Heaven's Warrior
Chapter 1
Qiu Meilin – Sisters
Kin blood binds
Strong and deep
Bonds e’er weep
Bonds e’er keep.
- Private Journal of Qiu Meilin
The fragrance of soaked wood from last night’s rain weighs heavy in the air as my seventeen-year-old sister and I plod through the predawn darkness of Gudai forest. We push through thick hanging vines, giant ferns, and drooping moss of the ancient woods on our way to the shrine gardens for morning exercises.
Our hour journey through Gudai takes twice as long as the normal road to Tiānqì Shen’s shrine, but I convinced Lian that with the rain it’d be the perfect chance to collect Shen Breath on our way. She rolled her eyes, but I saw a hint of a smile through her never-ending face of sadness. It was the closest to a smile I’ve seen on her face since before the news of Cai’s death.
As we step over a xudupede infested, rotted log, I break the silence, “Lian, remember when we were little, how we would collect Shen Breath the morning after every midnight rain?”
As sullen as ever, Lian pushes hanging ivy off the brim of her bamboo hat and away from her face, pretending not to hear. She’s as stubborn as an eel. It’s been over a month now and she still not only mourns, but acts as if it’s her fault that Cai died. I feel bad for her, but no one’s to blame except for the Lord Emperor and his Xie cursed war.
I try again. “We’d race to fill up as many paper lanterns as we could with the colored mist. And of course, I’d always win, because you were too busy staring at golden jays and black squirrels.”
Lian sidesteps a small mud pit, but doesn’t even give me an eyeroll. Two’s mercy! All I want to do is cheer her up. Well, that’s not entirely true. What I really want, is to save her life.
“Father would hang the rainbow swirling lanterns at the edge of the growing fields in hopes that the Shen Breath’s Chi would enhance their crops’ growth, or at least invite the Two’s blessings. For our work, Father would pay us a copper Zhu for each lantern.” Then I tease, “Didn’t you buy a broken pipa with your Zhu’s?”
Lian doesn’t react. She steps through a clump of ferns as if I’m not even here. Talk to me Lian! Don’t be so goat-headed!
I laugh. “You were so jealous of the clay fish hawk I bought. Too bad you could never collect enough Shen Breath to afford your own figurine.”
Lian stops, turns to face me, and clenches the back of her gray tunic the way she always does when trying to hold her temper. “You cheated,” she says, her voice smooth and emotionless.
I widen my eyes in mock surprise. “Me? I would never cheat.”
She clenches her tunic tighter, and her lips tighten. “You would and you did,” she says, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. “Whenever a patch of the colored mists would swirl up, you’d distract me.”
I hold back a grin and mock innocence. “Distract you? How could I ever distract Little Lady Serious?”
“You know how!” her voice agitated, and then mocking me, continues,” Oh, look Lian, a scarlet thrush! Oh, there’s a shrill rat! Watch out! I think I saw a Pang Bear.”
Feigning hurt, I say. “That’s not cheating. That’s looking out for my older sister. I know how you love to study everything in sight.”
She stomps a foot. “Exactly! You knew that would distract me and give you the chance to capture as much Shen Breath as you could before I noticed. Tell me that’s not cheating.”
I grin. “It’s not. It’s called using my resources.”
She clenches the back of her tunic so hard I think she’s going to rip it in half. Her eyes bulge. Her checks puff out red. She wants to scream. I know she does. Scream Lian! Let it out! Let it all out!
But she doesn’t. In a blink her face transforms into complete serenity. That’s Lian. Always in control. Always keeping her feelings in. But I have the advantage. I never give up.
I put on my most guilt-ridden, penitent face, and confess remorse, “You’re right. That was cheating. Can you ever forgive me?”
Lian’s serene expression wavers and then gives into an eyeroll. I’ve got her.
In a somber tone, I continue, “To make it up to you, I’ll give you my fish hawk figurine.” And then all grins, I add, “Only the beak and one of its wings are broken. Other than that, it’s in perfect shape.”
I giggle and Lian twitches, clenches, and then can’t hold back any longer. Her eyes light up and laughter rolls past her lips. “Oh, Meilin, you’re the worst sixteen-year-old sister in the world!”
I beam. “Thanks! And I love you too!”
We laugh, hug, and even shed a few tears. When the laughter settles and the tears recede, beams of morning sun stretch their way through gaps in Gudai’s canopy and touches droplets of water clinging to leaves and pools on the ground.
We stop, wait, and watch. Every school child knows that Shen Breath mists only comes to life when morning light touches the remnants of midnight rain in places where all five elements reside.
