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Authors: Mingmei Yip

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Song of the Silk Road (15 page)

BOOK: Song of the Silk Road
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The monk spoke. “You’re lucky. Tonight the moon will be big and full, so I feel generous to share. These”—his fingers caressed the crystals—“are the Buddha’s relics, or
sharira
.”
“But . . . didn’t the Buddha live more than two thousand years ago? So how . . . can this be possible?” I asked, though I did feel a strong connection with the
sharira
.
“Our temple was destroyed by the red guards during the Cultural Revolution. To save the treasures, my master and two of his disciples disguised themselves as farmers and carried them up here to hide them. In the past, we didn’t even have stairs. It was only two years ago that Pure Wisdom built them, but due to the constant strong wind there’s nothing much left.”
“Were the stairs built for visitors?”
“No. One time I hurt my leg, so he built them to ease my climb.”
“Then how did your master climb up here?”
“We all practice martial arts since childhood. Have you heard of the ‘floating martial arts’ or the ‘lizard kung fu’?”
“I’ve seen them in Hong Kong kung fu movies.”
“Ha, those are fakes, but what we practice is real. Or surreal when you actually see it. Tomorrow I’ll ask Pure Wisdom to perform for you.”
“Thank you, I’d really love to see it.”
“Everybody does. Today I’ve let you see more than I should, and you’ve accumulated lots of merits by glimpsing the two most valuable treasures here. You might even gain some supernatural power from their aura.”
Floating Cloud wrapped up the statue, put it inside the box, and carefully placed it back on the shelf. After that, he gestured for me to leave. We both bowed, but my feet dragged as I was reluctant to separate from the strong, soothing energy of the Buddha.
After the library visit, I found Floating Cloud not only much less intimidating but also much more appealing. I was starting to like this square-jawed floating cloud and his secret chamber.
15
Seduction of a Monk
S
itting on the skimpy mattress in my room, I was finally left alone to reflect on this weird temple and the even weirder Floating Cloud. Since he was manly, he shouldn’t be hard to seduce. But still, I’d known him for less than twenty-four hours. Was there a skillful Dao of Seduction that seemed artless and spontaneous?
I hoped the sex part would not be too painful or perverse. Although since my teens I’d tried a few daring poses with my different boyfriends, I’d never heard of this hanging-upside-down-lotus, and the upside down part made me nervous. Back in New York, I’d looked it up at the New York Public Library and found a description of this posture in the two-hundred-year-old
Erotic Art of China.
The book, a sex manual referred to as
The Spring Palace Pictures,
was supposedly meant to educate newlyweds in the art of the bedchamber. For each pose there was a picture and a poem. The one for hanging-upside-down-lotus read:
A baby swallow floats in the Spring wind.
The evening is seductive and the breeze saturated with desire.
Swing, swing to the joy of balancing the
yin
and
yang!
The swinging beauty, her dress blown open to welcome the erotic hands of the wind, unabashedly reveals herself.
The gentleman keeps thrusting, his desire aroused by the intoxicating scenery blooming with thousands of charms!
To prepare myself for my performance of this alternate “lotus” position—definitely different from the meditative one—I tried to memorize the poem until I gradually fell into a troubled sleep.
The following morning, during the simple breakfast of vegetable buns, soup, and soy milk, I told the two monks I was not feeling well and asked if they could kindly let me stay for a few more days.
Floating Cloud gulped down his last drop of soup. “Of course. Stay as long as you want. Later Pure Wisdom will go to the city to get more food and also medicine for you.”
I turned to the young monk. “I’m so sorry to trouble young
Shifu
.”
“No trouble, Miss Chen.” He smiled demurely. “I love going to the market.” Then he blushed, as if realizing he’d just said something inappropriate.
Floating Cloud cast his disciple a chiding glance, then turned back to me. “Pure Wisdom is only nineteen, still a boy who loves to play. But he’s also a good boy who works hard and does the errands here.”
Then, I wondered, why had he become a monk? But I swallowed the question together with a big mouthful of my bun.
The master studied me hard. “After breakfast, you rest for a while, then come join us for our morning practice.”
I was eager to learn more about the monks and their rituals, but I had to feign sickness, at least for a while, so I said, “Thank you, Master, I’d love to join you two, but I’m really exhausted.”
It was the first time that Floating Cloud’s eyes adopted a tender look. “Of course, then go back to sleep. If you’re feeling better later, come for our afternoon practice.”
