by Amy Kwei
“Thank you, Tai-tai, thank you.” Grateful tears streamed down Orchid’s cheeks as she fumbled for a handkerchief. The lord is a book-fragrant gentleman, not a licentious lout, she told herself. He had always been kind. She knew he would be gentle. He was much older, but Ah Lee’s urgency was frightening. Chen Snow Song drowned herself because she would not marry a man twice her age. Her master was more than twice her age, but he was not a butcher; he was a fine, handsome man. Yes, the master would be patient. He would teach her the same way her kind mistress had taught her. Now her children would be heirs in this family. She would never have to move into some crude farmhouse. Orchid wept with elation. She could think of nothing that would threaten her new position in the Huang household.
“Here, take this.” Purple Jade handed her a silk handkerchief. At the sight of Orchid’s dewy, firm complexion, she moaned within: Oh youth, oh my lost years! Her eyes moistened. She pronounced very loudly to strengthen her voice: “Tomorrow Lao Wang must begin to prepare your new quarters. We’ll clear out and decorate the storage rooms next to the lord’s library. I’ll summon Dragon to bring me the finest silk. We will begin your trousseau.”
“Tai-tai.” Orchid massaged her mistress’s feet in the hot water. “You’ve been more than a mother to me. You’ve given me a permanent home and a place in this book-fragrant household. Should I bear a son, I shall still remember my origin and your kindness.”
“Dry my feet, my child. It won’t be long before another maid will do this for me. I know your heart and I’m pleased that you see the honor.” Purple Jade had resumed her mask of dignity. “Set up the chess board and invite my lord here for a game of chess tonight.”
Without another word, Orchid finished her tasks and left. Her heart was bursting with joy. Now this was truly her home. What an honor she had been given!
“Oh-me-to-fo,” Orchid silently prayed to the Buddha that night. “Bless my kind mistress, and bless me with many sons to repay the kindness of this house!”
Throughout the chess game, Righteous Virtue and Purple Jade felt distracted. Neither husband nor wife had mentioned the topic of a concubine again, but Righteous Virtue was uncharacteristically tame in his moves on the board. What a woman! he marveled. How she is going to reward me for my fifty years’ honest endeavor!
Try as she might, Purple Jade found it hard to weave the webs of entrapment that had been the strength of her game. Everything I love and value will be lost if we do not have an heir, she reminded herself. Orchid, the perfect gift, will meet the needs of the family. I must avoid facing Orchid alone in the days to come — the thought of her bright wide eyes, sprightly steps and firm young features already set my stomach churning. Purple Jade, keep yourself busy! Please, please, concentrate on your game!
IN 1937, THE YEAR of the Ox, the Chinese Communist and Nationalist parties began negotiations for a united front against Japan. On the twentieth day, the fourth moon of the lunar calendar, Righteous Virtue celebrated his fiftieth birthday, buoyed by the hopeful mood of unity that pervaded his household and nation.
Banners and red lanterns inscribed with the symbols “FU” and “SHOU” (“good luck” and “long life”) festooned every hall. Potted miniature willows and flowering cherry trees (ping jing in Chinese. bonsai in Japanese) filled the house with warm hues. Sparkling silver vases, jade carvings and precious porcelains proclaimed this an auspicious day. Miss Tyler set up four tripods in four locations. She slipped from one position to another, recording the whole affair on camera from different angles.
Relatives and guests had been arriving all morning long. Those who came in motorcars and rickshaws had to dismount on the street, as they could not drive past the low stone sill under the front gate. Palanquins carried visitors through the gate. Winding past the spirit-screen wall facing the street, they alighted in the front courtyard. Waiting palanquins, rickshaws and motorcars lined the outside walls of their house and garden.
Righteous Virtue greeted the male guests in the front hall. In the library, gifts were presented to Lao Wang, the accountant, who duly recorded each one. The more intimate friends and relatives, accompanied by Righteous Virtue, paid their respects by bowing before the ancestor tablets.
Female guests were taken to either the second or the third court depending on their relationship to the family. Purple Jade received her intimates in the third court.
