I can tell she’s trying to be nice to me—and I’ve always wanted to go—but does she think she can buy my favor as easily as she bought the bodyguards? I keep my answer short. “Maybe.”
She draws in her chin and looks away. After a long silence, she says, “We don’t know what awaits us at your grandparents’ home. I am not your mother, and it seems you don’t want me as a friend either, but you might want to reconsider that. When we step over this new threshold, you will know only three people—Poppy, your brother, and me. It’s important for women—and girls—to find friendship and steadfastness where they can. I can be those things for you if you’ll let me.” She holds up a hand to keep me from speaking. “We’re almost there. I’ll gather our belongings.”
Suddenly I’m scared. Everything the concubine said is true. My entire life has been turned upside down, and now we’re about to enter a strange household where we won’t know a single soul apart from each other.
The boat turns onto a new canal just as Miss Zhao comes back onto the deck. Both banks are lined with walled enclaves from which roofs sprout like small villages. The boatman steers the sampan to a stone dock, which looks like a floating pavilion with its upturned eaves and stone balustrades. My grandparents’ home is called the Mansion of Golden Light. The gray walls that protect the property stretch down the road that parallels the canal in both directions. The main gate rises proudly, with the family name carved in the plinth at the top. A pair of stone lions stand guard, one on either side of the heavily carved wooden doors. The gatekeeper calls to someone inside, “They’re here! They’re here!”
I take a last look around me, positive that once I step over the threshold and into the Mansion of Golden Light I won’t leave it again until my wedding day. Then I give myself a little shake and return my gaze to the gate, still nervous after Miss Zhao’s caution.
The threshold is high to show the importance of the family, and Miss Zhao and I must be careful as we step over it. To the right and left, servants’ rooms edge against the protective wall.
I won’t let myself be separated from Poppy, and I pull her along with me as we continue into a courtyard. A woman with bound feet greets us. She’s slender and pretty but no match to my mother or Miss Zhao. She addresses Yifeng—the lone male in our group. “My name is Inky. I manage the day-to-day affairs in the Mansion of Golden Light. I will make sure your needs are met.” She runs her eyes over each of us from top to bottom. When she sees Poppy’s big feet, her forehead crinkles in clear disapproval. Then she straightens her narrow shoulders and gestures around her. “There are five courtyards here. Your grandparents have asked that you stay in the rooms at the back of the compound, where our inner chambers are located. We hope you will find them satisfactory.”
We quickly pass through the second and third courtyards. Covered colonnades fringe the sides. The beams and rafters are carved and painted. The buildings themselves are impressive, with tile roofs that look like fish scales and upturned eaves with glazed guardian figures protecting the corners. Each courtyard is grander than the last, but Inky doesn’t tell us what they’re for or who lives in them. When we enter the fourth courtyard, she stops to explain, pointing to her right. “Those are the rooms where Master Tan and Lady Ru see patients.” She gestures to her left. “Here are Master Tan’s bedroom and study. Your grandmother has the rooms next to his. Do not bother them when they’re seeing patients.” Inky considers what she’s said, then adds, “Do not make noise of any sort.” She looks at my brother. “This means you especially.”
We reach the fifth courtyard. As in all households—even a smaller one like where I lived with Father and Respectful Lady—the rooms farthest from the main gate are considered the safest, so they are where all the unmarried girls, including the concubines, reside. Inky dips her head politely in my direction. “Please wait here.” Then, “Miss Zhao, follow me.”
My father’s concubine takes two steps, then turns back to make sure I’m watching where she’s going. I nod to let her know I am.
Poppy and I stand together, surrounded by grandeur neither of us has seen before, while Inky escorts Miss Zhao and Yifeng up a step, across the colonnade, and into a room. I quickly count the doors on that side of the courtyard. Her room is the third from the left.
Inky returns, and Poppy and I follow her up a step across the courtyard from Miss Zhao’s room. A door stands ajar. “We’ve been waiting for you,” Inky says, “and everything has been prepared. We hope you will find your quarters satisfactory.”
