Secret of a Thousand Beauties (20 page)

Two middle-aged women who had been hired to supervise the rituals helped me into the enclosed red palanquin. Little Doll and the others were to take another one following mine. To my surprise, the man I had been waiting so anxiously to meet, my about-to-be husband Li Wenyi, was already inside. He smiled happily and I smiled back, lowering my head. I couldn’t help but feel delighted that he was as handsome as he was in his picture.

“Spring Swallow”—he took my hand—“sorry for my late arrival. I’ve been eager to meet you. You are even prettier than I expected. I am a very happy and lucky man.”

I didn’t know how to respond to this, so I just kept smiling and letting him hold my hand. Soon the palanquin was lifted and we were on our way. A large group of people followed us, children laughing and screaming, while the adults shouted good-luck sayings.

“Your good karma from previous lives. Happy union this life!”

“One-hundred-year blissful union!”

“Happy marriage, hearts forever linked together!”

When we finally arrived at the wedding hall, a few maids appeared to steer me inside, with Wenyi following behind. Then we were led to kneel in front of the family altar, watched silently by the Li family’s ancestral portraits. Old Li, his daughter, Ping, all the relatives, staff, and servants smiled happily, except Little Doll—to my surprise. I gave her a stern look to remind her to behave properly and act happy.

After Li Wenyi and I kowtowed and made offerings to all the ancestors, and to Old Li and Ping, a maid and a servant helped us to stand back up.

Suddenly I understood everything: Little Doll’s strange expression; Old Li’s urgent arrangement of the marriage; lack of a matchmaker and dowry; Wenyi’s non-appearance until this moment.

For my new husband’s left leg was severely damaged, bending at a very awkward angle. He could hardly walk. I sighed inside. Though I was very young, life was continuing to teach me that nothing is what it seems....

That evening, during the banquet, I drank one cup of celebratory wine after another. Everything was a blur until Wenyi and I entered the bedroom, when I immediately passed out.

The next morning I awakened with a terrible headache and no memory of what had passed during our dragon and phoenix night. I even hoped it was all a bad dream, but as I looked around the room, tall red candles, sweet buns dyed red, and piles of red-wrapped gifts were everywhere, leaving no doubt that a wedding had just occurred. And to remove any possible uncertainty, my new husband was snoring beside me.

When he finally woke up, it turned out that Wenyi and I had little to say to each other. After a few minutes of desultory conversation he left me alone and went off somewhere.

When the maid came to fix the marital bed, I saw lotus seeds underneath our pillows.

I asked her about this and she said, “Young mistress, you don’t know? That’s for you to have babies!”

The word for lotus seed,
lianzi,
also meant “continuous births of sons.” The Li family put them underneath our pillows so I’d bear the family many sons, not knowing that now I did not need lotus seeds to be pregnant.

I’d thought that in my current condition almost any husband would be better than none. But I was wrong. It wasn’t that Wenyi was a cripple, for I didn’t think I was much better considering that I’d been a wild child, a ghost wife, a runaway bride, and was now married despite a vow of celibacy. The cause of our troubles together was simple: He was a bad husband and a bad person.

Not long after the wedding, I heard two maids gossiping and found out what was behind Old Li’s haste in marrying off his son. Wenyi was a compulsive gambler. His main subjects of study in Peking were whores and roulette. When he had frittered away all of his father’s allowance each month, he would borrow more from loan sharks and promptly lose it all in the casino. He promised to pay it all back when his lucky day came, but it never did. The loan shark’s men finally came after him and beat him severely, smashing his kneecap with an iron club.

Old Li hoped that if he brought his son home where he could keep an eye on him and married him off, perhaps he would reform. But word of his dissolute lifestyle had reached Soochow, and none of the local families would consider him for their daughters. So though I may not have fitted their social aspirations, I was handy.

That Wenyi had little to say to me did not mean I was excused from my nightly duties. Whenever he demanded the “pleasure of the fish in the water,” I blew out the candle and did my best to shut down my mind. I kept telling myself I had to be patient until my baby was born. Then I would figure out something.