In the afternoon, two large ebony chairs draped with bright red brocade were centered on a platform in the first hall. Red silk cushions with glossy embroidery padded the seats. Paintings of Huang ancestors on two large scrolls hung behind the chairs. A houseboy lit a string of firecrackers on a bamboo pole two stories high, commencing the ceremonies.
“Oh, it’s time to start. It’s time to start!” Silver Bell shouted over the crackling explosions as she covered her ears.
“Oh, I just love rousing heat!” Peony replied, already flushed with excitement.
“Where’s jei-jei?” asked Silver Bell. “Mother said we have to be seated together, over there.” She pointed to the two smaller ebony chairs flanking the large ones.
Silver Bell wore a skirt of rose-colored silk, and a brocade jacket of the same color, with tiny plum blossoms embroidered in silver. Her braids had been wound with silver and rose ribbons. Not a single stray hair marred her peachy face and flashing eyes.
The guests began to assemble in the frontcourt. Glorious Dragon had invited Archie Strong. Strong was wide-eyed with curiosity and delight. He thanked his host for including him in this unusual splendor.
The rustling of lustrous silks and richly embroidered brocades filled the bustling courtyard. Strings of pearls, jade earrings, emerald rings, hairpins of jade dragonflies, coral butterflies, gold and silver combs, precious stones shaped cunningly into flowers of glistening hues, bracelets of gold, jade and carved ivory — all vied for attention.
Ladies milled about, dispersing their fragrance with a gentle flutter of their fans. The older women seemed to prefer fans made of ribs of carved ivory. Some men brandished black-lacquered fans, inlaid with tortoise shells; younger ladies giggled and flirted behind fans made of lacy sandalwood. Purple Jade carried a transparent silk fan of embroidered butterflies. The stitches were so fine that whenever she waved it, the butterflies seemed to glide through translucent air. The sweet scents of jasmine, rosewater, night orchid, lotus and lilac wafted through the air.
The garden pavilions were equipped with mahjong tables, games of chance and chess. Musicians strolled along the many courts playing Chinese mandolins — the pi-pa, the two-string violin — erhu, and the bamboo flute. Jugglers and magicians performed amid circles of guests who laughed and clapped.
All at once timbrels rang out and flutes soared in a vigorous tune as the drums of the hired band banged to demand attention.
The bandleader chanted: “The Master and Tai-tai, please be seated.” Righteous Virtue, who was resplendent in a navy blue gown of gleaming silk, led Purple Jade to the throne-like chairs. Purple Jade looked stunning in a lavender skirt and a light jacket of soft mauve. An embroidered golden phoenix dominated the jacket.
Next, Righteous Virtue’s stepmother and half sisters were announced, followed by the Huang family cousins. They bowed before their hosts in turn, and stood behind the chairs.
“Where’s jei- jei? Go look for Golden Bell.” Silver Bell nudged Peony.
As she spoke, Golden Bell appeared besides her, wearing a lime green silk skirt and mint green jacket with a row of jade buttons clasped by golden frogging.
“It’s about time you appeared. Where were you?” Silver Bell hissed, poking her sister.
“I was helping to prepare the bride,” whispered Golden Bell.
“Who is she . . . who is she?”
“Mother strictly forbade anyone to breathe a word about it; there are too many people in the house wasting mouth water and spreading what is not true.”
“Oh good Jei-jei, please tell me, tell me!”
“Well, all r
ight, everyone will see now in a minute anyway.” She adjusted the jade pin on her newly bobbed hair.
As soon as she whispered the secret into her sister’s ear, Silver Bell hopped on one foot, then the next, clapping and laughing.
Golden Bell covered her sister’s mouth. “Don’t spoil it for everyone else!”
The Chou family’s relatives were announced. Glorious Dragon and other cousins similarly joined the relatives after paying their obeisance.
Then the younger generation was called forth: “The young mistresses of the house, please be seated.” Golden Bell and Silver Bell stood before their parents; they knelt and kowtowed. They were seated on the ebony chairs flanking their parents.
The music cascaded in trills, then swelled to a spirited crescendo while relatives and friends paid their respects formally to their hosts. After the youngest cousin had performed his rite, the music reverberated a full ten minutes more. The bandleader cleared his throat and announced in a booming voice: “Let the concubine be presented.”
