Sunday, September 22, 2013

Part 10A - Cinderella and the Great Prince of Southern China


Hello readers,

Sorry, it's been a while. Was on vacation, had to finish a UCLA Extension course, took a few guqin lessons, but I'm back on track to mount up this kooky little story for you. This is just the first part of what I'm calling Part 10. Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a comment.

Love,
Pops



The “Great” Battle of Shan Jing (Mountain View) Academy

            Lucky was cold and sore from spending the night at the entry gate to the palace delivery entrance where he had come before. He appreciated his master’s sentiment in caring for his aging back and joints—especially of the hot baths that he was able to avail himself at the Headmaster’s estate. Lucky knew such largess would not last. It never did, so he learned to savor such fleeting luxuries. Young Master would be on to his next pressing concern with the next dawn, nay, even the next hour. Such enterprise was a glaring contrast to his father, the bumbling, sleepy old Duke. “You must get this to Qi, Madame Cui’s assistant, tonight! Do not return until you are satisfied it is accomplished,” the Young Master had ordered him. Three was indeed a tiring man to attend.
            All in all, thought Lucky, it’s better than sleeping on a cold boat at sea. Brrrrr. How good a life one has is only a matter of perspective and context, he mused. Had I become a mendicant monk rather than a Duke’s head retainer, I might be envious of the life I have now, though in circumstance at this moment, we are exactly the same. Lucky heard stirrings within the gate as the Dawn Patrol started to come on. He lamented that he had broken the night, but what else was to be done?
            “Old Man,” said the freshly appointed guard, “What are you doing here again?”
            “Early Morning! Did the graveyard-shift guard deliver the message?”
            “He didn’t say a thing about it in his report. Is this another one for your imaginary friend, Qi, the kitchen supervisor? If it is, then that’s why the night guard ignored you. There is no such person. There is only Madame Cui and her superior minister who oversee palace support operations.”
            “Then how is it my master met with her yesterday for lunch?”
            “Your master is then either a ghost or a lunatic.”
            “You saw him yourself later the day you and I first met, in the flesh. So if he be a ghost, you are mayhaps the lunatic?”
            “I’ll have you know, Old Man, that I am sane, sober, and sound of body.”
            “Such soundings report the shallowness of a mere bachelor. Then you be not husband nor father then?”
            “How do you know such a thing?”
            “I am both of the latter, and none of the former. The three virtues you hold are both prerequisite and price for the prize of the later two.”
            “Are they such prizes then?”
            “Wife and children stole all from me. If it were a good bargain, time has yet to tell me. Even so, the world we know would soon end if we men did not pursue such things. ’twould be lunacy to discourage them.”
            “And yet it is a kind of lunacy to do so.”
            “And to your query, my son, ‘Is my master a lunatic?’ To the extent that all men are who would pursue a woman, he is.”
“I cannot put my sword to my shield and deny that.”
“So I say if you value your virtues, pray peruse young wives rather than pursue them.”
            “But where’s the virtue in that?”
            “Granted your virtue may be compromised, but your values will be intact.”
            “My values?”
            “The worth of your purse, appertained, perused, and pursued by subtle maidens and their grasping fathers.”
            “You, Sir, obviously have nothing of the romantic in you.”
            “I am too old to have such notions. It is the job of maidens to suggest that at least some part of a romantic will eventually get INTO THEM.”
            “You are a sly fellow. Lucky for you, you remind me of my own crazy old uncle, otherwise I’d thrown you out long ago.”
            “Then so am I Lucky for you, and Lucky for your kindness.”
            “Give me your damn message, Old Man. I’ll deliver it to Madame Cui. Though I happen to know the wench she passed it to, the one who obviously ensnared your besotted master into being her yesterday’s midday snack.”
            “Thank you, I am greatly in your debt.”
            “Don’t thank me. Great debt is precisely where your master is heading if he continues to correspond with the fair Lady Silver Bird of whom I speak—golden daughter of the capital’s great paragon of harsh justice. Though as rarely beautiful as a peony, she’s as wanton as a monkey, furious as a thunderstorm, and as dangerous as a white asp to men. There is nothing but trouble ahead for this young man if he persists in being her plaything. Are you SURE you want me to deliver your message? You’ve spent a hard night on our cobblestones because of her already.”
            “Eh? Young man? At my age, a ‘hard’ night for the sake of a woman would only be a blessing. As for my master, the fire of lust knows how it must burn and take its course. Who are we to stand in its way? It may be the only way that we men can ever attain purity, eh?” So Lucky stated his master’s message and left, satisfied it would be received.

