Lady Tan's Circle of Women

He twists his beard between his fingers. For a moment I wonder if this meeting was a good idea. Then I decide to make one last plea. “Many years ago, Grandfather and I sat on this same spot. He told me that he became a doctor to balance the cruelties he’d delivered as a Grand Master for Governance on the Board of Punishments.”

“I understand,” my father says. Then he recites, “Store up good deeds and you will meet with good. Store up evil actions and you will meet with evil.”

“When I was at the Forbidden City, Empress Zhang, the ladies of the court, and I interceded on Meiling’s behalf to reduce her sentence.”

“Were you successful?”

“Meiling is alive.”

My father concedes this fact with a tip of his head.

“Now I want to help Miss Chen.” I go on to explain her circumstances.

My father listens, but he doesn’t respond in the way I wish. “As I said earlier, I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished as a doctor, but perhaps you’ve interfered enough in household affairs.”

“Or maybe I haven’t done enough!”

He frowns in disapproval.

“Miss Chen showed great courage during the invasion of smallpox into the Garden of Fragrant Delights,” I continue.

“It’s not your place to—”

“Miss Chen didn’t get pregnant by herself,” I press on. “Was she a schemer or a victim? You didn’t ask! You didn’t even call on her!”

“This line of questioning would have humiliated your father-in-law and had the potential to upset the balance of power in the family. Leave it to him to decide whether or not to confront anyone else who might have been involved.”

“But some consideration should be given to Miss Chen, don’t you think? Why punish her for a man’s conniving?”

My father’s eyes narrow. “Your grandparents tell me you are good at the Four Examinations. I suggest you use that practice to consider what happened here. You asked if Miss Chen was a schemer or a victim. She schemed. No question. If she was also a victim, then who put her in that position, and why? I am less concerned with the Yang family’s reputation outside the gates than I am with the impact these disruptions to power and decorum will have inside the gates. Think on this, Yunxian, and I believe you will come to the same conclusion I did. I was trying to protect you from further intrigues.” He rises. “It was good to see you, Daughter. I hope not so many years pass until the next time.”

I could weep, if my mind wasn’t already running down the pathways he’s opened for me with his questions about Miss Chen: If she was also a victim, then who put her in that position, and why? I can think of only one person.





At the Border of the Sky

My father has planted ideas in my head, and I want to pursue them, but the stresses of the past year now catch up to me: The time in the capital, plus the rigors of travel to and from Beijing. Being pregnant and giving birth. Taking care of Meiling. The heavenly flowers outbreak. The re-inquest. My head pounds, and my body aches. I go to bed, and Poppy pulls the draperies. I sleep. I feel like I could stay here for a month, but on the third day Poppy comes with a note. Miss Zhao has sent word that Grandmother is seriously ill. I dress and hurry to my husband. “I must go to her,” I tell him.

He doesn’t offer objections. I may have my husband’s approval, but I need Lady Kuo to agree as well. When I walk to her room, I carry Lian in my arms. He grew a lot when I was treating the sick. His thighs are chubby, and his cheeks full. He’s an agreeable baby, and I don’t want to leave him again.

Lady Kuo greets me at the door to her room with her customary keeck, keeck. There are things I want to say and things I want to know, but they’ll have to wait. Like my husband, she is amenable to my leaving.

“Our family wishes to extend its continued gratitude to your grandmother for her help during the weeks of the heavenly flowers invasion.” She claps her hands, and Sparrow comes running. “Go to the front gate. Order the bearers to get a palanquin ready.”

As soon as Sparrow departs, I say, “Once again I must leave my son—”

She brushes aside my concern. “I’ll make sure the wet nurse fills his belly.”

I put Lian in his grandmother’s arms and turn away, promising myself that I’ll make up for my absences from him as a baby when it’s time for him to learn to read, write, and recite.

When I arrive at the Mansion of Golden Light, Inky whisks me through the courtyards to Grandmother’s bedchamber. Grandfather slumps in a chair. Miss Zhao hovers over him in the gloom. I approach the bed but am brought up short by the sight of Grandmother. Her skin is the color and texture of clay, and her gray hair is splayed out as though floating on the surface of a pond. I ball my hands into fists to fortify myself. Then I step forward, with a smile on my face, my heart fully open, and my mind thrumming with ideas of what I can do to help her.

“Do you think I’m unaware of you trying to do the Four Examinations on me?” Grandmother asks.

Before I can respond, Miss Zhao says, “Maybe Yunxian can do something.”

Grandmother’s eyes drift to the lantern as she considers this. Then, “I’m beyond help.”

Grandfather tries unsuccessfully to hide a groan. Miss Zhao shifts her gaze so Grandmother won’t see her expression.

“No one is beyond help,” I say, trying to convey confidence.

Grandmother’s lips form into a delicate smile. “Birds fly home to die, and foxes retreat to their burrows. Some things are inevitable.” She takes my hand and presses it to her left breast. Through the padding of her clothes, I feel a lump as hard as a rock. My brain skitters, trying to find a solution.

“There are formulas you can take—”

“Do you think I haven’t taken them already?” Grandmother asks. “For years? Until now I’ve kept the death demons in the shadows.” After a long pause, she adds, “If I could cut it out, I would. Hopefully, I have many months left.”

Grandfather buries his face in his hands. I’m trying to absorb this news but failing miserably. Grandmother was already long sick when she came to help me at the Hermitage. Knowing her time was limited, she came. Maybe that’s why she came. I try to get Grandmother to tell me more about her illness—what herbs she’s been taking, what suggestions for treatment Grandfather has had—but she deflects me, stating, “The time for all that is past.” Which, of course, is the opposite of saying she might have many months left.

I go deep within myself to find the strength and ability to help her. I’m driven by one thought. When I was a little girl, I couldn’t save my mother. I can’t cure Grandmother, but I can ease her journey to the Afterworld. Grandfather and I work together, looking through books and ledgers, trying to find ingredients that will dull her pain and settle her qi. Miss Zhao and I take turns spoon-feeding the medicinal teas we brew.

On the third evening, Grandmother motions for me to come to her after Miss Zhao escorts Grandfather from the room so he can get some sleep.

“Qi is finite, like a lamp’s supply of oil,” she recites in a weak voice. “Death is a sickness no one can cure.”

Her words lay bare the truth of the situation.

“You’re sad,” she continues. “I understand. But…” She closes her eyes, seeking strength. Then she once again recites. “It is impossible to change the fate time has allotted, for even the best banquet must end and the guests depart.”

“Grandmother…”

She struggles to gather herself. “I want you to have my books and medical supplies. Take special care of my copy of Profound Formulas.” She smacks the bed with her hand—a gesture made all the more important because of the effort it takes. “As you know, it is the last copy in existence. Study my notebooks, which are filled with my best treatments—”

“Grandmother, please. Let us have more days together.”

She shakes her head. “I wish I could give you that, but death is coming.”

My eyes tell me she’s right even as my heart struggles to accept it. I offer to get Grandfather.

“No,” she says, grabbing my hand and holding it with surprising vigor. “Just women…”

Before I can protest, she goes on. “If you memorize my formulas—as I taught you to do when you were a girl—I will die content.” She tells me of one notebook in particular in which she’s recorded her best successes. “Keep that one extra safe.”