by Jade Lee
"Hissing?"
He said something in Mandarin. She did not understand the dialect, but she could hear the large number of sibilant sounds. The words did indeed sound like a snake's hiss.
"My mother loved lychee nuts," he continued, and his hands lifted as he remembered. "She would eat the meat, then suck on the stones. Always she had one in her mouth, so she talked like this." He spoke again, but with a lisp that had her laughing in delight.
"How could you understand her?"
He shrugged. "I was her child—of course I would understand." Then he abruptly closed his mouth, and his expression shifted. He blanked his emotions out completely, and the sudden return to his servant persona was shocking.
"Ken Jin? Is your mother dead?"
"She died of a fever many years ago, along with my father and grandmother." He lifted his gaze and pinned her with a dark stare. "My brother blames the whites."
She pulled back. "For a fever?"
His gaze was uncompromising. "Whites have brought diseases to China."
"And opium, I know. But we brought ships, housing, and commerce, too."
He did not so much as blink. "I have worked for whites since I was twelve. You do not have to tell me what they have and have not done in my country."
She frowned. He clearly wanted her to understand something, but—
"You wanted to know about my family. Here is all you need to know: They despise the whites. I think one brother may have helped murder missionaries—" She gasped in horror, but he did not stop. "At best, they want you all gone. At worst..."
"Dead. They want us all dead."
He nodded, clearly thinking he'd shocked her. In truth, she was more annoyed than horrified. It wasn't as if the attitude was unusual. Anyone who actually looked would know exactly what the Chinese thought of the ghost barbarians.
"I asked if you had a best friend, Ken Jin."
He blinked. Then she thought he flushed. His skin turned more golden in the harsh afternoon light, but he didn't answer.
"Who do you talk to, Ken Jin? Do you have a confidant?"
He shook his head. "I have work, or I did. I have goals. Why would I invite disaster by telling anyone?"
"You must be very lonely," she murmured. "Even your room is bare."
"That is your father's fault," he said with marked irritation.
"No. It was spare even before."
He didn't answer. In the end, she dropped her head back against the higher slope of the Dragon chair and smiled at him. "Tell me about your fiancée."
He flinched.
"How did you meet her?"
"My younger brother engaged us. She is my cousin on my mother's uncle's side."
"Second cousin?"
He frowned, as he no doubt sorted through the English terms. "My great-uncle's great-granddaughter."
"You haven't met her, have you?"
He lifted his chin. "Once. A few years ago during New Year's celebration." He let his eyes drop slightly. "She has big feet."
Charlotte stiffened. "You don't actually find that attractive, do you—feet the size of a guinea? Ken Jin, that's—"
"Smallness in a female is prized, Miss... Char," he amended.
"But you..." She swallowed, suddenly aware of her large feet, her large breasts, her large... well, everything. She was not small-boned. But then again, neither was he. For a Chinese, Ken Jin was downright huge. "I cannot imagine you with a tiny wife. You would dwarf her—"
"I have no special liking for tiny things," he finally admitted. Indeed, it sounded as if he was ashamed. "I suppose I have spent so much time with whites, I appreciate curves."
She blinked. Was he looking at her breasts? He raised his gaze to hers and a smile tilted his mouth.
"I like your curves very well, Char. And your well-formed feet." He leaned forward. "Truthfully, I understand bound feet smell terrible!"
She giggled, as he obviously meant her to. But then she sobered as she set her intellect to work on what she'd just learned. "So, your fiancée is a distant cousin and she has large feet."
"Her mother died in childbirth. There was no one to bind them."
"Which means she can't be considered a marriage prize. Were your mother's feet bound?"
He nodded.
"And your grandmother's?"
"Yes."
"So that's a bit of a step down for you, isn't it? To marry a woman without bound feet. And for your brother to make the engagement... it's almost an insult." She paused to study his face. "Isn't it?"
His gaze dropped to his hands, which were neatly folded in his lap. Finally he spoke. "As I said, my family despises the whites."
"And you for working for them?"
He remained very still. Charlotte couldn't even tell if he was breathing. Then he spoke, his voice low and emotionless. "They despised me long before that. I was disowned before I came to Shanghai."
"Disowned?" She gaped at him. "But... before Shanghai? You must have been two years old!"
"I was eight."
"My God. How did you survive?"
His posture slumped—not significantly, but just enough for her to realize that these memories were painful for him. Which made her feel doubly honored that he shared them with her. "My grandmother sent me to the Tan family. My grandmother was a Tigress like Tan Shi Po. She begged her sister-in-the-practice to care for me. And Shi Po did."
"The Tans who are in jail now?"
He nodded, his misery obvious.
"I'm so sorry, Ken Jin. But I'm sure you can get them out."
He shook his head. "I am penniless now. The most I can do is pray for Imperial favor, but that will take a long time."
She took hold of his hands. They were cold, Asian smooth, and yet when she touched him, they opened to receive her. She felt the calluses along his fingers and palms, and she felt his strength as he gently gripped her.
"I have a plan," he finally said, his words low. "But I am afraid."
She leaned forward and tried to communicate her faith to him through their hands. "You won't fail," she murmured. "I know you, Ken Jin. You never fail at anything."
