The Way of the Tigress 1-4

by Jade Lee - The Way of the Tigress 1-4

She stared at him, momentarily silenced. Then she lowered her eyes, her voice soft but no less passionate. "Do you not understand the ideals of freedom and justice?"

  He sat back down, frustration bleeding away his strength. "Ideals are beautiful things. I was raised on the Confucian ideals, and they are powerful. But when a person risks his life in a revolution, he is either striving for something he desperately wants or running from something he truly hates. You cannot desperately want justice or freedom for China. You know little of our people and our ways. So, Joanna Crane, I ask you again—why do you go so quickly to fight my government? What are you running from?"

  He did not expect her to answer. She had already shown more spirit and intelligence than most men of his acquaintance; he hardly expected her to have a stronger moral character as well. And no man or woman wished admit to their failings.

  But once again he found that he knew nothing of barbarians, and even less about their women. She slowly dropped onto the bed and drew her knees up to her chest, resting her chin atop them. But what was most arresting was her eyes. The only light in the room came from a single candle, and that one flickering flame cast her in a strange glow. He could well call her a ghost person now, because her eyes were haunted and her voice a dry whisper.

  "We were not wealthy before, back in America. My father worked hard, but he could not find a way to make himself rich. And we knew that it would be even harder back in England, where my grandfather was born."

  "So you decided to come to China."

  She nodded. "My father had a cousin who had already made a fortune here. He convinced my father, and my father..." She sighed. "My father packed us up to come to Shanghai. My mother did not want to leave, but my father insisted."

  "That was his right. He is the man and must find a way to feed his family."

  Joanna shrugged. "It was clearly the best choice for him. He's made more money here than he could in ten lifetimes where we were."

  Zou Tun hated that a barbarian could do such a thing in his country—gather wealth like so many grains of rice—when many of his own people were starving. But he knew enough not to begrudge her father. Would not his own people, if given the chance, leave home for the promise of great wealth just past the ocean?

  But when he looked at Joanna, he could see that she was not happy with the outcome. "What happened?" he asked.

  "My mother and brother... the passage was hard on them. My brother became ill on the boat. My mother soon afterward. They did not live more than a week on Chinese soil."

  "Travel is often hardest on women and children," he said. It was a stupid statement, poor comfort at best, callously cruel at worst. But he had no understanding of how to comfort the grieving, and he knew from experience that even the best words did little to ease pain. So all he could do was reach out to touch her hand. She gripped his fingers, her strength surprising, as if she suppressed great pain.

  "Let me hold you, Joanna," he said softly. "If you wish, we could begin your exercises again. Those first seventy-two circles are meant to soothe and calm pain. Especially female pain of tears and loss."

  She turned to him, her expression almost amused. "How like a man to want to escape pain by doing things." She shook her head. "I would think a monk would know better."

  "You seek solitude?" he asked. He well understood the need, but he had not thought she would desire it.

  "No," she said gently. "I buried my mother and brother ten years ago. Their loss was terrible and painful, and all sorts of other things I can't even name. But they are gone and I am at peace with their deaths."

  He nodded. "At least you still have your father, and he you."

  "Yes, we had each other. And he had his work. And that brought money, which brought more things and more people and more"—she shrugged—"of everything into our lives."

  He frowned. "Is that not what you wanted? Wealth?"

  She laughed, the sound bitter. "He wanted money, Zou Tun. I wanted my family. So I clung to him, and he showered me with things."

  He did not understand her tone. "You were unhappy?"

  She lifted her head, looking at him with serious eyes. "What do wealthy Manchu women do with their time? How do they spend their days?"

  He frowned, never having considered the question.

  "Do they read? Do they study science? Do they help with the work of the government?"

  He reared back, appalled. "Most cannot read. They spend their days..." His voice trailed away. What worthwhile thing did they do with their days? "They paint and gossip. They worship Buddha and play spiteful tricks on one another."

  She stared at him, her expression clearly expectant. But he didn't understand. Women were generally silly, spiteful creatures. They enjoyed such entertainments. Didn't they?

  Apparently not, because Joanna simply shrugged. "I am a terrible artist, and I have not been able to devote myself to religion. Even if I did, my father—and your government—would never release me to work with the poor. He fears for my safety."

  "Rightly so!" Zou Tun said, a little more hotly than intended. "But what of a husband? Surely you can bear children by now. And you are not ugly or deformed. Why have you not married?"

  She trilled a false laugh. "La, sir—how you flatter!"

  He grimaced, annoyed with her frivolity. They had been speaking seriously, and now she wished him to flatter her? Before he could respond, she sobered, interrupting his thoughts.

  "You have said that Papa and I have each other. That is true. He has me. He owns me. I am his greatest prize in an entire mansion full of prizes." She looked at her hands, extending her fingers as if to look for a ring. "No man is worthy of me, and so I am trapped with Papa. I have no purpose except to be beautiful, no thought except how to please my father. At least, that is what he thinks."

  Zou Tun gaped at her. "Is that not what all women want? To be praised for their beauty? To bring honor to their homes?"

  She groaned, her head dropping against the wall with a dull thud. "Would you be content with such an existence, Zou Tun?"

