A Concubine for the Family: A Family Saga in China (5 page)

G
OLDEN BELL’S SHOUT “You don’t understand anything!” rang in Purple Jade’s ears. When did her daughter learn to shout at her mother? Did Miss Tyler encourage her daughter to “have fun” and be audacious? When had she become so defiant? She rubbed her temple and pushed all thoughts of recrimination away. It was time to meet this Miss Spicy-Too-Hot and learn some of the foreign magic. Yes, she would invite Miss Tyler to the birthday party.

Purple Jade refreshed her ink. More than one hundred guests would be arriving. She must compile a list of groceries to start the preparations:

“That will keep the kitchen busy for a few days,” she said to herself. Her voice came out low, with unexpected cracks in it. Her throat and skin often felt dry. Did that point to the end of her menstrual years?
That would be a merciful relief
, she thought.

“Orchid.” No reply. She cleared her throat. She remembered the silkworm eggs. She sighed and leaned back to raise one foot and then the other onto the opposite knee, rubbing them. “Orchid gives me arms and legs. I’m useless without her. Curse my feet,” she mumbled. She did not insist on bound feet for her children. Yet, despite her example of virtuous living, Golden Bell had become rude and brazen.

Purple Jade thought of a Po Chu-i poem she had read the night before:

“I could write a poem for my lord’s birthday,” she said to herself. She knew the gift her husband really needed was an heir. But she was almost forty. The only verse that came to mind brought tears into her eyes.

The ink felt dry, and in any case, she was not in the mood for writing. She washed her brush, covered her inkstone. Yes, her daughter was right. It would be easier to write with a fountain pen. Still, within the settled comforts of her household, she felt challenged by her daughter’s fascination with this intrusive foreign world. She took out her book of poems.

While Purple Jade fingered the pages, her mind wandered. Golden Bell had once shown her a color photograph from one of Miss Tyler’s magazines. It was the scene of a snow-capped, bell-shaped mountain reflected in a shimmering aqua-blue lake. The limpid water rendered the stones and branches on the bottom visible, and the image of the mountain floated on the surface ripples. The light blue sky with streaks of pinkish orange clouds added magic to the placid scene. She felt the urge to morph into a bird and fly onto the stately pine tree that stood on one side of the craggy red mountain. An unfamiliar anxiety flooded her mind. She had always thought of the wilderness as something unruly and forbidding — somehow it related to her free-floating fear of war. This picture of serene beauty, however, had set her heart fluttering with a strange vitality. She had been inordinately proud of West Lake in her backyard, but the water was dark and pleasure boats frequented the lake. Now something inside her was stirring. A poem by her favorite poet, Tu Fu, about random pleasure crossed her mind:

While growing up, Purple Jade’s bound feet had been her shackles. Yet, even with these physical limitations, she had found vicarious pleasures in the rambunctious life of her half-brother, Chou Glorious Dragon. She watched him run, climb, and play shuttlecock, but as a girl it was her special privilege to fine-tune the simple acts of daily living.

She had acquired her seemingly casual grace with careful discipline. Like the refined ladies of old, she had learned to discern whether the water in a cup of tea came from mountain snow or from spring water. The clarity of pale green tea symbolized purity; its aroma inspired lofty thoughts; the subtle taste, the gentle fragrance, instilled delicate sensibility. Despite her physical confinement, she had learned to be content.

Then she remembered her betrothal to Huang Righteous Virtue, the scion of a large landowning family and an ardent follower of Dr. Sun Yat-sen. Her parents told her that like many college students of his generation, he was disillusioned with the corrupt Manchu monarchy. After graduation, he continued his clandestine activities and helped to establish the Republican government. When they finally married, Righteous Virtue was thirty-three years old. She was twenty-two — old for a marriageable girl of her time. She was in awe of his patriotism.

Now Righteous Virtue had come into his full inheritance. He had built schools and a hospital, and his generosity had become legendary. People admired his modern education, and he was elected to the local legislative council with support from the gentry. Purple Jade had always been impressed by his quiet confidence and thought of him as the ideal Chinese gentleman — erudite, tolerant of human frailties, and correct in his behavior to ancestors, friends, and family.

Purple Jade’s thoughts drifted to her present concerns again, and she groaned. In spite of her close supervision of her family and part of the Chou family silk business, she found it difficult to concentrate when the country was in turmoil. She still felt outraged that the Westerners had carved up prime real estate in the major cities into concessions where foreigners could enjoy extraterritorial rights and privileges. Japan had occupied Manchuria for some time now, but China remained weak because the Chinese Communists, Nationalists, Fascists, Socialists and other ideologues never ceased to squabble for control. Her husband had told her something important was happening in Xian. The Japanese had killed Marshal Zhang Hsueh-liang’s father in Manchuria. Now, the young marshal wanted revenge to fulfill his filial duty. He kidnapped Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek in Xian and forced him to unite with the Communists to fight Japan. Purple Jade’s heart warmed at the thought of civilized Confucian gentlemen, Marshal Zhang, the generalissimo, Chou En-lai, about to unite and set an example of virtuous living. They would become national heroes. Would that mean war with Japan and chaos for the country? She wiped the thought from her mind. Like everyone else, she hoped for peace but also wanted China to remain Chinese. The thoughts brought on the usual fog of apprehension. It seemed to infuse the air she was breathing.

Silver Bell entered with Peony. She carried a copy of the
Three Character Book
. “
M-ma
, Father said everything will be all right.”

“Where is Orchid?”

No one answered.

“Well, Peony, go fetch us some tea. Silver Bell, we’ll start our lesson.”

“Oh
M-ma
, there is so much going on! Can we skip a day?”

