by null
At the door she paused briefly. “Ah-Jin is the mother of reason unless you anger her—then she is the mother of fury.” A smile touched the luster of the pipe-maker’s eyes. “But you have nothing to fear. I will guide you gently and fairly; it will not take long to prove your worth. If you are obedient and deserving of her judgment and her trust, she will receive you kindly and your initiation will begin. If you are not”—she gave the slightest shrug—“then that will be a pity. Meanwhile, do not leave this room unless I accompany you.”
The smile in her eyes seemed to deepen. “Sleep well; think only pleasant things. It is a great honor to be chosen by the Golden One.”
The door was quietly closed, and Siu-Sing ate hungrily from a bowl of tasty noodles and flavored shreds of tender chicken kept warm in the bamboo steamers. She drank deeply from the pot of tea the pipe-maker had said would calm her and help her sleep. Dazed by her sudden change of fortune, she was soon lost among the wonders of her first bathtub, a mound of radiant bubbles at her fingertip’s command.
She slept soundly until late the following morning. By the afternoon, Siu-Sing was eager to explore this place and learn what was expected of her.
Ruby brought a folded gown of lilac silk, along with two crystal flasks and two tiny, thimble-size cups beside a bamboo whisk on a lacquered tray. With a practiced flourish, she held the first flask high and allowed an exact measure of its golden liquid to half fill each cup. From the second flask, she added to the cups drop by drop, then whisked the contents with greatest care.
“This is the rarest of all tonics,” she said, “once brewed only for emperors… . We call it Buddha Jumps Over the Fence. It is made from the buds of the wild Lohan tea bush found only in the mountains of Mongolia, sweetened by the nectar of persimmon, mixed with a single tear of the poppy. It is a potion known only to the mama-san to set the senses free.”
Steadily, cradling one of the fragile cups in the fingertips of both hands, she handed it to Siu-Sing as though it were a droplet of pure gold. “Soon you will be expected to speak with Ah-Jin. Already I see in you many of the qualities required of a Silver Sister, so my judgment will be in your favor; but there are things locked in our hearts that should be freed. This will prepare you.”
Ruby drained her cup with a single swallow, watching closely as Siu-Sing did the same. The liquor was sweet to the tongue, soothing her throat, its passage pleasantly warm until it blossomed in her belly, bringing a flush to her cheeks.
The pipe-maker watched closely for seconds more. Satisfied, she set the tray aside and presented the silk gown with both hands. “You are of mixed race, so the silk is from China, the design foreign. It is chosen for the color of your eyes and has only one purpose … to make you feel as beautiful as you look.”
In a gesture of encouragement, she held up her arms to show the flowing drifts of her own garment. “I am from India; this garment I wear is called a sari, and my chosen gem is the ruby, the symbol of passionate love. Once you are accepted, there will be many splendid things for you to wear. The Silver Sisters are from many lands and wear the clothing of their homelands with pride. There is a seamstress of great skill who will come to fit you for all that you will need, and a doctor to see that you are well and vigorous. The Golden One takes great care of those who belong to her … no mother was ever more gracious.” She draped the silken gown over Siu-Sing’s arm. “Come, you must try it on. I will help you.”
At Siu-Sing’s slight hesitation, Ruby said gently, “You must never be ashamed to undress before me or any other in this house. It is an insult to the arts of pleasure that are taught and practiced here. To be proud of your body is of first importance. It is my duty to help prepare you.” The pipe-maker’s tone lifted to one of gentle teasing. “Now, let us see and feel the clay we have to work with in the making of a Silver Sister.”
Siu-Sing allowed Ruby to remove the cotton shift; the pipe-maker tossed it aside and stepped back to see her better. The last trace of timidity was discarded with the nightgown.
“I see you are definitely not Chinese,” Ruby said, her fingers reaching without warning to lightly touch the tangle of hair beginning to gather between Sing’s legs.
“Like me, you are thicker and curlier.” Ruby stifled a giggle. “There is only one Chinese among the Sisters. Her name is Jade, and the hair is flat and silky as a mouse’s back.” Ruby stepped suddenly to the upright object in the corner, stripping away the black silk veil to uncover a full-length oval mirror in a frame of gilded flowers. “I have not looked into the mirror for a long time,” Ruby breathed. “Mirrors are meant to present the young and the beautiful, not to record the passing of time or a face forbidden the gift of joy.”
