by Jade Lee
"So you're going to become a eunuch? Ken Jin, you just can't!"
"I can," he answered firmly. "I can help the Emperor. I have a great deal of knowledge about the whites. I speak English. They will be most grateful to have me."
"Of course they would," she snapped. "You're a brilliant man."
"I will be a brilliant eunuch."
She twisted out of his arms, then immediately missed his warmth. "But you could die!" She spun around to look at him. "I mean, don't they do this to boys? For men—"
"It will be extremely painful."
She thought it would be a great deal more. "But—"
"Adult men dedicate themselves to the Emperor. The surgeons are quite skilled with the process. Few die."
"Few!"
He shrugged. "Very few."
She felt her knees go weak and kept herself standing by sheer force of will. "No, Ken Jin, you can't." But there was no arguing the point with him. She could see it in his eyes; he was absolutely determined. He truly believed it was the only way to regain his soul. "There has to be another way."
He embraced her then. He held her arms and pressed his lips to her mouth. She tried to deepen the kiss. She tried desperately to reach him in the way they had always related—at least lately—but it didn't work. After a moment, he set her away from him. "I am going to Peking. I would have left already if you had not come."
"But—"
"I am going," he stressed. "And I wish you to go with me."
"What?"
"It will be difficult and unusual," he admitted. A ghost of a smile skated across his lips. "But the surgeons allow a companion during the process, a man's best friend."
She was gaping at him, but pulled herself together enough to try to understand. "You want me to go with you?"
"We will dress you as a coolie and cover your hair. There are ways to keep your identity hidden."
"You mean hide my white skin?"
He nodded. "Yes. There is always money paid to the family. It would be enough for your passage back here, should you choose. I will send a message to Captain Jonas. He often has business in Peking. He could come for you in a few weeks. Or I could introduce you to some whites I know in the capital."
She shook her head. "I don't care about that."
He let his hands slip to hers. "But you should care. You also need to decide your future. I can help you decide it as we travel. And after I am dedicated, there will be money to pay for whatever you wish."
She closed her eyes. This was so bizarre. "You want me to be with you, to hold your hand as they cut off your... As they..." She couldn't even say the words.
"Is that not what best friends do for one another?"
"Maybe best friends talk a person out of his idiocies," she shot back.
"This is no idiocy. It is my true path. I am sure of it."
He believed it. God help her, but he clearly did. And the knowledge brought him peace. She could see that as well.
"I..." What could she say with him looking so earnestly at her? What a great leap forward they had taken today. He'd called her his best friend. He'd shared with her today more than he had shared with anyone ever; she was sure of that. And now, as a reward, she got to sit beside him. She got to hold his hand while some Chinese doctor sliced off his manhood. And she got to sit by his bedside and pray that he survived. What did she say to that?
"Are you sure?" she whispered, already knowing the answer. "Absolutely sure?"
"I have never been more certain of anything." Passion and truth rang in his words. Then his expression softened, and he looked as if he were begging her. "Will you come, Char? Will you help me?"
What could she say except... "Yes."
* * *
March 15, 1895
Brother Ken Jin:
You must attend my wedding. Kill your employer, steal his ill-gotten gains, and come prostrate yourself before the Empress as you beg my forgiveness.
You were the clever child, the unfilial one devoid of honor or loyalty. You stole my children and my future. Only you may give it back.
Wen Gao Jin
THE HEART—The heart reflex is found only on the left foot. Supporting the left foot with your right hand, use your left thumb to work the area in horizontal lines. [Work on the ball of the foot from the base of the big toe inward to the base of the fourth toe.] The Joy of Reflexology
Ann Gillanders
Chapter 15
"What about your Dragon practice?"
Ken Jin glanced to the side of the small donkey cart and smiled at Charlotte. The late afternoon sun turned her hair to copper, making her look, for a moment, like a bright new coin. Surely that was an omen of success.
He still could not believe she had joined him on this journey—without complaint, without question. It had taken him barely an hour to arrange the last details. Most had been accomplished that morning when he bought this cart and donkey for the journey. It had been a simple matter to spend his last coins on food and coolie clothing for Charlotte. Unfortunately, it soon became clear that she intended to spend the entire journey trying to talk him out of his decision. He didn't mind, though. He liked listening to her voice.
"You have spent years practicing as a Dragon," she pressed. "Do you really want to abandon that completely?"
He shrugged. "A eunuch cannot store or refine his yang. I suppose I could still gather yin in the usual manner, but without my Dragon seat..." He shook his head. "I cannot see a reason."
"But... but..." Her voice sounded tight as she bounced in her seat. Amazing, that after seven hours on this hard board, she could move at all. He himself ached everywhere, from his knees through his arms, and most especially his behind.
"But?" he prompted when she fell silent.
"But we almost made it to Heaven. You have worked so hard. And that last time, I felt it. I felt... you know, everything."
He was silent for a long moment, the twisting of his heart making him hunch in his seat. He didn't want to make his next offer. The very thought was repellent, and yet he would not stop her just because he had chosen another path. "You may have it," he finally said.
"What?"
