by Meg Xuemei X
As the night deepens, I sense a trickling air of mystery and danger. The only soundtrack comes from our footsteps and the wind. The path is barely lit by the pale crescent moon. We soon approach the foot of the hill. I look ahead at the horizon blocked by the dark mountains; an unsettled feeling hits me like a cold wave—how long can Kai and I enjoy each other’s company? My mind wraps around my mother, his mother, the twins, and the school principals. Sooner or later one of them or all of them will strike, forcing us apart. We’re only biding time.
“You okay? What’s bothering you?” Kai asks.
“I’m fine.” Pushing away the dark feeling, I tilt my head to look up at him, flashing him an assuring smile.
Then the wind sends the delicious smell of stewed meat our way, distracting me altogether. I realize how hungry I am.
I survey the area that is characterized by a dusty road and a few scattered, shabby houses. Among them, a small cottage stands out that is better lit and in better shape. A banner with a handwritten sign that reads “Dragon Tavern” flaps in the wind under its roof. Whoever wrote the character of the dragon (龍) forgot to include one of the dragon’s claws. But it doesn’t really matter, since no one would relate this place to a dragon anyway.
“Let’s go eat, Xire.” Kai heads toward the tavern. “I’m starving.”
Despite the aching hunger in my stomach, I hesitate, but he’s already pulled me into the Dragon Tavern. “No one will recognize you at such a remote place,” he says. “You’re safe.”
I shoot him a look. It’s not about discretion. I’ve never been to a restaurant. I don’t know what to expect and how to act. More than anything, I don’t want to appear uncool in front of him.
I take in the interior of the restaurant. The walls are newly painted in an amateurish way. Three dented, wooden tables half encircle the oak-wood counter. To my relief, all the tables are vacant.
Despite the restaurant’s unimpressive look, the scent of stewed lamb is overwhelmingly mouth-watering.
The owner is a middle aged small man with a thick mustache. He scurries toward us, bowing his head slightly. “Little brother!” he addresses Kai, his eyes widening with delight at the sight of me. “I haven’t seen you for a while. How’s the house over the hills? Still in construction?”
“Almost done,” Kai says politely. He’s more concerned with making me comfortable. “May we have a seat?”
“Obliged, little brother, obliged.” Chuckling, the little man leads us to the center table. But I point to the table farthest from the door. “I’d like to sit over there, if you don’t mind.”
“Anywhere you want, pretty Missy,” the man says. “Anywhere you want.”
“What’s your specialty today?” Kai asks the owner, holding my hand and leading me to the table. After I settle down on the wooden bench, he seats himself across from me, putting his guitar case and backpack against the wall.
“Stewed mutton!” the man answers, eyes lingering on me with a familiar nosiness.
Kai gestures for the man to pay attention to him and throws a series of questions to divert the man’s interest from me. Kai’s smoldering eyes stay on me, distracting me more than he intends for the little man.
He stretches his long, strong legs under the table, his knees brushing against mine. Despite layers of clothing between us, his touch forever holds the power to make my heart flutter. As I see the longing returned in his eyes, all I want is to melt in his arms. But we’re in public. I blink to gain some self-control. It’s been only a few minutes since we were alone. Have I become so needy?
“The lamb was slain in the morning—” the man says.
I frown. “I appreciate the information, but I don’t need to know that.”
Kai laughs.
“Little Missy has a soft heart,” says the man.
“She does.” Kai then asks, “Will you be so kind as to bring us a pot of hot tea, Mr. Lao?”
“No need to be so polite with me, little brother. Just call me Lao, as you usually do.” Lao clasps Kai on the shoulder with a phony chuckle. “What brand of tea?”
Kai turns to me. “Would you like jasmine, Xire?”
“Any tea but jasmine,” I say.
“Jasmine is popular for the commoners but not my cup of tea either.” After a chuckle, Lao adapts a pompous tone. “What about Biluochun, Little Missy? Ever heard of it? Biluochun, aka Blue Snail Spring, is the best of green tea.” He touches his mustache. “Tonight is your lucky night. When it comes to tea tasting, you kids can learn a thing or two from me, all for free.”