Adjusting the polished surface to reflect Sing’s full height, the pipe-maker said wistfully, “See how its magic comes alive again because of you.” It was the first time Sing had seen herself in this way, and it caused the heat in her to prickle the skin. Backlit by the sun and distorted by ripples, her mirrored image in the shallows of the lake and in the Place of Clear Water had showed nothing of her body and little of her face. There had been no mirrors in the kitchens of the House of Fan. She had wondered what she truly looked like.
Her skin was palest bronze, chestnut hair loose upon her shoulders. Her light eyes were made brighter by thick dark lashes and slender brows. Her neck was long, her shoulders wide and strongly set. She felt the blood warm her cheeks at the sight of her breasts, the nipples tingling as though physically touched under her own gaze. In a trance, she watched Ruby’s long, rose-tipped fingers gently stroking the slight flare of her hips, urging her to turn herself to look at the flowing lines of her back, the strong swell of her buttocks. Siu-Sing stood transfixed as Ruby grasped her narrow waist, turning her to again confront the mirror. “See how very beautiful you are.” The slender fingers shifted lightly to her breast, the nipple tightening at the touch of a fingernail. Siu-Sing caught her breath as it circled, deliberately teasing. The pleasure was so new to her she gasped in disbelief.
“We can discover the mirror’s secrets, you and I. Do you trust me, Siu-Sing, to explore them with you?”
Siu-Sing’s nod was shy but eager. Ruby lowered her head, her tongue seeking the tender bud pressed between her fingers. Siu-Sing felt as if her body and her spirit were separated—each watching the other with curiosity and a sweet impatience. “See how ready you are for such adventures? But be patient; passion is a gift worth waiting for, to be given and received in equal measure.”
Ruby’s face was so close that for the first time Sing was aware of two identical scars, faded but faintly discernible through the gossamer gauze. Finely drawn across her cheeks, they reached from the corner of each eye to the mouth.
The pipe-maker turned quickly aside. “Do not look too closely. I am one without a smile.” She lifted the corner of the veil, allowing herself to try, but the skin of her cheeks crinkled like withered fruit. “You see, it has been taken from me, so do not seek my smile. I have found contentment without it.”
Siu-Sing felt a moment’s sorrow for Ruby. “You do not need to smile to be beautiful. I have seen the heavens reflected on the surface of a great lake. I see the same kind of beauty in your eyes.”
Ruby’s mouth was wide and generous, her narrow, high-bridged nose finely shaped, her full lips unpainted, parted slightly to reveal her even teeth. She responded in a whisper, her breath sweet and warm. “I think my little sister is wise beyond her years in many things, yet innocent as the youngest child in others.”
An inch or two shorter than Siu-Sing, she tilted her head slightly as though on impulse, lightly kissing Sing’s brow, the tip of her nose, her cheek, her closed eyelids … the warm hollow of her throat. There it lingered before seeking her open mouth with a softly probing tongue.
Siu-Sing’s senses reeled, the urge to yield so strong it fascinated her. Suddenly, Ruby turned Sing toward the mirror again as her slim dark hands moved lightly down to her hips and belly. Siu-Sing stood en
thralled by the reflections that swam before her as dizzily as in a dream, Ruby’s voice no more than a warm breath at her ear.
“I think you have not been touched before by man or woman. This is good; the caresses of a patient woman will prepare you well for the clumsiness and haste of a selfish man.” As she spoke, the fingers teased the tuft of curling hair, sliding suddenly deeper to find the slippery bud. Siu-Sing’s reaction almost caused her to pull away, her hands grasping Ruby’s wrist.
“You are very strong, but do you really want me to stop?” The pipe-maker’s whisper was teasing. “We call it the bud of the peony. It is the fountainhead of ecstasy. A word you have not heard before, I think.”
The clever fingers increased their gentle friction until Siu-Sing’s body began to melt from within. Sensation spread from her burning cheeks to her toes in a surge that made her shudder with a cry of exquisite relief.
