Bride of the Moso Prince (15 page)

BOOK: Bride of the Moso Prince
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“When did she pass away?”

             
“Over ten years ago.
S
he’d never complained
about hardship in her later life,
and never been defeated. She worked like a peasant after coming out of the jail. She paved roads and painted houses to make a living.
She
learned how to do woodwork in the jail and became the first and only carpenter in the village. Actually she was my teacher. When I was ten I carved a picture on a table and she was so impressed that she told me that I would become the best wood carving artist one day. When she passed away I was an apprentice in a wood carving factory in Dahli and I was carving a headboard for her. She didn’t even get to see it.”

             
Nobul’s voice trailed off and his eyes looked sad.

             
Sharon reached out and held his hand, “It’s ok. I’m sure she saw it from heaven.”

             
“I hope so.” Nobul nodded. “Anyway, the museum will make her proud of me.”

             
He got up, held her hand and gently pulled
her into the house.

 

             
Sharon looked at the interior of the house. The floor was covered with wood dusts. Logs and planks lay on the floor. There were pieces of work in progress too. “Are you working on the project alone?”

             
“Not really. My brother helps. In fact, Urcher did most of
the repairs. My cousin who is a
lama, would paint all the murals. And we have the help from other villagers too.”

             
“How long have you been working on it?”

             
“Almost a year. It would take a couple more months. The only place that’s completed is the bedroom…since I have to sleep here. What to see it?”

“Sure.”

 

The bedroom was located on the second floor of the east wing. It was spacious and sumptuous. It was a combination of traditional Han style and Moso. A carved wood screen separated the bedroom to outer and inner chambers. The outer chamber was masculine. The floor was decorated with rugs from Tibet. A hearth sat against the west wall. Yak skin cushioned the couches. On the wall hung leopard skins and horns of Yaks. The inner chamber, on the other hand, was feminine and Han. The curtains on the windows were made of white satin, the bed was surrounded with a canopy of purple silk. A mahogany vanity table stood in the center.

             
Sharon lifted the canopy and the first thing she noticed was the carved bed panel. It was a rooster
with upturned head and opened beaks.


A crowing rooster! Is this what you made for your grandmother?

Sharon asked.

“Yes.” Nobul, who was lifting the window curtains came next to her. “She was born in the year of the Rooster. That explains her industrialism and her charisma.”

Sharon nodded. She didn’t know much about Chinese horoscopes, but somehow what he said made sense.

Inside
the canopy
was a space filled with silk, from pillow cases to the sheets. The top of the canopy was embroidered with beautiful patterns. He slept here? All alone in such luxurious setting? She doubted it but was too shy to ask. Perhaps he would take tourists here once in awhile. Perhaps Namu would stay here sometimes. She let the canopy down abruptly.

             
There was a black and white picture of the Empress and the chief on the wall. She was wearing a Moso costume: the jacket, the long pleated skirt, and the sash. Her headdress was adorned with silver nuggets and hanging from the sash were huge silver buckles. Very much like the Peking dog at her foot, she looked docile next to the massive, dominant body of the chief, and it was hard to imagine that rebellious girl
who ran away from home, or the woman who would pave roads and plough fields like a peasant
.

Nobul said to her, “It was a great picture. Taken by an American explorer, named Joseph Rock
…” then he looked at the picture and looked at her again, “
You look like the Empress, don’t you think?”

             
“Me?” Sharon looked at the faded picture. She could indeed see outline of her own facial feature in the Empress, especially their almond shape eyes and their slightly upturned chins. “Maybe, but then, you could say that to many Han women from Sichuan province.”

             
“I’ll have to disagree. I’ve seen numerous Han women. You’re the only one that I said that to.’

             
“Well, if you insist.” Sharon smiled, “maybe I am related to the Empress. I might be the heir of Captain Yao’s brother or something like that.”

 

             
The bedroom had a stunning view of the lake. Gemu mountain and its reflection were equally visible, making the lake an actual mirror of the Goddess. The smaller islands on the lake were like peaceful sails.

             
“Oh, this is paradise.” Sharon was mesmerized from gazing at the view.

             
A moment later she turned reluctantly and followed Nobul to the balcony. To her delight, the balcony had a charming view of the pine forests.

             
“This is great.” Sharon leant against the railing of the balcony and looked around her. It was a big island, enough for another small village. What a luxury it was to have the whole island for yourself.

             
“See the steam over there?” Nobul pointed to a forest of pines a few meters away, where a streak of steam was rising through the branches of a tree.

             
“Yes, what is it?”

             
“It’s a hot spring.”

             
“A hot spring?”

             
“Yes, want to see it?”

             
“Sure!”

             
In the middle of a pine forest and surrounded by rocks, the hot spring had the size of a gym spa. The bubbling water was tantalizing.

             
“Want a soak?” Nobul asked her, smiling.

