The Mystery of the Song Dynasty Painting (26 page)

‘Those were the days, weren’t they, when the three of us were growing up together and the future seemed limitless? Don’t you wish we can be children again, the way we used to be?’

‘I think of that time often. Yes! I wish we were children again. I’m scared of growing up… Don’t know how to grow up and don’t want to. I wish I could feel the way I used to feel in those days. Full of hope and optimism! To be able to shout out to the world with conviction, “
You he bu ke
?” (Is anything impossible?)!’

‘I can’t help wondering –’ Gege begins, when suddenly Nai Ma pushes open the door. She’s dressed in the thick padded jacket and black hemp trousers she reserves for travelling. She’s holding two oblong paper boxes and a dripping umbrella.

‘So this is where you are!’ she addresses me. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’

‘Where have
you
been in this horrible weather?’ I ask.

‘Little Chen comes from the same village as I do. Your Baba gave him permission to use the coach to go home and sweep his parents’ grave today. Little Chen was kind enough to give me a ride, so I went to visit my sister.’

‘Oh of course – today is the Qing Ming Festival!’ Gege exclaims. ‘I had forgotten.’

‘What’s in the boxes?’ I ask as Nai Ma opens her umbrella and sets it to drip on the porch.

‘I’ll come to that. Guess who was waiting when Little Chen drove back and turned into the road that leads to your Baba’s mansion?’

‘Tell us!’ Gege says.

‘It was Ah Zhao!’

When I hear his name, I feel a spasm in my throat.

‘How is he?’ I ask, trying to sound casual.

‘He looked thin and tired.’

‘How did he know you were in the coach?’ Gege asks.

‘He didn’t. He recognized the coach and stopped it. He was expecting to see your Baba, and was surprised to see me instead.’

‘Why didn’t he come in?’ Gege asks.

‘He didn’t want to.’

‘What did he say?’ I ask, feeling my heart flip-flopping in my chest.

‘He asked after the two of you. I told him of Gege’s success at court. Then he asked whether you, Little Sister, were married and I said no.’

‘What is he doing?’

‘He didn’t tell me, only that life has not been easy. He has a present for each of you.’

‘A present!’ Gege says. ‘So that’s what you’re carrying.’

‘Yes – Ah Zhao says each present comes with its own message, and you’ll know what the message is. The heavier box is for you, Young Master.’

Gege opens his box and takes out a long, narrow hand-scroll. He lays it on the table and gradually unrolls it from right to left. The magnificent panorama of the Bian riverbank slowly appears before our eyes. There it is again, exactly as it was on Qing Ming, three years ago: the fields, crop-farms and narrow country lanes just outside our home; the market stalls close to the city proper; the Rainbow Bridge thronged with spectators gawking at the vessel below; the colourful boats docked along both sides of the river; the splendid city gate with its awe-inspiring flying eaves; the hotels, temples, residences and mansions sparkling under the cloudless sky.

The three of us look with awe at the painting for what seems like an eternity. I’m back there again on that golden afternoon, eating noodles in the teahouse, admiring merchandise in the stalls, rambling along the shore among the trees and fields, wriggling my toes in the cool, clear water. Yes! Ah Zhao has captured everything! It’s exactly the way it was ‘along the river at Qing Ming’. Every time I think I’ve had enough, I notice something new to stir my imagination and need to look all over again.

‘Do you know what message Ah Zhao is sending you?’ Nai Ma suddenly asks.

‘Yes, of course!’ Gege says without hesitation, and I nod agreement.

‘What? I don’t get it.’ Nai Ma is puzzled.

‘Ah Zhao has just given me what I want more than anything in the world: the Directorship of the Royal Academy of Art!’

‘In this roll of silk?’

‘Yes! All wrapped up in this roll of silk! Show Nai Ma the seal mark, Gege!’ I exclaim.

Gege unrolls the scroll to the very end and points to the circular, red chop mark bearing the name of the artist.

We see Gege’s name staring back at us:

(Zhang Ze Duan)

‘Wah! This long scroll must have taken Ah Zhao at least a year to paint! And he puts
your
name on it! How generous!’ Nai Ma is impressed. ‘I’m curious to see what Ah Zhao has given you, Little Sister!’

My hands are trembling as I prepare to open my present. On the lid of the box are three words, beautifully written in his distinctive calligraphy. No, not my name. The words are:

(Please be careful)

What is he saying? Why is he warning me to be careful? Is there a ghost hiding in the box? What will I find when I open it?

Inside is a black-and-white silk painting, much shorter than the other one and square-shaped. I unroll it and flatten it on the table, but I have trouble making out what I’m seeing. Gradually, the lines and shadows clarify themselves and I see the silhouette of Ah Zhao’s prominent nose superimposed on my crippled foot.

‘My old eyes can’t understand this painting,’ Nai Ma complains. ‘It looks like a big ink blot that’s out of focus.’

‘It’s his self-portrait, isn’t it?’ Gege asks me shrewdly. ‘Big Nose!’

I shrug my shoulders and say nothing. I’m in turmoil. My heart is pounding and blood rushes to my temples. I hear a poem:

I’m Big Nose!

