The Ghost Bride (32 page)

Chapter
38

I
was
sliding, falling. Desperately, I clung with my fingers to halt my descent but
the loose earth broke away beneath my hands. Small stones rattled and cut my
face. My hands were bloodied and raw as I snatched at the sides, gasping with
relief as I found a foothold. Above me, Yan Hong shuddered to a halt as well.
Like two geckos, we pressed ourselves against the steep slope while below, the
dark shaft of the well gaped like a wound. Looking up, I saw Madam Lim’s white
face as she peered over.

“You stupid girls!” she said. “If it hadn’t been
for you, my son would still be here. Both of you caused him so much grief.”

A stone hit me, and then another one. I heard Yan
Hong give a sharp cry.

“Mother!” she said. “Please!”

“Don’t you dare call me Mother! Your real mother
was a suicide. I’ll tell everyone you did the same thing and dragged Li Lan
over. And now, I’m going to do what I should have done a long time ago.” Her
face vanished, and though we screamed and shouted, it did not reappear.

F
rom
the echo of falling stones, the well wasn’t very deep. Just enough to break our
necks if we fell. Though I fumbled blindly with my feet, I dared not climb
farther down. I closed my eyes in sheer terror. Above me, I could hear Yan Hong
sobbing.

“Can you climb up?” I called.

“I can’t. I’m afraid of heights.”

Peering up, I saw that we weren’t that far from the
edge, although the slope of the funnel was perilously steep. If she could climb
a few feet she might make it. “Feel with your hands!” I said. “Try to pull
yourself up. I’ll help you fit your feet.” I found a rocky foothold and
supporting her ankle, guided her to it. In this manner, trembling and halting
frequently, Yan Hong managed to climb higher. Grimly, I pulled myself up after
her. My heart was racing, my palms slick with sweat and blood. If I looked down
into the darkness, I was lost.

When she was almost at the top, Yan Hong began to
cry again. “I can’t! I just can’t! The stone comes out here.”

I saw that she was right. A large rock, displaced
by the landslide, bulged outward above her. It would be very difficult for her
to make the final ascent. Ignoring the pain in my arms, I forced myself a little
higher until I found a narrow shelf to wedge my feet on.

“Step on my shoulders,” I called.

Sobbing, Yan Hong put one hand out and grasped the
rock. I placed her foot on my shoulder and braced myself as she put her weight
on me. As she scrabbled for another handhold, I extended my arm. “Put your other
foot on my palm!” The effort of supporting her made me gasp. “Hurry!”

Yan Hong was almost over the bulge when she
slipped. Her feet flailed wildly as she grabbed for a foothold. With all my
strength, I shoved her up. She made it over, but I lost my balance and slid
helplessly down, so terrified that I couldn’t even scream. I was going to die
now, my neck broken at the bottom. Above me, I heard Yan Hong’s despairing
shriek. “Li Lan!”

My slithering fall was broken by a ledge to which I
clung. It was dressed stone, the remains of the well shaft that had broken off
in the landslide. My feet kicked desperately in the air, then I lost my grip and
dropped into the darkness. I landed on soft dampness, the bottom of the well.
When I looked up, I saw Yan Hong’s frightened face far above me.

“I’m all right!” I shouted at her. “Go and stop
Madam Lim! I can wait!”

Yan Hong nodded frantically, then disappeared.

F
or
some minutes after she had gone, I could only think of how long it had taken me
to walk from the main house through the extensive grounds. Had it taken a
quarter of an hour, or even more? Either way, I would have to wait for a while.
And what if Madam Lim had planned something else for Tian Bai? Yan Hong had said
he would be back at any moment, though she might simply abandon me. After all,
if she had really poisoned Lim Tian Ching, she had every reason to silence me as
well. Perhaps it had been foolish to help her, but there was no other option. As
my eyes became accustomed to the dimness, I explored the bottom of the well. Mud
had cushioned my fall and spared me serious injury, but the walls of dressed
stone rose sharply on all sides. They were damp and slippery with moss, and try
as I might, I could not scale them.

