Clapping her hands, she called out, "Qi strengthens with each stimulation."
As one the women echoed her words.
Then Shi Po spoke again. "Swallowing from above and quivering from below gathers the qi."
Again the women repeated the words.
"Continual refinement of these will harmonize the qi.
"When the qi circulates, illumination will occur.
"The ancients said, 'Ingest the dragon to move the tiger, absorb the dragon to illuminate the tiger.' "
The lecture continued for twenty minutes while Joanna strained to understand. She could follow the words, but much was strange imagery. What exactly was a Tigress's dew? Or a dragon's cloud? Obviously these women knew, and Joanna felt a keen desire to find out as well.
Then, just as quickly as it had begun, the chanting ended. Shi Po cried out, "Tigresses, twist your tail downward." With a loud snap, the woman clapped her arms straight down against her sides to press her hands against her thighs. All around Joanna, the other women did the same. As one they inhaled, drawing their palms together in front of their hearts. Then each moved her arms in three graceful circles about her face and head, each circle growing larger until the third ended in the first position. Without pausing, the movement became a figure eight, flowing easily as the women's bodies and arms adjusted.
Joanna spared a moment to watch, seeing that the oldest student's body seemed nearly as supple as that of the youngest. She tried to think of any white woman who could move as gracefully. She could not. Corsets and bustles did not encourage flexibility. But what tiny waists these ladies had! It was only now, as their figure eights became twisting Ss, that she realized how trim this exercise could make the body.
The women continued with their movement for some time, at last pausing at the bottom of the motion. All the ladies had become flushed, and the cool room had heated considerably. Joanna thought they were finished, but in a moment Shi Po called out again.
"Tigresses, twist your tail upward."
And so they began again, only this time their palms traced a figure eight that had sprouted another loop. The ladies' hands, pressed firmly together, wove in and around their knees, their torsos, then their heads before looping back the other way. It was a beautiful sight, and Joanna nearly lost herself in simply admiring the three rows of women, all demonstrating supple and toned bodies.
After two more circuits, the women finally stopped, drawing their hands back to their chests before finally allowing them to drop back to their sides.
Joanna expected that every one of the ladies would be short of breath. Indeed, looking at the class, she saw that a few of the younger women were panting. Not so the older women, and certainly not Shi Po. Especially not Shi Po, who turned steely eyes on Joanna.
"You will do this with us now," she said. Then she straightened, looking disdainfully at her younger students. "Tigresses, twist your tail downward."
So it began. Joanna did her best to keep up. After all, she was younger than most of the women here, she was reasonably fit from her daily horseback rides, and she had even studied basic anatomy. She ought to be able to perform a simple series of loops and swirls without difficulty. The pattern couldn't be difficult to master.
But it was. Her hips would not go in the right direction, her balance was always threatened, and her hands would not stay pressed together. Some of the ladies hadn't even tied their hair, and their locks remained a beautiful shimmer down their backs. Joanna's braid flopped into her face and stuck to her sweaty skin.
She performed the full exercise three times, the last two with Shi Po standing behind her constantly flicking a finger into one body part or another. By the end, the Tigress had put both hands on Joanna's hips to steady her as she finished. Then, gasping through her strained throat, Joanna finally put her hands to her sides and silently thanked God she was finished.
Except, she wasn't. Shi Po stood in front of her, waiting. Joanna frowned, wondering what the woman could possibly want when the other ladies were breaking apart to sip from little teacups on a tray. Without thought, Joanna licked her parched lips, desperately wanting a drink. But when she moved toward the tray, the Tigress snapped at her.
"No! Tigresses twist their tails four times." Her eyes narrowed in speculation. "Unless you are too ill for this?"
Nothing on earth would induce Joanna to admit weakness now. She straightened her body and resolved to perform the exercise one last time—without the benefit of following anyone.
It was a miserable experience. Even remembering the patterns, she constantly forgot her elbow movement or hip position or head placement. The only thing that made it bearable was that most of the class was not watching. Instead, their gazes slipped across the room to the monk and his Shaolin exercises. By the time Joanna finished, all but herself and Shi Po were in a rough semicircle, all ogling her Mandarin.
Shi Po noticed it immediately. How could she not when her entire class was practically drooling? Not that he wasn't a beautiful, sweaty man. Tired and irritated as she was, even Joanna couldn't keep her eyes away from her pretend monk as he performed what looked like a mixture of dance and abrupt fighting moves.
He was smooth and controlled. His gestures were powerful. And his muscles rippled beneath his skin in a beautiful dance. He was man in all his glory. And yet he was so much more.
Because what stood out to Joanna was not his sculpted muscles, his bronzed skin, nor even the elegant grace with which he moved. What truly fascinated Joanna and drew her like a moth to a flame was his eyes, that dark, penetrating stare that seemed to see right through her. He had pure purpose in each and every movement, as if his entire being were caught in his practice. And that entire being, focused on his one task, created a center of power and energy that overwhelmed as much as it beguiled her.
In a word, he was stunning. Joanna felt her mouth grow dry with hunger.
