Burning Tigress

by Jade Lee

  Ken Jin opened his mouth to answer, but no words came forth. He had no idea what the angelic William knew or didn't know.

  "Of course, he will," she continued. "He'll know, and he'll tell us, and then we'll do it. Then my brother will be normal, and everything will be just perfect."

  "Miss Charlotte—" he began.

  "Char!" she snapped, a flash of anger pushing through her determined cheer. "We are compatriots now, Kenny. Coconspirators, so to speak, with a joint mission."

  He stared at her. He looked hard and waited while her false cheer withered. When he spoke, it was to a subdued but still determined Charlotte.

  "My name is not Kenny, Miss Charlotte, and we are not compatriots in anything. My yang is gone, and I will not get it back again ever. I cannot free the Tigress or her husband from prison, and I will never ascend to Heaven with you or anyone else." With a supreme act of will, he pushed up from his chair, stepped away from her, and crossed to the door. "We are done, Miss Charlotte. It was an ill-conceived idea from the beginning, and I regret ever attempting this course."

  "Ken Jin—"

  "Good night, Miss Charlotte." He bowed to her, then turned to exit.

  "Ken Jin!" she called, and he froze at her tone. He was too good a servant not to. He looked back at her.

  "You are angry, and you have every right to be. You are tired and frustrated and... and I don't know what else, but I'm sure you're it." She huffed as she stood and folded her arms. "But you're completely off if you think we can stop. You're not just my servant, and I'm not just your employer. Not anymore."

  "We are not lovers," he said, his voice harsh. "We are not friends. We are not even partners as a Tigress and Dragon should be. I taught, and you learned. I gave, and you soared." His voice caught, and his chest caved in slightly from the pain. "I am one man, Miss Charlotte, and a tired one at that. I can do no more."

  She crossed the room to his side. He expected to see determination in her stride, or maybe fury at being denied. He saw compassion instead: a stunning softness in her eyes and a gentleness in her face. She stood before him, so close that she had to tilt her head upward to look into his eyes. He didn't want to be this close. He didn't want to shift his gaze down to her, but the wall prevented his retreat, and his dragon urged him forward.

  "I see I have handled this very badly," Charlotte whispered. "I am sorry for that, Ken Jin. But it is all so new to me, and you have always been strong. I'd begun to think you could do anything."

  He opened his mouth to speak, though he had no idea what to say. She didn't give him the chance; she pressed her finger to his lips.

  "I don't want you to do anything, Ken Jin. It's my turn to do the doing." She frowned at her own awkward wording. "I've seen Joanna's scrolls. I will learn whatever needs to be done. I can—"

  "No." He shook his head, dislodging her finger from his mouth, though the imprint lingered. "It is not so easy—"

  She kissed him. She surged up onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his.

  The sacred texts spoke at length about kissing. Over the years, he had studied a great deal about the art of lips and tongues. Miss Charlotte had obviously read none of them. Her approach was too rushed, her force too strong. She knew to open her mouth, but had no idea why. In the end he had to catch her about the waist to prevent them both from toppling over. And yet, as his arm wrapped around her, he felt her yin power sear his skin like a brand. Not even Little Pearl had such energy.

  He meant to set her away from him. He meant to end this disaster with some dignity, and with the cold firmness he had developed for whenever a white woman became too demanding. He did not. Instead, he drew her lush body flush against him, surrounding himself with her power. And when it was not enough, he dove deeper. He pushed his tongue into her mouth.

  He had read the sacred scrolls, so he knew how to kiss. He knew how to begin with a single brush of his tongue, how to coax with a wet caress, how to entice with a little suction. All these skills came into play, and she responded with such yin that his body grew hot and hard.

  How wondrous was her mouth. How full were her breasts. How yielding were her thighs. He bent forward, arching her back over his arm. His tongue twisted with hers and her hands delved into his hair, drawing him down into her. Deeper. Fuller.

  He took her breast in his free hand, shaping it to a tight point even through fabric and corset restraints. His knee pressed between her legs, working her skirt higher as she shifted and moaned. But mostly, he kissed her mouth. He plunged his tongue into her and tasted her yin. He drank of her unending power, using it to refill his own empty well.