Who are you?

Are you Bad Foot?

Then we’re a pair.

Don’t say anything.

They’ll punish us

For you being me

And me being you.

‘In my humble opinion, Gege’s Qing Ming painting is much prettier than this weird one!’ Nai Ma pronounces as she positions my painting next to Gege’s for comparison. ‘Look at the detail and fine lines in Gege’s, with the people, boats, animals, buildings, vehicles, sedan chairs and trees all in perfect proportion! One wrong move with his brush and this entire scroll of ink-on-silk painting would have been ruined! No second chance! Now look at Little Sister’s painting, where the ink appears to have been thrown onto the silk any old how! The only beautiful thing here is the calligraphy on the lid of the box! Even I can see that. Did Ah Zhao write these three characters himself, do you think?’

‘Probably! Ah Zhao can do anything he sets his mind to,’ Gege says, turning to me. ‘Nai Ma has a point, though, don’t you think? The painting he gave you
does
look sort of strange. In fact, it looks unfinished. What’s his message to you, Little Sister?’

‘I’m asking myself the same question.’

19

Flight

But of course I understood Ah Zhao’s message. He couldn’t have said it more clearly if he’d come in and announced it. However, a small voice inside warns me to guard the knowledge to myself. For once, I manage to keep quiet.

Perhaps it’s the three words ‘
Please be careful
’ that he wrote on the lid, as if there’s something precious, fragile and breakable within the box; something to be treasured and protected at all cost.

The rest of the evening seems endless as I pretend that nothing has changed. Gege wants Nai Ma and me to keep on looking at his newly acquired painting, pointing out a thousand and one different details for us to admire. He repeats over and over how pleased the Emperor is going to be with him, as if he already believes the work to be his own.

After an interminable time, Nai Ma says she’s exhausted, and retires for the night. Gege goes on and on praising his painting, even though I say hardly a word because I can’t wait for him to leave.

When Gege finally goes to bed and I’m left alone at last, I sit and stare at Ah Zhao’s gift to me.

‘Am I right about your message?’ I ask as I study his haunting profile overlaid on my broken toes. ‘Your painting makes me feel less alone,’ I tell him. ‘Are you saying we belong to one another?’

In one sense, Nai Ma and Gege are both correct: what a weird picture! But if you look at it from a different perspective, this double image becomes a pictorial metaphor, a symbol to express Ah Zhao’s personal longing and dilemma.

It looks unfinished, Gege has said. Ah! That’s because the friendship between Ah Zhao and me is not finished. The three words ‘
It is finished!
’ will never be said of us.

Instead of
weird
, this picture is brilliant, original and profound, I tell Nai Ma silently. Ah Zhao is representing his perceptions by a radically different and unconventional method. He is expressing his feelings and fears, instead of merely copying what his eyes perceive at any particular moment. He has explored the corridors of his mind and juxtaposed the image of my crippled foot with the shadow of his face, combining our separate vulnerabilities within a single framework. Along with his gift is a warning and a query: ‘
!’ (Please be careful!) and ‘Are you prepared to face the world with me at your side?’

‘You are a genius, Ah Zhao!’ I say to his portrait.

Genius he may be, but I need to make some important decisions. Am I to run away with him tonight?

Outside, the rain continues to cascade down torrentially. I roll up the painting and put it back in its box with the three words ‘
Please be careful
’ on its lid. Why is he warning me? Is he waiting for me right now, as promised? In the pouring rain?

‘
Whatever happens, I’ll wait for you at our ravine, on or before the Qing Ming Festival, in three years’ time.
’

That’s what he said, three years ago, when he left. Does he remember?

Thin and tired.
That’s how Nai Ma described him. I long to see him, but I need to think a while longer. Why? For the same reason he wrote his message on the lid of the box: ‘
Please be careful.
’

Why did he write those words? What is he saying? Am I to be careful because the consequences of our meeting will be momentous and irrevocable? Or is it the other way round? And he is warning me not to expect too much?

What he doesn’t know yet is that my heart is tied to him as a boat is to its rudder. My childhood is over, and there’s nothing here for me any more. I’m prepared to pay any price to go wherever Ah Zhao wishes to take me.

The sounds of the household gradually die down as I creep back into my bedroom. Nai Ma is snoring loudly behind her curtain. Years of experience tell me that she won’t wake. It feels strange to think that this might be the last time I’ll be with her, but I have no regrets. She would like me to marry a rich man and bear children for her to look after. But she’ll never approve of Ah Zhao as my husband, let alone accept him as her master.

Slowly and quietly, I pack some clothes and Ah Zhao’s painting into a linen bag. I look at my books, regretfully… they’re too heavy for me to carry. But I take my notebook, ink-stick and writing brushes.

The jewels left to me by my dead Mama are concealed in a small silk pouch beneath a pile of clean underwear. I tie the pouch to my belt and make it part of my costume, underneath my padded, silk-cotton cloak. Mama’s legacy consists of two pairs of gold earrings, a fabulous pearl pendant, a gemstone bracelet, three jewelled combs, and an imperial jade hairpin with a stem as thin as hair.