"Behold the Shaolin priest in all his glory," called Shi Po without a trace of mockery. Indeed, she sounded admiring, even jealous. "What amazing qi. Purified male yang in all its power, strengthening a qi that radiates like the sun. He can destroy his enemies with such power. Topple stone walls with a single blow." Then her voice dropped. "But he cannot attain Heaven with it. Without our female yin, he is chained to this earth."
Shi Po's words rang through the room. The monk gave no indication he heard. His movements did not stop, though sweat was pouring off his body in a steady stream. And then, with a graceful pulling motion, he finished his work. He drew his hands together at his heart, and—as the Tigresses had earlier—let them flow down to his sides. Only then did he look at the women who surrounded him.
"When body, mind, and spirit are in harmony, when they move as one without thought or distraction, then I am indeed in Heaven," he said.
But the Tigress Shi Po shook her head. "You are in harmony, Shaolin. A wondrous and powerful place to be. But you are not in Heaven. Only we can take you there." She stepped forward, her head canted slightly as she inspected him from head to toe. "I could show you the way. As could many of these other women." She arched an eyebrow in challenge. "Do you wish a different partner?"
Joanna stiffened, fear turning her blood to ice. Was she about to be tossed aside? Would he abandon her? What would be done to her then?
The monk locked gazes with her, obviously thinking through the Tigress's offer. No shift in his body or expression told her that he understood her fears, that he would not push her aside for another. If Joanna could talk, she would have. Indeed, she stepped forward to interfere. But the only sound she could make was a soft mewl, a high, kittenlike noise that would not help her. She did not want to appear weak in front of these women, and so she kept silent and waited. As, indeed, did everyone around her. The other students had shifted at the Tigress's comment, arraying themselves in a variety of subtle positions. All of them were trying in their own particular ways to catch her monk's attention.
Joanna cast a panicked look about her. Many of these women w
ere stunningly beautiful. All of them were skilled in things that Joanna didn't understand. What man could refuse that? What man would chose a virginal ghost woman over a skilled courtesan?
Her monk, apparently. He didn't even glance at the other women. Instead his gaze shifted from Joanna to Shi Po and then to the floor. He bowed slightly. "You selected my partner two days ago. It is a poor student who discards his tutor's choice."
The Tigress's eyes narrowed, and Joanna felt her icy stare. "But attachment hinders flight to Heaven," she stated. She began to walk forward, around the monk. "Love of gold you have obviously overcome. Envy of property and status..." She shook her head. "These things you have discarded."
Joanna's focus sharpened. Obviously the Tigress knew the monk was not what he seemed.
"But what of lust of woman?" Shi Po challenged.
The monk arched an eyebrow at her. "My purity is clear in this."
All around him the women uttered. Even Shi Po allowed herself a smile. "A man locked in a monastery without temptation is not pure, Shaolin. He is merely lacking in opportunity." She stepped closer.
Joanna watched her monk's nostrils flare with the Tigress's scent. She watched his eyes narrow and shift, following Shi Po's willowy movements. There was no doubt about it: Shi Po was not only beautiful but a true seductress.
Still, the monk did not move. He did not so much as lift a finger as the Tigress seemed to stalk him, moving closer and away, near enough that he caught her scent, but then back far enough that he would have to work to catch her.
And still he did not move.
"How will your purity fare when your dragon hungers and the white clouds press for release?" Shi Po stopped directly before him, her body taut with challenge. "Your strength failed you yesterday, and that was only an exercise."
"There is no shame in falling," he countered, his voice and body apparently at ease. "Only in not standing up again."
The Tigress reached out, extending one long nail to trace a delicate pattern across his chest. She took her time, and though Joanna could not see any meaning in the shapes she sketched, she could see the woman's intent. Shi Po was toying with him, challenging him in a cold but very interesting way.
"You will stand up again, Shaolin," she said, her voice a sultry purr. "Again and again and again. But wisdom can be found only in remaining up and staying strong. I wager you will fall by choice. Because you enjoy it. Because the pleasure in it is stronger than the qi that holds you back." Then she pushed him slightly, pressing her' nails into his chest.
If she thought to move him, she failed. His body did not sway; his muscles did not even ripple, though tiny spots of blood welled beneath her fingertips. Instead she pushed herself away, causing her first ungainly movement Joanna had ever seen.
"Partner the ghost woman then," she said with a clear note of pique. "You have no more substance than she." And with that Shi Po clapped her hands, calling the other women to attention. "Tigresses, invert!"
The whole scene seemed to start over. To the side, the monk returned to his drills. In front of Joanna the Tigresses began more exercises that she could barely fathom, much less perform. They arched over backward until their hands touched the floor. They bent the other way, folding forward until their heads were between their knees.
Joanna did as best as she could. But by the time they shifted to the floor, she was completely lost. She simply was not flexible enough to bring both ankles behind her head. Neither could she curl her body so far forward that her chin rested on her crotch.
She tried, though. She attempted all and was reassured to see that many of the other women could not do them either. But Shi Po could, and with a grace that left Joanna feeling an unwelcome twinge of envy.
Whatever her faults, Shi Po could perform amazing physical feats.