A
s I
squelched around, ankle deep in mud, I stepped on something hard and long, about
the length of a human thighbone. A dreadful suspicion made me freeze, thinking
of the woman Yan Hong said had committed suicide. But those were only children’s
stories, I told myself, not wanting to think that if Yan Hong abandoned me, I
would become the hungry ghost in this well. Reaching down, I was relieved to
fish out the broken handle of a broom. There was other debris as well: an old ax
head, the rusted-out bottom of a pot. But nothing that would help me climb out.
I stared up, seeing that the sky had turned an ominous gray as another storm
threatened to sweep in off the coast. The air smelled wet and cold.

A heavy spatter of raindrops hit me. I wished for
my light spirit body, which could easily have scaled the walls. I wished for the
company of my sweet horse. But most of all, I wished for Er Lang. If I had still
had the scale, I could have called for him. But there was a vast gulf between
his position and mine; I had no right to expect anything further. Gritting my
teeth, I told myself that I wouldn’t call him even if I could. I was too proud
to do so; I would rescue myself.

Again and again, I tried to scale my prison.
Several times, I gained a few agonizing feet only to lose my grip on the slick
dressed stone. My nails were broken and bleeding, my breath coming in gasps. As
I leaned against the wall, I thought bitterly of how weak this physical body
was. Death was always near and despite my brief break from its clutches, it
would soon claim me again. I had escaped once, from the Plains of the Dead, but
I had not been alone—and perhaps in the end, it was hubris for me to claim I
needed no one.

“Er Lang!” I shouted. “Er Lang! Where are you?”

My arms ached as I leaned against the shaft; my
legs trembled with weakness. The light was fading. Tears ran down my face,
mingling with the downpour that had started in earnest. Exhausted, I felt my
strength seep away with the cold rain that stripped the warmth from my body.
Though I longed to sit down, I shrank from the mud and its unknown contents. I
shouted for help intermittently, but the estate grounds were so extensive that I
despaired of anyone hearing me, especially in this deluge. It was laughable,
even hysterical, that I should die now after having gone through so much effort
to reclaim my body. Old Wong was right, I was a meddlesome fool who was throwing
away my chance at happiness, my chance to marry Tian Bai and be a wife and
mother. How long had it been now? Hours, or merely minutes? My teeth chattered;
my thoughts became increasingly disjointed. I prayed to Zheng He, the admiral
who had sailed these waters almost five hundred years ago, and to my mother,
wherever she was in the Plains of the Dead. Gabbled prayers, with promises to be
good, to never do anything like this again if only Er Lang would come. Just one
more time.

“Er Lang!” I cried again. My voice had grown
hoarse. “Er Lang, you fool! You promise breaker!”

“Is this your way of asking for help?” And then he
was there, looking down at me. The rain streamed off his bamboo hat in a sheet
of silver needles. “What on earth are you doing?”

The relief of seeing him made my knees buckle. I
wondered briefly whether he was a mirage drawn from the shimmering curtain of
rain, but the exasperation in his voice was too convincing. Incoherently, I
began to explain my predicament, but he shook his head. “Tell me later.”

To my horror, he jumped down the well shaft.

“What have you done?” I said. “Why didn’t you get a
rope?” Overwrought, I almost burst into tears.
“You . . . you insane creature! How will we ever get out
again?”

Er Lang examined his shoes in dismay. “You should
have told me there was mud down here.”

“Is that all you can say?” But I was glad, so glad
to see him that I hugged him tightly. Despite his concern about his shoes, he
didn’t seem to mind as I pressed my grimy face against his shoulder.

“Last time it was a cemetery, and now the bottom of
a well,” he remarked. “What were you doing anyway?”

As I explained, his tone became icy. “So, you saved
a murderer and let yourself be abandoned. Do you have some sort of death
wish?”

“Why are you angry?” Pushing back his hat, I
searched his face. It was a mistake, for faced with his unnerving good looks, I
could only drop my eyes.

“You might have broken your neck. Why can’t you
leave these things to the proper authorities?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Incredibly, we were
arguing again. “And where were you all this time? You could have sent me a
message!”

“How was I supposed to do that when you never left
the house alone?”

“But you could have come at any time. I was waiting
for you!”

Er Lang was incensed. “Is this the thanks I
get?”

If I had thought it through, I would never have
done it. But I grasped the collar of his robe and pulled his face to mine.
“Thank you,” I said, and kissed him.