* * *

            Silver Bird was uncharacteristically sitting with Seven at her station in the kitchen—she hated the sounds and smells of mass food preparations. The whole business made eating so unappetizing what with all the chopping and blood. And it was so hot and humid in the kitchen! She felt it was necessary, however, to keep a close eye on her assigned royal. They had come down at mid-morning. Seven sat picking through and shelling peas that she would prepare for her evening meal. Silver Bird had brought down some embroidery work to pass the time.
            A member of the security force came by and spoke, “Excuse me my lady” said the guard to Silver Bird, “and to you too, Your Highness. I have a message that was left by the same old retainer that brought a note a few days ago to Madame Cui.”
            “An old retainer you say? For me?” asked Silver Bird.
            “Not for you personally, but it was for some imaginary kitchen supervisor Qi.” Seven immediately perked up. The guard continued, “I kept telling him there is no such person. I believe you relayed that past message to someone?”
            “Where is it?” asked Seven.
            “Where is what?” asked the guard.
            “The message. The note.”
            “Your Highness, he gave the note last night to the Graveyard Shift, who apparently trashed it for the work of a fool.”
            “Can you retrieve it?” asked the Princess.
            “I can do better than that. He he told me what to say. It was: ‘Should I fear the Eunuch Red Beard? Please advise how to proceed by noon. I am at Mountain View Academy.’”
            “He was here?” asked Silver Bird.
            “The old fool spent the night at the gate.”
            “Did you tell him anything?” she asked further.
            “I told him for what my opinion was worth, EVERYONE should fear Red Beard, and likewise everyone should proceed cautiously as he removes heads on the spot and asks questions later.”
            “Thank you guard,” said Silver Bird. “If he ever shows up again, no matter the hour, please fetch me.” The guard moved onto his regular rounds. Seven dragged Silver Bird off into the cloak room.
            “Fate be merciful,” said Seven, “this is NOT good.”
            “Why would Red Beard be contacting Three?”
            “I’ve done him a very bad turn,” said Seven. “That pendant I gave him? Reciprocating for the one he gave me?”
            “What of it?”
            “I forgot that Red Beard audits the inventory of such things in the women’s quarters. He’s probably noted it missing. He’s traced it to Three is the only thing I can think of.”
            “How would he know that?”
            “He has spies all over town. He knows everything about everything. Except ME.”
            “Let’s just go pay Red Beard a visit and explain why Three has it then,” said Silver Bird.
            “Then I will have to explain how I got off the Palace proper. Twice. I’ll be locked up in my chambers.”
            “Then do it. You owe it to Three.”
            “But if I do that, I’ll lose two methods of exit. And Slouchy may forfeit his life. Maybe you too.”
            “Gods! I didn’t think about that.”
            “Let me think this through,” said Seven. “What is Red Beard really after? He knows that Three has my pendant, but he doesn’t know how he got it. He probably doesn’t suspect Three of stealing it, but that he probably bought it as stolen property and wants him to divulge whom he got it from so that person can be punished.”
            “I like the sound of that—you being punished, that is,” said Silver Bird.
            “Hush. I’m thinking. So all I need to do is get Three to name me, Apprentice Kitchen Supervisor Me, as the accomplice, and he will leave Three alone. At some point Red Beard will come to me in private as part of his investigation and I’ll just confess at that time and give him some elaborate game of disguise, which he DOES know I engage in at times, that was accomplished at the Princess Banquet when our paths crossed.”
            “Sounds elaborate and you haven’t filled in all the details,” Silver Bird admonished, “you’re bound to forget something. Say that you do recite exactly in a logical manner … and believably, why would you have done this disguise game?”