Our eyes widen as the droplets begin to pulse and glow like liquid gold. The water drops pulse faster and faster, then begin to spin. At once, the droplets blossoms into one hundred different tints and shades of colored mist that swirl upward like a grand fireworks show. The glorious display entrances us, causing us to forget to scoop swaths of Shen Breath into our paper lanterns.
After several minutes, most of the Shen Breath vanishes, leaving our eyes and lips grinning wide. We sit in silence for another minute, but then rise and hurry onward through Gudai toward the shrine. Lian won’t want to risk being late to morning exercises.
We reach the forest’s edge before the sun rises above the trees. Crouching in the cover of a clump of wisteria, we overlook a meadow of bright blue poppies sloping down toward the shrine gardens. A low white stone wall surrounds the shrine gardens with its stone paths and sparkling streams. Waning colored remnants of Shen Breath swirl among a few flowers and trees on both sides of the garden wall.
Elegantly ordered in precise sections, the dwarf forests of gnarled pines, bamboo groves, ficus, ancient willows, flowering plums, and vivid flower gardens create a varying medley of deep and bright colors. From this height it’s easy to see the intricate stroke designs created by the cobblestone paths, footbridges, and winding streams as they cut through the different shades and tints. In homage to the weather goddess herself, they form the two-character symbols of her name – a bird rising up to heaven for Tiān and streams of rising mist for Qì.
In the center of the garden near a sparkling Koi pond, the shrine pavilion of Tiānqì Shen overlooks the gardens atop a grassy knoll. The shrine’s green wing-tipped tile roof gleams with the sun’s reflection. Framed with ornate rosewood crossbeams and posts, the shrine rises just above the bright pink blossoms of eight ancient peach trees. The trees circle the shrine like adoring supplicants, their blossoms fluttering in the breeze as if whispering prayers to their cherished goddess.
Not far from the shrine, Ning villagers have already started to gather on the exercise lawn. Lian crouches to jump down from the wall into the gardens. I grab her elbow and pull her back.
“Wait, Lian. We need to talk first.”
Lian turns to me, curious, but anxious to get to morning exercises.
“We can’t go,” I say. “We need to hide in Gudai and run as far away from Ning valley as we can.”
Curiosity turns to perplexion. “Meilin, what are you talking about. We can’t abandon Mother and Father. They need us.”
I want to correct her. Mother needs us. Father cares nothing for me, his delinquent daughter. But I hold my tongue, knowing how Father coddles Lian, his favorite and perfect daughter. I can’t disagree. Lian is pretty perfect. But this has nothing to do with Father and Mother. Lian’s life is at stake, and she doesn’t even know it. Will she believe me?
I cringe, as a monkey screeches nearby, sounding too much like the golden dragon in my nightmares. The cry of a lone thrush echoes in my ears like Lian’s screams for help. The garden’s babbling brooks remind me of the bubbling pools of blood rising up to engulf Lian. True dreams rarely play out in literal fashion, but this I know—Lian is in danger if she stays another night in Ning.
“Lian you’re not safe here. I had a dream and…”
Lian cuts me off, her eyes like ice. “No! I will not desert Father and Mother. Whatever evil fate the Two have for me, I willingly embrace.”
Her words silence me. She knows she’s in danger. How can she know? Did she have a dream too? And why embrace it? I want to pound my head and shout to myself, “You witless fool!” The normal Lian wouldn’t do this It’s because of Cai. For some reason, she blames herself for his dying at the hands of Huyan’s enemies. Rather, the enemies of Lord Emperor Xiang Hu, Chosen of Heaven.
I rebuke her. “The Two offer only gifts of love. This evil does not come from them. They want you to flee it. Why else would they send me this dream?”
Serenity once again holds Lian’s expression. “Yes, the Two love us. That’s why they sent you this dream. So, you would not despair the day it comes true. So, you would know that all will be as it should be.”
“No!” I shout, but Lian has already broken free of my grip, jumped down from the wall, and sprinted toward the exercise lawn.
I have no choice but to follow her, bracing myself for the pain and risk of my own death that my backup plan will likely require. I join the other villagers on the garden’s practice lawn, taking a place near Lian in one of the evenly spaced ordered rows in front of Master Wang Jin. Compared to our drab gray tunics and trousers, he stands out with his lavish, bright green priest robes.
He smiles and winks at me, a teasing gesture that says, “Meilin, you’re late again, but I’m glad you’re here.”
