Secret of a Thousand Beauties (23 page)

“I’m very sorry, sir. . . .”

“All right, young miss,” he said dejectedly, “I am happy to have met you. The shoes you embroidered are now my earning tools. And I really like the tigers.”

He put some money down to pay for the food and got up to leave. “Good luck to you and your embroidery. If you want to chat again, you can always come here for my storytelling. Or someday bring your work to show me. Maybe I can introduce you to our rivals who are still in business.”

In a moment he had disappeared into the crowd.

I didn’t go back to the tea place to chat with him or show him my embroidery. In fact, I had no wish to see this man again—in case he might bring me bad luck.

Heavenly Phoenix’s bankruptcy meant nothing to me, but in spite of everything, I was concerned for Aunty Peony’s safety. There wasn’t anything I could do for her so, as the days passed, I focused on my new life in Our Lady of Sorrows Church. Father Edwin only assigned me light tasks like shopping nearby, mailing letters, brewing tea, and setting the table, while exempting me from cleaning, cooking, and gardening where he had other help.

But as if my life had not been complicated enough, I found out I was pregnant,
again,
this time by Wenyi. I felt both happy and sad. Happy that a new life was kicking inside me, but sad that, instead of having a clean break from the Li family, I’d be forever entangled with them. I also agonized over how I should tell Father Edwin about this.

One day when I brought Father Edwin his tea, he signaled me to sit across from him.

“Spring Swallow, from now on I hope you will help Our Lady of Sorrows by embroidering works for our upcoming auction.”

I’d been expecting Father to ask me this for a long time, so I nodded my head like a hungry chick pecking on rice. I was pleased that I would be able to pick up embroidery again, and that I would be doing something to return Father Edwin’s many kindnesses.

“Of course, Father Edwin, thank you so much!”

He smiled. “I should thank you. I am happy that you have turned out to be such a hardworking, responsible young woman.”

“It is because of your and Aunty Peony’s teaching.”

“Thank you. But I’m sure not all her students are as good as you. I suggest you embroider some small items first; if they sell well, then maybe you can do some larger works later.”

From that day on I was back at my favorite occupation again. I felt pleasure as the needle in my hand moved smoothly in and out of the fabric. I did cute little things that I thought would be easy to sell: children’s shoes, hats, bibs, stomach covers, blankets with lively animals like tigers, roosters, monkeys, sheep, or pretty flowers like lotuses, orchids, plum blossoms.

I also embroidered pillow covers for newlyweds with Mandarin ducks for marital harmony, dragon and phoenix for loving union, double characters for happiness, and one hundred children for fertility. Moreover, I did a few that would appeal to everybody: bats for good fortune, paired carps for abundance, and cranes for longevity.

But sometimes when I embroidered for weddings, I felt sad. Shen Feng’s image and the memory of our all too few happy times on the mountain together would flit across my mind like scenes from a silent movie. I’d imagine him standing on the peak playing a melancholy tune on his flute and gazing at me with sorrowful eyes, as if mourning his tragic fate. Sometimes a tear or two escaped my eyes before I was able to put my mind back on my work.

But my mood lifted when, a few weeks later, my embroidery went on sale. As I’d expected, parents loved to buy things for their newborns, and most couples would splurge on the most important day of their lives. Encouraged by my success, I continued to embroider with great enthusiasm, branching out to other items such as shoes, purses, gloves, hanging decorations.

Though days in Our Lady of Sorrows continued to pass pleasantly, if uneventfully, some sorrows remained. I missed Little Doll and felt very guilty that I had let myself be intimidated into leaving her at the mercy of the Li family. For now all I could do was send small gifts to her at Golden Thread in Soochow. Of course I didn’t attach any return address, so I had no idea if she received them. I’d been also thinking that since Ping had warned me that I needed to escape, maybe she would help me see Little Doll secretly.

Then one day as I was thinking back on these matters, I suddenly realized that I had been fooled. I set down the shoe I had been embroidering as the ground under me seemed to tilt crazily.

It was not I who had to worry about the police, but Old Li. Now he was the thief who had the imperial undergarment! Indeed, he would never report it to the police but keep it as his own. So Ping only pretended to be nice to get rid of me quickly so I couldn’t confront her father and cause a big fuss. She’d never done anything for me before, so I should have known that she was not being my friend—but rather her father’s accomplice in stealing from me!

I felt overcome with rage. But even if I’d known I was being tricked, it would have been to no avail. Old Li already had the garment and he’d rather die than give it back to me. So, though no police would have been called, I still had to leave—especially because I’d also lost “his” grandson.