            “Because I found him attractive from across the room and decided to play the flirtatious made one last time before marrying?” suggested Seven.
            “That is NOT you. That’s ME. So then, your answer to his follow up on why you would do that?”
            “Because I am the stupid, pampered, spoiled, selfish girl he believes all of us princesses to be.”
            “THAT could work. Except how do we advise Three of this contorted plot of yours?”
            “It’s too much to put into writing, there’s not enough time, and a script could get lost and fall into the wrong hands. Remind me. Has he ever met you such that if I send you over, he would know you and trust a message from you?”
            “NO. Thanks to Golden Talent, and you and your subterfuges, I’m not a person but a simply a type to him. He thinks I’m twenty different women.”
            “Then I’ll keep it simple. I’m going there myself in disguise and giving him instructions in the simplest way possible.”
            “Forget the disguises! How about we just go as ourselves, reveal you are the Princess Seven, he gives you back the pendant, you put it back in your collection, and we’re done with this whole illusion you’ve created.”
            “We can’t do that. I’m still not allowed to leave the Palace except for religious or state purposes. And we can’t use the ‘Slouchy Trick’ two times in as many days—it’ll be suspicious. Plus, I don’t want to do that to Three.”
            “Do WHAT to Three? You’ve deceived him. You’ve had him lose a lot of money. You’ve got him implicated in a felony. Haven’t you done enough to the poor guy?”
            “He thinks it’s possible to actually marry me. Not the Princess Me, the real me.”
            “Hey surprise, the Princess You IS the Real You.”
            “Shut up. That’s the only thing I’ve been able to give him. That thought. I will be the ideal woman in his mind until the day he dies. I don’t want to take that away from him.”
            “My! How generous of you. He’s a practical man. I’ve seen enough of him. He’ll cut his losses fast and not nurse fantasies like some half-cooked romantic, like you. Besides, you did give him the pendant.”
            “He’s not going to keep it much longer. Come on. Help me play this out to a successful conclusion. We’ll get there by subterfuge. I’ll try to solve it my way, and then, sigh, if that doesn’t work, I’ll reveal myself if necessary. I’ll get locked up the rest of my days here in the capital, but I swear I’ll say I forced you and Slouchy to do what I told you and beg the Emperor for clemency if necessary.”
            “Seven! I SWEAR,” said Silver Bird. “How did I get myself into this? I’m in so deep.”
            “You said you wanted something to gossip about. I’m giving you plenty.” Seven rose and went over to the supervisor, “Madame Cui? Silver Bird and I are going down to the wine cellars for a while.”
            “While you’re there,” said Cui, “be a dear and select and flag some wine for the Ambassadors Circle for the porters to bring up. Do you know where everything is?”
“I’ll handle it,” said Seven nodding. She made a quick visit to the spice pantry, grabbed keys and candles, took Silver Bird by the hand, and pulled her to the cellar doors.
            “What are you doing?” said Silver Bird.
            “WE, both of us, go down the front stairs, BUT you come up the back stairs with a delivery boy who is carrying bottles for an official event at the residence of your father, the esteemed judge.”
            “How are you so fast at thinking these things up?”
            “Practice, my dear, practice.” Seven patted herself on the bosom. “See, there is an advantage to not having a large chest. And this kind of thing is so much easier when you have a confederate! I don’t know why I didn’t exploit you this way before.”


                                  © 2012 by Vincent Way, all rights reserved.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Be truthful and frank, but be polite. If you use excessive profanity, I'll assume you have some kind of character flaw like Dr. Wong. Tks!