by Mingmei Yip
"But Ma, it's just bad luck on my part, you didn't do anything wrong!"
"Xiang Xiang, I understand that you're trying to be kind. But I have to face my mistakes-I shouldn't have listened to Fang Rong. I should have checked her background carefully before I put you into her hands."
"Ma-" I was about to say that this was all in the past, but then I realized it wasn't. My favored guest, Mr. Ouyang, was still waiting for me to come back to his luxurious apartment to warm his bed.
Mother spoke again. "Xiang Xiang, the only thing I can blame is your Karma, something bad you did in a past life that caused your sufferings in this one."
I found this Buddhist idea of past lives quite ridiculous. I didn't even know who I'd been in my past life, so why should I be responsible for my supposed former bad deeds?
Mother cast me a long, meaningful glance. "But Xiang Xiang, there's a way to eliminate your bad Karma."
"How?" I thought of Pearl's similar saying: There was always a way to solve any problem in a turquoise pavilion. But then she'd hanged herself.
"Xiang Xiang," Mother searched me intently, "like me, you can take refuge in the three jewels and be a nun."
Her words exploded in my ears like gunshots. But rather than attaining sudden enlightenment, I struggled to digest this prepos terous suggestion. After I willed myself to calm down, I said mat- ter-of-factly, "But Ma, I am a prostitute."
"Do you like being a prostitute, and prefer to stay one?"
"Of course not, Ma, but I have no choice! "
"Now you have. From now on, let Buddha take care of you."
"But Ma, ten years ago at the train station, I asked you to take me with you, but you said the Mother Abbess feared my beauty would bring bad luck to the temple. You remember that?"
"Yes. But the Mother Abbess hadn't said anything like that. I made it up."
"Why?"
"So that you wouldn't come with me. Because then I didn't want you to be a nun and waste your youth."
"But then why do you want me to be one now?"
"Things have changed, Xiang Xiang. Because although you're still very beautiful, now there's no more bright future waiting for you in the red dust."
I felt so confused that I didn't know what to say.
She spoke again, firmly, "Now that I am the Mother Abbess, you can certainly enter the temple. Xiang Xiang, taking refuge in the sangha is your only future."
I kept staring at my beloved mother now turned a nun and a stranger. Tears pooled in my eyes. Through my blurred vision, my mother seemed to change into a pinch-faced, mean-spirited, stubborn old woman like one imprisoned in a gloomy portrait above the altar of an ancestral hall ...
"Xiang Xiang," her dry voice rose again, "let me ask you again. Do you like being a prostitute?"
Did I like being a prostitute? I opened my mouth, then realized this was an extremely complicated question to answer. Obviously I hated putting on a smiling face and serving those stinking males. I hated the way their eyes threw me licentious glances while their hands wandered to squeeze my breasts and pinch my bottom. I also hated the way they thrust their jade stalk into my golden gate even when I was guarding my yin days. The flopping sound they made when they sucked my tongue and tasted my saliva disgusted me. Even thinking of them now made my stomach churn.
And yet, I'd gotten used to the most delicate foods and the sensuous feeling of elegant silk on my body. Hardly a day went by without a gift from one of my admirers. I slept late every morning and had food brought to me in my room while I practiced the pipa or wrote a poem. I was appreciated for my refinements. But of course, I knew deep down that the reason all these men adored me like a goddess was because they knew I was but a captive, whose limbs could be twisted to adopt the most obsequious posture in life as well as in bed.
Though I'd been fortunate to run into a man like Qing Zhen whom I could love, it had meant giving up all the luxuries that life as a ming ji had brought me. With him I was free but, ironically, only because he could not satisfy my deepest needs as a womanfor a family and children.
