Authors: Jade Lee
Tags: #Historical, #Shanghai (China), #General, #Romance, #Historical Fiction, #Fiction, #Love Stories
"I was opening and strengthening energy channels."
She nodded as if she understood, though he knew she did not. "I have seen people on the street sometimes with needles in their necks or arms. Even their feet."
He nodded to cover his surprise. He had not thought her so observant. "Acupuncture is used for a wide variety of ailments. I learned the technique from my parents. As a boy, I saw them treat infected limbs, stomach weaknesses, even brain fevers."
She looked up and he saw hope shine in her eyes. "So, perhaps there is something to be done for William, something we English don't know..." Her voice trailed away as he shook his head.
"You love your brother and so you search for an answer where there is none. Your brother's energies are different from ours. He must grow as he grows without the burden of inaccurate expectations."
She obviously struggled with his words. Indeed, such thoughts were difficult for him as well. So he sat down in a chair across from her and leaned forward to explain. "The Chinese believe every child has a large number of influences upon them: the year, date, and time of birth, the legacy of parent and grandparent, even birth order as compared to siblings—all these things contribute to a child's basic nature."
She nodded. "There are those in English society who believe that as well."
He nodded. "So you understand. It is every child's responsibility to make the best of what he is born with, to bring honor to family and ancestor." He spoke without inflection, stating simple fact; and yet, his blood cooled with his words and parts of his body went numb.
"But what if a child can't make the best of it? William can't..." She looked into the fire, unable to finish. "Do you know he's heir to a baronetcy? He'll never inherit, of course. Uncle Phillip will eventually have something other than daughters. But still... what if he did? He can't possibly be a baron. He can't even tie his own shoes."
"Your brother has a path, but every time he tries to walk it, he is hemmed in by your expectations."
She stared at him, stricken. "Mine?"
He shrugged. "All of you. To your mother, William is a punishment. To your father, he is..."
"An embarrassment."
He nodded. "And to you—"
"I just want him to be my brother," she whispered.
He didn't answer. They both knew she wanted more, and in time she dropped her gaze. "Is it wrong for me to want him to dress himself? To grow like other boys?"
"Of course not." He wanted to touch her, but he could not; she held herself too far apart. "Have you not noticed that William takes off his clothes when he is hot? That he sings when he is happy? That he dances and sits whenever he wants?"
"That he kicks and screams when he wants," she added dryly.
"But only when his natural desires are stopped."
She looked at him, completely appalled. "You cannot be suggesting we allow him to run wild."
He shook his head. "No, of course not. Compromises must always be made. A child must learn discipline."
She nodded. "But you think we are instilling too much?"
He looked at his hands, wondering why they were so cold. The fire in the hearth was hot, the room pleasant, but his hands felt shrunken and chill. "I believe," he finally said, "that the weight of everyone's hopes distorts William's qi—his energies—and distorted qi brings on fits."
"Can his energies—his qi—can it be balanced? With those needles?"
"Not by an acupuncturist. The problem is too scattered." Her expression became tormented, so he rushed forward to clasp her hands. The heat from her fingers was painfully intense, especially when compared to his own chilled flesh, but he pressed tightly so that she would listen.
"William's qi is very strong." She shook her head, ready to argue, but he spoke firmly. "Qi is energy, not intelligence. Sometimes the lowest beast has the strongest qi. The boy's energy presence... believe me when I say it is very strong."
Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know this?"
He shrugged. "I feel it. I have purified my energy to the extent that I can feel very strong fields." He did not admit that the reason he was so sensitive was that his energy was so very weak. Instead, he focused on her. "You also are very strong."
"And my parents?"
He sighed. "Your father is very weak. You should not be surprised by that."
She nodded, and her words came out on a sigh. "Weak in will, weak in discipline."
"But your mother is very strong. Her prayers make her very powerful."
Charlotte tilted her head. "So, I should pray to make William better? Just like my mother..."
Her voice trailed away as he shook his head. How to explain an entire philosophy in one moment? "Your mother's qi is strong, but she focuses that energy on making William into her punishment."
"But she is praying to make him better!"
He shook his head. "She is praying to absolve her sins, which she believes will make William better. She does not support him, Miss Charlotte. She makes him into a divine tool to beat herself."
"And that's why he has episodes?"
"What happened just before his last fit?"