I smile and wink back. I like and respect Master Jin. Too bad I can’t say the same for most of the other men in Ning valley. He respects and honors women as the Two would desire, never demeaning them as the Lord Emperor’s code of Innate Honor too often requires. Not that he would outright defy Lord Emperor Xiang Hu, Chosen of Heaven, but by employing his wisdom and position as the shrine’s priest he deftly navigates Innate Honor in a way that shows his respect for all women, even the most rebellious like me.
In near-perfect unison, the villagers and I follow Master Jin through a series of Fei Chi forms from Wind Bends the Willow to Fold the Dragon’s Wings. When we complete the last form, we steeple our hands in front of our faces and give Master Jin. a deep reverent bow. He returns a slight nod to formally signal the end of the exercise.
Magistrate Pang Yan’s interpretation of Innate Honor requires women and children to hold their bows as the men step from their ordered ranks and put on their sandals and wide brim bamboo hats. This results in the men laughing and talking among each other as their wives and children remain still as statues. According to Magistrate Pang, the women and children must not release their bowed postures until the last man dons his hat and sandals, and leaves the exercise lawn with the others.
So, when I release my bow and stand up straight before the men leave the exercise lawn, the women gasp. Lian stares at me with daggers that shout, “What are you doing Meilin?”
The men shout “Xie spawn!” “Worm!” “Kaioda!” “Betrayer!”
I keep my gaze from them, fearful that Father will be among those cursing me. Master Jin frowns—not because he feels disrespected, but because he knows what will soon happen to me.
Dressed in his blue silk robe, green sash, and winged black hat, Magistrate Pang marches onto the exercise lawn, silencing the curses and chatter. The women and girls hold their statuesque bowing poses. The men return to donning theirs hats and sandals. No one dares look at me but Master Jin and Magistrate Pang—the first with a sorrowful frown and the last with the scowl of a Beifang Cat.
“Kneel!” Pang hisses with his sneering lips. I stand up straighter, locking my defiant eyes with his. He grins wickedly, showing how much he plans to enjoy this. He removes the bamboo thrashing rod hanging from his robes, steps behind me, and raises the rod to strike.
“No!” Lian shouts, still bowing in perfect form. “It’s my fault she released her bow. Strike me, not her.”
I can’t see Pang’s face, but I sense him considering what to do. Though she secretly despises Innate Honor, Lian devoutly obeys its tenets. I shake my head, helping Pang to decide to spare his model citizen and thrash me—the village rebel—as planned?
Whack! Stinging pain lashes below my shoulder blades. I wince, but keep myself from stumbling. I straighten my shoulders and brace for the next blow. Whack! Whack! Whack!
I grin through the tears that I can’t hold back. The sting of each lash deepens. “No!” Lian screams again, putting herself in danger of the thrashing rod. Pang ignores her, exulting in thrashing me.
On the tenth stinging lash, I fall to my knees, my willpower no match for the slashing agony that rips open lines of blood across my back. By the fifteenth lash, I writhe on the ground, trying hard not to squeal or moan, My body shakes and trembles at the incessant stabs and throbs of pain.
When Pang raises his rod for the sixteenth lash, Master Jin shouts, “Enough! That is enough of your cruel justice for the day.”
Pang still holds his thrashing rod high, but pauses with an intense glare at Master Jin. “Innate Honor demands twenty lashes and a day in the pain yoke for her crimes. You dare defy the emperor’s law.”
Master Jin steps between me and Pang. “I defy only you and your vile interpretation of the law.”
The tension increases, but I’m happy for the pause in the beating. Pang continues with venom in his tone, “I am Ning’s Magistrate. I am the law here.”
Master Jin laughs. “Yes, you are Ning’s magistrate, but this is not Ning. These are the sacred grounds of Tiānqì Shen. I am her priest and the master in this place. I do not agree with what you have done this day, but I have allowed it in respect to the emperor. The lashings stop now, or by the Two I will appeal to the emperor to have you stripped of all authority and imprisoned in the deepest prison cesspools.”
Silence hangs between them for several heartbeats until Pang relents. “Fine. The lashing stops. But she will still receive a day and night in the pain yoke. And I will not forget your defiance this day.”
“Nor will I forget your cruel ignorance,” Master Jin responds.
Both retreat from each other, but almost instantly the provincial guard in his jade-colored uniform clamps the large square, pain yoke around my neck and shackles my ankles. In my weakened state, I can’t move under the yoke’s weight. But the worst of the yoke’s punishment are the collar’s needles that poke and prick my neck with the slightest of movements.
