She obviously struggled with his words. Indeed, such thoughts were difficult for him as well. So he sat down in a chair across from her and leaned forward to explain. "The Chinese believe every child has a large number of influences upon them: the year, date, and time of birth, the legacy of parent and grandparent, even birth order as compared to siblings—all these things contribute to a child's basic nature."
She nodded. "There are those in English society who believe that as well."
He nodded. "So you understand. It is every child's responsibility to make the best of what he is born with, to bring honor to family and ancestor." He spoke without inflection, stating simple fact; and yet, his blood cooled with his words and parts of his body went numb.
"But what if a child can't make the best of it? William can't..." She looked into the fire, unable to finish. "Do you know he's heir to a baronetcy? He'll never inherit, of course. Uncle Phillip will eventually have something other than daughters. But still... what if he did? He can't possibly be a baron. He can't even tie his own shoes."
"Your brother has a path, but every time he tries to walk it, he is hemmed in by your expectations."
She stared at him, stricken. "Mine?"
He shrugged. "All of you. To your mother, William is a punishment. To your father, he is..."
"An embarrassment."
He nodded. "And to you—"
"I just want him to be my brother," she whispered.
He didn't answer. They both knew she wanted more, and in time she dropped her gaze. "Is it wrong for me to want him to dress himself? To grow like other boys?"
"Of course not." He wanted to touch her, but he could not; she held herself too far apart. "Have you not noticed that William takes off his clothes when he is hot? That he sings when he is happy? That he dances and sits whenever he wants?"
"That he kicks and screams when he wants," she added dryly.
"But only when his natural desires are stopped."
She looked at him, completely appalled. "You cannot be suggesting we allow him to run wild."
He shook his head. "No, of course not. Compromises must always be made. A child must learn discipline."
She nodded. "But you think we are instilling too much?"
He looked at his hands, wondering why they were so cold. The fire in the hearth was hot, the room pleasant, but his hands felt shrunken and chill. "I believe," he finally said, "that the weight of everyone's hopes distorts William's qi—his energies—and distorted qi brings on fits."
"Can his energies—his qi—can it be balanced? With those needles?"
"Not by an acupuncturist. The problem is too scattered." Her expression became tormented, so he rushed forward to clasp her hands. The heat from her fingers was painfully intense, especially when compared to his own chilled flesh, but he pressed tightly so that she would listen.
"William's qi is very strong." She shook her head, ready to argue, but he spoke firmly. "Qi is energy, not intelligence. Sometimes the lowest beast has the strongest qi. The boy's energy presence... believe me when I say it is very strong."
Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know this?"
He shrugged. "I feel it. I have purified my energy to the extent that I can feel very strong fields." He did not admit that the reason he was so sensitive was that his energy was so very weak. Instead, he focused on her. "You also are very strong."
"And my parents?"
He sighed. "Your father is very weak. You should not be surprised by that."
She nodded, and her words came out on a sigh. "Weak in will, weak in discipline."
"But your mother is very strong. Her prayers make her very powerful."
Charlotte tilted her head. "So, I should pray to make William better? Just like my mother..."
Her voice trailed away as he shook his head. How to explain an entire philosophy in one moment? "Your mother's qi is strong, but she focuses that energy on making William into her punishment."
"But she is praying to make him better!"
He shook his head. "She is praying to absolve her sins, which she believes will make William better. She does not support him, Miss Charlotte. She makes him into a divine tool to beat herself."
"And that's why he has episodes?"
"What happened just before his last fit?"
"My mother..." She swallowed and looked away. "My mother went in to comfort him. But she was probably angry. My father was gone all night. She said..." Charlotte pushed out of her chair. "She said William's fit was God's punishment because father was gone all night."
"And her energy would have pushed exactly that thought onto William."
"Creating the fit?"
Ken Jin nodded. "I believe so."
She stared at him. She stood before the fire, the hot coals creating visible waves of heat and light about her body, and yet the energy went nowhere. It was like the energy of many barbarians: all-enveloping but chaotic. It usually dissipated without direction or focus.
"Where did you learn this, Ken Jin? It sounds very odd."
He looked down at his hands. He should have known better than to expect a white person to grasp this concept, especially a woman. And yet, he desperately wished her to understand. A yin goddess should know what she was.
"You have such power, Miss Charlotte. You should learn to direct it."
"I thought we were supposed to 'grow naturally, without interference.'"
He pushed to his feet, irritated with himself for trying so hard. The barbarians did not understand the nature of things, they would not even try. Why was he wasting his breath? "Your qi has grown, Miss Charlotte. It has grown to the size of a great river of molten gold, but it is not refined and it is not directed. It can do no good for anyone in that state."
She folded her arms, no doubt responding to his angry tone. "I want to help William, not—"
"William must be left in peace, to grow as his energies direct, but your mother will not allow that."
She growled in frustration. "I cannot change my mother. I am not even sure I should." She reached up and toyed with the crucifix that hung just above the mantel. There was at least one in every room, four in the nursery. "My people put a great deal of faith in our God."
"Does your God direct that a child should be a punishment to the parents?"
