Part 8: Cinderella and the Great Prince of Southern China

If you like old guys who deep are into baths, fine clothes, and aesthetics, you'll like this. If not, pay attention anyway.
-Pops

A Visit to Whispering Pine Estate

            “Master?”

            “Yes? What is it?” the old gentleman Whispering Pine replied to his manservant.

            “The Professor’s daughter, Miss Phoenix and her ‘friend’ are here to see you. She sent a message and a garment earlier?”

            “Ehhh,” the impeccably dressed Whispering Pine sighed heavily. “I detest unexpected, last-minute visits. Especially manipulating me with these one-time offers. This had better be good. She’s a brilliant one, that sprout, but can you imagine what her eye for the fashionable would target?”

            “I can’t begin to wonder sir.”

            “Still, that robe she sent. Lovely, lovely, lovely. What a red. I’ve never seen such a thing. How could such an ugly lump of a girl … but I must bite my tongue. Did you make up that infusion for her as I requested?”

            “It’s being served to her now.”

            “Thank Heaven. It’s still light out. Seat them outside, but put out some lanterns. The azure I think. And light a couple of censers. Seat them at the table where the blooms are the heaviest. This ‘friend’ Wang is male isn’t he?”

            “Yes sir.”

            “Physique?”

            “Rather like Little Panda but smaller, about your height.”

            “Age?”

“Mid-20s.”

“Face?”

            “Average. Dark.”

            “IN-teresting. Set up for a wet meeting.”

            “How many do you think?”

            “We’ll play that as it goes. I’ll move them indoors as soon as she has … uh … cleared her system.”

            He finished up his correspondence and then sat for time. I’ll keep them just a bit longer, he said to himself. He got up and paced. His eye caught the cut flowers in large vase in the hallway. That flower arrangement is not right, he thought. You train and you train the help, but they just don’t have the eye. Short, medium, tall, balance gaps with clutter. Set the primary focal point, then secondary, then tertiary.  Ah! That’s more like it, he muttered to himself stepping back to admire his work. That should be enough time.

            He proceeded to the sitting room. His arms flew up in a gesture of pleasant surprise and he adopted a broad smile on his face. “Darling! My little Birdie! It’s been too long and we’re only a street apart. So good to see you,” he gushed as he leaned down to give her a big kiss. “Mmmmwha. Oh, exquisite my dear,” he said admiring her outfit. “Very nice. Suits you well.” Nurse had put a formal robe on her for making a social call. “And who dressed you today?”

            “Nursie Zhang.”

            “Did she? Remember this ensemble. Can you do that for me dear? Come here dressed like that anytime.”

            “Why should I bother knowing how to dress when Nanny will do it for me?”

            “With that attitude, young lady, you will look only as well dressed as your father, and we know what at travesty he is. Is that what you want?”

            “Frankly I couldn’t care less.”

            Three was amazed at the level of rudeness and familiarity that passed between these two. He shot her a glance of caution, but she just brushed it off.

            “Your associate,” said Whispering Pine, “is waiting for you to exercise some common etiquette.”

            “Oh. This is Three, who I wrote you about. He’s from one of the southern provinces, the Eastern Expanse.”

            “I’m honored to be in your house. I am from the Jewel River Valley. I am the third son of Duke Wang.”

            “Really? Do you know Lady Qian? Fortune Daughter?”

            “Indeed I do. That reminds me. Lucky? You may stand by until you’re needed. Thank you.” The manservant took a bundle from Lucky and led Three’s servant into the house.

            “I know she moved to south for her health. She simply could not abide the frigid capital winters anymore.”

            “I would say she is not well, but she is stable.”

            “Well, that’s something. Give her my well wishes. Remind me to give you something to take to her before you leave. I understand you are a man of great learning. Come into my study. I make all of my scholarly guests inscribe their favorite couplets on a hanging scroll.”

            “Looking at some of the specimens you have on the wall, I would say that my pen is not worthy, but I would be most happy …”

            “I’m sorry,” said Toad butting in, “but Master Wang is in a hurry …”

            “Phoenix!” Three surprised himself at the intensity and bluntness that came out of mouth. He restated her name gently, “Phoenix, I think we are doing just fine with the time.” He grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze along with a nod of reassurance. He turned back to the host. “Since we are meeting on the occasion of a royal wedding, I think I have just the right poem.”

            The three of them entered a well-appointed studio. Toad shifted about nervously for Three as the two men talked endlessly about the forms of classical poetry, and then the quality of pig’s hair brushes, and then the absorbency of paper versus silk in taking ink. The household seemed to her a flurry of constant motion with slender young men taking turns bringing in various pens, ink, blotters, and other utensils that Whispering Pine called for. Finally, they adjourned for tea in the parlor where the men debated over the varieties of domestic teas that could be bought in the capital.

            Toad was quite acquainted with all the facts that made man a scholar as she had absorbed every book in her father’s library, but she could absolutely not understand the propensity of men to go on and on about the fine points of technique, craftsmanship, and prowess. It was such an absolute bore to her that she started to dress Three’s nails as he talked to Whispering Pine. She felt relief when Three changed the subject.