  She gave to him without complaint. She poured energy into him as a goddess into a supplicant. Her yin called to his yang, and his male energy surged forward to match her feminine power. And when he could drink no more—when he had to stop for breath—she pulled him back and gave him more.

  How long did they merge in this manner? How long did he plunge into her mouth and drink from her stores? He didn't know. He had no idea except that it went on until he was satisfied, though his thirst had been overwhelming. Their kiss continued until his spirit was refilled and his dragon stretched high and proud.

  He straightened, pulling back from her in a daze. She was pressed against the wall, and her dress had become completely disheveled. How they had come there, he didn't know. He had only pulled back because he needed more attention to release her gown and untie her corset. But now that he had drawn away, now that his mind was focusing on more than just her mouth, he knew what he had done, what they were doing.

  "Ken Jin?" Her voice was a throaty rasp that fired the yang in his blood.

  "I cannot," he whispered. "I cannot practice more tonight. I haven't the strength." It had been an exhausting day and night. And yet, new yang pulsed hot and free in his blood. Could he practice again? Was she powerful enough for the two of them?

  Impossible! And yet, his dragon swelled with her power.

  She blinked, and her tiny tongue wet her lips. She lifted a hand to her hair, brushing it down where the wall had tangled it. "You're right, of course," she said on a weak laugh. "I don't know what I was thinking."

  He straightened away from her; gave a groan of mixed pleasure and pain. How long had it been since his dragon throbbed as it did now? How long since he had felt drugged with the heady potion of yin and yang in combination?

  A few hours, only. But before Charlotte? A long, long time.

  "So your yang is returning?" she asked as she looked at his jutting dragon.

  He nodded dumbly. The evidence thrust proudly between them.

  She smiled, and he felt the radiance of the sun in the simple gesture. "Then it won't take eight years this time. We can replenish your yang quickly." She lifted her gaze to his. "I swear, Ken Jin, I will work very hard at this. Night and day, whenever we can. We will replace what was lost, and then we will try again."

  He stared at her, his mouth slack. What could he say against such determination? How could he deny either of them the hope that it was true, that she could indeed restore the work of eight years? With her, his yang was more powerful, his energy more potent, the experience more heavenly than ever before. With a single kiss, she had given him the one thing he hadn't felt in so long: hope. With her, he believed he could be filled with qi, Heaven was attainable, and immortality was within reach. But only with her.

  "My father said he had a business trip tomorrow."

  "What?" Ken Jin blinked, his mind reeling as he tried to understand her words.

  "My father is leaving on a business trip."

  Ken Jin nodded. Mr. Wicks headed to Canton and his current favorite mistress.

  "Mama intends to help with a prayer vigil tomorrow. I will convince her to stay at the mission. She'll be gone at least a day."

  He knew this, too. He had to remember to check Mrs. Wicks's luggage in the morning. She often forgot her perfumed lotion when she went to the mission. Then she would send a messenger in the middle
of the night to bring a bottle to her. There was also a special cushion for when she prayed.

  "We must be sure to take William to the park again," Charlotte continued. "Add in a bath and a nap, and he will be occupied for hours!" She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. "We can spend hours alone together!"

  Except, Ken Jin had appointments all day on the docks.

  A shipment for three of the Wicks tobacco shops was due in tomorrow. It wasn't the opium that made most of the Wicks money, but it was vital nonetheless. There would be customs taxes to pay, bills of lading to sort, and cargo to transport. Plus, Ken Jin suspected the dockmaster was extorting goods from the ship's captain, which often meant that the Wicks goods were just slightly underweight. Ken Jin meant to catch the man in the act and extort a refund for what had gone missing.

  And on top of all that was the extra shipment of lace ordered under the Wicks name, but paid for from Ken Jin's own coffers. After taxes and transport, he ought to see a good profit from the transaction. But all of it had to be watched closely.

  "Hours, Ken Jin. I can hardly wait for what we will study next." Charlotte's eyes sparkled with delight. "Could you finally show me how to play your jade flute, like in the pictures?"