After a few minutes, I feel a tinge of relief as a cold wet rag gingerly washes across the wounds on my back.
“Why, my willful little duck?” Lian whispers close to my ear. “You should not have done this. I love you, but I cannot protect you when you behave so.”
I smile on the inside. “Oh, Lian. You will see. I do this to protect you, since you will do nothing to protect yourself.”
Lian stays with me while the men, women, and children head back to Ning valley for their day’s chores. I can feel the guard’s eyes on us, making sure Lian doesn’t secretly give me food. Starvation is an added punishment of the yoke. Its big square shape makes it near impossible for your hands to reach your mouth to feed yourself. And it’s the provincial guard’s duty to keep anyone from feeding me.
“Time for you to leave, missy,” the guard orders Lian.
“Please, let me stay with her longer,” Lian pleads.
The guard grins in amusement. “Now why would I do that? She defied Innate Honor. Get or I’ll thrash her even more myself.”
Lian lowers her head in respect. “My apologies, sir. I will go, but please, harm her no further.”
Then, before leaving, she turns to me, “Sorry, Meilin. I wish I could do more. May the Two watch over you.”
I grin through the pain. “All will be well,” I mumble. “This is my fault, not yours.”
The last part is a clear lie. I wouldn’t have had to resort to this, if Lian had agreed to run away. But she doesn’t need to know that. Neither does she need to know the next step in my plan. If she did, she might thrash me herself.
Chapter 2
Qiu Meilin – Defying Deity
Like heaven’s breath, mists swirl and rise.
Spring chill silences deep woods cries.
Rays of dawn dance down leaf and limb.
Scorned prayers whispered pierce the skies.
- Private Journal of Qiu Meilin
The day passes painfully slow. The enforced fasting adds to the torture. I wait and wait for the provincial guard to leave his post on the shrine’s step for his daily nap in the pear orchard, but he never goes. Why did he have to choose today to be vigilant? Perhaps, he’s afraid the pain yoke and shackle around my ankles aren’t enough to keep me from wandering off. If so, he has more wits than I gave him credit for.
When the night guard arrives to take his place, the vigilance continues. What happened to the guards’ reputation of being laxed and lazy? Now, even if the new guard decides to take a break, I might not have the strength to carry out my plan. Did I purposely let myself get thrashed fifteen times with the rod for nothing?
Near midnight, a torrential rain pelts my face and numbs my fingers and toes unmercifully with its chilling drops. Two’s mercy though, it sends the guard running for cover in one of the garden pavilions.
In spite of the sixteen years of tales that Mama told me of the Two and their divine children, the Shen, I have never had much faith in those gods and goddesses, nor any other supposed deity. Although, I lack Mama’s faith in the Shen, I’m desperate enough to believe that a blessing from the goddess, Tiānqì Shen, is my only hope—rather, Lian’s only hope.
So, gathering all my strength, I fight to my feet under the yoke’s weight. My peasant gray tunic and trousers are soaked even though the pain yoke shields my body from most of the downpour. I press forward, determined to reach the shrine of Tiānqì Shen, goddess of weather. Every step brings a prick or stab from the yoke’s sharp needles. I try to smile even though the chained shackles around my ankles cause me to stumble every few steps, jolting me with more piercing pain.
I refuse to be miserable. Gales and hails, but smiling would be easier if the back spasms and throbbing from the beating Magistrate Pang gave me would let up. I force my smile wider at another pinprick of pain at my neck. Okay, maybe I am miserable. But it’s a happy miserable. If it weren’t for the near-constant wincing, I’d be all smiles. I try to convince myself that things couldn’t have worked out better if I had planned it. Pang’s punishment has given me the needed excuse to be outside after women’s curfew and in the shrine gardens after dark.
The pouring rain drowns out the rattling of my chains across the stone path as I hobble through the garden toward the shrine. Master Jin should be sleeping in his cozy cottage near the garden ponds. And hopefully, the guard is asleep and snoring louder than thunder. If he wakes and finds me in the shrine, I’ll face immediate execution. The emperor’s mandate of Innate Honor forbids all women from entering any holy shrine within Huyan’s borders. I don’t know if it’s because Lord Emperor Xiang Hu, Chosen of Heaven doesn’t believe women are worthy of Shen blessings or if he thinks girls and women should only pray to him. It doesn’t matter. I care little for what the three-hundred-year-old Lord Emperor thinks. But tonight, my feelings for the Shen is a bit different.
As I hobble up the shrine’s step, lightning flashes and thunder booms. I hope it isn’t the weather goddess warning me to stay out of her shrine.
