Cherry Blossom Pavilion - Jinhai

 

Outside the walls of the Pavilion there are angry shouts and the sounds of weapons clashing, punctuated alarmingly by screams.

A servant rushes into the courtyard and bows to Yuan Song, who says, “What?”

“It’s the Imperial Guard, Master.  They’re doing a house-to-house search of the city, looking for an escaped prisoner.  They’re killing anyone they find on the streets.”

Another servant runs in, trembling in panic.  “Master, they want to search the Pavilion.”

“Let them in,” says Yuan Song, “Tell everyone to come here.”

“Y-yes, Master.”

Yuan Song and I look at one another.  “They must have got Li Wei out,” I say, my voice shaky.  “So where are they?  We should have heard news by now.  Unless….”

“Unless the army failed to show.”  Yuan Song's amazingly calm.  My own mind’s racing, dreadful possibilities chasing one after another. 

He comes over and catches me by the shoulders.  “Don’t think about it.  Whatever’s happened, we’ll hear in due course.  But now we have to deal with this.”

The courtesans are starting to filter into the courtyard, clad in flimsy sleeping garments, yawning and grumbling at being disturbed so early.  A few clients who have spent the night are also there, looking mightily embarrassed.  A knot of servants gathers in one corner, the sleepy messenger-children among them.  Yuan Song claps his hands and the muttering dies.  “The soldiers are going to search the house,” he says, “Everyone stay here till they’ve finished.”

He turns to me.  “Stay here too.  I’ll go and speak to them.”

He’s gone for a long time.  The memory of the destruction of Lord Zhao’s house at Eagle Rock comes into my mind.  Dashing into Yuan Song’s apartment, I grab his zither, shove it into its carrying bag and sling it on my back.  I’m very wise to do this.  Soldiers come into the courtyard, thrust their way through the throng and enter my apartment.  We hear the sound of furniture being thrown around and the shattering of porcelain.  The soldiers come out again, push through the now-silent crowd and enter Yuan Song’s apartment.  After more shattering of crockery and furniture, they march out and leave.  Some of them are grinning.  Absolute silence falls.  Even the tumult in the street has died down.

Shocked, we all look at one another, not sure what to do.  A few minutes later, Yuan Song reappears.  “They’ve gone,” he says.  “I’m afraid they’ve left rather a mess.  It looks like we’re all going to spend the day clearing up.  Off you go, now.”

They trail off, whispering.  The stranded clients have gathered in a small crowd, some shame-faced, others defiant.  Yuan Song goes over and bows.  “My Lords, gentlemen, I’m afraid the soldiers aren’t allowing anyone to leave.  You’ll be our guests for the time being.”

“But how long will we have to stay here?” someone objects.

He shrugs.  “It’s at the Emperor’s pleasure.  Please get dressed.  I’ll arrange quarters for you as soon as possible.”

They’re not happy, but there’s nothing they can do.  As they disperse, Yuan Song turns to me.  “Well, they’ve broken everything they can break, the bastards.”

I unsling the zither from my back and hand it to him without a word.  He looks at it for a moment, then puts an arm round my shoulder and hugs me briefly, his eyes closed.  “Thank you,” he says.

“Did you find out anything?”

“The Emperor found out about Li Wei’s escape an hour ago.  He ordered an immediate search of the whole city.”

“The whole city?  That’ll take days!”

“It looks like we’re going to be locked down till they’ve finished.”

“But Li Wei should have been rescued well before midnight.  How come the alarm’s only just been given?”

Yuan Song smiles grimly.  “A guard told me that a message was sent to the Palace before midnight, but the Emperor was holding a banquet and had given strict instructions not to be interrupted.  So they couldn’t give him the message till this morning.”  He runs a hand over his tired face.  “I have to go and give orders in the kitchen – we may have to ration supplies.  And I must organize rooms for the clients who can’t get home.”

“Can I do anything?”

“Clear up the damage in your apartment, if you would.  Could I trouble you to do the same for mine?  The servants will be very busy.”

“No problem.”

“Then I’ll give this back to you.”  He hands me the zither again, pats my shoulder and leaves.

