Song of the Silk Road

by Mingmei Yip

  Some silence passed and he continued, changing the course of the conversation. “Your so-called aunt, she’s both good and bad to you. When she came to me ten-odd years ago, she was desperate for help and guidance. But unfortunately she didn’t follow my advice. That’s why she has been suffering. The will of heaven is not to be slighted.”

  “How is she suffering?”

  “Both mentally and physically.” He penetrated my eyes with his sightless ones behind the dark glasses. “Miss Lin, you’re the only one who’ll be able to rescue her from the sea of suffering. You are her guiren.”

  Of course I knew the term guiren—noble person. These are people, including strangers, you may encounter along your life’s path who will give you unconditional help, even saving your life. Simply put—angels. But how could a powerless young woman like me be Mindy Madison’s guiren?

  The master’s powerful voice rose again in the small cell. “Someday you’ll understand what all this means. Meanwhile, you have to undergo a long, arduous journey. But don’t worry, your effort will be handsomely rewarded. But you have to be careful—very careful. Now please open the door for me.”

  After I did, he yelled toward the entrance. “Ah Hung, is the soup ready?”

  “Master, can Ah Hung hear you that far away?”

  He nodded. “I’ve been summoning him like this for many years since I developed arthritis and can’t walk all the time to fetch him. After all these years his hearing is extremely acute.”

  Soon Ah Hung materialized by the door, holding a tray. Carefully he laid down the two steaming bowls in front of us. Before he left, he leaned to whisper into my ear, “Miss Lin, very nutritious black chicken soup with very precious wild ginseng.”

  Now that his disciple was in the room, the master was making an effort to lower his voice. “Ah Hung, do your job without boasting, especially not to our noble guests. Also, don’t whisper to any guest when there is nothing to hide in this land of purity. Go eat your own soup in the other room.”

  “Yes, Master,” Ah Hung said, then winked at me as he dragged his small posterior out the door.

  The master yelled to his back, “Ah Hung, how many times I’ve told you not to wink to our honorable guests, except small children?”

  “Of course, Master!”

  Was this decrepit old man really blind? Just then, as if to clear my doubt, Soaring Crane took off his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief.

  “The steam of the soup mists my glasses,” he said, then looked up to stare at me with his sightless pupils—two cloudy white marbles like the eyes of a fish left under the sun for days.

  I stared at him, trying to suppress an “Oh, my God!” and then quickly averted my glance. What if he could tell by his sixth, seventh, even eighth sense that I was staring at him? Although the soup was steaming hot, my body felt chilled.

  “Please, Miss Lin,” he said, putting his glasses back on.

  We began to eat the delicious and qi-filled soup. Soaring Crane made loud, slurping sounds, just what I had been severely criticized for as a child.

  He spoke between sips. “Feel free to slurp and enjoy. This soup is cooked with many yang ingredients to generate a warming effect.”

  I looked up from my bowl. “What yang ingredients?”

  “Black chicken, wild ginger, dried dragon-eye pulp, and red berries cooked by fire from the raw wood dried in our courtyard for months under the sun. Ah Hung deliberately chose these ingredients to complement your yin nature.”

  Could he tell that I had yin eyes?

  After I drained the last drop, I said, “Master Soaring Crane, the soup is excellent and so is your consultation. I am very grateful that you generously gave me so much of your precious time. Now I think it’s time to stop bothering you and Ah Hung. I’ll… pay him on my way out.” Although Ah Hung had told me his master had stopped charging, I still thought I should offer to pay.

  When I stood up and was turning to leave, Master Soaring Crane waved me to sit back down. “Wait a minute, Miss Lin. Please sit for a while.”

  I sat down. Suddenly I was afraid he would ask for more money than I could comfortably afford.

  But his question surprised me. “Are you wearing something around your neck?”

  My hand involuntarily reached to touch Lop Nor’s pendant. “Yes, but how can you tell?” I immediately regretted my question, since he might take it as a remark of his blindness.