I smile. “Everything will be fine,” I tell myself. “Nothing to worry about.”
I try to hurry my pace up the steps, but stumble. Needle pricks stab my neck. I wince at the pain as I rise and continue upward. I grin through the stings and aches when I finally reach the top. Lit by gold and red-papered lanterns hanging from the shrine’s crossbeams, plump granite statutes of the Two greet me with their wide smiles – the first Mother on the right and first Father on the left. I bow to each one, trying hard not to topple over from the weight of the pain yoke.
After I hobble pass the Two, I ignore the scowls of the golden dragons painted on the pavilion’s rosewood posts and crossbeams. My skin tingles as I step inside the shrine. Hanging from the walls and lining the floors, nearly clear, white-papered lanterns glow with swirling streams of rainbow-colored mist inside each one— Shen Breath.
My feet chill and my chains rattle as I step on the porcelain tiles leading to the shrine altar, each tile decorated in geometric patterns representing different stages of weather. More paper lanterns glowing with Shen Breath line each side of the aisle floor. Behind the lanterns, paintings hang on the walls depicting scenes of the Two and some of their children, including several paintings of Tiānqì Shen wielding her gifts of lightning, rain, wind, hail, or sunshine to bless or curse the people of Dashi.
At the end of the shrine aisle stands a magnificent gold statue of the beautifully plump Tiānqì Shen. A headdress inlaid with tendrils of the sun sits upon her head. A fierce wind billows through her royal robes and blasts her long locks in whipping waves behind her. Like glistening pearls, a string of raindrops hangs from her neck. Bracelets formed of clouds swirl around her wrists. Sharp icicles dangle from the fingertips of her downturned left hand while she holds a lightning bolt in her right.
When I come within three paces of her statue, I struggle to my knees and try to kowtow in respect. The pain yoke keeps me from being able to touch my forehead to the floor, but I hope Tiānqì Shen accepts my efforts as I bow as deep as I can three times. Slowly, I rise, hobble another step, kneel, and kowtow three more times. Once more I rise, hobble toward the statue, kneel, and kowtow three last times.
Stilled bowed, I pull eight hazelnuts and five peapods from my trouser pocket. They were supposed to be my morning breakfast. Thank the Two for the forced fast. Otherwise, what sacrifice would I have to offer Tiānqì Shen?
I rub my thumb over the nuts and peapods, hesitating to place them on the elaborate rosewood altar tray in front of the weather goddess’ statue. The tightening in my stomach reminds me that there are still several hours till morning when I will finally be free of the pain yoke. Maybe I could toss one or two the nuts into my mouth. Tiānqì Shen wouldn’t mind.
The words Mama rehearsed to me many times after my complaints about household chores come unbidden to my lips. “No sacrifice requires no pain. The best gifts blossom from the soil and toil of hardship.”
I sigh as I somehow manage to place the nuts and peas on the tray. My stomach hurts even more at them. I try to smile. This is a good thing. Lian needs the best gift that Tiānqì Shen can offer.
I make a fist with my left hand, cover it with my right hand to make a fist in hand salute. I press my fists against my chest as I close my eyes. What do I say to Tiānqì Shen? I’ve never offered a formal prayer to any of the Shen before. My thoughts focus on the unknown danger that threatens Lian and these simple words roll from my tongue.
“Oh, great Tiānqì Shen, Lian needs your help, but she cannot come to you. Law forbids it. It forbids me too, but I had to come. I have to help her somehow if I can. I don’t know if you are real, but by the Two, if you are, I will do all I can to save her if you will help me. This is the gift that I ask. All thanks to you and the Two.”
I open my eyes and raise my head. I’m not sure what I expected, but nothing happens. No blinding lights. No shaking of the earth. No godly voice thundering, “Lian is now safe!” Nothing happens. The dreams of the past nights continue to prickle the back of my thoughts, telling me Lian is still in danger.
Discouragement grips my chest, squeezing and suffocating any hope that I might have had for the goddess’ help. With slow effort I rise to my feet and turn my back to Tiānqì Shen. I’m on my own.
My eyes lowered, I hobble back across the porcelain tiles, but stop halfway from the pavilion opening when my eyes fall upon the Shen Breath lanterns at my sides. Their colored mists glow much brighter than before and their tendrils seem to stretch and pull as if reaching out for me.
I crouch beside one to examine it more closely. The mists glow brighter. The tendrils stretch, and then push flat against the side of the lantern, bulging outward toward me. A soft “wooo” trills from within the lantern. I push my face closer and the trilling sings stronger, rising and falling in a beautiful melody.