“If you’re such a tea expert, you should know,” I say coolly, but I’m obviously irritated by his snootiness, “that it’s not Biluochun but Dragon Well that is called ‘the National Drink of China,’ for its most subtle, sublime taste. The legend of a dragon living in the well that produced the most tender tea buds helps pump its popularity as well. But I wouldn’t easily conclude which brand of tea is more superior, for none can really top the other on the same scale of the grade. Zhen Jun, a true tea connoisseur and author of the tea encyclopedia, touted East Mountain Biluochun among green tea, favoring Biluochun’s wavy shape, its rich, floral aroma and smooth nutty taste. But Dragon Well of West Lake still wins more hearts.” Over Lao’s stupefied look, I add with a tone of lazy disdain, “No offense, but it can take years for the average person to reach the tip of the iceberg of Chinese tea culture.”
Lao now looks a bit too impressed with his mouth agape. No sooner have I had my gratification of humiliating him that I suddenly feel like a phony. The truth is I’ve never tasted any of the choicest teas. All my second-hand knowledge is derived from what I’ve read and my photographic memory.
Kai barks out laughter. “Many have made the mistake of underestimating Xirena because of her age.”
“Well, well.” Lao flashes his eyes from side to side between Kai and me. “Indeed! Unfortunately, we don’t have Dragon Well in the house.”
So, Dragon Tavern has nothing to do with anything related to the dragon. But I refrain from making the remark.
“Bring the best Oolong tea you have then,” Kai says. “I do recall you have Tae Guan Yin.”
“Tae Guan Yin, of course, the best Oolong!” Lao pauses, expecting me to form an argument, but he’s gotten it right this time. I’ll point out if the tea’s quality isn’t up to the standard.
Over my blank expression, Lao turns his head toward the kitchen and calls in a shrieking voice. “A pot of top Iron Goddess of Mercy, Mai Tre Ya!”
When there is no response from the kitchen, Lao calls out again, “Old wife?”
“Top quality?” Mai Tre Ya’s voice grunts from the kitchen.
“The very best!” Lao calls and darts into the kitchen.
A few minutes later, he brings an elegant bamboo tray carrying a Jingdezhen ceramic teapot and two Jingdezhen porcelain teacups. A pair of Catalina blue dragons chasing a red sun adorns the pottery.
My eyes widen. The tea set is an authentic hand-formed, kiln fired, and hand-painted Jingdezhen, once prized by the Chinese imperial court. I glue my eyes to the porcelain teapot, studying its shape, texture, paintings, searching my memory bank. Then something clicks. It’s the same set on an art book the Royal Collections that I once browsed through.
“Wasn’t this piece once used by the court of the Ming dynasty?” I ask, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. How can this humble restaurant harbor such valuable antique porcelain? “They went missing during Qing dynasty,” I add.
“Shush!” Lao darts his eyes around fearfully. “Shush!”
“Relax, man. We’re the only ones here,” Kai says. “No need to huff and puff.”
“Is it?” I demand, staring at Lao, paying close attention to his facial movements.
Lao stares at me as if I was some alien species beyond his comprehension, and then he sighs, a look of regret reflecting in his eyes. “It’s been in my family since we immigrated here from the North after the Qing dynasty overthrew Ming Imperial
.”
I realize that he was both testing me, and taking the opportunity to show off his treasure. He didn’t expect that I’d identify the tea set. “Your secret is safe with us,” I say.
“You’re not a common girl,” Lao says.
“I told you not to underestimate her.” Kai’s eyes are all smile, evidently amused and proud.
“My mistake. I’ll make up for it.” With a relieved yet gloating light in his eyes, Lao pours steaming amber-colored tea into my teacup. A golden brown tealeaf tumbles into the cup. Judging only by its shape, I know the man has indeed brought us top quality. To further validate its merit, the first grade Iron Goddess of Mercy sends out a delicious aroma of fresh forest rain mingled with hearty baked grains.
I take a sip of the tea from the porcelain cup.
