My Splendid Concubine (34 page)

“
Master,” Ayaou said to Ping, “we have cooked a humble meal and would be honored for you to share it with us before the lesson.”

Tee Lee Ping stopped and looked at Robert. His shaggy ey
ebrows bounced up and down twice and came to rest in a straight line. “Nice quality robe,” he said. Robert saw by the look in his teacher’s eyes that he wanted to know what was going on but was too courteous to ask.

“
Wearing this robe is part of my learning about how Chinese men think and act,” Robert said.

“
I didn’t know becoming Chinese could be so easy,” Tee Lee Ping replied.

“
You are attempting to be ironic,” Robert said. “That is not exactly what I meant.”

“
No, I’m serious. If I bought a suit of foreign clothes like those that you wear, maybe foreigners would treat me differently and with more respect. Isn’t that why you have now adopted the way I dress, so you can be treated better by the Chinese?”

Robert flushed. He didn
’t want to tell his teacher the reason. The robe was part of his plan to change his behavior. It was because of his desire to have two Chinese women as his lovers instead of one. “Why are you interested in how a British man behaves?” he asked.

“
Because Britain is a most powerful nation. I have studied the French, the Germans, the Russians, the Japanese and the Americans. None of these foreign nations controls such a vast empire as your Queen Victoria. A dream of mine is one day to travel to your country and live there for a time, so I can learn what makes the British more powerful than my nation and the others. That is why I learned English and teach the Americans and British how to speak Chinese.”

Robert sobered.
Master Ping was serious. He examined his teacher and saw that Ping was an inch or two shorter than his five foot eight inches. “You won’t find my type of clothes in China. They have to be ordered from England. I’ll give you one of mine. With a little alteration, which my girls can do, it should fit. That way you can experiment and see if you are treated differently.”

“
How could I accept such a gift?” Ping protested. “It’s too much.”

“
The answer is simple. Compared to my first teacher, you are excellent at what you do. When Ayaou selected you to be my teacher, she made the right choice. I cannot allow you to decline my offer. If you do, it will be a
loss of face
for me.”

“
That is most gracious of you,” Ping replied, and made a small bow to Robert.

The two men sat at the table while Ayaou and Shao-mei served. The mea
l was anything but humble. The variety amazed Robert. There was a chicken and the meat was cut. Sitting beside it was a large bowl of long noodles. There was a huge fish with its head and tail still attached. Another serving dish held sweet steamed cakes. There was a platter of dumplings with another plate holding peeled oranges and tangerines. It was more than the girls had cooked before. The usual meal was two dishes with rice.

“
Ayaou,” Robert said, “why so much food? We will be stuffed like elephants if we eat this.”

Master Ping held up a hand.
“Allow me to explain.” His eyes became animated and glowed as if he had discovered a treasure. “Let us turn this meal into an excellent lesson in what it is like to be Chinese. Tonight is a special occasion for your concubines. The Chinese love to eat, and food plays an important role in our culture. All the food on this table has symbolic meanings and is usually served during one festival or another.” He paused and looked around the table examining each dish as if he were judging a contest.

“
These are all lucky foods,” he continued. “Serving that entire chicken cut like it is symbolizes wholeness and prosperity. The longevity noodles symbolize a long life. Just don’t cut them while you are eating. If you cut them, it will spoil everything and having a long life will not be assured.”

Master Ping pointed at the fish.
“That symbolizes both a good beginning and ending for the year. It is customary for the fish to be served on the night of the Lunar New Year. This must be a special day as your concubines are marking this day as a beginning of a new year for your household.”

He stopped when he noticed Robert
’s face turning red again. His mouth opened in surprise as if some of his unasked questions about why Robert had decided to wear Chinese clothing had been answered. Then he cleared his throat, regained his composure and pointed at the plate of peeled tangerines and oranges. “The words for that sound the same as the words for luck and wealth and serving both has the same meaning. It is like asking that your future be filled with luck and wealth.”

“
What about the steamed cakes?” Robert asked, while he struggled to control his embarrassment. The meal the girls had cooked turned his teacher into a mind reader, but he wasn’t judgmental. If Ping had been British, Robert would have been shamed.

“
Oh, the steamed sweet cakes have many levels of meaning. The sweet rich flavor symbolizes a sweet life. You know, like much love and tenderness in the home.”

Robert lost control and blushed again, but Tee Lee Ping chose to ignore this, which Robert appreciated.
“The layers of the steamed cakes symbolize rising abundance. The round shape means a family reunion—in your case possibly the formation of a new family. Maybe one of your concubines will become pregnant soon.”

Robert avoided glancing at Shao-mei lest he give away her cond
ition.

They started to eat. Halfway through the meal, Master Ping said,
“I would not be surprised if there is a final dish that hasn’t been served yet.”

“
And what would that be?” Robert asked.

“
Eight Precious Pudding,” Master Ping said. “Eight is a lucky number, and the Chinese word for eight sounds like the word for fortune.”

He was right. It was
rice pudding filled with lotus seeds, Chinese red dates, cherries, candied fruits and red bean paste. By the time they finished eating, Robert was stuffed to the bursting point and had trouble breathing.

Afterwards, they moved to the study room.
“Let us start something new to add to our lessons,” Robert said. “Since you wish to learn more about my culture, I will tell you something equal to what you taught me about Chinese food.”

Tee Lee Ping scooted forward on his chair in anticipation.
“My ears are eager,” he said.