I find I have to sit down, because my legs are trembling.  Clearly the rescue was a success, but where’s the army?  What’s happened to Shan and the others?  Whatever’s happened, there was obviously no time to send messages.  The contingency plan was for the Third Prince to escape and flee south.  Did they manage to get out of the city or are they holed up in the mansion or some other place?  And what’s the situation with Liang Zhou and the others?  Given Li Lien’s pregnancy, and now the lockdown, there’s no possible chance for any of us to get out of the city.  I wonder if the baby’s been born yet.  Whatever, all we can do is sit tight and hope for the best.

The rest of the dismal day is spent clearing up the damage done by the Imperial Guards.  Fortunately, a couple of hours aren’t sufficient to wreak the kind of destruction the Emperor’s troops visited on Eagle Rock, but there was ample time to break screens, windows and furniture, smash crockery and leave filth behind.  They know that no-one will care how much damage they do to a brothel.  I throw out the broken stuff in Yuan Song’s apartment, put the disarranged furniture to rights, clean up the filth and make the place habitable.  The zither table’s been smashed to bits.  I then do the same for my own apartment.  By the afternoon, things are more or less sorted, so I go and offer a helping hand to anyone who needs it.  Some of the courtesans are in tears because their clothes have been slashed to ribbons and their jewelry stolen.  We all share a feeling of helplessness, frustration and not a little fear.

By keeping myself relentlessly busy, I get through the day somehow.  At dusk, I wander back to Yuan Song’s courtyard to find him sitting on the steps of his apartment with his eyes closed.  He got no sleep last night and has been on his feet all day.  He opens his eyes when he hears me approach.  “Jinhai,” he says, smiling, stretching out an arm.

I sit down next to him.  “You should get some sleep.  What’s the supply situation?”

“Plenty of food, though we may get rather tired of rice and vegetables.  The water situation’s more alarming.  No baths for the immediate future.”

“They can’t keep the whole city locked down indefinitely – people will need food and water.”

“I don’t suppose that’s high on the Emperor’s agenda at the moment.”

A servant comes in with a tray of food for the Master and at Yuan Song’s request, brings another tray for me.  Yuan Song wrinkles his nose at the basic earthenware dishes and cups.  “All our beautiful porcelain gone.”

“Well, at least we don’t have to eat off the table.” I say philosophically.

“I’ve done that, in my time.”

“So have I.”

We smile at one another and eat, the trays on our laps.  By the time we finish, darkness has fallen.

“Gods above, I’m tired,” he says with a sigh.  “So tired I haven’t the energy to go to bed.”

“Everything’s sorted and the quilts are clean.”

“I saw.  Thank you.” He groans.  “I ache all over.”

“Get the masseur to come.”

“No, that’s not fair.  He’s been working all day too.”

“Let me try to help.”  I kneel behind him on the veranda and put my hands on his shoulders, then realize with a thump of my heart that I’ve never before touched anyone but Shan in this way.  Yuan Song’s body is slender, elegant, lacking the packed upper-body muscles of the swordsman.  He sighs as my fingers work to ease the tension in his shoulders.  I lift his long hair out of the way, as I used to do for Shan.  Neither of us says anything, but I feel him relaxing under my touch, as Shan does.  And thinking of Shan, I suddenly feel as if my heart’s going to break.

Yuan Song’s very sensitive to mood.  He senses my disarray and smoothly breaks the contact by taking my hands and lifting them briefly to his lips.  “Thank you again,” he says.  “I think I can sleep now.  You should go to bed too.  Try not to worry.  Tomorrow we may have news.”

I watch him go inside and make my way back to my own apartment.  It’s a long time before I fall asleep.

Next day, it’s all too clear that the army has failed us.  The Imperial Guard’s in control of the city.  By noon, the curfew's lifted and news comes to Yuan Song from a contact in the Palace.  “It’s true that the Emperor refused to receive any messages during the banquet.  The Dowager Empress is reportedly in a towering rage.  Late yesterday the Imperial Guard raided the Third Prince’s mansion after a tip-off.  They found documents incriminating the Third Prince in a treasonous correspondence with the lords of the southern provinces.”

My blood chills.

“There’s more.  Local people reported that around midnight on the night of the escape, a body of men headed for the south gate, claiming to be the Emperor and his escort.  The gate-guards let them through.  There were six mounted men, one of whom bore a striking resemblance to the Emperor.  Another rider was reportedly carrying an elderly person now thought to be the escaped prisoner Li Wei.  The Dowager Empress ordered immediate pursuit, but it took some time to assemble a force and they had to wait for daylight, so the Third Prince’s party has a day and a half’s start.”

