Beasts of a Little Land

Whereas Luna was born out of tragic love, Lotus was simply an accident left behind by a careless patron. Jade secretly believed that this was why Silver treated her younger daughter with such indifference; Lotus was the only thing in her life that had happened completely against her wishes. If a woman like Silver couldn’t end up happy, Jade thought it was unlikely she herself would wind up better. Courtesans were considered past their prime by twenty-five and geriatric by thirty. If they didn’t manage to become a concubine or a madame before then, they could end up no different from a common prostitute. Naturally, the senior courtesans in Silver’s house excelled in the art of falling in love with wizened landlords and decrepit bankers. This was a game at which the men and the women participated in harmonious complicity.

Jade—a few years away from becoming a provincial courtesan of middling looks—still couldn’t imagine bedding some landowner with gold teeth and terrible breath. Instead, she dreamed of handsome young aristocrats with a weakness for poetry. According to Silver, the best and most admired courtesans in history could agitate the noblest gentlemen just through poetic correspondences. They often fell deeply in love without even seeing each other’s faces, so intensely heightened were their epistolary skills. Sometimes these passions were consummated; other times they tragically went on their whole lives burning with longing. Jade daydreamed often about these romances, sighing as offerings to these thwarted loves. Perhaps this was why her mother had warned against the corruptive power of education—even without any man in sight, language itself seduced her. She fluttered with the knowledge that certain words in a certain order could rearrange her on the inside, like moving furniture. Words changed and remade her constantly, and no one else could even sense a difference. So after their lessons, while other girls busied themselves with strolling in the garden or steaming their skin with rice water, Jade practiced her letters alone.

WHEN SPRING ARRIVED, SILVER MOVED the afternoon literature class to the folly in the garden. Each day, she assigned a girl to recite classical poetry by heart. For her turn Jade chose a poem by Hwang Jini, a sixteenth-century courtesan who made conquests of royals, monks, scholars, penniless artists, and rich philanderers alike. She was said to have had no equal in poetry, calligraphy, literature, painting, dance, and music, and her reputation for beauty spread throughout the kingdom and even reached China. But what Jade admired the most about her was that she freely chose her lovers and left them without tears.

Silver called Jade to the front of the class, and she began:

“Floating on the river, that little boat of pine tree,

How many years has it been moored by the shore?

If the next one asks who has crossed the river first,

I shall say it was a man both learned and gallant.”

When she’d first read it, the poem had jolted her with both pain and pleasure. But the other girls seemed utterly unmoved. Only Lotus’s face was distorted from suppressing a yawn.

“Very well—one of my favorites,” Silver said approvingly. “Now who can tell me what this means?”

The girls looked around at one another furtively, shifting in their seats. Lotus piped, “Is it about going boating, Mama?” and the others twittered and giggled in unison.

“No, of course not. I really despair of teaching you lot any poetry.” Silver shook her head gravely. Jade was about to raise her hand when Stoney appeared, bowed to his mistress, and rapped the wooden floor with his knuckles.

“The silk merchant is here? A new one then?” Silver asked. She could make out Stoney’s hand-tapped messages no matter how complicated they were; no one else could understand the deaf-mute servant. Silver sighed and rose to standing in one graceful movement.

“I must go look at the fabrics. You may play now,” she decreed, and the girls bowed their heads low.

“I could’ve sworn it was about boating. What do you think it means?” Lotus asked Jade as they slipped on their shoes. Jade had known what the poem meant and even the reason Silver liked it so much. That was why she’d chosen it in the first place.

“It’s about a woman who is remembering her first love,” she replied.

Among all the courtesans and apprentices, Jade felt that she was the only person who understood this secret language taught by her mistress. Regarding the things her best friend couldn’t understand, Jade spoke to books instead. She wondered if she would one day find someone who would speak it back to her.

*

IN HER BEDCHAMBER, SILVER SAT down on her silk cot and waited for the merchant, one hand mindlessly twirling the ring on her finger. Through her latticed doors decked with gemstone tassels, she could hear the girls shrieking and laughing in their play.

“Madame Silver, this is Merchant Chun, at your service,” the silk merchant announced himself outside her door.

“Please come in.”

The merchant opened the sliding door and entered, carrying his pack full of fabrics and trinkets. He bowed low at Silver, who gestured at the burden on his back.

“Do put down that heavy pack and take a seat. And please make yourself comfortable. I’ve already asked my servant to bring in some refreshments.”

“Thank you, Madame, your kindness is unwarranted,” Chun said, and then took the pack off his back and laid it down on the floor. He himself sat cross-legged on the silk cushion she’d already set out for him, as Stoney brought over a tray of clear wine and squash fritters—delicacies that only a wealthy courtesan could afford these days.

“I was truly devastated to hear about Old Man Baek,” Silver said. “You’re a member of his guild—so you must know he’s been bringing his wares to this house since even before my time.”

Instead of an answer, Chun simply bowed his head.

“Were you close with him, Master Chun?”

“Madame, he was my family. My mother’s brother.”

“So have you inherited all of his territory?” Silver asked, suddenly keen. Chun considered her face for a moment before answering quietly.

“Yes, Madame. He’d lost his sons long ago and I was his closest kin, heir, and confidant.”

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