Along the River (28 page)

“But the book doesn’t say anything about Ah Zhao or Mei Lan. How can I tell you so much about them under hypnosis? Could I have been Mei Lan at one time?”

“There are a few possible explanations. For example, there’s a thing called a ‘false memory,’ where people think they remember an event, but it’s really an incident they’ve heard or read elsewhere. This can be triggered by trauma—such as your accident. But I have to say that the level of detail stored in your memory is extraordinary. Madame Wu and I have shown the transcript of this recording to a professor of history, and he recognized many of the people you mentioned.”

“That doesn’t make sense! How could I know their names under hypnosis without knowing them when I’m not under hypnosis?”

“Well…,” Dr. Allen began. Then he stopped and looked at Grandma Wu.

“Yes?” Grandma Wu prompted.

“Well, CC, as Madame Wu here keeps reminding me, there are many who might believe that you were remembering incidents from a life you led in the past.”

Grandma Wu took the book from Dr. Allen and opened it at the painting of
Along the River at Qing Ming
. She traced one of the figures with her finger. “See this man here? He has taken off his jacket and tied the sleeves around his waist. That’s something I do when the weather is either too hot or too cold and I can’t make up my mind. Eight hundred years ago, Ah Zhao or Zhang Ze Duan saw a man doing this and captured his image on silk. In addition, look at this same man’s posture: arms folded in front, shoulders thrust back, feet apart. That’s my posture exactly! That’s how I like to stand! Was this man my ancestor? Am I his descendant? Do I look like him? Who knows? If two people born eight hundred years apart can choose to carry their jackets and fold their arms while standing in exactly the same way, why can’t you believe that CC was a young girl named Zhang Mei Lan during the Song Dynasty? Instead of inheriting Mei Lan’s features, or the way she carries her jacket, CC inherited some of Mei Lan’s memories. Why is that impossible? Many people, such as the Tibetans, believe in re-incarnation. At death, a person’s essence doesn’t vanish forever. It passes on to another. Just like a dying candle lighting a new one. Even if you don’t believe that the Dalai Lama is the reincarnated God of Compassion, isn’t rebirth a happier way of looking at death?”

“That makes a lot of sense,” CC said. “But it means Mei Lan and Ah Zhao would have really lived at that time, as well as people such as Tong Guan, Cai Jing and Cai You.”

“I think Madame Wu has some theories of her own on that score.” Dr. Allen turned to look at Grandma Wu. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes! I’ve had some time on my hands these last few weeks, so I started doing research on the Song Dynasty. Through my new friend Jiang Fei Fei, the woman in black whom you first saw at the market, I met a retired university historian named Professor Yu who lives here in Feng Jie. He informed us that many of the names you mentioned under hypnosis are well-known historical figures. According to the official Standard History of the Song Dynasty, Cai Jing was indeed Huizong’s Prime Minister, and Tong Guan his military commander. The Buddhist Iron Pagoda mentioned by Mei Lan still exists. There were also a few Buddhist nuns of that era who wrote and published poems and lyrics. It’s entirely possible that Mei Lan was one of those nuns.”

“What about Ah Zhao?” Dr. Allen asked. “Were there Jews living in China so long ago?”

“Absolutely. There’s evidence that a few Jewish merchants travelled to Kaifeng
, which was formerly called Bian Liang, around that time, to trade cotton goods for silk. The Song Emperor was so pleased with the cloth He received that He allowed the Jews to use His royal surname of Zhao, as well as the surnames of His favorite ministers.”

“How sad that Ah Zhao and Zhang Mei Lan didn’t end up together!” CC said.

“Oh I don’t know…” Grandma Wu looked thoughtful. “I like to think that Ah Zhao got away that night and eventually fulfilled his dream of retracing his father’s footsteps and discovering his heritage. In any case, he left behind this brilliant painting. By the way, I want to show you something else that’s simply amazing!”

Grandma Wu flipped the book over and showed CC a poem printed on the last page. “It says here that this poem was written by a Northern Song Dynasty Buddhist nun named Fo Ni
. My historian friend, Professor Yu, tells me that Fo Ni was the religious name of Zhang Mei Lan, sister of the famous court painter Zhang Ze Duan. Imagine Mei Lan’s poem being published in the same book as the photo of Ah Zhao’s painting! How many couples get to have their creative work exhibited together, centuries after their deaths? So, in a way, they have been united after all!”

CC nodded thoughtfully as she turned the pages from the poem to the painting, then back again to the poem.

What we call “death” is really a beginning
“The end” is just another term for being born
Every life is a commencement but also a close
Every epitaph a lullaby

“What a beautiful poem!” CC exclaimed. “It feels so good to look at this painting without that awful feeling of déjà vu that troubled me before. Thank you a million times, Dr. Allen.”

Grandma Wu nodded with satisfaction. Then she got up slowly and stretched. “I’ve been sitting still for far too long. It’s time for me to do some
tai chi
exercises. Now that CC has made a full recovery, Dr. Allen, is it all right for me to take her to Chungking as soon as I can get boat tickets? My son is waiting there for us with our three other young charges: David, Sam and Marat.”

Dr. Allen nodded. “We’ll miss you both. I hope you’ll come back and visit, but I know these are dangerous times. I can’t help feeling there will be other difficult journeys ahead for all of us.”

Grandma Wu smiled. “It’s the journeys we take in our lifetime that make us who we are.”

“I hope Big Aunt is happy, wherever she is on her journey,” CC said wistfully.

Grandma Wu looked at CC over the top of her glasses. “Don’t forget the wonderful poem you just read. ‘What we call death is really a beginning.’ Your Big Aunt had a great capacity for happiness. I’m sure that remains true, wherever she is now.”

“I’m going to copy that poem in my diary,” Dr. Allen said. “It will give my terminal patients a lot of comfort to learn it by heart.”

“Thank you, Dr. Allen and Grandma Wu,” CC said. “I owe a lot to both of you. I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me.”

“No, CC! Trust me! I should be thanking you and Grandma Wu instead!” Dr. Allen said. “Besides learning a lot of history of the Song Dynasty, I also discovered a whole new way of looking at the world. I used to think there was a logical, scientific explanation for everything—especially medical problems—and that death was something
final:
the absolute end.”

CC looked up at him. “So what do you think now?”

Dr. Allen laughed. “In the words of Ah Zhao himself,
you he bu ke?
Is anything impossible?”

About the Author

Adeline Yen Mah was born in Tianjin, China, and trained to be a doctor in London. She has had a distinguished career in medicine in the United States for many years. Her memoir for adults,
Falling Leaves
, was a worldwide bestseller and was translated into eighteen languages.
Chinese Cinderella
is her memoir for young adults. Adeline divides her time between Los Angeles, London, Shanghai, and Hong Kong. Visit her at AdelineYenMah.com.

ALSO BY ADELINE YEN MAH

FOR YOUNG ADULTS
Chinese Cinderella
Chinese Cinderella and the Secret Dragon Society
China: Land of Dragons and Emperors
FOR ADULTS
Falling Leaves
A Thousand Pieces of Gold
Watching the Tree

How to Pronounce
Chinese Words

Most of the Chinese words and phrases in this book are pronounced as they are written in English. However, here’s a short guide on how to say some of the trickier words:

Glossary of
Chinese Words

Numbers

yi	1
er	2
san	3
si	4
wu	5
liu	6
qi	7
ba	8
jiu	9
shi	10