            “I will write out my favorite couplet as you requested earlier, but I feel inspired to compose something just for this meeting, if I may?” suggested Three. “Perhaps four sheets of paper?”

            “Quite ambitious. Most guests only fill two. And that’s after a good measure of wine has passed between us.”

            “Let’s start with the first page and see how it goes, shall we?” Words flowed effortlessly out of Three’s arm, and then he stalled on the last word. “That’s always the hardest one, isn’t it? I’m going to set this down and think about it bit.”

            “Indeed. In fact, let us go where I do my best thinking—in the bath.”

            “The day has been quite sultry. An excellent idea. Toad if you are too embarrassed, then ...”

            “I am coming with you. I am the ONLY ONE who will wash Master Wang,” she announced. She expected this was coming.

            “My, my. The little bird has turned into a tiger, ordering me about in my own house,” said Whispering Pine. “And aren’t you the protective one? What is this? A crush? Is it even possible for my little Toadie? You want to keep this one for yourself, eh? Well I never thought I’d see the day.” The usually oblivious Toad found herself blushing, but she set her stance between them, stayed silent, and denied nothing that was said.

            “Before I forget,” said Three, breaking the awkward silence. He reached into the pouch of his sleeve. “A small gift for your house,” he said as he brought out two trimly wrapped packets. “This is part of the cargo I brought up from the south. It’s best that it’s kept in a jar in a dry, dark, cool place. Please give it smell.”

            “That’s what I’ve smelling all this time. Why this is a full measure of cinnamon. And it’s so pungent. I’m overwhelmed. And these? Vanilla beans?”

            “Yes, it was fortuitous that a trader brought a shipment into my port before I set sail for the north.” The host clapped and handed off the gifts to be stored. They went to the bath and the manservant returned to undress his master. Toad, having made such a fuss, now had to undress Three. She had never done such a thing and copied the servant’s every move. The men stepped into the large tiled pool filled with heated water. Toad assisted the servant in applying scented bath salts.

            “Phoenix tells me,” said Three, “that you, the Headmaster, and the Emperor were all school chums as young bucks. Is that right?”

            “That was a long time ago, but yes.”

            “I understand that you served as the Minister of Ceremonies. Are you involved in any of the wedding event preparations?”

            “I have long since retired from those duties. They’re really a young man’s job, but so exciting! These days I draft imperial letters of introduction and reference. That’s where this young chip comes in. She is my international correspondence secretary. No one has the facility to write in as many languages as she—not even her father, the celebrated master of foreign tongues in the capital. She is invaluable, despite her extreme youth and inexperience in social graces.”
            “I’m getting in!” announced Toad, tearing off her clothes and hopping in. Before she did, Three got a good close look at Toad’s backside. On the left buttock he had previously seen a red birthmark that looked like a fresh burn, which had made him politely turn away focus, but here upon close inspection he saw that the mark was in the form of a feng huang bird, the phoenix—this was probably the source of her name.

            “Good heavens dear! Don’t splash!” admonished Whispering Pine to no avail. “She comes by her nickname in more ways than one,” he said to Three. The girl placed herself between them, wrapping her arms about Three’s torso to protect him from … something.

            “Uhm, Phoenix has become quite … fond of me which I appreciate greatly,” said Three. “We only just met at the Princess Banquet.”

            “I must say, you two have progressed quite quickly. I’m jealous and am calling for my own clinging vine then.” He called out and then a beautiful young man quickly appeared, stripped down, and entered the bath beside the older man, setting immediately to massaging his shoulders. “Thank you Clever. Your hands are ever the best.” The pretty young man whispered into his patron’s ear and the snuggled up on his shoulder.

            “Why Three, you devil. Clever tells me you and he have met before.”

            “Have we?”

            “He said you shared past lives in the ancient Xia Kingdom.”

            “Oh my heaven yes! The Evergreen Inn this morning. Clever, you’re Qi’s brother … or something …”

            “The Evergreen? Three, you are the man about town,” said Whispering Pine slyly. “Since you know Clever, I know which door you go in.”

            “I want you to know, sweet Baba,” said Clever, “that I held him in my arms. He’s quite strong. I did not have to let him win. You’d like him.”

            “With a recommendation like that,” said the older man, “how could this not be the start of something good?”

            “Clever,” said Three, “you’re not really Qi’s brother, are you?”

            “Just an actor trying to make a living,” said Clever.

            “Hush up you two,” said Whispering Pine, “you’ll wrong the magic of that enchanted castle. Three, your turquoise and emerald robe is exquisite, by the way. That dye work … simply amazing.”

            “The material is from one of the southern peninsular kingdoms. They have this stencil technique which is quite intricate. It’s my finest garment, except for the ceremonial robe that I will wear to the wedding, of course. We are about the same size. It would please me if you would take it. It was made for this trip and today is the only time I’ve used it.”

            “Oh I couldn’t possibly, that’s too extravagant of you,” said the host.

Three struck his chest four times. “My father the Duke would be most upset if it were learned that I displeased you. However, I should let you know, I’ve been informed that it is the color of the cuckold.”

