Master Wu's Bride

by Edward C. Patterson

  “I will do it, my mistress’ brother.”

  Chi Sheng laughed, and then hobbled forward. He turned to Chi Lin as he reached the threshold.

  “Our sister could have been a great lady of the house — a ghost bride like you. What she would say if she saw you now?”

  “She is settled, brother. We are unlikely to encounter her again.”

  But here Chi Lin was wrong, because sometimes Heaven moves events to cancel such sureties deemed unlikely encounters.

  Chapter Eight

  Last Settlements

  1

  Sapphire had taken to stranger ways. Chi Lin kept a constant watch on this daughter, who would creep about in the shrubbery spying upon the household, particularly Yu Li and Chi Sheng. Yu Li complained to Mi Tso-tze that Sapphire sometimes jumped in her path and tried to block the way, shaking her dolly at her. It quite frightened little Butterfly. Chi Sheng did not mind the girl, because, as he stated, she is a lost soul and needs to find purpose in this world. If that purpose is to spy on an old cripple scholar, who am I to contradict nature? Chi Lin did not accept this explanation.

  Sapphire would take runs at the servants when they least expected. She sang songs out of tune and would sneak into the kitchen and steal a bun, a thing she could have in plenty and need not steal. Reports came to Chi Lin, several a week, if not a few in any given day. She was perplexed and sent again for Ying Ling.

  “Surely there is a place for our Sapphire,” she said to the familiar marriage broker.

  “Surely,” Ying Ling answered. “But not in this county unless she is cast out to fend for herself.”

  “That would bring shame upon the house.”

  “No more shame than an unmarried daughter would.”

  Still, Ying Ling agreed to speak to Gu Sha, the mei-ren of adjacent Tai-p’ing County.

  Meanwhile, Chi Lin had another marriage in mind, one which Ying Ling was already investigating, when Wu Ming-kuan returned home for a visit. Chi Lin was always thrilled to see her flesh and blood nephew, even if he did not regard her as his mother. He had grown tall, strong from ship work, smart from his able sea master’s instruction and ready to command a ship of his own. Still, he was not married; and was overdue.

  Wu Ming-kuan arrived on a golden steed who he named Shore Master. He kept the beast stabled most of the year, a ship’s deck more his metal now. However, his apprenticeship included riding as well as sail craft and map reading. His instructor had not always been a sailor and knew the refinements of riding and husbandry. So Wu Ming-kuan came ashore once a moon and rode Shore Master. When he would command his own ship, he meant to take the beast on board.

  “I will construct a stable on my ship, Auntie,” he declared, “and keep it fresh with hay and stocked with sorghum. When at sea I will not be able to ride him, but we shall explore many lands together, Shore Master and me.”

  Chi Lin was happy that Wu Ming-kuan had not lost his imagination. He wanted this horse and he would have him. If meadows were not on board, he would sail to them and tear up the hillocks ashore. But he would be better to have a wife on board than a horse, if not both. It was inevitable that Chi Lin would broach the topic.

  “It is time for me to settle your wedding to a girl of good property, now that you are the only one remaining unmarried,” she said.

  “I am not the only one,” Ming-kuan replied, pouting. “My sister is still in the household. She must be settled first, I would say.”

  “You would say it, but you would be wrong.”

  “But, Auntie. I am a man of the sea. I will not be overseeing salt or silk. I am the Third Son and less obliged to do so.”

  Chi Lin turned away. She could not believe Ming-kuan’s thinking.

  “You do not stand in line after the daughters of this household,” she said, sourly. “And you are obliged to marry as any Wu son. Your wife will bring income to the household; also respect and honor. And, if Heaven wills it, she will bear your sons.”

  “She will be a burden,” he snapped. “I will be away at sea and she will on my brother’s hands.”

  “She could go with you,” Chi Lin countered. “There is no reason for a man to be separated from his wives, unless he is a ghost. Your uncle moves from war camp to war camp and his family follow upon his heels.”

  “To have a woman on a ship would not do, Auntie.”

  “Is it written?”

  “It would be unfair. It would be a hard life for her.”

