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The Way of the Tigress 1-4

Page 67

by Jade Lee - The Way of the Tigress 1-4


  "Of course not," she interrupted. Her aunt would never reveal her true purpose with Kui Yu there. "I will send tea to your study."

  Kui Yu nodded, his eyes troubled. But his expression was often troubled these days; today was no different. In the end, he acted as usual. He bowed and withdrew, leaving her to her business. That was his most endearing quality, and she valued it greatly. Even as a part of her perversely wished he was not so accommodating.

  Auntie Ting wasted no time. The moment the door shut behind Kui Yu, she gripped Shi Po's arm. Her small fingers dug their extra-long nails into Shi Po's flesh. "Have you lost all sense of reason? What could you be thinking?"

  Shi Po sighed. Her aunt always made her feel so weary, and the woman was in a rare state of fury. All Shi Po could do was wait for whatever imagined doom came next.

  "Answer me, child! How could you allow this to happen? What other disasters are you brewing?" She tugged on Shi Po's arm. "Come. I will see your records. I wish to judge your idiocy myself!"

  Those words woke Shi Po out of her stupor. She jerked her arm away and pasted on her calmest smile. "I have no records, aunt," she lied. "Like you, I have only such guidance as my husband can provide."

  It was a most useful trick when any woman became too interested in what she did. Simply mention Kui Yu—or any man for that matter—and women were socially excluded from giving opinions.

  Except, of course, her aunt. "Men! Bah," she said as she spat into Kui Yu's teacup. "What are they but pricks with legs? Yours at least is a golden one, blessed to make money. But what do they understand about anything important?"

  Shi Po shrugged. While she found her husband more than capable, who was she to brag about her good fortune? So she nodded sagely as if agreeing, but kept her mouth shut while her aunt continued.

  "Your uncle couldn't keep his pole in his pants long enough to think much less make money. Your brothers are no different. Shaolins look pretty but don't have a cent. And as for Lun Po..." She rolled her eyes. "Don't think his influence will save you. He'll sell you to prison for another opium pipe."

  Again, Shi Po said nothing. Her aunt was completely right about their shared ancestors. Useless, all of them.

  "That leaves me, stupid child, to save you from the fire. So, out with it. What disaster have you brought upon our heads?"

  Shi Po blinked, finding it easy to appear confused. "I am in no danger at all, Auntie Ting."

  "Oh!" the woman exclaimed, her butterflies bobbing even lower on her dyed black hair. "So you often entertain Imperial generals. You always send your girls fleeing for their lives to my establishment."

  At last, Shi Po understood. Some of her girls must have gone to her aunt's brothel. What better place to practice their lessons, to harvest yang, than in a pleasure garden? "I expect you have made good money, Aunt, with all the new soldiers. Thankfully, my Tigress cubs are well trained."

  "I would glory in the money," snapped Mei Ting, "if I were not in constant fear of being arrested! I gave away my women today. Gave them free in the hopes that they wouldn't come for me next. That is what you have done, you stupid girl, reduced me to penury because of your foolishness!"

  Shi Po felt herself shrink. She knew it was ridiculous. She told herself that her aunt had no power over her, that what had happened in the past would never—could never—happen again. She had seen to that. But, her aunt's yin was strong and her yang stores made her presence powerful. It was difficult, even now, for Shi Po to keep her own power uneroded.

  Choosing escape as the best course, Shi Po pushed to her feet. "But I am well, Aunt. General Kang is gone, and you can make much money off his soldiers. You need have no fear."

  She barely made it to her feet before her aunt reached over and pinched her bottom, hard, making sure to twist her fingers to give the most pain. Shi Po remained standing, but only barely, while her aunt hissed in anger.

  "You stupid, stupid girl. Do you really think it has ended? He will come back. In the middle of the night. He will take everything you have. You will be lucky if he kills you!"

  Shi Po swallowed, feeling the fear that consumed her aunt, knowing that the woman's words could indeed be true. "But I do not have what he is searching for. I do not—"

  "Then find it!" hissed her aunt. "That is the only way to survive. Feed them, please them, give such feral dogs what they want and you will be allowed to live."

