelled, Zi Shou released Ji Chang and named him Xibo — leader of all the Zhuhou of the lands in the West. Upon his release, Xibo Chang immediately began scouring the country for talented men who could help him destroy the Shang empire.
‘His sons hope to continue his legacy,’ Ji Dan told her in a strong voice that carried across to the ferry, ‘and are here to seek heaven’s mandate to depose the emperor, who no longer serves heaven, our great ancestors or the people. We understand a prophecy of the downfall of Zi Shou hailed from the House of Yi Wu Li Shan and I am here to discover if my great and noble brother Ji Fa is the one whom the Great Mother foresees will put an end to the madness of Shang oppression.’
‘You want the permission of the Great Mother to go to war,’ she clarified.
‘We are already at war,’ the lord replied, ‘but, yes, if that is the will of heaven.’
‘The will of heaven is that we live in peace.’
‘That is our greatest wish also.’ Ji Dan was amused; she could hear it in his voice. ‘My brother respectfully asks the Great Mother to consider, given it is one of the Wu who inspired much of Zi Shou’s madness, whether you would aid us to defeat her?’
‘Daji is not of the House of Yi Wu Li Shan,’ she replied coolly. Ji Dan’s attempt to use of guilt tactics did not impress her. ‘We cannot be held responsible for her corrupt ideology and destructive practices. She has permanently damaged the reputation of all the Wu in the eyes of the people.’
Where once there had been numerous temples of practising Wu throughout the land, many had been destroyed upon the Shang emperor’s word. Other cloisters had been destroyed by the local people, who feared Wu were all evil like Su Daji, or the emperor’s wraith, for allowing the local Wu to remain practising in their vicinity.
‘That is because none of the Wu has done anything to depose her,’ Ji Dan offered. ‘If our armies are to have any chance of overthrowing Zi Shou, we must first deal with Su Daji. The Wu have powers beyond that of mortal man, and the Wu of the House of Yi Wu Li Shan are the most famed and respected in the West. Where else could we possibly find Daji’s equal?’
The notion of combatting Daji, who had shamed the Wu so greatly, appealed to her very much. ‘The Great Mother will only speak with the candidate for her heavenly mandate about such matters.’
‘I can only bring forth the candidate once I know his safety in your house is assured,’ Ji Dan bartered. ‘At the very least, I would have to accompany Ji Fa as far as your cloister.’
‘You have my word that you and your brother will have a safe passage to Yi Wu Li Shan and back,’ she avowed.
‘And who are you, lady?’ the lord asked. ‘May I have a name to report to my brother as our contact among the Wu?’
‘I am Jiang Hudan,’ she announced, and her name incited gasps and muttering among the soldiers. The reverence and fear she detected were very pleasing to her.
‘I have heard of you, Tiger Courage,’ the lord stated, for ‘tiger courage’ was what her name meant. ‘They say you have a sister who is a white tiger, but how can that be?’
‘Mortal men are not expected to understand all the wonders of heaven,’ she replied.
‘This mortal man would very much like to try,’ Ji Dan announced humbly.
Beneath her hood, Jiang Hudan was smiling. ‘Your thirst for knowledge precedes you, Ji Dan, and I hear that you are quite the diviner yourself.’
‘To divine strategy for wars and hunts is one thing, but to divine the will of Tian, without human bias, is quite something else,’ he granted.
His words were pleasing and unexpectedly insightful for a man. Hudan was about to respond when her birth sister leaned over her shoulder to hiss in her ear: ‘Stop indulging in this pointless banter and dismiss him.’
‘As you command, Xi Wangmu,’ Hudan quipped quietly to her, and her sister gave a low, barely audible growl of resentment.
Xi Wangmu was not her sister’s name, for it was a title that meant ‘Great Mother of the West’, and was currently held by their Shifu, Yi Wu. But Hudan had foreseen, long ago that her sister, Huxin, would someday be given this title, so the nickname was a private joke between the sisters; Hudan referred to Huxin thus whenever she thought her twin was being a little high and mighty. Huxin meant ‘tiger heart’, and she was not renowned for her diplomacy or her patience.
‘Return with your candidate in five days’ time, Ji Dan. The Great Mother will see him then,’ Hudan advised. Huxin backed off to focus, along with her brothers, on powering the ferry for them to return to the cloister.
‘As you request, lady,’ Ji Dan called. ‘Ji Fa greatly looks forward to this audience.’
As there was nothing more to be said, the ferry began to move and Hudan took a seat, nursing a rather overwhelming feeling that she had been in this circumstance before — although, in reality, she knew she had not.
‘What is it?’ Huxin sensed her sister’s discomposure, just as she had sensed her delight with Ji Dan’s comments only moments before. ‘Do you suspect something untoward?’
‘Quite the reverse,’ Hudan whispered back. ‘I feel like I’ve had this meeting before … perhaps I foresaw it while in trance and am only now remembering? But, for whatever reason I feel this way, it must be significant.’
Huxin was amused. ‘You are about to help bring about your own prophecy. This meeting is the proof you saw correctly … I would say that is sufficient.’
