One brief instant in the opera stood out in his mind. It was the scene where a man named Chah-Lian married three women. The first wife was jealous of the third wife. Although she was instrumental in luring the poor girl into the house to take credit for being a good wife and a dutiful daughter-in-law, the second wife tried her best to stay out of the trouble by flattering the first wife and playing blind and mute.
There were fights among the women, and the third wife was murdered. Chah-Lian, the master, was left out of the criticism. Everyone was to blame but him. The Chinese audience, including Master Ping, cursed the first wife and cheered when she was found guilty and punished.
Robert didn’t believe anyone was to blame but the man. He was selfish and irresponsible, but this was too easily said from a foreign point of view. Robert had lived here long enough to wet his shoes as the Chinese saying went when you walked on the beach. He knew better.
The idea of being with more than one woman didn’t sound as bad as it had a few months earlier. After all, he was in China—not Ireland or England with its stifling morality. There was an old saying, When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Well, Robert was in China.
On Saturday evening Robert hurried to the banker’s house. He went alone, because he did not want his girls to hear the questions he was going to ask. Before dinner, the banker took him on a tour of his home. It was huge. There were courtyards, gardens and many rooms with separate little pavilions inside the walled estate.
“Every one of my wives has a room,” the banker said. “Some of them are friends, and some of them hate one another. How they feel is not my concern. What is important is my relationship with each of them individually.”
They went into Peach’s room. The banker introduced her to Robert, who told her he had enjoyed her performance. The banker went to Peach’s closet and showed off all the garments he’d bought for her.
“She loves clothes,” he said. “It’s my pleasure to make her happy. She is the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Chinese women are trained since youth to know their positions in the family. It is not their concern to learn how many more wives a man is going to get. Their duty is to encourage him and help him get decent ones, so the family can expand. This is good for everyone. The more sons a man has, the more power he has. Same thing applies from the Emperor to a coolie—it is the way of China.”
They left Peach’s room and walked through one of the gardens back into the main part of the house. “You see, if I make my concubines happy, they make me happy. When my friends and business associates see a house full of happy wives, they see me as a man they can trust, because I am capable of creating harmony. This is the key to success in every kind of business on earth.
“Nothing is wasted in this house. When I have daughters, I arrange good marriages with the sons of my business associates. That will enlarge the family clan. After all, in China whom can you trust except family? How can a man cheat me when his wife is my daughter?”
He stopped and faced Robert. Behind the banker a forty-foot stand of bamboo, growing in a rectangular planter, was swaying with the gentle evening breeze. “May I ask if those two Chinese women I saw with you are your concubines?”
“Yes, they are,” Robert replied.
“You haven’t gained harmony?”
Robert shook his head and didn’t bother to hide his distress.
“Things will change when the younger concubine has a child. I wish for you that it will be a boy. I have five daughters and six sons.”
Robert couldn’t tell him that Shao-mei was still a virgin. He wondered why it was important for the younger concubine to conceive first. That was the opposite of what Robert was learning about Chinese culture.
“In life,” the banker said, “it’s best to seek a place where the weather is acceptable and the food is good. In other words, being hard on oneself is not true wisdom. Do you agree?”
In a month the banker rid himself of Peach, his beautiful, expensive actress. It shocked Robert when he learned the banker had thrown her out of his house. Not once while Robert was with him had there been a hint that he was unhappy with her. After all, he’d heaped praise on her.
Robert asked Master Ping about this during one of the Chinese lessons. “Hmm,” his teacher replied, after Robert described the evening at the banker’s house. “He told you she was the most beautiful woman in the world. That’s enough by itself to show that the harmony he was talking about did not exist. Remember all the expensive clothes he showed off. This woman was costing him a lot of money. I’m sure his other concubines and wives were jealous. It is obvious that she managed to get him to marry her with lies and deceit. What she was really after was his wealth. If he had loved her, he would have told you something like she was the ugliest of his wives. He would have made sure she heard him too. That way he would make her happy.