“No, Silver Bell. Now repeat after me.”

Purple Jade recited aloud:

“Origin of man

Is always kind.”

Her daughter repeated but her eyes roamed the room.

Soon, Peony returned with a tea service on a tray. Orchid followed with lowered eyes. Peony was serving tea when suddenly Orchid tipped the basin of water on the night table.

“What’s wrong Orchid?” Purple Jade faced her. “That is not like you.”

“
Tai-tai
, I am sorry . . . I went out the back door and saw the corpse,” Orchid blurted out. “They said the girl was from the mission school.”

“Oh no! Who is she?” Purple Jade looked straight into Orchid’s frightened eyes. She sounded more firm and brave than she felt.

“No one knows yet.”

“Have you heard any opposition to the students of . . . of the missionary school?” Purple Jade paused when she remembered her own opposition.

“Oh, there is the usual wasting of mouth water!” Orchid answered.

“I heard the girls are taught not to bring the rice bowl to their mouths,” Peony volunteered.

“They are also forbidden to slurp their soup!” Orchid mopped up the spilled water. “They learn silly things in that school, but some girls put on airs!”

“The Western customs are strange, but these are not provocations.” Purple Jade frowned. “There must be some personal reason.”

“The lord sent a message into town. Some family will come to claim the body soon.” Orchid gave the floor a vigorous scrub. When she stood up, she felt better.

“Orchid, take this grocery list to the accountant.” Purple Jade thrust out the paper. Her firm order was given in a voice just loud enough to summon the authority of her class and breeding; she wanted no more speculation about the body. “Don’t go out the back door again. All the freedom and fancy learning did not bring this girl any peace!” She glared at her daughter.

“Golden Bell said it is fun to learn how the electric light works!”

“Hai,” her mother said with a sigh. “Western learning favors the practical, but it doesn’t build character. It is your father’s fault. He is too fascinated by Western toys.”

Purple Jade stopped sipping her tea, remembering all the novelties her husband had brought into the house. Seven years earlier, Righteous Virtue had installed electric lights; two years later, he added “self-coming water” to the schoolroom and the kitchen; last year, he bought a new “gas car.” “That Shanghai chauffeur he hired,” Purple Jade shook her head. “He’s causing such an uproar among the servants!”

She put down her teacup. The Dragon Well tea did not taste right. She dabbed her mouth with her handkerchief. It tasted as if it had been brewed with river water taken from the muddy shore. Water from the center of the river was clearer, although nothing could equal the clean, crisp taste of water from Tiger Run Spring. The Dragon Well tea of her household was always brewed from Tiger Run Spring water. The servants were delinquent. She must look into this.

“Peony said the chauffeur is really interesting. Imagine, he said he isn’t afraid of any foreign devil.” Silver Bell brought her mother back from her private thoughts.

“Are you afraid of the foreign devils, Silver Bell?” Her mother smiled. A few laugh lines appeared at the corners of her eyes, but her cheeks were still gleaming and taut.

“No. Sometimes I go by the schoolroom to watch Miss Tyler. She doesn’t scare me. But the chauffeur says that in Shanghai men and women openly hug and kiss each other! The barbarians know no shame.”

“That is exactly how I feel, my little heart-and-liver.” She took her daughter’s hand. “And that is one reason you are not going to the schoolroom.”

“Will
jei-jei
also hug and kiss when she goes to Shanghai?”

“Golden Bell is not going to Shanghai.” Her mother dropped the hand. “Now, are you ready to recite your lesson?”

“No
M-ma
, it’s too hard to memorize things I don’t understand!”

“It is good discipline to memorize. You’ll understand when you’re older.” Her mother opened the book. “These passages are relevant to what we were talking about. The first couplet says man is always born good and kind.

“The second couplet says while nature will stay true, bad habits will corrupt man and bring him far from his original goodness.

“So the third couplet concludes that if a child is not properly taught, his good nature will change.

Now, do you think you can memorize these few couplets?”

“I’ll try. But I wish I could learn about the electric lights instead.”

“Hai, what’s a mother to do?” she moaned. In her mind, she knew perfectly well how her daughters felt — as if a fluttering bird from that foreign picture had flown inside them.

Silver Bell smiled. “
M-ma
, have you thought of a birthday present for Father?”

“I am embroidering this vest for him.” She shifted in her seat. “Except for our chess games, he isn’t interested in anything I do anymore.” Her eyes narrowed as she reached for her embroidery. She did not mean to confide her innermost fears to her young daughter.

“Father is a book-fragrant gentleman. You always said he never indulges in sleeping with the willows and lying with the flowers.” Silver Bell tilted her head to peer into her mother’s face.

“Yes, he is too noble.” Purple Jade shuddered at the thought of an unfaithful husband. “He deserves a better wife. All the wind-and-water men chose the best date and time for our marriage, yet we have no sons.”

“Would Father take a concubine?”

Purple Jade paused. Giving her husband a concubine — this would be the traditional way to ensure an heir. The thought sent her heart thumping. Somehow, her silk thread became tangled. She laid down her embroidery and looked for her scissors. “No, my little heart-and-liver, your father is too Westernized. If you do not go near the schoolroom but study your classics instead, I will find you a husband someday who is willing to take our name. Then no male relative would dare claim to be a master of this house.”

“But Father says I must go to the school room, after I turn ten next winter.”

Purple Jade stared into the empty space ahead. Fingering the mangled threads, she asked: “If you should become Westernized, who will marry you and serve as our heir?” Silver Bell was not listening. “
M-ma
, I’ll try to memorize the couplets!” She touched her mother’s back and ran off.