The Crystal Ribbon

by Celeste Lim

  I took care to avoid ice on the wood. Wei and I used to dash up and down these steps. Back then, we didn’t care whether we might fall, and even if we did, we’d have just laughed at each other.

  Soon, I was at the rickety front gate. The huge brass gong stood on the side where it always had, its center faded from the number of times it had been rung. I picked up the mallet and gently struck the center once, pausing for a moment to listen to the reverberating chime that made me think of ripples spreading out in a pond.

  When I entered the main hall, someone was already waiting beside the altar.

  “Yue Shenpo.” I almost forgot to bow to the shamaness, who walked up and cupped my cheeks. Was it my imagination, or did Shenpopo’s hands feel coarser than they had the last time they’d touched me?

  “Silly girl. You no longer live here, but you can still call me Shenpopo, just like all the other children who grew up here,” the old lady said with the same smile that always reached her eyes. “My, my…you’re a young lady now.”

  And it was only then that I noticed I was no longer shorter than the shamaness, but almost a foot taller. This brought back more than just memories and reminded me of someone else, too.

  “Where is Lian?” I glanced around for my best friend. She would’ve turned fourteen this year. Would Lian still be taller than I was?

  “She is due for her shrine maiden initiation next year,” said Yue Shenpo. “I have sent her on a pilgrimage to the goddess Guan Yin’s temple on Changbai Mountain to receive her blessings. Her journey will probably take one moon cycle.”

  Then I wouldn’t get to see her…

  Oh, stop it, you crybaby. You should be happy for her. And besides, she’s not the only friend you have. What about Kaizhen and Koko?

  I had been so distracted with homecoming that I hadn’t even thought about my missing friends. “Shenpopo, have you seen a fair-haired boy around the village by any chance?”

  Shenpopo’s thin eyebrows came together. “No, I haven’t seen any new faces around. Who is this fair-haired boy you speak of? Your husband?”

  “No, I came home to visit; he’s just a friend who traveled with me.” My cheeks grew hot, and I fumbled for Wei’s book in my waistband. “Um, Shenpopo, could you please help me read something?”

  Shenpopo nodded and took it from me, studying the page I had turned to. I twirled and tugged at the ends of my ribbon. Then she began.

  They live in Xiawan.

  If I become the son of the Huang family, I can see Jie again. I will find her, and I will get to keep our promise.

  Pan’s condition is getting worse. Shenpopo said he wouldn’t survive the week if his fever is not treated. There is nothing else we can do. It’s either me or Pan, and I don’t want Pan to die like Mama did. Dying hurts too much. Everyone would cry. I don’t want everyone to cry. I’m sure Jie would have done the same thing. She loves Pan so much. Jie would have been proud of me.

  I sank to my knees. “Oh, Wei…” I curled into a ball on the ground and wept. So part of the reason he left was because of me. He had wanted to leave…

  Could it have been him? That one time when I had thought I heard my little brother on the streets…could it have been him? All this time, he had been in Xiawan…How could fate be so cruel?

  I cried and pounded the floor till my fists were numb. “Oh, Wei…why do you have to be so brave…?”

  Shenpopo kneeled and wrapped me in her arms. “In that way, he is like his sister.”

  It was only a whisper, but I heard it like the ring of a gong.

  In the afternoon, I made my way over to the blacksmith’s forge with Baba’s lunch. I had learned to cook well under Auntie San’s guidance, and today was the first time I cooked for my family.

  When I arrived at the forge, I found Baba working hard in the backyard. He stood just next to the blazing hearth, hammering an ax into shape. The moment he turned his blackened face around and saw me, he immediately put his hammer down and dipped the ax into the cooling tank. It made a sharp, drawn-out hiss.

  “Jing.”

  It was all he could say. He looked so surprised and happy that I wasn’t still completely mad at him. My heart ached.

  “I…I brought lunch. I made it myself.”

  I looked down and tried not to cry. Why did he have to look so happy? It was just lunch; why did he have to look as though I was giving him the world?

  I held out the lunchbox, filled with food he liked, and that was when Baba’s face shifted from a big smile to a big frown.