“How is it? You like it?” Lao is much more enthusiastic to have my reaction than Kai’s.
I’ve never had anything exquisite in my life before I met Kai, but I’m proud of myself for having a natural ability to appreciate fine things. “A surreal taste between earth and heaven,” I say. “Thank you.”
Lao smirks with his mustache twitching. Satisfied, he leaves us temporarily.
Kai shakes his head with a forgiving smile— Lao has completely forgotten to serve him— and pours tea into his cup. He drinks the tea, nods with approval, and puts down the cup. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks.
I glance at the handwritten menu on the wall. Some names of the entrees are obviously misspelled. And with his eyes hot on me, it’s difficult for me to concentrate. “I’ll have whatever you have,” I say with flaming cheeks.
“Let’s have their specialty then. I know this place doesn’t look like much, but the old man’s wife’s cooking is exceptional.” Kai orders us each a bowl of stewed baby lamb with broad northern noodles on the side.
When the man brings the sizzling mutton to the table, my mouth is watering. I dig in immediately. Dining out isn’t that hard, I realize. Actually, it’s a hundred times better than eating at home.
My mother is also an outstanding cook and she knows it, so she established a rule for me—if I want to taste the best dish on the table, I have to ask her permission. She wants to see how long I can last before begging her for a taste of the best meal every day. I’ve never begged.
Before I’m aware, I’m down to the bottom of the bowl.
Kai takes his time to enjoy his meal while watching me. I send him a rueful look, regretting my unladylike table manners.
“I should have fed you earlier,” he asks. “You want more?”
I shake my head slightly, but my longing eyes spell yes.
“What about a stewed free-range chicken for a change?” he asks.
“I want lamb,” I say.
“Anything you want, Xire.” He smiles.
My stomach feels content and no longer torn by hunger.
The aftertaste of Tae Guan Yin is divine. Over my glazing eyes, the dragon on the teacup has caught the burning sun.
CHAPTER NINE
The Hunting
After visiting the red brick house over the hill, I haven’t seen Kai for three days. He has gone hunting and there has been no word from him at all since he left.
I get by the first day fine. The second night, I feel a bit off balance when I gaze at his dark studio. The light from his window has become a comfort to me. On the third day, doubts fog my mind. Did he really go hunting? Did he lie to me?
Everyone lies. Men are better liars than women. I’ve learned plenty about men from the books I’ve read. Biologically, they’re programmed with a need to spread their seeds as wide as possible. Kai is a boy. He can’t help his nature.
So, he gets away from you to spread his seeds?
Despite the sardonic voice, my mind vividly pictures Kai’s secret life. He’s with a prettier and warmer girl, and she’s his age. He’s probably wrapping his arms around her slim waist right now, or kissing her. The kiss he wants from me but can’t get. Maybe he’s even laughing at me with the new girl. Didn’t he place a bet with his friends that he’d never fall for any girl? Now he can prove that he’s conquered me and I’m nothing to him. That thought turns my stomach, and my fingers curl into fists.
I had no life before he came along. I was a frog at the bottom of a well looking at the high sky, dreaming about reaching it. He’s shown me his lovely world, but now he’s going to close the window in my face.
I pace in my room in bare feet but try not to make a sound, for my mother is home. When pacing doesn’t ease my nerves, I sink into a hard chair with my face in my hands. I’d rather never have tasted this delicious life with that boy than have sampled it and then have it taken away from me.
Breathe! a voice says. You gotta learn to trust Kai.
I raise my head from my hands and straighten myself. I’m going to trust him. There is a first time for everything. That is when I hear the rattling sound of a key ring outside Kai’s studio.
He’s back!
My heart surges with joy, and my feet fly me to the window.
I don’t see Kai. A ring of keys hangs in the keyhole. The door is ajar, and the light is on.
I stand beside my window, my heart pumping with the pang of expectation. There is no subtlety in me right now. While I wait for him to open his window and flash me a radiant smile, I stay alert, watching over my shoulder. I’ll only leave the post when my mother comes near.
For half an hour, I just stand there like a beggar in the rain. He doesn’t open the window. He doesn’t even make a sound. Can three days and nights change a person that much?