A door opened, and a hush descended upon the guests. Orchid emerged, dressed in a rose red gown, the color more pink than the true red that was draped on the chairs. It was the appropriate color for a concubine’s wedding.
Orchid wore pearl and ruby star bursts in her chignon. No veil covered her face, as was the custom for the usual bride. Thanking Buddha under her breath, Orchid blushed as she prayed repeatedly to be blessed with a son. Her heart warmed remembering the chests upon chests of silk gowns, jewelry, quilts and embroidered silk comforters Purple Jade had prepared for her dowry. She knew that few young women in this region would be more richly endowed.
As Righteous Virtue watched Orchid approaching with her great sparkling eyes, he devoured her firm young features with a hunger he had not known before. Waves of both panic and exuberance swept away his initial shyness. He had a numbing thirst. He had not known such passion since the days he had marched in the streets of Shanghai, and shouted slogans against the foreigners.
“Is this foolishness or biology?” he asked himself. Then he remembered his own clumsiness. He had been Purple Jade’s champion and protector. His love for his wife had crystallized into a friendship so consuming that he felt innocent of sex. Perhaps he had known all along that his wife would choose Orchid — her sweet, discreet servant and companion. Yes, he had also been fond of Orchid. Now she would do well to bring harmony within the household.
Purple Jade noticed her husband’s excitement. Her heart was sore with jealousy. Oh, let that red-eyed monster pass from my consciousness, she prayed. She had learned from experience that by simply accepting the validity of her feelings, she would be calmed. Yes, it is natural to drink vinegar and feel uneasy, but we will have an heir, she reminded herself. She tilted her head toward her husband and whispered, “I have given her a pillow book.”
Righteous Virtue nodded and touched her hand in gratitude. Purple Jade felt the electricity in the touch, but knew that although she might seem naive to a sophisticate, she had forever bound to her the love and respect of her husband. The red-eyed monster reared its head for another brief moment at the sight of her beautiful gift. Indeed, she could hardly recognize the radiant Orchid. The monster would always be there, she knew, but she had already mastered her inner turmoil. She never would allow it to disturb the peace and harmony of her house. She straightened in her seat and sat poised for her role in this dramatic moment.
Orchid came before them; she touched her head to the floor and remained prostrate. Righteous Virtue’s heart skipped a beat. He had been reluctant to accept a concubine from his wife. Now, the wisdom of Purple Jade’s choice struck him with full force.
Murmuring waves of approval came from the guests. Some clapped and shouted, “Good. . . good.”
Purple Jade descended the chair platform. She touched Orchid on the head and asked her to rise. Taking Orchid by the hand, but avoiding her eyes, Purple Jade led her to her husband. “My master,” she said with a clear ringing voice, “may this, my present to you on your fiftieth birthday, bring many felicitous blessings to this house.”
Righteous Virtue rose. Giving his wife a secret smile, he bowed and led her, followed by the concubine and his daughters, to the ancestral shrine. There they kowtowed in deep obeisance. The wedding ceremony and the birthday reception ended.
The guests assembled in the large garden, where dining tables were set up in the rambling pavilions and terraces. Before the meal, a golden tray with a flask of wine and two golden cups was brought to the head table. A servant girl held the tray, and Orchid stood with her head bowed as she filled the cups with wine and presented the wine to her patrons in turn — Righteous Virtue first, then Purple Jade — as a sign of gratitude and respect. The quiet ceremony over, the feasting began. The male guests threw their fists in finger-guessing games. A poetry slam broke out around another table. Hangzhou was renowned for its gourmands and poets. The ladies ate daintily, anticipating the usual dozen courses of finest delicacies. The succulent Dongpo pork was named after Su Dongpo, the famous local poet. Live jumping shrimp immersed in Shaoxing wine was the specialty of the region. For months, the servants had saved the shrimp in a special basket suspended in the river. Long noodles, which symbolized long life, were served instead of rice. Dessert featured the traditional long-life peaches, which were peach-shaped steamed buns filled with bean paste. The green leaves and red blush of the peach were painted with vegetable dyes.
