The Opium Lord's Daughter

by Robert Wang

  Lee Shao Lin and the other smugglers would have to find another translator, he decided, because he couldn’t bear the weight of yet another man’s sin, no matter how much silver that man donated. And so he had written to Lord Lee and asked to meet him in Macau so he could tell him of his decision in person.

  As Shao Lin boarded his luxurious junk for the trip to Macau to meet with Father Afonso and collect his wayward daughter, he noticed the signs of an oncoming typhoon. It was very strange to see a storm so early in the year, but the weather had been unusual recently: mild temperatures during the day but very cold at night. He considered delaying his trip, but the journey would take less than a day, and the high winds might actually shorten it. He decided the risks were low and the typhoon would probably break apart before making landfall. He refused to acknowledge that he missed his daughter and wanted to bring her home. Poor Su-Mei must be so miserable in Macau, and ten days living in penury at that ladies’ boarding school is enough punishment.

  Father Afonso met Shao Lin’s boat at the docks and wasted no time in telling him of his decision. “Honorable Lord Lee,” he said, “I must tell you personally that I am retiring from my role as your translator as of today.”

  “What?” snapped Shao Lin. “You can’t be serious!” Annoyed by Father Afonso’s gambit to obtain a higher price for his services, he replied, “I will increase my donation to your house of worship, but it is impossible that you leave your role as my translator.”

  “I regret any inconvenience, Lord Lee, but this is my decision. I spent many hours in prayer and meditation, and this is the only way I can maintain a state of grace.” He paused. “And you, Lord Lee, should reconsider your duty to your people and stop trading in opium. You know it’s destroying your own people.”

  “Father Afonso,” said Shao Lin, realizing that the priest was serious, “you are naïve to believe that I can stop the opium trade—I have been doing my best to limit the trade to avoid an even bigger disaster.” He almost believed his own words as he uttered them; they sounded sincere if he didn’t think about the enormous quantity of opium that flowed through his hands into Canton every year. “But please do not stop acting as my translator! I need you to communicate with the foreign devils—I mean, the British. At least give me some time to find a replacement.”

  “I am sorry, Lord Lee, but it is simply not possible. I am sure you will find another translator if you must continue in this business. I will pray that you see the error of your ways.”

  Shao Lin knew it was hopeless to try to change Father Afonso’s mind. “Yes, I will find another translator in time, although this is a most unexpected nuisance for me. You must excuse me, Father Afonso; I need to bring my daughter home from the convent now.” He gave a polite bow and walked away, deeply irritated by Father Afonso’s defection. The wind buffeted his body and tugged at his clothes as he went.

  As the sky grew darker, Lee Shao Lin accepted the fact that he might have to spend a day or two in Macau until the typhoon passed. His manservant had located enough sedan chairs for the entourage, and he climbed into the first one for the trip to the convent. He would meet Su-Mei there and bring her back to Canton when the weather cleared.

  Mother Amanda greeted him outside the convent. “Lord Lee,” she said in her heavily accented Chinese, “your thousand-gold daughter is anxious to see you, and she is eager to return home.” She smiled. “Lady Su-Mei has learned a lot here—she is a very astute pupil, and I believe she is ready to do wonderful things upon returning to Canton, but it looks like you will not be able to return until after this storm passes.”

  “Yes, that is so,” Shao Lin replied, impatient with this ridiculous foreign woman who was keeping him outdoors in this weather. “Now, where is my daughter?”

  “Honorable Father!” Su-Mei appeared at the heavy double doors of the convent. She bowed low. “I have missed you and Honorable Mother so much!”

  “Well,” her father replied. “I hope you have learned your lesson and will be more obedient from now on.” He suspected that nothing would change, but he had to maintain his status as head of his household, especially in front of the foreign woman.

  “Yes, Honorable Father, I will do my best from now on to make you and Honorable Mother proud and not ashamed of me.” Su-Mei kept her eyes cast down and did her best impression of a chastised, dutiful daughter.

  Maybe this punishment really worked, Shao Lin thought, surprised. If only it weren’t too late to have her feet bound.

