Read My Splendid Concubine Online
Authors: Lloyd Lofthouse
Once Martin was out of sight, Robert continued to the cons
ulate. He buried himself in work, but his problems at home refused to leave him alone.
He
had followed the Chinese banker’s advice—the man he had visited after they had gone to see
The Dream of the Red Chamber.
Since Robert was having doubts about the tactics he was using to deal with his lovers, he decided to ask Guan-jiah for advice. After all, his servant was Chinese and might have a better suggestion.
“I have given this much thought, Master,” Guan-jiah said.
“
You mean about my situation with Ayaou and Shao-mei?”
“
Yes, Master, since you told me about the child Shao-mei carries. If you remember, you agreed I could be the child’s adopted uncle. That means I have a responsibility too. If the child is to grow without damage, there must be harmony in your house, and I have noticed your nervous condition.”
“
What about the banker’s advice? Am I approaching it wrong?”
“
I disagree with his advice, Master. He is wealthy. His women come from prosperous families. He doesn’t understand your situation.”
“
And you do?”
“
I believe that I am the only one who understands, and because of your trust and kindness, I feel as if I am part of your family—an extension like a toe on one foot. I know that you carry a burden because you love your concubines. I know your people would condemn you for your actions if they discovered how you are living and that bothers you. However, you should put this into perspective. You are not doing anything original, so there is nothing to be distressed about. Our emperors have been doing this for thousands of years. More than two thousand years ago, our first emperor, Ch’ing-shi-huang-ti, slept with six concubines each night.”
“
The fact that your first emperor slept with six girls does not fix my problems with Ayaou and Shao-mei,” Robert said. “Talking about what my people would think of me is not going to do it either.”
“
Master,” Guan-jiah said, “the problem has nothing to do with your girls. It has to do with the extreme beliefs in the afterlife by Christians. We Chinese, on the other hand, worship common sense and dislike all unproven theories and all conduct that exceeds accepted moral behavior.”
Robert
’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t expected this opinion from his servant. He forced his mouth to close and erased the shock from his face. “Guan-jiah,” he said, “where do you find all the time to dwell on things like this?”
His
servant started walking across the consulate kitchen. “Would you like a cup of tea, Master? It is best to discuss common sense over a cup of tea.” He went to the consulate stove, picked up the teapot, and poured two cups of tea. He carried them to the table. He set one lukewarm cup in front of Robert.
“
Emperor T’ang—over a thousand years ago—said he always listened to two contradictory extremes of counsel over the same issue before deciding,” Guan-jiah said, “and he usually took about half the advice from each side to find a middle ground. Since you have already listened to the banker, you should consider me the other extreme. That is why we Chinese call our country the
Middle Kingdom.
Like Emperor T’ang, we seek the middle ground to keep a balance.” He took a sip and made a face. “No disrespect, Master, but Mrs. Winchester cannot brew tea.” He put the cup down as if it had been poisoned.
Robert sipped and discovered
Guan-jiah was right. This tea was bitterly strong. Mrs. Winchester must have used twice as many tealeaves and brewed it too long.
“
If you are seeking advice, Master, I counsel that you find the middle ground, which means you cannot lean too far toward your Christian morals, and you cannot act like Emperor Ch’ing-shi-huang-ti and sleep with your concubines at the same time.”
“
How do I do that? How do I balance Confucianism with Christianity?”
“
Think of it this way, Master. Christians live to be accepted into their heaven after death. Everything they do is aimed toward that goal. However, Confucianism is a religion of common sense based on our earthly senses and desires. If you consider man’s nature, no man should marry but most men do, so Confucianism advises marriage. It would be nice if all men were equal, but they are not. There are emperors, princes, and generals, and there are workers, followers, and warriors. It is because of this that Confucianism teaches authority and obedience. It is the foundation for
piety
. It is why the father has so much authority. Men and women should not be different, but they are. Confucianism teaches that the sexes are different, and we live in a man’s world.”
“
My religion believes that women are equal to men,” Robert said.
“
Does that mean you can bear children, Master?”
“
You should have been a teacher, Guan-jiah, instead of a servant. How does this solve my problems? You’re talking about common sense, and I am dealing with two girls fighting over me. Jealousy does not react to common sense.”
“
Ah yes, sex.” Guan-jiah’s eyes glowed with an energy Robert hadn’t seen before. The servant went to the stove, poured out the tea and started a new pot. “We cannot drink this, Master. I will brew a fresh pot. I have some chrysanthemum tea more suited to conversation.”
Once they had two fr
esh cups of tea, the conversation continued, but Guan-jiah did the talking. “Buddhism and, from what I’ve learned, Christianity,” he said, “say sex leads to sin. Confucius, on the other hand, says sex is a perfectly normal function, because it is connected with the continuation of the family and the human species.”
Robert l
ifted the lid on his cup and steam billowed out. It smelled marvelous. It was aromatic, sweet, and spicy at the same time. He saw nutmeg seeds floating with the chrysanthemum flowers and shavings from vanilla beans. There were other things he couldn’t identify. Maybe that was why Guan-jiah felt this tea was more suitable to a conversation.
“Your solution, Master, is to get both of your concubines pregnant. When Ayaou is also pregnant, she will have no reason to be jealous of Shao-mei. As the adopted uncle, I am willing to go to the herbalist and purchase herbs you will put in Shao-mei’s tea and soup, so the baby will be born a girl. Girls are worthless, so this will solve that problem. Then I will go to the herbalist to buy what will help Ayaou get pregnant and have a boy child.”
