The Concubine's Daughter (26 page)

BOOK: The Concubine's Daughter
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Grasping for an excuse that would not seem too obvious, he seized the first that came to mind: two small changes that had been made to his private domain since she had taken charge of it. “There have always
been vases of my favorite English flowers, fresh cut from the garden every day. Did the Fish not tell you?”

“She was careful to instruct me in all such things of importance to you. I beg forgiveness if I have caused you concern, but the flowers can be seen so perfectly through the open doors and windows, I could not bring myself to cut off their heads just to watch them slowly die.”

He indicated the tall vases crammed with sprigs of blossom, branches of sesame, fir, and Cyprus pine. “Then what of these—are they not also cut down in their moment of triumph?” At that moment, she no longer felt like a servant before a master, but an equal voice. It pleased her to be knowledgeable of something that he was not. “The blossoms of the peach and plum are not meant to endure. Their life is brief, but they bring new growth and fresh leaves. This is why they are the symbol of Chinese New Year.”

He seemed satisfied with her answer to his question and immediately asked another, pointing to the little cage that hung above the balcony, its door open, the bird flown. “There was a rare songbird in this cage, a crested lark found only in the mountains of Hunan. Such a bird is hard to find and costly to buy. For five years it has awakened me with its melody; now it is gone.”

“A bird that is caged, no matter how common or how rare, sings because it has to. A bird that is free sings when it wants to. The song of the free bird is always sweeter.

“Do the birds not still wake you from the trees with songs as sweet as any other? In the country where I was born, they say there is no sweeter song than of a sparrow in a field of corn. It sings because the harvest is golden, yet the sparrow has no fine feathers and is given no respect. It has no value among songbirds.” Li waited to see if her reply had gone too far, then added, “But these are nothing more than things that seem true to me, and of no other value.”

Ben did not ask if the mountain lark owed its freedom to her; he was quite sure that it did, but had no wish to make her admit it. Instead, he moved to open a drawer in his desk and remove a small oblong box beautifully inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl. He lifted a fine gold chain from it.

“Your opinions on such things are as wise as those of the immortal Sau-Sing-Kung, the eldest of all great sages, and as fresh as those of a child’s first thoughts. They are of more value than you know.” He held out his hand to her. “Give me your golden guinea.”

Had she displeased him after all? Obediently, Li dropped the gold coin into his open palm. “This chain once belonged to my mother. She died when I was born, so I have only my father’s word that it was hers, but he too has gone.” His large fingers, surprisingly delicate, attached the guinea to the chain. Stepping close, he slipped it over her head. “This is my New Year’s gift to you.”

As he placed the coin around her neck, her nearness claimed his senses so strongly he knew he must step back. Li felt the quickening rhythm of her heart as she stood for a long moment without moving, her fingertips tracing the fine links of the chain to the solid weight of the precious coin against her skin. She would have looked up at him then, but could not move. “How do you know of the great sage Sau-Sing Kung?” was all she could find to say.

“There are many things I know about your great country that are wise beyond all others, and these have taught me much.” He hesitated for a second. “I also know of things that are not at all wise … and these I cannot accept. But no more than those of my own people.”

In that brief moment of honesty, Li felt closer to him than she could admit. “I have done nothing to deserve such a priceless gift,” she said. “The kumquat tree is of no value and will soon wither and die. This is my first piece of gold, as it was once yours. It will stay with me forever.”

“The kumquat tree may also remain beautiful forever, if it is cared for. If its roots are strong and it is treated as it should be, it will grow even stronger and more beautiful. With its growth will come new fruit, bigger and more plentiful.”

Ben’s gentle finger lifted her chin, causing her to look directly into his eyes. “Let us speak just once of giving and taking. You did not ask me to come into your life. You were given no choice in the matter, nor can I be sure what made me bring you here. But it is done, and I am now responsible for your future, which I am both pleased and ready to be. I offer
you whatever is needed to allow you to live the life of your own choice. Choice is the greatest of all gifts. It was brutally stolen from you, yet you blamed no one and did not cry for help. You played the cards you were dealt, and this I admire. I ask for nothing in return but your trust.”

The touch of his lips on her forehead seemed the sealing of a pledge, the lifting of her chin a simple gesture. Its effect on Li was instant. She would have reached for him, but he stepped away.

“You must sleep now, but before you do, I ask you to consider what it is you wish for your future. Tomorrow we shall breakfast together here on the balcony.” He smiled, a light hand upon her arm as he led her to the door. “Can you cook?”

“Only the very simplest of dishes meant for those who work hard in the fields.”

“Then we shall eat the simplest of dishes, and perhaps you will tell me more about being a scholar, and we shall speak of faith and choices and questions of gold.”

Li was not sure if it was relief or disappointment that accompanied her back to her room. The great house had never been so empty and silent, yet his powerful presence followed her as surely as her own heartbeat. Even the sound of his voice stayed with her. She was glad to close the door to her own small space, to gather her thoughts as she held the golden coin on its glittering chain before her eyes, shining proof that this was not a dream.

The first day of the new year burst brightly through the windows of Sky House. The rooftops of the city lay silent, deserted after the chaos of Little New Year. Even the pigeons that usually circled the cathedral were still at rest in its belfry. There was an air of great promise as, behind closed doors, people rich or poor shared their hopes and planned their futures. It was too early for the visiting of friends and exchanging of lucky money.