  “Honorable Father, may I speak with you in private before we leave here? I have an idea that I think you will like,” Su-Mei said.

  Shao Lin made an impatient face. What can this child possibly say to me? he wondered. Maybe she has reconsidered marrying old Wong’s son!

  “Speak quickly,” he said. “I do not want to stand out here in the wind any longer than I have to.”

  “Then let us step across to the sacristy of the church,” said Mother Amanda. “It will be out of this terrible wind. I’m sure you remember, Lord Lee, that men are forbidden inside these doors.”

  Shao Lin groaned and gestured for the sedan chair men to follow him to the front of the church and wait. Mother Amanda, Su-Mei, and a servant girl walked behind, heads down and clothes blowing in the wind.

  “Honorable Father,” Su-Mei began as soon as they were all inside the church, “I know our family business depends on working with the British—the foreign devils—and you must meet them here in Macau every time there is a decision to be made so that your translator can assist you.”

  “What do you know about my business, daughter?” Shao Lin snapped. “You are a woman with no experience or brains.”

  Su-Mei fought to hide her flare of anger. “Of course you are right, Honorable Father! Forgive me; I am only a woman and know nothing about the world of men and even less about business, but I met a person here who speaks English and Chinese very well, and I thought this person could be helpful to you.”

  Interesting, Shao Lin thought, and timely, now that Father Afonso has quit. I wonder if he can be trusted. Surely this man is also a priest—what other man could she meet here? “I will make an exception this one time and listen to an ignorant young woman, just to show that I have forgiven you for your disobedience. Now when can I meet this translator?” He hoped the relief wasn’t showing on his face.

  With a big smile, Su-Mei stepped aside and put her hands on the shoulders of the servant girl. “Right here, Honorable Father. This is Pai Chu.” Mother Amanda stood behind the two young women, and Sister Maria, in her servant’s clothes, made a respectful bow.

  “Where is this translator?” Shao Lin asked again. “Stop playing games.” His glance passed over the serving woman standing next to his daughter. Her hair was slightly wavy, she was too tall, and her features were a bit odd, but she was no uglier than half the servants in his household.

  “Honorable Father, this is my friend Pai Chu,” said Su-Mei, fighting a grin. “She is the translator that I am speaking of.”

  “Have the foreign devils taken your brains away, stupid daughter?” he roared. “Do you expect me to bring a woman into business meetings to do a man’s job?”

  “Honorable Fath—”

  “No! The idea is ridiculous. I would never survive the shame of it, even assuming this—” he waved a hand at Pai Chu, “female can speak English as you say.”

  “But, Honorable Father, please listen—”

  Shao Lin’s voice turned cold and quiet. “Have you become deaf as well as stupid? A woman cannot attend business meetings—it is impossible, preposterous. Now have the servants collect your belongings and follow me to the inn. In case you hadn’t noticed, a typhoon is approaching, and we may have to stay in Macau for a few days. I have arranged rooms for us at the Dragon Inn. It’s the most luxurious place to stay in Macau—a welcome change for you after your stay here.”

  Su-Mei felt a chill down her spine. Lee Shao Lin was adamant. Pai Chu was near tears, afraid she might ne
ver see Su-Mei again.

  No! He can’t do this to me! Su-Mei instantly hatched a new plan. It came to her out of thin air, and she suspected it was the work of God, as they were standing in his house of worship. “Honorable Father, please forgive my ignorance about the world of men. I will not mention it again and leave these affairs to you.”

  “Then let’s go!”

  “Yes, of course, but may I make a humble daughter’s request of you, Honorable Father?”

  Shao Lin sighed impatiently. “What is it now?”

  “Pai Chu has become a good friend to me. She has taught me to honor you and Honorable Mother during this time of punishment, and she has acted as my mentor in understanding Master Sage Kong Fu-tzu’s teachings. I would like to invite her to stay with me before I leave Macau as a gift of thanks. I would like her to experience a few days with us at the beautiful inn you are taking me to. She will probably never see such luxury again.”

  Shao Lin was tired of this conversation in the foreign devils’ temple and preoccupied with replacing his reliable translator, but his temper was abated by the notion that he could bestow upon a common girl such luxuries as only a wealthy and powerful guan like himself could afford.

