Song of the Silk Road

by Mingmei Yip

  Alex, I’m so sorry that I… betrayed you. What are you doing now in New York? Do you still think about me, desire my body, savor our desert lovemaking?

  Hai, what had I done with my love life? While I thought I was truly in love with Alex, less than two weeks after he’d gone, I was already in another man’s arms, a monk no less.

  I shook my head, watching Floating Cloud’s chest rise and fall. I had already carried out part of my task, but the treasures I was supposed to steal seemed unattainable. Should I just smother him under the blanket right here and now? But of course that was just pure fantasy. So instead of smothering a sleeping monk, I smothered my overactive imagination and thought of a different strategy.

  “Ahhh! Heaven!” I screamed, sounding eerily strange even to my own ears.

  The monk jolted awake. Swift and precise like a fox, he jumped off the bed and pulled me down, then covered my body with his naked one.

  “Are you hurt?” His voice, filled with concern, came out a heated whisper.

  I didn’t answer, but trembled like I was possessed.

  He moved away to carefully scan the room and peek outside the window. Then he came back to hold me, his facial muscles tensed. “Did you see someone?”

  I both shook and nodded my head; my body continued to shake.

  “You stay here. Let me go check and I’ll be right back.”

  As he stood up to slip on his robe, I pointed to a far corner outside the window. “Yes, right over there! Oh, heavens, she’s moving! Help! Help!”

  His eyes followed my pointing finger as he walked to the window. “But there’s nothing there.”

  “Yes, there is!”

  He looked carefully everywhere before he came back to hold me. “It’s only in your head. Calm down. Please.”

  “No, I saw it, it’s a she! With long hair and a red stuck-out tongue! Oh, my God!”

  He lifted me onto the bed and cooed. “Let’s meditate to rid your mind of these vile thoughts.”

  I buried my head into his broad chest. Then I flipped my eyes and trembled my lips, while my body shook like a small boat in a violent storm.

  “No! She’s coming to get me! Coming to get me! Oh, please, no! No!”

  “Shhh… please… stop screaming. Don’t be scared. There is no ghost, only me here with you.” He was still holding me like a father his favorite child. “Relax, no one will come here to disturb you. You’ve just had a nightmare.”

  My act lasted a few more minutes before I came out of the trance.

  I disentangled from his grasp, looked up to study his face, then put up a sweet, innocent smile. “Master Floating Cloud, I’m hungry. Can we eat?”

  He looked completely puzzled. “Are you OK?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “You mean you have no idea what just happened?”

  “Not really. What happened?”

  “You were possessed!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were rambling and acting strange and talking nonsense. You claimed a she-ghost was coming to get you.”

  I stared at him with widened, innocent eyes. “Did I really act like that?”

  “Yes!”

  I thought for a long while. “Hmmm… maybe you’re right. Now I remember. I did see something….”

  “What did you see?”

  I didn’t answer his question, but said, “When I was young, I had these fits from time to time and that really freaked out my mother. I possess yin eyes to see ghosts.”

  He laughed. “Pure Wisdom and I chant, perform rituals, cleanse, and purify this place twice a day. So I don’t think there are any unwholesome things here.”

  I understood by “unwholesome things” he meant ghosts, or other beings beyond the human realm.

  I remained silent.

  “Did you see a doctor for your fits?” He looked at me, eyes filled with concern.

  I nodded. “But they couldn’t figure out anything wrong. So finally my mother took me to an herbalist who gave me a mixture of herbs and magic spells written on paper. She cooked both and pushed them down my throat.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Yes. I haven’t had that for a long time until tonight. So it must be triggered by the unfamiliar environment here. Oh, Master Floating Cloud, please don’t let me have another attack tonight!” I buried my face into his warm chest and sobbed.

  He caressed my head. “Do you remember what those herbs were?”

  “Yes,” I said, then wrote down on a piece of paper the long list I’d learned from my missing Uyghur friend Lop Nor.