"My mother..." She swallowed and looked away. "My mother went in to comfort him. But she was probably angry. My father was gone all night. She said..." Charlotte pushed out of her chair. "She said William's fit was God's punishment because father was gone all night."
"And her energy would have pushed exactly that thought onto William."
"Creating the fit?"
Ken Jin nodded. "I believe so."
She stared at him. She stood before the fire, the hot coals creating visible waves of heat and light about her body, and yet the energy went nowhere. It was like the energy of many barbarians: all-enveloping but chaotic. It usually dissipated without direction or focus.
"Where did you learn this, Ken Jin? It sounds very odd."
He looked down at his hands. He should have known better than to expect a white person to grasp this concept, especially a woman. And yet, he desperately wished her to understand. A yin goddess should know what she was.
"You have such power, Miss Charlotte. You should learn to direct it."
"I thought we were supposed to 'grow naturally, without interference.'"
He pushed to his feet, irritated with himself for trying so hard. The barbarians did not understand the nature of things, they would not even try. Why was he wasting his breath? "Your qi has grown, Miss Charlotte. It has grown to the size of a great river of molten gold, but it is not refined and it is not directed. It can do no good for anyone in that state."
She folded her arms, no doubt responding to his angry tone. "I want to help William, not—"
"William must be left in peace, to grow as his energies direct, but your mother will not allow that."
She growled in frustration. "I cannot change my mother. I am not even sure I should." She reached up and toyed with the crucifix that hung just above the mantel. There was at least one in every room, four in the nursery. "My people put a great deal of faith in our God."
"Does your God direct that a child should be a punishment to the parents?"
She bit her lip. He knew she and her priest argued the point constantly. "Father Peter believes in vengeance, that sin is punished."
He nodded. "I believe our energies create our punishments." He waited for her to make a decision. When she did not, he pushed her. "What do
you
believe, Miss Charlotte?"
She turned back to the fire, gazing deep into the coals as if the answer was written in the shifting patterns of light and heat. Finally she spoke, her voice a low crackle of sound. "I believe that my mother's prayers have not worked."
She abruptly straightened. She had been so drawn to the flame, so connected to it, for a moment it seemed to Ken Jin that she had stepped out from the hearth, growing from the flames into a living, breathing woman of fire. Her energy infused the room and tingled against his skin. "What must I do?" she asked.
He straightened, doing his best not to smile. "You must take off all your clothes."
She didn't react at first; she simply stared at him. But he knew white women. He had spent many years harvesting yin from virgins and trollops alike. All they needed was a reason. Usually he talked about pleasure, explained away their fears, whatever they were, and eventually they all surrendered to him. Miss Charlotte would be no different. Especially since she now had the best reason of all to surrender: She needed to purify her yin. She needed to understand how to use the power she possessed.
None of his thoughts showed on his face. Virgins, he knew, were especially skittish. But in time Charlotte released a soft exhale, surrender expressed in the most feminine of sounds. Ken Jin took a step forward to assist her with her clothing.
"I thought you were different, Ken Jin. I thought..." Her voice broke on the last word, and he frowned at her in confusion. Then she took a deep breath and focused. Her next words were delivered with strength and the heady power of full qi.
"Go pack your bags, Ken Jin. You're fired."
* * *
March 1, 1889
To Tigress Tan Shi Po:
Your assistant does indeed seem a most excellent young man. I envy you his strength and influence. Alas, I know of no magician who can aid him in reclaiming all that was lost to him. As much as he may wish to reunite with his family, other forces conspire against him.
I understand the difficulty of an insane family. You recall that my son and daughter-in-law are acupuncturists. They daily cleanse and strengthen their patients' qi energies, and yet they have the hardest hearts and most clogged energies of all. Even their last remaining son—the new heir—learns to close his ears to all I might teach them.
Evil indeed befalls all when the young refuse to listen to the wisdom of their elders.
In great pain,
Wen Ai Men
SPIRITUAL PRACTICES FOR TRANSFORMING ANGER: Press BIO (Heavenly Pillar, located on the back of your upper neck one finger-width below your skull and one finger-width out from the center of the spine on both sides.)... Press CV17 (Sea of Tranquility, located on the center of the breastbone, four finger-widths up from the bone's base).
Acupressure for Emotional Healing
Michael Gach, Ph.D, Beth Henning, Dipl, ABT
Chapter 7