by Lydia Kwa
On that evening, the cicadas were particularly loud. Xie stood in the middle courtyard, facing the mural in the large hall, lit up with hanging lanterns. He watched the writhing figures of his guests entangled with one another.
“Master Xie, why won’t you come join us?” cried out one of the women.
He laughed. “Not yet. I’m waiting for some people to arrive.”
Soon after the drums had sounded the Hour of the Dog, he heard the echo of the secret knock from the side entrance.
Three men in dark trousers and tunics entered, their faces concealed by large bamboo hats. They followed him along a series of corridors to a room in the northern part of the mansion, far away from the orgy.
They removed their hats and bowed to Xie.
“Where is it?”
The senior man clasped his hands together in front of his face. “Master, we were overcome by a powerful asphyxiating mist when we entered Hsu the Elder’s school.”
“You dare return without the oracle bone?” He slapped the man, who went flying sideways across the room.
“Tell me everything!” Xie roared.
The two other spies fell to their knees and kowtowed frantically, hitting their foreheads on the stone floor to show their need for the master’s forgiveness. The senior spy crawled on his knees to join the other two, his lower lip bleeding.
“When we reached the school,” the senior man said, “a freakish golden smoke rolled out past the open doors of the entrance. It … made the air around our bodies so damp we didn’t know what was happening. Our skin felt like it was being stung by a thousand bees. We couldn’t breathe. We all got very dizzy.”
Another spy added, “We stumbled through this smoke and crossed the courtyard into the main hall. Hsu the Elder was slumped over in his chair, and every one of his students was either slouched forward or lying down on the ground, dazed. We threw water on Hsu’s face, but he was barely able to tell us where the vault was. The vault door was open without any signs of forced entry. There were jewels inside. Jade pieces. Some gold. An opened mahogany box with a yellow velvet-lined interior. But no oracle bone.” The spy hung his head low, looking ashamed.
Xie frowned. “None of the other precious objects were taken?”
“No, Master.”
“Did you search for clues in town?”
“We asked around, but no one could tell us anything.”
One of the other spies piped up. “The owner of Prosperity Tavern said there were a few odd occurrences at the auction that same afternoon …”
Xie had believed these men to be the best, yet here they were offering him irrelevant tidbits. This should have been straightforward. He dismissed the spies and returned to the middle courtyard, but his mood was ruined. He sneered at the pile of inebriated bodies in the hall. Leaving them, he entered a corridor that took him to the very back of his mansion, where he unlocked the doors to his private study. No one else was allowed here.
Xie shut all the outer windows, making sure none of the servants could look in. Sitting down on the edge of his daybed, he bent forward, whispering as if to himself. “I’m still, still not …”
You promised me. Don’t be silly.
Xie gasped, feeling his throat tighten. He shuddered violently.
I don’t like how you have these episodes. Relapsing to your former self.
Xie struggled up from the daybed and stood in the middle of the room. He wrapped his arms around his torso and began to spin until he dissolved into a whirlwind. A funnel of mist escaped from the top of his head. Xie’s form collapsed to the floor, a hollow shell.
Bluish-white and hazy at first, the demon streamed out with a low hiss, showing its true form as it landed on all fours on the floor. It was fearsome, yet its form was not solid. It was a contradiction, both menacing and insubstantial.
The demon crouched low, its gangly limbs shivering as it shook its large head, riddled with bony, black protuberances. Its mouth emitted a constant smoky hiss of air and left a film of dew on whatever it encountered. The demon’s ears were large, awkward peach-coloured flaps that could lay flat against its head or perk up straight. Its front limbs ended in long, scythe-like claws, and its back limbs bore cleft-shaped hooves. The demon’s eyes were cavernous absences from which orbs of bluish-green light occasionally glowed.
The world is dirt, it whispered to the air as it scurried around the room caressing the legs of chairs and furniture with its front claws, and making rasping sounds as it searched the shadows. It took comfort in being outside of Xie’s body. The man still had a few stubborn episodes, resisting his progressive transformation.
The demon hissed. Only the oracle bone would catapult its transformation to the ultimate and irreversible state. These past few years, disguised as Xie, it got close to the Empress, winning her confidence and learning the whereabouts of the oracle bone from his informants—all that had been rather simple if tedious. But acquiring the bone was supposed to have been straightforward as well. Who was the culprit who had beaten the spies to it? What was to be done? How would it find the bone?
The demon had needed time to fulfill its wishes. There, at that abandoned and ruined temple, it had suffered for eons, waiting and waiting to attract the human who would accept the bargain. In the meantime, it had performed acts of mischief by roaming far and wide in its invisible state, whispering unsettling thoughts into the ears of humans, tempting them to darkness. But those interferences afforded a small measure of satisfaction compared to having found the human who’d agreed to a full possession.
It mustn’t lose sight of its ultimate mission. Now that it had the use of Xie’s body, it would succeed eventually. With time and the progressive infusion of potions, it would gain complete power of this human’s body and turn it into something far more powerful than each of them would be on its own. The transformation might take a few more years, but what was that compared to the length of time it had already been waiting?