I had no idea what a nun's life would be like. Could a lifetime of meditation and sutra chanting really pacify my soul and heal my wounds? Yet, if Mother had obtained the ultimate goal of nonattachment, why had she looked so upset when she'd spotted me in the Water and Land Ceremony? She must have feared that her name might appear in the newspapers' gossip columns and become a laughingstock. Worse, she might even lose all her important clients-those da hufa, big protectors of the Dharma-who donated huge chunks of money to her temple. But it was exactly these protectors of the Buddha Dharma, so judgmental and morally superior while in the temple, who made secret visits to the turquoise pavilions to protect the sexual Dharma.
I stared hard at Mother's pale face. "Ma, why did you stop me from acknowledging you the other day?"
"Hai, Xiang Xiang," she sighed heavily, then wiped a few more tears from her eyes, "I know you'll never forgive me for that. I'm sorry that we had to reunite under such circumstances. But of course, as a nun, I do everything for a reason." She paused, then went on, "Xiang Xiang, in my eyes, prostitute or not, you're my daughter and you'll always be. However, I'm sure you know that if we'd acknowledged each other during the ceremony, the whole temple would have been shocked. Those rich people in the inner hall are extremely selfish. They only sponsor the ceremony to accu mulate merit for themselves. So they'd be horrified to find out not only that the abbess has a daughter, but that she works behind the dark door. Believe me, Xiang Xiang, I wouldn't mind this at all. But as a nun, I am thinking not for myself, but for the well-being of my temple. You understand?"
Of course, I knew exactly what it took to get money from these rich men; I did it myself all the time. My eyes started to fill with tears again. It seemed that, though a nun, Mother was, after all, still living in this secular world, and had not escaped its smoke and dust. After she'd climbed her way to become the abbess of the most influential nunnery in Peking, she was still flopping in the sea of suffering.
"Ma, are you happy being a nun?"
"Xiang Xiang, the first noble truth of Buddhism says: Life is suffering. We don't think of happiness, just enlightenment."
I really did not know what to think about this.
Mother went on, "If we accumulate merit in this incarnation, the next one will be better." She paused to cast me a penetrating look. "Xiang Xiang, I believe good Karma has finally arrived because now you have the chance to become a nun. So please take refuge in my temple. Then we'll be together, always, until the day we enter nirvana."
I remembered ten years ago just as she put me into the hands of Fang Rong, she said something similar: that I was lucky to have a roof over my head. But Mother looked sad, which broke my heart. "Xiang Xiang, although being a nun is not easy, you'll gain merit and be greatly respected. Please, Xiang Xiang, take refuge in the sangha."
I wanted to tell her that, as a ming ji, I was also respected. My poems had been passed around and eagerly read. Peach Blossom's door had been knocked on constantly by people who'd come to beg for my paintings and calligraphy. Some even searched the garbage pails to see if they could find any shreds of my drafts to take home to be glued back together ...
But I said instead, "Ma, I can't predict the future, but now is not the right time for me to consider this."
"Xiang Xiang, now is the only time that you can consider anything."
"But I have to go back to Shanghai to find Big Master Fung."
Mother looked horrified. "Xiang Xiang, what for?"
"Ma, it's said that one does not live under the same sky as his parent's murderer. Now that I know who he is, I'll kill him as soon as I can."
"Xiang Xiang! It's very bad Karma even to think of killing, let alone do it. Do you want to be reborn as a snake, or a rat? If you kill the warlord, do you think you'll be happy? Please meditate with me to clear your mind of such violent thoughts."
"Ma, you know what kept me going all these years selling my ski
n and smile in Peach Blossom? The hope of finding you and revenging Baba! "
"Xiang Xiang, you've found me now." She paused, then went on, "I know you loved your father very much, and so did I. But he's dead, so stop poisoning your mind and let go of revenge. Please take refuge as a nun and stay with me in Pure Lotus."
My mother had become so obstinate that I saw no point in trying to explain any further. To appease her, I said that I wouldn't revenge Baba, but made no promise to become a nun.
She didn't respond. I took her silence as acceptance.
Then suddenly I remembered something and blurted out, "Ma, why didn't you write to me all these years?"