A loud crash from behind startles me. Ignoring the fact that the sound came from the back of the pavilion, my first thought is that the shrine guard woke from wherever in the gardens he was slumbering and has now discovered me. Moving much too fast for my shackles and stepping on a wet spot on the tile as I try to turn in that direction, I crash toward the floor. Trying to regain my balance, my legs kick and my arms flail. But all I manage to do is to smash several of the Shen Breath lanterns that line the aisle.
“Gales and hails!” I curse. The Shen Breath starts to break free of the lanterns. If the soldier doesn’t figure out I was here, surely Master Jin or the Magistrate will.
A laughing squeal turns my attention toward the statue of Tiānqì Shen. Snubby. Master Jin’s favorite golden snub-nosed monkey dances in front of the upturned altar tray. I can’t help but grin at the monkey and his mischievous smile, that is until I see that he’s clutching my hazelnuts in one hand and stuffing his mouth with my peapods in the other.
“By the Two I’ll…” I slam my mouth closed before I can finish cursing Snubby. My eyes shift to the broken lanterns and Shen Breath at my feet. Instead of rising high in the air like escaped Shen Breath often does, its brilliant glowing swirls circle around me like glowing hurricanes of colors. What is happening?
My skin tingles as the glowing mists course beneath my clothes and wrap my whole body in warmth. The tendrils dance upon my skin, searching and pushing their way into the pores of my flesh. The trill of the Shen Breath song thunders in my ears. My hands and feet glow brighter and brighter. I imagine my whole body is glowing.
I should be terrified, but the warmth and energy flowing within me is exhilarating. Beneath my skin, my insides burn with fire, but it’s a soothing fire.
When every trace of mist has vanished, I stop glowing. The fire beneath my skin stops burning. The song of the Shen Breath stops singing. My exhaustion is gone. The throbbing in my back and pin pricks of pain around my neck have vanished. Except for the broken lanterns at my feet and Snubby laughing at me in front of the upturned altar tray, everything is back to normal.
That’s when I realize the pounding rain no longer drums on the roof above me. How long has it been silent? Coming from outside the shrine, I hear the guttural sound of what can only be the shrine guard clearing his throat of mucus and spit. Snubby bounces up and down, screeching and laughing at me. It doesn’t matter that the monkey can’t talk. I know exactly what he’s trying to say. “Ha, ha, I ate your food and now you’re going to die.”
Chapter 3
Qiu Meilin – Life for a Life
"Midnight rain and morning sun are not sufficient. The requirement to have all five elements in close proximity is why the Shen Breath transformation only occurs in certain fields and forest areas."
- Hidden Scrolls of Quingping: Study in the aspects of Shen Breath
Chattering and squealing with delight, Snubby picks up the altar tray and starts banging it on the floor’s porcelain tiles. Relax. No need to worry. He’ll stop. Snubby’s a good monkey. A nice monkey. Right?
Snubby doesn’t stop.
“Please hush,” I whisper, trying to sound as pleasant as I can. “The guard will hear and that will be trouble for both of us.”
Snubby doesn’t hush. He screeches louder. He bangs the tray harder on the floor. Maybe the guard won’t hear. Maybe he went back to sleep.
“Flaming pits of Kaioda!” The guard’s cursing sounds clearly from outside the shrine. “By the Two, if that monkey’s messed things again, I’ll skin him.”
Heavy footfalls move upward on the steps outside the shrine. The guard is coming, and I have nowhere to go. My ankle chains rattle and the pain yoke needles prick my neck as I rise to my feet. With hopeful eyes, I look to Snubby as if he might somehow be able to help me escape. He wags his head and chatters at me.
“Stupid girl. Stupid girl,” he seems to say.
I smile back, trying hard to remind myself that the orange ball of fur is really a nice monkey no matter how much I want to strangle him right now.
“Be a sweet boy,” I say softly. “Help me escape and I promise I’ll get you more hazelnuts. Okay?”
Snubby throws the tray on the ground, but grins wide, dancing up and down.
“Maybe if you run outside, the guard will chase you,” I say. “You’re so fast he won’t be able to catch you. But while he’s trying, I can sneak out without him seeing me? What do you think?”
I can’t believe I’m talking to a monkey, but the snub nose looks at me as if he understood every word I said. Then, he begins to squeal with laughter as I if I just said the most witless thing he has ever heard. The soldier’s lumbering footsteps draw closer to the top of the shrine steps. I have to do something.