  Shi Po leaned forward, doing her best to intimidate in return the one person who frightened her most. "I do not have what he wants," she growled. "And I have no way to find it."

  "The Manchurian monk." Her aunt spat, barely missing Shi Po's feet. "Why would you imprison him? Why would you force a white whore on him? What did you hope to gain?"

  "I hoped to teach him!" Shi Po shot back, stung into defending herself. Why couldn't her aunt—older than she in the Tigress practice—understand the very basics of her supposed beliefs?

  "Did you want him?" Her aunt pushed away from the table, gesturing wildly as she ranted. "Did you wish to taste Manchurian yang?" She grimaced in disgust, showing her tobacco-stained teeth. "That would be bad enough, but understandable. Why would you shackle him to a ghost pig?"

  Shi Po had no answer. Some things she did with little logic; Shi Po did what her heart urged, and found justification for it afterward. Strategy was her aunt's province. Her aunt schemed and plotted and found success. But not immortality.

  And with that thought, Shi Po found renewed strength. "Auntie Ting," she stated firmly, "you know I force no one. Those who come to me learn of their own free will, partner their own choices, and practice in their own ways." She narrowed her eyes at the older woman, daring to insult she who had once mentored her. "You of all people understand the choices that face a Tigress."

  Her aunt straightened, no doubt feeling the implied criticism but too sure of herself to care. "You are a fool. Do you not remember your fortune? An earth person is what you are. Common dirt, ruled by your passions, moved only by extreme fire. It is only because of me that you married your golden husband. Without me, they would have shackled you to that other idiot. So all that you have, you owe to me."

  "Auntie Ting—"

  "Listen, foolish girl, leave Shanghai now. Tonight. Before disaster falls—"

  "And crashes upon you as well?" Shi Po challenged. That was her aunt's true fear.

  "Of course! Would you repay my kindness by visiting disaster on us both? Would you—"

  "There is no danger!" Shi Po exclaimed. "General Kang-"

  "There is always danger!" her aunt snapped. "Wherever there are Manchurians, the Han people suffer." She shook her head, her horror clear. "You have grown soft with your rich husband and your silly school. You believe you are safe when in truth you are more vulnerable than ever. You stupid, stupid child!"

  She would have gone on. Indeed, Auntie Ting's face was red with yang fire, her spirit already caught up in the flow of the larger circle. She would not be able to stop herself now for many hours.

  Or, she wouldn't stop unless Kui Yu interfered. Which he did. Right at that moment, he wandered in, his expression cheerful though his eyes were hard. And though he tried to hide it from her, Shi Po understood that he had been listening at the door. Kui Yu knew exactly what had been said, and his temper had reached its limits.

  But no man would admit to eavesdropping, so he pretended to be simple, smiled with his teeth but not his eyes, and waved an empty teacup. "Ah, there you are, my wife. My tea does not taste right. Are you sure the maids gave me the right brew? It's not one of your womanly potions, is it? Will I wake tomorrow with breasts?"

  Shi Po frowned at his crude remark. He was playing down to her aunt's expectations, pretending to be no better than a coolie. And true enough, Auntie Ting turned her venom on Kui Yu.

  "You are your father's son," she said, the insult plain in her voice. After all, Kui Yu's ancestors were the most common of common in Shanghai. "How pleased I am that I was able to bring you two together in marriage.
"

  Kui Yu's eyes narrowed, his fury growing. And yet, neither he nor Shi Po could deny Auntie Ting's part in their union.

  So Kui Yu stepped closer to his wife and extended his teacup to her. "You spend so little time with your aunt," he drawled. "I grieve that I must interrupt." The lie was evident in his voice, but then he turned, and Shi Po watched his body shift and become more languid. Just as always happened before he went on the offensive.

  "I never learned how it was that my wife came to live with you when she was so young. Her parents were always so protective of their children. How did you convince them to allow you to act as mother for even that year?"

  Shi Po could barely contain her gasp. She shrank away from her husband and her gaze darted to her aunt. Did he know? What did he suspect? Every possibility left her spirit chilled to ice.

