Burning Tigress

by Jade Lee

  She nodded. What else could she do? Especially as William was so obviously warm and happy and very, very much alive in her lap.

  * * *

  Ken Jin despised English tea. It was a sterile brew with water strained through leaves and kept separate, as if knowing the source of one's food was terrible. In truth, it was very English in that every aspect was held apart from the others with no thought to the whole. Did they not realize that qi infused the leaves and therefore the water, but only when kept inside the teacup? Did they not know that a hint of flower or citrus, of ginger root or ginseng, brought body to the tea leaves and wholeness to the taste?

  Of course not. They were barbarians, and they knew nothing of such things. But Ken Jin did, and yet he chose day after day, at all hours, to drink English tea. Why? Had he indeed become what his mother accused? Was he more barbarian than Han, more English than Chinese? Or was his fate more subtle than that? Was he doomed to spill all his skills upon the whites?

  His family called him ill fortune; and yet whatever he touched for his white employers turned to gold. His Chinese lovers despised him, and yet white ladies sang his praises. Now, most damning of all, a white girl had taken his yang—carefully purified and stored—and with it, she had gone to Heaven. He had remained behind on the dirty shed floor.

  How he hated his life! How he despised what he had become! And yet, what could he change? Would he choose Chinese poverty over English wealth? Would he want Chinese impotence over English debauchery?

  No, a thousand times no! And yes, a thousand times yes.

  His heart ached to be Chinese, but basic survival required him to be English. Was there no place he could simply be himself, neither Chinese nor white, neither rich nor poor, neither impotent nor debauched?

  The answer was clear, as always. He longed for Heaven, where all souls were equal, where Immortals were revered. He strove for a fulfillment that could only be reached by the perfect combination of purified yin and yang. The Celestial Real was his destination, immortality his goal.

  Except, Charlotte had just taken his yang. She had used it to go to Heaven in his place, and all his dedicated study for the last decade had led to nothing. She was launched; he was bereft. And now he had to go lift and carry her brother just as he fixed her tea and made her father money. He was a prop to the whites, his only power in servicing them.

  Looking down at his still-wet pants in disgust, he resolved to burn them. He could ill afford to lose his best trousers, but he knew he'd never be able to look at them again without remembering his shame, without knowing he had accidentally poured years of refined energy into a white girl.

  Abruptly pushing through the kitchen door, he abandoned the heating water in his haste to tear off his clothing. Moments later, he rushed back, this time in dry clothing, finished preparing the tea, and then climbed the stairs to assist Miss Charlotte. If fortune decreed he was nothing but a white man's aide, he would be the best aide the world over. Some piece of that fortune would eventually spill back to him and flow to his family. If nothing else, it would buy him a wife and put his name back on the family altar.

  His knees creaked as he climbed the stairs. Indeed, a great deal of his body felt cold and stiff as he assisted with the large boy. It was the loss of yang, he knew, and he had trouble keeping his anger tucked away. But in the end, he did as he had to. The boy was settled, the tea was finished, and Miss Charlotte was seated before him at the downstairs dining table.

  He stood beside her, his feet numb from the day's labors, while he watched her sip the tea he'd made. He knew she would talk. She often spoke to her servants as one would a family pet. Indeed, the maids gossiped that with Joanna away, Charlotte confessed her thoughts and feelings to the plant in her bedroom. All Ken Jin needed to do was become as still as her fern, and eventually he would hear all.

  True enough, after a moment she blinked, glanced up at him, and spoke. "Sit down, Ken Jin, you're glaring."

  He bowed slightly, using the opportunity to smooth out his expression. "My apologies, Miss Charlotte."

  She stared at him, then frowned as he refilled her teacup. "Where's yours?"

  He returned the pot to the sideboard. "My what, Miss Charlotte?"

  "Your teacup," she snapped. Then she abruptly dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Lord, I'm tired. How do you do it, Ken Jin? You've been working all day and still you look..." She lifted a palm off her face to wave at him without actually seeing. "Like you."