“Please, Snubby. I need your help.”
Snubby grins, turns around, scurries between a small gap in the wall and the statue of Tiānqì Shen, and disappears behind the statue.
“Wait! Come back!” I want to yell, but the guard will hear me, and I know Snubby won’t come back. So, I pick my chains up off the floor so they won’t rattle and hobble as fast as I can to the gap between the wall and statue. The gap is narrow, but I’m slim and if I tilt my head forward the edges of the pain yoke dip down enough for me to squeeze through. As I do, my lips tighten, forcing back a squeal of pain. The forward weight of the pain yoke pulls the collar needles deep into the back of my neck. I hold my breath, fighting cries of pain as I barely make it through the narrow gap.
Relief comes and breath returns when I’m finally able to raise my head in the cramped space behind the statue. There’s no sign of Snubby. Eyelevel, on the back wall is an open window that looks out into the darkness of the garden. Snubby’s escape route.
“Snub-rat! Where’d you go?” sounds from the other side of the statue. “You better hope Master Jin doesn’t make me clean this mess.”
I hold as still as I can with a smile of gratitude on my lips. The plumpness of Tiānqì Shen’s statue conceals me and my pain yoke from the guard’s view. The guard stomps about and curses a few moments more before I hear the clomping of his boots leave the shrine and head down its steps.
When I can hear his steps no more, I painfully squeeze out from behind the statue and hobble to the shrine entrance. The rain clouds have cleared, and the stars shine bright in the moonless sky. I hear the guard curse Snubby before I see the man’s shadowed silhouette rushing through the dark toward the pine groves and apricot orchards on the back side of the shrine.
Thank you Snubby. I owe you a pile of hazelnuts.
As fast as my shackles and pain yoke allow and grinning through pricks of pain, I hobble down the steps and make my way to the exercise lawn. Thankfully, I don’t see or hear the guard. At the lawn’s edge, I sit beside a flowering plum tree and try to sleep.
Shivering from the cold and grimacing at the pinpricks at my neck, the hours pass slowly with fitful sleep. The fragrance of soaked wood from last night’s rain still weighs heavy in the garden shrine air when I wake. Hints of red and purple begin to brighten the eastern sky. The shrine garden and nearby Gudai forest have already started to come alive with the morning chirps and whistles of wagtails, jays, thrushes, and other birds.
“Meilin, are you well?” Master Jin’s soft voice startles me. Barefoot on the edge of the exercise lawn, the Fei Chi master crouches near me in his lavish, bright green priest robes. “I am so sorry you have suffered this past day and night because of me.”
I can’t help but smile at the kindness in Master Jin’s voice. “The fault is mine, not yours. I need to be more respectful.”
Even as the words leave my mouth, they feel wrong, especially in Master Jin’s presence. He has never sought for respect or honor. And while he would never openly defy the principles of Innate Honor, he has always treated me and other women with uncommon respect. I have often wondered if it’s because he has dedicated his life to serving Tiānqì Shen, one of the many female Shen.
I have never heard him utter the words, but I would not be surprised to hear him privately say, “Lord Emperor’s mandate of Innate Honor teaches that woman must reverence man. Yet we reverence all children of the Two equally, both male and female Shen. Why is that so?” Whether intentional or not, the way Master Jin acts and speaks has somehow made me silently consider that question many times—a question that no one else in Ning seems to have ever considered. A question that too often pushes me toward trouble.
Master Jin smiles. “You are a girl of rare character, Meilin.” He rises from his crouch and continues with a pinched expression, “No matter how good that rarity may be, others may not see it as so.”
Master Jin walks away to the middle of the exercise lawn to await the arrival of the villagers for morning exercises. When they come, few look my way. It’s as if I’m invisible to them. I smile. That’s fine. I’m disappointed, but not surprised that Father and Mama are not with the villagers. Seeing me yoked would only remind Father how I have shamed him.
But Lian came, probably against Father’s demands. When she sees me, she rushes toward me and wraps her arms around me, causing the yoke’s needles to prick my neck. I try not to let her see the pain she causes. I want to sink into her embrace.
“Oh, Lian, I am so sorry,” she whispers. “Are you well? Have you eaten yet? I brought you a little something.”
She slips a few hazelnuts into my mouth out of sight of the guard and Magistrate Pang before joining the others on the exercise lawn. After they finish moving through the Fei Chi forms, Master Jin dismisses the men and boys as the women and girls hold their bows.