             
“Um…” Sharon really wanted to say yes but it was the first time she visited here, and she didn’t bring
a
towel or anything.
Besides, what if he wanted to soak with her? She blushed and said, “No thanks.”

             
“Are you sure?” He seemed to have guessed her worries. “I could wait for you in the house. I have some work to do anyway.”

             
His hospitality tempted her again. She glanced at the clear water under the misty steam, then looked at his eager face. Struggle briefly between modesty and curiosity, then shook her head, “Next time. I’m not prepared for it.”

             
“Next time? So you’re planning to come again?” His laughing eyes reminded her how unwilling she had been before the trip.

             
Sharon was embarrassed, but she said nonetheless, “Yes, I would like to come back.
But you’d better notify me in advance next time after you set a time. Don’t just show up all of a sudden.”

             
Nobul shook his head.
“Well, is this a typical manner of an American woman?
I waited for you for hours in order to give you a free boat ride. I haven’t gotten a
thank you
, and you are still complaining!”

             
His pretended desperation made her laugh. “You asked for it!”

             
As she was laughing, he suddenly said with a serious look, “But you know why I ask for it?”

             
Sharon stopped laughing, and asked, “No. Why?”

             
He leant towards her, and whispered to her ear, “I want to  be your slave.”

             
Sharon was instantly stirred by his low masculine voice. Her heart went pounding for a moment and she was lost for words. He looked so serious that she wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not.

             
While she was still feeling confused Nobul laughed, “I’m just teasing!”

             
“You jerk!” Sharon tried to hit him, but he ran away before her hand reached him.

             

             
They went back downstairs to the living room, which would become the main exhibition room, was almost ready for interior set up.

             
“I’ve gotten the display shelves ready.  In fact, maybe you can help me with the interior design. You’re a designer, aren’t you?”

             
“A web designer,” she shook her head, although she was interested. “Very different.”

             
“Every designing job involves some common talents.” He said sincerely, “for example, creativity and esthetics.”

             
“I agree, but…”

             
“Don’t refuse me yet, give it a thought.” He held her hand and squeezed it lightly.

             
Shar
on looked at him wide-eyed. Her
cheeks flushed with excitement. Both the suggestion of interior design and his touch were overwhelming. She pulled her hand away from his and asked as calmly as she could, “do you have any plans at this point?”

             
“Not really. I’ve been to many museums in the province. My favorite is the Nakhi Cultural Museum in Lijiang. But they are all too… how should I put it? Too formal, too museum like. I think ours should be cozier and as close to an actual Moso house as possible…”

             
“That’s not a bad idea, being authentic and all,” she said, “but…”

             
He looked at her as she hesitated. “Go on.”

             
“But people might want to see more in a museum, especially if they’ve seen Moso houses already.”

             
“Any suggestions?” He looked at her expectantly.

             
“Not off the top of my head,” she thought about the museums that she had been to, and said slowly, “Perhaps a room that displays Moso costumes, a wall of pictures that show Moso dances, Mosuo rituals and ceremonies, and descriptions of the history of Moso…”

             
“These are great ideas,” he said with flickers in his eyes, “would you also like to be my exhibition design consultant?”

             
Sharon laughed, “Are you serious?”

             
“Yes, serious. I believe you’ll do a good job.”

             
Sharon hesitated. The temptation was great. To design a museum? That was something that she wouldn’t dream about.

             
“Yes or no?” Nobul asked again.

             
“Um, I have to think about it. I didn’t plan to stay long, you see.” She looked down at the floor, afraid of his eyes.

             
“Perhaps you want to change your mind now?”

             
His voice was husky and she looked up at him slowly but only jerked away again when she met her eyes. They were seething with desire.

             
He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her close to him. The gestured caused havoc in her gut and she bowed her head with confusion. He
held her chin between his thumb
and index finger and lifted it.

             
“Look at me,” he murmured.

             
She obeyed, reluctantly, meeting those disturbing eyes bravely this time, ignoring her throbbing heart. “What do you want?” Her voice was shaky.

             
His eyes spoke for him. They fell on her face, caressing her before they fixed on her lips. She anticipated with hope and reluctance. She felt the stifling air in the slow but determined movement. Centuries passed before his lips touched hers. Until then, she realized how much she had missed those lips last night and this morning. They were surprisingly soft and playful. While he was still gently sucking on her lips Sharon ran her tongue along them.

             
She could hear his heart doing boxing in his chest.

             
His cell phone rang. His hands relaxed. “Damn,” he cursed softly, one arm still holding her, he reached the phone.

             
“Hello? I see. Ok. I’ll be there.”

             
It was Urcher, Nobul explained, telling him that there would be a group of tourists arriving in the afternoon. Urcher was going to the town and neighboring village to purchase food for dinner, including a goat for barbeque as requested by the tourists. They’d better get back before long. He needed to be present.

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