I meant to break away at once, but he caught me,
his hand behind my head.

“Are you going to complain about this?” he
demanded.

Wordlessly, I shook my head. My face reddened,
remembering my awkward remarks about tongues last time. He must have recalled
them as well, for he gave me an inscrutable look.

“Open your mouth, then.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to put my tongue in.”

That he could joke at a time like this was really
unbelievable. Despite my outrage, however, I flung myself into his arms. Half
laughing, half furious, I pressed my mouth fiercely against his. He pinned me
against the well shaft. The stone chilled my back through my wet clothes, but my
skin burned where he held my wrists. Gasping, I could feel the heat of him as
his tongue slipped inside. My pulse raced; my body trembled uncontrollably.
There was only the hard pressure of his mouth, the slick thrust of his tongue. I
wanted to cry, but no tears came. A river was melting in me, my core dissolving
like wax in his arms. My ears hummed, I could only hear the rasping of our
breaths, the hammering of my heart. A stifled moan escaped my lips. He gave a
long sigh and broke away.

“Aren’t you getting married next month?”

My face was red, my hands shaking. “I’m sorry. I
shouldn’t have done that.”

“Congratulations, then. You must be very
happy.”

I
scarcely knew where to turn in that confined space. Er Lang wouldn’t look at me
either. Instead, he glanced up at the narrow slice of sky, heavy with rain
clouds.

“We should get out of here.” His tone was sober. I
had no words left.

With little effort, he slung me over his shoulder
and began to climb. I didn’t know how he found foot- and handholds in the
slippery shaft, but he ascended with ease. His body was light and strong, far
stronger than any normal man, as I had long suspected. Dizzy, I clung to him,
feeling like a sack of rice. If I opened my eyes, there was only the darkness
below. The pulse in my neck was throbbing. With each movement, I could feel the
muscles of his back contracting and relaxing beneath my fingers. When we reached
the top, he set me down. I cradled my cut hands, exhausted. I was terrified that
he would leave me again.

“What happened to Lim Tian Ching and Master
Awyoung?” I asked, after a strained silence.

“Well,” he said, “thanks in part to your evidence,
a number of arrests were made, including your erstwhile suitor. They’ve been
sent on to the courts for judgment.”

“What about Fan? An ox-headed demon said it was
taking her to the Lim mansion.”

“She never arrived. I’m afraid there’s no trace of
her.”

I was silent, digesting this. It was a terrible end
for Fan. Er Lang made no comment, but he studied me intently.

“I’ve done you a disservice,” he said at last.
“It’s only fair to let you know, but you won’t have a normal life span.”

I bit my lip. “Have you come to take my soul,
then?”

“I told you that’s not my jurisdiction. But you’re
not going to die soon. In fact, you won’t die for a long time, far longer than I
initially thought, I’m afraid. Nor will you age normally.”

“Because I took your
qi
?”

He inclined his head. “I should have stopped you
sooner.”

I thought of the empty years that stretched ahead
of me, years of solitude long after everyone I loved had died. Though I might
have children or grandchildren. But perhaps they might comment on my strange
youthfulness and shun me as unnatural. Whisper of sorcery, like those Javanese
women who inserted gold needles in their faces and ate children. In the Chinese
tradition, nothing was better than dying old and full of years, a treasure in
the bosom of one’s family. To outlive descendants and endure a long span of
widowhood could hardly be construed as lucky. Tears filled my eyes, and for some
reason this seemed to agitate Er Lang, for he turned away. In profile, he was
even more handsome, if that was possible, though I was quite sure he was aware
of it.

“It isn’t necessarily a good thing, but you’ll see
all of the next century, and I think it will be an interesting one.”

“That’s what Tian Bai said,” I said bitterly. “How
long will I outlive him?”

“Long enough,” he said. Then more gently, “You may
have a happy marriage, though.”

“I wasn’t thinking about him,” I said. “I was
thinking about my mother. By the time I die, she’ll have long since gone on to
the courts for reincarnation. I shall never see her again.” I burst into sobs,
realizing how much I’d clung to that hope, despite the fact that it might be
better for my mother to leave the Plains of the Dead. But then we would never
meet in this lifetime. Her memories would be erased and her spirit lost to me in
this form.