  He grabbed my hands and pulled them toward him, his eyes widening at the ugly scars on my fingers. I tried to tug my hands back, but Baba held on to them firmly.

  “What is this?” he asked. “How did you get this? Did the chinglou do this to you?”

  After a pause, I shook my head and gazed at him. “It was Mrs. Guo.”

  There was a long silence. Baba stroked my fingers so gently, as though afraid that he might still hurt them if he wasn’t careful enough—as though they were his wounds. The moment Baba’s tears landed on the back of my hands, he fell to his knees in front of me.

  “Baba!” So shocked I almost couldn’t speak, I tried to pull him up. “Baba, what are you doing?”

  “B-Baba is sorry, Jing…Sorry for what I have allowed to happen to you and Wei.” Before I could stop him, Baba touched his forehead to the ground in a deep kowtow. “Forgive your baba for being a weak and useless man…”

  I began to cry and pulled at Baba’s arm, but he wouldn’t budge. “Baba, you mustn’t! There is gold beneath a man’s knees. You mustn’t kneel to your own daughter; it is not right.” To see Baba ridden with such guilt that he would stoop to kowtowing to his own daughter broke my heart.

  I hugged him. “You mustn’t blame yourself, Baba, because I don’t, not anymore. And Wei doesn’t, either.” I took out the book and recited Wei’s words. “He wrote this before he left. He wanted to leave, he wanted to save Pan as much as any of us, and he wanted to come to Xiawan.” Here, I paused. “So he could be with me.”

  Baba looked up. “He doesn’t even know where you lived. Did he find you?”

  I shook my head, and a single tear wet my cheek. “There must be a dozen Guo families in Xiawan, and the city is too big. Fate wasn’t on our side.”

  Baba put his forehead in his hands. “Your mama wouldn’t rest in peace should she know of the horrors I have put her children through.”

  “My mama would be smiling beneath the Nine Springs if she knew of the people we have become through our hardship.” Baba had done no wrong. Wei was right. Any of us would have done the same thing for Pan.

  Before I could wipe away my baba’s tears, he had pulled me into another hug. “Oh, Jing…my brave, wonderful daughter.”

  When we finally broke apart, I held up the lunchbox. “Here, Baba, eat up before it turns cold.”

  Baba gazed for a long time at his food, as though it were gold pieces rather than simple rice, peanut and tofu broth, and fried vegetables. “It’s…really great to have you back, Jing,” he said, gently rubbing the side of my cheek before picking up his chopsticks.

  It might have been winter, but my heart felt as though it was blooming like an ocean of flowers in spring. One mustn’t forget that parents who asked for forgiveness from children were as rare as children who talked back to parents. Which was why, right there, sitting next to my baba as he ate the lunch I prepared, I felt sure that, at that moment, I had to be the happiest girl in the whole world.

  We were sent to bed early that evening. Pan fell asleep after my second story about the time I met the White Lady Baigu, but it was still too early for me, so when I heard hushed voices coming through the door, I crept toward it. The flickering lamplight streamed through the crack under the door. The number of different voices told me that Baba, Aunt Mei, and Grandmama were all there.

  Pan’s loud snores disrupted my eavesdropping, but after pushing the door open just a smidgen, I could hear better, and even see a
part of Baba’s back. I could just barely see the side of Aunt Mei’s face, but not Grandmama’s. Baba had his head down, as though studying something on the table. Then Grandmama spoke.

  “What you are looking at, my son, is a letter of divorce. The village teacher read it to us earlier today.”

  My heart missed a beat. Did this mean that I could now stay here? How wonderful to be finally free of the Guos forever.

  But Grandmama did not sound happy. “The letter states that the reason for divorce is that the Guo family would not tolerate having a runaway as a daughter-in-law.”

  Aunt Mei snorted and crossed her arms. “Who would? I daresay that no family in their right minds would ever accept such a disgraceful daughter-in-law! With this divorce letter”—Aunt Mei jabbed forcefully at the paper—“your daughter has as good as wiped out all her future prospects of finding a husband.”