  He studied them with a serious expression, then asked, “Why don’t you carry the medicine with you?”

  “I never expected this would happen again.”

  A few seconds passed before the monk spoke again. “I’ll go get these herbs for you. But I can’t leave you here in case…”

  I smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine by myself. I’d rather you get me the herbs, if you don’t mind. Then we don’t have to worry that I’ll have another fit.”

  I pointed outside the window at the fish-belly white sky. “See? Dawn has broken, so all the spirits should have gone back to the other realm where they belong. You don’t have to worry if you make it back here before the yin world opens up at midnight.”

  “All right then, I won’t be long. At most five, six hours. But are you sure you’ll be OK here?”

  I nodded emphatically. “Yes, believe me, I’ll be fine.”

  After Floating Cloud got dressed and was about to leave, he said, “In case Pure Wisdom comes back before me, just tell him what happened. Be careful and get some rest.”

  I walked the monk to the gate. After watching him descend the path and vanish from sight, I rushed to my room, took my backpack, then dashed down the long stairs to the basement. I had not the slightest idea how Floating Cloud made the wall open with a push of his finger, so I kicked violently at the wall with all the force I could muster. It worked.

  Under the dim light of my flashlight, the secret chamber appeared surreal with the yellowish, thousand-year-old manuscripts soundlessly watching my every move. Now, all by myself, I felt overwhelmed by the vibrations emanating from the room. All the words in the sutras seemed to join together in whispering their ancient wisdom to my modern, unreceptive ears. Or to overpower my vulnerable psyche with their thousand-year-old qi.

  I took deep breaths to calm and focus myself. I couldn’t afford to fail, not having come this far. If caught, would I be killed here? Or simply gone with the wind, like Floating Cloud’s master? Would anyone think about me after I was gone? Probably not for long. Chris would still be with his wife and kid, and Alex, if his young mind would still remember his older lover, might occasionally reminisce about our affair as one of his many Silk Road dalliances.

  Forcing my mind to focus back on the task at hand, I surveyed the room until my eyes lighted upon the two embroidered boxes that stored the bloody Diamond Sutra and Gold Buddha. I took both down and pushed them into my backpack.

  Although I was not a Buddhist, I muttered a prayer to the Buddha to understand and forgive what I’d just done and, I hoped, to protect me. Since I needed all the help I could get, I also said prayers to God, Jesus, and Mary, even though I doubted they’d listen to my prayer about their rival scripture and god.

  I knew I would regret it later, but I couldn’t take any time to channel my yin energy to see if there were spirits who could tell me what other secrets were hidden in this forbidden, ghostly silent room. I cast a last glance and closed the door behind me.

  Fearful that Floating Cloud or Pure Wisdom might return at any moment, I rushed upstairs, dashed outside the temple threshold, and began the long descent downhill. In my haste, my feet slipped a few times and I had to grab onto vines or rocks to prevent myself from falling. The coolie’s gloves proved to be a smart purchase; otherwise the bleeding from my hands might have led the two monks to think I’d had an accident and start searching for
me. I wished nothing more at this moment than to disappear from their sight and from this temple forever.

  Just as I was struggling down a slippery section, suddenly I saw movement in the distance. My heart knocked violently against my ribs. Whether it was a monk or a ghost, it would be equally disastrous! Panicked, I slipped and fell into a hole. Fortunately the hole was not deep and I just scraped my knee. I peeked from above the rock and looked. The figure was moving fast as if he was taking long strides. When it got closer, I realized, to my utter fear, it was Pure Wisdom! I had not forgotten that Pure Wisdom was a floating martial artist who could walk on walls and glide between trees. However, to my great relief, he failed to spot me, so a few minutes later I climbed out from the hole and practically rolled down the hill, ignoring the burning pain on every part of my body.

