by Robert Wang
“Follow that path until you reach the water,” said the dumpling vendor, already turning to the next customer. He waved an arm behind him. “You’ll see the army barracks and the cannons.”
“Thank you!” Su-Mei bowed politely and gestured to Higgins to walk ahead of her.
“Walk fast,” she called to him. She was practically running, her body filled with adrenaline at the thought of seeing Da Ping soon.
The barracks at Fu-Moon were bleak and bare. Made of stone blocks, the buildings were arranged so that all the doors opened onto three sides of a central quadrangle. The fourth side was open to the defensive platforms where large, antiquated cannons were mounted to face the Pearl River. The common soldiers slept six to a room with one small window and a narrow door. Senior officers had more privacy, and General Kwan had a separate residence and an office at the center of the barracks. The general was highly decorated and well loved, and he hated what opium was doing to his homeland. He was one of the few people Special Emissary Lin trusted completely.
Higgins and Su-Mei could glimpse soldiers in uniform milling around the quadrangle. They seemed to be on a break—some were washing their clothes, and others were sitting around chatting. Several soldiers stood guard at the cannon platform, orderly and disciplined. Higgins, being somewhat familiar with military discipline, could tell that Fu-Moon Fort was well run and its men were dedicated and prepared. We can beat their ships and guns handily, he thought, but these soldiers will be a different story, and they’re fighting for their homeland.
Su-Mei tried to search, but all the soldiers looked alike at that distance.
“We need to get closer so we can see their faces,” remarked Higgins.
They watched for hours but saw no sign of Da Ping.
“Go back? Find way in?” suggested Su-Mei.
“Sure,” Higgins said. “We can’t see anything from here, anyway.”
Back on the main street, Su-Mei spotted a street vendor who sharpened knives. He had a large basket of knives and swords, and there were spears lying near him on the ground. He will know about the garrison, thought Su-Mei. She gestured to Higgins to wait out of sight.
“Excuse me, Master Knife Sharpener,” she said, approaching him. “Are these weapons for the soldiers stationed here?”
“Yes, miss, and I have to get them all done by tomorrow—they seem to be in quite a hurry. So you must excuse me, I’m very busy.”
“My name is San San, and my brother is stationed inside the fort. I just traveled a long way to see him, but I don’t know how to get in.”
“General Kwan is very strict with his soldiers,” replied the knife sharpener impatiently. “No one goes into the fort without permission. You’ll have to wait until your brother is granted leave time. And now I must get back to work!”
“Please, sir, we have a family emergency. Our father is very ill, and I must tell my brother and give him a letter from Honorable Father.”
The knife sharpener shook his head, his queue swaying. “General Kwan does not make exceptions. Now I really must get back to work. As you can see, I have a lot of blades to sharpen here.”
Panicking, Su-Mei blurted out the first thought that came into her head. “Master, I can help! I will help you sharpen the blades, and tomorrow I will help you carry them into the fort. I’ll do it without pay. This way, I will be your assistant, and if I see my brother inside, I can talk to him very briefly. What have you got to lose?”
“You’ll do it without pay?”
“Yes! Consider it a trade. I would be so grateful, and so would my brother and my Honorable Father.”
“What do you know about knife sharpening, miss?” the man asked.
“Nothing, master, but I learn very fast, and I will work very hard.”
The knife sharpener looked at the young woman in front of him. She was exceptionally pretty, even with dirt on her face and in wrinkled, drab clothes. He was about to turn her away when he saw the desperation in her eyes. “Very well, let’s get started with the smaller knives. Tell me your name again.”
“San San, master.”
“San San, I am Wen Jing. Watch carefully.” He showed her how to use the sharpening stone and hold the knife. It looked easy to Su-Mei, so she picked up a knife and tried to copy the sharpener’s movements. As soon as she began to move the knife up and down, she sliced her finger, and it started to bleed.
