Year of the Golden Dragon (2 page)

The teacher moved quickly to a wall. Crouching down, he brushed a thin layer of dirt from the top of a stone slab. Pushing the stone aside he reached into a nook beneath and removed a paper scroll. The teacher was reaching for another scroll when he stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. A shape was forming in the black smoke swirling up from the fire. Chen shoved the scroll back underground and pulled the stone over the hiding place.

Master Chen stood just as black eyes formed in the smoke to glare at him from a horned beast’s head. The creature spewed hot steam from its nostrils and yawned, revealing long, yellowed teeth inside a wet mouth. Its thick neck twisted and turned, extending into a snakelike body covered with shimmering scales. The dragon grew until it nearly filled the hut.

“Greetings, Master Chen.” The sound was a low gurgle, as if from deep under water.

The animal circled the old man. Chen avoided looking into its flat, round eyes.

“Hail, Black Dragon, King of Dragons. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

The creature rolled its ebony eyes toward the palace. “The human leader, who calls himself Emperor, has wounded Black Dragon.”

“Most dignified and esteemed guest,” said Master Chen. “If I might ask my friend…”

“Friend?” Black Dragon roared, pressing his fanged jaws into the man’s face. A smell like rotting fish eggs gushed from the beast’s mouth as dollops of spit flew everywhere. The man remained still, trying to ignore what hit him in the face. “Master Chen has also hurt Black Dragon.”

Chen cringed.

“Dragons and humans have long lived in divine balance. Black Dragon respected this ancient harmony. When this emperor gathered the humans under one ruler, Black Dragon was pleased since it is the correct way to keep men in their place. When this emperor asked Black Dragon to assist Chen in advising the throne, Black Dragon was pleased once more – as was Nu Wa, the creator goddess.”

A low, deep groan erupted from the animal’s long throat. As it shut its enormous eyes, a transparent film of skin and veins folded over them. The dragon bent its neck one way, then another. Back and forth, its monstrous head swung about the hut.

“Mighty Black Dragon only ever had one request,” moaned the dragon. “My jade from Nu Wa was never to be altered or broken in any way. Still, when the Empress Ching broke my jade, Black Dragon found it in his heart to forgive the Emperor for his wife’s evil deed.

“When you, my blood brother, kept the secret of the Emperor making a necklace out of my precious jade, Black Dragon forgave Chen.”

Master Chen glanced sideways at the growing flames.

The dragon sighed as it opened its reptilian eyes to thin slits. “The entire kingdom has knowledge of your ‘second sight’. Could Chen not see the slaying of my dragon clan?”

“Venerable Dragon. Please, I am afraid I do not…”

“Silence!” Black Dragon roared. “Your emperor has ended the era of dragons and men living together in harmony. Tell this to your almighty ruler: ‘An error of the present strikes the living; an error for the future strikes sons and grandsons.’

“I have destroyed the palace and its occupants. If anyone has survived, the rebels will finish them off.” The animal snapped his jaws shut and snorted more steam through his wide nostrils. “To prove Black Dragon is not completely heartless, I will give humans a chance to rectify their forefathers’ mistakes.”

“Forefathers?” Master Chen asked softly.

Ignoring him, Black Dragon continued, “When the Year of the Golden Dragon meets the next millennium, Black Dragon will await the heirs of the Emperor and Master Chen. All of them, be it two or twenty, must come together to the river in the capital city to return the gift I once gave to the Emperor. It will be restored to its former shape as only Black Dragon has the power to do.”

“Wise, Kind, Thoughtful, Generous Mighty Black Dragon,” whispered Master Chen. “The Year of the Golden Dragon coincides with a millennium only once every three thousand years.”

“Exactly,” hissed Black Dragon. “Two thousand years from now.”

“Surely Black Dragon –” Chen started to say.

The beast screeched, snorting hot, putrid vapors that filled the air. “If these humans fail to unite and return my jade, this day of hell will be repeated. Just as on this day, every man, woman and child will pay with their lives. Does Chen understand the magnitude of my loss now?”

Chen gagged and doubled over from the stench and impact of Black Dragon’s words. Grasping his staff for support, Chen shook his head to regain his senses. He looked up at the flames licking the thatched roof.

Black Dragon was gone.

Master Chen stumbled to the door and saw the children astride their horses. The dog stood braced in front of them. The old master heaved himself up onto his horse, leaned forward and whispered into the animal’s ear. The stallion reared up and lunged toward a break in the woods, leading the emperor’s sons and Chen’s faithful dog away from the roaring fire.

Chapter 1

The Lure

Hong Mei sat down at the computer
and logged on to the Internet. She glanced across the café and saw the owner, Mrs. Wu, lighting a stick of incense. Hong Mei knew the grey-haired woman’s routine. Every time Hong Mei entered the neighbourhood Internet café, Mrs. Wu started burning incense. It seemed that she, like everyone else, believed the gossip about Hong Mei, which was – Hong Mei stank!

Hong Mei’s fingers pecked hard at the keyboard as she typed in a web address. Maybe I do smell, she thought, but who wouldn’t? If they had to lean over bubbling pots of herbs everyday, they’d stink too.

The people in this town outside Beijing were as bad as every other place they’d lived in China. It didn’t matter where she and Mama moved. Whether it was a bustling industrial centre or a serene fishing village, the locals always eyed the new arrivals with suspicion. From landlords to shopkeepers and neighbors, everyone was curious about the mother-daughter team and all were equally blunt.