  16

  A Healer’s Fate

  Back in the seeming safety of my desert cottage, the first thing I did was to hide the treasures. I pulled open one of the tires and stuffed the box containing the Gold Buddha inside. Since the box with the scroll was too long for the other tire, I put it underneath my mattress. Not a very subtle hiding place but the best I could manage at that moment. Relieved, l fell into a deep sleep.

  When I woke up the sky had already turned dark and the clock next to my bed read 10:30 PM. I’d been so tired that I’d slept through most of the day. I got off the bed, washed my hands and face, then took out the two treasures and examined them. The Gold Buddha gleamed under the kerosene lamp, as if dying to tell me the story of his adventures on this Red Dust. Under a gentle push of my finger, the base spat out the small tray holding the numerous crystals, supposedly leftover ashes of the Buddha.

  Suddenly it occurred to me that the two monks might try to track me down. The only safe thing was to return the two objects to the museum as soon as possible. Then I told myself that the monks’ chances of finding me were close to zero. After all, they did not even know who I was—Lily Lin, not Violet Chen as I had told them. Besides, my village was almost a hundred miles from the mountain monastery, and it was not even shown on the map. However, these were not ordinary monks but kung fu experts who managed to live on a mountain with no path.

  I went to boil water and brew tea. After taking several sips of the hot, fragrant liquid and feeling more relaxed, I sat up straight, unrolled the scroll, and braced myself to study the Diamond Sutra. According to Floating Cloud, this was one of the most powerful, profound scriptures in the world. Respect and awe rose up in me as I began to read.

  All living beings, whether egg-born, womb-born, moisture-born or spontaneously-born, whether formed or formless, whether sentient or non-sentient; whether they are aware or unaware, not aware or not unaware, all these beings will be led by me to Nirvana and released from the cycle of birth and death….

  When my eyes landed on the single character for death, my heart sank as words shot out involuntarily from my mouth. “Lop Nor is dead!”

  I fell back onto the bed and waited for my heart to stop pounding. Then I reached to turn off the lamp. I began to channel my energy until I sank into a trancelike state and felt my yin eye open. Dimly, I sensed that recently someone had entered my cottage, someone from another realm. The being, apparently male, had lingered for a long time, anxiously waiting for me. Now in the tender of the night, its residual vibrations still seemed to be palpitating, vibrations that seemed to come from someone recently departed to the yin world.

  I muttered in the dark, “Lop Nor, are you here?”

  No answer. Of course. Even if there were ghosts and they could somehow talk, I didn’t imagine that they could be heard by the living.

  I focused on sending energy to my third eye. Moments after, I thought I saw something—a shadow flickering by the window.

  “Please, Lop Nor, if that’s you, are you now in the yang world or the yin one?”

  Again, no response.

  Feeling that I was about to have a panic attack, I exclaimed, “Lop Nor, please. Give me some sign! Anything! Please!”

  Suddenly a strong wind blew in through the window, startling me.

  “Just tell me if you are dead.” This time my voice came out softer and calmer.

  Again, another wind blew in, rattling the door, the windows, the teapot, the teacup.

  “Are you very unhappy? Do you want me to do something for you?”

  Yet another strong draft. This time it knocked the teacup off the small table. The sound of the thin china shattering pierced my ears.

  Then total silence. I forced myself to stay awake, just in case my friend was going to give me another sign. But it remained disturbingly quiet. Lop Nor’s seeming presence had completely dissolved into thin air. And I, exhausted, fell into oblivion….

  The next morning, I quickly ate two rice balls, drank the leftover tea, got dressed, then left the cottage for Lop Nor’s store.

  When I arrived at the herbal shop, the door was half open. Hope surged inside me. Maybe Lop Nor was back and what I’d experienced last night was nothing but my own imagination. With a slightly trembling hand, I knocked at the door a few times before stepping in. Then, to my distress, it was not my Uyghur friend who came to greet me but a plump, fiftyish man—in a blue shirt and a matching muslin hat—I did not recognize.

  “I’m the landlord. Lop Nor is gone, so we’re not doing business anymore.”

