by Mingmei Yip
I drew out a small embroidered pouch. Again I reached in my fingers and pulled out another one. And another.
There were all together three pouches. I opened the first one and saw a small scroll:
Xiang Xiang
I hope now you have enough money to leave Peach Blossom and find your happiness.
Your sister
Pearl
I poured out the contents of the pouches and stared in disbelief at what lay in front of my eyes-banknotes, gold coins, jewelry. There was Pearl's immaculate jade bracelet that I'd so admired. And a big diamond ring that I'd never seen. This must have been her greatest treasure, which she'd prudently kept hidden from everyone at Peach Blossom. I slipped it on and watched it sparkle in the low light of the lantern.
I was overwhelmed by an unspeakable sadness. Pearl, with all this money, we could have both left Peach Blossom and found our happiness together! Why did you kill yourself over that foolish contest and that whore?
I slumped back on the floor and let my tears rain down my cheeks like pearls scattering from a broken string. When I finally regained my composure, I put the jewelry and cash back into the resonance box, then laid the qin on my knees and began to play "Remembering an Old Friend" as softly as I could.
Memories of Pearl and I together kept flashing across my mind while my fingers glided sadly over the instrument's smooth surface. I played until the sound board became so wet from tears that my fingers could no longer pluck the strings. When I set down the qin, the temple became so unbearably quiet that I covered my ears to ward off the silence . . .
To calm myself down, I played "The Phoenix Hairpin" and sang. Several hundred years ago, the poetess Tang Wan had expressed her sadness when forced to separate from her husband-as I from Pearl.
When I was in the middle of my singing, something strange happened. A beautiful voice, soft yet crystal clear, began to join me. I halted to listen, but heard nothing. Then, as I went back to play, the singing resumed.
The voice was so pure and penetrating that I was lost in its beauty for moments. "Pearl?"
No response, except big beards of perspiration forming on my forehead.
Of course it was not Pearl.
Heart pounding, I walked to a window and flung it open. When I looked outside, I saw nothing except the high wall, above which shone a moon resembling a huge tear.
When I finally returned to the pavilion, it was after four in the morning. In the corridor, some sisters' rooms were dark, while others' had light streaming out from underneath the doors. This yin yang contrast of light and darkness reminded me of the phrase yinyang yongge-the yin and the yang worlds forever separated, as were Pearl and I.
PART THREE
20
Chinese Soap Opera
1 randmama, then what happened? Did you really leave Peach _IBlossom? And all that money and jewels, what did you do with them?"
My great-granddaughter jade Treasure asks eagerly. Her eyes widen and sparkle like two gold coins. I chuckle at her naivete. Then I feel touched-by her beauty, her enthusiasm, and the abundance of youth. I put on a mysterious smile while lowering my voice. "Since I knew qinggong-the floating martial art-one night I just jumped out of the window, hopped onto the roof, and disappeared into darkness. As for the jewelry-since all I needed was my freedom-I tossed it all down the gutter."
"Wow!" Jade pouts her lips, then turns to make a face at her fiance Leo Stanley.
Leo widens his eyes into two pretty blue marbles. "Popo, you did?"
Now this American boy looks so cute that I smile. If time could fly back to eighty years ago, I would throw myself into his strong arms and kiss him on his sensuous lips! But I remind myself that I am ninety-eight. Unfortunately. Or fortunately, depending on how you look at it. And now no more a stunningly beautiful, many-talented, heavily sought-after ming ji, but a stunningly plain-I won't describe myself as ugly-many-wrinkled, one-foot-already-inside-thecoffin old and dying woman. Thinking of the contrast, I burst out laughing, choking myself.
However, old age can have its advantages. Like right now when the two young and beautiful creatures fuss over me-fanning my face, patting my back, stroking my hair, massaging my thigh (unfortunately it's Jade Treasure, not Leo), then bringing me ginseng tea (this time it's Leo, touchingly).
After they've finished performing their ritual of filial piety, jade asks, "Grandmama, why is it so funny?"
"Because I lied."
She makes a face. "I know. Then what really happened to you and the jewelry?" She pauses to search my eyes.
I carefully sip my ginseng tea. "Don't worry. I've survived until today and the jewelry-at least some-has survived with me; it's now in the safe. And when I die, it'll all be yours, my little princess."
Jade looks both pleased and embarrassed. "Thank you, Grandmama. But you still haven't told us what happened after you'd left Peach Blossom."
"I will. I promise I won't die until you two have my whole story. If it takes ten years to write this memoir, then I'll try my best to live till one hundred and eight."
Jade chuckles. A full-toothed smile blooms on Leo's tanned face.
I go on, "Although I had all the money and jewelry, I didn't leave Peach Blossom right away. First, I thought that once I left, I'd never go back. But because Pearl was buried in Peach Blossom, I just didn't feel right leaving when her remains were still `warm.' If she'd mourned for Ruby for seven years, I thought I had to mourn for her at least half that, which was three-and-a-half years. Besides Pearl," I pause, then, "there was another reason I didn't leave Peach Blossom right away."
"What is it?" Jade asks, her face glowing with curiosity.