“A concubine that loves her man loves to hear him say that. It means the love between them allows him to say whatever he wants. Praise can be a warning sign that not all is well. Modesty is a virtue in China. That is because Confucius taught us to be modest. If the banker loved his wife, he would have been modest in his statements. He wasn’t.
“Also, he couldn’t admit to anyone that she took advantage of him—that he had trusted her. He would lose face. A businessman cannot afford to lose face or others will not trust his judgment. They will take their money elsewhere.”
“So I should tell Ayaou and Shao-mei they are ugly.”
“Robert—” Master Ping said, shocked. “You don’t understand what I’m saying. Listen more carefully. You do not tell your concubines they are ugly. When you have guests over for dinner, you tell your guests that they are ugly. You make sure Ayaou and Shao-mei hear you say it. If you praise them in front of others, they will have reason to worry.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” Robert said.
“Then it is better you don’t say anything about them. They will forgive you, Robert, if you do not insult them. After all, they know you are a foreigner.”
Chapter 17
That night Robert couldn’t sleep until he made the decision to act more like a Chinese man. If he were going to live with two Chinese women that he loved, he’d make an effort to behave properly. He rolled over and shook Ayaou’s shoulder. “Ayaou,” he said in a whisper. He left the bed to fumble in the dark and light the lantern.
“What’s the matter?” Ayaou asked drowsily.
“I’ve been a fool,” he said. “I want you to go out today and buy me some Chinese clothing. When I get home from the consulate, I’m going to wear those clothes and become a Chinese man. I’ll still be English at the consulate. However, from this day forward I am going to live two lives. You can expect changes that’ll be easier for both you and Shao-mei to live with.”
Ayaou squinted at Robert with one raised eyebrow. “That’s why you woke me in the middle of the night?” There was doubt in her voice.
“Also have a warm bath ready. I want to be clean for tonight.”
When Robert arrived home that evening, the Chinese clothing hung on an inside hook near the front door. The girls bought two outfits, a blue robe made of cotton lined with satin, and the other made of silver colored silk with a gray trim running along the edges. Both fit perfectly.
“This is marvelous, Ayaou. You have a natural sense of measurement.”
“It wasn’t me,” she said. “It was Shao-mei. She is the one who studied you and guessed what size would fit. If you must show gratitude for how well these robes fit, tell Shao-mei.”
He remembered that she’d been observing him closely for days. Her searching eyes and bold stare had made him feel uneasy at times. It was as if she’d been undressing him with her eyes. Robert turned to Shao-mei. “You are wonderful,” he said.
Shao-mei remained quiet and smiled with her lips zipped. She was sitting on the edge of the couch with her back ramrod straight. Robert knew she was pleased by the way her eyes glowed.
“Time
for my bath,” he said. The large wooden tub was in the kitchen half-full of steaming water that Shao-mei and Ayaou had heated. Robert did something he’d never done before—he stripped in front of them and left his clothing in a pile on the floor. The girls were startled. Shao-mei flushed—her cheeks turning the color of a peony. Robert wanted to laugh but managed to keep a sober look on his face.
He started to walk naked toward the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway and faced the girls. They were standing together in the middle of the room staring at him as if he had turned green and sprouted horns. “Move!” he said. “What are you waiting for? Get the soap and a washcloth.”
Robert pointed at his English clothing on the floor. “Ayaou, take my clothes and wash them immediately. Then hang them on the balcony to dry. Shao-mei, get over here and scrub my back with soap.”
Ayaou and Shao-mei looked at each other. They were probably thinking he’d gone crazy. Shao-mei pretended to be indifferent and walked carefully past Robert as if he were a breakable object. She went into the kitchen where she picked up the soap and held it out to Ayaou, who hadn’t moved.
“I told you to wash me. Not Ayaou.”
