White Tigress (31 page)

Was wonderful. And intriguing. And more alive than any Christian prayer or act or holy day she had ever experienced. So, she asked herself honestly, if Ru Shan's Taoism conflicted with Christianity, which would she pick? Which direction did she want to explore?

Taoism, she answered herself, horrified by her thought. Horrified and intrigued. But mostly, she was being honest. She wanted to learn more about Taoism. Then Ru Shan spoke, his mellow tones warming her long before she understood his meaning.

"Do you not understand why I have brought you to a church to marry you? It is so you understand that I support your choices. I do not wish to change you, Lydia. I wish to add you to my home, my life. Not as a pet," he said before she could ask, "but as it should have been in the beginning. As my wife."

She smiled, suddenly finding forgiveness in her heart for his one evil act. "We would not have met otherwise. I would have come to Shanghai, been thrown off by Maxwell, and returned home unchanged." She took a deep breath, finding her body and heart expanded as she at last embraced the truth of her experience. "We have a saying in England. That God works in mysterious ways. Perhaps, hard as it may seem, God wished for things to happen exactly this way. So that we could meet in the only way possible."

Abruptly Lydia straightened, feeling both taller and softer than she had in a very long time. "I will marry you, Ru Shan. Indeed, it will be my greatest honor to become your wife."

Once again, he bowed deeply before her—three times, as he acknowledged her gift to him. Then, hand in hand, they walked with the priest to the altar.

Within moments, it was accomplished. The words were said, the papers signed, and she became Mrs. Ru Shan Cheng. Their first kiss as man and wife was tender. Sweet. And had none of the passion she hoped would come later.

Now that she had agreed, had become his wife, his attention seemed focused on accomplishing the deed, on making it legal in the English court and in securing her promise to remain faithful to him always.

She might have worried if it had not all happened so quickly. By the time it was done, she had no time to question. Especially as he lifted her into the English closed carriage he had rented for the occasion, and as he at last bent his considerable focus back to her.

"Tomorrow we will perform the ceremony that will make our union official in China. We will do this in my home, before my family."

She nodded, a knot of fear already tightening her throat. She knew nothing of Chinese ceremonies. She had no idea what to do. Once again, he seemed to read her thoughts, soothed her fears before she could even frame them in words.

"Do not worry yourself about this formality. I have the clothing you should wear." At this, he handed her the package wrapped in brown paper that he had been carrying when he first walked into the mission. "I will teach you what to say and what to do." He smiled as he took hold of her hand. "It is a simple ritual, Lydia. You will have no difficulties."

She smiled, squeezing his hand as she tried to calm the butterflies that were churning frantically in her stomach. She succeeded in a small way, her breath evening out and her heart steadying at a slightly slower tempo.

At least, it did until his next words penetrated her consciousness.

"Tonight, we will celebrate our honeymoon. Now that we are man and wife, I have so much more that I can teach you."

From the letters of Mei Lan Cheng

10 October, 1883

Dearest Li Hua—

When I said I wished I could see you, Li Hua, I did not mean for it to be that way. The death of your daughter was terrible, and I grieve constantly for you. I will not write what I think of that hideous Imperial soldier. The corruption in our beautiful country is growing more and more hateful. And yet, how can I not also be thankful—that I could at last see you for a while, even under these wretched conditions? I was thankful. And you know I hold you with all tenderness in my heart.

Perhaps now you have suffered enough, and Heaven will grant you a son.

My own son has deserted me. While I was gone for the funeral, Sheng Fu dismissed our son's tutors. Ru Shan is to work in the shop every day now, learning what to do from his father. He tells me I always knew this day would come and to quit my weeping. But I cannot, Li Hua. How much must we suffer before Heaven smiles upon us once again?

After all the money I scrimped and saved, after all the things I have done for the monks so that Ru Shan would become a great scholar. All destroyed. All useless. He is to be a shopkeeper like his father. Like all the Chengs, and I am to stand aside with bowed head and accept my husband's pronouncements.

But what if I do not like them? What if I wish to be heard in this house of opium and foreign gold? I cannot. That is not my place, and so I am silent and miserable and alone except for you. I thank Heaven daily for you and the comfort your letters bring. I pray that mine bring joy to your heart.

Please forgive me. I cannot write more. My tears are destroying the paper.

—Mei Lan

Those who adapt themselves will be preserved until the end. That which bends can be straightened. That which is empty can be filled. That which is worn away can be renewed.

—Lao Tzu, founder of Taoism

~

Chapter 13

Lydia did not know what to expect from her first night of married life, but the last thing she wanted was to return to the same apartment, the same room where she had first met Ru Shan. The bare walls of the flat and the depressing, kept-woman atmosphere had her hesitating on the doorstep, unwilling to enter.