  He didn't know how to answer. She wasn't sounding at all like herself. But then, he supposed, that was only to be expected. After all, she had ascended to the Immortal Realm this day.

  She abruptly lifted her head and frowned at him. "Ken Jin?"

  He bowed. "Miss?"

  "Talk with me."

  He frowned, thinking back to her previous question. "I changed my clothes. The others were soiled."

  She blinked, uncomprehending, so he explained further.

  "That is how I look... like me."

  She rolled her eyes. "Sit down. Get some tea. Talk with me."

  He hesitated, uncertain how to proceed. "You are the one who needs to talk, Miss Charlotte. You must explain what happened."

  She glared at him. "I know, but I'm not going to do it to a damned servant. Sit down. Get some tea. Lord," she moaned, "I wish Joanna was here."

  He felt awkward settling into a chair across the table from her. Indeed, he had the strongest urge to deny her request and stand against the wall like a plant. But Miss Charlotte had always known her own mind, so if she thought she could talk better to a seated person, then he would sit.

  He perched on the edge of the seat, his legs an even distance apart, his hands folded neatly before him. It was a pose he had often disdained as a boy, and now here he was—a full-grown man and a jade Dragon—perched like a child before a girl. Except, of course, Charlotte wasn't a girl. Barbarian or not, she was an ascended Immortal.

  "Tell me what happened, Miss Charlotte," he said, his voice a whisper.

  She raised her eyes to his, and he saw the sheen of tears sparkling there. "I don't know what happened, Ken Jin. I don't understand any of it. What did you see?"

  "Nothing."

  She blinked. "Nothing?"

  He looked down and saw that his fingertips were white where his hands clenched. "You were ascending. I know that. I felt it." He would never forget that outrush of power. "Then... you left."

  Her head tilted sideways, even as her whole body strained toward him. "Left?" she asked.

  "Your body was still, your eyes closed. You appeared to be sleeping, but so deeply that I knew your spirit was not within your body."

  "Like I was dead."

  He studied her. She was not looking at him anymore. Her gaze was trained on her right index finger as she traced the tiny handle of her English-style teacup.

  "You were not dead. Your spirit was visiting the Immortal realm." His voice was rough and exhaustion pulled at him. Even his skin felt heavy. So he abruptly matched her position. He leaned forward, put both hands down on the white tablecloth, and peered into her haunted blue eyes. "What did you feel?"

  "Light. As if I was filled with sunlight, and yet I was in a dark place. But it wasn't scary; it was beautiful. And there were other lights moving."

  "The Chamber of a Thousand Swinging Lanterns. It is the antechamber to Heaven. It is immortal, holy, but only the beginning."

  Her gaze leapt to his face. "There is more?"

  "There is always more. You did not go farther? To a temple? A garden?" He tried to think of all the texts he had studied, all the descriptions of the Celestial Realm that were written down through the ages.

  She shook her head. "There was nothing like that. Just the darkness and the swinging lights. One of them was William."

  He studied her face. She appeared stunned and confused, but also radiant with the trailing ribbons of glory. When she spoke of her experience, he felt her power rise. Her skin flushed, her eyes sparkle
d, and his own body tingled just from being near her. Indeed, he wanted to draw back, to settle his hands into his lap again, but he could not bear to leave her energy. Her qi was so strong that his palms actually itched. He had to keep her talking. He had to see how much power she still held, but he dared not touch her for fear that she would draw out the last of his yang.

  "I went closer to one of the swinging lights. I don't know how; I just did. And as I reached it, I knew it was William. His spirit. And he was so..." Her voice broke and she could not continue.

  He could see that she fought tears, and he could not understand why. "He was a shining light?"

  "He was normal." She bit her lip as if she fought her words, but they came out anyway. "He was smart and handsome and mature and... so perfect."

  He frowned. "Are you sure—"

  "It was William!"

  He looked back down at his hands. Her power was buffeting him, pulsing against his fingers with a heat that warmed this cold, dark room. Then it faded, and he was left with the faint echo of a tingle that carried no heat.