She would have fallen if Ruby had not held her close, cooing her contentment. “Sssshhhhh, my little one, sssshhhhh, how quickly and how sweetly you respond, how ready you are to learn.”
Overwhelmed by her reeling senses, Sing turned to Ruby in gratitude and wonder. “May I see you beside me in the mirror?” she asked in a whisper so husky she barely recognized it as her own. “May I not see you as you see me? Is it possible that I may give as well as receive such magic?”
“Perhaps, when we are truly sisters … then nothing will be hidden between us. But there are many things that must wait.”
Days passed, each night shared with Ruby, the tiny cups of nectar banishing all inhibitions as Siu-Sing’s curiosity and desire grew stronger with each new interlude. Ruby came to her in darkness, lithe and strong; their arms and legs entwined, hands and lips exploring each other in whispered secrecy. Siu-Sing admitted her innocence willingly, eager to satisfy anything that Ruby might ask of her, impatient to know that which still lay hidden. Ruby would not reveal her own nudity, as though to do this would reach a climax best delayed. She did answer one question readily enough, when Sing hesitantly asked if such pleasures were not forbidden to them.
“Oh, no,” Ruby replied with great sincerity. “It is my duty to teach you these things. It is for me to decide your readiness for the pleasures of the heart and the body. My report to Gracious Mother will decide your standing in our little world.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “In my humble opinion, you will become a goddess of love.”
She fetched from the painted wardrobe a bottle of wine-colored oil. “Pure oil of roses,” she said, bidding Sing to lie down. “Now I must show you the ways of the Indian massage. It is something you must understand well.” She giggled, a bubbling little laugh in an unguarded moment. “No tiger roars, no dragon rises that cannot be tamed by rose-petal hands.”
On the eighth day at midmorning, Ruby escorted Siu-Sing to a shaded pavilion in a secluded part of the grounds. Reached by the graceful curve of a scarlet bridge, it stood in the middle of a splendid water garden arched by miniature willows.
The lilac robe suited her well, reflecting the elusive tints of her eyes, splendidly cool against her freshly bathed skin. She felt poised and confident as Ruby left her framed in the entry to the pavilion, stepping forward to bow before the Golden One. “I have the honor to present the new pipe-maker, Mama-san. She has satisfied all that is expected of her in every way.”
Ruby stepped aside, allowing Sing to stand alone. She could see that the pavilion was lined with books and scrolls, tables arranged along its eight sides in the shape of the sacred trigrams of Pa-kua, each holding ink blocks, sheaves of paper, and brushes. Beautiful sculptures of erotic figures stood in each corner.
The Golden One rested on a cushioned seat surrounding a central table. Set upon it was a large and beautifully bound book, and beside it a platter filled with perfect golden persimmons. She wore a kimono of softest orange, the color, Sing instantly reflected, of dawn across the lake. Her hair was dressed in the style of a geisha, combed and curled in wings of gleaming black, held in place by nodding golden trinkets.
“Welcome to the Reading Book Pavilion, Siu-Sing. Ruby tells me you are well rested and at your ease in these new surroundings. I am pleased that she speaks so highly of you. My judgment is rarely misplaced.”
“She has been most patient and kind to me, Mama-san.”
The Golden One hid a smile behind the fluttering arc of the black lacquered fan. “The robe she has chosen suits you well … take it off and let me see you as she has seen you.”
The silk slid from Sing’s shoulders to puddle at her feet. Since visiting the mirror with Ruby’s guiding hands, she had embraced nudity as naturally as she had in the Place of Clear Water.
“You say your age is thirteen years; you look older but in all the right ways. Ruby tells me you do not shrink from the touch of a woman, that the nectar of the persimmon is agreeable to you.” She gestured for Siu-Sing to replace the robe and take a seat opposite her at the table. “I am told you are untouched by man or boy … yet you are familiar with the masculine anatomy. How is this so?”
“I was taught the ways of hedgerow healing and of the Empty Hand by a master of the Tao. My knowledge is no more than what is shown on ancient charts, but I understand that which will please him and that which will kill him.”
The Golden One smiled at the comparison, nodding her approval. “From this day, you will join the Silver Sisters and learn the arts of the courtesan and the skills of an apprentice pipe-maker. I have decided that your name will be Topaz, the jewel sought after by kings and chieftains for its forbidden properties. You will obey my wishes and the wishes of your elder sisters at all times. Punishment is rare in my house, but when it is deserved, then it is severe.”