Shao-mei stood frozen with an open mouth and a stunned look. Robert smiled and stepped into the tub of water and sunk into it. The displaced water climbed toward the edge of the tub and covered most of his chest. He gasped. It was hot, blazing hot. He had asked for warm, not boiling. He would have to show them what warm meant. His body turned the color of a lobster. He started to sweat. After he adjusted to the scorching water, he said, “Didn’t I tell you to scrub my back?”
Still flushed, Shao-mei willed herself to walk forward. Once she was close enough, Robert pulled her closer. He took her hand that was holding the soap and placed it on his neck.
After she applied the soap, she began to scrub—her stiff, timid fingers barely touching his skin.
“Have you heard of a fable called Mr. Yip, the Dragon Man?” Robert asked.
“Yes, I have.” Shao-mei’s voice was small like a mosquito.
“Tell me about it.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. I want you to keep me entertained while you scrub me.”
The soap slipped from her fingers. She bent to retrieve it. Her awkwardness thrilled Robert. He felt sinful and stimulated at the same time. Disregarding his will, Robert’s member began to grow. As he now saw it, his duty was to bring happiness to both of his concubines so harmony moved into this house and stayed. The banker had made sense. If it were important for Shao-mei to get pregnant first, he’d work hard to see that it happened.
“I am waiting,” Robert said. He closed his eyes, so she’d have a free moment to adjust whatever she needed to adjust. “And there is more to wash than just my back. I want you to start on the front now.”
She started scrubbing his shoulders and then his chest. She had to lean over as she worked lower. He couldn’t see her face. “Shao-mei,” he said.
She looked up. Her face was less than an inch from his. He leaned forward and placed his lips on hers. The moment their lips touched, she dropped the soap again. She tried to jerk away. Robert put a wet hand behind her neck and held her in place. At first, her lips were stiff. Then they relaxed. She almost lost her balance and fell into the tub. He helped steady her.
“Is something wrong, Shao-mei?” Robert asked.
“I stopped breathing,” she said, “and everything became fuzzy.”
Robert tried not to laugh. There was a noise at the door. Shao-mei turned. Ayaou’s shadow was visible on the floor. Robert saw Shao-mei’s lips forming soundless words. “Get out of here. I’ll manage.” Ayaou’s shadow vanished.
Shao-mei put both hands in the water searching for the soap. His heart beat faster. When her fingers touched him, he held his breath. He was so aroused that his member was sticking out of the water pointed toward the ceiling like a chimney. He considered taking her hand and guide her to it. He managed to resist the urge. He had already planned the night and intended to stick with it. It was a strange feeling to pretend that nothing unusual was happening.
Shao-mei carefully continued to soap and rinse him. When she reached his member, Robert wanted to know what was on her mind. She looked solemn as if wiping the dust around a candlestick on an altar. She couldn’t hide her curiosity.
“Story.” He reminded her.
She jerked. “Oh, yes. Well, Mr. Yip loved dragons.” She cleared her throat. “Although he never saw any dragons, he prayed for the Emperor of Heaven to send one to visit his house. And one day a dragon was sent. Mr. Yip was on his way home, and he saw a giant tail as thick as the chimney come out of his window.” She stopped. Her face flushed. Her hands went still.
“Was Mr. Yip happy? Was that what he wanted?”
“No.” Shao-mei blinked as if to wake herself. “He was terrified.”
“Is that why the story was used to describe people who didn’t know what they were talking about?”
“That, Master,” Shao-mei took hold of the towel, “is right.”
“Were you Mrs. Yip?” He stood so she could dry him. Now his member was visible in all its aroused glory. She stared at it. He saw her gulp for air then her eyes darted away like a rabbit running for cover.
Embarrassed but happy, she said, “Then you are the dragon.”
They laughed.
“You do have a tail, Master. It is as thick as the chimney wrapping around the house and me and my sister.”
Robert heard Ayaou’s laughter from the other room.
A knocking at the door signaled the arrival of Master Ping. Ayaou let him into the sitting room. Shao-mei and Robert remained in the kitchen. She helped Robert dry off and dress in his new silk Chinese robe.