21

A
month later, I announced my pregnancy to the Li family. Everyone was overjoyed, especially Old Li, who was desperate for a grandson and heir to carry on the family line. I did feel a bit guilty that the heir would not really be his. But then he’d also tricked me into marrying his good-for-nothing son, so I thought our scores were even.

As the saying goes, “It’s easier to change mountains and rivers than a person’s character.” Old Li’s hopes that marriage and a wife who was expecting would reform his son were disappointed. Wenyi did hang around the Golden Thread salesroom under the pretense of learning his father’s business, but he mostly read the newspapers and chatted with the women who came into the shop, at least if they were young and pretty. One other thing at Golden Thread did hold his interest and that was the cash drawer. There was no doubt that he was stealing from his father, and I often heard Old Li berating him about the missing money, but to no avail.

Finally, Old Li seemed to give up on his son and instead gave his attention to the “grandchild” in my belly. He encouraged his daughter to cook me all kinds of nutritious foods and tasty soup to boost both my and my baby’s energy. Though I had a good appetite, I couldn’t possibly consume all the food: bird’s nest to smooth my skin, abalone to nourish my
yin
parts, fish maw to provide me with protein, albizia flower and licorice soup to soothe my nerves.

Little Doll was even more devoted to me now, following me everywhere and making sure I did not lift anything heavy or otherwise tire myself. I no longer had to wait on customers, but in the afternoons, when my morning sickness had worn off, I would help Old Li with the sales records and bookkeeping.

As the days and weeks passed, my belly kept getting bigger, but my husband was around less. Although Wenyi never told me where he went in the evenings, I heard rumors from people going in and out of the store. He now spent his evenings drinking, gambling, smoking opium, and visiting other women. Though I didn’t like this, the truth was, I was more than happy to be left alone.

Whenever I asked Old Li about his son’s whereabouts, all he ever said was, “Don’t worry, just take good care of my grandson.”

I greatly missed my baby’s father—my true love, Shen Feng. Whenever I felt movements in my belly, I would think about Shen Feng and our days together—which were so few—on the mountain. Someday, when my child was old enough to understand, I would explain how its brave revolutionary father had died helping build a better China.

 

One evening I decided to follow Wenyi to see if the rumors were true. As he was dressing to go out, I asked, “Wenyi, why don’t you have dinner with us first?”

“I wish I could, but I’m having dinner with a businessman from Peking.”

I lowered my head submissively, and said, “Then please don’t drink too much and come back early.”

Wenyi grimaced and pushed through the door without saying good-bye. As soon as he was about ten feet down the road I also left, following him. I knew his mind was on his plans for the evening and he would not look behind him. I assumed he was on his way to gamble away whatever had stuck to his sticky fingers from that day’s sales. Nothing made me think he was honest, but I needed to know for sure.

Soon he hailed a rickshaw and I immediately hailed one to follow him. His rickshaw traveled straight for minutes, then began to turn corners and alleys until it finally stopped in front of an imposing mansion. He got off and walked in as quickly as his twisted leg would allow. I waited until the door had closed behind him, then paid and alighted.

The building was two stories high, with red ribbons wrapped around its balconies and red, yellow, green lanterns hanging from the roof. Over the door was a plaque with the words “Rain Flower Pavilion” in gold characters against a black background. A muscular man stood guard at the gate, looking bored. I stayed under the shadow of a large tree, where I would not be noticed.

Over the next few minutes, several guests were admitted, all well-dressed and all male. Then a big carriage arrived and several men started to climb out. They were laughing loudly but walking in a tipsy fashion, so the guard went to the carriage to help them out. While the guard was engaged with these clients, I hastened through the door.