  Chi Lin bubbled over, but caught her anger as only a mother could. How much harder would a life aboard a ship be than a life within the walls of a house? A woman’s life is hard by nature. For Ming-kuan to use this as an agreement was disingenuous — an excuse to postpone his wedding. Suddenly, Sapphire appeared at the door. She pointed at her brother, laughed, and then ran away.

  “What conduct is that?” Ming-kuan asked.

  “It is her way, my lord,” she said, and then blew a hostile whistle to quell her frustration. “Sapphire has no hope for marriage.”

  “But she must,” Ming-kuan said. “She will bring dishonor upon the house.”

  “Yes, and then where would your chances be?” Chi Lin patted the air, and then took solace in a tea cake. “I will discuss your wedding with your father. I will employ a priest to divine his will. And you must go to the shrine and ask his guidance.”

  Wu Ming-kuan bowed low at this suggestion. It ended all discussion and put him in his place. He departed quietly, leaving his Auntie to her frustration. She knew he would come around. He had no choice. If fa-shr and prayers at the shrine did not move him, his elder brother would lay down the law. And if that failed, there was always Wu San-ehr.

  “Mistress,” Tso-tze said, coming to her side. “Do you mean to visit the silk ji-tzao today?”

  “No. Nor will I sew or mend chairs. The older children of the household have always been a revelation to me. But the younger ones prefer to do as they please.”

  “You are too good to them.”

  “Perhaps, so. But can you blame me with Wu Ming-kuan?”

  “Surely, he will come around.”

  “He needs a stern hand when out of sight. I pray to Guan-yin that he has one. As for Sapphire, she must be settled before the Moon Festival — before the smaller ones begin to follow her example.”

  And so it came to pass.

  2

  The settling of Sapphire went beyond Chi Lin’s arrangements, into a zone where men had say and women had none. Wu Lin-kua was a thoughtful man and sensitive of the family’s honor and how it would reflect on his ever-growing family. Respectability was a key to success with his tenants and the maintenance of the monopoly. So, to have an unmarried sister would not do.

  Since Auntie Purple Sage had failed to arrange things as they should be arranged in Sapphire’s case, Wu Lin-kua considered another path. It was not a casual path, but one that his newly arrived guest — Chi Sheng, had inspired. As it happened, Wu Lin-kua admired his former accountant and would visit the invalid’s simple house in the Silver Silence. Chi Lin’s brother was a keen xiang-chi player. Wu Lin-kua missed playing the game with Wu Chou-fa, now that his brother lived in the Villa, and the journeymen were poor at the game or would let him win because he was The Master of the House. Chi Sheng had held no such deference when it came to strategic board games. He would lose as many times as he won, which made for an enjoyable afternoon for both men. During such gaming, Sapphire sometimes peeked in and made animal noises to distract them. While Chi Sheng found it amusing, Wu Lin-kua did not — a reminder that his sister was not only still on his hands, but was also a handful. It was during a game of xiang-chi that Chi Sheng suggested an honorable solution, a strategic way to solve the Wu family’s problem.

  Chi Lin had not known of her brother’s suggestion or that Wu Lin-kua entertained it until it was no longer a suggestion but a fact. However, the course of action did not surprise her entirely. It was a common course known to her already. But when it came to it, she was surpris
ed.

  On afternoon, Chi Lin’s brother hobbled on his crutch to the pavilion with Po Bo’s aid, but did not enter. He sent word to his sister.

  “Mistress,” Mi Tso-tze said. “Someone has arrived in the courtyard. Your brother has sent me to ask you to attend. The Master of the House is here also.”

  Chi Lin could not imagine who had come and why both Wu Lin-kua and Chi Sheng would attend. But her wondering was worth nothing while her curiosity piqued. She was summoned. So she donned her common robe — the purple one that marked her as the ghost bride, and emerged into the sunlight.

  Standing in the courtyard was a thin figure dressed in black, a bamboo basket strapped on the back. The person’s head was shaved and, at first, Chi Lin could not tell whether this was a man or a woman. But when she drew closer she could see it was a woman — a nun, the beggar kind, who wore straw sandals and saffron-dyed undergarments.

