“Are you sure? Have you tried?”
I haven’t, but I’ve taken Meiling’s silence for reproval. “How can she forgive me when I can’t forgive myself?” I ask Miss Zhao as I adjust Lian in my arms. “Whatever she’s feeling toward me is made worse now that I have a son. Every sound he makes must feel like another stab from a sword.” I hesitate, afraid to reveal my deepest fear. “I don’t know if a path can be found back to the trust and the deep-heart love Meiling and I first discovered as girls.”
“Every minute of silence you allow to continue will push the two of you farther apart. It takes a lifetime to make a friend, but you can lose one in an hour,” she recites. “Life without a friend is life without sun. Life without a friend is death.”
I nod in acceptance of her wisdom. “Can you take the baby for a while?”
Lian doesn’t even open his eyes as I transfer him to Miss Zhao. I return to our room and Meiling’s seemingly unbreakable reserve. I tell Poppy to go to the deck. After she leaves, I sit on the edge of Meiling’s cot. She rolls away from me. I put a hand on her ankle, hoping to send the message that I’m not going anywhere.
“I keep thinking about what I could have done differently,” I begin, although it feels like I’m talking to the air. “I’ve reexamined everything I gave you and reviewed all the times I performed the Four Examinations on you. I should find a mistake—a fault in one of my formulas perhaps—but it eludes me. I wonder if what happened might be the working out of some destiny that is not clear to us. Perhaps something afflicted the baby—imbecility or a deformity. Can a miscarriage ever be looked at as a fortunate misfortune?”
“A fortunate misfortune?” Her voice comes to me as though from the bottom of a well.
“That wouldn’t mean I’m not at fault,” I add quickly. “I am, and I will surely pay for my errors in the Afterworld.” She doesn’t move a muscle. I take a breath and attempt to go on. “Your loss—”
“Stop!”
“I’m trying to apologize—”
She lurches to a sitting position so suddenly that I’m taken aback. Her eyes are filled with the same anguish I’ve seen in them since she first told me she was in labor. “This wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”
“You mustn’t blame yourself—”
She shakes her head vehemently. “You have it all wrong,” she blurts. “I was taking a formula made by Doctor Wong. What I took was meant for you. My selfishness protected you.”
My body draws up, confused. “What do you mean? Doctor Wong prescribed nothing for me.”
“But he did.”
I wait, feeling that if I press her, she’ll retreat back into silence. But once she begins to speak again, I wish beyond all wishing that I couldn’t hear the words.
“Lady Kuo asked Doctor Wong to make his best formula to protect you and your baby in the final stage of pregnancy,” she stammers.
“She gave me no such thing.”
“Because she probably knew you wouldn’t take it.” Another long silence. Then, “She gave the herbs to Poppy.”
“Poppy?”
“She was to make the formula and give it to you when you entered your seventh month. I stole the ingredients and made them into a brew for me instead.” Meiling drops her head so I can’t see her eyes. “So many sayings cover my greed and envy. The sight of treasure provides the motive… A plan is born when a man is desperate… But none is more apt than Carelessness in putting things away teaches others to steal. I knew where the ingredients were, and I took them. I wanted a baby so badly, but I lost the one thing I wanted as punishment for stealing what was meant for you.”
Her confession doesn’t make the waters any clearer. “Why would you take something meant for me, Meiling? Why?”
“I thought if it was good enough for you, then why shouldn’t I take it?” She begins to weep. “Remember when my mother said that a Metal Snake can have an envious streak? I paid a price for my envy. My baby died.”
I shake my head. “Something’s wrong here. Doctor Wong and I may have different ideas about Blood-warming and Blood-cooling during pregnancy—and his prescription could have counteracted what I gave you—but that wouldn’t have resulted in a miscarriage. Do you still have any of the ingredients? I want to see what he used.”
With effort, Meiling rises from the bed, goes to one of her bags, digs through the contents, and returns with a silk pouch tied with woven cord. I open it and pour the contents on the quilt. As my fingers go from item to item, my heart feels as though it’s dropping to the pit of my stomach.
“Well?” Meiling asks.
“Ox knee is often used to expel old monthly moon water or clear the child palace of lingering blood after birth,” I answer, my throat tightening around my words. “But it can also be used on wives thought too sickly to carry a baby to term. Expelling the embryo gives the woman a chance to live.”
Meiling draws a hand across her mouth as she takes this in.
I can hardly get the next words out. “And here are peach kernels.”
“Yes. So?”
“They’re in every abortifacient recipe.” I avert my gaze as she absorbs this fact. “This is Tibetan crocus,” I press on, “which is a Blood-moving medicine. Some women use it to regulate their monthly moon water, but it can also cause an abortion or miscarriage. If not taken properly, a woman can easily bleed to death, which you almost did. These tragedies would have happened to me too if I’d taken this formula.”
The implications of what I’m saying cause Meiling to cry out, “But why?”
I don’t know the answer, but there’s someone on board who might. I leave Meiling sobbing on the bed. I return to the deck and ask Poppy to come with me. Miss Zhao follows, with my son in her arms.
When we get to the room, I look at Poppy. “Tell us about the herbs you were to give me.”
My maid’s face falls. It’s as if she’s been waiting for this moment and been dreading it. “I’m so sorry, Lady Tan, but I must have misplaced them.”
Meiling, weak and broken, admits that she took the ingredients.
Poppy’s eyes widen, her relief clear. I question her, and she answers.
“You were going far away, and Lady Kuo wanted you to deliver a grandson safely. She wanted you to live long enough to bring him home. I was to follow Doctor Wong’s orders for preparing the tea and make sure you took it. He gave them to me.”
Live long enough to bring him home? That’s irksome, but I have to believe Lady Kuo thought she was doing what was best for me. That doesn’t explain Doctor Wong’s prescription, however.
“Why would Doctor Wong have given Poppy these ingredients unless he meant to do me harm?” I ask my traveling companions. “Or is he that inept?”
“We’ll find no answers until we return home,” says Miss Zhao, always a champion of logic and calm.
“As soon as we reach Wuxi…” I’ll do what exactly? Confront my mother-in-law? Demand an answer from Doctor Wong? I force myself to regain my composure. “Wuxi is still weeks away,” I say to the room at large. “Now that I know what Meiling took, I can use the time to figure out how better to treat her.” I turn to my friend. “I’ll start with herbs to end your bleeding and continue administering the Decoction of Four Substances and the Decoction of Two Aged Ingredients. I’ll supplement the latter with cardamom to regulate your qi, calm your stomach, and increase your appetite, nut grass rhizome to settle and regulate your blood flow, and the immature fruit of bitter orange to promote wound healing. Does that sound all right to you?”
* * *