"Of what use was she?" he asked. "I thought her only purpose was to be a test of the Kang son."
His wife's eyes lowered, and her back slumped. She stared at her bound feet and tugged the edge of their binding. "Last night, the white girl practiced with the Kang son. It was her first time, and yet..."
As Shi Po's voice faded away, Kui Yu finally understood. "She touched heaven," he said. "On her first night of practice, she touched the divine." It was not a question. He could see the truth in his wife's posture.
Shi Po confirmed his guess with her anger, her every word torn from her like entrails. "She is a ghost person, too insubstantial to achieve even the smallest part of what I do!"
Kui Yu nodded, knowing that was what his wife believed.
"But Ru Shan's pet," Shi Po continued, her voice rising in outrage, "she also was a ghost woman, and she became an Immortal! He made me write her name on the tablet!" She gestured angrily at the sacred Tigress records arrayed along the walls of the meditation room.
Kui Yu tried to sum up. "You did not think whites could achieve Immortality. And now two of them—the only two you have ever met—have achieved Immortality in a bare few months, whereas you—"
"The Kang boy's woman is not an Immortal!" she snapped.
No, she wasn't, realized Kui Yu silently. But she had obviously touched a part of Heaven that had come to Shi Po only after years of dedicated study.
"Why is it so easy for the whites?" he asked.
"I don't know," Shi Po answered, her voice breaking. "You know more of them than I. Do you know?"
He had no answer. He knew too little of the process of what she did. He should have paid more attention, but his time had been spent on his businesses. And she had never encouraged his curiosity.
"Is it because they are animals?" Shi Po wondered aloud. "Are they closer to their passions?"
Kui Yu remained silent, waiting to see where she went.
She sighed. "I think..." She swallowed. "I do not think the Emperor has been advised correctly. I think the white people are not fully barbarian."
Kui Yu nodded, but he was shocked. He remembered his own surprise the day he'd reached that conclusion, and now Shi Po had come to share his belief. He felt a glow of a pleasure. "You are wise, my wife, to see clearly what is so obscured to others." And she is strong, he thought to himself. Strong enough to admit when she is wrong, and to adjust her thoughts. Many men he knew would not do so much.
But why would such a revelation lead to his wife's suicide? He felt his chest tighten, frustration making him hasty, even though he knew he should speak with care. "I am sorry, Shi Po. I wish I could be more clever for you, but I am a humble man with a humble mind. Please tell me why you have gathered these things."
"I cannot do it, Kui Yu."
He flinched. She never used his proper name. Never unless her message was dire.
"I will never attain what a ghost pet did in a matter of days." Her distress was obvious not in her face, but in the aimless fluttering of her hands.
"But you study," he said. "You meditate." Indeed, the pursuit of immortality had driven her night and day for months. Which led to one preposterous conclusion: "You plan suicide out of dishonor? Because you failed to reach Immortality?" he asked. He shook his head in disbelief. "What would you say to a student who said such a thing?" he challenged. "You would tell her that only nine Immortals live in China."
"There are other buddhas. More than two hundred. And within the Tigresses—"
He continued without pause. "That not all attain Enlightenment at the same time. You would remind her of the tale of Li Bai and the lady with the iron rod."
Shi Po lifted her head, her eyes brightening with anger. They both knew the story of the old woman who day by day filed down an iron rod to make a needle, and how that had shamed young Li Bai into returning to his studies.
"'Great achievement takes great devotion,'" his wife recited, but she said the story's moral in anger.
Kui Yu ignored it. "Do you abandon your devotion now? After so many years?"
His wife straightened her spine, and he was pleased to see fire light her eyes, even if it was directed at him. "I have nothing but devotion!"
"Then why—"
"I will become an Immortal!"
Kui Yu stared at Shi Po, completely lost. "Dead women cannot become immortal," he said.
She shook her head. "Do you know why we work so hard, my husband? Why we Tigresses study and meditate and practice with such devotion? It is not so we can reach Heaven. I have had the right mixture of yin and yang since I was a young girl. Inside, I know the Immortal merely waits to be born."
He struggled to understand. She'd had the right ingredients for immortality when she was young? But she'd only begun her practice a decade ago, after their last child was born.
"We study, my husband, so that we can return to Earth after reaching Heaven. We discipline our minds and bodies so that we have the strength to rise there and then return to our bodies here in the Middle Kingdom."
"You believe you will be an Immortal no matter what?"
She nodded. "Yes. But one who cannot return."
His eyes widened as he began to comprehend.
"I am tired, Kui Yu. Tired of strengthening myself without testing my reward."
He shook his head, not understanding.
"I will be an Immortal, my husband. If I cannot go and return, then I will simply go." She took a deep breath, straightening her body and returning her gaze to the items before her. "All that remains is the method of my departure."
"Your death, you mean. The way you intend to die."
She glanced up at him, her eyes calm, her lips curved in a sad smile. "You are most wise, my husband. I was confident you would understand."
October 22, 1877
Lun Po—
Attached are my suggestions for your essay. Try to remember that Confucius and Lao Tzu had very different philosophies. Misattributing quotes from The Analects as from The Way will be extremely damaging during the Imperial Examination.