He released a short huff of humor. It wasn't a laugh as much as a groan, the creak of a tree when blown too far by the wind. "I fail," he said. "Indeed, I have failed at everything I intended from the day I was disowned." He looked into her eyes. "Charlotte, a Chinese man is nothing without his family, his every effort is doomed."
"Nonsense!" she snapped. "We whites value family as well, but there is much that a man all alone can accomplish. For example, such a man could travel alone from Peking to Shanghai. He could learn English and begin work on the docks. He could find a job as a First Boy and make lots of money doing so. He could... he could befriend his employer's daughter and... and..."
"And she would become his dearest friend."
She looked at him and tried hard to hide the surge of yin heat his words produced inside her. "I... I am?"
He drew her hands up to his lips in a very loverlike, very European manner. "I have not spoken of my past or my future with anyone since..." His voice faded away, but she guessed what he'd been about to say.
"Since Little Pearl?" she asked, hating to say that woman's name, but needing to know the truth.
He shook his head. This time his laugh was not so forced. "I told nothing to Little Pearl. Our focus was very different." His mouth curved in a smile. "I spoke for a while with Tan Kui Yu in the way a boy speaks with a teacher."
"Or a father."
He acknowledged her comment with a slight dip of his head. "But never a woman. Never until you."
"I am honored," she whispered. And she was, right down to the very bottom of her soul.
Ken Jin abruptly straightened. His shoulders slid back and his spine straightened, but he did not stand. He had the attitude of a man who had just come to a decision, especially as he withdrew his hands from hers. And when he spoke, it was directly at her, with barely a hitch to betray the great emotions he s
urely hid.
"I must tell you why I was disowned," he said.
She waited, her breath held in anticipation.
"There is a tradition in my family. I understand the English have something similar. The eldest son follows in the father's footsteps. My father was an acupuncturist. My oldest brother was to learn that path as well."
She nodded. "The English do something similar. The eldest son is the heir."
"Yes, exactly. But what do the other sons do?"
She shrugged. "Whatever they can, I suppose. One often goes into the military. Another the church. My father came here and started his tobacco and wine shops."
"So it was in my family as well. The eldest son learns at his father's knee, but the second son is given to the Emperor."
She frowned. "Given to the Emperor. You mean, becomes a soldier or takes the civil service examination?"
Ken Jin shook his head. "He is given to the Emperor as a eunuch."
Charlotte stared, at first unable to understand. She knew what a eunuch was. Indeed, everyone discussed the barbaric practices of mutilation in China: girls whose feet were kept at a horrifying three inches in length, boys who had their privates cut off—all off, dragon pearls, jade stalk, everything—just so they could live as servants to the Emperor. Horrible.
"But... but you are the second son, aren't you?" She couldn't stop herself from looking at his groin. He was no eunuch.
Ken Jin's gaze dropped to his hands. His long fingers were still, but she had learned that the quieter he became, the more disturbed he was. At the moment, Ken Jin was very upset. "Yes, I was the second son—the one to be given to the Emperor." His eyes became dark and filled with pain, and he didn't move except to speak. She didn't dare touch him, but she kept her hands palm up before her in case he reached for her.
"My uncle came when I was eight," he continued. "The uncle who is a eunuch."
"Did you know why?"
He nodded. "My mother told me the night before. She explained it to me so I wouldn't be afraid."
"But they were going to chop off... to cut off... Of course you were going to be afraid! Who wouldn't be terrified?"
"I was very young, but I was also clever." He didn't sound like that was a good thing, and at last she began to put the clues together.
"What did you do? Were you disowned because you refused?"
He shook his head. "There is no refusal in China, not for a child."
"But—"
"I tricked my older brother Gao Jin into going."
She frowned. Then she stared. "Your older brother—"
"My father's heir. He was given to the Emperor instead of me."
"And being a child, you probably thought that you would step into his position as heir."
He blanched. It was a subtle shift in color, but Charlotte was watching him very closely. Still, he did not hide from her statement. "I was very jealous of my brother," he said, his words flat and somewhat halting. "He had no interest in acupuncture. If anything, he had a cruel streak." His gaze flickered. "He enjoyed sticking the needles in. He especially loved twisting them." He flinched, apparently in memory. "It can be quite painful."
She leaned forward. "He practiced on you, didn't he?" Ken Jin's eyes widened in surprise, and she almost laughed. "It's not a large leap. Many people are jealous of their siblings. Was he much older than you?"
"Barely a year."
"So, he was the great heir. He got to stab his brother over and over and claim he was practicing for his future career."
Ken Jin nodded. "He would have made a poor acupuncturist. I was the younger, but I understood the art. I memorized the qi lines."
"You wanted his place. It's only natural."
"Yes!" But then his eyes clouded, and his body slowly drew in on itself. His chin dipped, his spine curved, and his gaze dropped to the floor. "I was wrong." He sighed. "I was very, very wrong."
"But why?" She leaned forward, daring to touch his leg. "If you ask me, the system is at fault. Of course you were jealous of your brother—all second sons are. And if you had more aptitude, you should have inherited the shop, and your brother..."
