My Splendid Concubine
Page 47
“Guan-jiah, I want to see what opium has done to China. Do you know a family that uses it?”
“No, but I will find one.”
Several days later, Guan-jiah took him to visit a Chinese family where everyone had been addicted to the drug. The house was dark and had a sour smell that came from unwashed bodies. The stench was so bad that Robert had to cover his mouth with a wet cloth scented with jasmine.
“I paid fifty yuan for them to let us into their house,” Guan-jiah said. He lighted a candle. The meager light revealed that the house was filthy. They moved from room to room. Robert saw an army of cockroaches and a few rats. He gasped and staggered back in horror when he discovered that the seven family members had no lips. Before the tour was over, he realized that there were no young children.
Once they were outside breathing fresh air, Guan-jiah said, “Lin discovered that the only way to stop people from smoking opium was to cut their lips off. That way they could not close their lips around the stem of the opium pipe and suck.”
“I didn’t see any children. In every Chinese house I’ve visited, there have always been children. Why not here?” He was afraid of the answer.
“They sold them to buy more opium,” Guan-jiah replied.
Robert swallowed the bile that rushed into his throat and stiffened his resolve to learn more. He could not turn his back on this tragedy. Because he had helped smuggle opium into China when he worked in Ningpo, he felt responsible. There had to be something he could do. But what?
That night, he sat in the bathtub twice as long and scrubbed his skin with a bristle brush until his flesh glowed pink. Near the end of his bath, he recalled some advice Uncle Bart gave soon after Shao-mei had been murdered.
“Wait for an opportunity to surface,” Uncle Bart had said. “Then you will get what you want. Even if years or decades must pass, it is the Chinese way.”
The next day, before work, Guan-jiah continued the lesson. “After the Opium War in 1842, the emperor was forced to sign a treaty allowing the foreign devils to open five treaty ports to trade.”
“I know that much,” Robert said. “And now, the American, French and British are demanding that the treaty from the Opium War be renegotiated.
He was aware that a combined English and French expeditionary force was marching on Peking to force the emperor to ratify the new treaty, which would open more of China to Christian missionaries and opium and explained why the emperor had fled beyond the Great Wall into Mongolia.
The fact that Britain and France were linking opium and Christianity in the same treaty upset Robert. How could any true Christian be part of such a horrible thing? No wonder a Chinese Christian convert had started the Taiping rebellion and wanted to rid China of opium too.
He felt helpless. If the emperor could not stop the opium trade due to smuggling and the military superiority of Britain and France, what could Robert do from Canton?
Two days later, he was ready to learn more. “How many Chinese lost their lips like that family?”
“Thousands,” Guan-jiah replied. “Commissioner Lin was desperate to stop the spread of opium addiction. The emperor was concerned. Since the family is China’s foundation, if enough families are ruined, China is doomed. The culture will collapse.”
He couldn’t sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the grotesque, lipless faces of that Chinese family. Before morning, he vowed to do whatever he could to end or restrict the opium trade in China.
On a Saturday in February, he was busy at work when Guan-jiah came to the custom’s building to report that Chow Luk had arrived unexpectedly. Ayaou wanted him home as soon as possible. Worried, he put his paperwork away. Another tragedy must have struck Ayaou’s family. That usually meant it was going to cost money.
Before he left the office, he took his pistol from a desk drawer and slipped it into his jacket pocket. No matter what his sympathies were regarding China and the opium trade, he still looked like a man with a big nose and the wrong color skin.
There were Chinese, especially among the Christian Taiping rebels that hated everything foreign because of the opium trade. No wonder so many Chinese called foreigners devils, he thought. After he reached the house, he had to be patient and listen to Chou Luk while he talked in circles before discovering the reason for the visit.
“Cousin Weed was taken by the Longhaired Bandits,” Chou Luk finally said. “They are holding him for ransom. If they are not paid by the end of this month, they will behead him.”
Robert did not ask the expected question. How much was this going to cost him? It was easy to guess what was coming. Ayaou and her family saw him as a river of silver taels that could solve their financial problems. After all, he was already paying for the crucial repairs to the family junk.
Ayaou cleared her throat. She was staring at him with her lips pressed tight and her eyes looked glassy. The pressure he felt stirred up a nest of resentful hornets inside his head. The Taipings were sure to ask for a huge ransom, which might be more than he could pay. At the same time, he did not see how he could borrow the money without going to Captain Patridge, which he refused to do. He would not help smuggle more opium into China, not after witnessing the horror of that family without lips.
“The Longhaired Bandits demand five thousand yuan to release Weed,” Chow Luk said. “I have come to borrow the money.”
Knowing the Chinese as well as he did, he was sure that Chow Luk had been waiting for him to offer first. A son-in-law with resources was expected to do that without question. By not making the offer without being asked, he was not showing proper respect to Ayaou’s father.
Robert fought back the harsh words that climbed his throat. He cast a sideways glance at Ayaou—afraid that she would guess what he was thinking. She was sitting in a chair staring at the floor with her hands folded on her lap.
Her head came up. She saw him watching her. The look in her face changed, and her eyes started to give dangerous flashes of light. He frowned and looked away. If she had used a softer approach instead of looking so judgmental, he might have tried to reason with her and Chou Luk.