  “Because I’ve been analyzing your qi since you’ve been in this room and realize that the strongest part of it comes from around your neck. You’re wearing white jade, right?”

  “Yes, but how do you know it’s jade, and white?” Maybe he was only faking blindness after all! A charlatan! Then how to explain his cloudy, dead-fish eyes? Some kind of theatrical makeup?

  “Miss Lin, jades can be hundreds or thousands of years old. So only jade can send out vibrations like this, not silver or gold, which is newly made by gold- and silversmiths. Since old jades have been absorbing all kinds of qi from the universe and from their different owners, they release very strong, complex vibrations.”

  I touched Lop Nor’s pendant. “Master, what kind of vibrations has this pendant been sending out?”

  “Please take it off and let me touch it.”

  I slipped off the jade and handed it to the fortune-teller.

  He caressed, rubbed, weighed, and bounced it in his pink, fleshy palm. Then he shook his head. “Miss Lin, better not wear this anymore.”

  I protested. “But, Master, this is a very precious gift from a very dear friend!” I thought of the one-thousand-renminbi ivory bracelet thrown away like garbage by Keku. So, no, I was definitely not going to do the same with my dear departed friend’s precious family heirloom.

  “Then more reason not to wear it. Because this person’s spirit is still very much attached to the necklace, so it will throw you off balance, especially during inauspicious moments like sickness, getting lost, being frightened.”

  “But it’s just a necklace.” My Western mind still believed that my earlier sickness was caused by the polluted air in the bazaar, not something so ridiculous as a ghost dwelling inside my ivory bracelet.

  “Stones, especially jade, are very powerful,” Soaring Crane murmured, then licked his wrinkled lips. “Let me be straight with you, Miss Lin. I’m afraid that this jade has locked in too many tears. If you wear it, you’ll be the one who will shed those tears.” He paused, then added, “The one who wore it before—a life so tragic as his will take many years of tears to repay.”

  “How do you know the owner was a man?”

  “The qi, it’s very yang.”

  I nodded.

  He went on. “This man is… in love with you. Deeply.”

  I sighed. “My friend was drowned in a lake.”

  Now I could see the master’s dead-fish eyes darted in their small confines behind his glasses. “No, in tears.”

  Before I could respond, he continued, “That was just the physical manifestation of this accident. The ultimate truth is that he was drowned in tears triggered by his beloved woman. Or women. Please tell me his story.”

  I did. This time no lies, since Lop Nor had nothing to do with Mindy Madison.

  After I finished, Soaring Crane let out a long exhalation. “Hai… You know, Miss Lin, according to the Subtle Purple Calculus, all of us are granted by heaven one hundred and twenty years to live. But because this dusty world is filled with all kinds of dangers and dooms waiting to grab you, only those who escape them survive. We are all born with twelve stars governing our lives. The Life Star decides our character, and the Transmigration Star our actions. If we can balance the two, we can all live to a hundred and twenty.”

  Was the master already close to his hundred and twenty years?

  He sighed. “No one escapes the entanglements of this world, do they?”

  Suddenly I imagined there might be a poignant love story hidden behind those dark glasses and sightless eyes. I hesit
ated a moment before I threw out the forbidden question. “And you, Master?”

  His answer surprised me. “Of course not.”

  “Do you mean…” I was about to ask if his heart had also been broken by a woman—or several women.

  But the master said, “Although I’m a lay person, not a monk, I was never married. Ah Hung and this temple are my lifelong entanglements.”

  I smiled. “Ah Hung is a very sweet person.”

  “Sweet? More like sweet and sour. If only you had a chance to live with him!”

  We both laughed.

  Moments passed. He “looked” at the pendant again, his expression turning serious. “If you wear this around your neck as you do, the bad vibrations will enter your life.”

  “But Lop Nor is not going to hurt me, not even as a ghost!”

  “Not intentionally, but accidentally. If this necklace means a lot to you, when you go home, wrap it in a clean cloth, preferably silk, and put it away in a dry, cool place. This way it’ll be left in peace while still feeling close to you. Just don’t wear it, especially not touching your bare flesh.”