  “If Mother Amanda will allow it, this young woman may be our guest until we depart for Canton after the typhoon passes.”

  Mother Amanda and Pai Chu were still looking a bit stunned by Su-Mei’s new plan. “It would be a great honor to be your guest, Lord Lee,” Pai Chu heard herself say. “If Mother Amanda will permit it.”

  Mother Amanda would never have allowed an orphan or a novice to leave the convent and visit a decadent inn, but she assumed that Su-Mei had a plan. “I will make an exception to my usual rules today because Lord Lee has bestowed such an honor upon our convent by bringing his thousand-gold daughter to us.”

  Now all we need is an opportunity for Pai Chu to translate between Honorable Father and an English-speaking person to demonstrate her skills, thought Su-Mei. “Dear God, my Lord God,” she prayed in her sedan chair on the way to the Dragon Inn, “please show me a way to fulfill your will! Help my father see that Pai Chu must stay with our family!”

  Chapter Eight

  The flags used all over Macau to signify the strength of Typhoon Catherine, as the Westerners were calling it, had been raised to their highest level by the time the Lee family entourage arrived at the Dragon Inn, the most expensive and luxurious hotel for Chinese travelers in Macau. The sedan chair carriers had a difficult time keeping the chairs upright as strong winds pushed at them from the side. Shao Lin and the two young women were exhausted and feeling fortunate that they had made it there without mishap.

  The Dragon Inn was built inland for safety during storms such as this, unlike the Western hotels in Macau that were built near the shore so travelers could enjoy the waterfront views. Lee Shao Lin had ordered a large private dining room so he and his entourage could celebrate Su-Mei’s release from the convent, but just as the group was settling down to their feast, they heard a commotion outside and many foreign voices. The typhoon had blown off most of the windows of the Royal Lisbon Hotel, and its Western guests were being relocated to the Dragon Inn, the only establishment so far unaffected by the wind and rain.

  “This place is where all the yellow monkeys stay?” a strident voice said in English. “What a rat hole! The chairs have got no bloody backs on them—and no cloths on the tables? I’ve seen pubs at the docks that were more respectable.”

  “Hey, Andrew, are you bloody drunk already?” another voice asked, followed by a chorus of laughter. “The Chinamen don’t bother with linens on their tables, and they don’t use proper chairs, either.” The voice paused. “This is a damned fine place to bunk in this part of the world, and it’s here or back on board the bloody ship for us, mate.”

  Andrew Johnstone, nephew of William Jardine, had just arrived in Macau on an opium run from India. Following in his uncle’s footsteps, he had shipped on the Scaleby Castle as surgeon’s mate and taken advantage of his privilege tonnage until he earned enough money to resign his commission and trade full-time for his uncle. He preferred to stay at James Matheson’s luxurious home when he was in Macau, but this afternoon Johnstone had decided to go drinking with some of the crew instead. When the weather was fair, they all remained on board the ship at anchor, but in the event of a typhoon, the officers who were off duty preferred to bed down at a hotel.

  “This bloody—what do they call it—daifon?—has buggered our plans for the night, eh, gentlemen?”

  “It’s a typhoon, mate. How many times have you been to China now? And ye haven’t learned the bleedin’ lingo yet?”

  The first voice swore. “Typhoon! Bugger all. Where’s the whiskey? Don’t tell me the yellow monkeys only drink that rice swill!”

  New voices spoke up among the clinking of glasses. “So who’s this bastard that Mr. Jardine wants you to meet with, Johnstone?”

  “Some high lord nob, trades in the finest quality dope, from what I hear.”

  “He’ll want the same color of silver as all the other yellow buggers, I’ll warrant,” replied the first man.

  “He’s a bloody big shot mandarin by the name of Lee,” said Johnstone. “Runs the game in Canton, connected to all the dealers.”

  Someone snorted. “Right, so where is this Lee bastard, anyway? Too bloody good to meet with the likes of us, is he?”