Finally the class was over. A servant brought in cold water, which Joanna viewed with desperation. She stepped forward, already anticipating the cool relief for her parched throat, but two women cut in front of her, and a third grabbed her arm, holding her back. She would have jerked away, angrily pulling from their restraint, until she saw what was happening.
The water was for the monk first. Everyone waited upon his pleasure. Unfortunately he hadn't yet noticed what was happening. He was standing, his body a tall, sleek line beaded with sweat. He was not panting and his eyes were closed, and yet he had the air of a man working hard. All eyes were drawn to him.
Then it happened. In the space between one exhalation and the next, he threw off all his energy in a whirlwind of lethal force. Just as when he had first fought off her attackers, his hands and feet moved faster than Joanna's eye could follow. Imaginary foes fell like rain.
All around her the women gasped in awe. Joanna, too, was impressed, but this time she watched more closely, saw more than before. As before, she noticed his focus, his intent. And she tried in her limited ability to see the body movements, the flow of hand and leg.
Then she entered a different place. She didn't know what brought it on—likely exhaustion from her own exercises. But whatever the cause, she began to feel his energy. And without thought she walked forward, directly into the whirlwind.
It was suicide, this mad step into the lethal spin and kick and punch. And yet she had no fear. She sensed his power and would know when the wind gathered in him to explode in her direction.
It was coming. She felt it. She could not see it, but inside her heart she sensed it—so long as she did not think too deeply. She simply walked, approaching steadily. Soon she stood just outside of his reach.
He could extend his blow. She knew that if this were a true fight, his fist would find her, knock her aside like the wildest of tornadoes. But this was practice, and he would not unbalance his power—his qi—enough to reach her.
He continued his spinning kicks and the wind began to gather. She felt it draw him back just before he exploded forward. His fist was the point of the arrow, his body the shaft and the bow. He put all of his force into a single thrust directly at her face.
It stopped an inch short of her nose. She didn't flinch.
She watched as his eyes widened in surprise, his awareness of his surroundings returning enough to find her there.
He drew back with a startled gasp, and she watched as his eyes narrowed, fury building behind his expression. She recognized his thoughts. He was angry at how close he had come to hurting her, obviously doubting his own control. And so, before that same power was unleashed in temper, she bowed slightly to him, then gestured to the side. To the water. To the parched women waiting patiently on his pleasure.
He frowned, and she could tell he was struggling with orienting himself—first to her presence, so close to his practice, and then to the other women waiting on him. Slowly his arm lowered; his body drew into itself as if gathering what remained of his strength.
All waited, holding their breath to learn what would come next. What would he do? Even Joanna trembled a bit inside. She, too, had come back to herself. She just now realized how close she had come to taking a lethal blow. And yet outwardly she remained calm, her appearance poised.
Or so she hoped.
He bowed—once to her, then a second time to acknowledge Shi Po. It was a formal gesture meant to convey respect and thanks. But it was also a slap of disdain, for he acknowledged the white barbarian before the Tigress who housed them.
All around, the women gasped again. Indeed, with all their sighing and gasping, Joanna was rapidly coming to think of them as a Greek chorus. But her attention was more on the monk before her and the Tigress who imprisoned them. And when the monk moved to get water, Joanna accompanied him. As was the custom, she waited until he drank before taking her own cup.
The water was heavenly, as cool and sweet as she had imagined, and a welcome relief to her still-raw throat. It was almost as delightful as the knowledge that in taking her drink before Shi Po, she had declared her status as guest and not prisoner to all who stood around them.
Then it was over.
Shi Po glided forward. The other ladies slid behind her in a line, apparently from most accomplished to least. But since Joanna had already drunk, Shi Po switched the order, gesturing to the youngest of the ladies at the back of the line to come forward and take her water first.
This threw the girl into confusion, as it was obviously not usual. Indeed, the entire line fell into chaos as each lady tried to guess and relay what was sup posed to happen next. All the while, Shi Po's lips pressed into a tighter and thinner line.
Score one for the imprisoned barbarian! Joanna thought. Especially as she watched her monk's eyes sparkle with silent delight.
Unfortunately, her victory was short-lived. The line sorted itself out. The women drank their water, and Shi Po was soon back in control of the situation. She barely even glanced at Joanna as a servant brought a long silk case. The other women obviously knew exactly what was happening, and they quickly arranged themselves in a rough semicircle. Clearly the Tigress was about to teach, as she pulled a long, slender scroll from the pouch.
Joanna glanced at her monk, but his face was impassive. He stood casually, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. Taking her cue from him, she decided to stand, too, neither part of the class nor too distant from it.
Shi Po began to speak.
Modesty wins adoration. By doing things for others, you can accomplish your own ideals.
—Lao Tzu
Chapter 8
The Tigress began simply. Folding her feet beneath her, she bowed her head and spoke.
"Sex is a powerful force. Like a wild horse, it must be trained and harnessed before use. Most religions ignore the wild horse, preaching total abstinence in the hopes that it will disappear." She lifted her head, looking directly toward the monk. In return, he nodded his head, acknowledging her statement.
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