  Chi Lin’s heart leaped. As she approached the woman, she recognized the face, albeit a gaunt version of a former ample visage and, now, with a bald head, quite avian in appearance.

  “Sister?” Chi Lin whispered, her voice hitching. “Chi Tsai, is that you?”

  The nun clasped her hands together, raised them to her forehead and bowed.

  “I am now known as Sister Marsh Wren,” Chi Tsai replied. “Because I am formed by the salt plain, my chapter has renamed me so.”

  Chi Lin turned to her brother. She did not need to ask.

  “She is here at our request,” Wu Lin-kua explained.

  “She is here for Sapphire,” Chi Sheng added.

  Chi Lin understood. She could see Sapphire in the distance, peeking from behind a barrow, trying to discern who had come into the courtyard, no doubt. Chi Lin also sensed Po Bo’s distress as he realized that Sapphire was destined for the monastery.

  “Sister,” Chi Lin said, confused whether she should embrace her. “Come into my ke-ting and be refreshed.”

  “Although it is good to see you and see you thriving,” Chi Tsai replied, “I cannot renew our acquaintance on such terms. I am here to take the girl. I have my begging bowl for cold fare. It is our way. I cannot trouble you without breaking my vows.”

  “But you have come so far and on foot.”

  “Only two days, mistress. Only two days. Such a stroll is mild for the handmaidens of Lord Buddha.” She turned to Wu Lin-kua. “Where is the girl, my lord?”

  Wu Lin-kua, who had also spotted Sapphire’s hiding place, nodded in her direction. Chi Tsai bowed again to her sister and brother, and then walked to the barrow, where Sapphire stirred.

  What transpired amazed all present. Sister Marsh Wren approached the girl, who cowered at first. The nun spoke, and then sat at the barrow’s edge, Sapphire entranced by whatever was said. Chi Lin could not hear the words and dared not ask. In fact, Chi Sheng and Wu Lin-kua kept their silence also.

  After two watches — late in the afternoon, the nun returned to the foot of the verandah, now with Sapphire in hand. The daughter of the house appeared bewitched — calm, but lucid, her dolly dangling from her hand. She looked to her brother and her Auntie, and then smiled.

  “We have come to an understanding,” Sister Marsh Wren said, bowing again. “She shall come to the temple. We shall send her robes and shoes back after her induction, but she may keep her play doll for three moons after which she will present it as a cherished gift to Lord Buddha. Your household will be blessed if you honor your arrangements.”

  Wu Lin-kua stood.

  “Holy sister,” he said, “the House of Wu will send your temple two cold feasts each year on the second day of the second moon and the tenth day of the tenth moon. We will also donate a silver ingot each year to the poorest of our tenants in the name of my sister.”

  “It is good,” the nun replied. “We shall go.”

  Chi Lin was stunned. She watched her sister depart with Sapphire through the gates of the Silver Silence never to see either again. She was disquieted by her sister’s pious chill and Sapphire’s strange calm. Mistress Purple Sage suddenly felt old — her age, perhaps, and no place to breathe in life’s narrow disparity.

  As the sun set, no one moved. Silence reigned upon the verandah, the settlement thus completed. Silence reigned except for Po Bo’s gentle weeping as he inherited silence itself.

  Chapter Nine

  The Grand Director

  1

  The Yung Lo Emperor, the former Prince Chu Di, had a grand scheme for his Ming Dynasty. His father, the Hung Wu Emperor, ruled with an iron fist and secured the realm from the Mongol predecessors, but more so from a wave of rebellions at the Yuan Dynasty’s collapse. Hung Wu’s successor, the Chien Wen Emperor was small peas compared to the ambitions of his uncles, the founding emperor’s sons and, although Chien Wen managed to defeat many intrigues, he succumbed to Prince Chu Di’s occupation of Nan-jing, ostensibly to protect his nephew, but ultimately to eradicate him. Then the new Emperor raised his sights on five projects. He would move the capital north to his former stronghold at Yen-chou, rename it Bei-jing and construct a great palace there — a forbidden city of nine thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine halls and pavilions. He would restore the Grand Canal so this new capital could be supplied with the grain wealth of the south. He would repair and reconstruct the long wall to the north to maintain the boundary between the civilized Han peoples and the wild folk of the steppes and forests. He would lock his nephew away in a monastery and formally eradicate the Chien Wen year period from the history annals. Finally, he would build a great fleet of one-thousand one-hundred and eighty ships, including sixty-two ocean-going vessels, each five-hundred chi in length — veritable palaces on the sea. To these he appointed General Cheng Ho, a favored palace eunuch and war hero, to become the Grand Director of the Seas, to sail forth as envoy to the kingdoms and islands to the south.