“How long does it take to get to the southern borders?  Ten, twelve days?  They won’t catch them, not if Shan has anything to do with it.”

“Couriers have been sent out alerting command posts along the south road.”

“He’ll be expecting that.”

“And the reason the army didn’t come up to scratch is because they have a serious outbreak of dysentery in the ranks and can’t enter the city.  Sheer bad luck.”

“Bad luck for us.  How come Third Brother’s spies didn’t inform him?”

Yuan Song shrugs.  “Who knows?  Anyway, the Dowager Empress is spitting fire.  She’s had the prison guards, the jailers and the gate-guards executed and she wants the Third Prince and his escort brought back alive so they can die a traitor’s death.”

“They won’t take them alive,” I say.  “Has anyone mentioned Li Lien?”

He raises his eyebrows.  “No.  It seems that everyone was convinced by your story.  They all believe the young lady’s been moved secretly to a more secure prison somewhere.  It may take them a while to realize that nobody quite knows where, or who gave the order.”

I think for a moment.  “Six mounted men?  That’ll be Third Brother, Shan and Shao Ru for sure.  And probably that adviser, Wan Ning.  I’ll bet the other two are Ren Baiyi and Zi Wuying.  It’s a good team.  I’d back them to make it to safety.”

“Well, if they do, it’ll be a long while before we get any news.  Ten or twelve days to get there and the same for a message to get back.  If they’re captured, we’ll hear sooner.”

“We’d better pray for no news, then,”  I say, feeling that chill again. “I’d better go and check that everyone’s all right.   Will you send me a message if you hear anything?”

“I will.  Take care, the streets may still be dangerous.”

The streets are busy, though the people hurrying to and fro have a distinctly nervous air, probably because there are so many soldiers about.  Nobody stops me as I make my way quickly to Liang Zhou’s house.  The door’s barred, but the servant recognizes me and lets me in, with a fearful glance to right and left.  Liang Zhou and Mo Jiang are in the courtyard, waiting anxiously.  Liang Zhou’s face is lined with worry and even Mo Jiang’s looking strained.  The Liang house and the clinic have been searched but haven’t suffered the same kind of casual destruction as the Pavilion.  Over tea, I communicate all the news and see some of the tension lift from Liang Zhou’s face.  “They got away,” he repeats, as if to reassure himself, “Thank goodness.  We feared the worst.”

“We should get news in twenty days or so.”

“Unless they’re captured,” says Liang Zhou, never one to look on the bright side.

“They won’t be,” Mo Jiang says stoutly, “Not with the Commander and Shao Ru there.”

“But who knows how long they’ll have to stay in the south?  It could be years.”

“Then we’ll go and join them,” Mo Jiang says.

I suddenly remember something important.  “The baby!  Is it born?  What is it?”

This has the happy effect of distracting Liang Zhou.  He smiles.  “Yes, it’s born.  A little girl.”

“And Li Lien?”

“Tired, but everything went well.  Do you want to see the baby?”

I’m not given a chance to refuse, though I’m a little apprehensive, never having had anything to do with babies.  The little girl’s tiny, fast asleep and making sucking noises.  Three women are bending over the cot:  Madam Liang, Xiaxia and Li Lien’s little maid.  Madam Liang and Xiaxia exclaim at the sight of me and Xiaxia dances up to kiss me.  The maid hangs back nervously, looking marginally less pugnacious than when I last saw her.  I smile and say, “I didn’t have time to tell you this before, but your mistress’s family owes you a huge debt of thanks.  Someday they’ll be able to reward you as you deserve.”

She blushes scarlet and twists her hands in her apron.

“Just think,” Xiaxia exclaims, “Ah-Jie volunteered to go into prison with her mistresses so she could take care of them.  And there were rats!”

“Well, I hope you’ll go on looking after Young Lady Li and this little new one.  Does she have a name yet?”

“No, Ah-Lien’s still very tired and weak and hasn’t been able to think about it,” Madam Liang says, “But she did say she wanted to see you when you came back.  I’ll go and see if she’s awake.”

She disappears before I can protest.  I bend over the cot, thinking, this is Shan’s niece.  This little scrap is his family.  A strange protective feeling rises up in me.

Madam Liang comes back.  “She’s awake.  I’ll come with you.”

Li Lien’s reclining on a heap of pillows, her hair neatly braided.  A shadow of prettiness remains in her small face, altered by months of bad food, fear and grief.  “Young Master Zhao," she says, "Please allow this humble person to thank you for saving her and her child.”