I almost had it, the demon growled. Vexed, it crept back into the centre of the room and once again became a hazy vortex that re-entered Xie’s shell through the top.
Xie came to very slowly and shook his head, covering his ears with his hands. He heard a loud humming that was almost deafening, and shivered as the cold wind inside his body surged through all his cells. Xie blinked several times then sneezed loudly, not once but four times in quick succession. He pulled out his handkerchief and blew into it, then looked at the border, where it was embroidered. Such a fine piece of handiwork. He sighed as a memory arose, unbidden. He heard a faint whirring in his brain, as if some wheel-like contraption was set into motion. There you go again, being nostalgic for your past life.
The muscles in his chest tightened and he felt a touch of queasiness. Xie went to the large dark rosewood cabinet in the far corner and opened its doors. He pulled out a leather pouch and, reaching into it, broke off a chunk of the resinous material; using tongs, he passed it over the candle flame until it smoked. Then he dropped it into the palm-shaped bronze vessel on the table behind him. He sat down and waved the smoke toward his face, inhaling deeply.
He sniffled and blew his nose again on the handkerchief. The demon complained, Why do you still fall prey to old habits? Sentiment does not befit a vessel of mine. Xie felt tremors throughout his body, compelling him to take action. He rose from his chair, pulled a knife from a drawer, and shredded the handkerchief. Xie felt a sudden wave of sadness. A tear streamed out of his left eye.
Your human heart is a troublesome beast.
A muscle along his upper right cheek started to twitch. Xie took a few more deep breaths of the smoke. How long would it take before all traces of his memories and his love for others were eliminated? He didn’t mind forgetting many things, but there was one person he especially didn’t want to forget.
Of course he’d been desperate to save her.
He had trusted the scholar, whom he’d mistakenly regarded as a friend. “There’s an enchanted place,”
the scholar had disclosed. “Go there, for only that kind of power will save her. Just be prepared to sacrifice, for this will cost you.”
Xie rode off in the direction of the temple. By the time he arrived, it was dusk. Curious, he thought, hadn’t it been only late morning just moments ago? What had happened to the usual progression of time?
It was Feast of All Souls, the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month. He had expected the temple to be busy, but it was instead shrouded in a sullen darkness. He dismounted from his horse, recalling the scholar’s instructions to do so, and walked along the path leading up to the temple entrance. The path was at first barely visible, obscured by thick, gnarled creepers, but these gave way as he headed toward the temple.
“To the Demon God of Literature” read the dusty, cobwebbed sign atop the entrance. Xie stepped through the threshold into the cavernous space. Light from the full moon streamed into the hall. A low murmuring reverberated through the temple, followed by a wind that stirred the cobwebs and tickled Xie’s right ear.
I’ve been waiting for you.
The voice sounded disconcertingly like his, except that it possessed a jagged edge, like a knife that could sever bone in an instant. The strength drained out of Xie’s legs, and he fell to his knees. He couldn’t budge. He wished he could flee. As soon as he thought it, the moaning wind in the temple roared, You cannot escape me.
The teeth in Xie’s mouth began to chatter loudly. He folded his arms in front of his body and gripped his elbows.
Chilling, aren’t I?
“Wh … who are you?” Xie stammered, asking the question with what little energy he could muster. He felt a force descend onto him and push him down until the side of his face smacked the stone floor.
I am Gui.
“What, what do you want from me?” sputtered Xie, as he curled up into himself, feeling the force hold him down.
Your allegiance. Henceforth, my voice will be your voice. I’ll spare your daughter on one condition. Let me fully inhabit you and alter you. You won’t complain if I make you very famous and powerful, surely?
“What do you mean, inhabit me?”
Your family will not recognize you any longer.
He winced. How could he do such a thing? And yet, how could he live on if his daughter died from her illness? Sweat formed at his brow, and he felt a chill travel down his spine. “You say this will save her life?”
I never lie. And you will become very powerful.
Xie swallowed hard and nodded.
Was that a nod of assent?
Xie’s heart raced with fear and urgency. His life was at stake. But his daughter lay dying. He couldn’t ignore this chance to save her. He nodded again, very slowly, deliberately.
A blue shadow rose up in front of him. Then he felt a piercing sensation at the crown of his head, as if he were being split apart from the top down. He screamed as an indescribable pain shot through his body.
Xie lifted his head from the table, returning from the recollection. The resin had completely burned down, and the sweet haze hung in the air, continuing to cast its effect on him.
In the distance, the bell from the eastern tower sounded, and there were cries from the alleys outside the mansion, announcing the time. Already the fourth watch.
He left the room and returned to the middle hall. Everyone slept or lay in a drunken stupor. He surveyed the bodies. A prostitute’s face was momentarily lit by the flickering flame above her. She has such a sweet, serene face, he thought. It reminded him of someone. His jade stalk stirred. He closed his eyes and dug his fingernails into his trembling thighs.
OUTSIDE THE FOREST OF ILLUSIONS
Still cool out, and not even dawn yet. Ling rubbed her eyes and saw Qilan smiling down at her. “Time to get up, we’re heading out soon.”