A stage occupied one end of the large open pond. Against a backdrop of a plain white canvas, a troop of Shanghai opera singers presented “Havoc in Heaven, the Adventure of the Monkey King.” Ladies swayed to the music while they ate; the men reeled with the wine they had imbibed.
Mr. Strong joined Miss Tyler, who was sitting with Golden Bell and Silver Bell. Mr. Strong couldn’t stop eating morsel after morsel of various dishes, exclaiming all the while how these were not the Chinese dishes he had known. When the beggar’s chicken arrived, Strong thought a ball of clay had been placed in front of them. The server cracked open the clay with a little hammer and lifted a tightly wound bundle of lotus leaves onto a blue and white plate. He broke the seal on the leaves, and a whole chicken emerged with a heavenly aroma of herbs and mysterious seasonings. The chicken had been doused with Shaoxing wine, and stuffed with mushrooms, rehydrated dried scallops, onions, garlic, lotus seeds, and sweet rice. Everyone plucked off the tender chicken meat and took spoonfuls of the stuffing. Strong was so busy eating and exclaiming his excitement that Miss Tyler had to touch his arm and tell him that the girls would like to explain the opera to him.
Although Miss Tyler spoke Chinese, Chinese opera — sung on a bare stage in high falsetto voices — was alien to her. She found the music dynamic and the acrobatic skills of the dance pantomime intriguing.
“The men wave blue banners to portray sea waves,” Golden Bell explained. “That man standing with the oar is on a boat.”
“The Monkey King wears red on his face because red represents courage and honor,” added Silver Bell.
“Do the costumes also represent different things?” asked Miss Tyler.
“Oh yes,” replied Silver Bell. “Perhaps I can come to the schoolroom next week and tell you all about it.”
“That is very kind of you.” Miss Tyler winked at Golden Bell. “But tell me, Silver Bell, how do you feel about having a concubine in the house?”
Golden Bell turned crimson with embarrassment. Her sister answered, “It is wonderful because we’ll have an heir!”
“I do have a great deal to learn from you.” Miss Tyler sensed Golden Bell’s dismay. “Western culture is so different from your fine traditions that I must be a careful teacher of my own and a good learner of yours.”
Miss Tyler turned to translate her Chinese conversation with Silver Bell to Mr. Strong.
“Righteous Virtue speaks excellent English,” Strong whispered. “How did he get his wife to give him a concubine?”
“Mr. Huang is a founder an
d trustee of our missionary school,” Miss Tyler answered. “I’ve been tutoring in this house for more than five years. I understand this was Mrs. Huang’s idea.”
“What?!” Mr. Strong looked into Miss Tyler’s eyes to make certain she wasn’t joking.
“My student told me that she had insisted upon it. Mr. Huang gave in only because it is the proper thing to do here to ensure an heir!”
“I’ll be darned!” Mr. Strong slapped his lap. “His wife looks like a fairy princess. Is she crazy? No one would believe that, even in my Sodom and Gomorrah — New York City!”
“They’ll understand even less in Syracuse, New York.” Miss Tyler blushed and lowered her head to speak into her napkin. “Purple Jade is a great lady. She has ensured the harmony and perpetuation of this family.”
“I’ll be returning to the States next month. When are you due for leave?”
“This will be my twelfth year in China. The longer I stay, the less I want to leave.” Softness graced her hazel eyes. She had come to love these gentle, hospitable people, and she had accepted their stoic ways. She had arrived here to teach, record her experiences in pictures and perhaps convert them to Christianity. Instead, they had changed her.
Strong took note of Miss Tyler’s radiant face as she looked at her students and wondered at the devotion of this missionary woman. He judged her to be about forty-five. What was she doing here? He still could not fully understand the Xian incident. Now, the Huang family’s solution to getting an heir sounded insane! Aloud, he said, “Here’s my card. Please call me sometime when you’re on leave. I’d like to interview you and perhaps you can explain the propriety and logic of concubines in New York. My God, what am I saying?” He ran one hand over his hair and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. “My wife will flip if she hears this. I mean, you will present the Chinese point of view, of course.”
