Li Ang - The Lost Garden

Pulling her tightly into his arms, he said:

“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do what’s right.”

At that moment, he obviously had no idea how to react to a self-possessed woman who wanted nothing from him, and all he could do was instinctively mumble a promise.

A few days later, he put all business aside and returned with Yinghong to spend some time at Lotus Garden. In the cassia grove on a hill, in his usual conceited tone, he asked her to marry him.

With an evident decline in the real estate business, construction companies had stopped or delayed work on new projects, which in turn cooled a market that had already been leveling off. While staying at Lotus Garden, Lin continued to run the company in Taipei via telephone, but showed no sign of anxiety over the situation, for he knew he had the edge over the others. The large amount of ready cash meant he could re-launch when the moment was ripe, particularly because, in his estimation, this was just the beginning of the depreciation of the housing market; he had all the time in the world to wait it out.

Because of the certainty of his future success, he held off on new projects and gradually finished the old ones.

“We must wait now so we can maintain our edge over others.”

He explained this to Yinghong in a decisive but calculating voice. But he sent secret messages to reliable and viable real estate brokers, who would immediately notify him if they knew of any real estate firm with a shaky financial structure that could no longer hold out and must sell its land units at a low price.

Which was why he had lots of free time while staying at Lotus Garden. The decay in the dying garden bothered him and made him uneasy.

At the time, the tallest structure, Sea-gazing Tower, had suffered damage during an earthquake that destroyed the top floor and reduced the bottom floor to broken walls. Several typhoons over the past few years had blown the roof tiles off most of the pavilions, towers, and terraces, including the second story of Lotus Tower, which leaked every time it rained. Only Flowing Pillow Pavilion, under the aging Luohan’s painstaking care, managed to retain its original form and remained habitable.

In the beginning, Lin followed her around the garden and watched as she devoted her time to various tasks: picking up fallen wood carvings from the windows and putting them away after carefully noting the location; reinforcing the finials on posts; and giving additional support to slanting doorframes to hold up a wall.

He lent a hand with some of the physical labor but couldn’t help noticing the obvious changes in her. The most inescapable sign was that he was no longer the center of her world and that she had stopped planning her schedule around him. In fact, the decision to return to Lotus Garden was hers alone. Now what he liked or disliked no longer dictated what she said; worse yet, she didn’t seem to care what he said either.

In the moonlight on a chilly winter night, when they were looking at shadowy trees and waist-high weeds, he joked, as an attempt to recapture a topic from the time she lived in Taipei:

“There’s something funny about you, you know. No matter where you go, there will be a garden choked full of weeds, one that scares you.”

She smiled serenely, saying nothing in response.

Her changes extended even to the way she dressed. Shedding the alluring, feminine clothes he’d preferred, she switched back to the black and white she’d worn back when they first met. What remained was only the delicate lace trim adorning the hems of white skirts, the collars of black sweaters, and the sleeves of white blouses.

Mudan came back to Lotus Garden with her, where she cooked the daily meals and helped clean up the garden. With Luohan, the two women shared an intimate relationship and memories about the garden, which often made Lin uncomfortable. Mudan and Luohan were the only two servants left, but everything about their old-fashioned loyalty, manner, and style reminded Lin of Yinghong’s highborn pedigree, even though he’d always known that she came from the renowned Zhu family.

He’d planned to return to Taipei after a few days at the garden, but was apprehensive about the distance that had begun to grow between them, as Yinghong slowly regained her self-awareness and superiority. He delayed his departure for fear that all ties would be severed if he left and she would be beyond his reach again.

In order to while away time at a place with no clubs or piano bars, he began to roam the long-deserted garden. At first he didn’t think he would have trouble finding his way around, because he had spent years in the construction business and had always prided himself on his sense of direction. But once he began, the garden seemed to transform itself into a maze mired in confusion. He didn’t know the various structures to begin with, and now they all seemed to look the same in their dilapidated state. Often he would think that he had traveled quite a distance, only to realize that he had been going in circles around a few pavilions and courtyards.

One afternoon, he took off again, but this time, using the height of Lotus Tower as a landmark, he was able to make it back to Flowing Pillow Pavilion, where Yinghong was going through the cameras stored in large camphor trunks. He took her by the arm.

“I seem to go round and round in the garden, wasting time and energy. But I won’t accept defeat. Come, let’s go to the hill in the back and look at the design. I refuse to believe there’s anything special about it.”

She smiled faintly and gracefully got to her feet to lead the way.

When they reached the Jiaping platform by Flowing Pillow Pavilion, she turned right onto a small path; then she led him around the artificial rocks and trees, before moving on by taking a winding verandah by Long Rainbow Lying by the Moon.

Lin stopped by Long Rainbow Lying by the Moon. The hill was now behind Lotus Tower, which was separated from Flowing Pillow Pavilion by a large lotus pond. The location told him that they should be walking in the opposition direction from the verandah. So, ignoring Yinghong, he took off down the path from the verandah, hoping to reach Lotus Tower ahead of her. The path was overgrown with weeds, but stones still showed signs of foot traffic; carefully he followed the flagstones, but the path twisted and turned to the point that he was getting farther and farther away from Lotus Tower and soon ended up in the small yard by Authenticity Studio.

He was flustered, but reluctant to backtrack. Then he noticed another verandah by Authenticity Studio, which, in his estimation, should have been connected to the others in the garden. So he walked across the yard, but when he got to the other side, he saw a low lattice wall blocking his access to the verandah. No matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t locate a break in the wall; all he found was a moon gate on the opposite side, by Authenticity Studio, but it was unclear where it would lead.

The crumbling wall, which reached only to his shoulder, had decorated openings with visibly identifiable bat designs. Tall and long limbed, he would have jumped over the wall if not for the imposing air the dilapidated garden still possessed. He looked around before finally deciding to retrace his footsteps.

When he got to Long Rainbow Lying by the Moon, he saw Yinghong leaning against a railing post, her white dress fluttering in the cold winter wind. Obviously, she’d known he’d have to backtrack, which was why she calmly and quietly waited for him.

Seen from the hill, the crumbling Lotus Garden structures, camouflaged by the lush vegetation, showed no sign of decay. The vibrantly green trees and plants spread and wove themselves into a verdant ocean to embrace the fading buildings and cover the disintegrating eaves and rooftops. A sweet, quiet, and serene kingdom was created, where time seemed to stop, and the garden, surrounded by the sea of trees, would awaken from a deep sleep a hundred years later.