  Not so her aunt. Auntie Ting had long since perfected the skill of creative half-truths. "Ah," she simpered, "without a son or daughter of my own, what could my sister do but share?"

  "What a great boon my wife must have been to you then. A comfort when your husband died."

  Auntie Ting grinned, her smile stretching wide in her powdered face. "I could not have managed without her."

  Shi Po shuddered, and her knees weakened as memories crowded into her mind. She banished them, of course, but not without cost, and she soon found herself sitting, her hands too weak to even tremble. Meanwhile, Kui Yu stepped closer and dropped a single, large hand on her shoulder. "So you have much to be grateful for from my wife."

  "Ah," returned her aunt, "but we are like mother and daughter, she and I. The one supports the other in times of need." She leaned forward, her small eyes gleaming with threat. "She has asked for my advice, Kui Yu, and I have given it. See how pale she is? She knows she has brought danger to your home. She knows you must leave Shanghai immediately. Visit your sons at their tutor's home, look for a new property to buy in Canton—anything you like, but you must leave now."

  Kui Yu frowned and his gaze slid to Shi Po. "Do you fear General Kang?" he asked her quietly. "We can—"

  "No," Shi Po answered quickly. She would not be chased from her home by an old woman's fears. "The monk has fled. The General has searched our home. We are of no more use to him."

  "The General does not believe it," her aunt pressed. "He will think you have hidden—"

  "He searched everywhere," Shi Po interrupted. "But if you fear for yourself, then by all means, run. Perhaps we can help you with money—"

  "Idiot girl!" her aunt snapped. "I have ten times the gold your husband—"

  "Then you have no need for our help," interrupted Kui Yu. "Good fortune, Mrs. Sung. Please write us when you feel safe again, and let us know where you settle." He took hold of the older woman's arm, firmly escorting her from the room. "We will not keep you from your packing."

  Then she was gone, and Kui Yu with her, no doubt escorting her all the way out the front gate. That left Shi Po alone, her hands shaking, her body in turmoil. Fear was her aunt's constant companion, but it leeched into Shi Po whenever the woman visited. Frustration, abuse, and twisted practice had made Auntie Ting the wealthy widow she now was. But did that make the woman wrong? Was there truly a reason to fear?

  Shi Po didn't know, and so she sat in numb silence, her hands twisting her husband's abandoned teacup around and around. Until Kui Yu returned to the room.

  "Why do you allow her to come here?" he demanded. "Why does she speak to you that way?"

  Shi Po looked up and saw yang burning in his eyes. He had such power even in so small a thing as the way he stood: his legs spread, his fists planted on his hips. His power was obvious, and yet he stood before her and asked questions. How many times had her uncle stood just the same way, even when his legs shook with the effort? How many times had he ordered her aunt to perform? Ordered his niece to do his bidding? And to what end?

  "I am most fortunate in my husband," she murmured. "I should be grateful." She was. And she wasn't.

  Kui Yu grimaced, his lips pressing into a tight line as he settled across from her at the table. "What happened between you and her?"

  "She is worried that General Kang will harm her out of spite toward me."

  Kui Yu shook his head. "No, what happened when you were a child? Why do you allow her to bully you? You give her more respect than you ever gave Lun Po, and he is head of your family."

  She felt her lips curve in a mocking smile. "My brother is an idiot. My aunt is not."

  "Your aunt is bitter and afraid. She poisons your yin."

  Shi Po reared back, startled by his understanding. Surprised too by his knowledge of yin and yang, of poison and purity. "How do you know these terms?"

  He shook his head, refusing to be distracted. "Tell me truthfully, Shi Po. Do you fear General Kang? Will he come for us this night?"

  She bit her lip. "The monk is gone. He and the white woman."

  "We can leave. Now. I have gold hidden nearby."

  She shook her head. "He has no reason to take us."

  Kui Yu nodded, but did not look convinced.

  Shi Po pushed to her feet. She walked around the table so she could touch her husband, stroke his brow, and send him yin to balance out the yang that Auntie Ting always evoked in anyone she met.