Like Qilan and Old Chen had done, Ling wrapped a scarf around her face so that her nose and mouth were covered.
Qilan set a fast pace now. The route took them through a landscape of dry, wide regions, the low hills in the distance pockmarked with cave dwellings.
They approached Chang’an, their clothes covered with a layer of red dust, as the sun was just rising above the horizon. In the distance, the city of terracotta walls loomed. There were travellers ahead of them—carriages and caravans, as well as those riding horses or donkeys. As they drew nearer to the large Chunming Gate, Ling could see the burly guards questioning incoming travellers before allowing them to pass.
They entered the city and rode along the main east-west thoroughfare. Qilan said, “They say that this is the largest city in the world.”
Ling had never encountered anything like this. Chang’an was unlike Jingzhou city, close to her parent’s tea farm. Here the city walls were so tall that they cast long shadows. Heat emanated not only from the sun overhead but from bodies both human and animal, jostling for space on the wide avenue. Such noise! So many colours! Different kinds of faces: men with turbans and thick beards, women in bright, flowing robes wrapped around their bodies, and unfamiliar fair-skinned people who rode in caravans. Large buildings lined the main thoroughfare, some with signs she could read. They passed many places of worship that looked grand and overwhelming, like beasts that were dormant but might rouse given the right encouragement.
They continued to ride along the thoroughfare, passing through gates in the high walls that separated one ward from the next. Soon they entered the Western Sector and passed by a large market, noisy with thronging crowds. They turned into side streets, travelling at a more relaxed pace. Here were narrower wooden buildings, most of them two storeys high. Many front doors stood open, and children and elderly folk milled about in the alleys. A sprinkling of ground-floor shops sold wares or offered cooked food. A strong whiff of fried spices followed by a trace of sweet tobacco smoke made Ling sneeze. There were clean, earthy smells as hot water evaporated from just-washed cobblestones, in contrast to the rank odours of stray dogs.
When they turned into a deserted alley, Qilan angled her body back to speak to Ling. “Do you know who now reigns on the Throne?”
“Emperor Li Zhi.”
“He has been ill. His Empress rules in his stead.”
Old Chen snickered. Qilan continued, “The Emperor was never a strong man, from his youth. He has made it worse for himself by indulging in vices. His current Empress is one of his greatest vices.”
“What are vices?”
“Things people do to waste their vital essence.”
“Why would people do that?”
“Because we’re stupid. That’s why,” piped in Old Chen.
Ling stared at Qilan. “Do you have …”
“Of course.”
“Like …”
“Most of my vices are invisible to others.”
“Like?”
“If I told you, they wouldn’t remain invisible.” Qilan winked at Ling.
Ling blushed and felt awkward. “Where does the new Empress live?” she asked to change the subject.
“North of the city. Right at the very edge, outside the northernmost wall. The Imperial Palace Taijigong is its own walled city.”
“Have you … seen her?”
“No. Our Abbess has, though. I hear that she is quite beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” Ling whispered, leaning forward against Qilan’s back.
“Girl,” Old Chen mumbled, “stay away from that murderous vixen. She killed the Emperor’s former empress and concubine after having them viciously tortured.”
“Shhh!” admonished Qilan.
Ling recalled Old Chen’s story. She wondered where Qilan’s father lived. Was he also at Taijigong?
At the end of the alley, they turned right onto a wide street with a few residences between rows of shops. In the middle section of this long street, on their right, was a large compound fenced in by low walls of unfired bricks. Inside, partially visible above the walls, was a square structure with a domed roof.
Qilan and Old Chen dismo
unted and helped Ling off the horse.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a fire temple,” replied Old Chen.
Ling followed Old Chen and Qilan as they led the horses to the compound across from the fire temple. The compound was ringed by walls made of slatted wood. She looked up at the large sign above the entrance. Da Fa Temple .
The doors at the entrance were open, which afforded a view of the beautiful garden inside. Ling’s attention was quickly drawn to the formidable temple guardians on either side of the entrance—larger-than-life wooden figures that resembled neither human nor beast, one with its mouth wide open, and the other with mouth closed.
Old Chen led both horses around to the back, where the stables were. Qilan and Ling stepped through the main entrance.
Ling was startled by the silence. There was a mynah bird on the roof and a few chickadees on the gravel path, feeding on small seeds. She looked around. “Where is everyone?”
“They are likely doing a quiet meditation at this time of day.”
“Is it always so quiet?”
“Often. Sometimes there is chanting, or the bell is rung.” Qilan pointed to the bell tower to their right.
Qilan walked ahead, and Ling followed her through long hallways, as they turned many corners.
“Here,” Qilan said, stopping at a large set of vermillion doors. “The Abbess Si’s study. Let’s wait here. When they are finished with their meditation, she will return here.”
The Abbess was not long in arriving. She was an older woman, her hair already all white but kept tidily in a similar kind of braid as Qilan wore. There were many wrinkles around her eyes, but her smile was warm.