  “He’s in Canton. The yellow bastard is making so much bloody coin on our opium he practically owns the city. Lives on a bloody estate—he collected so much silver he was able to buy himself a title.” Roars of laughter followed this statement amid shouts of “Sir Opium-Monger” and “Lee, Lord Monkeyshire.”

  Pai Chu heard every word of this conversation from their private dining room and translated it all quietly for Su-Mei, who looked up to the ceiling, closed her eyes, and thanked God for another sign of his presence. How can I use this situation to our advantage? Su-Mei asked herself.

  She was about to ask Pai Chu if she had any ideas when a drunken sailor from the Scaleby Castle crashed through the screen that separated this private dining room from the main hall. Lee Shao Lin jerked his stool back, startled, and two of his men rushed in front of him to protect him. A third bodyguard picked up the drunken foreigner and tossed him back into the main dining hall, where he hit his head on the corner of a table.

  The sailor leaped up, blood dripping from his head wound. “Bloody hell!” he shouted. “What was that?” Before anyone could respond, three other sailors, deep in their cups, came to his aid. They attacked Lee Shao Lin’s men, and a brawl broke out. Travers Higgins, currently billeted on the Scaleby Castle, was among them. Not thinking clearly, he joined in. Nothing like a healthy pub brawl to let off steam, he thought as he smashed a bottle over a Chinaman’s back. We’ve all been cooped up together for too long.

  Lee Shao Lin’s men, not being familiar with the habits of drunken foreign devil sailors, assumed this was an assassination attempt on a Chinese lord, which was a serious offense with dire consequences. They drew their knives and prepared to protect their master and his daughter.

  The sailors stared at one another, alcohol evaporating under cold, real fear. The dining hall fell silent.

  “Stand down, gentlemen!” shouted Higgins, staring at the Chinese men with the big, wicked-looking knives. “No reason to bring weapons to bear. This is just a friendly scrap. Sailors blowing off steam. We meant no harm by it.”

  The bodyguards understood not a word of English and assumed Higgins was hurling insults at them and their boss. He was pointing his finger at them, a clear challenge in their culture. They noticed that most of the foreign devils wore knives of their own at their waists, and the shouting man had his hand dangerously near his belt. Fear, confusion, distrust of the foreign devils, and their warrior training all blocked any trace of caution, and they charged the sailors, weapons out.

  The sailors, Higgins included, were shocked into sobriety and reached for their b
lades, ready to fight for their lives. The senior officers were shouting at everyone, and Johnstone, from a place of safety behind a sideboard, began to suspect that something quite serious was happening.

  Su-Mei was seated near the toppled screen and suddenly realized that she was directly between the lines of men. She started to inch away just as both sides bounded forward. Pai Chu, in the clarity of an adrenaline rush, saw that a foreign devil’s knife was going to pierce Su-Mei’s side if he kept running. Without thinking, she leaped up, flung herself at the man and screamed at Su-Mei to get out of the way.

  Higgins staggered back to avoid the Chinese woman who had just hurled herself at him, but he lost his balance, and as he swung his arm upward to shift his weight, the knife, kept razor-sharp to slice ropes in an emergency, buried itself point first in the woman’s stomach, just below her breastbone. She fell to the ground, blood gushing onto the polished wood floor and an eerie, whining howl coming from her wide-open mouth. Su-Mei, still on the ground where she had fallen when Pai Chu pushed past her, began to scream.

  “Oh, bloody fuck! What the hell have you done?” bawled Johnstone from the other side of the room.

  Higgins turned pale. He dropped the knife and was about to kneel to help the woman when one of the bodyguards, shouting in Chinese, bolted toward him with his blade raised.

  “STOP!” Shao Lin’s powerful voice echoed through the room, silencing everyone. He spoke in Chinese, but even the foreign men froze. This strange ugly woman from the convent had just saved his daughter’s life, and now she was screaming in pain and bleeding like a slaughtered pig on the floor. One of the foreign devils rushed across the room and knelt at her side. He pressed both palms over the wound to try to slow the bleeding, but Shao Lin’s men knocked him down and put him in a chokehold.

  Higgins and two other sailors made a move to help the surgeon, and the rest of the bodyguards stepped forward, weapons out.