“Pish if any of my favorites were not cheating on me, they would not be worth my time. Goodness knows I’ve given out more than I’ve gotten.”

“Yes, I see.” Three tried to politely laugh, though he was thoroughly appalled. Living a promiscuous lifestyle was something Three would never understand, whether it was his brothers’ or his host’s. He hoped his prudish sentiment didn’t show on his face.

The older gent nodded his approval and clapped three times. “Tea. And bring the sand table please.” Tea was poured and a tray layered with fine sand was brought to the bathers. In the tray was a pen-sized stylus.

            “We need to finish up that poem of yours Wang. Has inspiration come upon you yet?”

            “Here is my first thought,” said Three as he drew an elaborate character in the sand.

            “A fine word,” said the host, “but not very many people know it. So the meaning would be obscured. And so many strokes.”

            “I see what you mean,” said Three. “What would you suggest?” Whispering Pine shook the sand flat and wrote a different character, one simpler and much easier to read.

            Clarity and economy, virtues of the writer,” the older man posited.

            Toad despaired that Three would ever get around to making his sale offer as she watched the men endlessly debate the advantages and shades of meaning of one word over another to end this silly poem that Three had just made up. She thought, It really isn’t very good anyway—sounds like an insipid child’s rhyme. At least I am sitting here, with my arms around him, both pressed together, almost like lovers. I should just enjoy it. Father would be outraged, but what of it? He’s just a silly worm.

            The bath eventually ended, fresh linen tunic and robe was brought out and put on Three, and the two bid their farewells to Whispering Pine. The host said he would be sending over an urn to be given to his friend Lady Qian when Three returned home.

            Toad apologized as they made their way down the hill on which Whispering Pine Estate was located. “I’m so sorry. I thought he would be interested in buying your clothes. I don’t know anything about clothes, but he always likes bright colors and patterns. He’s a very weird man, if you can call him a man.”

            “Of course he’s a man. You saw all of his working manly parts didn’t you? And thankfully, we did not have to see his parts actually ‘working’ in their manly way,” he laughed and Toad averted her eyes. “You did fine, Little Lady,” said Three as he grasped her hand and pressed it to his belt.

            She gasped at first thinking that he might be making an advance on her, but she realized he was inviting her to assess the full purse that was on his belt inside the robe he had traded with her old neighbor.  She hadn’t even noticed he was not returning in the clothes he had gone in.

            “Ah! I get the rare opportunity to teach the little genius something. Gentlemen like him do not like to conduct commerce openly, even in their own house. They find it quite distasteful. His butler, however was actively talking with my Lucky in the next room, examining the merchandise. Whenever a youth came in to serve us, he was modeling something that the butler was unsure to be according to his master’s taste. We were signaling to our seconds with our claps and gestures. Do you recall the last word of my poem we were discussing?”

            “What of it? It was so boring listening to so much talk about a terrible poem.”

            “How many strokes are in that word?”

            She drew the character in the air with her finger. “Fifteen.”

            “How many pieces of cash do you feel in this purse?” She rolled her lips into a fish-mouth pucker as she realized it was the same number. “He liked and bought all four of my robes and paid a price dearer than I was expecting. I know he appreciated my discretion. He is not the first ‘eccentric’ that I have come to know. They are quite facile in the language of language, working in symbols and double meanings. Never let it be said that the study of poetics is not useful in the business world.”

            “But it’s only 15 coins,” said Toad.

            “It’s equivalent to about 350 silver, so we’re fine.”

            “Three? How do you know so much? You’re hardly that much older than the seniors at my father’s academy. And they’re all know-nothing worms.”

            “I don’t know that much really. You’re being kind. I just pay attention to what people say and more importantly, what they do. How did you know Whispering Pine would be interested in my clothes?”

            “Promise not to get mad if I tell you?”

            “Mad? Why would I get mad?”

            “It is because you dress like a woman.”

            “I do NOT dress like a woman. My robes are all masculine!”

            “But the materials … the colors, the patterns, they are not what men in the capital wear.” Three thought about all the bolts of cloth he got from his trading partners that he took to his tailor—fabrics ranging from Africa and India to the Southern Islands and beyond, fabrics he liked because they were different. She had a point—he did notice he got a lot of stares on the street.

            “So are we going to the Red Lantern now?” she asked with anticipation.

            “No. I am taking you home to your dinner and your bed. The Red Lantern is no place for a girl like you after dark. There’s a curfew too.”

            “Oh please? I want to see how it turns out.”

            “Thanks to you, young lady, it will be very boring. I will lay down coins and good ol’ Sergeant Do-Good will hand me a piece of jewelry and that will be the end of it.”

            “I doubt it,” said Toad warily. “You seem to attract the gods of misfortune.”

            “Your confidence in me is overwhelming. You asked how I know so much. Let me tell you, Misfortune is the greatest teacher a man can have. Trust the Power of Three. He is wise, as he is Misfortune’s best pupil,” Three laughed at himself. There it was thought Toad—she had made him smile. She could not help but keep smiling herself because he had not let go of her hand since taking it and he held it until he returned her home.

                                  © 2012 by Vincent Way, all rights reserved.