  He straightened, insulted. "I am a man!"

  She laughed once more, the sound soft and angry. "Then I am a man as well, because I cannot stand to live there one minute more."

  He leaned forward, needing her to understand. "Do you think it would be different with those bandits? I tell you truly, if they do not kill you immediately, they will spread your legs and use you until you are dead of their attention."

  She flinched at his words, but she did not deny them. She had already admitted that choice had been a mistake. Instead she looked about the room, her expression wistful.

  "I am here. Learning things my father would consider sinful." She glanced at him as if confiding a great secret. "When this is all done, I don't know that he will take me back. I am a tarnished prize now."

  Zou Tun well understood. Wrong as it was, many fathers would bar the door to their children. "I could never do such a thing to my child. Even a foolish girl child. Perhaps your father loves you equally well."

  She smiled, a wistful look in her eye. "Perhaps," she said, though she did not sound as if she believed it. "Either way, I am not sure I wish to return. There is so little for me there, and the world is a very large place. I do not want to be locked away again."

  "You are not afraid?" He could barely understand such a bizarre woman, who did not tremble at the thought of being separated from her protectors.

  She laughed in response, and this time the sound was freer. "Of course I am afraid. But I am nothing at home. At least out here I have the hope of becoming more." Her eyes seemed to sparkle. "I might even become immortal."

  A month ago he would have laughed at the thought. How preposterous to think a barbarian could become an immortal. But he had heard whispers of other immortal women. And one was a barbarian, by all accounts. And though he originally considered this Tigress practice a silliness thought up by silly women, he was beginning to doubt himself. Little Pearl's radiance was hard to de
ny.

  Joanna Crane was a woman of amazing logic and bravery, very manly in such matters. And yet, when he looked at her, even with her knees curled up against her chest, he could think of her only as a woman. An intriguing and beautiful woman.

  "So you wish to pursue this," he said gently.

  She glanced at him in surprise. "I thought that was obvious."

  He shook his head. "I mean to its end point. With dedication and commitment."

  She frowned, still not understanding what he meant. Slowly her expression cleared, her body uncoiling. She glared at him. "You thought I wasn't serious? That this was a casual whim, the actions of a bored little girl?"

  His gaze slid from hers even as he defended himself. "You were blown here by fate. By your mistake and then mine. Perhaps it is easier to stay here than run home. Perhaps to do so is less frightening than an angry father."

  "Perhaps," she said firmly. "But that is not why I chose to stay." She shifted onto her knees, her breasts bobbing beneath her robe. "There is something here, Zou Tun. Something I wish to learn. I have already read some of the Confucian classics. I have learned a little of Buddhist philosophy. It was hard to do so. No one would help me. No one thought it appropriate for a woman. But I wanted to know, Zou Tun. And so I studied as much as I could alone. I read what I could find and what I could translate. But this..." She gestured to the room, toward the entire Tigress complex. "This is something I can study. This is something I wish to know."

  He watched, seeing the passion that burned within her. A bright flame, it was steadier and stronger than he had ever thought to see in a woman, much less a ghost woman. "What of your politics?" he challenged. "What of the revolution against the oppressive Qin Empire?"

  She hesitated, her shoulders drooping slightly. "If I thought I could help, I would consider it. If I thought I could make the world more just, freer, then I would do what I could, no matter the risk."

  "But it is not your fight."

  She sighed, reason finally making her agree. "I could not help China even if I decided to." Her chin lifted, her gaze hitting him with a near physical blow. "But that does not explain you, Kang Zou Tun. You are a Manchurian, a member of the ruling race who has met with the dowager empress." She folded her arms across her chest, looking at him with a seriousness he could not ignore. "I have told you why I ran from my home. What about you? Why are you here instead of in Peking?"

  He didn't answer. Indeed, he couldn't. Not when shame and failure rode him so hard that he could barely breathe. And yet, facing her was like standing before the dowager empress. Joanna had the same force of character, the same manly intelligence, the same qi strength. If he could not answer this barbarian woman, how would he ever face Cixi? Either her or the emperor.

  He didn't know. He had no answers for Joanna or himself. He had nothing except the flat certainty that he needed to find his solution quickly. Time was rapidly running out. Before long he would be standing before his father, the general, and the emperor.

  Then what would he do?

  The Tao created the myriad things, and after their creation, they must still preserve the spirit of the Tao and act in harmony with the Tao. We, too, should be yielding and act in accordance with nature.

  —Lao Tzu

  Chapter 12

  He wasn't going to answer her; Joanna could see it in his face. He had no intention of sharing his innermost thoughts with a barbarian woman. Well, that was just too bad. She had just bared her heart. And her breasts, for that matter. If he wanted her to trust him, he would have to learn to share.

  She leaned back against the wall and stared at him. "Let me make it easy for you, Zou Tun," she said, her voice excruciatingly dry. "You're still working on gaining my trust. This isn't helping."

  "And how long will I be paying that debt, Joanna Crane?" he shot back. "Will I forever be acting as your slave in order to gain your trust? Forever—"

  "I didn't ask you to be my slave. I asked for a simple answer—to the very same question you threw at me not so long ago. Are all Manchurians this prickly?"