"What?" he pressed when her voice faltered. "Did he deserve to have his dragon sliced off because I wanted to be an acupuncturist? Dragon, jade stalk, and dragon pearls—all gone in a single cut!"
She shook her head, startled by his vehemence. "N-no. Of course not. No one should have that happen to them."
He shook his head. "What would you know? You are a barbarian."
"Ken Jin!"
He pushed her hand off his leg. "We are in China, Charlotte, and I am Chinese. My family has always given the second son to the Emperor. And I—in my arrogance—chose to subvert that order."
"You were eight years old!"
"I was a cheat! And everything I have done since that moment has been a lie." He spoke firmly, his voice loud and true. Charlotte could see that he believed what he said, and yet she couldn't understand a word of it.
Pushing to her feet in frustration, she began to pace the room. How odd that she was the one stomping about his room when he sat with complete composure. "How can you be so calm? You were a child who didn't want to be mutilated. That doesn't make you a cheat."
"It was my path whether I knew it or not."
She let her head drop backward and stared at the ceiling. There was no talking to the man. "So, what happened when your family found out?"
"I had a younger brother. He was healthy and more sweet-tempered than either me or my older brother."
She straightened to look at him. "They made him the heir?" she guessed.
He nodded. "I was disowned and thrown out of the house. They hoped I would run to Peking to embrace my true path."
"Well, thank God you didn't."
He shrugged. "My grandmother interfered. She gave me money and directions. She sent me to the Tigress Shi Po."
"At least someone in your family had sense."
He sighed. "She was a foolish old woman. She was wrong, but she erred out of love. I cannot hate her for that."
Charlotte blinked. She couldn't possibly have heard him correctly.
He saw her gaping at him and stood, crossing to her side. "My path has always been in service to the Emperor. It was so ordered the moment I was born a second son."
"But you escaped. You shouldn't—"
"There is no escaping the will of Heaven. Do you not understand that?"
"What 'will'? Tradition isn't the same as a heavenly decree."
He shook his head. "Everything I have done since that moment has been a failure."
She felt a panic begin deep in her belly. "You can't mean that. You've done well for yourself."
"I have done well for the barbarians invading my country."
"We're not invading!" she snapped. "And we're not barbarians! Stop saying that."
"You are unwanted. You use gunboats to enforce your presence, and opium to weaken our will."
She bit her lip. It was true. As much as she pretended otherwise, the Chinese had a legitimate grievance against the whites. Still, she felt her eyes burn with unshed tears. "You can't think that I—"
He touched his finger to her lips, stopping her words. "I think you are the sun in the sky, Miss Charlotte—"
"Char."
"Miss Charlotte," he repeated. "And I believe you are my closest friend."
Moved, she pressed a kiss to his finger. She tried to lean into him. She wanted to kiss him, but he held her away.
"That is why I need you to come with me."
She frowned. "Come with you where?"
"I am going to Peking. I am going to return to the place where I left the Tao—the true path."
She shook her head, horror rising to choke off her breath.
"Yes. Yes, Miss Charlotte, I am going to dedicate myself to the Emperor." She heard the ring of passion in his voice. Determination, but also joy.
"No, Ken Jin. You can't!"
"Yes, Miss Charlotte,
I will." His eyes begged her to understand. "It is the only way I can regain what I lost."
"You're going to lose a great deal more!"
He shook his head. "No, I will regain everything. Can't you see that?"
"You're doing penance for something that happened when you were eight!" She was screaming now. She had lost all control, but he was talking about mutilating himself!
He frowned. "What is penance?"
"Hurting yourself. Punishment. Because of what happened—"
"It did not just 'happen,'" he snapped. "I did it. I did it to my brother."
"But he's not going to get his dragon back," she countered. "Doing this won't help him at all."
He growled. He actually growled at her, and his hands gripped her arms tighter. "This is not for my brother's forgiveness. I have already received that."
She pulled up short, surprised. A brother with a mean streak would not easily forgive Ken Jin's crime. After all, Gao Jin had lost his birthright along with the rest. She narrowed her eyes. "What did you do?"
"What?"
"What did you do to gain his forgiveness?"
Ken Jin sighed. It seemed as if the breath came from the depths of his soul, from his very roots. "Please listen to me, Char."
She bit her lip. It was obvious that this meant a great deal to him. She would do her best to understand, if only to ease his pain. "I'm listening," she finally managed.
"I return now to my preordained path. It is not punishment. It is not to seek forgiveness. In order for my life to have meaning, I must walk the right path."
"And that path means... castration?"
"Yes." There was no compromise in his tone, only absolute determination and a kind of weary knowledge. He had not come to this decision lightly ; that much was clear.
"What about your fiancée?" she asked, knowing she was clutching at straws. "Won't she be upset?"
He shrugged. "I have already given her and her family all my money. That is what they truly wanted."
She felt pieces of the puzzle click into place. "That's why you never have any money. That's why you live in this tiny little place." Other men in his position built grand palaces for themselves. "You've been giving it all to your bride's family."
He nodded. "I was trying to buy my way back to the right path, but that is not possible. I cannot buy—"