“
I’m going to tell you about the language of the flowers,” Robert said. “After our lesson ends tonight, remind me to lend you a copy of a book by an English author named Charles Dickens.” Robert explained that in Britain, unlike China, the moral values supported sexual repression. To get beyond this so you could speak what was in your heart without being judged immoral, the language of flowers had been born. If you wanted a member of the opposite gender to know how you felt, you sent a flower arrangement. They would answer you with another flower arrangement. No words would be spoken or written.

“
I believe I have an example that will clarify what I mean. If you passionately love a woman and want her to know, you send an arrangement made from orange and red flowers. If she didn’t love you, she would send back an arrangement of betony, marjoram, southernwood, and spiderwort.”

“
You’ve never given us flowers,” Shao-mei said, sounding disappointed.

“
Shao-mei,” Ayaou said, shocked. “You should not talk to our master like that.” When Robert glanced at her, he saw that her eyes also had disappointment in them.

A moment of uneasy silence
settled around the table. Then Master Ping rescued Robert. “So,” he said, “in Britain flowers are symbolic and full of meaning but food is only food?”

“
Yes, you could say that,” Robert replied. He focused on his teacher. “You will understand more after you read Charles Dickens. My country is a land of contradictions. On one hand there is this strict set of moral codes on how you are to live your life. We cannot call a leg a leg. Instead, if we are in mixed company with both men and women, we call a leg a limb like a branch on a tree. At the same time, prostitution exists along with child labor.” Robert saw by the confused expression on Master Ping’s face he was having trouble understanding.

“
Imagine a man wearing the most expensive suit of clothes,” Robert said in an attempt to clarify his meaning. “They are clean, pressed and made from the best cloth. However, beneath the clothing he has never bathed. His flesh is rotting.”

The c
onfusion left Ping’s eyes. He said, “I see. So Britain adorns itself with fancy coverings to hide the rot at its core.”

Robert nodded agreement.
“Most Western cultures do that,” he said.

“
China is no different,” Master Ping replied.

The lesson turned to the latest Chinese book Robert was rea
ding. He pulled out some drills in Chinese that Tee Lee Ping corrected. His teacher circled those that were wrong and wrote the correct versions beneath, which Robert accepted with grace. Having his mistakes corrected was the best way for him to learn how to write Chinese properly.

Ayaou hovered about watching. Shao-mei sat in a corner kni
tting a sweater. “In the future you should add a variety of stories for Robert to read, Master Ping,” Ayaou said. “Why don’t you introduce Robert to stories such as
The Western Chamber
?”

Tee Lee Ping looked sober and thoughtful but didn
’t say anything.

“
Are you willing to teach me
The Western Chamber
?” Robert asked, curious about the story. If Ayaou had mentioned it, there must be something that she wanted him to learn. Robert’s request earned a bright smile from Ayaou.

“
That will not be a problem,” Tee Lee Ping replied. “I planned to introduce it soon anyway. I promise to bring a copy to our next lesson.”

Tee Lee Ping stayed for two more hours. After he left, Ayaou and Shao-mei told Robert they couldn
’t wait any longer for their lesson. Robert had promised to teach them the meaning of a Chinese poem called
The Cheerless Tone
. The girls had already gone over the poem several times. They sat on either side of him. He was aware of their presence through the desirable heat of their bodies. It was distracting, but he managed to stay focused. They followed his finger as it moved from Chinese character to character. Robert took pleasure in the silky sound of their voices.

“Like molten gold appears the setting sun;

Evening clouds like blocks of jade pieced into one.

Where is the one close and dear to my heart,

From whom, without mental pain, I could
not part?”

Robert closed the book when they finished reading.

“
It’s a love poem,” Ayaou said. “I’m convinced of it.”

“
And why is that?” he asked.

“
Every line,” she replied. “In the first line he describes the sun like molten gold and gold is precious like love. In the second line he mentioned jade. It is also precious. And the third and fourth lines are so obvious.”

“
Ayaou is correct,” Shao-mei said. “What else could it be?”

“
What is the poet saying in the third line?” Robert asked. “Look again.”

Ayaou bent over the book and took a moment to find the right page. Shao-mei moved closer, and her head hovered next to Ayaou
’s as they studied the lines. “The poet is wondering where his lover is,” Ayaou said in a hushed tone. “Something horrible happened.”

“
Oh, it is so sad,” Shao-mei said. “The poet has lost his lover. My heart aches for him. If I were a man, I would learn to become a poet. My heart echoes with the verses. Women should write poems as men do.”

“
That poem,” Robert said, “was written by a woman named Li Qingzhao more than seven hundred years ago.”

That left their mouths hanging open.
“Tell us more, Robert. Did she write more poems? If so, read them. Did she lose her lover? What happened to her?” He read the entire collection of Li Qingzhao’s poems to them.

With the book back on the shelf, they moved to the kitchen. The girls brewed tea and carefully washed, sliced and peeled the skins fro
m apples. While they sipped tea and ate, Robert listened to the girls tell him about their day. Ayaou was happy with the price she’d paid for the fish. If Robert had been alone, his living costs would have been higher. With the girls doing all the shopping and negotiating, he was putting money aside and had enough to order books from England. He enjoyed keeping up with what was going on in the British Empire and the world.

Since Robert had started eating what his girl
s cooked, the digestion problems he’d suffered with since arriving in China had vanished. It wasn’t that he had been sick. It’s just that his stomach had ached and burned after he ate. The cure had started when the girls had stewed a pot of Shan-tung red dates. They insisted he drink a large bowl of the broth and eat the dates twice a day. They told him it was good for digestion. Who was he to argue? It worked.