  To my relief, he spoke in Mandarin. Maybe he could tell I was Han Chinese.

  “I understand. I’m Lop Nor’s friend. He helped me to find herbs.”

  “So you must be the girl from the U.S.?” His round face lit up.

  I nodded. “Yes, I’m Lily Lin.”

  The landlord immediately went behind the counter, snatched a letter and a bulging package, then came back to hand them to me. “Lop Nor left this package for you. I also have a letter he mailed to me to give to you.”

  “Do you mind if I sit here while I open it?” I glanced at the envelope hoping to see a return address, but no such luck.

  “Go ahead. I’ll be busy packing and cleaning up.”

  I sat down on my usual chair, tore open the envelope, snatched out the letter, and saw Lop Nor’s neat, childlike writing in Chinese:

  Miss Lin,

  Your prediction was right. My wife and child are alive. But this is bad news for me, not good. Before, every night I could not sleep believing that they were dead. Now, every night I cannot sleep knowing that they are alive—because they refused to acknowledge me. The hope you gave me when you entered my life was soon crushed by cruel fate.

  After you left, I had a dream in which I saw them together in the marketplace, laughing and looking happy. As soon as I woke up from the dream I went to the shaman’s village, risking my life to look for them. I soon spotted my wife and son. They were happily talking and eating, just as in my dream.

  I dashed up to them. But instead of looking happy and throwing herself into my arms, my wife stepped back with a shocked expression. She was not happy at all! Instead she looked so disgusted that I felt my body being axed a million times. As for my son, he looked scared and didn’t seem to recognize me either. He hid behind his mother and looked at me suspiciously.

  She grabbed our son and tried to pull him away. I held onto her and asked, “Aren’t you happy that we are a family again?” I begged her to come home with me but she refused. When I tried to put my arm around my son, my wife moved in front of him to block my hand as if I were an abductor, or a leper.

  Angrily, she asked me to leave them alone and not spoil their good life. But I’d thought she had a good life with me! I’d given her everything she wanted and pampered her like a princess. But she said I didn’t understand women. Was she crazy, or me?

  Then she told me she was now the shaman’s wife and my son his son.

  I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. She was having a rich, luxurious life with the murderer of my family! My wife glared at me and said she would tell her husband about our encounter and if I kept harassi
ng them then I needed to watch out. I realized they must be under a spell cast by the shaman.

  Life does not make sense anymore—there is nothing left for me. My only hope is to reunite with my family, especially my mother and grandfather, in the Black Dragon Pond.

  My friend, you are a good person. My life came back a little every day when you began your visits to my store, especially when you told me that my wife and son might still be alive.

  I will leave all the special herbs and recipes for you, including how to decoct the snow lotuses. I hope they will be of use to you instead of ending up in the hands of the ignorant, or evil. I buried the herbs in plastic sacks under the grave marker of the boy named Tangri, my son whom I’d believed was killed during the massacre. You should be able to easily unearth them. There are no bodies buried there; they are all under the lake as I told you. I just placed the markers there to commemorate my family—to have a place for me to pay my respect.

  I believe the shaman put a fatal spell on me because I have not been feeling well at all, and even my best herbs have not helped. When you read this letter, I’ll be a ghost with a big stone tied around each of my feet, just like my relatives. The stones will keep me at the bottom of the lake where I belong, and where my family will be with me again after all these years.

  I am leaving my jade pendant for you. I know you liked it.

  This was my wedding gift to my wife, but she rarely wore it. She only liked new things and this stone is one thousand years old and contains spirits. I have been wearing it since I believed my wife was dead.

  I hope this jade will watch you living a long, healthy, happy life. I also hope that you’ll think of me from time to time when you touch it.

  Good-bye.

  Your loyal friend’s last writing

  Lop Nor

  The jade and letter in my hand, I wiped away a tear, then braced myself to tell the landlord. “Lop Nor is not coming back.”