Now Leo stares at me with his long-lashed eyes. "Yes, what is it, Popo?"
I take a long, meditative sip of the ginseng. "It's because of Big Master Fung."
Jade exclaims, "You mean that old-wrinkled-and-dying?"
"Jade, show some respect for elderly people, if not for what they are, at least for what they've experienced. Besides, he's dead, and it's very bad manners for Chinese to bad-mouth a yin person. Worse, it's had luck."
My great-granddaughter chuckles. "Grandmama, which is it? Bad manners or bad luck?"
If jade thinks she can outsmart me, she's wrong. She forgets that at ninety-eight, I've consumed more salt than she has rice and crossed more bridges than she's wriggled her yellowish-white butt on roads.
Of course the reason I scolded jade was not that I cared to defend Big Master Fung-old-wrinkled-and- dying-since that was exactly what I used to call him behind his back. Rather it was for my own dignity, because now I'm exactly like my bitterest enemywrinkled, old, and dying. That's why people say "life comes full circle." But how come the circle never goes back to the point where we were all young and beautiful?
Now Jade says, her voice shrill, her expression horrified, "Grandmama, don't tell me that you fell in love with Fung! "
What an imagination. "Oh, no!" I laugh out loud. "Of course not, my dear Jade." I stare at her. "Don't worry, your great-grandmother has never lost her taste. But ... I did feel attached to him in some ways.
"You're kidding, Grandmama? Attached to an old ... oops-" She hides her mouth and giggles.
I continue, "Although I knew Fung was an evil person, he was truly nice to me, pampering me like a real daughter."
Jade asks, "Really, why?"
But I'm not going to tell them everything right away. I never forgot, even eighty years later, how Pearl taught me the technique of delay.
"Never offer your body right away to those chou nanren," she'd told me. "Retreat and advance, lean forward and step back, only then do you finally yield. The customer knows you'll always give in because you want the money. However, with no pretense, there's no enjoyment."
So I down the last drop of my ginseng tea and hand jade my cup. "I want some more tea, please."
I can't believe she just hands the cup to her fiance. "Leo, get Grandmama more ginseng tea."
After Leo h
as gone to the kitchen, I chide her, "Jade, I don't think you should boss Leo around like this."
"But he likes to serve you, Grandmama."
"Maybe, but that doesn't mean he likes you to tell him what to do. He's a good man, so don't ever let him slip from your grasp. Treat him well." I cast her a meaningful look. "Jade, true love only happens once in a lifetime."
My great-granddaughter's face glows and her eyes sparkle. "Then what about you, Grandmama? Who is your true love?"
Just then Leo comes back with the hot tea. Carefully and respectfully and with both hands (imitating the Chinese way), he hands the cup to me. "It's very hot, Popo, be careful."
"Thank you, Leo," I smile.
After Leo has sat down, jade kisses his cheek, lays her head on his shoulder, and puts her hand on his thigh, while squinting triumphantly at me.
I shake my head. I only told her to be nice to her fiance, not blatantly show off her affection in front of her great-grandmother!
"Grandmama, who is your true love?" she says, then kisses Leo again.
Now Leo looks at me with curiosity, his eyes resembling two dreams painted blue. "Yes, Popo, please tell us your love story."
I feel so touched by this young couple's eagerness to learn about an old woman's love that my eyes swell with tears. Some silence passes before I go on, "But I thought that you two wanted to hear about Big Master Fung."
"That, too, of course!" Jade exclaims.
"But I'm hungry now. I have to eat first, otherwise I won't have enough energy to tell you about both Big Master Fung's affection and my true love."
Jade creases her pretty brows. "Oh Grandmama, please don't tease us like this. Tell us now."
But I decide again to try my skill of teasing, which has grown rusty over the years.
"No, not until I've eaten. I need the qi. Don't you want me to live till one-hundred-and-eight?"
When we enter the Chinese restaurant situated at a corner of Polk Street, several people turn to stare at us. Of course I'm not so naive or vain to think that they're staring at me-although it would have been true eighty years ago-but at my beautiful greatgranddaughter and her tall fiance.
This restaurant has an artistic name-Mirroring Green Pavilion. I almost chuckle. In the past this name would have been perfect for a prostitution house! Jade said she picked this one especially for me because they're promoting a special dish of a special kind of Chinese black fungus, which is supposed to be very good for women's skin and hormones. But what does she know about true Chinese cuisine? Let alone any effect on women's hormones? Besides, I'm already ninety-eight, what do I need those hormones for-to seduce a one-hundred-year-old soon-to-be-corpse?
I am very tempted to tell my experience of tasting the most prestigious Chinese cuisine-manhan quanxi, the Imperial ManchurianHan Banquet, which takes three months to gather the ingredients, three weeks to cook, and three days to eat. But I suppress my urge to boast, as well as my contempt for this kind of fake, pretentious, Americanized Chinese restaurant.
Now a black-suited captain hurries to us, aims an ear-reaching grin at jade, then shows us to a table by the window. With a slick movement of his white-cuffed hand, he lights a candle on the whiteclothed table, then turns to ask me, "Old lady, what would you like to drink?"
Jade blurts out, "Stop calling her old lady, she's my grandmama and the last most famous ming ji in China!"