  Chi Lin knew nothing of these great doings until it was announced that the Grand Director was coming to the ports of Po-hai bay to inspect the shipping in preparation for a voyage from Su-chou. Cheng Ho would be stopping in Yan-cheng and the Wu household was selected to entertain the Grand Director on his course toward the ports.

  Chi Lin had been busy at other pursuits. There were repairs in progress at the silk ji-tzao and also a tour of the salt works. Chi Lin was feeling the effects of the tour, her joints beginning to ache more and more with the jostling. But as Queen Crane, in her feathered hat, her presence among the tenants raised spirits and secured stability. With the boom in ship building at the port towns, many tenant sons were drifting to the coves and learning to be joiners and sail makers. Hemp spinning and resin making kept many employed and much silk was transformed from the looms into sails.

  Chi Lin also had domestic issues to settle. Po Bo moped after Sapphire. In fact, Chi Lin was saddened by the abrupt departure of the daughter of the house. Honor may have been preserved, but the sight of the pretty girl dashing about making faces and swinging her dolly was missed. As necessary as it was, Chi Lin felt it was unfair. She also felt failure. She was unable to broker a match for Sapphire, while the men, in a more direct design, removed embarrassment by literally removing the source. As for Po Bo, he was slack in his duties. Chi Lin made allowances, but her high hopes for the new custodian forced her to confront the situation.

  “You must marry, Po Bo,” she said to him, a commandment, not a suggestion.

  “If it must so, mistress,” he said. “But my mind will always be distracted.”

  “If it must be so,” she replied. “But be fair to your new wife as she will be the mother of your children.”

  Po Bo sighed, but did not protest. He knew who was selected before being told. Yu Li, the selected, was more willing to the arrangement. She had expressed fond feelings for Po Bo both directly to him and to Mi Tso-tze, who favored the match also. With Sapphire out of sight, it was assumed Po Bo’s misplaced feelings would settle into something more appropriate. Despite his distraction, Yu Li was willing to earn her place. Chi Lin reasone
d that, unlike family, servants could bond before their marriage. There was never any contract at stake. It was always a matter of proximate arrangement and convenience.

  Before Po Bo and Yu Li could be join, however, the announcement came that the Grand Director was coming. So it was decided to wait on the marriage ceremony until after the distinguished guest’s visit. Po Bo was content in this. With the flurry of activity in the household now, such an event as a servants’ wedding would be missed entirely. Yu Li was distressed, but was consoled.

  “Child,” Chi Lin said. “Neither you nor Po Bo are going anywhere. You will be too busy to settle into married life while we are preparing for the great visit, so it is better to wait. Then you can savor that which should be savored.”

  Of course, Chi Lin did not speak from experience, but she had managed enough weddings to know the tug and pull it could have on couples, especially if they already had each other’s acquaintance. Yu Li just sighed and accepted the postponement. What else could she do?

  2

  In honor of Cheng Ho, Wu Lin-kua ordered a feast be set in the Jade Heart Pavilion and invited prominent neighbors to dine with the Grand Director. Of course, Wu Chou-fa shared a place of prominence with his brother as did Ai-lo Wun-kua and his sons, and the superintendent, Chou Mai-xin. As a special dispensation, Lotus was hauled there on her chair and Chi Lin was allowed a place at the hall’s far end beside Honeysuckle and Moon Flower. Wine flowed freely, as did tea and buns. Plates of pork, chicken, dolphin, pangolin, eels and blooded veal were served in plenty. Cheng Ho ate heartily and complimented every dish by drinking a bucket of wine.