She bit her lip. He knew she and her priest argued the point constantly. "Father Peter believes in vengeance, that sin is punished."
He nodded. "I believe our energies create our punishments." He waited for her to make a decision. When she did not, he pushed her. "What do you believe, Miss Charlotte?"
She turned back to the fire, gazing deep into the coals as if the answer was written in the shifting patterns of light and heat. Finally she spoke, her voice a low crackle of sound. "I believe that my mother's prayers have not worked."
She abruptly straightened. She had been so drawn to the flame, so connected to it, for a moment it seemed to Ken Jin that she had stepped out from the hearth, growing from the flames into a living, breathing woman of fire. Her energy infused the room and tingled against his skin. "What must I do?" she asked.
He straightened, doing his best not to smile. "You must take off all your clothes."
She didn't react at first; she simply stared at him. But he knew white women. He had spent many years harvesting yin from virgins and trollops alike. All they needed was a reason. Usually he talked about pleasure, explained away their fears, whatever they were, and eventually they all surrendered to him. Miss Charlotte would be no different. Especially since she now had the best reason of all to surrender: She needed to purify her yin. She needed to understand how to use the power she possessed.
None of his thoughts showed on his face. Virgins, he knew, were especially skittish. But in time Charlotte released a soft exhale, surrender expressed in the most feminine of sounds. Ken Jin took a step forward to assist her with her clothing.
"I thought you were different, Ken Jin. I thought..." Her voice broke on the last w
ord, and he frowned at her in confusion. Then she took a deep breath and focused. Her next words were delivered with strength and the heady power of full qi.
"Go pack your bags, Ken Jin. You're fired."
March 1, 1889
To Tigress Tan Shi Po:
Your assistant does indeed seem a most excellent young man. I envy you his strength and influence. Alas, I know of no magician who can aid him in reclaiming all that was lost to him. As much as he may wish to reunite with his family, other forces conspire against him.
I understand the difficulty of an insane family. You recall that my son and daughter-in-law are acupuncturists. They daily cleanse and strengthen their patients' qi energies, and yet they have the hardest hearts and most clogged energies of all. Even their last remaining son—the new heir—learns to close his ears to all I might teach them.
Evil indeed befalls all when the young refuse to listen to the wisdom of their elders.
In great pain,
Wen Ai Men
Spiritual Practices
Transforming Anger
Press BIO (Heavenly Pillar, located on the back of your upper neck one finger-width below your skull and one finger-width out from the center of the spine on both sides.)
Press CV17 (Sea of Tranquility, located on the center of the breastbone, four finger-widths up from the bone's base).
Acupressure for Emotional Healing
Michael Gach, Ph.D, Beth Henning, Dipl, ABT
Chapter 7
Charlotte smiled as her pronouncement finally made it through Ken Jin's thick head.
"I'm fired?" He gaped at her. Clearly he had expected her to just strip bare on his say-so. She was just a woman, after all, and he had a great deal of experience with women of easy virtue.
Well, he was an idiot if he put her in the same category as all the others. She was not so easily duped. Or at least she wasn't now. Last night she'd been sleepy and surprised, or so she told herself. She was past her moment of feverish curiosity.
A day's reflection brought the certain understanding that something had to change with William. They could not go on this way: living from fit to fit, praying for a change but seeing no real results. She had spoken to Ken Jin in all seriousness about a way to help William. But rather than offer her an answer, he turned it into another sexual game. Did he really think she was that stupid? That desperate?
"M-Miss Charlotte," he stammered, unsuccessfully trying to both step forward and rear back. "I cannot... You couldn't..."
"I can and I have." She stared at him while disappointment crushed the breath from her lungs. "I thought you were different, Ken Jin. I thought I could talk to you about something serious." She straightened slowly and deliberately turned her back on him. "You are fired. Go collect your things and leave. I shall inform my father—"
"Your father will have your head!" he snapped. He sounded very English. Much like her father, come to think of it.
She spun around, undaunted. "I very much doubt that."
"He knows nothing about his business. If I leave, your family will end in disaster!"
His words sent a cold chill down her spine, but that only made her angrier. Her hands clenched as she leaned forward. "My father may be a lecherous beast, but he is not stupid," she hissed. "He understands his business. I know he does."
Ken Jin's color darkened; his body stilled. She could tell he was furious, and the sight was disconcerting. He was so unlike the explosive tempers to which she was accustomed. Her father blustered, her mother wailed; William threw fits, and even Charlotte herself had been known to kick things. Ken Jin just stood there and froze her with a stare.
"I tell you," he said coldly, "your father knows nothing of what I do on your behalf. Without me, you will soon be impoverished."
"And with you, I shall be debauched by morning!" She gasped and clapped her mouth shut. That wasn't at all what she'd meant to say. Especially since Ken Jin seemed amused by her words. He began to smile, and it wasn't a nice expression.
"You think I play games," he said. "You think I am a... a..." He could not find the right English, so he switched to Chinese. "That I am a whoremonger." He sneered. "Why do you English judge everyone by your own immorality?"