Inside, the lavish décor spoke wealth and decadence. No one paid any attention to me, so I was able to conceal myself behind a thick pillar to observe the strange scene that presented itself to my eyes. The walls were decorated with large paintings of flowers and calligraphy with good-luck sayings. Fresh flowers in ceramic pots gave out pleasant fragrances. Men were sitting around tables enjoying a sumptuous banquet, while beautiful ladies in elegant gowns hovered over them. At other tables, mahjong was being played, accompanied by laughter and shouts, while other women, equally beautiful, encouraged the gamblers to raise their bets. A few women worked the crowd, bearing trays laden with drinks, snacks, cigarettes, hot towels.

Then my attention was drawn to a small stage in the center from which lively tunes spilled out over the audience. Almost everything on the stage was decorated in pink—curtains, tablecloths, carpets, even the pretty young woman who was playing the
pipa
and singing.

When I was taking in this scene, a harsh voice next to my ear demanded, “Miss, what are you doing here?”

I turned and saw a middle-aged, big-bosomed woman staring at my belly.

I stuttered. “I’m looking for—”

But she cut me off, smiling excitedly. “Miss, if you’re looking for a job, you’re in the right place.”

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have another place to work in case things didn’t work out with the Li family.

“You need someone for accounting and bookkeeping? I can do that.”

“Come with me so we can talk quietly.” She chuckled, then led me to a hidden corner with a table and two chairs.

After we sat, she spoke again in her rough voice. “Miss, you really come at the right moment.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because people like you are in demand and are hard to find.”

“So you have work for me?”

She smiled, her eyes lingering on my stomach. “Recently a few of our customers ask for sisters like you. . . .”

I was getting confused and nervous. “What sisters like me? I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Now she cast me a sharp glance. “What’s the matter with you? You came here . . . and now you want to play games with me? People in Rain Flower Pavilion are not to be messed with!”

“I’m not messing with anyone; I’ve just come here to look for my husband.”

“Ha! Don’t make me laugh! Most respectable pregnant women wouldn’t come here, let alone to look for her husband, if you really have one!”

I didn’t know how to respond to this.

“All right, this is how it is. We’ll pay you a lot because a very rich customer’s been asking for a pregnant sister.”

“But what does this have to do with me?”

“It’ll have everything to do with you if you know how much this salt merchant is willing to pay.”

“Pay for what?”

Finally, she studied me with a different expression. “Huh, are you
really
that naïve?” She paused, then exclaimed, “Don’t you know this is a prostitution house?!”

Now I suddenly saw the lavish décor, flirtatious women, and fierce-looking guards in a new light.

“But I’m not a prostitute!”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I told you I’m looking for my husband.”

“Your husband, what’s his name?”

“Li Wenyi.”

“There’s never a Li Wenyi here.”

“But I saw him enter this mansion.”

“Huh, then either he entered the neighboring establishment or he uses another name here. Smart, hahaha!”

She cast me another glance, then said, “All right, I believe you, so you better leave right now. But when you go home, think about my offer. Come back and let me know if you want a big bundle of cash, huh, little pretty? And forget about your husband. If he goes to a prostitution house, then it’s fair that you work at one, right?”

She winked and walked away abruptly.

I still wondered if Wenyi was here. But there were so many rooms both downstairs and upstairs, and I couldn’t just go around peeking into all of them. And one of the mean-looking guards was eyeing me, so I was getting frightened and decided to get out as quickly as I could. But just as I was heading toward the door, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I turned and saw the singer. “Come to my room, we need to talk,” she said in an insistent whisper.

I didn’t have a chance to say no, for she’d already pulled me inside. The room was nicely decorated with a
luohan
bed, an Eight-Immortals table with tea utensils and plates of snacks, flower and bird paintings on the walls, and fresh flowers in large, ceramic vases.

After we sat down, she looked at me intently. “You don’t know who I am?”

“You’re the musician who’s just played and sung.”

She shook her head. “You really don’t recognize me, do you, Spring Swallow?”

I was startled that she knew my name.

But before I had a chance to say anything, she exclaimed, “I’m Purple, your big sister!”

“Purple?”

“Yes!”

