Peach Blossom Pavilion. Mingmei Yip

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ grabbed a fur coat and a woolen shawl from her sofa. ‘Now let’s go and exercise our charm!’ she exclaimed, then draped the shawl over my shoulders and pulled me out of the room.

      Just then Fang Rong scurried toward us in the corridor. Her huge breasts undulated like tidal waves under her embroidered red jacket. ‘Hurry up, Pearl, Mr. Chan is still in a meeting, but the car is already waiting downstairs. Your de and I will follow you in another car.’ Like a fortune teller sizing up a new client, Mama scru­tinised me for long moments, muttering, ‘Ah, so beautiful; proves my old, fussy eyes are still as sharp as a cleaver!’

      Outside Peach Blossom, a big, shiny, black car was waiting. Having spotted us, the uniformed and capped chauffeur came to our side and opened the door.

      When I was trying to crawl in, Pearl snatched me out. ‘Xiang Xiang, stop! That’s extremely vulgar. Watch me.’ She lowered herself onto the seat, then slowly swung in her legs. An expanse of thigh flashed through the slit of her dress.

      ‘But Sister Pearl,’ I said in a heated whisper so it wouldn’t be heard by the chauffeur, ‘I can see your entire thigh, even your under­wear!’

      After I’d gotten in, Pearl sat staring into the rearview mirror while smoothing her hair. She was still looking at her reflection when she said, ‘That’s the point, silly.’

      The car started to move. I was so elated to be out that for the entire trip I spoke not a word, shifting my eyes to take in all the passing scenery.

      After many turns, the car finally pulled to a stop in front of an ancient building with red-tiled roofs and white walls. Pearl and I got out of the car and walked toward the gate. Four big characters in walking-style calligraphy above the lintel read: WHITE CRANE IMMORTAL’S HALL.

      I turned to ask Pearl, ‘What is an immortal’s hall?’

      ‘A Taoist temple.’

      What did prostitutes have to do with Taoists and temples?

      As we stepped through the crimson gate, I finally asked, ‘Sister Pearl, why would someone hold a party in a temple?’

      ‘Ah, Xiang Xiang,’ Pearl threw me a chiding look, ‘the party we’re now going to attend is special, a yaji – elegant gathering. Tonight you’ll meet lots of important and famous people – artists, scholars, poets, actors, high government officials. Anyway, you’re lucky to be invited, so you can start to soak in the flavour of the arts.’ She paused to look at me meaningfully. ‘If you want to be a ming ji, that is. Do you want to?’

      I didn’t know whether to say yes or no. Maybe both. ‘Yes’ because I’d like to be prestigious, ‘no’ because, needless to say, I hated even to think of myself as a prostitute. Nevertheless, I knew the two words together signified something quite different. At Peach Blossom, I’d read fine poems and seen exquisite paintings by women – including Pearl – who bore this title. Among the cultivated, rather than being despised, they were highly respected – of course, for their beauty, but even more for their many talents and detached artistic air.

      As I was still wondering whether I should say yes or no, I was surprised that my head, against my will, was already nodding like a pestle hitting against a mortar.

      Now Pearl whispered into my ear, ‘Of course, there’ll also be crude businessmen and evil people like policemen, politicians, and even tong members.’

      Silence reigned in the air until we stepped inside the courtyard where the party was held.

      I let out a small cry.

      It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. I inhaled the aroma of food and the fragrance of sweet-smelling incense. Colourful lanterns of various shapes and sizes hung from plum trees, swaying and shimmering in the breeze. Glowing peaches had grown as big as a baby’s head; a rabbit watched me wherever I moved; a carp glowed orange; a horse trotted in the wind; a fiery dragon stretched its claws and soared in the air.

      Atop several tables were placed sheets of rice paper, brushes, ink stones, tea sets, wine vessels, trays of snacks, and plates of dim sum. Pearl and I floated here and there, watching some sisters paint, others rehearse poetry or sing arias of Peking and Kun operas, while yet others flirted with the guards and male servants. A few men arched their brows and smiled at us as we drifted by. Dew swayed on top of plum blossoms while in the fishpond gold carp wagged their tails.

      More and more guests arrived. The men looked important and intimidating in expensive gowns or fashionable suits. The sisters were at their best – willowy bodies clad in silk, bejewelled hair shiny, make-up immaculate, as their delicate hands fussed with water pipes, clinked glasses, smoothed pomaded hair, patted fat cheeks, even delved into bulging pockets.

      Then I felt a surge of guilt. In the bare fifteen minutes I’d been in this immortal’s hall, I’d completely forgotten about my mother. By now she was probably in the unadorned nunnery reciting sutras and beating the wooden fish to accumulate merit for me.

      ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Pearl pinched my elbow, awakening me from my thoughts. ‘We’re still early, so let’s go appreciate the lanterns before my big fish Mr. Chan arrives.’ She led me past the women servants who were arranging the food and drink under the scrutinising eyes of Fang Rong and Wu Qiang.

      Then she stopped in front of a big tree. Swaying down from the lanterns were slips of rice paper inscribed with calligraphy.

      As I was about to read the characters, Pearl’s silvery voice rose to my ear. ‘Xiang Xiang, do you know that tonight is yuanxiao, the Lantern Festival?’

      Sadness swelled inside me. Of course I knew yuanxiao – the festival to celebrate tuanyuan, family reunion. But my father was already dead and my mother a thousand miles away. Four months had gone by and I still hadn’t heard a word from her as she’d promised. With no family left, how could I celebrate a family reunion? The same time last year Mother had prepared a delicious dinner, and Baba had hung up our own lanterns in my favourite shapes of a peacock and the moon goddess Chang E. After we ate the sweet, round dumplings symbolising happy reunion, my parents took me to the old city’s Yu Garden. We strolled around the various famous scenic spots and appreciated lanterns, fireworks, acrobats, jugglers, lion dances. When we felt tired from all the walking and excitement, Baba took us to a street stall to enjoy the fragrant jasmine tea.

      After that, we went to read the riddles. Baba, well learned in literature and all the classics, could almost always solve the difficult ones, so he’d won lots of prizes. That was why I’d also become very good at solving riddles. Last year the prize he’d won was a fan with a poem:

      Last year during the yuanxiao, the lanterns shone as bright as daylight.

      When the moon climbed on the trees’ top, lovers met each other in the twilight.

      This year during the yuanxiao, while the moon and the lanterns are still here, last year’s persons are nowhere to be seen.

      All that’s left are tears wetting the sleeves of my spring garment.

      This was a very popular poem by the Sung dynasty poet Ouyang Xiu. Baba had told me that although the poem appeared sad, its message was in fact happy. ‘In the past, women and young girls were not allowed to roam outside their household by themselves. This rule was lifted during the yuanxiao festival, so married women would go out and have fun while young girls would meet their lovers, all under the pretext of appreciating СКАЧАТЬ