"I cannot let you leave. No more than I can run from here. Therefore, I must do this thing."
She swallowed, and he saw tears swim in her bright bronze eyes.
He reached over, lifting the relevant scroll off the floor. "They are simple exercises. You can see that they will not harm you."
He opened the scroll to show her, but from her tied position she could not see the text. The room was too dark, with the only light coming from high above. Even so, she obviously tried to read. Her eyes narrowed, and Zou Tun watched her focus flick from the written words to the diagram. Still, he knew she could not see much, and so he let his hands drop, bringing the parchment to his lap.
"I wish to untie you."
Her gaze had been following the scroll, even though she could not read it. At his words, her focus snapped to him.
"Shi Po is not a fool, and neither is her husband. There will be guards posted outside our door. You will not be able to escape even if you manage to move past me. Do you understand?"
He watched her expression droop, and knew he had guessed her intent. She still nursed plans to escape. "Do the ghost people keep their word?"
She blinked, then nodded vigorously.
"Many men have spoken of how the ghost people are as inconstant as the wind that blew them here. They promise with all goodwill until the mood strikes them differently. They are prey to their own bestial natures, and cannot control their actions. Is this so?"
Her frown became fierce. She vehemently shook her head.
"I believe it is so," he said firmly. "I believe the ghost people have such weakness, just as many of my countrymen do." He paused, making sure she gave him her full attention. "You also have shown yourself to be subject to your whims."
She opened her mouth to object despite her injured throat. He pressed a finger to her lips to keep the sound inside.
"You injured your horse because of such a whim," he reminded her.
She pressed her lips together, clearly disagreeing. Then, to his surprise, she nodded.
"Ah, so you do agree?"
She shrugged, clearly unwilling to give him complete victory. And for some bizarre reason, that made him smile.
"Very well. You have shown that you can learn. Learn this: We must purify your yin. For your own health as well as for further practice. The process will take many days."
Her eyes widened at the word days, and she shook her head in refusal.
"Yes. Days. But the sooner you are purified, the sooner we can begin the training and the sooner this captivity will end. I have no more interest in remaining here than you, but it is necessary."
Her eyes narrowed in anger. He did not care. It was the truth. He could not leave, and he could not allow her to return to her fellow barbarians until he was long gone. Therefore, she had to stay with him as his partner in this bizarre religion.
"I offer you a bargain. I will untie you if you will agree to remain here. Otherwise I shall leave you bound. Even worse than that, I shall demand a different partner," he lied. "I do not know who will purify you then. Shi Po will have the choosing, and she is not a tender woman."
The barbarian did not respond, but her very stillness told him she understood her choices exactly.
"Will you make this bargain with me?" he asked. "Will you accept the training from me? Without struggle?"
She didn't respond at first. Instead she stared at him, her eyes narrowed. Her gaze felt heavy upon him, as if she were weighing his worth and his honesty against those of some unknown stranger chosen by Shi Po.
Then Heaven intervened to assist her: A noise sounded from just outside the door. It was not a loud sound, merely the shuffling of tired feet. Zou Tun saw Miss Crane's eyes cut straight to the door, and he knew her thoughts. She wondered if the person outside would help or hurt her. Was the guard there to keep them locked inside? Or could he be turned to assist her?
Zou Tun decided to answer her questions. Without another word he grabbed the cold tea tray and unlocked the door, pulling it as wide-open as possible. Just in the hallway, standing right outside the door, was not one, but two heavily armed guards. There was no surprise on the men's faces when they looked inside and saw a ghost woman chained to the bed, merely a smirking envy. One of them took the cold tray from Zou Tun's hands.
Zou Tun shut the door, cutting off the men's leering looks. He walked back to the bed.
"Choose now," he said. "Will you make this bargain with me? If I untie your bonds, will you accept what I must do?"
She cast one last look at the doorway, her dismay evident. She did not want one of those men to touch her. And so, with a sigh, she nodded her head. She would accept his bargain.
Without another word he unbound her hands and her feet, helping her to sit as she tried to rub feeling back into her wrists. He waited patiently, knowing neither of them wished to proceed. Still, he was excruciatingly aware of the passing time. How long would Shi Po spend with her husband? How long before she came to inspect their progress?
He did not know, but he feared her reaction if they did not begin soon. With a voice as gentle as possible, he turned to Miss Crane.
"We must begin now. Please remove your robe."
5 March, 1896
Dearest Kang Zou,
A great evil has befallen me! Terrible demons have killed my darling songbird. Oh, my brother, she was singing so sweetly, but then with a great boom her song was silenced. When I rushed to see my darling bird, it was an old, shriveled thing, a most despicable creature that once had given me such pleasure. How horrid for such a young bird to be struck down needlessly.
My only explanation is that I called these demons of death to me. My melancholy at your absence has given me such grief that I drew evil to me. Oh, please, dear brother, can you not come home for a short time to save me from the ghosts that must now be drawing ever nearer?
Confucius speaks of the natural family order. Ours is out of balance without your presence.