"You told me to take off my clothes!"
"I do not do this for my pleasure!" He made a gesture with his hand, fast and lethal like a branch whipped about in a strong wind. "You are the one who plays, Miss Charlotte. You are the bored one who steals sacred scrolls and plays with herself in the darkness, never knowing that it could be more." He shook his head, his disgust clear. "You cannot fire me, Miss Charlotte, and you cannot drag me into your emptiness." He sighed. "I thought to teach you."
"And I believed you!" she cried. "But I am not talking about last night. I want to help William." She released a hiss of disgust at her own gullibility. "But all you want is more..." She stopped, the memory of what they'd done last night fresh, too mortifying for words.
"What, Miss Charlotte? What do I want? To bury my dragon between your milky thighs?" He grunted. "That is what you want, not me."
She gasped at his audacity, even as her belly quivered. What would it feel like to have him there? "I want nothing from you," she snapped. She meant to turn her back on him. She was already pivoting, but suddenly he had her. His hand was large and powerful where it gripped her arm. He pulled her back around with such force that she would have stumbled had he not been holding her.
"Never lie, Miss Charlotte. Not to anyone, and most certainly never to yourself. It poisons your yin, it poisons the air, it—"
"Poisons. I understand." She kept her voice excruciatingly dry as she glared at him. They both knew she had enjoyed what he'd done last night, so instead she spoke clearly and with a great deal of force. "I want to help my brother." She lifted her chin. "I have no interest in games of any kind."
He nodded. "Then we are in agreement." She frowned, but he gave her no more time to question. "What I do is not play, Miss Charlotte. It is serious work—harder than anything you have ever done, harder than anything you will ever do."
She narrowed her eyes and canted her gaze in the direction of her brother's room, then returned it to Ken Jin.
He answered her unspoken question. "No, I do not know that this will help your brother. I only know how to refine qi. What you do with that power is up to you." Then he fell silent.
It took a moment for her to realize he was waiting for her to speak. But what did he want her to say? In the end, she shook her head, using body and tone to show her disbelief.
"And refinement requires me to be naked?"
"A sheathed sword cannot be sharpened."
She spent a moment on that image, but couldn't make it fit. "I am not a sword—"
Once again, he moved faster than expected. He gripped her chin and pulled so that she looked him in the eye. He was tall for a Chinese, so she had to tilt slightly upward. When had he moved so near? She stared at the reflected firelight in his eyes.
"Listen closely, barbarian, and try to understand. I will only explain this once more." She shivered at the threat in his tone. He was at the end of his patience. "Qi—energy—is a force, a powerful, awesome weapon. Refined, it can even kill." He moderated his tone. "Or defend."
"Can it heal?"
He nodded, though the motion was hesitant.
"You don't really know," she accused.
"No one knows all. Qi is a thing of mystery. We can only know some aspects of it."
She didn't know whether any of what he said was real or not, but she could tell Ken Jin believed. He believed with a passion that made his entire body tremble. Her skin tingled. She hesitated, trying to understand. "And I have this energy? This qi?"
"Yes, though it is composed of much more yin—the female energy—than the male yang." His voice softened to include a note of awe. "You have a great deal of yin, Miss Charlotte. More than anyone I have ever met."
"I have qi?" She felt her knees weakening beneath an onslaught
of power. She had no other Word for it; she felt his intensity—his qi?—and it literally weakened her knees.
"You have yin," he emphasized even as he adjusted his grip on her arm. Soon he was guiding her to her seat.
She shook her head. This was all too much. "I don't understand." Soon she was once again staring into the fire and feeling lost. How to help her brother? Was Ken Jin a liar and a cad? Or was he her last hope? "I just don't know."
He sank to his knees before her. The action was surprising enough that her attention riveted back on him. She'd never seen him on his knees. He almost looked like a supplicant. "I can teach you, Miss Charlotte. I know how to strengthen and refine qi." He took a deep breath and his fingers fluttered before her, but he did not touch. Instead, he withdrew, folding his hands tight to his belly. "I know a great deal, Miss Charlotte, but I cannot tell you how to wield your power once it is pure. And I do not know if it can heal William or divert your mother."
She sighed. "This is so strange. How do you know it is real?"
"I have seen a qi master use one finger to throw a man across a room. I have watched a Tigress bring a man to yang release with just the power of her eyes."
She blinked. "A tiger?"
"A Tigress," he repeated. "A woman who studies yin refinement. I am a Dragon."
She lifted her chin, but caught herself in time. She had almost looked at her hiding place where his precious scrolls were hidden. She had promised them to him last night, but had fallen asleep before she could give them to him. "There were tigers stitched in the silk. The ones that covered—"
"The scrolls. Yes, Joanna Crane was... She is studying to become a tigress."
It took a while for understanding to sink in. It took several long moments, but eventually her own stupidity became clear. "You are a Dragon?" He nodded. "And Joanna is a Tigress?"
He nodded again, though the motion was slower.
"That's why she has the scrolls. Because she was studying them like you study."
He shook his head. "Not like I study. I am a Dragon. My exercises are different."
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