The Concubine's Daughter (70 page)

Sing had descended the steps, but turned to look back at him, silent for a heartbeat. “If Hong Kong falls to the Japanese, then Britain and her allies will liberate it. If you do not believe this, then burn them if you wish. I think this is a risk you dare not take.”

Ching studied her, then turned to look across the expanse of Victoria Harbor. “Is there anything more to this bargaining of yours?”

“There are two other people involved. Both are murderers. The one who caused my mother’s cruel death was an elder brother, a
dai-lo
of the Yellow Dragon. He is known as Chiang-Wah.”

The dragon head’s face showed no change. “Chiang-Wah the Fierce is dead; he will trouble you no more. And the other?”

“The Forceful One, who licks your boots, is known to me since childhood. While he lives, my life and the lives of those I love will always be in danger. Warn him not to seek me.”

Ching stood to indicate the interview was at an end. “I will have my lawyers look at these papers. If they are as you say”—he smiled more pleasantly—“and even if they are not, the blood oath sworn between the House of Ching and the House of Devereaux will be at an end. Our fathers are already at peace in the afterlife. Let us do nothing more to disturb them.

“Ah-Keung is another matter,” Ching went on. “He fears no one, not even me. He obeys me while I pay him well … but I do not trust him. You must settle your score with him in your own way.”

S
ing hardly ever saw
Toby these days; he was working day and night as the Japanese moved ever closer to Hong Kong. She spent many hours with Angus learning the details of her business holdings, and started using the office above the godowns at Causeway Bay, where her mother had once checked the manifests and bills of lading from Double Dragon vessels. It was a small room with just enough space for a desk, wooden filing cabinets, two visitors’ chairs, and shelves overflowing with ledgers. She found sheaves of port clearance certificates bearing the chop of Li-Xia, Comprador.

There was a knock at the door of the office one afternoon. Before she could look up, a man opened it and said, “Forgive me for coming unannounced, but I did not think you would see me if I asked permission. You are so important now.” It was the voice of Ah-Keung.

He closed the door and seated himself before her, unbuttoning a black leather jacket. “The maker of pipes for the Japanese whoremonger has come a long way from the Emperor of Sausages, and the ballroom of old Moneybags Poon.”

“What do you want of me?” Sing asked calmly.

Ah-Keung gave her a slow, sly smile. “Do not worry, Little Star, I have not come to claim my share of your success. I wish only to return that which belongs to you.” From his neck he took the jade amulet of the crane and the tiger on its precious chain.

“I knew that you had lied, that it was not stolen by reed-cutters. They
were afraid to enter his presence in life; they would never do so in death.”

He spread his hands in a gesture of reason. “You were too young to wear it then. It was my duty to protect it for you.” He held the amulet out to her. “It is yours by right. You were his last disciple, not I.”

“I do not believe you,” she said coldly. “Why did you not return it in the Nine Dragons?”

“If you had spoken to me privately as I asked, I would have returned it then.” He shrugged. “But I have no wish to quarrel with you. Come, let us talk of our childhoods and remember the Place of Clear Water, where the old ones are at peace.”

He looked at her with a smirk that suddenly made her see beyond the amulet to other lies. “The Fish was a Tanka,” she said slowly. “She was born on the water. Like all boat people she knew the sea, the river, and the lake as one knows their own family. She was not one to drown in water no deeper than her belly.”

The satisfaction on Ah-Keung’s face did not change as Sing went on with a terrible certainty. “Master To was strong and knew the secrets of longevity. It was the contents of the gourd that killed him so easily. Do you deny this?”

His careful reply was mocking. “I kept many potions in many gourds when seeking and dispensing herbs. For years I found the ginseng that made his tea. Sometimes I combined the venom of
yan-jing-shi
with the midnight berry to sell to the doctor in the village. Is it possible that the gourds became mixed up?”

He spread his hands helplessly. “Could I have made such a terrible mistake? This is something we may never know. As for the old woman, her heart was too tired to chase the mud crab. She died as she was given breath, on the water. There was no other way.”

He shrugged again, then held the jade amulet up to the light from the window, its moss-green seams running like veins through its milky translucence. “See, does it not still hold the power of the crane and the wisdom of the sages?”

Ah-Keung leaned across the desk. “Allow me the honor of putting it
where it belongs. Is this so much to ask? Have I not returned that which the master bequeathed to you?”

The flash of instinct that told Sing to spring to her feet passed as quickly as it had shot through her. This was not the time or place.
Let him replace it, then he will go
, a voice inside her whispered.

She felt his hands lift her hair, gently, with a long, stroking motion, then his fingers fastened the chain. They dropped to her shoulders and for seconds held them firmly. Sing felt his power pass through her like a current as she lifted her head, compelling her to look into his eyes and beyond them into those of
yan-jing-shi
.

A knock on the door broke the spell. Swiftly as a shadow, Ah-Keung moved to the window as Angus stuck his head around the door. “Oh, excuse me, I thought you were alone.”

“It’s all right, Angus. We’ve finished our business. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” Angus hesitated, then withdrew.

Ah-Keung remained at the window, looking down at the crowded causeway, He seemed suddenly harmless, his ungainly frame slouching, the arrogant swagger gone. Sing felt a twinge of pity at the sight of his angular face, the bristling hair cropped close to his large skull. At this moment he was no longer the Forceful One, but the unwanted boy with the twisted foot, who had found his way to survive and face his tormentors.