Hudan wished she was as pleased about her prophecy as everyone else was; she’d never foreseen such a major event before. Everyone wanted the cruel Shang regime to come to an end, herself included, but only war on a massive scale was going to bring that about and she feared that her prophecy had only added fuel to the fire of that horrendous prospect. Many people were going to die attempting to fulfil her vision, and she could only pray to heaven that their ultimate sacrifice would bear sweet fruit for following generations — for this too, she had foreseen, and it gave her the strength to stand by her prophecy.
The ferry docked at the House of Yi Wu Li Shan, so named after their Great Mother, Yi of the Wu, who resided on Mount Li. The name Yi meant to heal, whilst Wu marked their Great Mother, or Shifu, as an oracle, seer, shaman and mistress of Tian; Shan simply meant mountain. Shanyu, which was a nickname that was at times used to refer to Jiang Hudan and Jiang Huxin, simply implied that they were ‘mountain born’.
Hudan made her way from the jetty and walked under the raised iron gate and up the long flight of stone stairs that cut through the mountain and into the central courtyard of the cloister. The iron gate dropped closed behind her. Although it was late, and long past the dog-hour that marked curfew, she knew her Shifu would be await
ing her report. Hudan headed straight for the Great Mother’s private council chamber.
‘Enter,’ Shifu said when Hudan announced herself and the doors opened wide.
The Great Mother was seated comfortably in her chair of council, radiant and serene, as Hudan entered. She had not aged a day in Hudan’s lifetime. All the Wu had great longevity, but none so much as Shifu Yi, who always appeared old enough to be wise, but young enough to preserve her beauty — she had not one grey strand in her long thick hair. The Wu were not vain, but Shifu maintained that, against a man, beauty was a weapon more effective than any sword.
Head bowed, her right fist pressed into her left palm and held out before her, Hudan came forth, knelt and lowered her head. ‘Shifu Yi.’
‘Be at ease, Jiang Hudan,’ the Great Mother granted, and Hudan sat back on her haunches.
‘I have come to report that Ji Dan seeks your heavenly mandate for his brother Ji Fa, leader of the West, just as you predicted.’
‘Yes,’ she concurred, ‘and he will return with the candidate in five days’ time.’
‘Shifu, why request my report, if you already know the outcome of my meeting?’
‘You cannot fathom the answer?’ she inquired.
Hudan’s heart sank, as she had a fair idea what was on her Shifu’s mind. ‘You wish to speak with me about another matter entirely. Is this about brother Fen?’
‘Must we go through this every year?’ her Shifu appealed and thus confirmed Hudan’s fears. ‘I will not have a rooster in my henhouse, no matter how well you try to disguise him as a chicken. Every year I threaten to sacrifice him at the Spring Festival and every year he mysteriously goes missing!’ she scolded. ‘Every year I tell you if he is not gone from here by next spring he will be sacrificed, and is he gone?’
‘No, Shifu,’ Hudan replied, her head bowed, ‘but among our brotherhood there is no one who is a better gardener, healer or herbalist —’
‘I am well aware of his talents, Hudan. Why do you think he is still breathing? But the fact remains he is not a cute little child any longer. In a year he will be a full-grown man!’
The idea of her adopted baby brother being a man sounded like a joke, but she caught her urge to laugh before it escaped her lips.
‘All men have desires, Hudan,’ Yi said in all seriousness, ‘and I know for a fact that sweet little Fen Gong is already bestowing his earthly favours on one of our order.’
Hudan gasped — shocked, bewildered, betrayed! She’d been valiantly defending Fen’s right to remain here as a faithful servant of this house, but if what her Shifu said was true, no amount of arguing would save him from the spring fires, banishment or some other severe punishment.
‘It is only because the woman in question is not a vestal virgin of this house, that I have not already had him seized and quartered.’ Her Shifu was clearly most displeased.
Hudan suspected that, secretly, the Great Mother did not want the celebration preparations disrupted by sacrificing the head of her garden. ‘It was He Nuan, wasn’t it? She’s been making eyes at Fen for years —’
‘It makes no difference who it was,’ her Shifu insisted. ‘The point is, Fen must go.’
‘Not before the festival, surely?’ Hudan pleaded. As angry as she was, she wasn’t ready to bid him farewell. Next to Huxin, Fen meant more to Hudan than anyone else in her world … including her Shifu.
‘Of course not.’ The Great Mother seemed frustrated by that fact. ‘I need him in the garden until then. And once the festival comes, we shall need a human sacrifice,’ she concluded, smiling.
Hudan knew Shifu Yi didn’t mean what she said. She was as fond of Fen as everyone else under her roof. ‘We have other prisoners,’ she appealed, as she always did.
‘Ah, but none are as young, talented and pretty as your brother, Fen — sacrifice is not just a figure of speech!’
Hudan breathed deeply to calm herself. She felt frustrated and angry for being put in this uncomfortable position with her Shifu.
‘So,’ Yi Wu concluded, ‘I want your personal assurance that our beautiful sacrifice will not go mysteriously missing this year.’
Hudan nodded her head in agreement. ‘Right now, Shifu, I believe I would push him into the flames myself.’