“Where is your husband?” they’d ask her mother. “You are married, aren’t you?” Or they might be a little subtler and say something like, “Hmm. You look awfully young to be a widow,” hoping that Mama would give them some titillating gossip they could spread as soon as she and Hong Mei were out of sight.

But her mother never bothered answering their questions. She’d simply pull herself taller and stare down her perfectly straight nose at them. Her gaze would take in their inquisitive faces and travel slowly over their bodies. When she was done, Mama would nod with a slight smile on her lips. She would then speak very softly, in a bewitching sort of way.

She might say something like, “You shouldn’t have to live with that painful knee,” or “Have you been putting up with that sore back for long?” or whatever else her gold-flecked eyes and uncanny intuition told her. Of course, Hong Mei’s mother was never wrong in her initial assessments and the unwelcome focus on her personal life would instantly shift to her inquisitors.

“Are you a doctor?” they’d ask.

“Yes,” Mama would say. “I am a healer and I can cure anything.” Of course, she wouldn’t mention that her insight was supernatural or her vision better than x-ray. Even if people were curious as to how she read them so well, they were overcome with gratitude that someone was treating them for a bothersome ailment they’d often lived with for too long.

From toothaches or foot pain to insomnia or allergies, her mother had a remedy for everything. The longer she and Hong Mei stayed in a place – which usually wasn’t very long – the better her mother’s reputation as a healer would get. In a short while, people quit asking about Hong Mei’s missing father.

Other than patients and their family members, Hong Mei’s mother rarely talked to the townspeople. She made no friends. Most of their neighbours probably thought that Mama’s desire for privacy was because of some past sorrow or tragedy that had befallen the mother and daughter team. In reality, it was fear.

Mama was always afraid that the secrets of their past would be discovered. In a land where marriage and family are the most important parts of
everyone’s
life, people couldn’t help but find it strange that a woman and her daughter were on their own. It was
unnatural
not to have a husband, grandparents or cousins around. Why was there no one else with them?

And if this worry was not enough, there was also the chance that someone would find out about Mama’s magical powers of healing. Both she and Hong Mei knew that people were happy to be healed, but if they suspected it was through strange and mystical techniques, the authorities would no doubt be called in. And a single mother with a daughter to support didn’t want to get thrown into prison, or worse, an insane asylum.

Under this shadow of dread, Hong Mei and her mother led their lives according to three strict rules: never keep written records of patients or the medicine Mama created; never share personal information with anyone; always leave town immediately if someone became too suspicious. And when they did flee, it was at night and always without saying goodbye.

Soon after they’d come to this village of Dong Hei, Hong Mei was helping her mother on her rounds. While her mother examined an old man at his home, Hong Mei heated a batch of medicine over a portable gas burner. It was always her job to make sure concoctions didn’t stick to the bottom or boil over.

That day, while Hong Mei stirred the steaming brew, she heard, “What’s that awful stench?”

Hong Mei stood up straight and saw a young girl standing in the front doorway. Hong Mei recognized her as one of the popular girls from school, probably the old man’s granddaughter. She watched as the girl pinched her nose with one hand and waved the air in front of her with the other.

“I have never smelled anything so horrible,” the girl said, wrinkling her nose in disgust at Hong Mei.

“Dui-bu-qi,”
Hong Mei said, feeling her face burn. “I’m sorry. It’s just the medicine.”

Her schoolmate didn’t bother listening. She just turned around and ran out of the house.

Hong Mei saw the girl at school the next day, chatting and giggling with some other students. As Hong Mei walked by them, they sniggered and squeezed their noses. Hong Mei turned away, hoping to hide her bright red face. She heard someone in the group say, “Phew! Even her hair stinks.”

In the evening, Hong Mei hadn’t bothered to ask her mother for a remedy for her stench. She knew her mother would only tell her the girls were being rude and to simply ignore them. So, without saying anything, Hong Mei waited until all their neighbors were done using the apartment building’s one bathroom. Armed with her mother’s bandage-cutting scissors, Hong Mei stood before the broken mirror and chopped off her waist-long hair.

At first she thought her haircut looked quite good, but that was because it was wet. When it was dry, Hong Mei looked into the mirror and saw that it stood straight up. She tried to tame it by cutting it even shorter, but it was no use – the hair sprang right back up again.

Her mother was horrified when she saw what Hong Mei had done.
“Xiao Mei,”
Mama said,
“Wei-shen-ma?
Why did you do this?”

Hong Mei lowered her head and shrugged.

Her mother sighed. Hong Mei knew Mama could guess it had something to do with the girls at school. They’d both seen this kind of thing before. In one town, Hong Mei had been taunted for not having a father, another time for being the daughter of a witch doctor. In the last place, the children had teased Hong Mei about the tiny freckles that dusted her nose.

“Never mind,” Hong Mei’s mother said once she had got over the initial shock of Hong Mei’s brush cut. “You are still my beautiful one.” Mama then waved her hands slowly above Hong Mei’s head and recited a chant:

Long and jet black was the hair

That crowned this head, now so bare.

With these ancient words I ask,

Make it grow, twice as fast.

“There,” her mother said as she tucked her own stray wisps of ebony and silver hair back into a loose ponytail. “Repeat that as often as you can. It will make your hair grow.”

Hong Mei said nothing.

“Maybe when you feel better,” Mama said with a gentle smile.

The next day, after a good night’s sleep, Hong Mei’s mood was more optimistic. Before leaving for school, she said the chant and waved her hands over her head. She peered into the mirror, wondering how long it would take before she would see any growth. Well, she must at least smell better.