The space is probably four times the size of what I had back home. A table and chair are positioned before one wall. Porcelain brush holders sprout calligraphy brushes in every size and shape. Books and handscrolls fill shelves behind the desk. My zither has been placed against another wall. Instead of the kang on which I’ve slept my whole life, my mother’s marriage bed rises before me—a room within a room. Seeing it, I feel as though a sword is driven through my chest.
Inky stares at me sympathetically. “Your grandmother thought you would want to be close to the one who brought you into the world.”
I blink away tears.
When I don’t say anything, Inky turns to Poppy. Instructions are given. Things are pointed out. I absorb none of it. I miss my mother.
Later, after Poppy has bathed me and dressed me in clean clothes, I’m brought to meet my grandparents in the Greeting Hall. My mother and father are so much in my mind that I’m startled to see my grandparents seated as my parents were in their paired chairs on the night Respectful Lady collapsed. I drop to my knees and put my forehead on the floor.
“Please rise,” Grandfather Tan says. “Step forward so we can get a better look at you.”
I feel my grandparents’ eyes on me as I move.
“Lift your face,” Grandfather Tan orders.
He wears a long silk underrobe of deep blue silk, with an embroidered hem, a belt with a jade buckle, and a tassel that hangs to the side. He has a wispy mustache, and a thin beard sprouts from his chin. He winds the tail with his fingers so that it curls down midchest. His eyes look kind, and his hands appear smooth and pale. Wrinkles like bird tracks in sand run from the corners of his eyes. The word to describe Grandmother Ru other than old is plump. She should have wrinkles, but her face is smooth and unaffected by her years. Pearls and jade pieces decorate her tunic, which is embellished with embroidery on the hem, sleeve edges, and neck. Her hair is still black, piled high on her head, and held in place with jade pins and other gold ornaments.
After what feels like an eternity, Grandmother Ru comments, “She looks like her mother.”
With that, I start to cry.
“Bring her to me,” Grandmother Ru says.
Before I can begin to take in what’s happening, Grandfather Tan has picked me up and put me on Grandmother Ru’s lap. She wraps one arm around my waist to hold me close, while her other hand goes to the back of my head to bring me to her shoulder. “There, Child. Let the tears come.”
Grandfather Tan gently pats my back. He makes comforting cooing sounds, and then says, “This is your home now. Don’t worry. We will take care of you.”
No Mud, No Lotus
“Guan, guan cry the ospreys,” I recite, “on the islet in the river. The beautiful and good young lady is a fine mate for the lord.”
Grandfather Tan laughs as I come to the end of the first stanza of the “Air of the Fish Hawks” from the Book of Odes. He likes to listen to me recite poems or chant from the classics, especially in the evenings, when he treats himself to cups of wine. Now he turns to Grandmother Ru, who sits on the other side of the tea table. “Does this poem tell the story of a young noble finding a kind and lovely maiden? Is it a criticism of the government, an allegory about Queen Tai Si, who was the ideal and idolized wife of King Wen, or an example of how people should behave in relation to bedroom affairs?”
She waves him off. “Do we need to discuss these things in front of Yunxian? She’s too young.”
“But she’s smart!” He pinches his beard between thumb and forefinger.
“You praise her too highly and with such glowing words,” Grandmother teases. Both grandparents adore me, but I spend the most time with my grandmother. While propriety would dictate that we maintain physical distance from each other, she likes to keep me close. Her hugs and kisses go against everything I’ve been taught, but I love them just the same.
“I waited a long time to have a granddaughter,” he responds. Even though it’s just the three of us, he’s dressed to show his status. The square on the chest of his outer robe is embroidered with a purple mandarin duck, signifying to the world that he’s a Gentleman Scholar of the seventh rank. The body of his hat is made of black silk with a dome of ruby-red silk.
“You mean one who can entertain you.”