“I’m very glad to have been of service,” I reply, wondering if she knows about me and Shan.

“You and my brother are….” she stops, thinks and finally says, “…close?”

I decide to be honest.  “We love one another.  I hope you don’t mind.”

“How could I mind, as long as he’s happy?”  She pauses.  “Young Master Zhao, where is he?”

“It’s a long story.”  I settle down on a cushion by the bed and tell her what’s been happening.  It’s a lot for her to take in:  her father-in-law rescued, only to be obliged to flee for his life to the south with Shan and the Third Prince.

“We think their chances of getting to safety are very good,” I say.  “Shan’s the most competent person I know in that kind of situation.”

“Yes,” she says, her voice trembling.  “I wish I could see him.”

“So do I.  But I hope you’ll look on me as a sort of brother too, while we wait for him.”

She smiles wearily and her eyes close.  Madam Liang touches my arm, so I rise and make my way out.

“Will she be all right?” I ask.

“Of course.  With plenty of sleep and good food and kindness, she’ll be fine.”

“Well there’s plenty of kindness in this house,” I say, and she smiles and blushes.

It’s getting late now, so Liang Zhou insists I spend the night.  I bunk down with Mo Jiang.  Inevitably we end up reminiscing about our time in Qiu City and I fall asleep with many memories in my mind.  Next day, there are more people to contact.  I find Hao Meng fretting in his inn.  He listens eagerly to everything I tell him.  “Well, what do we do now?” he asks.

“Pray the Third Prince’s party makes it to the south.  And then wait and see how things develop.  There’s nothing else we can do.  Are you staying at this inn all winter?”

“Yup, I’ve got an arrangement with the landlady.”  He winks and grins.

“I’ll be at the Lei house till further notice.  We all need to stay in touch. You can always come to us, or to Liang Zhou’s.  Or the Cherry Blossom Pavilion.”

He purses his lips.  “A bit expensive for me.”

“I’ll negotiate a discount,” I say and he grins widely.

Next is Shao Su, patiently sewing in her little house in the artisan’s quarter.  Apologizing for my lateness in doing so, I thank her for everything she’s done for us.  Then again I recount everything we know so far and she too listens intently.  “So Ah-Ru’s not coming back this winter?” she says.

“I don’t think so.  Nothing will happen till the spring, if at all.  I’ll let you have any news we get and you can always leave a message for me at the Lei house or the Liang house.”

“How’s the young lady?  Sir Hao told me she was having a baby.  Did it all go well?”

“Yes, she had a little girl.”

“Ah,” says Shao Su.  She gets up and goes to a box at the side of the room.  From it, she takes a tiny robe, embroidered finely with a pattern of flowers.

“Will you give this to the young lady?  I’ll wrap it up for you.”

“Of course I will.  It’s beautiful.  She’ll love it.”

She smiles, and wraps the robe in a spare piece of material.

“Will you be all right on your own?” I ask, a little anxiously.

“I’ve been on my own for many years,” she says smiling.  “I have good neighbours and friends around me.  I’ll be fine, Young Master Zhao.  But it’s kind of you to ask.”

“You must come to me if you need anything,” I say. “Anything at all.”

Finally, I make my way, wearily, to the Lei house, where I’m pounced on and hugged by all and sundry.  Even the grey dog honours me by coming over to rub his head against my knee.  For a fourth time, I recount the news to an eager audience.  They’ve heard nothing, of course.  They’ve been lucky.  The house-to-house search was abandoned as soon as the news broke of Li Wei leaving the city, and the merchant quarter didn’t suffer from the attentions of the Imperial Guard.  Yao Lin’s even a little disappointed that he hasn’t seen any action.

“Be grateful,” I say. “They were killing people in the streets.”

He asks the same question as everyone else.  “Do you think Sir Zhan and the others will make it to the south?”

“If anyone can do it, they can.  But we won’t hear for a while.  If we do hear anything immediately, it’ll be bad news.”

He looks at me sympathetically, but says nothing more. 

In my room after dinner, as the house prepares for sleep, I finally allow my bitter tears to fall.  I cry for the wreck of our plans, for the thought that Shan is in danger of his life yet again and for the fact that he’s now as far away from me as ever, and not likely to return for months at best and years at most.  Eventually, exhausted, I fall asleep.