“No, no, you’re doing it too fast. You must go slow and use even strokes as you move the blade against the stone.” He reached for her hand to examine the wound but dropped it in surprise. “Why are your hands so soft and pale? You look like you’ve never done a day’s work in your life!” He squinted at her face again. “Are you a wealthy lady? Run away from your husband or something?”
“Oh, no!” Su-Mei faked a laugh. “How I wish! Actually, Master Wen, I was very sick as a child. I couldn’t play outside or do any work—that’s why my skin is so pale and my hands have no calluses. Look at my feet—do they look like a lady’s feet?”
Wen Jing looked down at Su-Mei’s feet in her servant’s slippers and nodded. “No, you’re right about that.” He chuckled. “Are you well now, San San?”
“Yes, I’m much healthier now, and I can do this! You’ll see.” Su-Mei squatted and took up the knife and the whetstone. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Higgins was still there.
“Hey, Master Wen, if you know of a rich boy, maybe you can introduce me as some wealthy lady who forgot to bind her feet!”
The knife sharpener laughed out loud. This San San was pleasant company and a quick learner, although by the time the work was done, she had cut herself several times.
“You learn fast, young lady,” Wen Jing said. “Most apprentices have even more cuts than you after the first day!” He laughed. “And now your hands will start to look like an honest worker’s hands.”
Su-Mei bowed gratefully. “When should I arrive to deliver these to the fort?” she asked.
“Be here at sunrise. General Kwan is an early riser, which means his troops are too. It’ll be easy for you to find your brother during morning inspection.”
“Thank you, Master Wen!”
He nodded. “See you tomorrow, San San.”
She hurried down the street to where Higgins had been waiting patiently. He tore his handkerchief into strips to bind her fingers. “Oh darling, do they hurt? That was a clever plan you had to find a way into the fort.” Su-Mei was always surprising him with her daring and quick wit.
She smiled. “No hurt. He vally nice and I go to fort tomollo.” She looked down at Higgins’s sleeve, where he had hidden his knife, and added, “I shap your knife now—I good shapper.” They both laughed out loud.
After a simple meal of rice and grilled fish from a street stall, they returned to the temple, which was once again deserted, for the night. Higgins wondered briefly why there were no monks looking after the place, but then again, there was nothing in the temple to steal, and Fu-Moon was a sleepy little town.
The swords and knives were heavy, and Su-Mei struggled to lift the unwieldy basket down from Wen Jing’s handcart. He rushed to help her with it, looking concerned. Su-Mei was relieved she’d thought of such a convincing story to explain away her pale skin, soft hands, and weak muscles.
A pair of soldiers opened the main gate for them, and Wen Jing and Su-Mei carried the baskets of weapons in. Su-Mei scanned the soldiers as they entered the mess hall to collect their breakfast of rice and dried pork. Tables and chairs were set up in the quadrangle for the men who were coming off duty and those who had just risen. General Kwan always ate breakfast with his troops and greeted them cordially as they passed his table.
There was no sign of Da Ping. Master Wen Jing was gesturing for her to pack up the empty baskets and get ready to leave when she saw someone who looked like him march in from the cannon platform. Can’t be him! That boy is too skinny, Su-Mei decided. Da Ping loved his meals, and he had always been a chubby boy. B
ut the way he walked and the birthmark on his face, just visible below his helmet, was unmistakable. As he grew closer, she noted another mark, a jagged red line across his cheekbone.
“Little Brother, is that you? It is you!”
“Big Sister? How can you be here?”
Su-Mei lunged at Da Ping and wrapped her arms around him. They both wept loudly, attracting the attention of the other soldiers around them.
“What is this disturbance?” General Kwan shouted. “Who is this woman, and what is she doing here?”
Soldiers grabbed Su-Mei’s arms and pulled her away from Da Ping. “To the general, now! Explain yourselves!” shouted one of them. Su-Mei let herself be shoved along until she was standing before a lean, gray-haired man in an important-looking uniform. The hands on her arms pushed downward, and she sank to her knees. Da Ping did the same.
