The Crystal Ribbon

by Celeste Lim

  The wooden boards on the landing were so cold it felt like I was standing on knives. I pulled on my socks and shoes, and then unraveled the ladder to tie one end of it to the wooden beams of the balcony. I tested the strength of my double knot with a few hard jerks. Sisi’s silk felt firm and very strong. I secured the other end of the ladder around my waist, circling it twice around myself. When I was done, I stepped closer to the edge of the balcony and looked down.

  I swallowed. It was high, but if I could climb up and down trees, I shouldn’t make too huge of a fuss over four levels, especially when it was to save my own life. I let the remaining parts of the silk fall over the edge and watched as it dangled halfway down. Then I took a deep breath and hoisted myself over the beams and climbed to the other side. I tested the ladder one last time before trusting my entire weight to it and began the slow descent. A few times the wind picked up and I swung in midair, but my feet continued finding the thick knots I had made along the silk, and my hands kept me steady.

  I leaped off the ladder above the last few knots, my goatskin boots making a dull slosh as they plunged shin-high into the snow. It was after I had untied my waist that I turned around and saw something that made my blood turn colder than the snow around my legs.

  “Chang Er Jiejie!”

  The one thing that I had completely forgotten to consider was the mingji’s inconsistent working hours outside of Yuegong Lou! She must’ve just returned from a late party and managed to catch me red-handed. Had all this been for absolutely nothing? My hands trembled as I clutched at my sleeves.

  Chang Er stepped out of the shadows, lifting the paper lantern in her hand. “You’re bold indeed to attempt running away, Jing.”

  Despite the cold, I fell to my knees and kowtowed several times into the snow. “Please, Jiejie, I beg of you! Do not take me back to Qia Mama! Oh, please—” I sobbed.

  “And very wise.”

  Wait, what?

  I lifted my head from the snow and found Chang Er standing in front of me. She kneeled to my height and gently brushed the snow from my face. “You have made a brave and very wise decision in running away,” she said. “You are a very fortunate girl to not have been born into the life of a courtesan.”

  What exactly was happening…?

  Chang Er was obviously waiting for a response, but what could one say? Was there even an appropriate response in this case? A magical answer? I still couldn’t tell whether I was in trouble, but her eyes…the warm lantern glow made them look amber and fiery, but her eyes looked like they carried all the sorrows of the world. I had to say something.

  “But…but, Jiejie, you are such a successful mingji—beautiful, rich, and famous…and Miao—” I twisted the hem of my sleeves. “Miao looks up to you and wants to be just like you one day.”

  Chang Er shook her head. “Miao is a foolish girl—a girl whose future is certain to be that of a common, nameless courtesan,” she whispered absently. “There is a lot more to the life of a courtesan than meets the eye, my dear child, which is why you should count your blessings that you were not meant for this.” She paused for a brief moment. “Do you know why I insist on calling you Jing?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, it is a beautiful name, for one thing. The word consists of three repeated characters of ri, which on its own means ‘the sun.’ Let me show you.” Chang Er proceeded to write my name in the snow:

  “See? But as a whole, the word means ‘crystal.’ Now why do you think that a crystal is written with three suns in it?”

  When I shook my head, she continued. “It is because crystals are beautiful things that sparkle in the sunlight, so the word shows that a crystal has a lot of sunshine in it.” Chang Er took my hands in her cold ones. “Jing, don’t you feel your parents’ love for you in your name? It is full of blessing and not something silly and meaningless like Hua Xianzi.”

  A certain kind of ache spread through my chest, making me long for Huanan all the more. Chang Er continued, still holding my hands. “Forget Hua Xianzi, Jing. ‘She’ never should’ve existed in the first place.”

  I hesitated a few moments before asking, “What about you, Chang Er Jiejie? What is your real name?”

  Another pause before she answered. “I no longer remember. I was sold to the chinglou as an infant.”

  The moon lit one half of her perfect oval face, and I saw the moisture that was welling up in her beautiful eyes. It was then that I realized what an unfortunate woman Chang Er was, for what were wealth, fame, and beauty when you had nothing else that truly mattered? She was a grown woman with her own will, and yet she did not even belong to herself.

