"This won't be clutter. We need it."
"If we truly need it, don't go to that furniture maker. He's a poor craftsman. Go to the better one in the center of the village."
"The one I'm going to is cheaper, and what we need made can be crude, so long as it's functional."
"What do we need made?" asked Wei Ping.
"You'll see," said Stepmother with a sly smile. "The annual cave festival is coming up soon. We have to be ready."
Xing Xing had practically forgotten about the cave festival. It was a wonderful event. The whole village celebrated it together, not just the people who lived in the cave homes. It took place in Xing Xing's favorite park.
They ate a breakfast of rice toasted to a crunchy golden brown. Then Stepmother left in a hurry.
When Xing Xing picked up the water bucket and prepared to go to the pool, Wei Ping called out, "Take me with you."
Though Wei Ping was thin, she was much larger than Xing Xing and therefore weighed more. This reality, however, was not something to point out. "I could never manage you and the water bucket at the same time. I'd spill every drop," said Xing Xing diplomatically.
"I'll walk, of course," said Wei Ping. "We just have to go slowly."
"The hill is steep," said Xing Xing.
"Take me with you," pleaded Wei Ping. "I have to practice walking so that I can have fun at the cave festival too. Please take me with you, Sister."
Xing Xing knew Wei Ping was manipulating her by calling her "Sister." But she couldn't help her reaction. She smiled, and the girls slowly made their way together down to the pool.
As Xing Xing approached the water, her beautiful fish mother surfaced and rested her head on the bank. Xing Xing knelt and fed the fish leftovers from breakfast, as she did every morning.
"What a remarkable fish," said Wei Ping, coming up behind her.
The fish quickly dove and disappeared.
"Didn't you recognize her?"
Wei Ping looked at Xing Xing, then her eyes widened. "But you can't mean that's the same fish that used to swim in the bowl on the kang beside me."
"The very same," said Xing Xing.
"But that's delightful," said Wei Ping. "Our fish! , And she's grown miraculously. She's longer than an adult man."
The girl was right. Xing Xing's fish mother had grown enormous, and her beauty had increased accordingly. Xing Xing smiled.
"I want to see her again," said Wei Ping. "You fed her, didn't you? I saw you. I want to feed her too. I think she's lovely too."
"I don't have any food left," said Xing Xing. "And she's gone off. You can feed her the next time you come down to the pool with me."
"I don't want to wait till the next time," said Wei Ping. "I want to see her now." She sat down at the pool's edge. "Come, dear fish," she called. "Come back and let me see you."
But the fish didn't come.
After awhile Xing Xing filled the bucket, and with many rests along the way, the girls returned to the cave.
When Stepmother came in later, Wei Ping couldn't wait to tell her about the fish. "She's huge, Mother. You should see. And she's even prettier than she was before."
"Are you sure this is the same fish?" asked Stepmother.
"Xing Xing feeds her every day," said Wei Ping, nodding. "She feeds her with her shizhi, the forefinger she uses to feed herself. Just as though the fish was a family member. The fish comes right up to her and sticks her head out on the bank."
Stepmother looked at Xing Xing so suspiciously, the girl's lips went cold. "I have to see this for myself," she said. She went back out the door.
"Talk to us first," cried out Wei Ping. "Tell us about this mysterious furniture you're having made."
"That can wait," said Stepmother brusquely. She limped down the hill.
It was a long time before she managed to make it back. She dropped onto the kang, completely tuckered out.
"Isn't she all that I said?" exclaimed Wei Ping, clasping her hands under her chin. "Isn't she just the most wonderful fish ever?"
"Silly girls make up silly stories," said Stepmother. "But it isn't a laughing matter when it costs me so much toil to go down to the pool and back."
"We didn't make anything up," said Wei Ping. "We're not children. Maybe you frightened the fish. I must have frightened her too, because she wouldn't come for me, either. But she comes out for Xing Xing. I saw her. And tomorrow I'm going to see her again, and I'll be the one to feed her."
"Is this true, Xing Xing?" asked Stepmother. "Is there really a fish? And does it come out for you?"