As Robert entered the room, the teacher’s shrewd eyes took in the change of clothing. What he saw caused his busy eyebrows to dance. The lesson was conducted as usual, and Master Ping was pleased. He was obviously struck by the desire to ask Robert questions but didn’t.
Robert showed him to the door at the end of the session. “Master Ping, thank you for The Dream of the Red Chamber. As you can see, I’ve applied your teaching and am a changed man.”
Master Ping moved his lips as if to make a remark. Then he changed his mind when he saw both Ayaou and Shao-mei come out to say goodbye. They bowed endlessly to him. He left looking puzzled. Twice as he went down the street, he glanced back. Robert smiled and waved.
They returned to the sitting room where Robert became the teacher. Shao-mei appeared brighter and more animated than she had been for months.
Later that night, after Ayaou slipped under the blanket, Robert said. “Ayaou, I’m going to spend the night with Shao-mei. Tomorrow I’ll be with you.” He quickly kissed her and left the bed. He felt her staring at him.
“What?” he said. He felt as if he were defending himself against a possible accusation. He avoided her eyes.
“You forgot your robe,” she said.
“I won’t need it tonight.” He was bent in one direction and wasn’t about to stop. He didn’t trust his British upbringing. It might return and spoil everything.
“But you will be cold, and there is no heat in the house.”
Without speaking, he took the robe from its hook and slipped it over his shoulders. He walked from the room in his bare feet and crossed to Shao-mei’s door where he stopped with one hand on the handle.
The devil is devious, he thought. He can trick people into giving up their souls. Then Robert grew angry. He cursed Ireland and the church. Spending the night with Shao-mei was something he wanted. Didn’t he have free will? He had decided, but he couldn’t bring himself to open that door. His heart was pounding as if it were going to burst. He was having trouble breathing.
He attempted tricking himself to relax and accept the gift that waited on the other side. To overcome his resistance, Robert fantasized what it was going to be like. While the cold claimed his feet and started spreading up his legs, he closed his
eyes and imagined what was going to take place after he stepped through that door.
Her lantern gave off a feeble light. She had the blanket drawn to her chin. She stared at him with big, wide-open eyes. She reminded him of a disturbed sparrow during its quiet time.
Shivering and with goose bumps racing across his back and down his legs, Robert slipped under the blankets onto the narrow bed. He pulls her warm, naked body into his arms.
She received him silently. He felt her stiffen when his cold skin touched her.
Robert flashed back to his first time with Ayaou in Ward’s cellar. This was going to be different. There’d be no furtiveness or fear at work here.
“It’s your job to warm me,” he said. He struggled to contain his lusty excitement. He knew the longer he spent before culmination, the better it would be.
She made no response. She reached across him to turn off the lantern.
“No.” He stopped her. Pulling her hand under the covers, he said, “I want to see you. I want you to touch me.”
“But—I might be afraid,” she replied in a seductive voice that aroused him more.
His fantasy was working. Robert’s member was growing.
“Of what?” he asked.
“You. What you have on your body. The hair. Ayaou said it is like a grassland.”
“What else did Ayaou tell you?”
“She said it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Do you believe her?”
She nodded.
“You’re a brave girl,” he said.
“You’re laughing at me. You already think I’m not as good as Ayaou.”
“Forget Ayaou. There are only two in this room.”
“Does that mean you really want to be with me?”
He pulled her closer. Their bodies touched.
Robert was aroused. Soon he’d have the strength to go through that door and claim his prize.
She wiggled her naked, smooth body as close as she could. The sensation of touching her sent sweet chills to his core.
Robert reached with one hand under the robe and took hold of his member. It throbbed. His fingers curled around it. He stroked it. His breathing quickened. The blood rushed out of his head. He leaned against the door. His legs trembled as the strength drained out of them. His mind dissolved into a puddle of warm honey.
My Splendid Concubine Page 22