  “I…I’m sorry, Jiejie…,” I whispered. Never in my life had I felt so thankful for my name.

  “Silly girl, don’t be.” Chang Er smiled and wiped the tears from my face. “Before you go, I’d like you to have this.” She reached behind her head and carefully pulled out a hairpin from her faji. It had a sharp point that ended in the shape of an opened folding fan, with intricate red patterns carved onto its translucent white surface.

  The ornament looked so exquisite that I immediately shook my head. “Jiejie, this is too valuable. I cannot have it.”

  “Nonsense; it’s hardly worth a few copper pieces,” Chang Er berated me. “It was one of the first gifts I bought for myself with my own money, and I know it will look stunning on a young girl like you.” She inserted the ornament into my hair at an angle, tilting the fan to one side. “Take it, along with my blessings for a happy future.”

  “Jiejie…” My whole body was shaking, but not from the cold. I moved back and kowtowed heavily into the snow. “Jing has nothing of value to give you in return for such kindness, but I will remember this for as long as I shall live.”

  “That will be enough for me, dear child. And you’d best be going now.” She stood up, promptly untying the pale blue cloak on her shoulders and wrapping it around me. “Take this as well; it is made from good material that will keep you warm during your journey,” she said as she pulled the thick furry hood over my head.

  The white fur that lined the edges of the cloak felt soft as it tickled my cheeks like gentle fingers. I could only mumble an almost inaudible word of thanks as I hugged her tight.

  The smaller streets were dark, and I had to grope my way, sometimes half-blinded by shadows, until I came out onto a wider street. Here, the brightness of the moonlight guided me as I plodded through the silvery-gray snow that had accumulated higher than my ankles.

  The moment I passed the gates of Xiawan, I jumped into the air. For the first time in my life, I was free! I didn’t belong anywhere or to anyone, and there was no one to tell me what to do and where to go. Never had I felt so buoyant, so weightless, as though if I wasn’t careful, I could float right up into the sky and become lost in the clouds.

  I ran. I ran in circles, in straight lines, arms outstretched. I cartwheeled across the snow-shoveled road, walked on my hands, ran toward the moon, and I would’ve hollered and yelled if I didn’t have to worry about getting caught. But as I stopped to catch my breath, I thought about people like Auntie San, who had given me provisions, a clear map, and had cried so much when I bade them goodbye that Yao Hong had to step in…Jun’an, who had been distressed for many days after I left, but when Auntie San told him about my plans to escape, had jumped for joy…and, of course, Chang Er.

  My heart sank a little. But I gently slapped my cheeks and quickened my footsteps. Silly Huli Jing, don’t let these emotions slow you down. You’re going home!

  Would my family be happy to see me? What would Baba say? Would Pan remember me? I hummed a lullaby. Pan would be turning four this year. And Wei, my dearest brother. How much had he grown since I left? Was he taller than me, perhaps?

  With the orange glow from my lantern and the moonlight showing the way, I hastened down the main road, which had been cleared of snow for the carts. At Auntie San’s, Yao Hong had cautioned that Yuegong Lou might start a search for
me tomorrow, so it was vital that I used the time I had today to cover as much distance as I could. The map I had been given would take me to Baihe town and then back to Huanan, but to avoid a search party, Yao Hong had mapped out a smaller path that was less traveled on.

  “Yuegong Lou will most certainly know you’re gone by noon and come looking for you at the Guo household, even though they know for certain that you wouldn’t be there,” Auntie San had said as she handed me a lantern. “Their goal will not be to get you back but to kick up a fuss and demand that the Guos return the deposit they paid.”

  Good! I felt a fierce sort of satisfaction at the thought. Those wicked people deserved nothing better than a rotten century egg.

  Although I was already feeling the exhaustion from being awake since midday the day before, I forced myself to move on. I could afford short naps when I began traveling down the smaller paths in the morning.