Heads turn and eyes rivet on me.
If this had happened eighty years ago, I'd have straightened my shoulders and thrown out my chest, then my tongue would have run along my lips while my eyes shot the onlookers soul-losing bul lets. But now I only wish that I had really learned the floating martial art so I could jump out of the window, fly up on the roof, and disappear into darkness.
Back home, I'm still hungry. For I'd already lost my appetite the moment my prestigious status was exposed in that fake restaurant. How ironic. Americans would die to become prestigious! Just look at how they worship celebrities!
Knowing that I'm upset, now Jane puts on a very sweet smile and says very gently, as if she were talking to her antique, cracked porcelain doll, "Grandmama, you want me to fix you something, Coke, cookies?"
"Do you really consider it fixing something to open a Coke and put cookies on a plate?"
But she doesn't answer my question, she is still busy smiling. "All right, all right, Grandmama, I'm sorry. Then why don't you tell us now about Big Master Fung and your love?"
"Yes, Grandmama, please." Leo immediately joins his beautiful, utterly spoiled princess in pleading.
"All right, then listen very carefully," I say, my ninety-eight-yearold heart secretly melting when my glance catches Leo's.
21
Melting the Ice
eedless to say, Fang Rong and Wu Qiang were insanely happy about the jewelry and cash that Pearl had left for them.
Mama laughed, the gold and diamond glittering in her pupils. "That was a really good, filial daughter, still thought of her parents even when she was going to die. Now I forgive her committing suicide. Ha! Ha! Ha!"
De chimed in, his hands sexually harassing a gold brooch (I was sure in his mind, he was now fondling it on Red Jade's breast). "She also chose the right moment to die-at her prime. Otherwise, in a few years she'd be too old to be a ming j: "
Mama interrupted. "Yes, how could we afford to keep her here if she couldn't bring in you-know-what? Who could blame us if no one is willing to pay for someone who's crack-eyed, chimneynosed, clang-eared, and stinks like a swine?"
The evil duo burst into laughter, their hands clutching Pearl's hard-earned jewelry, which, if broken open, would surely spill her blood and tears. I felt an impulse to grab her long gold necklace from Fang Rong's and Wu Qiang's evil fingers and strangle them with it.
It was obvious that Mama and De did not suspect that their filial daughter had also left part of her jewelry and money to me. I was grateful for Pearl's ingenuity. I now kept Pearl's qin in my own room and played it almost every day. Since my practice did not interfere with my bringing rich customers to Peach Blossom, Fang Rong and Wu Qiang never said anything to me about it. All the jewelry and money stayed safely inside the qin's resonance box.
People seemed to get over the shock of Pearl's death very quickly. Of course they still gossiped about her-why she'd killed herself; how she'd lost out in her rivalry with Red jade; how she'd gained her prestigious status by mastering both the technique of the pipa and the bedchamber; her rumored esoteric recipes for shrinking vaginas and enlarging jade stalks. But rarely did I hear laments that her life had been cut short by the evil of the human heart.
Now people's attention turned to Red Jade. Her pictures, together with poems praising her beauty and her talent in the erotic arts of pleasing, appeared frequently in the mosquito press and gossip magazines. One rumor went that one of the movie companies was seriously considering getting her out of Peach Blossom and making her into a star.
One time I overheard one customer say to another, "With those smiling eyes and swinging papayas, she'll be perfect to play the slut! "
The other burst into roaring laughter. "And I bet she'll become famous pretty quickly. For what star has the experience to play a whore as realistically as she! "
Every night music, laughter, and light spilled from Peach Blossom like water spurting from fountains. Long, shiny cars snaked to line up in front of the pavilion's crimson gate. Even the corners of the stone lions' lips seemed to be lifting higher and higher each day, welcoming the pilgrims' offerings pouring into their masters' safe.
Like Pearl, now I completely understood the cruelty of the human heart. But I had no intention to leave this jinfen diyu-Gold-Pow- dered Hell. Not yet. Not until I'd entirely won Fang Rong's and Wu Qiang's trust so they'd feel completely relaxed with me. I had to accord with the Tao-wait for the propitious moment-to carry out my plan.
I wouldn't survive failure.
A few weeks after Pearl's death, I dreamt that she, all dressed up in
a red, gold-threaded gown, appeared in the distance whispering my name. Between us was suspended a bridge so entwined with thorns that neither of us could cross. Underneath the bridge a gravestone lay submerged in water with the inscription:
Pearl 1900-1923
Here lies a woman of prestige-poet, painter, prostitute
Clusters of plum blossoms floated around the grave, and from among the patches of pink, one white flower rose tall and high, nodding to me in the cold, bitter wind. I tried to approach Pearl, but she kept receding, while tenderly calling my name. Desperate, I leaped forward into the air, only to plunge toward her grave ...
I woke up soaking wet. The dream was so vivid that for a moment I believed I was really plunging down toward the lake with a worried-looking Pearl calling my name. I blinked several times to make sure I was in Peach Blossom, in my room with its solid wood furniture, gilded mirror, ceramic vases, and scrolls of paintings and calligraphy ...