Li had prepared a breakfast of steamed dumplings, rice congee spiced with salted shrimp and chopped chives, dragon’s eye fruit, and lychees
fresh from the garden. The dumplings and porridge were in bamboo steamers to keep them fresh and warm. She had made the English cow’s-milk tea, which the Fish had told her was his favorite, and set the pot into its padded raffia basket, beside it the folded
South China Morning Post
. He stepped in from the English garden as soon as she had set the tray down.

Something about him was different. At first she found it startling, so unexpected that she could only stare. His beard was gone; his newly shaved jaw, pale and smooth, showed more evidently the tinge of his Chinese heritage; a thin white scar ran down one cheek and across his chin. When he smiled, he looked much younger than she had thought him to be.
No longer the barbarian
, she said to her heart with a secret smile.

“Good morning, little sister.
Kung Hai Fat Choy
.” From behind his back, he held out a crowded bunch of small purple flowers. “Cornish violets, my favorite of all wildflowers.” Li took them with a bow, aware immediately of their exquisite perfume. “Good morning, young lord.
Kung Hai Fat Choy
.”

“Forgive me for picking them on this special occasion.” He laughed. “But there are plenty more to be found, and others will grow to replace them.” She felt his eyes upon her. He was pleased that he had made her face shine so.

“There are many flowers in heaven’s garden,” she breathed, “although none but these smell sweet as the breath of angels.”

Ben smiled. “They remind me of my boyhood. One sniff of Cornish violets and I am beside a hedgerow of hazelnuts and wild rose after the rain, watching the shadows chase each other across the moor.”

Holding out her chair, he insisted she take her seat before he sat down. “The personal assistant to the taipan does not bow and she does not stand while he sits.” There was a buoyant humor in his voice that put Li at ease. “This is not a day for business, or of masters and assistants; it is a day of discovery and preparation for the future. Let others gather their families around them and pray for prosperity, while we will do nothing that we do not wish to do.”

He passed a hand over the smoothness of his chin. “I have decided to
make some changes this New Year. It is a time of good luck and great opportunity, a year for bold decision and bolder action.

“First, I must ask you if you have a god of your own to pray to on this special day. If you must attend the temple, then I will wait for you.”

Li shook her head. “I once asked the gods for help, but I was too small for them to see or hear me. They were so many, I did not know which one to bow to, so I bowed to them all. Perhaps the fault was mine, but my prayer was not heard by any of them. I am bigger now, but still do not know which one I should turn to. In things of great importance, I trust my heart.”

He seemed pleased by her answer. “I have two gods,” he said lightly, “one of my own making, and the other of ancient China and my mother. I pray to them both on the first day of each New Year. They also reside here.” He held a hand to his chest. “So we are not so different.”

They ate the small steamed dumplings the Fish had taught her to make, filled with fresh crabmeat and shrimp. “We call these dumplings dim sum,” she said, placing some on his plate. “It means ‘touch the heart,’ small pleasures that make us happy and do not cost too much.”

When they had finished, he sat back and stretched his arms wide, clasping them behind his head with obvious pleasure. “This is the time and the place for you to tell me of your hopes for the future, and perhaps for me to tell you mine.” She needed no further coaxing. From her pocket she slid the orange-peel finger jade, unseen. Its smoothness comforted her fingers, and the chi of Pai-Ling entered her heart.

Li chose her words carefully. “You are a man of business. When you speak of it, you want matters to be clear.” Ben nodded his agreement. “With little help, I have learned to read and write Chinese well enough not to be thought a fool. I have become fast and sure enough with the abacus to survive in any marketplace without being cheated.”

Li sat forward in her seat. “I want to be of use to you, not merely in matters of tidiness and comfort. I want to develop skills and gain knowledge that can help you in the business of your company. I learn fast, and I wish for nothing more.”

He nodded.

“My mother dared to rise above the expectations and limitations of others more fortunate, and for that she was punished. They crippled her for the vanity and pleasure of stupid men, and so that she could not escape those who owned her. They allowed her nothing but the service of the fool who became my father. She killed herself because she thought I had been buried alive in the mustard field. They dumped her like a dog so that her ancestors could not find her.”

Ben was silenced by the pain in her eyes.

“I was spared by a white fox and cowardly superstition. Through this, perhaps, I received my mother’s spirit, and for that I too have been punished. If I have strength, if I have understanding beyond my years, it is because of her. I will not know happiness until she finds peace. Help me to become the scholar she was meant to be, a person of value, and I will serve you till the day I die.”

She ignored the tears that could not be stopped, searching his face for understanding. “I ask only one year to prove to you that I can learn to read and to write in your language, to calculate in your figures, and to understand your business and the ways of your people. You have said that this is a time of great opportunity and success.

“If after one year I do not satisfy your expectations, then I have taken the wrong path and I will leave Sky House, but you will not lose your investment in me. I will one day repay every copper coin that I may cost you one hundred times or more.”

“And if you are successful after one year? What would you wish to do?” he asked gently.

“That will be for you to decide. If you and my teachers think me worthy, I will continue to learn until I can be of true value to the Double Dragon wherever I am needed.” She closed the finger jade tightly in her fist. He seemed in no hurry to reply, and her heart sank at his silence.

“Tell me what you would you do that is not already done by someone else.” He smiled fondly. “How will you earn your pieces of gold?” Li lifted the pot to fill his cup. He tapped the table with his fingertips in the Chinese way of a silent thank-you.

“You have no comprador,” she replied confidently. “No Chinese who
watches your side of the scales. To the Chinese, your good faith and belief in honesty are virtues too often seen as weakness, even foolishness, especially in one from foreign lands. They will squeeze you in every way they can, and you will never know it without a comprador of your own that you can trust.”

BOOK: The Concubine's Daughter
7.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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