China by Edward Rutherfurd (latest novels to read TXT) 📗

“I hope,” said Mr. Yao politely, “that the next time we meet, General, you might tell us something of your distinguished military career. I know that you were engaged in the great struggle against the Taiping.”

“It is true that I fought the Taiping,” Guanji acknowledged, “but many others had far more interesting stories to tell than I have.”

“Were you ever in great danger?” Bright Moon asked.

“Any soldier is in danger,” Guanji said mildly, “because you never know what’s going to happen. You could be killed by a stray musket ball just as well as in hand-to-hand fighting. As for notable deeds, I don’t think I performed any.” He smiled. “I will tell you this: The only time I really thought I was going to lose my life, I won a single combat fight by sheer luck, which didn’t reflect any credit upon me at all.”

“Do tell us, General,” begged Bright Moon, “before we go.”

“Well,” said Guanji, “it was like this.” And he briefly told them of the fierce, snuff-taking general he had met when he was a young officer, and how they had gone from Zhapu to Hangzhou. He didn’t bother to tell them about the action and how he’d been wounded. He went straight to the moment of truth, when he’d come face-to-face with the Taiping officer.

“He was certainly quite a senior fellow in their army. But he looked more like a pirate, and he moved like a cat. I had a sword and he only had a knife. I’m not a bad swordsman, by the way. But from the way he handled that long knife of his, I knew I hadn’t a chance. ‘Prepare to die,’ he said. And as he came towards me, crouching and swaying from side to side, I thought, Yes, I’m going to die. Though I kept the point of my sword up, just in case. And then an extraordinary thing happened. The woman who’d been guiding me, who had hidden in the shadows, rushed out at him. It was just enough to distract him. So I lunged and I got him.” He grinned. “Then I ran away. I’m good at doing that, too.”

Mr. Yao laughed. “I think you’re far too modest.”

“But you killed him?” asked Bright Moon.

“Oh yes, I killed him.”

Mei-Ling was looking thoughtful. “What was the name of this senior officer?”

“I never discovered.”

“What did he look like?”

“Forty, perhaps. Going grey, but very lithe. And he had a scar.” Guanji traced a line on his cheek. “Like that. Why, could you have known him?”

“How would I know an officer in the Taiping?” Mei-Ling replied. “But I’ve seen pictures of some of them. None with a scar like that, though.”

“Well, whoever he was, the fellow I killed certainly had a scar.”

Soon after that, when they took their leave, the general was particularly gracious in saying how much he hoped to see Mei-Ling again while she was staying at the West Lake.

“I think,” Mr. Yao said to her on the way home, “that the general’s taken rather a fancy to you.”

—

Mr. Yao’s new boat arrived in the morning. It was very handsome. The beam was broad, with an awning over the midsection, and there were benches covered with cushions where ladies could sit in great comfort. Mr. Yao called Bright Moon and their children to inspect it. The children wanted to go out in the boat at once, but Mr. Yao would not let them onto the lake yet because, as the general had warned the day before, the sky was overcast, and there was enough wind to make the water choppy.

—

Mei-Ling felt tired and rested that morning; and it was noon before she came to the little jetty where the boat was moored. She saw that Bright Moon was there alone, staring out across the water. She could see at once why Mr. Yao would not let the family go out in the boat that day. It was flat-bottomed, capacious certainly, but with a shallow draft. A pleasure boat, good for fine weather only.

She came and stood beside her daughter. For a little while, neither spoke.

“You must not think of him,” she said quietly. “It’s all a game to him.”

“What is?”

“You. Even me. The other women he’s doubtless had. We are a hobby, like his collection.”

“He takes his collection seriously.”

“He studies us, too, just as he studies the seals. He discovers their patterns, their complexity. And you may be sure, they go to him willingly. I daresay that sometimes they think that it’s they who have seduced him. Yet in the end, to him, we are only good for a single purpose. Another stamp for private display in his collection. You are taken with him now, but it will pass.”

“Everything will pass.”

“Don’t let him destroy you—and your children.”

Her daughter was silent for a few moments. Then she remarked, “There will be a full moon tonight.”

“We shan’t see it.”

“If the clouds cleared and the wind dropped, we could go out on the lake.”

“No.”

“Was there something else about him, Mother?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. When he was telling us about his fight with the Taiping officer, I caught sight of your face. I saw something. I don’t know what.”

“You saw nothing.”

“I am going in now,” said Bright Moon.

But Mei-Ling did not go in with her. She remained alone on the jetty, staring over the water. She thought of Nio. It was Nio whom the general had killed. She was quite sure of it. All the circumstances fitted into place. All her instincts told her. Nio had died at the hand of this charming old seducer, who was threatening to destroy her daughter next.

—

Later that afternoon, the wind became stronger. The clouds were dark, thick as ever. Not a hint of the full moon, not even where it might be. By nightfall the wind was whipping the surface of the lake into a fury and rushing in under the awning on the shallow boat, which no one had