Fen Gong had been Hudan’s ward since he’d been left on their jetty as a child of three years. She’d been barely eight years on this earth herself at the time, and had taken an immediate shine to him.
A man-child left for the Wu was only ever intended to be a sacrifice to Tian, Ruler of Heaven. It was common knowledge that only women occupied the House of Yi Wu Li Shan. Whoever had delivered the boy and lit the torches of summons, would have believed they were sealing his fate.
But fate has its own agenda. Fen was living proof.
Caged in the kitchen at first, Fen was only to be kept alive until the Spring Festival. But so pretty and well behaved was the boy-child that none of their order could spurn him. They may have called themselves brothers, and were hardened fighters all, but the hearts of women still burned in their chests and fed their instinct to protect and nurture the child as a mother might.
Hudan, an orphan herself, empathised with the lone youngster, who did not have a twin to cling to, as she had. She took to creeping down to the kitchen to keep him company and stop him fretting at night — and Huxin did too. They started dressing the lad in their old clothes, so that he could sit at the table with them and the other female initiates without looking out of place. As all her brothers were as charmed by the boy as Hudan was, no one complained, and as Shifu Yi rarely ate at their table — for she rarely ate at all — it was some time before she discovered that her spring sacrifice had become the new and beloved pet of her household.
When their Shifu realised she’d have a rebellion on her hands if she burnt the boy, she gave Hudan charge of him as a punishment, but Fen had brought them all nothing but happiness, wonder and joy. Once given liberty to roam the house, garden and mountain top beyond, it became apparent that Fen might have been left to the Wu for reasons other than appeasing heaven as a sacrifice. For the boy showed an unnatural talent for growing and healing just about any living thing, hence his name Fen Gong, which meant ‘fragrant magic’; he could make flowers bloom with a touch, even in the coldest winter. This was the by-product of another supernatural ability Fen possessed. Through skin contact, Fen could influence the emotions of others with his own. Had the person who abandoned the boy-child on Li Shan known this? Such influence over others at such a young age would have been a terrifying prospect to one of the common folk and nobility alike! Maybe they wisely surmised that, if such a child was ever to belong anywhere on this earth, that place would be among the Wu?
Only Hudan and Huxin were close enough to Fen to have discovered the emotional influence he could command over others — if Shifu Yi had discovered it, she had said nothing. In the event of Fen ever needing this talent to save his life, his adopted sisters kept it secret. As Fen was so extraordinarily pretty, he’d blended in for years. Even now, although obviously lacking in the breast department, Fen could pass for one of the prettiest females in the house.
So Shifu Yi had turned a blind eye to Fen’s existence: he’d made himself indispensable in the garden and infirmary, and he’d exhibited exemplary behaviour and aptitude in his lessons. But these past few years, some of those in her order had begun regarding Fen differently. The younger girls, especially, were all soft smiles and fluttering eyes … which Hudan had instructed Fen to ignore.
‘Their silly vanity is going to get you banished,’ she had warned him.
But had he listened? Clearly not.
As two of the most prized students of the House of Yi Wu Li Shan, Hudan and Huxin had their own room; sharing with them had kept Fen out of the dormitory of the younger initiates and away from the private rooms of the highly adept students and the older matrons — many of whom had chosen a cloistered life after being widowed. Most of these matrons were not tra
ined Wu but were welcome to serve in the cloister in exchange for the protection and security the Wu could provide them.
When Hudan reached their sleeping quarters, her anger at boiling point, she stopped outside the door, to calm and centre herself.
Anger is one step away from disempowerment, her Shifu always said.
She could not just storm in and give Fen a serve of her mind without waking the entire household and making them aware of his shame. But there was no way she was going to sleep on this; her fury would ebb by morning, and Hudan wanted Fen to feel the full brunt of her disappointment and betrayal.
Hence she entered quietly, and finding Huxin and Fen sleeping, Hudan moved to the end of Fen’s bed and clasped her hands into a single fist in front of her chest in order to summon her chi to serve her intention.
Everyone in residence at Yi Wu Li Shan trained in Dao Yin every day. Dao Yin was a system of gymnastic exercises that combined flighting techniques with ritual dance. Breath combined with motion cultivated internal energy — chi. With practice, chi could be harnessed, directed and unleashed by the practitioner on their mental command, enabling them to perform feats that the uninitiated considered superhuman.
Once Hudan felt confident, she raised her clasped hands and extended only her first two fingers upward to form a peak. She aligned her sights with the peak of her fingers and directed her will at her unsuspecting victim. Fen’s body began to rise off his bed and he continued sleeping like a baby as Hudan directed his form to follow her through the abandoned walkways of the house, down through the huge kitchen area and into the herb and vegetable garden.
The storm had cleared without a drop of rain — a sign of Tian’s continuing disfavour of the rulership of their land — and the waxing moon lit the way through the dark. At the end of the garden path was a gate that led into the sacred gardens; here Hudan turned right and eventually came to the livestock area. A large stone trough was, in more prosperous times, constantly fed icy cold water from a mountain stream, but lately, due to drought, they’d been forced to fill the trough for the livestock from the well.
Dreaming of Zhou Gong Page 2
