by Celeste Lim
It was obvious she had just woken up, and as she slowly descended the stairs and sat herself at the nearest table, I hurried over to wait on her.
“My girl, can you please pour me some hot tea?” she asked.
Her smile, though brief, was warm, and I couldn’t help liking her. The rumors about Chang Er being a jing in disguise were just nonsense. Although such an occurrence wasn’t unheard of, how could such a nice woman possibly be the manifestation of a malevolent jing?
When I came back with a pot of steaming tea on a tray, Chang Er was still rubbing the side of her head. I filled a white porcelain teacup with steaming jasmine tea.
“Your tea, Jiejie,” I said with my head bowed as I handed Chang Er the cup with both my hands. Then I moved behind her and began to massage the back of her neck.
Chang Er took a small, tentative sip from the cup, testing its temperature. “Thank you,” she sighed as I continued to rub and press on specific acupunctural points on her head, neck, and shoulders. I was good at it, for I had done it countless times for my own grandmama and then almost every week for Mrs. Guo. When Chang Er replaced the cup on the table, I moved to refill it, and it was only then that she took time to regard me closely.
“What is your name?”
“My name is Li Jing, Jiejie.” I dropped my gaze when she spoke and fidgeted with the long blue sash of my hanfu. Chang Er had such a sweet and gentle voice. She must also be a songstress, on top of everything else.
“Well, Jing. Lift your chin so I can have a look at you.”
I shifted on my feet, but obeyed. When the hair over my forehead was swept back and a cold finger landed between my brows, I thought the courtesan was going to comment on my mole as well, but Chang Er said nothing. She let her hands drop and reclaimed the cup of tea on the table.
“So what brought you here, Jing?” She took another sip.
I twirled the sash around my fingers. “I…I was sold to the chinglou.”
“I see. And how have they been treating you? Are you coping well?”
No, Jing. Not the truth.
I stopped myself just in time. It was a question that sounded harmless enough, but answering it incorrectly would have direct consequences for my plans of running away. And with that in mind, I nodded. “Yes, Jiejie, I am coping very well indeed. I like it here. Everyone is very kind to me.”
I watched as Chang Er gazed at me, then she let out a soft sigh and replaced a half-empty cup upon the table. What did that sigh mean? Was she relieved? Disappointed?
“I’m glad.” Chang Er smiled, though this time it did not quite reach her eyes.
I did not see much of Chang Er after that day. What Miao had said was true, for almost every evening since her return, Yuegong Lou’s resident mingji would be overwhelmed with invitations from one party to the next and could hardly be seen in the chinglou at all.
One evening, Xiaoyi and I were waiting on Smelly, Chili, and Big Hair as they entertained two men in one of the larger private rooms upstairs. It was an elaborately decorated room, with red pumpkin-shaped lanterns and strips of red, orange, and brown laces and ribbons hanging from the walls and ceiling. It was the room Chili usually entertained in, for the warm colors of the interior complemented the signature red garments she always wore, making her seem so much a part of the decor that she looked almost like an illusion. Now, as Smelly serenaded her with a guzheng, Chili danced with a red folding fan in each hand, looking more like a giant chili than ever with her skinny figure swathed in a bright red hanfu.
The older man of the two watched her, entranced by the performance. He looked to be in his late forties, dressed in thick satin robes, and kept an equally thick beard to probably cover up his double chin. The courtesans addressed him as Mr. Zhang, and from how familiar they were with him, he seemed to be a regular of the chinglou. Apparently, he ran a huge liquor-manufacturing business that supplied all over the province, including Yuegong Lou.
I stood on the side with a ceramic urn of white liquor in my hands. The silly man didn’t seem to notice or care that his young friend appeared out of his element in this place. For almost two zhuxiang, which was the time it took to burn two whole incense sticks, Big Hair had been trying to engage him in conversation but could only elicit a few nods or monosyllabic answers. He sat there, rigid and silent, and whenever the courtesan laid a hand on his arm or leaned too close, he would inconspicuously move a little farther away. He fidgeted as well, giving the majority of his attention to the cup of alcohol in front of him. I almost laughed.
Why was he even here? He was so obviously uncomfortable with the entire place.
When the dance was over, Mr. Zhang rose promptly to his feet and clapped. “Wonderful, Honghe! Simply marvelous, don’t you think, Yao?”