  He handed the pendant back to me. “For now, you can put it back on. Otherwise it might be stolen or lost on your long trip back. But don’t forget to take it off when you’re home.”

  “Thank you so much for your advice, Master,” I said, putting the necklace back around my neck. Now it suddenly seemed weighted with a ton of sloshing tears.

  “Miss Lin, yours is a peach blossom life. Maybe it’s flattering and pleasurable to have all these men chasing you. But ultimately you better stay with one. Passion and lust will vanish like smoke and dust. Only true love lasts.”

  He paused for a few seconds, seemingly deep in thought, then added, “Most of your lovers are mutually destructive with the element of water. It’s their fate.”

  Before I could ask how, he waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve revealed to you enough of heaven’s secrets. Now you can take leave. I need my afternoon nap.” Then he craned his neck toward the door. “Ah Hung, come and show Miss Lin the way out!”

  I opened my bag and pulled out my purse. “Master Soaring Crane, you still haven’t told me how much…”

  He cut me off sharply. “Miss Lin, please don’t embarrass me and yourself. Anyway, your consultation has already been paid.”

  “But by who?”

  “Your so-called aunt. Ten-odd years ago, when she came here for consultation, she left a large amount of money to the temple. That was how I could maintain the temple and bring up the orphans. So now both you and her debt are paid.” He went on. “Your so-called aunt is not a bad person, she just has bad judgment, which led to a bad life. By donating she’s neutralized some of her bad karma.”

  “Master, may I ask why you referred to her as my so-called aunt?”

  “Heaven’s secret will reveal itself when the right time comes. Just follow the Way. Always wait till the right, propitious moment to act. In this dusty world, timing is everything, so is patience. Also, don’t forget to exploit the use of your yin energy. It’s very charming. I’ve been feeling it all along.”

  I pondered what he had told me, awed by the wisdom of this decrepit old man. What more pearls were hidden inside his face’s oyster shell–like wrinkles?

  Then he suddenly recited something like a poem. “The soft always overpower the strong. Nothing can be softer than water, however, nothing can destroy the hardest thing like water.”

  Now he looked me in the eyes. “It’s from Laozi’s Daode Jing. I doubt a Western-educated young woman like you would have heard of this.”

  “Sorry, Master.” I involuntarily lowered my head even though I knew he couldn’t see me. Or could he? Maybe through his third eye.

  “Miss Lin, you may return to visit us anytime.”

  Outside the temple door, Ah Hung had already arranged for coolies to take me down the mountain. “Miss, visit us when you have time. It’s quite lonely up here.”

  “I will, and thank you, Ah Hung.”

  He handed me the three embroidered bags. “Miss Lin, you forgot to take this wisdom endowed by Master. People are willing to pay a fortune for Master’s heavenly granted knowledge, not to mention his much-sought-after, exquisite calligraphy.”

  “Oh, how could I’ve forgotten this?” I said, taking the three “poems in a pouch” from Ah Hung.

  As I stepped onto the sedan chair, I tucked the small silk pouches into my backpack, a little nervous about what they might have to tell me.

  Use your feminine charm.

  The master’s saying rang loud and clear in my ears. I sighed. Did it mean I had to seduce more men on this journey?

  After I left the temple, I headed straight back to Urumqi, then checked back into the Xinjiang Hotel. That night, I flipped and flopped in bed, failing to get any sleep. My encounter with Soaring Crane was the scariest so far, even more than with Floating Cloud, though in a different way. The monk might be plain fraudulent and depraved, but the master’s predictions and his crane soaring with all the mysterious stars were beyond my writer’s wisest intelligence and wildest imagination.

  What other routes, exciting or dangerous, were written on my life’s map? And what stars glowed bright and clear above my head? I prayed they’d lead to joy, not sadness; laughter, not tears; love, not heartbreak. I prayed that my Transmigration Star would shine brightly to lead me home.