She poured pale amber tea into small translucent cups. “I have paid a high price for you, Topaz, because I wish to please a taipan of great importance to me. He has an eye for the rarest of gems, yet has rejected each of those I have placed before him. You are like no other; perhaps he will choose you at the end of your year of apprenticeship. If he does, I will be handsomely rewarded, and your future could be one of great wealth and prospects of power. But this will be up to you. I can teach you the secrets of your body, even some secrets of the mind. Only you can command your heart, and only your heart can decide your destiny.”
She paused, her honeyed eyes intent upon Siu-Sing as she lifted her cup. “You will eat well but carefully. If a doctor is needed, I will provide one. I can see you are no stranger to exercise and you may pursue this at your leisure. All I ask is that you listen and learn. Always remember that I have purchased you; you belong to me and to this house until your future is decided. Do you understand this?”
Siu-Sing replied instantly, bowing her appreciation. “I am most fortunate to be chosen, Gracious Mother. I will do all I can to earn your trust and deserve your kindness.” In her heart, Sing knew this was the beginning of deception. From this moment she would be two separate people: Topaz, who would become the perfect Silver Sister, and Siu-Sing, the warrior, daughter of a brave and noble Chinese mother, who would one day stand before her famous father.
Tamiko-san carefully selected a ripe persimmon. The golden orb rested lightly in the palm of her hand, her glittering fingernails forming a cage around its perfection. “See how luscious it is,” she murmured thoughtfully. “I import them from Japan. Did you know that the Chinese persimmon is slightly inferior to that of the Japanese? And that those grown in America ripen too quickly and are too soft?” She tossed the fruit lightly, as though judging its weight. “It is hand picked and properly packed for me by an expert who knows just how well and how far the fruit will travel, just how long the flesh will remain firm, fresh, and sweet.” She laughed. “Of course, such perfection takes the most careful of handling by the finest of experts to command the highest prices.”
Suddenly, she tossed the fruit high in the air, flicking wide the black fan in a graceful swoop with the sound of a striking snake. The persimmon fell to the floor, sliced neatl
y in two, its syrupy nectar seeping slowly across polished flagstones. “See how in the blink of an eye this gorgeous, carefully nurtured fruit is worthless, its long journey wasted, of no more value to me than a withered flower. It will be cast aside, trodden underfoot, and left to rot untasted.”
Tamiko-san’s golden eyes were steady as a cat’s, the gold-tipped fingers reaching to caress Sing’s forearm lightly as a crawling insect. “One thing above all others: While you are beneath this roof you will know no man but the one you are chosen to attend. You will not leave this house unescorted or without my permission. Everything you need is here.”
She gestured to the crowded bookshelves. “All of this has been collected over many lifetimes, and is the work of wise and adventurous minds and of gifted artists, both good and evil. Yet they deal only with lust. You will find little in these thousand times ten thousand pages about love.”
Tamiko-san rose to leave the pavilion, the golden ornaments in her hair shivering with the slightest turn of her head. “Love is a luxury few can afford, Topaz; it will not put rice in your belly or clothes on your back. Lust, though, is legal currency in all languages, in all places, and at all times. It will feed and clothe you like an empress, and I will teach you to spend it wisely.”
The mama-san walked across the bridge, opening a parasol of the same softly glowing silk as her kimono. “But first, I will introduce you to someone you will find of great interest …” She smiled mysteriously, beckoning with the closed fan for Siu-Sing to follow. “One man you may become acquainted with and will never forget.
“Men are often very stupid in matters of the bedroom. They believe that a woman is no more than a plaything, an expensive toy to be enjoyed whenever the fancy takes them. Most of those that come here have wives and concubines of their own … often too many, yet never enough. They will take a mistress and find her a fine home, buy her whatever she asks him for … then throw her out to make room for one that is younger and prettier. Such is the way of the taipan if we allow it.” She laughed, a little ruefully, it seemed to Sing. “It is such stupidity that has made me rich and given me power. If you are as clever and as careful as I believe you to be, such a man will also make you rich and give you power.”