The man called Yao put down his cup and cleared his throat. “Indeed.” He nodded curtly, and then cast a glance in my direction again.
Yes, again. It wasn’t the first time he had done this.
I looked down quickly. His gaze seemed to carry something I couldn’t quite read. I shifted my feet a few times and glanced up again. When the man wouldn’t take his eyes off me, Big Hair spoke.
“Jing! Can’t you see Mr. Yao’s cup is empty?”
I jumped, nearly spilling the contents of the bottle, and hurried over to apologize and refill Mr. Yao’s cup with the warm liquor. My ears felt as though someone had slapped them.
The courtesans continued to entertain the men with interesting conversations and various drinking games, most of which involved dice playing and a lot of body contact. More often than not, Mr. Zhang would sneak a hand over to one of the ladies under the table, or gently smack their behinds, which would elicit a playful squeal. I swallowed and looked over at Xiaoyi. She seemed indifferent, but I could never stand being touched in that manner, and if this was what courtesans had to do to make a living, I was not cut out to be one. All this time, the man called Yao remained stoic, as though determined not to fit in.
“Yao, you do not seem to be enjoying yourself tonight as much as I had hoped you would,” Mr. Zhang finally pointed out. “Is there anything not to your satisfaction?”
There was a moment of silence as Mr. Yao replaced his cup on the table. “Well…as a matter of fact,” he began, “I would’ve liked someone else—”
“Oh, Mr. Yao!” Big Hair feigned a look of shock. “Are you suggesting that Honghe, Qiu Xiang, and I are not entertaining enough for you?”
Mr. Yao shook his head in earnest. “No. It’s just that I would much prefer the company of someone else.”
Mr. Zhang let out a loud, appreciative guffaw, turning his face even redder than the liquor had already done. He seemed to be in a rather tipsy mood from all that drinking. “You’re always so straightforward, Yao. Well, you heard the man. Call in the rest of your sisters so he can have his pick and we can continue the party!”
“That will not be necessary, Zhang. I already have someone in mind.”
“Oh? And who might that be? Is it Feier, the Persian dancer? I heard she has been quite in demand lately.”
But Mr. Yao shook his head. Although he was also relatively red in the face, he did not seem to be as drunk as Mr. Zhang. “No, I’d rather…”
“You’d rather Tian Tianr, then?”
“No, I—”
“Oh, come on, you can’t be that picky!” Mr. Zhang rolled his bloodshot eyes. Then something seemed to occur to him. “Or maybe you fancy someone more popular? Just say her name, Yao. I can get you anyone in Yuegong Lou—even the mingji, Chang Er!”
Sure enough, the man fell silent for a moment, and then somewhat hesitantly nodded in a certain direction. There was a collective response of—
“What?”
No one in the room fully understood what he meant until Mr. Yao had his index finger pointing across the room directly at me.
This time, I really did spill the liquor.
I dropped the entire bottle and it crashed to the ground, but no one even flinched
. This couldn’t be true. Surely this man couldn’t possibly expect me to entertain? What was he thinking?
For what seemed like the longest moment, there was complete silence, but it was Smelly who recovered first. She gave a nervous little laugh. “My word, Mr. Yao, you do know how to kid around! For a moment there, I believe you had all of us completely fooled!”
The other courtesans tactfully joined in with the laughter, but my heart felt as though it was about to hammer a hole in my chest, because the man did not look the least bit like he was kidding. He turned to Mr. Zhang. “I would be delighted if she should join us tonight,” he said.
This time, the courtesans could no longer laugh it off. Xiaoyi suddenly seemed to jerk to life and jumped in front of me. “No, you can’t have Jing! It’s…it’s not allowed!”
“Be quiet, Xiaoyi!” Smelly scolded, then hitched on a businesslike tone quite different from the flirtatious one she had been using all night. “Mr. Yao, you may not be aware since you are not a regular visitor of the chinglou, but unfortunately, our younger sisters are not available to entertain until they have officially been promoted into courtesans.”
At this, the others promptly joined in. “Yes, for now, the girls are mere maidservants,” Chili said.
“And you wouldn’t want Jing, Mr. Yao. She only just arrived two weeks ago!” Big Hair put in.
“Yes, hardly any experience.”