  I didn’t know exactly when it was that I became lost. I supposed it started with the unsettling gnawing at the back of my mind as I tried to follow a particularly winding road that was so small it should’ve been considered a dirt path. Not too long before that, I had still been following the main road without much difficulty until the map told me to turn into a smaller one. Here, the trail became less visible because it was not as frequently traveled, but all I had to do was occasionally clear the snow with my feet to be able see the pathway.

  After that, it had started to snow. It worried me, but I had pressed on, because I needed more distance from the main road. When I came to a signboard, I had to lift my lantern up close and brush the accumulated frost off the wooden board before I could read it. I clearly remembered checking the map before taking the path to my left, which was the one I was currently supposed to be on. It was a small one, so I had figured that after traveling a little farther down this road, I should have earned some time to rest. The sun would be rising soon, in any case.

  Then the snowfall grew thicker, and that was when it started becoming difficult to follow the road. As the falling snow quickly hid the path from view, I had to start kicking snow aside as I walked, hugging the lantern to my chest to shield it from the wind. Gradually, for every few steps I took, I had to bend over and clear a foot of snow ahead of me to check that I was still on the road. I did not know exactly when I had gone off course, but before I realized it, the path underneath me had completely disappeared, and try as I might, I couldn’t seem to find it again under all the snow.

  The panic that seized me was immediate and so great that crying didn’t even occur to me. I had only one thought: Let me find it.

  I frantically started shoveling snow here and there with my bare hands, but instead of finding the path, I found the trees around me growing thicker and thicker, until I had to finally admit that instead of finding my way, I was only getting myself more and more lost.

  I had wandered into a forest.

  As though satisfied with the trouble it had caused, the blizzard died down and stopped. I sank beneath a bald maple. And although my chest hurt from panting, that was when the crying finally caught up. I didn’t have to worry about search parties finding me now. I doubted anyone could.

  “Do not cry, my child.”

  That voice again—the voice in my dreams.

  “Do not cry; you are not lost,” it whispered, gentle as a feather. “But it’s time to wake up.”

  “But I’m so tired.”

  “No, you must wake up, child. Now,” the voice said more firmly.

  My eyelids were partly glued shut by frozen tears. When I opened them, the sun shone in my eyes. It was probably late in the afternoon. I had overslept. I touched the extinguished lantern in between my legs. It still felt warm; the fire must’ve burned out not long ago.

  Around me, trees and bushes grew in close quarters, and there was no distinct and continuous space in between the growths to indicate the possible existence of a path underneath the snow.

  “Not lost, she says…,” I muttered as I stood up, brushing the snow off my cloak.

  Here I was in the middle of a forest, and although it didn’t look frightening at all, with the sunlight shining over the skeletal trees and reflected by the sparkling snow, I would definitely change my mind by nightfall. Who knew what else besides wild beasts lived in these forests? Ghosts? Jing? Bandits? I didn’t want to find out. So there was really only one thing to do—find my way out before it got dark and scary.

  I slung my lantern behind me and strode in the opposite direction from the sun. Baihe town was east of Xiawan, so if I headed in a straight line in that general direction, it was likely that I’d stumble upon a road leading there sooner or later.

  Trudging through the forest after a blizzard was difficult and tiring. The snow was shin-high, and if I didn’t lift my feet completely out of the snow when I took my next step, I could catch my foot on a branch or root and fall. But still, I hardly stopped for rest and even ate as I walked. I didn’t want to spend another night here.

  But it was winter, and by the hour of the rooster, it was already getting dark. As the sun drew farther away into the horizon, I started to run and stumble.

  Please, just a little more time. Let me find it.

  When all that was left lighting the sky were a few rays of weak light, I was panting so hard the cold air hurt my chest, and despite the chill, my palms were wet with sweat. I lit the lantern, but the fire only made everything else around me darker than it already was. And worse still, the flickering flames created shadows that lurked and wavered against the trees and bushes, and around corners. Something was always moving, but never within sight. And the sounds of the forest seemed to grow louder as well—the wind whistling, trees rustling, owls hooting…Everything was coming alive…

  I fell to my knees with a sob. “Please…”

  I pulled my hood over my head and started to cry. Please, I didn’t want to spend another moment alone in this frightening place! Could anyone possibly find me now? Compared to here, even Yuegong Lou was starting to seem like a good place to return to. I wanted someone to talk to, a friend beside me. Even an animal friend like Saffron or Sisi would be wonderful.