At home, Robert caught himself enjoying the look of concentration on Shao-mei’s face as she wrote a new Chinese poem. When she wrote every symbol correct, he rewarded her with ticklish kisses on her neck behind an ear. The sound of her laughter brought joy to his soul. He also loved to watch Ayaou wash her hair and comb it for what felt like hours. When that was happening, he’d catch a look in Shao-mei’s eyes. He knew that she was studying him to see what pleased him.
Sure enough,
the next day he’d find her doing the same as Ayaou had done—washing her hair and taking forever to comb it out while casting sly glances at him. He made an effort not to disappoint her and watched.
One night Ayaou stopped in the middle of their lovemaking.
“Before we finish satisfying your sun instrument, I want you to make a promise.”
“
What is it?” he said.
“
I want you to promise to sleep with Shao-mei once a week. I want to punish her for being too possessive of you.”
“
What!” he said. This was absurd. It was beyond absurd. “How can you ask me this? I want this to be a house of happiness. That cannot happen if I make such a promise. Shao-mei will be unhappy. I’m not going to stop my current practice of sleeping with you one night and Shao-mei the next.” He didn’t tell her that when he was with Shao-mei nothing happened beyond cuddling. Robert still hadn’t had intercourse with Shao-mei. He was determined not to until the child was born.
“
Robert, what other choice have you? If you do not punish Shao-mei, she is going to become more possessive. I see how she looks at you. You are blind.”
“
This house is like a bucket of milk turning sour. If this is the price to have intercourse with you, we will not make love again.” He rolled away from her and pretended to go to sleep.
Ayaou had been knocked into a shocked silence, and the a
tmosphere in the room turned frigid. Robert had never turned away from her before—not like this. A moment passed. Then she said, “I am sorry, Robert. Please do not punish me like this. I will not be able to sleep unless your hands come to touch me, and your sun instrument shines with pleasure. I will not make this kind of demand again.”
Robert suppressed his bitter and victorious smile. He rolled over and reached for her. He had taken Guan-jiah
’s advice and was spiking their tea and soup with herbs designed to ensure Shao-mei of a girl child and to get Ayaou pregnant with a male child. He hoped it worked.
“I can’t wait for your advice to work, Guan-jiah. After Ayaou gets pregnant, we have to wait nine months until she delivers. I’m desperate. There is no way to know how long it will take before she conceives.”
“
Master,” he said, “if you are in a hurry to create harmony in your house, may I suggest that you set up rules as Chinese masters do?”
“
And what would those be?” Robert asked, wary of the answer.
“
I will write them and give them to you later in the day,” he said. “Now is not the time to talk.” He cast a glance toward the door that led to the next room where Mrs. Winchester was. “You are getting behind in your paperwork. I know how much that bothers you.” Guan-jiah left.
That ev
ening, after Robert finished work, Guan-jiah handed him a leather whip and the sheet of suggested rules. Most of the rules made sense like the one about who spoke the first harsh words that started a fight received the punishment. The punishment was to use the whip and tear the flesh off their lovely backs until they become a mass of scars and scabs. Robert couldn’t bear the thought of beating them.
“
Why the whip?” he asked. “I can’t use that.”
“
There’s no other way to make a horse behave, Master. My father has a whip. All the married men I know have whips or sticks to beat their women, but they seldom use them. All it usually takes is once. If that does not work, you can always hang one with a silk rope. That is what the Emperor does in the Forbidden City to a concubine that does not behave. I heard that one concubine had her arms and legs removed. She was the most beautiful woman in China. It was because of her beauty that she thought it gave her power over the Emperor. They say he cried when she was punished. Her torso was put into a large vase, so her head protruded from the top. The other concubines are made to walk through that room where the limbless concubine is kept alive in that vase as an example.
“
Master, if you do not use the whip when you ride your concubines, it will be like riding a horse that goes where it wants instead of where you want it to go. After all, a woman’s role is to be ridden, but the outcome is better than just being transported from one place to another.”
“
Outcome?” Robert replied, shocked at Guan-jiah’s explicit images.
His servant looked at him oddly.
“Master, the outcome is sons, many sons to carry on the family name. A horse cannot give you that—your concubines or wives can. And if you have girl children, you can arrange marriages with families who will improve your life.” He smiled proudly. “Why do you think I suggested the herbs?”
Robert was confused. He wasn
’t sure when Guan-jiah was talking about women and when he was talking about horses. They seemed to be the same thing to his servant.
When Robert arrived home that evening, he hid the sheet of rules and the whip under the bed he shared with Ayaou. No one cleaned under the beds. The whip and list of rules sunk into a thick layer of dust.
That night he slept with Ayaou. While they were making love, he thought of that whip under the bed and imagined using it on her while he rode her. He s
aw himself strapping a saddle to her lovely back and making her carry him to work.
When they finished making love, Robert said,
“I’m not taking sides between you and Shao-mei. I want to make that clear, Ayaou. I’m not going to allow jealousy to destroy what we have.”
Instead of cuddling
and throwing her legs on top of his—which was her habit after they had intercourse—she snorted with a derisive sound and rolled over with her back toward him.
Her desirable back, the one he loved looking at, was sudde
nly not so lovely. Maybe Guan-jiah was right, and a few well-placed scars would solve this problem. He imagined her back with scabs and red scars crisscrossing it. It wouldn’t look so desirable and lovely anymore once it was blemished. She might be like a horse to a Chinese man, but she wasn’t to Robert. He decided to leave the whip where it was. There was enough anger in the house already.