Now I looked at her carefully and could discern her familiar features under her heavy makeup. Instead of the two pigtails she’d always worn, her hair was now piled up high on her head, held up by hairpins with tasseled jewels and adorned with flowers. Instead of the simple cotton top and pants I was used to seeing on her, she wore an elaborately embroidered, high-collar pink jacket over a matching long dress.

She looked very excited, but I really didn’t know whether I was happy to see her. All I could think was that my celibate embroidery sister had somehow turned into a prostitute.

“Sister Purple, how come you work in a . . . I thought you would be married to Jiang by now and living your new life in Peking.”

She sighed heavily. “
Hai,
it’s a sad story, if you want to listen.”

“Of course I want to.”

But she stared at my bulging stomach. “Spring Swallow, don’t tell me that you are. . . .”

“Yes, I’m five months’ pregnant.”

“So you’re . . . married—I hope?”

I nodded.

“Then what are you here for?”

“To find my husband.”

She sighed again. “Hmm . . . that doesn’t sound good. Tell me about him.”

I shook my head. “Please, Sister Purple, tell me about you first.”

“All right, but let’s have some tea.” She picked up the teapot and poured us full cups.

After we sipped for a while, she began. “I’m sorry I left without a proper good-bye. I had planned to stay to help Aunty redo
Along the River.
But she asked you instead of me to be the lead embroiderer.

“After I left, I went straight to the train station and boarded the next train for Peking. When I arrived at Jiang’s address, the landlord told me he’d moved out—with a young woman—and hadn’t left any forwarding address. At that moment my whole world collapsed. Then, because I had almost no money, I came back. If I died, better it be in my hometown.”

“But, Sister Purple, I thought the two of you were truly in love.”

She tilted her head and laughed without humor. “That’s what I thought too. But now I think it was only I who was
truly
in love.”

Silence passed and she went on. “After I came back, I felt too humiliated to ask Aunty to take me back.”

She paused, looking at the floor. “Spring Swallow, I really had no place to go, so here I am.”

“Do you regret being . . .” I couldn’t say the word
prostitute.

“An entertainer? If you want the truth, it’s yes and no. No one wants to be this kind of woman, even at an expensive establishment. But working here numbs my mind and feelings so I don’t have to think of Jiang and his cruel betrayal.

“The truth is”—she looked at me with teary eyes—“even if I’m not happy here, I make good money from my many wealthy admirers.”

“I didn’t know that you can play the
pipa
and sing.”

She laughed. “The Mama here said I look different from the other girls, because I have an artistic temperament. So I can attract certain customers like scholars, or vulgar men aspiring to be artistic. So she made another girl teach me. I learned fast. Anyway, if I make mistakes, the men here don’t care.”

“Sister Purple, do you have any other plans?”

“Now I know that it’s pointless to plan for anything. Heaven decides, not us.”

We remained silent for a while, absorbing each other’s presence.

Then she asked, “What about you, Spring Swallow, what happened to you after I left?”

I told her everything—almost. I told her about Shen Feng, but not that I was carrying his baby, not Wenyi’s. Nor about my finding Aunty’s secret chamber and taking the imperial undergarment.

Purple took my hands in hers. “Spring Swallow, I’m so sorry to hear about Shen Feng’s death, and, of course, about Aunty’s troubles. But I’m glad that Little Doll is with you and that she’s doing well. It’s good luck that you married again so soon and got pregnant quickly. Your husband—maybe he will change after the baby is born.”

I smiled but didn’t reply. It was a kind thought, but I knew that Wenyi was rotten beyond salvation. I wondered about Purple and Jiang, if there was more that she hadn’t told me. But whatever had happened, the result was that she now worked in a prostitution house. So in comparison to her, maybe I should consider myself lucky.

I asked, “Sister Purple, do you plan to leave here someday?”

She sighed. “Yes, but I need to make more money first.” She laughed sarcastically. “Problem is, after one has tasted the goodness of money, then what you have is never enough.”