Your grieving sister,
Wen Ji
~
Decoded translation:
Son, great evil threatens our country. My battles against the white barbarians have gone very badly. The enemy has some ghostly magic that destroys our brave soldiers. The Chinese fall like old, shriveled men at the mere sound of the white people's booming guns. Without a success soon, our family name will be forever struck from the emperor's mouth.
You must bring me word of your success. Our only hope lies with you.
Do not forget your obligations to family and country. A dutiful son and a good Manchurian would accomplish your task speedily.
Your anxious father,
General Kang
30 March, 1896
Dearest Wen Ji,
I grieve with you, and tremble that such terrible ghosts should threaten our family garden. Is there no defense against these monsters? I have made offerings in your name and pray ceaselessly for your welfare.
The climate warms slowly here in the mountains, and my studies proceed even more weakly. But I have found great wisdom here, amazing wonders in the writings of Lao Tzu. Though I fear for you constantly, my soul is learning peace for the first time. My heart toils ceaselessly toward enlightenment, and I spend long hours striving to walk in harmony with what is natural. I wish that you could join me here, learning from the abbot's wisdom. But of course, such things are impossible.
But perhaps Heaven will smile upon us yet, dropping the impossible into our hands.
Your hopeful brother,
Kang Zou
~
Decoded translation:
Dearest Father,
I grieve that the battle against the barbarians goes so badly. Is there nothing you can learn to fight them? I have made offerings to Buddha for your welfare.
I have made little progress finding the conspirators. But I have discovered great knowledge among the monks. The Tao brings peace and joy to my heart, and I spend much time striving to walk a true monk's path.
/>
I wish to show you these things, to teach you as I have been taught. But of course, as a general, you cannot afford such luxury. Still, if I earnestly devote myself to my studies, perhaps Buddha will bless our family with good fortune.
Your devout son,
Zou Tun
Everyone is selfish and has desires. If we wish to rid ourselves of selfish desires, we must first engage in self-examination, and then we must purify and empty ourselves. If we can understand ourselves, overcome ourselves, be content and persevere, then we will have attained the Tao.
—Lao Tzu
Chapter 5
Joanna knew the time had come, long before the Mandarin said a word, but her mind had still not fully come to grips with the situation. She was locked in a room. Her throat had been hurt so that she could not make a sound or even breathe deeply without great pain. And some woman was making her and this man both do some kind of exercises that involved manipulation of one's most private places.
The concept was bizarre, the situation even more so. And yet here she sat while a man calmly informed her it was time to take off her robe. She had heard about these kinds of deviants. There were whispers and rumors of girls trapped and sold into sexual slavery. Though her situation did not exactly fit what she'd heard, she supposed that was what had happened to her.
Indeed, it would be what everyone would assume had happened to her, whether or not she escaped with her virtue intact.
Unfortunately, her reputation was not her most immediate problem. Captivity. Injury. Great pain. All these were more pressing.
She was tempted to embrace a fit of histrionics, to allow the pain to knock her unconscious so that she would not have to endure whatever was coming. Indeed, unconsciousness seemed like an excellent option right then. Too bad she wasn't in the least bit interested in being senseless.
It was stupid, really, and Joanna felt a grave disappointment in herself for her cowardice. The bald truth was that she was too afraid to force herself to black out. What would happen to her? What would be done? To what would she be subjected? She found she didn't want to be blind and deaf in addition to being mute. She might miss an opportunity to escape—or a clue to this bizarre situation.
To make herself unconscious would be to surrender to hopelessness. And she could not give up that easily. Which meant she had to stay awake. Which meant...
She had to take off her robe.
"No," she tried to whisper. But pain cut off the sound before she could do more than shake her head.
The Mandarin's eyes grew hard. "You have promised, Joanna Crane. Do you wish to be tied up again?"
She shook her head. She could accomplish nothing when bound. Instead she pointed to the scroll. Perhaps if she knew what was to happen, she would be better able to choose. After all, she could always knock herself out with a few deep breaths, right? So perhaps if she could see the scroll, understand what made those women so beautiful...
He handed it to her, spreading it open upon her lap.
"You see," he said in the same low, soothing tones he had used to calm her horse. "I shall read it to you so you understand there is nothing to fear."
In truth, she could read the text relatively well on her own. After a decade in this country, she had learned a great deal. But the more he spoke aloud, the longer the delay. So she nodded, smiling slightly by way of thanks.
" 'That which is old will become young again,' " he began. " 'That which sags will become firm. The lotus will bloom and dew will glisten like pearls among the petals.' " Then he pointed to a picture of a naked woman sitting with her right leg bent. "You must sit like this with your foot pressed against your cinnabar cave."
She frowned, not sure she understood.
"Cinnabar cave," he repeated slowly. "It is there. At the juncture of a woman's thighs. We call it such because of the unique scent."
Joanna felt her face flush with embarrassment. No one had ever shown her pictures such as these, much less discussed them with such frank honesty. But the Manchurian continued, moving on to a picture of a woman with her hands on her breasts.