Back inside my room, I sat on the bed, took out Mindy Madison’s document, and stared at her instructions:
Seduce the monk and have sex with him in the “hanging-upside-down-lotus” position. If he screams “Oomarulang” during climax, he is the right one. Other instruction follows.
Feeling a headache coming, I drank water, then inhaled deeply to calm myself. As I tried to settle my spinning mind, I wondered, what did I think I was doing. Was I really going to have strange sex with a stranger monk in a dilapidated temple on a mountain with no stairs?
My better judgment told me I should sneak away from the temple right now and end the whole thing. But alas, I felt so paranoid that I couldn’t even pull myself up from the bed!
I’d fallen deeply asleep when I heard gentle knocks on the door. It was Pure Wisdom.
“Miss Chen, Master invites you to join us for afternoon meditation.”
I thanked the young monk, then followed him to the main room, where Floating Cloud said we’d all go outside to do walking meditation.
“That will do your troubled mind good, Miss Chen.”
He could tell my mind was troubled? Could he also tell that I was going to seduce him?
Thank God that the walking meditation in the fresh air was very pleasant and somewhat soothed my tortured nerves. Floating Cloud taught me how to put my hands together in the form of a lotus bud. “Imagine this is your beginner’s mind, which sees the world with fresh eyes.”
I liked this idea of the beginner’s mind, and the lotus bud was easy to form and looked very elegant. However, it also seemed the right moment to signal that I was attracted to him. So I feigned difficulty forming the correct hand placement and Floating Cloud was obliged to demonstrate by touching and even holding my hand. Although the monk kept his face adamantly emotionless, I could feel the heat emanating from his strong torso. I also noticed the big beads of perspiration forming on his forehead. Good, my message had been successfully sent!
The teenage Pure Wisdom seemed to be completely oblivious of what was going on in this sex-tinged meditation. Maybe his young mind was filled with the wicked pleasures of the marketplace—tasty, forbidden meat, washed down with a bottle of chilled beer!
Minutes later we arrived at a big boulder, shaped, surprisingly, like a sitting Buddha.
Floating Cloud said, “When my master escaped to this mountain, the first thing he saw was this boulder. He knew right away that here was where his karma would unfurl, and that of his disciples.” The monk pointed to the view below. “Now they’re over there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Master passed away a few years ago at the age of one hundred and three, outliving one of his two disciples. Their ashes were scattered in the wind.”
Gone with the Wind. Literally. The image was both so poetic and sad. But I kept this thought to myself.
“Then where is the other disciple?”
“Right in front of your eyes.”
“Oh. . . .”
We fell silent, and Floating Cloud led us to circumambulate the Buddha-like boulder three times. After that, he said it was time for a break.
I went straight back to my room to rest—and plot the seduction of the monk. My heart pounded. Whether fortunately or not, I was finding myself more and more attracted to this floating cloud.
Half an hour later I went back to the main room for tea and a snack. After that, I tried my best to keep Floating Cloud’s attention by asking questions about Buddhism and his life on the mountain. During our conversations, I kept my eyes staring deeply into his. When I was wondering if he’d gotten my message, his hand fleetingly brushed mine as he picked up the teapot.
Before I could think of the best way to respond, Floating Cloud spoke. “Let’s move to the courtyard. Pure Wisdom will perform his impossible stunts for you.”
In the late afternoon, the courtyard wore a different face—sleepy and eerily quiet. Below, I could see the purplish haze, and above, the all-knowing, pale gray sky. Pure Wisdom had changed from his loose gray Buddhist robe into a yellow, body-hugging kung fu outfit.
Expression serious and hands balled into fists, he bowed first to his master, then me. “Master and honorable rare guest, now your humble servant is going to demonstrate his inadequate skill.”
I smiled, feeling pleased by this young man’s pretended humble way of saying, “Watch out, now I’m going to show off my ultimate kung fu!”
And then, the young monk was defying gravity by
walking
perpendicularly up the temple wall! Before I had a chance to applaud his impossible stunt, Pure Wisdom was back on solid ground. But a moment later he had jumped high up onto a tree and was
flying
from branch to branch. In a few seconds, he disappeared from sight, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and crackling branches.
When I was about to ask Floating Cloud where his disciple had gone, the young monk was already standing in front of us, smiling proudly.
“I can’t believe it! Pure Wisdom, how did you do it? Is it an illusion?”
Now it was his master’s turn to smile proudly. “Buddhism tells us life is illusion, but there is no illusion in real kung fu, only daily, bitter practice. I’ve been teaching him since he was three. Not many people can stand my grueling, inhuman training.”