“No training at all—”
“—not even an apprentice yet.”
“She’d bore you to death.”
“Yes, and give the chinglou a bad name.”
“Enough!” Mr. Zhang let out a bellow that instantly shut everyone up. He walked over to where the other man was standing. “Do not worry about what these women said, Yao.” He draped an arm around his friend, and then looked hard at me. “I can see why you fancy her. She’s a pretty thing, this lass. And tian, ah! Especially with that beauty mark between her brows. But she’s still a little young, so.” He pointed a finger at me. “You’re sure this is the one you want?”
Mr. Yao’s thin lips hardened into a straight line. No…his mind was set. I covered my mouth and shook my head. Oh, great Huli Jing, help me, I didn’t want to be a courtesan! I couldn’t even stand the way he looked at me, much less the thought of sitting right next to him! Just remembering how the men behaved with the courtesans made me sick.
Where were the doors? Perhaps I could…The doors abruptly opened, and Qia Mama came in, followed by a panting Xiaoyi, who had apparently sneaked out to get the baomu to come to my rescue!
“Ah, just the person I wanted to see!” Mr. Zhang’s eyes lit up when he saw the old lady. “You came at the right time, Madam Qia. I was getting tired of the nonsense your daughters have been giving me over such a trivial matter.”
“Qia Mama, we—” Smelly began, but Qia Mama held her hand up. She grinned thinly, thankfully not showing her teeth.
“Then I must first apologize on my daughters’ behalf. I will have them make it up to you, Mr. Zhang,” Qia Mama promised in her raspy voice. “Now, what seems to be the problem?”
“My friend would like to invite your little daughter over there, Jing—is that her name?—to join our party tonight. But it seems as though it is not allowed…” Mr. Zhang tactfully drifted off, casting an impatient glance at the rest of the courtesans. “Mr. Yao is an incredibly important client of mine—” he continued, but he was cut off by Qia Mama.
“My daughters are courtesans, Mr. Zhang. Not common whores,” she reminded him firmly. “This girl is still new and therefore, I’m afraid, not available for service yet. But if your friend Mr. Yao pleases, I can offer—”
“Nonsense hulu-sticks!” Mr. Zhang slapped the surface of the lacquered wooden table. “Never in my life have I heard of such a thing! Is that the way your chinglou treats a paying customer, Madam Qia? After all the fine liquor I’ve supplied Yuegong Lou, and the amount of businesses I have brought you?”
“Please, Mr. Zhang. Let us not blow things out of proportion…” Qia Mama was starting to look slightly flustered, as though contemplating whether she should change her mind. I covered my eyes. She was giving in.
“If Mr. Yao insists, then perhaps—” she began, but another voice cut in.
“Then perhaps I can offer my company to this gentleman tonight.”
Abruptly, the doors to the room opened for the second time as someone else stepped in, looking ethereal in a flowing periwinkle hanfu and a white outer robe edged with snow fox fur.
“Chang Er!” Nearly everyone in the room blurted it out at the same time. I could not believe my eyes. From the pink flush in her cheeks and the bits of snow that still clung to her robe and her long dark hair, it was obvious that Chang Er had only just returned. Had she come solely to save me?
“Well, I’ll be! If it isn’t the famous mingji of Yuegong Lou.” Mr. Zhang looked simply delighted. “Chang Er, you still look as gorgeous as ever.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Zhang.” Chang Er curtsied as Mr. Zhang came over and snaked his arm around her waist.
He cooed into her ear. “I requested your company tonight, but as usual you’re too busy outside of the chinglou to entertain insignificant guests like us.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Zhang,” Chang Er argued in her gentle, hypnotic voice. “There isn’t a day that goes by without me thinking of you when I entertain, seeing as how you supply liquor to our chinglou practically free of charge.” She laid a perfectly manicured hand on his chest. “I do apologize for having neglected such an important friend as you; therefore I’d be most honored if you’d allow me to make it up to your friend here.”
As did every man, Mr. Zhang looked completely smitten with the mingji and seemed as though he would agree to anything she suggested. My mind felt like it was in a tug-of-war. I didn’t want Chang Er to have to sacrifice herself on my behalf, but I didn’t want to be the one sacrificed, either!