  As I curled into a tiny ball within the small circle of light from the lantern, something pressed against the side of my waist. I reached inside my cloak and pulled out Baba’s dizi.

  I gazed at the sleek instrument, fingering the warm, polished wood. Then I brought it to my lips. My notes wavered at first, broken by sniffles, but soon, I was playing a lullaby Baba had taught me as a child. I closed my eyes, shutting out all the shadows that had frightened me.

  Suddenly, just at the end of a line, an even clearer tune sounded overhead. A song that almost exactly matched the one I had been playing. I gasped and looked up. Perched on one of the lower branches of the tree in front of me was a little nightingale.

  Could it be? Could this nightingale possibly be Koko, Mr. Guo’s pet? As I stared, the bird tilted its tiny brown head to one side and regarded me solemnly. I hardly dared lift a finger for fear of frightening it away. Then the little creature fluffed its feathers and trilled, repeating the exact same melody I had just played. After a line, it stopped and continued to gaze at me with its beady black eyes.

  Careful not to make any sudden movements, I repeated the same notes in a lower pitch. As beautiful as a dizi sounded, no instrument could ever reach the pitch that nightingales could. But nonetheless, the little bird seemed impressed, for it did not fly away, but instead dropped to an even lower branch.

  I started a different tune on my flute, then stopped. This time, the little thing fluffed its feathers and trilled at the top of its voice.

  “Jingjing! Jiiiiiiing!”

  There was no mistake about it this time. I let my flute drop as my hands flew to my mouth. “Koko! Oh, Koko, it is you!”

  As soon as I held out my hands, the nightingale flew into them, just as he so often did back at the Guos’ when I fed him every day. “You’ve been here in this forest all alo
ng, haven’t you?” It just felt so good to have familiar company that I didn’t mind whether or not he could understand or respond to me. “You didn’t know how to fly south for the winter, did you? You poor thing, of course you don’t. You were kept in that cage too long. But don’t worry, I will take care of you,” I cooed to him as I lightly stroked his head with the underside of my finger.

  The bird squeezed his eyes shut and ruffled his feathers vigorously. He never much enjoyed being cuddled. I chuckled; that little gesture meant—

  “Stop touching me!”

  Yes, that.

  Wait. Was I hearing my own thoughts?

  “I said, stop the cuddling!” The bird opened his beak. “You really do know how to ruffle a bird’s feathers.”

  I screamed. Koko flew off my palm and landed on the lantern.

  “Now, is it such a big surprise that I can speak? I feel insulted.” He tilted his head and ruffled his plumes huffily. “Seeing as how I learned your name ages ago, this shouldn’t have come as that much of a shock.”

  “But…but—” But that was completely different!

  “Yes, that’s right, my girl!” Koko trilled proudly.

  What’s right? I hadn’t even said anything yet. But Koko went on as though in his own world.

  “I, the Divine Triller of Xuanji, am a nightingale who has absorbed enough chi to elevate into a jing, which grants me the ability to speak,” he said, puffing up his light-colored chest.

  Now I knew exactly why they called this feeling “tongue-tied.”

  “I’m known as a niao jing, like any bird that has attained a higher level of consciousness,” Koko said, nodding his tiny head. “Have been for some time now, but I am a relatively weak jing until I am able to elevate into a proper deity. So when I was captured by Mr. Guo’s servant one day, I had to hide the fact that I was one, to avoid being killed.” And what was an unmistakable sigh escaped his beak. “I was held in captivity for such a long time that I was about to give up hope of ever escaping, until you came along.” Koko’s eyes fixed unblinkingly on me. “I could tell you are a kind girl, Jing, which was why I told the spider jing in our garden to seek your help. I am not sure whether she gave me away when she met you, but later on, I even ‘learned’ your name on purpose, hoping to give you an indication that I am no ordinary bird.”