A Snake Always Sheds Its Skin
Two weeks later, my husband’s happiness and the warmth we’ve shared end abruptly when the news reaches us that Meiling has been chosen to go to the capital to join the Lodge of Ritual and Ceremony, which provides doctors, midwives, and wet nurses to the woman of the imperial palace. Until today, Maoren and I have had few disagreements, with never a raised voice. He’s always preferred to follow the rules for a model husband: Ascend the bed, act like a husband; descend the bed, act like a gentleman. Not now…
“You were supposed to promote the family, not the midwife,” Maoren says through clenched teeth.
“I did exactly what your mother told me to do. I was hospitable. I helped Widow Bao and Lady Liu. I took them to meet Young Midwife because they asked—”
“My father and I spent time and money hosting the official and his family here and entertaining them in Nanjing. How is it that the midwife is the one to be rewarded?”
I love Meiling, but I have to admit it stings that she’s been selected for this honor. I remind myself that being called to serve women in the palace is the greatest honor a midwife can attain, and that the possibility of this outcome might have been something Grandmother saw in Meiling a long time ago.
“It’s not my fault that the guests you sent to our inner chambers were looking for a midwife,” I say. “But you must remember our visitors also sought guidance about Widow Bao’s daughter. My prescription helped. Your father should be content with the new silk contracts my good advice brought the family.”
My comments could be interpreted as impertinent—truly, shouldn’t he have known what Lady Liu and Widow Bao were looking for on their imperial tour?—and they don’t go down smoothly. Maoren looks as though he’s swallowed a lizard and it’s trying to escape back up his throat. His Dragon scheming didn’t work in the way he’d hoped.
“Go to her,” he says, refusing to call Meiling by her name or her title. “Remind her where this opportunity comes from. Make her see how important it is to help the Yang family.”
I don’t know what he hopes I’ll achieve, but he arranges for a palanquin to take me straightaway to Meiling’s home—openly, without any secret ploys or tricks to deceive his mother.
When I arrive at Grace Tranquility Teas, Midwife Shi has her mouth set in a grim slit as she tries to wrangle a room filled with demanding customers. The news of Meiling’s good fortune has already spread and is serving as an enticement to patrons who hope some of this family’s luck will rub off. I slip through the crowd and up the back stairs to find Meiling and Kailoo in the main room, standing before an open trunk, surrounded by piles of clothes and shoes.
“I don’t think anything I own is right for the palace,” Meiling says when she sees me.
“They haven’t requested you for the quality of your silks and brocades,” I respond.
“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” Kailoo’s face shines with pride.
“Perhaps I can help,” I say.
Apparently, these are the exact words Kailoo has longed to hear, for he leaves the room in seconds. Meiling shakes her head and smiles. “I will miss him.”
I approach and take her hands. “And I will miss you.”
She draws away. “I’m scared.”
“Of the trip? Don’t be. You’ll be on the Grand Canal for five weeks, maybe shorter, weather and conditions permitting. You remember that I once traveled—”
“I’m not afraid of the journey. They want me to care for women in the court!”
“So Maoren has told me.” I pause, hoping my serenity will calm her. “You are the best midwife in Wuxi.”
“But there are cities much larger than this one, where midwives must have greater skills—”
“Those midwives didn’t meet the right people,” I point out. “Even if they did, I doubt many would have your refinement.”
“But what if I have to treat the empress?”
I laugh at the idea, and she joins in. Once I’ve collected myself, I say, “Even if this were so, does Empress Zhang have a childbirth gate different from yours or mine or any woman’s across our great country?”
Meiling acknowledges this truth with a dip of her chin, but her worried expression remains. “If anything should go wrong—”
“They requested you because Lady Liu and Widow Bao saw you at work.”
“I was only passing messages!”
“You gave Doctor Wong the diagnosis,” I correct her. “Besides, do you honestly think their inquiries stopped after that day?”
“Emissaries came to speak with Doctor Wong,” she admits. “He must have said good things about me—”
“Because your light shines on him too. The same people who spoke to Doctor Wong also visited Grandmother Ru. She told them that in addition to your skills as a midwife, you spent much time as a child in the Mansion of Golden Light. You learned how to dress and act around women of high standing.” Her eyes probe mine until I add, “And I told them how you and your mother saved my life and that of Yuelan.”
“Doctor Wong wishes he’d been appointed too.”
“He would never be chosen, because male doctors are not permitted to enter the palace of imperial wives and concubines. Only the emperor can see those women.”
“The eunuchs—”
“Some may be doctors, but they are not men.”
“They could have hired Doctor Wong to take care of the men—”
“Meiling, stop.”
With that, I turn to the garments she’s strewn about. “Now what are you going to take? I’ve always liked those leggings. They hang long and cover—”
“My big feet.”
“I don’t think you’ll need sandals—”
“Because I don’t want to offend anyone,” she once again finishes.
“Because it gets very cold in Beijing,” I correct her.
“I won’t be gone that long—”
“Summer is ending. It will take at least a month to travel north and another month to come home. And you don’t know how long they’ll keep you.” I pause to let her consider this. “What do you have for the winter months? Boots? A fur-lined jacket?”
“My only boots are for walking through the mud after it rains. The ones you wore—”
“They’ll have to do for now.”
And on it goes as Meiling holds up pieces one by one—many of them my castoffs—and I nod or shake my head to give my opinion. She packs the indigo-dyed tunic and trousers that she dresses in when attending births but also includes the simple silk gown she’s begun to wear for her monthly visits to the Garden of Fragrant Delights with Doctor Wong.
“This dress has brought me luck,” she says.
“And it is elegant in any room.”
We select nine hairpins, two necklaces, and eight pairs of earrings—the numbers of each considered most fortuitous for a Snake. We fill her embroidery basket, so she’ll have something to keep her occupied during the trip up the Grand Canal and then during the days of waiting for women in the palace to go into labor. Last, we pack a selection of teas that Meiling will be able to brew on the boat and in her room once she reaches her destination.
“The taste and aroma will remind you of home and of all those who care for you,” I say.
I’m thinking about all the women she helps, but her mind goes in another direction.
“I hope Kailoo misses me, but I doubt he will.” She looks pained. “He’s lost patience with my inability to give him a child. Even a daughter would do at this point.” Realizing she’s touched my sensitive spot—that I have not been able to conceive a son—she adds, “You worry about this too. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me.” Seeing Meiling’s eyes begin to mist, I take her hands once again. “Don’t let fear attack you. Remember a Snake is descended from the Dragon. This gives you great strength and fortitude.”
When I get home, I report nearly everything to my husband. He agrees to send several bolts of silk to Meiling, so she might make some clothes for herself during her trip, which will be a fine advertisement for the Yang family’s products to the women of the palace. That night, he retires to Snowpink’s room, and I sleep alone in my marriage bed. He leaves for Nanjing the next day.
* * *
The first three months of Meiling’s absence pass quickly. The blossoms of summer have dropped completely, and the trees have turned gold. On a crisp autumn day, Maoren surprises us all with an unplanned visit. He sends a servant to request I come to his library immediately, which I do. I have news for Maoren, but before I can tell him, he brings out a scroll from his sleeve. It has even more wax seals than what secured the letter Lady Liu sent.
“The Lodge of Ritual and Ceremony has requested you go to the capital at once to treat a woman in the Forbidden City who is suffering from an eye infection,” Maoren announces as he reads from the document. He looks at me. “I presume the midwife recommended you. You must thank her on behalf of the family when you see her.”