Xing Xing was surprised that Stepmother used her real name. Maybe the woman had sensed the presence of Father's spirit. Or maybe she was merely trying to manipulate the girl, like Wei Ping had done this morning. Fingers of dread twined around her throat. She couldn't even swallow the saliva that gathered at the back of her tongue.
But, really, she shouldn't have such a reaction. There was no reason for Stepmother to manipulate Xing Xing. The woman could get anything she wanted from the girl by simply ordering her around.
"Yes," answered Xing Xing, forcing herself to move beyond the unreasonable dread.
"Well, maybe someday you'll show her to me," said Stepmother lightly, as though it were of little importance after all. "In the meantime, if you're still curious ..." She looked teasingly at Wei Ping. "I have things to tell you."
Chapter 20
The things Stepmother told them held both girls spellbound. Emperor Hung Wu wanted all of China to be united. As the son of heaven, he was China's leader both morally and politically. He was the one and only person who could mediate between heaven and earth, and he had decided that customs that varied from province to province interfered with the harmonious functioning of the cosmos. Instead, all festivals, from the local to the national, should be similar and follow new ceremonial regulations that would ensure the unity of China.
"Our local cave festival will be very different this year," said Stepmother. "Much more elaborate."
"In what ways?" asked Wei Ping. "Tell us."
"There will be dancing and acrobatics and, well, I don't know everything," said Stepmother. "But one thing is sure: People will come from far away to take part. Men. Who knows, maybe even the local prince will come. He hasn't taken one single wife yet. All the unmarried women are going to dress up beautifully. This is our opportunity, at last."
Wei Ping laughed with the joy of anticipation.
But Xing Xing felt like crying. If all the girls were supposed to dress up beautifully, she couldn't possibly go to the festival, for her clothes were nothing more than tatters.
"And the furniture you're having made?" said Wei Ping. "Tell us about it, Mother. What is it?"
"I'll do better. I'll show you. He assembled it instantly." Stepmother went outside and came back a few moments later saying, "A one-wheeled cart." She pushed it into the room.
Wei Ping scrunched up her nose. "That's a barrow. What will we do with an ugly barrow?"
"You'll sit in it and be pushed to the edge of the festival."
"What? I don't want to arrive in a barrow, like a bunch of radishes."
"No one will see. We'll go through the woods. That's why I wanted the cart to have but a single wheel, which can be easily maneuvered. Xing Xing can grease the wheel with bear fat so that it makes no noise at all. When we get there, we'll stash the cart behind a bush, and you'll come out, as fresh and happy as any girl with bound feet who is carried by a servant."
"That's a good idea, Mother. A very good idea. And will you get Master Tang's slave boy to push the barrow?"
"We don't need him."
"We don't?"
Stepmother looked at Xing Xing.
"Of course," said Wei Ping. "Xing Xing is so strong."
Half of Xing Xing wanted to object. She couldn't face the shame of being in rags when everyone else was in their best finery. The other half of her grasped at any chance to see the dancing and acrobatics Stepmother had talked about. And,
after all, shame wasn't called for. Instead, what she should feel is humility. It was good for anyone to feel humility. She met Stepmother's eyes and held them, almost proudly. "I'll scrub my dress and darn the holes," she said.
"No, you won't," said Stepmother. "I'm going in my mourning sackcloth, of course. So you could certainly go in your tatters. But you won't." She went over to her sewing basket and took out the dress she'd finished the night before. "You'll wear this."
"Really?"
"Haven't you worked hard? You deserve it."
Tears of gratitude sprang to Xing Xing's eyes.
"But what about me?" said Wei Ping. "What will I wear?"
"I'll make you something splendid," said Stepmother. "I'll go into the village tomorrow and buy red silk and gold embroidery thread. And I'll make matching slippers for your feet, so they look like perfect lilies."
"Yes," said Wei Ping. "You're full of good ideas today, Mother."
Stepmother tilted her head toward Xing Xing. "Come here."
Xing Xing ran to Stepmother, who held the dress up to her.
"Try it on."