“Lord General,” said Su-Mei meekly. “May I have permission to speak?” The general nodded. “My name is San San. I have traveled all the way from Canton to see my brother Da—Ming Ming. I came to tell him that our Honorable Father is very ill and may not survive. I helped Master Wen Jing sharpen your weapons so I could get inside here to look for him. I didn’t know what else to do! Please forgive me, Lord General!” She looked carefully at the ground in front of her knees.
“Why didn’t you go through the proper channels to request a visit with your brother? This is a secure military area—people can’t just walk in whenever they like!”
“Lord General, I was desperate,” said Su-Mei, still looking down. “I was afraid it would take too long if I followed the procedures.”
“I do not tolerate any lapse in discipline from my soldiers,” said the general, “but this is your doing, young lady, and not Foot Soldier Ming’s, so I will overlook it this time. Now, you say your Honorable Father is ill and has a message for your brother?”
“Yes, Lord General.” Su-Mei nodded.
“Then I will make an exception and allow you to spend one hour with your brother. His shift has just ended, so you may go to the cannon platform area where you may have some privacy. You will be escorted out of the fort at the end of the hour. Is this understood?”
“Yes, Lord General. Thank you for your kindness, and please accept our prostrated thanks!”
Su-Mei elbowed Da Ping, who seemed half asleep during the entire conversation, and both siblings prostrated themselves before General Kwan three times to show their respect and gratitude.
As soon as they were alone, Su-Mei filled Da Ping in on everything that had happened since their father returned to Macau to retrieve her. It was too much information for him to digest.
“How could they do this to us?” Da Ping’s boyish tears contrasted sharply with his soldier’s uniform. “What are we going to do? And how did you find me here, Big Sister? We’re lucky the vice general’s not here—he thinks I’m an orphan and you told the general our father is ill.”
“Your friend Chu Sing told us about Little Spring, and she told us how she saved your life. I am so grateful to her, and you should be too.”
“Yes,” said Da Ping. “Little Spring was kind to me, and I was very lucky to have gone to see her that day. But how do you know Chu Sing?”
“He was at our father’s store looking for money or opium. I thought he was a thief, but he said he knew you.”
“Good old Chu Sing! And where is he now?”
Su-Mei looked away. “He died of an overdose soon after we found him.”
“Oh! I didn’t know he was addicted.” Da Ping thought it wise to pretend to know nothing about anyone who smoked opium. He himself was miserable at the fort because he could only get the worst grades of the drug, and sometimes not even that. Little Spring had given him some silver before he left Canton, and he’d spent almost all of it on opium. On the salary of a first-year recruit, all he could afford were leftovers scraped from other people’s pipes and low-grade stuff that had been cut with tobacco, and he was only able to buy that when he was on leave. He was barely able to function and had no appetite.
“What happened to you, Little Brother? You’ve lost so much weight—you look terrible!” Su-Mei said to change the subject. “And what happened to your face?”
“You wouldn’t look so good if you had to go through what I’ve been through,” Da Ping replied crossly. He fingered the angry scar on his cheek. “I got this when a cannon exploded—a scrap of metal flew into my face. It almost hit my eye!” He shuddered to impress Su-Mei with the seriousness of his injury. In truth, when the other soldiers heard the warning crack of the defective cannon, they’d all dropped to the platform and covered their faces with their arms. But Da Ping had been concentrating on the mental list, shorter every day, of comrades who were still willing to lend him a little money or share their opium with him. He hadn’t even heard the explosion.
“I’ve been through a lot too, Brother, believe me. But let’s forget about that for now. You need to sneak out of here tonight so we can get on a ship and go to England. They’ll kill us if we stay.”
“England?” Da Ping’s eyebrows shot up. “You want to go and live with the foreign devils? Are you crazy? Why?”
“Because these foreign devils saved my life and they are nice people. I’ve learned a lot about them, and they’re not what we were taught. An Englishman helped me get to Canton from Macau to find Father and then here to find you. He is a good man, and we are going to be married.”