As for me, I have discovered that I can construct bamboo scaffolding in record time. Though I can barely hold a scholar's brush by sunset, the money I make far outweighs the aches. Indeed, the foreman tips me well for standing near the barbarian bosses and listening to their English words. I can speak the foreign tongue better than anyone, so I expect I will not be long on scaffolding construction. But even one day feels like a dynasty, and only a single image keeps my spirit from being completely ruined. You will laugh when you hear this, but understand that my life consists of unending tedium. I must think of something or go mad.
I think of a woman. A girl, really, one who embodies everything that is good and wholesome in China. Someone who is quiet with small feet and a sweet smile. Someone who has no need of painted flowers or wooden butterflies to adorn her hair. A girl who has skin the color of fresh milk and walks with the tiny steps and swaying hips of the greatest Empress.
You know of whom I speak. Pray do not be offended. Simply know that your sister Shi Po has accomplished the greatest thing a woman can. She is an inspiration.
Do not tell her of my foolish thoughts. It will upset her maidenly spirit, and she will think me a foolish, lunkhead coolie. I am those things, of course, while she is a vision of transcendent beauty. And yet without her pure image in my head, I could not survive my long, terrible days.
I must rest now. My writing has deteriorated, and you probably think me drunk. I am, perhaps, but only on endless days spent on bamboo poles and short nights of aches alleviated by memory. Yes, I remember our days studying together and our kind tutor. I still owe him money for all those years of teaching. Even more, now that he allows us to exchange letters through him. Could you not give him a small token for me? My pay will not come for weeks yet, so mother and I have nothing now.
In the meantime, study hard for both of us. One of us should pass the Imperial exam. I pray nightly that it is you. And by day, I remember the greatest
beauty in China.
Your devoted friend,
Kui Yu
A man planted many poplar trees and ordered a child servant to watch them so none was stolen. Ten days passed and no poplars were lost. The man, pleased with this result, asked the child, "You've done a good job. How did you do it?"
The child answered, "I pulled them out every night and hid them in the house."
Chapter 2
Shi Po felt her body relax. She knew a smile curved her lips and softened her expression. Such was always the way when she spoke with Kui Yu; he was a kind man, gentle and sweet, and so she reflected his goodness.
She pitied the women of China who daily struggled with overbearing, brutal men. They did not understand that a woman was strongest when she became mirror reflecting good to good, evil to evil. But she could not teach all women in China. Indeed, her time as an instructor had come to an end. She bowed her head in thanks to Kwan Yin, Goddess of Hope, for gifting her with a gentle husband. And for the knowledge that her students would continue her work in her absence.
When her prayer was done, she lifted her head only to be surprised by Kui Yu's expression. He was staring at her with horror, and she felt her body tighten in reaction.
"Kui Yu," she began awkwardly. "You are angry?"
She didn't know how he felt, or why, and so had no clue what she would reflect. Uncertainty always bothered her.
Her husband shook his head. "I am merely thinking," he said, his words as hesitant as hers. "Tell me your thoughts on the... on these items."
She smiled, pleased he sought her opinion. Indeed, she knew of no other man who would ask questions rather than issue commands. Kui Yu sought truth, and in her reflection of him, Shi Po did the same.
She leaned forward, extending the motion into a kind of bow—a reward for his generosity of spirit. "The hanging rope," she began, lifting the cord, "is the traditional means of a wife ending her life. But I have not dishonored you, so I hesitate to use a method that might suggest I had."
He nodded, but did not interrupt. Indeed, his gaze was so unfocused that she wondered if he was listening at all. Eventually, she continued.
"The poison was my second thought, but that might be misconstrued in one of two ways: First, that I was in error with my herbs—"
"No one would believe such stupidity from you," he argued.
She glanced up in surprise, startled that he knew her reputation among women. "But few truly know my skill. There are those who would assume I was careless."
"Men, you mean."
She nodded.
"You said there was another possibility of mistake," he prompted after a silence.
She bit her lip and her voice dropped to a lower register. "Poison is also a traditional means of murder."
His expression remained bland. Obviously, he had already thought of this possibility. "You don't want people to think I poisoned you."
She smiled sadly. "It might suggest you were too weak to force me to hang myself." She reached out, daring to touch his hand as she spoke. "And I could never stomach such a stupidity."
"My honor has always been safe in your hands," Kui Yu drawled, and Shi Po wondered at his tone. But when she would have protested, he waved her worry aside. Indeed, this was one of the things that most irritated her about her husband. He had no idea how difficult it was to maintain his reputation. Gossip was a daily enemy. But that was the toil of females, and she could not expect a man—even one as intelligent as Kui Yu—to understand.
"So, what of the poisoned dagger?" he asked.
"A single stab," she answered, "deep into my heart. That should be quick and effective, especially with the poison on it. But I expected you home earlier, so it could be done in the daytime." Annoyed, she flashed him a look of reproach. "Now that it is night, others may suspect a thief." Robberies were common, even in this wealthy area of Shanghai where homes were surrounded by walls and guards.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I have already proffered my apology. I came as quickly as I could." He shifted awkwardly. "So now you think to wait until tomorrow? To make it clear that it was not done by a thief in the night."