  "He wanted to talk to me. He had something to say." She sighed. "But I thought he was an angel. Which meant..."

  "That William was dead?"

  She nodded, her eyes searching his face. "How could his soul be in Heaven when he is still here on Earth?"

  Ken Jin shook his head. "I do not know, Miss Charlotte."

  She abruptly pushed up from the table to pace about the room. Her energy followed, spiking across his skin when she was near, fading to almost nothing when she moved away. Then she stopped just behind him, forcing him to turn to feel her radiance on his face.

  "Don't lie to me, Ken Jin."

  He blinked. "I am not lying."

  "But you're not telling the whole truth, are you? You're being a servant again."

  He blinked again. "I do not understand."

  "But you do understand!" Her voice rose in accusation. "You see and hear everything, and you know what I'm talking about. You just won't explain."

  Her radiance had grown, and so he stood to face her, to feel it against his entire body. Except, as he straightened, he realized he had a problem. His jade stalk had grown. Indeed, his dragon was thick and heavy against his trousers when he should not have had the yang to do anything. It was clearly her leftover glory affecting him. He needed to stay with her longer, perhaps reabsorb some of what he had lost.

  "Ken Jin!"

  His focus snapped back. "Miss?"

  She flounced back into a chair, this time the one beside him. From there she simply stared at him. "I think we're well beyond the 'miss' stage, don't you?"

  He frowned. Sometimes the English language could have extra meanings. Perhaps—

  "Call me Charlotte. Not Miss Charlotte, not miss, just Charlotte. Or better yet, Char."

  "Char?"

  She grabbed his hand. He hadn't even realized she'd moved, but suddenly her warmth surrounded his wrist, her power penetrating through his arm, and his dragon reared up even farther. She drew him closer, back down into his seat, and he had no choice but to comply though his heart raced to understand this strange white woman. What did she want from him?

  "I do not have your answers," he said. "You have ascended beyond my understanding."

  "Damn it, Ken Jin!" she exploded, her hand tightening around his. "Stop being a servant!"

  "But I am a servant!"

  "Not anymore!" She threw his hand away. She exploded out of her chair again, only to spin around as if searching for something to do, somewhere to go.

  "I have never been to Heaven, Miss... Char. I have never even gone to the Antechamber as you did tonight. If the Tigress Shi Po were here, I would take you straight to her. I would have her counsel you, but she is in prison, locked up with her husband so that we cannot even see her." His voice deepened as he spoke those words, and he rushed to cover the pain he felt. "I do not know what you want me to do."

  She turned back to him, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "You cannot tell me why my brother's spirit is both in Heaven and here on Earth?"

  He shook his head.

  "You have no idea at all?"

  He hesitated, and she pounced. She rushed forward and dropped back into her seat, but only the closest edge of it. The rest of her was leaning into him, grabbing his hands, and peering into his eyes. "Tell me, Ken Jin. Tell me what you think."

  He could not deny her, not with her qi pressing into every pore of his body. "Could that not be the explanation?" She frowned, so he rushed to explain. "Could that be the reason William is the way he is?"

  "Slow?"

  He nodded. "If part of his spirit is in Heaven and part..."

  "Here in his body..."

  "Such a split spirit would be incomplete in both places."

  She blinked, and he watched comprehension flow through her body. Never one to remain still, she widened her eyes as her shoulders dropped and her spine straightened. Then her hips and feet shifted as well. "All we have to do is reunite them, then. We must get the rest of his spirit into his body, and he will be normal!"

  Ken Jin didn't move. He didn't dare. Though the idea sounded logical, he felt a dissonance, as if they had a piece of the answer but not the whole. But Charlotte had no such restraint. She widened her feet, preparing to leap up again, then apparently changed her mind. Her hands tightened on his.

  "How do we do it?" she asked. "Can I just bring his soul back and take it to my brother? Or does William have to do what I did—rejoin himself up there?" A shudder went through her. "No, we can't do that to William. I can't see him... well, I just can't do that with my brother." She frowned. "But if it's the only way..." She bit her lip. "But I can't."