Leaving their families behind, the men stroll down the angling path that leads through the shrine gardens toward the main road to Ning village. Master Jin walks at the rear of the group, conversing with the village elders. He’ll walk all the way to the village square with them, anxious to debate the virtues and powers of the different Shen while enjoying morning tea with fruit buns, sweet dumplings, and sesame cakes.
As the men walk away, the women and children leave their ordered rows to retrieve their own hats and sandals. The women huddle close in pairs and trios, chatting and laughing with each other. The young ones giggle and shout, running in circles, spontaneously beginning a game of tag. I no longer see Lian. She must have hurried off to quell Father’s anger at her disobedience. A few minutes pass before the other women finally begin to corral their children and make their own way to the garden path and the road back to Ning.
As soon as the women and children disappear from view beneath the canopy of weeping willows near the garden’s entrance, Magistrate Pang strides toward me. I keep my head bowed, my eyes on his toes, and my lips in a thin line careful not to show any emotion. For Pang, a frown is sign of disrespect and a smile means I haven’t suffered enough. Either one will give him an excuse to beat me again or keep me in the pain yoke longer.
“Have you learned your lesson, child?” The scorn in his voice has a sharp edge. “Do you need more time in the pain yoke?”
“That would be delightful!” I’m tempted to say, but I’m not that witless. I’m tired. I want the pinpricks to be gone. I want to go home. I don’t want another thrashing. So, I offer one of the few practiced replies that I know Pang likes.
“Magistrate, your merciful punishment has inspired me to show greater honor and respect, yet I will yield to your judgement.”
He grunts, which is a good thing. No screeching. No yelling. No beating me with his thrashing rod. All signs that he’s in one of his better moods. I hold as still as I can as he unlatches the pain yoke and removes the shackles from my ankles. The freedom and relief feel divine, but I hold in the sigh pushing against the inside of my lips.
“Mind yourself, Qiu Meilin.” The words sound more like a threat, than an order. “Don’t make me regret being so easy on you.”
I don’t move until Pang marches away and vanishes from sight among the cluster of weeping willows near the garden exit. I rise slowly after I put on my sandals and wide brim bamboo hat. My neck and ankles throb, but it feels wonderful to be free.
“What in the Two’s name is that?”
Around where I sat, the character symbol for wind has been scrawled in the dirt over and over again. I don’t remember drawing the characters, but they look like they were done in my own hand.
I look closer. A meaningless curved slash has been drawn beside each wind character. No. The character isn’t meaningless. It’s the Mother stroke, the right slanting stroke that makes up the female half of the symbol representing the Two. I’ve never seen the Mother stroke written by itself, let alone paired with the wind symbol.
I shake my head. “Meilin, what were you doing? Are you going crazy?”
I must be. I have no memory of making those characters, but I did. Why would I do that? Even stranger, I’ve also drawn the wind and Mother stroke on my hand with one of my charcoal sticks. Could it be a sign from Tiānqì Shen? I think of my prayer to Tiānqì Shen and my strange experience with the Shen Breath in her shrine. What did it mean? Is the goddess of weather somehow going to help Lian after all?
Pondering the characters’ meaning, I start my walk home. My spirits rise as I pass beneath the canopy of willows and my sandaled feet touch down on the dusty road that runs along the edges of Gudai Forest and leads to Ning. I grin. Even though a long day of work lies ahead, I’m happy to be going home. But the grin lessens when I remember that Lian is still in danger. Today is the day my nightmares come true.
My ponderings are so stirred up with thoughts of the Shen and Lian that I barely notice the escalating rants of a squealing monkey coming from the gardens behind me. The squealing grows louder and louder, turning into wild screeches. I grin as it reminds me of the pile of hazelnuts that I owe Snubby for saving my life. As obnoxious as the golden ball of fur is, he really isn’t that bad for a monkey.
I turn back toward the garden entrance, wondering if it’s Snubby making all that noise. Suddenly, the screeches stop. Instead of feeling relief, I tense. I watch and wait for the stream of squeals and shrieks to start back up. They don’t.
After a long wait, raucous laughter booms from the garden entrance. I dart from the road toward the cover of Gudai forest and hide behind a massive oak. The shrine guard walks up the road, swaying side to side as if he’s the happiest man alive. With one hand on the pommel of his sword, his other hand tightly holds a bag. He swings the bag in a wide circle and laughs loudly.
He repeats this several times, but it’s not until he’s quite a bit closer that I hear a soft whimper every time he swings the bag and I realize something inside the bag is moving. No. It can’t be. The guard caught Snubby.