Inhuman?
Face flushed a glowing pink, the young monk said demurely, “Miss Chen, my kung fu is nothing in comparison to my master’s.”
I turned to Floating Cloud. “Would the master also kindly reveal his consummate skill from his years of bitterest practice?”
“That will not be necessary.” He shook his head, bright and round like a bronze mirror.
“But . . .”
He cut me off. “All right, let’s all retire early today. Pure Wisdom will go get food and some medicine for you. He’ll leave in a few minutes and won’t be back till tomorrow.”
“Please don’t inconvenience yourself. I’m not sick, just tired.”
“He doesn’t mind. I know he just can’t wait to get away from the temple, especially me, if only for a few hours.”
We all laughed.
Floating Cloud spoke again. “Miss Chen, supper has already been put outside your room. Please eat on your own. We monks have to follow the religious rule of abstinence from food after noon.”
Walking away, I couldn’t believe my good luck that Pure Wisdom was leaving me alone with his master. What perfect timing for me to seduce him. Then a thought hit me. What if Floating Cloud was sending his disciple away so he could seduce me?
Outside my room, I saw a tray with two buns, a bowl of rice soup, a thermos of tea, and a pair of chopsticks, all neatly arranged. After I ate, I washed my face, set my alarm to wake me up in forty-five minutes, then went to bed for a quick nap.
When the alarm woke me, I let down my long hair and meticulously combed my three-thousand-threads-of-trouble. Then I put on makeup and changed into a dress—nothing fancy, but shapely and leg-revealing.
Of course there was no mirror in this temple for bald-headed monks. But I had a small one in my backpack, so I used it to carefully inspect my face.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?
There was no mirror on the wall, and I had no competition as to who was the fairest in the temple hall. I felt happy at what looked back at me.
Then I sighed, already feeling the sexual tension in the air.
I walked all over the small temple, but Floating Cloud was nowhere to be seen. Another fear seized me. Could the two monks have gone together, leaving me all by myself in this isolated temple?
I headed for the Buddha-shaped boulder, planning to meditate to settle my mind. As taught by Floating Cloud, I walked around the boulder three times with my hands in the form of a lotus bud. When finished, I strolled around to see if I could find Floating Cloud. But only the faint sounds of rustling leaves, buzzing insects, and chirping birds reached my ears.
After walking for another few minutes, I heard an unfamiliar sound. I could not tell if it was the heavy breathing of a human, or something inhuman. Perhaps I could put my
yin
eye to use in finding the creature emitting the sound. Heart pounding, I hurried about trying to trace its source. While I continued walking, the sky was getting dark quickly, and I feared I had lost my way. Then the sound came again from close by, and I recognized that it was human.
It was a man’s heavy breathing and sighing. I moved around to trace the sound and noticed that it came from behind a boulder. It was Floating Cloud! What was he doing here in the dark all by himself? Executing his bitter practice under the full moon? When I stepped closer and peeked over the boulder, I saw the silhouette of his broad back crisply outlined by the dim mountain view below. To my puzzlement, his body seemed to be jerking violently. Was he injured? A few seconds later when I realized what was going on, my hand involuntarily slapped over my mouth and my feet fell back a few steps.
Floating Cloud was masturbating, right here on the temple grounds!
Unexpectedly, a deep sympathy crawled up inside me as a pool of heat rose between my legs. I took a few deep breaths. Then, feeling generous and fearless, I walked straight up to him and embraced his thick torso from behind. I buried my face in his muscular neck—like a child his mother. The monk didn’t act surprised at all by my “ambush.” Instead, he grabbed my hands and pulled me tighter against him. Then his hand directed mine to hold his sex, now damp and puffed hard like a poisonous fish.
Finally the monk turned to face me, and our lips instantly stuck together. After a long, entangled kung fu stunt with our tongues and limbs, he took off my clothes, flung them to the ground, and with his muscular arms lifted me up to a strong, wide branch of an ancient tree. He kneaded my breasts with his deft, lotus-bud-forming hands, alternating with sucking my nipples hungrily with his sutra-chanting lips. I moaned and howled and screamed as if in pain. My body trembled as if thrown into hellfire or submerged in freezing water. When he finally parted my legs and entered me, he did that with such sheer power, pure
yang
energy, and fierce concentration that I was sure this sexual kung fu must be the result of his bitterest practice.
BOOK: Song of the Silk Road
12.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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