Now I was pregnant again, this time with a child who was really his, but I would never tell him, so he would lose this one too. In fact, I decided I would never tell anyone who was the father as I did not want to take any chance that Wenyi could come back into my life.

It would be some time before my pregnancy showed, so I put off figuring out how I would tell Father Edwin and the others at Our Lady of Sorrows. For now, I threw myself into the church activities, including frequent ventures into Peking for errands. The young seminarian Ryan McFarland insisted on accompanying me to protect me from the perils of the big city. In fact, I was beginning to suspect that his interest in me went beyond saving my soul. He also liked to watch me embroider, during which he would help me practice my conversational English. Sometimes he would bring me small gifts, such as a fancy needle cushion or a potted bamboo to cheer up my bare room. He did seem a little nervous around me, however.

I liked Ryan, a gentleman with great compassion, faith, and devotion. But I sensed something with him that I never had with Father Edwin—that Ryan was a man and felt desire, no matter how strongly he wanted to be a priest. I didn’t know if his infatuation was due simply to my proximity, or if he really appreciated my talent in embroidering. To him I must seem exotic, and perhaps he was also moved by my tragic background. Ryan was a kind and attractive man, but I dared not dream that I’d find love that might actually last. Let alone from a foreigner, though a decent one. But it seemed more likely that nothing would come of it—after all, I was competing for him with God.

But as my baby was growing inside me every day, I began to think in a different light. Since I couldn’t possibly go back to the Li mansion, again, I needed a father for my little one. So, if I was to accept Ryan’s love, I needed to tell him about this and ask if he was willing to be the “father.” I’d lied to Wenyi and disaster struck, so I didn’t want to lie again, especially not to an honest, loving man. It was bad karma.

But I quickly dismissed this preposterous idea. What could possibly be on my mind? To seduce a priest-to-be so he was willing to be my baby’s father and take care of both of us?

24

O
ne Saturday Ryan McFarland suggested we go out shopping together. His pretext was that because my embroideries were selling so well, we needed to replenish our stock of thread and fabric. Also, since I’d been working so hard, it would be good for me to have a break. But I could tell that he wanted another chance to be with me alone outside the church, since my embroidery supplies were not even close to running out.

I did like Ryan, maybe even very much. But like my revolutionary husband, he had his mind on something higher than a mere woman. Even if we became lovers, where would our future be? Ryan was going to be a priest—would he be willing to break his vows? Of course, I heard that seminarians, or even ordained priests, would sometimes renounce their vows for love. Anyway, who would stop them, God? Or Our Lady of Sorrows? But I was also well aware that scandal might accomplish what God could not.

After we finished shopping at the busy Wangfu Jing commercial area, Ryan took me to eat at an open-air food stall facing the busy street. We ordered Dragon Well tea, dan dan noodles, pan-fry chicken dumplings, and stir-fry spicy pork belly. We sat quietly watching the bustling crowds as people with anxious faces went about their errands, carrying bags of goods and haggling with street vendors. While the adults looked harried, their children skipped along happily with their parents, holding new toys or begging for candy. A few elderly people shuffled along with bored, blank expressions, as if they’d already seen enough of this world.

Not far from us a middle-aged woman sat inside an alleyway mending silk stockings. Straining her eyes through thick glasses, she nimbly moved her fingers to sew the delicate material. I was curious because from a distance, she could have passed as an embroiderer. I’d never even touched a silk stocking, but I knew they were the latest luxury imported from the West. But only beautiful, rich
taitai
who rode in shiny cars with white-gloved drivers could afford them. Did I wish for silk stockings? Maybe. But mostly I was tired of being poor, insecure, and on the run.

However, I knew that even being rich did not guarantee a happy life. There was the famous movie star Ruan Lingyu—she could afford all the silk stockings in the world but could no longer wear them because she’d killed herself. Her movie
Modern Women
made fun of vicious reporters and gossip columnists, but the press took its revenge by slandering her. Finally, she was unable to put up with all the lashing tongues. Her last words were
renyan kewei
(“words can kill”).

I sighed inside. Although my situation was not close to Ruan’s since I was not famous or a movie star, I could understand her hopelessness. Though the day was sunny, I could not clear the gloomy thoughts from my mind. Wenyi, Old Li, Ping, Aunty Peony, Leilei—was it my karma to always be among people like these? Were there any kind ones?

But then I looked across at Ryan, who seemed to sense my mood because he had an expression of concern. I did not want to appear unhappy in front of him, so I tried to push the unpleasant thoughts from my mind.