“I don’t have that kind of money,” he replied, controlling both his voice and the expression on his face. How could he tell Chow Luk and Ayaou that he could not help because of the opium trade? He would not save one man while destroying the lives of thousands. He knew Ayaou and Chou Luk would never understand his reasoning. A banker he’d known in Ningpo had once offered advice that explained everything. The banker had said, “After all, in China whom can you trust except family?” That translated into family comes first and was more important than a bunch of strangers.
“Ayaou told me that you have an account in Hong Kong,” Chou Luk said, and his eyes darted to Ayaou for support. She made an aggressive noise in her throat that said she was angry.
This stiffened Robert’s resolve not to yield. Despite his earlier desire to stay calm, he became upset and the angry hornets spewed from his mouth. “The household expenses are great,” he said, trying to infer that his money was none of Chou Luk’s business. “I have other financial obligations. My family in Ireland also needs my support. I send money to them regularly, which means I don’t have that much on hand.”
Why couldn’t he say what the real reason was? He knew the answer immediately. Chou Luk and his family had been involved in the opium trade for decades. They would not understand Robert’s moral dilemma. In fact, far too many Chinese were involved in the opium trade and saw nothing wrong.
“You are a man of growing influence,” Chou Luk said. “I heard that your pay increased by one thousand pounds a year? In China, that makes you a very wealthy man. Certainly, you can go to the moneylenders.”
Robert placed his elbows on his knees and leaned toward Chow Luk in a menacing gesture. His hands curled into fists, and his eyebrows lowered into storm clouds. “I won’t borrow!” he said. He cast a dark glance at Ayaou. He felt his upper lip curl into a sneer. He focused his
attention back on her father. She should not have told Chou Luk how much he earned. It was none of the old man’s business.
Chou Luk leaned away from him. Robert sensed that Ayaou had leaped to her feet. He refused to look at her. She was probably shooting flames and smoke from her eyes.
“How did Cousin Weed get himself into this mess?” he asked. His voice sounded frigid. He knew that he should avoid this subject, but he could not help himself. “Was he smuggling opium up the Pearl River? Did the Tapings catch him doing that?”
Chow Luk’s eyes darted away from Robert. “It does not matter what Cousin Weed did,” he said. “What counts is that a member of our family can no longer support his wives and children. Ayaou said it is your duty to help.”
So, it was opium, he thought. “What about the junk? Did the Taipings get that too?”
“The junk is having its hull scraped,” Chow Luk replied. “Weed took a smaller boat.”
“Of course,” Robert said. “I should have remembered. After all, I am paying for that.” His voice sounded shrill.
Then his anger dissipated like a lanced blister so the fluid drains out. How could he blame Ayaou’s family for taking part in the opium trade? They weren’t the only Chinese involved. There was a lot of poverty in China and smuggling opium was a way to survive. The merchants kept the lion’s share. They paid the Chinese barely enough to feed themselves. It wasn’t fair but the world was not a fair place.
In a much calmer voice, he said, “I liked his father, Uncle Bark, and I like Cousin Weed too. I wish I had the money, but I do not. I am sorry. I cannot help.”
With guilt nibbling at his heels, he avoided eye contact with Ayaou and retreated from the room. To the Chinese, family came first, but he’d been raised to live within his means. His father was a frugal man who avoided the moneylenders and had always managed to save even with the expenses that came from raising twelve children.
The opium trade was the primary reason Robert could not help. If Robert produced the ransom, he would be just as guilty as the rest of the smugglers.
He found Anna downstairs with Fooyen. He picked his daughter up, and she threw her arms around his neck, which became a bit of sunlight driving the storm clouds away—at least for the moment.
He had a thought. What if Anna grew up to become addicted to opium? What if she had her lips sliced off too? That horrified him, and he held her tighter. “I love you,” he said, and she drooled on him.
He didn’t want Ayaou angry with him, but what could he do? He was not responsible for this situation. The opium trade was. Seeking tranquility, he took Anna into Guan-jiah’s garden and stood listening to the water cascading down the boulders and to the wind rustling the trees and the bamboo.
That night, after Chou Luk left, Ayaou displayed her unhappiness by sleeping in another bedroom.
In the morning, feeling empty and tired from a night where he didn’t sleep, Robert left the house while it was still dark and went to work.
Hours later, Captain Patridge arrived unannounced and walked into the middle of Robert’s ugly mood. Considering what he had learned about the opium trade, Patridge wasn’t a welcome sight. For a moment, he was tempted to shoot the merchant.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, suspecting that he was not going to like the answer. Was it possible that Chou Luk had gone to Patridge? If so, like a leech, Patridge had smelled blood. Over the years, Robert had discovered that Ayaou was right about this man. Money was all Patridge was interested in.
“Business!” Patridge replied, in his usual no nonsense way.
Living and working among the Chinese had made Robert more accustomed to talking in circles. He didn’t like Patridge’s directness. He had to calm down and walking usually accomplished that. He suggested they take a walk. Besides, if he decided to shoot the man, he didn’t want witnesses.