Da Ping stared at her, incredulous. “You want to marry a foreign devil? And leave our home? I think you must be crazy. Our ancestors will curse you! Our parents will haunt you if you do that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is that even allowed, to marry a foreign devil?”
“Little Brother, in case you’ve forgotten, there are people who want to kill us both. So, yes, I’m leaving our home. And Mr. Heegan, my husband-to-be, is a good man. I can depend on him, which is more than I can say for anyone else right now. You have to come with me so we can start a new life in England.”
“No way,” said Da Ping flatly. “I’m not leaving my homeland to go far away and live with barbarians!” He drew himself up straight and stuck out his chest. “And you aren’t either.”
Su-Mei decided to ignore his last comment. You’re not Father, she thought. Father is dead. “What will you do then, Brother? Stay here and be a poor soldier for the rest of your life?”
“Yes, yes, I will. I would rather be a soldier in my homeland than a nobody in some foreign land. I like it here, and General Kwan is a great leader. I’m finally doing something meaningful for the first time in my life, Big Sister. My old life is gone—I’m not that spoiled rich boy anymore.”
“But you are the only family I have! I can’t leave you here by yourself,” Su-Mei cried.
“Then stay here in Fu-Moon,” he said. “I get one day off every half month; you can visit then. I’ve missed you so much ever since Honorable Father separated us, and I thought I would never see you again. Now I have no one except you, so you mustn’t go away and leave me here all by myself!” His tone abruptly changed from arrogance to pleading.
“Little Brother, we are both fugitives. Our own people want to kill us for our father’s crimes, so please, tell me how staying here is going to help our situation! I really think you should come to England with me. It will be difficult at first, but we can adapt. And we won’t be alone—we’ll have Mr. Heegan.”
Da Ping sighed heavily. There was no way he could leave Fu-Moon. Not because of patriotism or fear of life in a new and strange land, but because he was addicted to opium, and he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to find any among the foreign devils. It was true that they brought it here, but not from England. The customs officers his father bribed had told him it came from another land called India. “Big Sister,” he said gently, “I have always listened to you, and you have been right so many times, but I have to stay here. I can’t explain it, but being a soldier is important to me. Maybe not forever, but right now, I can�
�t go.”
“Little Brother, I’m proud of you! You’ve grown up! It takes courage and discipline to be a soldier. And General Kwan is a good man. But you really must think about your future. There is so much tension between England and China now, and I’m afraid it will get worse. Fu-Moon will be a very dangerous place if that happens. Are you ready to go to war?”
Da Ping glanced toward the barracks. “Our time is up, Big Sister. Look, men are waving at you to leave now.” He walked her to the gates and said goodbye. Wen Jing had left some time ago, but Higgins was waiting there to introduce himself to Da Ping.
Higgins bowed to the thin young man in an ill-fitting soldier’s uniform. With the exception of a round birthmark at his temple, a crimson scar across his cheekbone, and a few hairs above his upper lip, he was the spitting image of Su-Mei. “Hello, Da Ping, my name is Travers Higgins. I am pleased to meet you,” he called through the gate, pronouncing the Chinese words carefully.
Da Ping’s face was blank. He hadn’t understood a word of what the foreign devil said, and he nearly laughed out loud at the sight of him dressed as a Chinese man, queue and all.
“Little Brother, this man is my future husband and your future brother-in-law. He is a good man, and I wouldn’t be here without him.”
Da Ping nodded, waved and smiled at Higgins, then walked back toward the barracks to get some sleep. It had been a long night shift and an eventful morning, and he had only the tiniest scraps of opium resin left to get him through the day.
Su-Mei hadn’t eaten breakfast, and she was starving. She and Higgins sat down at a food stall with huge bowls of fragrant, steaming noodles. She made him sit with his back to the crowd so no one could see his face or notice how he struggled with his chopsticks.
“My dearest,” Higgins said quietly, “we cannot stay here. Sooner or later, someone will see that I am not Chinese or recognize you. And I need to report back to Captain Robertson. My ship is due to sail home soon, and I’d like you and your brother to be on it so we can start our new life together in England.”