  “Enough, Mei.” Grandmama took the letter before Aunt Mei could ruin it. “Your cutting remarks do little to help at this point.”

  I bit my lower lip.

  Had I no right to run away? No right, even, to save my own life? I was now a reject of society. I clenched my fists and bit down harder on my lip.

  But did Baba see me as one? Did it matter that everyone else did if Baba didn’t?

  I took a deep breath. That’s right, Jing. Why should you care for the words of someone who does not care about you? What I truly wanted to know was my baba’s thoughts. I clasped my hands together and held my breath as Grandmama continued.

  “Therefore, in compensation for an undesirable bride, it says that the Guo family has the right to demand from the Li family…” Grandmama paused here, as though exhausted. “A return of the bride price—the pinjin that they paid for her.”

  At this, Aunt Mei flared up again. “It’s five silver pieces, Tao!” she hissed at Baba. “How are we ever going to have enough to scrape through this winter? You tell me that! And all because of her, our family now has an extra mouth that we shouldn’t have the responsibility to feed in the first place!”

  “Jie!” Baba stood up, casting the piece of paper to the ground. “I won’t have you speak in such a manner! Jing is my daughter and always will be. If I have to give an arm and a leg to raise her, I will. The only reason I even agreed to her marriage in the first place was because I had managed to convince myself that she would be going off to live a better life. But now that I know what the Guos are like, I am not the least bit sorry that Jing has been divorced. By the gods, even if they had wanted her back, I wouldn’t have allowed it! Selling my daughter to a chinglou? I have a good mind to go all the way down to Xiawan and show the Guo family the back of my shovel!”

  “Tian, ah, son, I understand your anger, but do keep calm, you’ll wake the children.” Grandmama tugged at Baba’s sleeves, then continued in a low voice. “I’m sure that after the chinglou found out about Jing’s escape, they would’ve refused to pay the Guos any money for her, which would be the main reason they are making this ridiculous demand. But do not fret, we’ll think of a way somehow…”

  When Aunt Mei looked as though she was about to say something again, Baba shot her a look so piercing that she shut up immediately.

  I crawled back under my rug. No one wanted a dishonorable girl who had the nerve to run away from those to whom she belonged. No one but my baba.

  My wonderful, loving baba.

  But as much as I loathed admitting it, Aunt Mei was right. By running away and coming back, I did get my family into trouble—in more trouble than they could, or deserved to, handle.

  Then it became clear what I must do.

  When I was certain that the entire house was asleep, I crept out of the bedroom. Lighting the lamp at the center of the table, I smoothed out a blank piece of paper. And then, on it, I left a drawing that I made with one of Wei’s ash sticks.

  I drew a big square shape, and then over it, a triangle. Under the roof, I drew four faces—one for Baba, one for Pan, another for Grandmama, and the last one with a sour look for Aunt Mei. Outside the house, looking in at the other four, was another face—a happy, smiling face of a girl.

  I rubbed the bangle on my wrist. It used to remind me of Mama, but now, looking at it, I realized that it reminded me of Kaizhen as well. Had he not said before that the bangle might return to me someday?

  I twisted it off my wrist, kissed it, and placed it on my drawing.

  An old Chinese saying goes, “As good news never goes beyond the gate, bad news spreads like wildfire.”

  By morning, almost the entire village would have heard of the misfortune and disgrace that had befallen the Li family. Therefore, as I trudged through the silvery moonlit snow, I grew more certain that I had made the right decision.

  If I could not undo the consequences of running away from the chinglou and the shame and financial burden it brought upon my family, the least I could do was save Baba from having to feed and care for that extra mouth.

  Instead, I would find my friends. I could help Kaizhen find the medicine for his sick father. I would help Koko accumulate good deeds so that he could elevate from a jing to a deity. Eventually, when the uproar over my escape died down, I would go back to Xiawan and find Wei.

  But will you ever return here?

  I stopped on the dirt road and looked back at my home from a distance. The gates that led into Huanan village flapped rigidly in the wind, but other than that, all was still in the night. From my backpack, I fished out Baba’s bamboo dizi.