“Whatever happened to Unwyn?” Robert asked, not wanting to talk about Patridge’s business.
“Why should you care about a bastard like him?” Patridge replied. “You had a disagreeable incident with him during that fight with the Taipings. I’ve heard that Unwyn is making a name for himself as a smuggler and a thief. I would forget about him if I were you. He’s nothing but trouble.”
“I was curious.”
They walked on in silence.
After a few blocks, Captain Patridge said, “I heard that Ayaou’s family needs money. The Tapings are holding a cousin hostage and demanding ransom. Since you are in a position to increase my profits, I can help. We need your assistance to ship opium inland. We will pay you handsomely.”
He had guessed right. Ayaou and Chou Luk had contacted Patridge. He realized that if he hadn’t learned the history behind the opium trade from Guan-jiah, he might have agreed. He took out his black porcelain, hand sized spittoon with a hunting tiger on its side and spit into it.
“With the unrest in China because of the Taiping rebellion and a war starting with Britain and France, it is getting increasingly difficult to do business here,” Patridge said.
Robert stopped walking. It was all he could do to keep his anger from appearing on his face. “As far as I’m concerned, any business I had with you was terminated the day I stopped working for the British.”
Patridge opened his mouth.
“I don’t want to hear what you have to say,” Robert said, “You wasted your time coming to Canton.” He wanted to say something more acerbic but controlled his tongue. He realized that news of this would reach Ayaou and Chou Luk. They would apply more pressure. He refused to help free Cousin Weed by allowing more opium into China. The faces of that lipless Chinese family flooded his thoughts and sickened him.
“Well—” Patridge said. His face had turned red and started to swell. He sputtered as if he had been insulted. “You have not paid the debt you owe, and we want to negotiate an extension. As an assistant commissioner in China’s customs service, you are more valuable now that the emperor is being so stubborn. We will pay more than we paid before.”
“Our business is ended, Captain Patridge. If you feel I owe you money, send me an accounting.”
“It isn’t going to be that easy,” Patridge replied. “We signed a contract. You have taken bribes for years.”
Robert hated losing control. As his temper started to reach the boiling point, he forced himself to look calm. Patridge would not see or hear the anger he felt. He slipped a hand into the pocket where he kept his pistol. He should shoot this devil for the crimes he had committed. Maybe doing that would save a few Chinese families from the ravages of opium. He was sorely tempted to squeeze the trigger.
“If it hadn’t been for that distasteful business with Ward over Ayaou,” he said, “our business relationship would never have taken place. If you want to report our transactions to the British consulate, that is up to you. I doubt that anyone will listen since most of them are also involved.
“However, it wouldn’t matter even if they listened to you. My current employer is the emperor, and he does not want opium in China. His interests are mine.
“Why don’t you approach Horatio Lay in Shanghai and see if he will cooperate? After all, I am only Deputy Commissioner of Customs in Canton. Lay is Inspector General, and he would be more valuable than I am. He outranks me.”
He already knew what had happened between Horatio and Patridge, but he wanted to discover how Patridge would respond. He forced his hand to relax and pulled it from the pocket where he kept the loaded pistol. He was not going to add murder to his sins.
“It was easier dealing with both of you when you worked for the British and were poorly paid. Lay’s answer was the same as yours. But your situation is different because of General Ward and the threat he poses to Ayaou.”
“This meeting is over,” Robert said. What he wanted to do was take Patridge by the throat and choke him. “I intend to have no business with merchants who import opium into China. I will hire only men who will support the emperor’s policies. Good day, sir.�
�� Turning his back on Patridge, he started to walk away.
“You can’t leave that easily,” Patridge said with a menacing tone.
Robert spun around and jabbed a finger at him. “You mentioned Ward’s name,” he said, “so I’ll mention one. Shao-mei! I counted on you to keep Ward away from my girls. Where was that protection when he murdered her?” He glared.
Patridge avoided eye contact.
“Don’t bother me again, Captain Patridge.”
Chapter 40
Work ended well after dark, and he walked the short distance home hoping Ayaou’s mood had changed for the better. If Patridge or an assassin appeared, he was ready and kept a hand on the pistol in his jacket pocket.
He now considered Patridge a threat to his safety and the safety of his family. But as a highly placed offical in the imperial government, he had ways to protect himself and his family that he didn’t have when he had been a British interpeter in Ningpo. If Patridge aimed Ward in his direction, Robert would use his growing ties to the Manchu rulers of China to deal with the mercenary.
He reached home and entered the front hall where Guan-jiah waited with a sober look on his face, which did not bode well.
“Where’s Anna?” Robert asked. She and Fooyen were usually waiting in the front hall or first courtyard. Guan-jiah handed Robert a note written in Chinese. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Master,” Guan-jiah said in a strained voice, “I suggest you read the note.”
“What do you mean? Have you already read it?”
Guan-jiah nodded. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he opened the note.
“I am asking you to release me as your concubine.” Ayaou’s shaky handwriting revealed her emotional state. She must have been crying. He brought the paper closer to his eyes. It looked as if there were stains from teardrops. “You have insulted my father. I am going back to Macao and taking Anna and Fooyen with me.”