"'For purification, circle the breasts seventy-two times, starting in the center, then moving outward. Rehabilitation begins by moving the hands in the opposite direction, starting at the outside and moving toward the center.'" He stopped reading then, but Joanna did not. She continued to scan the words, trying to understand.
Then she felt the man's hand gently lifting her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"Do barbarians put great store in a woman's purity?" he asked. Then he frowned, shaking his head. "Not purity. Virginity. Do you barbarians prize a woman's virginity?"
She managed to nod, even though her face was flaming.
"We Chinese do as well. That is why Tigresses do not allow a man's dragon ever to enter their caves. It distends the opening and steals her youthful fluids."
Joanna blinked, completely lost. She glanced back down at the scroll, touching the sketch of a tiger—no, a tigress—stretching its body down the page, appearing just as a small cat would when waking from a nap. The pose was evocative, and had drawn her eye from the beginning.
"Yes. The women here are called Tigresses. The men are Dragons. The best, I believe, are called Jade Dragons. We are to learn their practice."
Her gaze shot back to his eyes, her question obvious. Why?
He hesitated, and she could read his inner debate on his face. Would he tell her the truth or not? She was about to become mutinous in demanding honesty when he shrugged his shoulders, apparently deciding on the truth.
"I am here to discharge a debt, and the Tigress Shi Po named this as my punishment."
Joanna's eyes widened. This training was his punishment? But if he saw her question, he did not answer. Instead he reached forward, taking her hand casually.
"You are here because I cannot release you. I cannot allow... certain people to know that I am here. And so, as long as I am in Shanghai, you must remain here and silent."
She straightened, wishing desperately that she could speak, that she could find the words to convince him that she would say nothing. But of course, he knew that. She pressed her hands to her throat, then to her mouth. She couldn't say anything. Didn't he understand that?
He nodded. "Yes, that is why I shut off your voice box. So you could not speak." Then he sighed. "But you can read, can't you? And write?"
Her hands slipped away from her mouth, and she began to deny it. But before she could shake her head, he stopped her by again touching her chin. He held her steady, his eyes seeming darker than the black ink on the scroll between them.
"Do not lie to me, Miss Joanna Crane. It will poison the trust between us; then I fear we will never finish the training. We will be trapped in this tiny room for the rest of our lives."
She frowned, knowing that could not be true. By now her father surely knew she was missing. Likely he would bring guards into every home and brothel in the whole of southern China. And he would not stop until he found her. All she needed to do was survive until he arrived. Survive and look for her opportunity to escape.
Meanwhile, her companion's fingers gripped her chin even tighter. "You are hoping for an opportunity to escape. That is only natural. But I am your single ally in this place. You may be able to hurt me, but you cannot run from them."
She studied his expression closely as he spoke, and she read no lie in his face. But he spoke as if the women—the Tigress and her guards—were her enemy. Perhaps they were his enemy, but she had done nothing wrong. Nothing but speak rashly on a road outside of Shanghai. And yet, she didn't know what he'd told the Tigress about her. What exactly would they do to her if she escaped him? Who was more dangerous? More sincere?
"This I swear to you, Miss Joanna Crane: I will not hurt you. I will not take your virginity. I wish only to practice this religion with you until we both may leave. If you treat me honestly, I will remain true to this vow. But if you lie to me, I will not object when the Tigre
ss sells you to a perfumed garden, where you will be addicted to opium and sold to the highest bidder. Do you understand?"
Joanna swallowed, knowing he was not lying to her. Even worse, she suspected he spoke the truth about her future as well. This was not a brothel such as she had heard of. And if she did not want to go to one of those, then she would have to make the best of it here. With him.
She nodded, though her eyes were blurred with tears. He did not let them fall. Instead he gently wiped them away with his thumbs.
"I like it that you wear no paint," he commented, surprise lacing his voice. "It allows me to see you are flesh and blood, not ghostly spirit. It will make this easier on us both."
She blinked, startled and annoyed by his comment. Did he truly think she cared whether he wanted her in cosmetics or not?
"Much better," he said, a smile softening his features. "You have much fire in you. You should not diminish it with tears."
It took a moment for her to understand. When she did, she could not believe she had heard correctly. Had he been teasing her? So that she would not cry? But why?
"I am not a monster, Joanna Crane," he said gently. "I am—"
Who? She cut him off by abruptly pressing her hand against his chest. Then she mouthed the word again. Who? Who are you?
He hesitated. Clearly he did not want to tell her the truth. Especially as he had gone to such pains to hide his identity. But he was no monk; that much she had already figured out. And so she began guessing, mouthing the words as best she could.
Imperial?
He didn't answer, but then he didn't need to. She trailed her finger down his long, straight nose. He was definitely Manchurian. Probably of the royal line.
Prince?
He grabbed her hand, pulling it away from his face. "No-Name. You may call me Monk No-Name."
She grimaced at him, but he did not pause. Instead, with a quick, businesslike air, he put her hands against the edges of her robe.
"Remove it so that we may begin."
The Way of the Tigress 1-4 Page 38