"My bed, the Dragon chair, all the things I have left in my rooms for practice. They are yours." He forced himself to look her in the eyes. "I sent a message to Captain Jonas before we left. He will meet you in Peking after my dedication. He will take you back to Shanghai if you wish. Then you can collect the bed and my other things. You could continue to practice."
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Then she snapped it shut again only to fiddle with her coolie hat. Finally she sighed, her entire body drooping. "I don't want to keep practicing. Not without you."
He felt a surge of happiness at her words, selfish though that was. The idea of her with anyone else infuriated him, but he had no claims to her—as a partner or a friend. The moment the surgery was complete, he would live within the Forbidden City. The outside world would cease to exist for him unless the Emperor decreed otherwise. He and Charlotte would be, in practical terms, dead to one another. And that thought pained him more than any other.
He had not realized how alone he felt until she'd sat on his floor and demanded that he talk to her as a friend. Was it a measure of his deviance that his closest companion was a white woman?
Without a full understanding of why, he reached out for her hand. He did not shift his eyes from the road, but all his attention was centered on her—on the smoothness of her skin, on the way she seemed to grip all of him with just her fingers, and how perfect her qi meshed with his. There was no dissonance in their touch, only a simple press of palm to palm, heart to heart.
"I will miss you," he said, startling himself with his words.
"You don't have to, Ken Jin," she urged as her fingers intertwined with his. "Don't—"
"I have made my decision. Do not spend the last of our time together in argument." His voice was toneless, but inside, his heart pounded in his throat and temples.
Clearly his qi was vastly out of alignment. "Will you help me tonight?" he asked, once again surprising himself with his question.
She started as well. He felt the slight jerk in her body through her hand. "Of course," she answered. "What... what do you need—"
"I would like you to help me insert the needles."
She flinched again, but he was holding her tightly. He did not release her hand even as she straightened on the hard seat. "Needles?" she asked. "As in acupuncture?"
"Yes. I cannot reach the places on my back. I will need you to—"
"I won't know where to put them," she rushed. "I... I don't want to hurt you."
"There is very little pain, and I can tell you what to do."
She fell silent for a long while. They would have to stop for the night soon, and he kept an eye out for the most likely place. At least the weather remained mild. The cool northern air was a welcome.
"Do all Chinese enjoy pain, or is it just you?"
Her statement was so odd that he thought he hadn't understood. But as he replayed her English words in his head, he knew her statement was exactly as it first appeared—completely bizarre and rather insulting as well.
He stared at her. She stared back. And so they sat for a long, long moment. Normally, she would break first; Charlotte never could remain silent for long. She would make a terrible servant in that regard. But in this case, she simply continued to look, her head tilted to one side as if she were inspecting a rare form of plant or insect. In the end, he was the one who felt compelled to speak, and he did so with a tone of great offense.
"I take no enjoyment in giving pain."
She rolled her eyes. "Not other people's pain. Your own."
"What are you talking about?"
"You stick needles into your belly. You want to cut off your dragon. You..." Her gaze abruptly dropped to his lap before jumping back to his eyes. "Maybe it's just your dragon you hate." She leaned forward. "Think about it. You have spent more than a decade denying its release."
"That is a Dragon's training," he snapped.
She shrugged. "Maybe so. But don't most men want to release their seed? I mean, doesn't it feel good?"
"I am not most men," he replied stiffly. "I have already explained the reason for this."
"Yes, yes, I know all of that. But still, most men would find it really hard to restrain themselves. Did you ever break? I mean, when you were with other women, did you ever—"
"No!" The word leapt from his strangled throat. "Not until you."
"Exactly. And you stick needles into—"
"Not into the dragon," he said, switching to Chinese. The words came out as a kind of hiss, but she was undeterred.
"No, not exactly, I suppose. But close enough. Who wants to put sharp things right there?"
"It was a treatment."
She twisted on the seat to stare at him more fully. "A treatment? For what?"
"For impotence!" he shot back.
She frowned, obviously not understanding his word even though he said it in English. To make matters worse, the Chinese word for such a condition was "eunuch," which would further confuse matters. That meant he had to explain the condition.
"For a weak and limp dragon."
She frowned. "But isn't it usually limp? I mean, you can't always have—"
"Always," he ground out. "An always weak dragon."
"Well, yes. Always whenever you're not—"
"Always!" he ground out. "That is the problem. It is always weak, always limp! It began long ago with less power, less strength every day. And in the last year..." He shook his head. "It was a dead thing. No life at all."
She stared at him, her mouth open and her eyes wide as she at last understood. He turned away and his face burned with shame. But then she laughed. She didn't only laugh; she held her sides and guffawed. She startled birds. She nearly fell off the cart. Even their placidly slow donkey snorted and flicked his tail in irritation.
"I do not see the cause for humor!" he growled as she paused for breath. But that only made her laugh harder, until she finally could laugh no more. He shot her another glare just as she was wiping the tears from her eyes.
"Oh, don't get snooty on me," she said between giggles. "You're the one who started it."
"Started what? I merely explained a procedure—"
"You merely lied through your teeth and think I'm stupid enough to—"
"That was no lie!"