The light in my eyes dims as every minute drags on, but I’m determined to wait him out. I want to know why he hasn’t contacted me for so long.
The truth pays me right back.
Finally, he moves near the door. Through the small opening of the door, I see a young female’s figure. My heart freezes and then boils between two heartbeats. I blink hard, once, twice, wishing my eyes were playing tricks on me.
The window opens. The girl looks out, a sweet smile hovering on her face. Sha Sha! And she’s wearing the same leather outfit Kai bought for me. I couldn’t bring it home, so I let Kai keep it for me in his studio. And he just generously transferred it to the twin? I can’t believe this!
Sha Sha looks up at my window. I meet her eyes. She waves in triumph. She’s taken him back from me. She’s won, just as she promised she would. Blood drains from my face. Contrary to my gray face, a pink hue adorns her lovely cheeks.
I step back from my window and duck out of her sight. A moment later, I hear the sound of Kai’s window closing, his door locking, and her high-heeled boots retreating. Did she tiptoe to Kai’s studio when she arrived? I didn’t hear her boots clumping on the corridor earlier. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Kai has gotten over his silly obsession with me and returned to the real world with his ideal girl.
“‘I’ll be going away hunting.’” That was what he told me. Hunting, my butt!
Like everyone else, in the end he also treats me like dirt, and in the cruelest way. Other people leave me alone, but he has to play me like his guitar strings before leaving me.
Pain stabs into my stomach like a white-hot blade. I’ve never known this kind of agony existed before. But I have no one to blame but myself. I let my guard down.
You thought being licked by the tip of the fire would add a little wicked fun, a voice says. Is it too much fun for you?
I double over and retch. Nothing comes out but a string of saliva. The only saving grace for tonight is that my mother doesn’t come into my room.
I don’t know for how long I’m out cold on the floor, before fury awakens me. No one slams me this hard and gets away with it. I’m not just colder than a blade; I am the blade.
I’ll hunt you down, Kai. I’ll hurt you back ten times more than you hurt me. You should have prepared before you played me. As I swear like a fiend, a painful realization strikes me—I’m full of venom just li
ke my mother. For years, I’ve gone to great lengths to not take on her mental problems, but in the end, I’m still that vulgar, vicious woman’s daughter. The truth drives me into deeper darkness where darkness is my only light.
I crouch like a wild animal.
But I’m not an animal, and I refuse to have a black soul like my mother.
Let the boy romance any girl he likes, my reason says. And yet, anguish and hate circle me like a ring of fire. Outside the ring, a bad film plays of Kai and Sha Sha cozying up on a picnic blanket under the moonlight. Their laughter is a steady stream of black arrows darting through my heart.
I get up from the floor. I may let a viper bite me once but never twice.
The next day at school, as I descend the stairs from the fourth floor of my classroom building, I hear Ta Sha’s voice from one floor beneath.
“My sister went home earlier today to be with her boyfriend. They’re making up for the time they’ve lost,” Ta Sha’s voice gloats. “Kai told her he’s been trying to avoid some leech-like slut.”
“I can’t believe a fourteen-year-old can be that horny,” one of her minions echoes, “but I’m not that surprised, given her reputation.”
“Kai said that brute is dangerous,” Ta Sha says. “But he knows martial arts. He’ll protect my sister.”
As I come down to the third floor stairs to face the pack, one girl cocks her head at me. “Here comes the slut!”
I halt before them, addressing the girl who called me names, “I should make you eat your own vomit.” Then my icy eyes scan the other faces before me with a distasteful smile. “You lot aren’t just annoying, but shockingly ignorant. In a few years, I’ll be so far away from this dump and so far ahead of you. And you’ll all be stuck here forever.”
The girls gasp.
I turn to Ta Sha. “Tell your sister she can have him. They deserve each other. As for you, only in this stinky hole can you be the princess hen. Enjoy your best times here.”
I march down the rest of the stairs. My mask covers my hollow pain. The girls shout insults after me when they overcome their collective wave of shock, but I’m already out of reach.