  Ken Jin didn't answer. Hope was such a fleeting thing, he realized. Now that their kiss was over, reality began to intrude. He recalled all the obstacles they faced, all the risks that remained. "Miss Charlotte, I cannot lose my job." All of his money was invested under her father's name. If he lost his job, he would lose everything.

  "There's nothing to worry about," she promised happily. "Everything will work out perfectly." Then she pushed up on her toes. The movement was so quick, he had no time to stop her and no time to think. She pressed a kiss to his lips, then danced away. Then she gave a happy sashay and a hop before she dashed up the stairs to her bedroom.

  He could have followed, of course. He could have run after her and told her this was impossible. No First Boy could partner with the daughter of the house, not if he expected to keep his life, much less his job. But he couldn't stop himself or her.

  Nothing had changed, he suddenly realized. He had lost all his yang, and yet he would not leave this path. He toyed with his entire financial future, but he would not be swayed. She was his Tigress, and he was her Dragon. Despite the risks, they would see this through to the end.

  Still, he could not shake a sense of doom. He turned away from the stairs to collect the cold teapot and cup, his thoughts caught in this intuition of disaster. Surely his fortune could not withstand this risk. Heaven would not bless practice with a white woman.

  Then he understood. The answer came as a blinding flash through his mind. The grip of inspiration was so powerful, it dropped him to his knees. He had not been blessed this night. Heaven had not reversed his fortunes or kissed his spirit. Indeed, it was merely continuing his curse, but in the most cruel of ways.

  Not only were his labors doomed to make the white men rich, but now his devotion was fated to make a white woman immortal. Just as his work had not brought money to his coffers, this practice would not take him to Heaven. His work would profit the white master, his yang the white daughter.

  And for him? Nothing but toil and emptiness. And the cruel, taunting illusion of hope.

  * * *

  (To Wen Ken Jin from one who serves the Imperial Dragon throne: Eunuch Wen Gao Jin.)

  September 20, 1895

  Kind Sir,

  Have you visited Peking lately? The Wen Acupuncturist shop has fallen in reputation of late. The remaining son, Feng Jin, is the only acupuncturist left. He works night and day seeing patients, and has no time to mend the benches or clean the basins. His wife is a lazy shrew who gives no supervision to the many children that run screaming through the building. Newly arrived cousins give no relief, having descended like locusts at last New Year's holiday. All waited for them to leave, but the latest shift of the Yellow River has ruined their family. Their farm is destroyed and so they never left Peking. They remain underfoot, demanding food and giving no thought to the expense.

  Even I am not immune to the Wen despair. Not two days ago, water flooded the eunuchs' room of sacred treasure. Every one of our manhoods suffered taint, but mine worst of all. I arrived barely in time to rescue it from the ravages of a rat. Such sorrow, such a devastating curse for a once prosperous family!

  Wen Feng Jin searches desperately for an end to the family's misfortune. I visited the Empress Cixi's fortune-teller, who told me the curse could only be lifted by an act of great charity. It is the only hope for this once prosperous family.

  There is a solution. The Wen family has a cousin who resides in the shop with them. Yan Wan is aptly named for her beauty and peaceful nature. Though not yet nine years old, she already has many admirers. Unfortunately, all fear that she will grow sick for lack of proper food and clothing.

  If only a husband would apply for her. If she were betrothed, no one would look askance if the husband-to-be paid for her maintenance, and the health and growth of her entire family. Such a man would be prized above all for his charity. The two could be wed immediately upon her sixteenth birthday. Then, perhaps, the Wen family curse would lift. Indeed, I am sure Feng Jin would hire the greatest calligrapher in Peking to inscribe the man's name on the family altar.

  Sincerely,

  Eunuch Wen Gao Jin

  ~

  June 17, 1895

  To Wen patriarch Feng Jin,

  Please accept this humble gift as a token of the esteem I hold for Wen Jan Wan. Tales of her virtue and beauty have reached as far as Shanghai. I know she is of a young age, but such is her glory that I would be honored to bear the burden of her education and growth in anticipation of our joyous union.