  "Do not fear, my husband. I will see that no harm comes to us from my actions."

  He turned and grabbed her hand. "Do you not understand? It is a man's job to protect his family. A man should see to your safety." He pressed his lips to her palm. "I am your husband. I will see to—"

  "There is no danger," she stated firmly. "I know exactly what to do."

  His hands tightened. "I can protect us. We can leave."

  She jerked backward hard enough so that he was forced to release her or give her bruises. He chose to relax his fingers. And when she was free, she pulled herself to her full height. "This is women's business. It will be handled in a woman's way."

  He didn't answer, but watched her with dark eyes and a rising flush. Shi Po stood before him, her back straight, her mind clamoring for escape. But this was her husband. She owed him respect. So she stood and waited for his answer, even though she had already chosen her course.

  "Very well," he finally said, his voice heavy with hidden meaning. "You handle your women's business. I will handle a man's."

  She frowned, wondering what he meant, but he did not elaborate. Instead, he strode out of the room. It bothered her that she knew so little of his business. He traded with the whites: Shanghai cotton for gold. Silks for... what? Once for medicine, but the other times? He was so secretive. But then, so was she.

  She heard him call for a messenger. He meant to write letters, she guessed. He had his "man's plans and his man's goals."

  Which was as it should be. Because he was the man. But she had her own plans. And in this, the Tigress would jump higher than the Dragon.

  December 3, 1878

  Dear Lun Po—

  I grieve to hear of your uncle's illness. How like your sister to give up her marriage plans to help your aunt care for him. Only the most wholesome of daughters would delay her future to tend to an old man. Truly, Shi Po will be lauded throughout China as a chaste and filial daughter. Indeed, I have written bad poetry to that effect. Fortunately, I have consigned my efforts to the fire. My offerings are much too coarse for one of your ancestry. And yet, I cannot seem to help myself. When I grow tired of endless rendering in ugly English, my brush begins to wander and I find myself composing as a means of escape. Shi Po has ever been my inspiration. It is only fitting that I write poetry to her when I tire of the English.

  I have saved the best offering here. It is terrible, but all that I have. Please attach it to this year's New Year's gift. I have left space on the page for your red chop, though I think perhaps you should sign it with your own hand.

  The gift is a bolt of the finest red silk. I realized after I purchased it that it is too expensive a present from you, but I have a ready excus
e for you. Tell her that you have saved your food money, skipping your breakfast meal just to buy her a present. And if she will not believe that, then confess with all embarrassment that you have been selling your poems.

  I must return to evaluating silks for shipment to Europe. I am even gaining a moderate understanding of horses. In truth, the whites seem to long to become Manchurians, thinking ideal life can only be accomplished upon the backs of these large beasts. They even adore the same smelly cheeses!

  I suppose it is our curse that they are drawn to our more refined culture. And yet, in the way of all barbarians, they seek to control everything—even what they do not understand. Given that, China will always be besieged. Fortunately, we Han Chinese have learned how to remain ourselves even when subjugated by other people. And perhaps we will one day learn warfare and business from them. Then, truly, we will rise to an exalted place among all men.

  In sincerity,

  Kui Yu

  A flower blossoms among thousands.

  A pearl lost beneath sea and shell and sand.

  The sage sees the perfection of color.

  The merchant prices the single pearl.

  The poor man weeps as he labors.

  Once there was a Grand Commander who spoiled his children. He came home one day to find his son without a coat on, kneeling on the snow-covered ground. When asked why, his son confessed he was being punished by his grandmother for wrongdoing. Upon hearing this, the General took off his coat and knelt in the snow beside his son.

  His mother, hearing of her son's bizarre behavior, came out to ask why.

  "You're making my son suffer and catch cold," the Grand Commander answered. "So I'm making your son suffer and catch cold, too!"

  Chapter 5

  Shi Po walked through the classroom, idly tracing her fingers over a blank wall. When she taught, a scroll hung there. She closed her eyes, remembering the text.

  Whoever brings together movement, breath, and semen becomes indestructible.

 

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