Mr. Zhang, thankfully, seemed perfectly agreeable to the idea. He looked over at Mr. Yao. “Well, if it pleases the gentleman…ah, then I have no objections.” But unbelievably, even in face of Chang Er’s beauty, the stubborn man still shook his head.
“I do not fancy anyone else,” he replied.
“But, Mr. Yao…” For the first time, even Chang Er seemed caught off guard. Clearly, she hadn’t expected any man to be able to resist her offer, much less completely turn it down.
Mr. Zhang shrugged and drank the last of his liquor. “Well, you heard the man. So it looks like I’ll have to ask for you another time, Chang Er.”
I bit on my fists. Please. Please fight for me.
“But, Mr. Zhang, you don’t understand. Jing cannot—” Chang Er began, but a sharp crash cut her off when Mr. Zhang furiously dashed his cup onto the floor.
“I’ve had enough of this monkey zaju!” he hollered, then jabbed a finger at Chang Er. “Who are you, a mere woman, to tell me what I do or do not understand? Are you people trying to make a fool out of me in front of my client? You can name whatever confounded price you want for one evening with that girl, and by the gods, I will pay it!” He whirled around to face Qia Mama and reached into his sleeves. “Madam Qia, if you are anything like the businesswoman I believe you to be, you will take this amount I’m offering you now and let the girl join us.” He fished out a bag and cast it with a heavy thud onto the table in front of Qia Mama. When she opened up the bag and fished out a sheaf of paper money, the baomu’s eyes almost popped right out of their sockets.
As my fate was sealed by those crummy papers, I let out a sob. I knew the expression on Qia Mama’s face all too well. I had seen that very same look on Aunt Mei when she had been offered five silver pieces for her own niece. I saw it on my mother-in-law on the day the baomu had come to inspect me. And now it was written all over this woman’s face.
Greed.
Sure enough, an ugly grin appeared on Qia Mama’s face as she nodded. “It would be rude of me to refuse such a sincere offer, Mr. Zhang.”
“Now you listen well, you little wretch.”
It would’ve been easier to listen well if Qia Mama wasn’t yanking on my ear so roughly. We were alone in the hallway outside the room where the party was just continuing.
“I don’t know what you did to make those gentlemen desire your company so badly, but I assure you that if you should do anything to upset our most important guests, I will make you wish I had thrown you into a wok of oil,” Qia Mama threatened with the fiercest glower she could muster. “If you don’t know what to do, just follow your sisters’ lead.”
And with a shove, the old woman sent me reeling into the room, almost tripping over the new hanfu they had changed me into. “I bid you enjoy the rest of your evening, gentlemen,” Qia Mama said.
As the door closed behind me, I stood there like a rock. Everyone was looking at me. Well, almost everyone. Mr. Yao, oddly, wasn’t. He continued emptying his cup of liquor. Big Hair sighed in a motherly sort of way.
“Why, isn’t that Xuehuar’s hanfu? It looks better on you, Jing, I must say!”
This wasn’t true. The hanfu was ill-fitting and cumbersome. The gossamer sleeves that were too long got in my way, and I kept stepping on the edges of the full, multilayered skirt. Furthermore, pink was never my color, especially such a gaudy shade.
Smelly patted the empty seat next to hers, and mercifully, it was the farthest from Mr. Zhang and Mr. Yao. The fragrance from the sachet of lavender and sandalwood she always carried smelled surprisingly soothing this evening.
“That’s Qiu Xiang, always the responsible big sister,” Chili teased. Then she picked up a mug containing five dice. “How about another round of Liar Dice? Jing doesn’t know how to play, so she can just watch.”
Thankfully, for the rest of the evening, the men in the room made no inappropriate advances toward me at all. The most Mr. Yao did was engage me in cordial conversation. Mr. Zhang hardly paid me any attention, being a lot more attracted to the older ladies. No one even offered me any of the liquor because Smelly had asked for a pot of hot chrysanthemum tea instead. When Smelly was invited again to play a famous piece of music on her zither, I became completely entranced by the beautiful melody. It made me long to play Baba’s dizi. In fact, when it gradually became clear that nothing too bad was probably going to happen, I had begun to relax, and only stiffened when Mr. Yao rose from his seat and asked to be shown to the bathroom. Any one of the courtesans could have escorted him, but Mr. Yao was gazing intently at me.