  I will come back, someday.

  Then I lifted the instrument to my lips and played. This was goodbye.

  I had only just finished the last line when a harmonizing twitter rang through the air. That sound! I lifted my eyes and saw Koko, my little feathered friend, zooming toward me at top speed.

  “Jing!” Koko flew into my arms.

  “Oh, Koko, I have been worried about you!”

  “And I’ve searched for you for days,” said Koko. “The boy told me I’d find you in Huanan village.”

  “Kaizhen! Where is he?”

  “We went our separate ways. He has continued on his journey to Hejian.”

  “Oh…” My heart sank. Why had Kaizhen left without even stopping to say goodbye? Perhaps he didn’t care as much as I had thought.

  “So how have you been, my girl?” Koko asked. “What happened after Daolin?”

  I scratched the back of my head. “I don’t know exactly…I fell from the tree, so I might have passed out during the incident. It sounds completely impossible, but I woke up the very next day in my own bed in Huanan. I even dreamed that Kaizhen transformed into the Great Golden Huli Jing, defeated the Renmian Tree, and flew me all the way into the sky! It was all very strange,” I said. “But what happened to you?”

  Koko chuckled. “What a silly dream! The boy told me that the village chief had dispatched someone to send you home after the incident, as a way to thank you for saving their village. The boy found me and nursed me back to health. By the time I came round, he had already been on the road for a day.” Koko hopped onto my shoulders. “When I grew strong enough to fly, he told me to watch over you before we parted ways.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  Koko shook his head. “If you’re worried about the tree, I assume it must’ve quickly burned to its death, because the boy said the fire eventually grew so great that everyone had to run.” He paused, then asked, “So why are you out here? Where are you going?”

  I looked away.

  Yes. Where did I belong, now that Huanan was no longer home?

  I sniffed. Silly Huli Jing, no more crying.

  Wait. The Huli Jing shrine.

  The Great Golden Huli Jing.

  Shenpopo.

  I tried to remember something the shamaness told me once before:

  If we seek the home where our spirit belongs, we will always find refuge, for its doors will always be open even when all others are closed.

  My spirit’s home—the place
I still had yet to find. Where was it, this magical place where I belonged? It wasn’t difficult to arrive at a decision. “I have to go to the shrine,” I said. “There I can consult the oracle of the Great Golden Huli Jing, and maybe receive guidance on where I should go, what I should do.”

  Koko nodded. “Then let us go.”

  My hand absently went to my wrist, where Mama’s bangle had been. It would hopefully help Baba with his financial burden this winter.

  Of all the times I had had to be given up for others, this time was different. This time, I made the decision. And I was going to be happy with it. I wouldn’t let another tear fall.

  I did not really notice how far we had come until I had climbed the eighty-ninth step of the shrine.

  “This it?” Koko asked, landing on my shoulder. I nodded and, without thinking, reached for the mallet that hung beside the gong’s frame. But I stopped before hitting the gong. Ringing it might wake Shenpopo up. And if the Great Golden Huli Jing could miss my prayers just because I didn’t ring the gong, it wouldn’t be all that great now, would it? I replaced the mallet and pushed the gates open.

  The front yard of the shrine was dark; without my lantern, I would surely have tripped on the uneven cobbled path. In the prayer hall, a big red candle burned on either side of the Huli Jing statue on the worship altar. But instead of taking a set of incense as usual, I took a cylindrical bamboo tube that stood next to the incense holder. The tube, only the size of a bottle of wine, was open on one end and held a hundred flat qian sticks that were used in a form of fortune-telling called the Qiu Qian. Upon the qian sticks were numbered inscriptions that contained the deity’s answer to the question asked and could be deciphered with the help of a Chinese fortune-telling almanac.

  As I kneeled with the qian tube in hand, Koko flew up into the rafters so he wouldn’t distract me. The flames from the candles cast flickering shadows upon the statue, making it look as though it might be moving. Gazing up at it, I remembered the time when I had thought I saw the statue grin at me while I had been praying.