“So we could be alone,” I finish for her.
After seven years, my relationship with Meiling is unlike any other I’ve witnessed between sisters, between concubines, and certainly between wives and concubines. Grandmother wanted Meiling and me to learn from each other, and we have. Although Meiling struggled to absorb the skills necessary for reading and writing—her calligraphy will never be as refined as mine—she’s mastered enough characters to write simple letters and poems. In exchange, she’s told me about the carnivals and festivals she’s attended, with a lot of detail about food: the candied taro stand where Midwife Shi takes Meiling to celebrate a successful birth, the mooncakes they buy at a shop in Wuxi’s main square, the special pork and mushroom dumplings the two of them make to celebrate the Dragon Boat Festival. My strategy to get her to give me these innocent descriptions of the outside world as a way to lull her into talking about forbidden subjects worked. Over the years, I’ve been able to pry from her many of the unseemly aspects of a midwife’s profession—helping coroners examine women and girls whose deaths are questionable and finding the answers by looking for clues that remain on their bodies. How to determine which poison was used to kill a concubine; whether a woman found in a well died from suicide, murder, or accident; if a girl’s childbirth gate has been violated. My grandparents are correct that this is filthy work—something that no follower of Confucius would ever do—but the stories of particular cases have captured my imagination and helped me understand aspects of life and death not taught to me by my grandparents.
What has continued to tie Meiling and me together is our study of women’s medicine, she from the perspective of a midwife’s apprentice and I from the perspective of a doctor in training. I’ve been in the room with Midwife Shi and Meiling when they brought new cousins into the world. We shared joy when Lady Huang’s first daughter-in-law gave birth to twin boys. We’ve listened to Meiling’s mother and my grandmother discuss fertility issues, miscarriages, and difficult births. We sat quietly when Grandmother Ru and Midwife Shi debated how to treat Red Jade, who became pregnant when my grandfather was away in Nanjing for several months. Grandmother diagnosed a ghost pregnancy, which, as the world knows, can last as long as five years. It did not come to that. Midwife Shi oversaw the miscarriage, and Grandmother allowed Red Jade to remain in the household. The concubine’s loyalty to my grandmother will last until death, and we’ve seen the many ways Red Jade’s eyes and ears help Grandmother to this day—revealing intrigues in the inner chambers, helping keep track of when monthly moon water comes for each and every girl and woman in the household, and, most important, informing on a concubine, wife, or daughter who might succumb to the wiles of a demon or ghost as she herself once did. And Meiling has recounted cases from other households where she and her mother have worked with male doctors. Through her stories, I’ve learned how those doctors treat women, and the power they wield over women in labor by letting them suffer “as nature intended,” by refusing to prescribe herbs to alleviate pain or make a baby slippery.
If I have a deeper understanding of women and their bodies from watching and listening to Meiling, the same can be said for her observations of my grandmother and me as my knowledge has expanded not just in treating the common ailments of women and children but also in the medicine specific to below the girdle. But our connection goes far deeper. I held Meiling when she cried after she and her mother brought a stillborn into the world. She held me when I learned my father wouldn’t be coming home for my wedding. I comforted her when she learned whom she would marry: a tea merchant, older than she is by ten years, named Zhang Kailoo. She’s comforted me each year when I weep on the anniversary of Respectful Lady’s death.
With only a few minutes alone together before the other women in the household come to help me dress, I hurry to share my feelings with Meiling. “I may be going to my husband’s home, but you will never be far from my heart.”
“We are so close, no one could slip a piece of paper between us,” she agrees.
“I wish you and your husband could be a part of today’s celebration. It is a sorrow for me that you can’t.”
“It’s not possible,” she says, accepting. “You’re going into a household of note. A modest tea merchant and an old granny would not be suitable guests.”
“Old granny!”
We laugh as we always do when she refers to herself this way, but today the laughter is a show of bravery on both our parts.
Meiling tips her head and casts her eyes down in the demure way she has since we first met. “Yunxian, I’m forever grateful to your grandparents for buying tea from my husband to be a part of your dowry. When you prepare it for your mother-in-law, think of me.”
“I will.”
“I hope as well that you’ll have many hours alone with your husband so that the two of you might get to know each other as Kailoo and I have. On those nights when I’m not assisting my mother with a delivery, Kailoo and I sit under a camphor tree in a nearby square, drink tea, and talk. I hope you and your husband will be as happy as we are.”
“Grandmother says my husband and I have been well matched.”
“A perfect match and great happiness should bring you many children.”
I take the blessing into my heart even as my friend sighs. A half year has passed since her wedding, and she’s still not pregnant. I worry about this for myself, and I know there’s only one way to make a baby…
Meiling takes my hand and asks, “Are you afraid about what will happen tonight?”
“I’m more informed than most girls,” I answer, acting as brave as I can about something I’ll do tonight with someone I have yet to meet.
“I’ve told you before I can help you. I learned the trick from my mother.” She holds up her index finger, mimes wrapping cotton around the tip, and then makes a stirring motion.
The skin along my scalp crawls. The method used to test a girl’s virginity in accusations of rape or in betrothals that may have been betrayed is the same as what Meiling is suggesting to ease the pain of my wedding night.
“Thank you, but no,” I say.
She smiles as she drops her finger. “I grew up hearing my mother refer to what a husband and wife do as bed business. She always says it’s a woman’s duty to do this business for her husband. I prefer the way your family has talked about it. Bedchamber affairs can bring a woman great joy, if you let them.”
“Grandmother says it’s a husband’s responsibility to make sure his wife has the happy moment, which helps to unite Blood and Essence to make a son—the ultimate happy moment.”
Meiling tucks her chin. My nervousness about what tonight will bring has caused me to touch her most painful failure—not getting pregnant.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“You’re leaving everything and everyone behind.” Her words come out sounding melodious, but they cut to my most vulnerable place. “Your grandmother, Miss Zhao, Inky—”
“This is the sad truth for every bride on earth,” I say. “But couldn’t it also be said that it is the true start of life? We’re taught that a girl is raised by her natal family until it’s time to go to her true family—that of her husband.”
“Stop reciting all that!” Her eyes widen at the sharpness of her own voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be harsh. You and I are different in so many ways. This is what I love about our friendship. But we must always be honest with each other.” She nibbles at her bottom lip, hesitating.
“Go on,” I encourage.
“At first I was disappointed to be married to someone so much older than I am, but Kailoo turned out to be a good man, and I don’t wake to serve my mother-in-law or have to steer through the intrigues of the inner chambers. Not only does Kailoo allow me to travel freely to attend to laboring women, he encourages it. He’s proud of me. He says I am a true Snake.” She recites, “If a Snake lives in the house, then a family will always be free from want. I’m bringing in money and raising our status. I do this by getting to see my mother nearly every day as we go from house to house to bring babies into the world.”
She walks to the table, where the clothes I’ll be wearing today have been laid out. She runs her fingers across the gold ornaments on the headdress. “In your married life, you will have wealth and privilege,” she says at last.
I can’t help but smile. “A Snake can be jealous for no reason—”
“This is not a case of a toad in a pond wishing to be a swallow in the sky. I am not jealous.” She turns to face me. Tears run down her cheeks. “What if this is the last time I see you?”
Startled, I bring my hand to my mouth. How could I not have thought of this? My eyes well and overflow, but before I have a chance to speak, Grandmother enters.