  Early next morning after I finished breakfast, I booked a ticket to New York. Holding the thick papers in my hands, I first felt excited, then alarmed, wondering if I’d made the right decision to leave China in the middle of my mission, even only for a few days. However, I felt I needed this break for my mental and physical health.

  In the desert, I had not been eating well because I did not take to the local food. I disliked the Uyghur tradition of tearing the nang into small pieces and dipping them into sweet milk tea before consumption. I hated the stink of lamb, but mutton is everywhere—whole roasted sheep; mutton shashlik, which is barbecued lamb pierced by a bamboo stick; steamed mutton dumplings; baked bread dough stuffed with mutton and onions; boiled noodles with sautéed mutton. I terribly missed Chris’s gourmet cooking and the endless arrays of ethnic foods in Manhattan.

  I then set off for the village. Once back, I washed, wrote in my journal about my meeting with Soaring Crane and Ah Hung, then went to Keku and told her about my upcoming departure. We were sitting inside her cottage, with Mito playing by our side.

  “Why go back? Village no good?” she asked.

  “No, Keku, you know I love this village. I just need to take a break. The desert is too hard for me, and I’m not used to the food here so I have not been eating well.”

  “Food very good in America?”

  “Yes, it’s the richest country in the world.”

  “Like people make one thousand a month?” She was referring to the price I’d paid for the possessed ivory bracelet that could have been used to buy two sheep, a dozen chickens, a new bicycle for Mito, and a new pan for her.

  We laughed.

  “You like living there?”

  I nodded.

  “And the young man?”

  “You saw him?”

  “Of course.” She pointed to her chest. “He someone here?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Yes and no?” She cast me a chiding glance, then pointed to her son. “Look, Mito’s four. I married eighteen, so now old woman.”

  I chuckled. “Keku, then what does that make me at twenty-nine, a grandmother?”

  Just then Mito plunged his tiny body onto Keku’s lap and rubbed his round head against her ample chest. Keku smiled to her son and spoke to him jokingly in their Uyghur language.

  Mito looked up at me with his big, curious eyes while uttering a loud, “Grandmamma!”

  Keku and I laughed uncontrollably. After I calmed down, I took candies from my pocket and handed them to the boy.

  Keku said, “Miss Lin, have a child quick. If not, too old. It�
�s troublesome but happy. Old woman with no husband not too bad, but old woman with no children very sad.”

  As if on cue, the sun’s descent began to smear the sky with a tragic reddish orange. Was getting old that horrible a scenario? Face wrinkled, hands spotted, loved ones gone? Then Alex’s smooth and tender visage emerged in my mind’s eye, looking sad and pleading, as if reiterating his undying love for me.

  “You think so?” I tousled Mito’s hair while he was busy unwrapping a candy and popping it into his mouth.

  “Yes!” the son answered loudly for his mother, this time in Mandarin, his mouth full.

  PART THREE

  22

  Back to New York

  After my long absence, my New York studio looked familiar yet forlorn, like a neglected puppy. I made a mental note to buy some flowers and plants to brighten it up. But the first thing I did was to take a long, hot bubble bath, something that I hadn’t had the luxury of enjoying for four months. So when the scalding, fragrant water splashed generously on my bare flesh, grateful moans escaped from between my lips. As I rubbed myself hard to get rid of the dirt from the desert and the twenty-hour plane ride, I felt my body beginning to crave a man’s touch.

  I wanted Alex, but I called Chris instead. And I did not want to think why.

  My former professor seemed both shocked and elated to hear from me. “Lily, I could’ve picked you up at the airport. Why didn’t you call?”

  “Sorry, Chris, but I had to walk two miles to get a public phone and most of the time they don’t work anyway.” This was a lie; I knew I could have found a way to call if I’d really wanted.

  “All right, stay right there till I arrive.”

  “What about your wife and son?”

  “You let me take care of that.”

  “Chris.” Suddenly I regretted the call. “I… think maybe we should stop seeing each other. It’s not right….”

  “Lily, I’m very sorry about our situation. But give me time. And please let me see your beautiful face and body tonight. I miss you.”