Xing Xing turned her back for modesty's sake. She took off her rags and pulled the new dress on.
"It's large," said Stepmother. "That will allow you to dance better. Decent women should never be in tight dresses."
Xing Xing ran her hands down the front of the dress. The yellow was as beautiful as sunlight. Her fingers touched each claw of the dragon Stepmother had embroidered on the bodice. She was perfectly happy.
"Time to get back to work," said Stepmother.
Xing Xing turned and started to pull the dress off.
Stepmother's hand stopped her. "You have a very different job tonight. Wear your dress and go to the spring behind the temple near the village. Drink deeply of its water and bring a pail of it back to us. But don't hurry. Instead, sit there and compose until dinnertime."
"Compose?" said Xing Xing.
"There will be poetry recitations at the cave festival. Everyone is supposed to compose ci verse, with tonal patterns modeled after folk tunes. Master Tang's wife told me you are good at poetry, and surely you know many folk tunes. You can represent our family."
"But what should my poem be about?" asked Xing Xing.
"Unloved wild geese, with broken hearts. Rain cooling the earth. Suffering. You know the sort of thing that goes into these poems. You can do this."
Xing Xing had thought she was perfectly happy just a moment ago, but now she was so much happier. Her breath was as light as a hummingbird's.
Chapter 21
The spring burbled quietly. Besides the river, there were not many sources of fresh water in this area—the pool near Xing Xing's cave and this spring were notable in a dry land. To one side of the spring was the temple, but in the other three directions spread a well-manicured garden of flowering trees and bushes, with stone statues of monkeys here and there and a pool full of pink lotus blossoms. An artificial stone mountain rose from the center of the pool, covered with thick green moss. Duckweed floated on the surface. Xing Xing dipped her hand in under the tiny leaves; the water below was cool.
A sudden longing closed around her. She wanted to be with Father, to put this cool water on his face as he worked, to dig the clay for his pots, to eat with him and sing with him and rest in the crook of his arm. Her eyes hurt with held-back tears. How foolish of her to feel this way at this very moment. Hadn't Stepmother just given her a dress more beautiful than any she'd ever hoped to wear? Stepmother had made the dress herself—and she'd chosen Xing Xing to wear it. Her life was changing. The certainty of that should open her to sweetness now, not to sorrow. She should regain the joy she felt as she left the cave to come here. She looked around and willed her eyes to welcome the goodness of this garden.
Her eyes didn't disappoint her. As the sun waned and the air cooled a bit now, too, birds came from their hiding places in the tree canopy and hopped or walked along the water's edge. Black-throated robins and white-throated redstarts. Tiny yellow-streaked warblers and large red-billed starlings. Xing Xing delighted most in the blue-rumped pitta, with its black hood, white collar, yellow belly, and greenish blue back. She sat very still for a long, long time.
The happiness she'd felt at Stepmother's unexpected announcements had made her giddy, and in that giddiness she'd forgotten to bring paper, brush, and ink. That was just as well, though, because a ci should be composed with the most attention to its sound rather than to the appearance of the characters on the paper. Indeed, most of the people who would compose ci for the cave festival probably didn't know how to write; instead, they'd simply memorize their poems. So, as Xing Xing finally began the poem, she spoke aloud and played with the sounds of words until she was satisfied.
Feathers flutter and brush and slice through the air
Claws scrape and grasp what they dare
Beaks poke and dig and scoop and click
Songs brag and flatter and flick
There's nothing quiet about birds among flowers
Aren't we glad, aren't we lucky, to witness these powers.
Xing-Xing got up and drank deeply of the spring, as Stepmother had told her to do. She filled the pail with springwater, as Stepmother had told her to do. Then she walked quickly. Stepmother had told her not to hurry, but she felt she should, because she wasn't going directly back to the cave. Instead, she headed to Master Tang's home. She wanted to try out her ci on Mei Zi, to see if her teacher would recognize the folk tune it was based on and to read the reaction in the old woman's expressive face.