  "Yes! We are not accustomed to being questioned by women. And certainly not—"

  "Not barbarian ghost women," she finished for him. "Yes, I know. But you know what else? I am sick to death of everyone thinking I am stupid or insubstantial or uncivilized just because my skin is whiter than yours. So how about this, monk? You will start thinking of me as your equal, or you can walk out that door right now and find yourself a new partner."

  He reared back as if struck. She could tell the thought of a woman as an equal had never before occurred to him. To his credit, he didn't immediately deny the concept. She wondered if it was a measure of his openness to new ideas or his desperation for her as a partner that held his tongue. Either way he sat there, mouth open, while she sighed in disgust. It seemed she spent her entire life trying to prove to someone that she wasn't an idiot. That she was capable of so much more than they thought. She took a deep breath, launching into her defense one last time.

  "I saw through your disguise, didn't I? When no one else had."

  "There was another," he whispered, his voice tight.

  She shrugged. "Fine. One other. Out of how many?" She leaned forward. "I have a quick mind and a willingness to learn. How many of your countrymen—men or women—can claim that?"

  He nodded. "It is true you have shown... unusual intelligence and curiosity."

  "Damned by faint praise," she murmured. Then she decided to take a different tack. "You obviously think I'm capable of being a fit partner for you. In fact, you seem to want me over all those other ladies. Even the Tigress Shi Po." She frowned. "Why is that exactly? What do you see in me that is not available with all those other women?"

  She could see he had even less desire to talk about this than about his reasons for being here in the first place. His expression darkened and his face seemed to twitch, as if he wanted to strike something. Indeed, his entire demeanor darkened, became more threatening. But she was not intimidated. He had once promised to keep her safe, and she believed he would now keep to that vow.

  Besides, he obviously wanted her for some reason. He would not discard what trust they had already established.

  "You might as well stop with the evil eye. I am not intimidated."

  He frowned. "I was not trying to curse you. And contrary to what the peasants believe, Shaolin monks do not practice magic such as the evil eye."

  She blinked. She had meant the phrase as an expression, not as truth. But she could well believe that a superstitious peasant would think fighting monks capable all sorts of things. She shifted to her knees, facing him. "Zou Tun, why do you wish to partner with me above all those other, more experienced women?"

  He sighed, and she could tell that she had won. "I trust you," he finally said.

  She shook her head. "There is more."

  "Trust is no small thing, Joanna Crane. I do not know those women. I do not know their purposes in pursuing this training. I do know that the Tigress Shi Po desires political power. She leads women into the pursuit of immortality by a means not accepted by all. It would be an easy thing to see imperial forces destroy her and her followers."

  Joanna shuddered, pulling her blanket about her shoulders as if it could ward off the chill of his words. "Destroy her? Do you mean kill her?"

  "I mean kill her and all her family. I mean they would execute all of her followers and their families. And seize all of their fortunes, no matter how small." He gestured to the compound outside. "The imperial treasury is perpetually short because of barbarian demands. The empire seeks funds any way it can."

  Joanna felt her eyes widen. "You would do that? You would expose her just because she teaches women about their bodies? And about men's bodies?"

  If Zou Tun's expression was dark before, now it became angry. "I would do no such thing," he snapped. "But others would. And she risks a great deal by bringing me here."

  "So why has she done it?"

  "B
ecause having me on her side could also be a great boon, a great safety for her."

  Joanna was silent for a while, absorbing his words and the political maneuverings he described. It was a world she did not understand. In truth, she did not want to understand it. To think of hidden purposes all the time, to search for gain and loss with every breath, every action—it was too... cluttered a life. And she pitied him for having to endure it.

  "Is that why you are here? To escape the..." How could she phrase it? "All the machinations of power?"

  "Of course not!" he snapped, though she could detect a trace of panic in his expression. "I am a Manchurian bannerman! I would not hide in a woman's skirts just to avoid the running of a country!"

  Odd how the more defensive he became, the surer she felt that she was nearing the truth. "Is that what you are doing?" she pressed. "Hiding in a woman's skirts?"

  His back went ramrod straight. "I am pursuing immortality as a Jade Dragon. What is it," he asked, "you think we are doing?"

  She almost laughed. Still, she answered him. "I am learning what no American woman has ever been taught. Indeed, this is a philosophy that no American man or woman has ever conceived of before."

  His eyes narrowed. "So you believe it is possible? You believe you can reach Heaven through these practices?"

  She hesitated, wondering what she believed. She had been raised in the Christian church. She shuddered to think what her priest might think of what she was doing. "My faith has always been a cold thing, bringing no comfort and little strength."

  "Do not mistake the pleasure of the yin tide for God, Joanna Crane. That would be a grave mistake."

  She agreed. "But why would God give us bodies, give us the pleasure and power in the yin tide, unless it had a purpose?"

  "Attaining Heaven?"

  "Why not? I overheard some of the women talking this morning. They said two of Shi Po's students achieved it. They became immortals." She raised her chin, daring him to deny her next statement. "And that one of them was an Englishwoman."