"Xiang Xiang, but I did, almost every week! But then two months after I arrived in Peking, I received a letter from Fang Rong telling me that you'd run away and no one knew where you were. She said you'd left Shanghai."
She reached her hand inside her robe and took out a piece of torn, stained paper. Carefully she handed it to me. "This was your address, right?"
I nodded, tears swelling in my eyes. "Then where have all the letters gone?"
Mother answered my question with another one. "It doesn't matter now, does it?"
32
Back to Shanghai
j other and I had been reunited for only a week when Karma . lonce again thrust us on separate paths. I told her that I had promised Mr. Ouyang that I'd be back soon and could not risk offending him. Mother would continue to meditate on the mountain until she decided it was time for her to go back to Pure Lotus. Now that my first goal-finding my mother-had been fulfilled, I set about accomplishing my second-avenging Baba. Telling Mother that I'd go back temporarily to Ouyang was not a complete lie, for sooner or later I would have to go back to my favored guest, if not to offer my breasts as his pillows and my lips as his delicacies, then at least to bid him farewell.
Instead of saying, "We can't beat fate, but we can play along and make the most out of it. Try to be happy," as she had ten years ago, this time Mother's admonition was simply, "If your Karma is not to be a nun, Xiang Xiang, then you must follow where it leads you. I hope it will be to happiness."
Back in Peking after a tedious train ride, Ouyang didn't come to the apartment to call on me. Since I'd had a death in the family, or so he thought, it would be bad luck for him to see me, especially during Chinese New Year. I wrote him that we should see each other only after the first lunar month. This gave me ample time for making final preparations for my trip to Shanghai. Of course, I took Qing Zhen'sfu, which had protected me on the mountain. But for Peach Blossom, I brought another kind of fu-Ouyang's calligraphy. I sewed a brocade case so that the scroll would travel with the dignity it deserved. To Mama and De, the name of a powerful official would be far more magical than a Taoist charm.
To be sure I would be left alone during the long train trip, I booked a private compartment. When the train finally arrived at North Station in Shanghai, I alighted, quickly hired a car, and asked the driver to take me to the Cathy Hotel in the International Settlement. This elegant and expensive hotel was a popular place for rich guests to take courtesans. It was now a perfect match for my prestige, and would impress anyone whom I might run into from Peach Blossom. Now that I had money in my pocket and an aura of elegance and wealth emanating from me, I was sure the wind would be blowing in my direction.
For the first few days after I arrived, I did nothing but eat and rest. Dressed in my expensive gowns or sexy Western dresses, I'd glide down the black marble staircase, stroll through the hotel lobby to appreciate its gleaming pillars and mahogany furniture, then ride the elevator to the hyacinth-scented rooftop restaurant for high tea. After sensuously settling my bottom onto the gilded chair, I'd imagine myself a princess waiting for my prince-the tuxedoed, white-gloved, young and polished waiter-to come and take my order. While sipping tea thick with milk and sweetened with sugar, I'd stare at the glittering chandeliers, then the oil paintings on the wall. My mind, enthralled by the mysterious images, bold brush strokes, and rich, vibrant colors, would fly to exotic places I'd seen only in my dreams.
After I finished appreciating the beautiful, my thoughts would turn to the ugly-revenge. My mind would flip and flop, considering different plans. Should I use a knife or a gun? Should I get some poison or hire a professional? Or should I rent a car to hit and run? Then I'd look around at the other diners and wonder: Would this gray-haired, distinguished foreign gentleman at the next table ever imagine within his elegant neighbor's delicate mind blood was now splashing? Would the attentive waiter guess his dainty client was about to go on a shooting spree? I almost laughed out loud, while my eyes sent mischievous glances like imaginary bullets around the elegant hall.