She stared at him a moment, then descended into another long peal of laughter. It was a long while before she finally contained herself. "And here I was thinking you had no sense of humor."
"Of course I do," he grumbled. "But I was your servant. Servants do not make jokes."
"Well, you're not my servant now, and you definitely made a joke."
"It was no joke!" he snapped.
She grinned at him. "Ken Jin, you're not impotent. I know that from personal experience. And even if I didn't, your... um... size and girth is well known among the ladies you have visited."
He turned and stared at her, unsure what to say.
"Yes," she returned, and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the fading sunlight. "Legendary. My God, Ken Jin, you have a large and healthy dragon. Whatever made you think you were... whatever that word is? Impotent?"
His mind worked very slowly. "Legendary?"
"I have told you and told you that you have a reputation."
She had, but his reputation was because he pleased women as he gathered their yin, not for the use of his dragon. He lifted his chin, his words and spine stiff. "Surely I am known more for my restraint." He turned away. "That was a product of my condition."
"Your condition was described as bulging, muscular, and astonishing," she shot back.
He frowned. "Muscular?" He shook his head. "White women exaggerate."
"No," she retorted. "No, they didn't. Remember, I know the truth."
"But... with you it was different," he huffed. "Why else do you think I allowed myself to practice with my employer's daughter?"
She abruptly fell silent. After a moment, he realized that her laughter had been replaced by hurt. He turned to look at her, only to see that she'd turned from him. He could glimpse only the smallest portion of one cheek.
"Char?"
"Is that why you came to my bedroom? Is that why...? You know. Because I made your dragon stiff?"
Up ahead, he finally saw a place to stop for the night. He clucked to the donkey, his attention split between maneuvering the cart and his companion. "You were my employer's daughter. You know what I risked being with you."
"I know," she answered in a small voice. "I know what you lost because of me. What I want to know is why." He heard her shift her body back toward him. "Why, Ken Jin? Why did you take such a risk?"
He frowned at the stubborn donkey who would not move according to direction. "Because you stiffened my dragon, Char, in a way that no one had done in a very long time. I was beginning to fear it had died."
Finally, the donkey obeyed, and Ken Jin could direct his full attention to Charlotte. He turned to see her face compressed in thought, her eyes distant in memory.
"I don't understand," she said. "All those women. All that yin you gathered for years. They all said—"
He grunted and set down the reins. "I do not know what they said, nor do I care. I know the truth, Char. My dragon was a withered pole until you." He shook his head. "At first, I thought my renewed strength was because of the treatments."
"Treatments?" she echoed. "The acupuncture?"
"Yes. But I soon realized it had nothing to do with my qi. It was yours. Your power is such that even my lost yang responded to it."
"My qi?"
"Your... You."
"And all those other women, they couldn't get you to... Your dragon didn't respond to them, so you thought you were impotent."
"I was impotent. I wouldn't even undress before them. Then you touched me and everything changed."
"It ca
n't be true."
He threw up his hands in frustration, then hid the reaction by climbing out of the cart. "No man wishes to discuss this, Char." He grumbled low curses beneath his breath as he released the harness on the donkey. Meanwhile, Charlotte climbed out of the cart, moving with the kind of care induced by hours seated on a hard bench.
"I just can't believe it's true," she continued as she grabbed the beast's brushes and bucket. Ken Jin had spent the last of his coins on this trip. Looking at her, he felt his heart swelling with joy that she didn't mind helping with the poor creature's care.
He tethered the donkey to a nearby tree and let her work. Meanwhile, he spread blankets in the back of the cart for a bed. He knew she might refuse to share the space. He was fully prepared to sleep on the ground, but he hoped differently. He hoped—
Suddenly, she stood before him. He could smell the work she had been doing. He noticed the dust in her hair and on her skin. He even saw the pull of fatigue on her face. But mostly he saw her: the last caress of sunlight sparkling in her wide blue eyes, the slight moisture on her red lips, and the simple honesty in her spirit.
"You are not impotent," she said. Then she pressed her hand to his dragon. Neither of them moved. She gave no caresses, no stimulation. And yet his dragon steadily thickened. "You are not impotent," she repeated.
"Only with you," he stressed.
"Then it was your choice in partners that was at fault. Not your... not your biology."
He smiled. "Whatever the fault, you have cured it." And then he could not stop himself; he reached up and caressed her cheek. How beautiful she was. Even with her covered in dust and dressed as the poorest laborer, he could not take his eyes from her.
"Kiss me, Ken Jin."
He could not refuse. Pressing his lips to hers, he felt the burn of her powerful yin the moment they touched. His yang was already rising. It always did when they were together. And yet, something was different. Something felt more pure than before, or perhaps simply less cluttered. Was it her? He couldn't tell. Perhaps it was them both, because they had left their lives in Shanghai.
Whatever the truth, he could not turn from the power. His hands found her hips and drew her closer. With all his skill, his lips and tongue stroked, teased, and suckled her. She more than matched him, and soon he was lost to all but the pulsing beat of their combined qi.