She grimaced impatiently. "That depends upon you. No matter the method, there will always be gossip. I do not wish my death to be seen as... a failure. I require someone to speak of my dedication and purpose. Of the certainty that I have gone to immortality."
"You want your death to be known as an act of devotion and not cowardice." There was a strange note in his voice, which she had difficulty interpreting.
"That is exactly what I wish," she said cautiously. "Will you help me?"
He did not answer directly. Instead, he reached for the dagger, running his hands over the elaborately carved ivory handle. It was a dragon, designed to fit into a matching tigress cover. When sheathed, the two would form a seamless image of the two creatures wrestling.
As Kui Yu spoke, he idly rubbed his finger down the dragon's spine. "What of our children? You wish me to say this to them? Children do not understand acts of devotion. They will only see that you are not here to kiss them or tend to their needs."
Shi Po shook her head. "Our daughter is safely married and has no interest in me. She will have no concerns after I die. As for our two sons... they have passed beyond my influence." She had no words to express the emptiness that gripped her whenever she passed the boys' room, empty now these last seven months. Traditionally, now was the time for her to shut herself away, to wear dark colors and no longer be seen by the world. After all, her purpose was over. Her children were gone.
"But what of their love for you? Their—"
He stopped speaking at her snort of disgust. Chinese men were not raised to love. Her children were no different. Honor, respect, piety for one's ancestors—these things they understood. Love had no bearing on this discussion.
Her husband paused, his expression carefully blank. "The boys will return from their tutor in a few months. They are becoming men. Perhaps we should ask their opinion on this matter."
"They will return upon my death," she said. "And though they grow quickly, they have not the maturity to understand my decision."
"Your death will disrupt their studies," Kui Yu remarked.
Shi Po frowned. That was one of her worries. A classical Confucian education required long hours of tedious work. It had cut deeply at New Year's to send the boys to live with their tutor until they took the Imperial exam. She ached that she would never see them again. But such an education was crucial, and one could not have both immortality and motherhood. She had raised her children; now was time for her immortality and her sons' progress.
"The boys need not remain at home all forty-nine days of mourning," she said.
Kui Yu shook his head. "You do not understand my point. Even adult men take comfort in their mother's life," he said. "They honor her and remember her—"
"And so they still can," she interrupted. "Especially if she—if I achieve an honorable death."
He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "They are bound to care for her in her old age. Would you take that responsibility from them? Would you intentionally release them from a task that shapes and forms filial character?" He shook his head. "No, your death will disrupt their studies for more than forty-nine days."
She sighed. Even if what he said was true, should she delay her immortality until her sons were grown? Until they were established in Imperial careers? That could take years. Surely Kui Yu did not expect that.
But one look at his face told her he did. Their sons' education was of preeminent importance, their performance on the Imperial Exam of the gravest concern. No good mother would ever harm her sons' paths to success. And yet...
"I cannot wait so long," she said. Then she looked up, doing her best to read her husband's expression. "You exaggerate the impact."
"I assure you I do not," he replied.
"I would never harm my sons," she said, as much to herself as to him.
"I k
now this. That is why I mentioned it. You must understand all the consequences of your actions."
She looked at her hands as she fidgeted with the silk of her gown. "You have always shown me such things." She sighed. "I am glad that I waited until your return."
He did not answer at first, but waited until she looked up, surprised by his long silence. When he did speak, it was to say something completely unexpected.
"I think you misunderstand immortality."
Anger flared in Shi Po, hot and powerful. "Do not seek to instruct me in my faith."
"I seek nothing of the kind," he countered placidly. "I tell you what I believe. And one other thing..." His gaze narrowed on her face. "This story will take only a moment, but it will require you to listen carefully."
Shi Po straightened, insulted. "It is a wife's duty to listen to a husband. She must hear even the things he does not say."
"Of course."
"I have always been a dutiful wife to you. Obedient and respectful. I raised our children to honor you and have carefully managed the household. I—"
"I know you have," he interrupted in soothing tones. "I have never had cause to doubt your honor."
It was a lie, and they both knew it. The very fact that she was a Tigress threw doubt upon her honor, and his by extension. But they never spoke of her practices or her lack of purity when they married. Like so many things in China, ugliness was simply ignored as if it did not exist. So she tried extra hard to see to his needs in all respects. In this way, she honored him for not constantly pointing out her mistakes.
"Will you listen now, Shi Po?" he asked. He waited until her gaze fixed upon his, then said, "Very well. Here is the story..."
And he began a long, wandering tale filled with strange details about building materials and men she had never met. Shi Po did her best to understand, but the niceties of construction and Kui Yu's business were not easy to follow. She narrowed her eyes. Squinting at Kui Yu, she hoped that restricted view would focus her attention. Fewer distractions meant fewer mental wanderings. But still he continued. She opened her mouth to ask a question—anything to stop her thoughts from numbing.
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