However, sometimes my euphoria would deflate. What if I failed to kill Fung and instead got killed? Or what if I did kill him but failed to get away? I had no illusion that I'd be shown any mercy by the law. Yet I was resolved: If I was captured, I'd die fulfilled. I had endured being a prostitute only to find my mother and avenge my father. So when I'd achieved these, I would never put my feet inside any turquoise pavilion again. But what would come next?
I started to make small talk to the waiter, anything from the weather to business to comments on the old barbarian customers. I also tipped him four times more than necessary. The result was exactly what I'd wanted-I was treated like royalty.
Besides eating and sleeping, I'd also hire a car to take me along the bustling Nanking Road, where I'd stroll, window-shop, and watch people wearing the latest fashions, greeting each other with lucky sayings, and setting off firecrackers to welcome the Lunar New Year. I wanted to enjoy cheerful things before I'd plunge into ugly, bloody murder.
One day during my stroll, I stopped to appreciate the goods behind the windows of an antique shop. My eyes were examining the delicate vases, black ink stones, carved rhinoceros horns, and other precious objects, when I spotted something that made me gasp. Lying inconspicuously in a corner of the display were a diamond ring and a jade bracelet. In a flash I recognized Pearl's gifts, which had been lost with her qin! A wave of dizziness hit me. Some bandits must have found them in the qin and sold them-yet I'd lost the qin near Peking, not here in Shanghai.
I grasped the handle of the shop's door and steadied myself for a moment, then marched in. A middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a ruddy face hurried up to greet me.
"Miss, anything you have chosen from our shop window?"
I pointed to the two pieces of jewelry.
He invited me to sit, then went to the window and, with the ut most care, took the jewels and placed them on a felt square on the counter. "Madame, you have excellent eyes, these two pieces are of the finest quality." He picked up the diamond ring and shifted it under the sunlight slanting in through the window. The solitaire stone scattered many rainbows, as if desperately trying to tell me its adventures on the mountain. Next he took the bracelet and tilted it high to reflect the sun so I could see the jade's flawless translucency. Then he slipped the ring onto my finger and the bracelet onto my wrist. The diamond's sparkles seemed to almost blind my eyes while the jade felt cool on my skin. Caressing the stone's sensuous surface, I could almost feel Pearl's spirit shivering in its fathomless green.
Tears pooled in my eyes and I blinked them back. I looked up at Ruddy Face. "How much?"
The man clicked his pudgy fingers on the abacus, then turned to me and smiled. "Madame, since it's still Chinese New Year and you're our first customer today, I'll give you a special discountthirty gold banknotes."
"I'll take them." I knew the price was excessive but I didn't bargain because I wanted this as a gesture of honor to Pearl.
While writing the receipt, Ruddy Face stole me a few appreciative glances.
I took out the money and casually asked, "Do you happen to know the person who sold these pieces to you?"
He looked up from his reading glasses. "We acquire most of our fine jewelry from some of Shanghai's best families. However, sometimes we'
ll also have people who just drop in and sell, such as the owner of these two pieces. But madame, it's our policy not to reveal any sellers' identity. I apologize I cannot tell you who owned them."
Of course, he must have known perfectly well that he'd bought them from bandits but was certainly not about to admit it. Bandits often sold what they stole in a province far from their crime so they'd be less likely to be caught.
"That's all right." I smiled. "Are there other pieces that came with them?"
"No. But madame," his face glowed, "if you want more, we have other-"
I waved a dismissive hand. "I'm very happy with what I've got."
I paid, thanked him, and was about to leave when my stomach was ambushed by pangs. I turned to ask Ruddy Face, "Do you mind if I use your washroom?"
"Of course not, madame," he said, then showed me to the back of the store.
It turned out that it was not nature's emergency call. I was just overwhelmed by emotion. I studied my shocked face in the mirror, then took several deep breaths to calm myself. Soap and towels were set out on a board behind the broad sink. As I reached for the soap, I spotted something unexpected-shiny lacquer. My heart began to pound. I pushed aside the soap, the pile of towels, and a roll of toilet paper, then lifted up the "washing board."