“Is it not in your heart to forgive the mistakes of a broken boy?” he asked humbly.

“I bear you no malice,” she replied. “But we have chosen different ways. Let them remain apart.”

“I have paid for my pride. The taipan no longer needs my services,” he said tonelessly, “while you have found fortune and many friends. You are protected by the white-haired devil with the eyes of a pretty child; you may even have a child someday.”

He shook his head sadly. “I am forced to live behind the walls of Ling Nam, the city of the damned. It is there that you can find me.” He placed a folded slip of paper on the desk before her.

“Good-bye, Ah-Keung,” Sing said quietly. “It is time for you to leave.”

“Perhaps you are right,” he replied simply. “I have done what I came to do. But I think you will see me again, Little Star.” The door closed and he was gone.

Outside in the blazing sunlight Ah-Keung paused to wind several gleaming hairs from Sing’s head into a tight curl. It glittered, bright and alive as copper in the sun, as he folded it into a square of red cloth and put it carefully in the pocket of his leather jacket.

Behind the well-guarded gates of the Villa Formosa, Sing Devereaux contemplated what she must do. She had always known the crane would have to face the tiger one day, and she was not afraid. But never had she thought that any life but her own might be in danger. Now she could not forget the quiet threat in Ah-Keung’s words: “You have many friends; you may even have a child someday.”

The words of Master To returned to her as well:

The crane was content to live quietly in the marsh, to build its nest in the rushes and to dry its wings on the sandbar. But the tiger came seeking the crane in the reed bed and tried to destroy her. She was ready, and defeated her attacker through the power of her wings and the steel of her feet and the blade of her beak. It will always be like this. The crane must be constantly vigilant.
It was time for Sing to meet the destiny she had trained for on the Rock of Great Strength.

She sent a message asking Toby to come to the Villa Formosa as soon as he could be spared from his duties. They met in the Pavilion of Joyful Moments, where she tried to find the words that she must say. She took his hand. “There is something that I must tell you. I ask that you listen with your heart and do not question what I must do.”

She lifted his hand, to hold it against her cheek. “The gods could not have chosen one more gentle or of greater strength than you. But I must take a path that none can follow, to a place no one can share. My only hope is that I may soon return to you.”

His arms closed about her. “Then marry me, Sing … be my wife and let us take this path together, as Ben and his Li-Xia once did.”

“It is not possible. This is not the time for happiness.” There was no hesitation in her reply, and he knew it to be final. “If you would help me, please speak of this to Miss Bramble and to Angus. Thank them for their many kindnesses to me, but tell them I must complete a journey that was begun long ago.”

She reached up to him, her fingers in the sunshine of his hair. “There are things from my past that are beyond your help. I love you too much to speak of it, so you must trust me.” She took an envelope from the jadeite table; it was sealed with the chop of the Double Dragon. “I shall be gone for one hundred days. If I do not return by then, you must give this letter to Angus. He will know what to do.”

N
o road led to
Po-Lin, the Temple of the Precious Lotus. Built a thousand years ago on Lantau Island, it was among the largest Buddhist temples in Asia. Its grandeur had been added to over the centuries, changing it from a humble mountain shrine and burial ground to a monastery housing over a thousand monks. Upon its mist-shrouded peak, the Pagoda of the White Pearl was seldom visited even by the monks of Po-Lin. Only the abbot and his chosen priests could enter its forbidden chambers.

It had taken under two hours for Sing to cross the water on the ferry and climb the thousand steps leading to the monastery. A nun approached her, a small birdlike woman in a faded robe once the rich color of fresh saffron. The little nun bowed a welcome as though Sing were expected, then showed her to an antechamber outside the main temple.

Sing waited alone until Abbot Xoom-Sai entered the chamber assisted by two sturdy elders, who set him down upon a bench of stone. His head shaven, his body swathed in a robe of deepest purple, he looked at Sing with a smile of welcome on a timeless face, his eyes curious and benign.

Sing kowtowed before him, placing at his feet the bamboo cylinder containing the eight precious scrolls. The abbot’s face was in shadow as he unfolded the letter from Master To, inspecting the seal closely, running fingertips over the indented wax.

When at last he spoke, his words were for her alone, as though for that moment she was a child again, beneath the pear tree, listening to
the patient voice of Master To. “Stand up, Red Lotus: You are a true disciple of the White Crane. Your master, To-Tze, was well known to me; he passes on his powers with great faith in you. This letter tells me that you were the only one to be trusted with the Precious Set of Eight; that you would find me when the time had come for the Crane and the Tiger to face each other.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes closed as though in a trance. “You must prepare well. Your enemy is very angry and very strong; his power is in hatred and his weakness is in rage.”

He spoke as if he could see the scene unfolding before him. “First he will send
yan-jing-shi
, the snake… . In his heart he is a coward. Only if you prevail will the Tiger show himself.”

“I ask that I may be allowed to reside here while I prepare, Great Lord.”

“That you may do, Red Lotus. You will sleep in a place that is the battleground of the spirit. Your bed of stone will give no comfort, but you will find rest from the ninth hour until you are awakened by the voice of Buddha. The day begins at the hour of three, when the moon has reached its zenith, when body, spirit, and soul are open to all things. You will meditate alone, eat nothing except the food prepared for you by the nun Lu, drink nothing but water from the spring. You will train alone before the Pearl Pagoda. Call upon the spirit of the Crane and make ready to do battle with
yan-jing-shi
, who will come in the night.”