But when she got to Master Tang's home, the old man stopped her in the courtyard. "Mei Zi is too busy to be bothered right now," he said gently, after hearing why she'd come. "Show your poem to me." He settled on the bench with a bowl of rice wine in one hand.
"I haven't actually written it down," said Xing Xing. "It's meant to be told aloud."
"Then I'll listen." Master Tang stretched out his legs and leaned back on the bench.
So Xing Xing half spoke, half sang her ci.
Master Tang smiled. "Can you run in that fine dress?"*
"I think so."
"Then run in a circle for me. Many times."
Xing Xing ran around the courtyard. Finally, she dropped onto the bench beside Master Tang.
"Do you feel better now?" said Master Tang. "You needed a good run."
"I guess I do," said Xing Xing. "But how did you know I needed a run?"
"You must have sat quiet a long time before you composed this poem. Birds among flowers aren't noisy if people are."
Xing Xing laughed.
"You have grown into a very attractive young woman, Xing Xing. That new dress does you justice". Where did you get it?"
"Stepmother made it for me." Xing Xing couldn't keep the pride out of her voice.
"She's generous to all of us these days, it seems," said Master Tang. "Aren't we lucky? Like in your poem."
"Has she been generous to you?" asked Xing Xing in surprise.
"Indeed. That's why Mei Zi has no time to talk with you now. Your stepmother brought us so much food this afternoon, Mei Zi is working with the cook, preparing a meal for all our relatives."
"I'm so glad," said Xing Xing, though a high-pitched hum had started in her eardrums and her stomach felt unsettled. "You've been generous to us so many times, lending us the help of your slave boy."
"It's not just us. Your stepmother had our boy deliver fish to most of the families on this side of the hill." He finished his wine. "Extraordinary, she is."
The hum in Xing Xing's ears turned to a drum that accented every word Master Tang said.
"Come back tomorrow," said the old man. "I'm sure Mei Zi will want to hear your poem. The artistry of it reveals your soul. You are a fine maiden, Xing Xing. As the saying goes, 'When accomplishments and character are equally matched, we then have a person of virtue.'"
Xing Xing bowed her thanks for the kind words, then walked carefully along the path toward
the cave, holding the pail of springwater in front of her like an offering. She could smell dinner before she got inside. Delicious fermented soybeans. And other things. Things she knew very well. The drumming in her ears was so loud, she could hardly hear anything else. She entered the cave feeling strangely dissociated from her body, as though she were two people at once: Xing Xing and the spirit of Xing Xing, one walking, the other floating.
She took the new dress off without turning her back to the others. Modesty meant nothing in this moment. She draped the dress across the back of a chair. Her old dress was folded neatly on her bed. She put it on. The hem stuck to her legs. It was wet. She peeled it from her skin and held the hem to her nose. It smelled of nothing new, just all the old familiar things. She pressed it to her cheek, then let it fall.
They ate at the kang. Stepmother had prepared a stew of many ingredients, all cut up tiny.
Xing Xing studied the bowl. "Why is everything cut so small?" she asked with a new boldness. Perhaps this was her spirit self, speaking with the voice of a drum.
"Zie peng—cutting—is equivalent to cooking," said Stepmother. "And small pieces cook faster and save fuel, so girls like you don't have to gather so much firewood." She picked up her spoon and ate a big bite. Then she yawned. "These days all the best cooks chop food finely, but it's certainly exhausting." She looked over at Xing Xing. "Eat," she said.
"I taste millet and mallow and reeds and bamboo shoots," said Xing Xing slowly, as though talking in a trance.
"And fish, of course," said Wei Ping. "This stew is twice as good as usual, Mother."
Chapter 22
In the morning Xing Xing squeezed rice and peas into a ball with her hands and nibbled at it before anyone else had woken. She hadn't eaten but a spoonful of the stew the night before, so she was hungry. Still, she saved an extra-large portion of her breakfast and hurried down the hill with the water bucket and carrying pole.
Her beautiful fish mother did not come to the bank.
Xing Xing knew the fish wouldn't come, but at the same time she wouldn't allow it to be true. All night long she had fought off the unspeakable idea. She would keep fighting.
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