Nearby was a store displaying bamboo wares. A young, plain-faced woman was caressing a bamboo stroller with one hand and her bulging belly with the other. The jade green, half-moon-shaped pram was the cutest little thing I’d ever seen. Horizontal poles along the sides kept the baby from falling out. There were four wheels on the bottom and a long handle in back so the parents could push their little treasure when they were out for a stroll. I imagined curious little eyes darting around, taking in this new world. But like everyone, he would grow up and learn what this world is really like.

Now the young mother-to-be tapped on the pram, probably testing if it would be sturdy enough for her little treasure. A young man took her hand as he bent over to examine the pram with her.

As I watched, my hand moved to caress my belly, imagining
my
to-be-born little treasure. Would it be a boy or a girl? If it were up to me, I’d prefer a girl, so I could dress her up in my embroidery and someday pour out all my secrets to her. The last thing I wanted was a boy who resembled his father, Li Wenyi. Then I realized—he would be my baby, after all.

Ryan’s gentle voice piped up, interrupting my reverie. “What’s on your mind, Spring Swallow? You’ve been very quiet.”

I blurted out, “Ryan, I’m pregnant.”

He stared at me, chopsticks suspended in midair. The air around us seemed frozen, while the people passing by us kept talking and laughing, oblivious to our little drama.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m pregnant—carrying a baby.”

He put down his chopsticks, cast a quick look at the young pregnant woman still checking on the baby carriage, then back to me.

“Are you serious?”

“Ryan, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

He didn’t respond directly to my question, but asked, “Is that the reason you . . . came to our church?”

“Ryan, I had no other place to go.”

He stared at me.

“Now you must think I’m a bad woman.”

He shook his head, took a sip of his tea, and looked down at the table. Finally, he raised his head, asking, “Who is the father?”

“It’s the store owner, Old Li’s son.”

“Then why did you leave him?” His voice sounded calm, but I could tell that inside his emotions were in turmoil. He knew that I’d been married, so he had to know I was no longer a virgin. Maybe foreigners didn’t care so much about this, only the backward, feudal, superstitious Chinese.

I hesitated, not knowing what to say.

“Spring Swallow, God forgives all sinners. You can trust me, and Father Edwin, too, to help you,” he said, squeezing my hand for reassurance.

I spoke rapidly, trying to explain. “Wenyi’s father arranged the marriage, but I discovered after the wedding that his son was dissolute. He spent most evenings out drinking and gambling away his father’s money. When I refused him, he . . . forced me.” I rubbed my stomach. “That’s how I got pregnant.”

Ryan looked very upset. “I’m so sorry, Spring Swallow.” He paused to calm himself, then asked, “Did he hit you?”

“No, he just didn’t care about me. Actually, he’s not my husband anymore.”

“What happened?”

“He gave me the letting-go-the-wife letter. So now I have no husband, just a baby on the way.”

Ryan shook his head, looking deep in thought. “Father Edwin told me about your hard life . . . but I had no idea that your husband was that bad to you. Spring Swallow, you deserve a better man than him, one who will love and appreciate you.”

I knew that Ryan really had himself in mind for this. That was why he often seemed so awkward around me—because he liked me as a woman. He planned to be a priest, but he had feelings a priest isn’t supposed to have. Unlike Father Edwin, who had always been kind to me but nothing more.

Ryan blushed, then asked for a fresh pot of tea and filled our cups.

He took several quick sips, then asked in a neutral tone, “Did you tell Father Edwin about your pregnancy?”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid. . . .”

He squeezed my hand again. “I understand.” Then he remained silent for long moments as if deep in thought about matters of life and death.

Just then a middle-aged man nearby spat on the ground and yelled, “Whore! White-ghost-fucking whore!”

A younger man immediately joined in the attack. “White ghost, stop corrupting our women and go back to your country!”

“Yes,” said the older one. “Get away from our women and get out of China!”

Ryan immediately stepped between me and the two men, steered me away from the dangerously growing crowd, tossed a few coins onto the table, then lifted me into a rickshaw.

 

When we got back, Ryan left me off at my room, but he seemed to avoid me. I assumed that he did not want to be around a woman with a past like mine, especially now I was carrying a “fatherless” baby. I went back to my room and cried. It seemed I had lost one of the few friends who had ever been kind to me.

The following days when Ryan and I ran into each other at church, he didn’t say much. Not that he was ever impolite, just suddenly somewhat distant and formal. His sudden change of behavior bothered me. Because I started to like him and even hope that maybe we’d have a future together.

 

Two weeks later, when embroidering in my room, I heard knocking on my door and Ryan’s voice calling my name. He came in, closed the door, pulled a chair to sit across from me, and took my hand.