  "He cannot ascend," Ken Jin said. His voice was hard, which snapped her wandering attention back to him.

  "He can't?"

  Ken Jin shook his head. "I have studied for over a decade and have never once ascended. It takes a great deal of discipline and focus."

  "But all I had to do was..." She trailed off, and her skin flushed a dark rose.

  "It is different for women, and you had a great deal of help." All of his yang, in fact; but he did not say that aloud. "A man must withhold his seed for many years. He must cultivate his yang power through mediation and discipline." He stared hard at her, willing her to understand. "He must hold in his yang power, Miss Charlotte. He cannot release it."

  Her eyes abruptly widened. "Ohhhh." Her voice trailed away. Thankfully, she had already been educated on the mechanics of a man's dragon. Indeed, young master William had lately been caught releasing his yang on a regular basis.

  "Years?" she whispered. "No, he could never hold off that long." She abruptly frowned, looking down at him. "You changed your pants."

  He pressed his lips together, but she had already guessed the truth. Nothing would stop her from saying it aloud now.

  "You didn't hold off. I saw the wetness. You released your yang."

  "Yes." His throat closed up after that one word.

  "After years? How many years?"

  He couldn't speak. He could only look down at their entwined hands as he tried to pull free.

  "Ken Jin—"

  "Fourteen years of practice. Eight years of purifying restraint."

  "Eight years? You have held off for eight years, and then I manage it on my first night?" She suddenly gasped. "Oh my God, you gave it to me. All that yang—eight years' worth—you gave it to me. Oh God, Ken Jin, why? Why would you—"

  "It was not a gift!"

  But she would not be interrupted. "You said you would teach me, that you would make me stronger to fight my mother, so you gave me all that power. Eight years' worth. Oh, Ken Jin..." She stopped, and he could see that his words had finally reached her consciousness.

  "It was not a gift?" she whispered.

  He shook his head.

  "But... I didn't steal it, Ken Jin. I wouldn't know how!"

  He had no response to that. He didn't know what to think.

>   Bit by bit, he watched the light fade from her eyes.

  "That's why you hate me now. That's why you're acting like a servant again. Because I took your yang." She bit her lip in dismay. "Eight years, Ken Jin. All gone."

  He felt his jaw clench. He knew what had happened. Did she have to keep repeating it?

  "But I didn't mean to. You understand that, don't you? You know it wasn't on purpose."

  He didn't answer, even though he knew it was true. Other women might have stolen it, if they'd known how. Other women would have taken all he had and more, if he'd allowed them. But not Charlotte. She would never be so cruel.

  "Ken Jin!"

  "It doesn't matter how it left, my yang power is gone." He kept the anger from his voice. Still, his despair slipped through as he dropped his gaze away.

  "But you can get it back, right? You can get more?"

  He thought of the hours of meditation, the thousands of needles he had pressed into his flesh, and the accumulated yin from countless women. Could he do it again? Could he gather such power again?

  "No," he whispered. The very thought left him weak and cold. Perhaps another day he would think differently. After a night's rest, perhaps he would have the strength to try again. But now, after a long and fruitless day, he felt too much a failure to even contemplate hope.

  "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "Of course you can."

  He felt a surge of humor at her forceful words. "You would instruct me, Miss Charlotte?"

  "Yes, I would—Kenny."

  His gaze narrowed at the Anglicization of his name. Why did she insist on this bizarre familiarity between them? She suddenly smiled at him, decision written in every line of her straightening body.

  "You're tired. I'm tired. Neither of us is thinking straight."

  True enough. But...

  "We will sleep tonight and attack this problem again tomorrow. You'll feel differently, I'm sure. We'll renew your yang, and then we'll do things again. Both of us together. We'll both go to Heaven this time and talk to William there." She frowned. "He'll know how to do it, won't he? How to rejoin his body on Earth?"