"If I had the means, Lydia," Ru Shan said softly from inside, "I would take you to a palace and love you in perfumed gardens with the pearl moon overhead. But I am only a poor shopkeeper, and this is all I can afford. I cannot take you to my home yet. I would have to introduce you to my entire family, and I have no wish to share you just now. Please, Lydia, you must understand. I am your husband now, not your owner. You are my wife, not a pet. Please forgive me the pain I caused you in the beginning, but do not damage our future by remembering too much of the past."

She didn't answer, thinking instead that she had married a man with a beautiful voice and a persuasive manner. She had not thought so at first. He kept too much hidden, told more often than he asked. But he was asking now, even when he did not have to. He was her husband, and it was her moral and legal obligation to obey him. And yet he asked her to please come in, to return to the place where she had first been his.

She smiled at him, took his extended hand and walked into her new life. She was his wife, and she was going to enjoy her honeymoon. So what if she was not carried over the threshold. So what if Ru Shan was not an English aristocrat. He was her husband and her choice.

"This is a wonderful place for our first night together, Ru Shan," she said as happily as she could manage. "It is only bridal nerves that have me hesitating."

He nodded as if he understood, then pulled her closer to him, drawing her in by tugging on her hand. She moved slowly, unsure what he wanted, then flushed a hot red of embarrassment and pleasure as he pulled her hand to his lips. She wore no gloves and so he had easy access to her bare skin. And as she stood there, just inside the door, he took his time kissing her hand, gently stroking each finger before following it with soft kisses and long, erotic strokes of his tongue. By the time he had reached her palm, her yin dew had begun to flow.

He was a master at what he did, and her nerves shifted from anxiety to anticipation. But before she could do more than stand frozen in embarrassment, Ru Shan looked up, a pleased smile on his face.

"Our dinner has arrived." And indeed, as he spoke, Fu De entered, carrying great stacks of food in bamboo containers. "The full bridal feast will be tomorrow," her husband continued. "This is for us tonight. As is this," he said, as he carefully took a large artist's brush from his servant. It rested, handle side down, in a pot of clear liquid. Naturally curious, Lydia stepped forward, offering to take the container from him so that she could discover what was in it. But he shook his head, quietly moving into the bedroom to set it on the floor near the bed.

She was left behind with Fu De, and together he and she quickly set up a picnic meal on a bamboo mat. Though Lydia couldn't help but wonder what her husband was doing in the other room, her stomach was exceptionally pleased with the scents wafting up from the bowls.

One month ago she never would have believed she could relish Fu De's strange Chinese concoctions. But apparently, her stomach knew better. As Fu De carefully set down one dish after another while saying things like, "for cleansing," "for youthful skin and hair," and "for great stamina," Lydia's stomach loudly seconded his words. Apparently, her body preferred these strange foods to the heavy English fare she'd grown up on.

Ru Shan returned, a true smile of joy on his face. He spoke with Fu De, thanking the young man for his services and giving instructions for the morning. All the while, Lydia sat on her knees staring at her husband. He was smiling. Not a small, polite smile. Not even the half grimace, half grin of ecstasy she had also seen. This was a true joy that welled up from deep within him and filled his entire being with cheer. Her husband was
happy.

The change in him was so shocking that Lydia could barely take it in. It was as if his entire body lightened, his day-to-day mask of polite Chinese stoicism tossed aside, revealing this wonderful being beneath. And he was her husband! She would get to share her life with his wonderful person!

She couldn't believe her luck. So when Fu De at last bowed himself out, Lydia found herself totally content and surprisingly giddy. Indeed, in a moment of girlish enthusiasm, she abruptly leaned forward and kissed Ru Shan soundly on the lips.

Naturally, he was shocked. She had never acted so uninhibited around him before. But after a moment of surprise, he relaxed into her enthusiastic expression. He supported her with his arms while he kissed her back. Then he shifted and deposited another loud smack on her lips. When he was done, he pulled away and looked into her eyes.

"Is that an English custom?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps I will make it one." At his confused look, she laughed. "I am happy, Ru Shan. I am a wife
and
a dressmaker now. Except for children, it is everything I have ever wanted, and I am very, very happy."

He smiled at her, but his expression was not as full as she hoped. When she hesitated, he explained. "I am pleased, my wife, that you are so happy. I hope this state continues." Then he paused, and Lydia found herself bracing herself. She could already tell his next words would not be pleasant ones. "Lydia, you understand that every time a man finds release, he loses much youthfulness. That energy goes into his seed. Indeed, we believe that we lose a year of our lives every time."

She nodded slowly, remembering that he had indeed told her that.

"Lydia, I do not wish for children now. It takes much seed—many emissions from the jade dragon—to create a child. I have no wish for that right now."

"Because you want to become an Immortal," she guessed. "Because you wish to take all of that energy to..." She didn't know the rest. Thankfully, he answered her unspoken question.