“Spring Swallow, I apologize if I’ve been cold to you.”

I put down my embroidery and looked at him. He seemed to have lost weight. Hair tousled, his cheeks were hollowed and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“It’s okay. But, Ryan, are you all right?”

“I’ve been struggling. . . .”

“About what?”

“I finally have an answer. I’ve decided to abandon my priesthood.” He caressed my hand. “Spring Swallow, will you marry me?”

Before I could respond, he went on, his voice urgent. “Spring Swallow, please marry me. Then your baby will have a father. I’ll love the child as my own.”

For a moment I was too stunned to respond.

He tilted my face to look into my eyes. “Spring Swallow, you haven’t answered. Will you marry me?”

“But I’ve already been married. Not just once, but three times!”

He seemed to ignore my declaration, but asked, “Do you not like me?” His smooth brows knitted.

“It’s not that, Ryan, I like you . . . a lot.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

This priest-to-be in front of me was so naïve. He just thought that if two people like each other, they’d get married and live happily ever after. How should I explain?

“Ryan, we really don’t know much about each other. . . .”

In fact, what I wanted to say was he had no idea who I was, what I’d
really
gone through. However, I believed I understood this foreigner.. . . He was like a clean, clear pond through which you can see everything straight to the bottom.

I said before he had a chance to respond, “Ryan, tell me more about yourself.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’ll tell you anything you want to know so you can decide if you want to be my wife.”

“Why did you decide to be a priest—no wife, no children. . . .”

“My brother is a businessman and my parents always wanted one of their children to be a priest. So I grew up thinking it was my calling to be celibate and serve God with all my heart and mind. When I was in seminary I found that I have an ability for languages and they needed missionaries for China. So here I am as a deacon. God brought me to Father Edwin’s church—but then he also brought me to you.”

“But what will you do?”

“Spring Swallow, as long as we pray to God, there is no problem that cannot be solved. . . .” He paused, then went on. “When I first saw you, my world changed. I fell in love with you completely. For a while I tried to suppress my feelings and stayed up late every night praying that God would restore my vocation. But He did not choose to do so. So I believe He has accepted my change to a secular life.”

He smiled dreamily. “Now I feel that God is blessing us.”

Feeling too embarrassed to look at him, I lowered my head. But my hand was still held in his.

Ryan said, his expression very tender, “Spring Swallow, you looked so fragile, vulnerable, and sad the first day I saw you, my heart just melted. I believed it was love at first sight. I’ve never experienced a feeling like this before.”

I looked and met his grayish blue eyes. “You’ve . . . never been in love?”

“No, before I met you, I only wanted to serve God. I still want to serve God, but I longer want to be celibate. So, Spring Swallow, will you marry me?”

It felt very strange to have a barbarian ask to marry me. But did it matter that he was a foreigner? I’d even been married to a ghost!

As I felt too embarrassed to say yes, Ryan leaned close to me and whispered. “Let’s go back to my room.”

“But, Ryan . . .”

It was the first time I saw him smile mischievously. “Don’t worry too much, Spring Swallow, everything will be fine. Don’t forget that we’re in God’s hands. I just know that He wants us to be together.”

It was the first time I’d been invited into Ryan’s room. The small space had several bookcases, a bed, and a wooden desk covered with more books and manuscripts. The walls were bare except for a rosary that hung above the desk and a wooden crucifix over the bed. After Ryan locked the door and took down the cross, I knew what would happen next.

Holding me tightly, he began to kiss me, very tenderly at first, then increasing in intensity. Had I fallen in love with this man? I was not a hundred percent sure, because Shen Feng still lingered on my mind. As I responded to Ryan’s growing kisses and caresses, disturbing thoughts whirred through my mind. Would Father Edwin object to our reunion? Was I a slut for letting Ryan, a foreigner, touch me? Was I just using Ryan to have a father for my child, as I had with Wenyi?

When Ryan finally released me, he gazed at me lovingly and asked, “Spring Swallow, do you love me?”

I nodded, for I did like him, very much. But I also felt guilty that I still thought about Shen Feng.

He looked very happy. “So, you’ll marry me and make me the happiest man on Earth?”

I looked at his glowing face and nodded again.

 

On that day, Ryan and I became lovers. The fact that our relationship developed so quickly made me feel uneasy. I was surprised that an aspiring priest who’d never been with a woman before could turn into such a passionate lover. It was obvious to me, if not to him, that he’d been starving for a woman’s love. After all, God’s love does not keep you warm at night.