  In hope,

  Wen Ken Jin

  (Attached, two bolts of the finest Shanghai silk and two bolts of fine cotton. The first silk bolt is celebration red, with embroidered images of happiness and good luck such as would be worn on holidays. The second is a rich blue, the design of a thousand cranes soaring in the sky, to be worn on special occasions, but not during weddings or New Year's celebrations. The two cotton bolts show a variety of bird and flower designs as appropriate for daily use.)

  The tongue is the sense organ of the fire element and the energetic extension of the heart. To exercise the tongue, bring the tip of the tongue in front of the upper teeth inside the lips. Circle the tongue down to the inside lower lip. Continue to circle in front of the teeth and inside the lips about thirty-six times and then switch directions.

  Sexual Reflexology

  Chia, Wei

  Chapter 10

  The Tigress Shi Po had an excellent gardener. Charlotte looked about the front courtyard and allowed herself to relax into the beauty of the place. Ken Jin had brought her here two days earlier, but at the time, this entire front area had been in broken disarray. Now everything was in order. Beauty was restored, and peace reigned. If only her heart would stop racing, she could thoroughly enjoy it. Instead, she could only glare at the huge expanse of green and damn Ken Jin for disappearing on her.

  Four days. Four days ago, he had left the house to work away from home. "Hide" was more like it. Why would he do that—especially when both her mother and father were out of the house? Charlotte didn't know. Men were unfathomable, and Chinese men were even more so. Whatever the reason, Ken Jin had been completely unavailable to her. So she was no closer to returning to Heaven, which meant she had made no progress on reuniting her brother with his full spirit. Where was the man? Didn't he want his yang restored? Wasn't that what all men lived for?

  Left alone, she had tried to study the Tigress scrolls, struggling with the strange characters, memorizing each and every picture, even trying to practice. Indeed, because of those exercises, her breasts had spent the last four days in achy fullness and her groin in a wet heat. But Ken Jin had not returned to her. He left early in the morning and returned long after she'd fallen into a frustrated, restless sleep.
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  She knew he had work to do. Apparently multiple shipments had arrived, and there was something about a corrupt dock person. She realized his work took a great deal of time. But he hadn't even answered the messages she'd placed carefully under his pillow. Indeed, if not for the instructions he'd left the staff, she would have wondered if he came home at all.

  Then yesterday, she'd made the greatest sacrifice of all. She'd left the Tigress scrolls on his bed. When she'd woken this morning, she'd found a present on her pillow—a bottle of Ken Jin's oil and a razor. Thinking he meant to come to her today to assist her in the task, she had dressed with special care. But when she'd descended the stairs, she'd learned that he was gone and would return before nightfall.

  That was the last straw. If he would not teach her, she would have to find direction elsewhere. Moments later, she'd changed into her Chinese clothes. She'd covered her head in a coolie hat, grabbed an inordinate amount of Chinese money, and set off for Chinese Shanghai. Thank God she and Joanna had done this enough that it wasn't a problem. She'd left notice with the staff where she was going. If Ken Jin wanted to find her, he could.

  A short hour later, a rickshaw had deposited her in front of the Tigress school and now she paced about the immaculate front courtyard waiting for Little Pearl. What she hoped to gain wasn't exactly clear in her mind. Information, mostly, anything that would help her understand her experience. She couldn't stop thinking about that night.

  From Ken Jin's caresses, to the Antechamber, to Heaven, to William's angel and Ken Jin's kisses—it was all too much to understand. She needed someone to talk to, someone who understood what had happened, what was to come, and what it all meant.

  "And what does Ken Jin's newest pet want with me?" drawled a familiar voice in Shanghai dialect.

  Charlotte spun around, startled once again not only by Little Pearl's obvious acrimony, but by the woman's overwhelming beauty. "Teach me how to stimulate Ken Jin's yang." She spoke without thought, because Little Pearl had demanded an answer. But as she heard her own Chinese words, Charlotte gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. This was not at all how she'd intended to approach this woman.