Анна Аверьянова - The secret of the flying woman or the Confession of Tea Elder

It was then that Chen started realizing the desolate implications of the situation. He had a number of wives, and many daughters and sons. But his favourite wife had only one daughter. All the other children by her died in their infancy; after that she appealed to the nuns in the cloister, who gave her a herbal drink which made her unable to get pregnant.

The astrologists, who were invited upon the arrival of the daughter, were merciless. They refused the bounties offered to them in order to reserve the right to tell the truth. The estimations made on the basis of the date of conception and the date of birth undoubtedly showed that the only daughter by his beloved wife Fan had to die at the age of fifteen. But Fan was happy to hear even that, as all of her other children had not been able to live even a single full day. Bao was a reward to Fan, she was literally the greatest treasure Fan had in her life.

Fan was exceptionally beautiful, but rather simple-minded. She talked the astrologists into changing the date of her daughter’s birth so that the predictions could be favourable.

“What if the Gods see that date and give my daughter a chance?” thought Fan.

The astrologists, charmed by the beauty and guilelessness of the hostess, did what she was begging for. They wanted to soothe her pain. Chen, also, did not want to contradict his wife and allowed to be entered the re-calculated date of birth instead of the real one. One could not change destiny, but if one could give Fan some relief and soothe her pain caused by numerous losses, why not do that? The baby had fifteen years ahead of her, maybe something would happen that would help the little one survive.

The baby was growing feeble and was prone to illness, but she was dazzlingly beautiful, just like her mother. The sisters from the cloister visited Bao and helped her mother to cope with the problems. Bao loved the nuns, and they loved her dearly. They would bring her books, they taught her calligraphy and how to play the harp, and also the special exercises she could do to support life and energy in her feeble body.

Bao spent a lot of time reading books. She did not join the games of her sisters borne by the other wives. They were younger and spent whole days playing happily and carefree in the garden. However, she liked to watch how they would dress up in various clothes, wear masks and make up their faces with fancy designs, and perform funny skits. Later, when the servants came to wash them, they would scream, and laugh, and splash water at one another, and they also tried to reach for the tap and close it with their tiny fingers, so that the spurts of water reached everyone within three zhangs .

Their favourite pastime was to play a game called ‘Bride’. Some girls would climb into red sedan chairs, designed like little rooms with windows, decorate them with their dolls, toy birds, images of saints, multicoloured flags and ribbons with pompoms, and cover them with embroidered table cloths with colourful tassels on the sides. Then, having applied make-up and put on dresses of vibrant colours, they asked their servants to carry them in the sedan chairs along the alleys of the garden, while other sisters and servants were expected to play various musical instruments or pretend to be the bride-groom and his family.

That day they found somewhere a huge dusty cloth dragon, and climbed on it in order to scare the servants. The servants prostrated themselves; they were doing their best to demonstrate their sacred awe. It was not clear who enjoyed the game more.

At that very moment the main gate of the estate opened and a procession entered the courtyard. The stablemen rushed to the horses, the servants hurried to bring the sedan chair to take Missus Fan to her room. Mister Chen, darker than the night, went to his library, silent. He stopped, though, when he saw the little ones playing with the dragon, and gave a faint smile, but soon it gave way to a frown, and a tear slowly went down his dusty cheek. He bit his lip and hastened to the library.

“Once Missus Fan is ready, let her join me here.”

The servants hurriedly took the travel ‘armour’ off their master. He proceeded into his bathroom, where there was a cool rosemary bath waiting for him. It looked like a little swimming pool at the level of the floor, and the man slowly sank into it. The comforting, warm bitter smell of the ‘heart herb’ took away the weariness of the journey and set his heart at ease. The feelings of illness and uncertainty went away, but the anxiety remained.

Now Fan entered the bathroom. Chen signalled her to join him. The servants helped her to undress and descend into the bath by the slippery golden steps. From above, through the blue-and-purple-and-pink stained glass of the skylight which featured a lotus flower on still water, light filtered into the bathroom. A candle in a flat candlestick, was positioned in a little polygonal mirror niche, was filling the room with a special, joyful lighting enhanced in the reflection of several mirrors positioned at certain angles to each other.

The lengthy travel and their nervous tension whetted their feelings. Chen slowly raised his eyes and looked at Fan. His eyes were caught by Fan’s breezing. Her fluttering eyelashes were gently repeating the ups and downs of her chest. Rosemary helped increase blood circulation in her heart.

Soon their breaths merged into soft waves. Fan’s lips parted and her eyes dropped. Then Chen inhaled her breath and gently touched her hand. A slight blush suffused the pale cheeks of his wife. Her eyelids started trembling, but Chen was not hurrying to grant her his satisfying touch. Watching the tender waves of passion going over her delicate body made him smile with delight.

Suddenly Fan gripped her husband’s hand, digging with her sharp nails into it, and went still. Some moments later her lips parted again and a gentle smile shone on her face. Her body became soft and yielding. Chen drew her near and she embraced him with her legs, slightly slanting back and holding onto the gilded bars with her hands. Slowly and tenderly the jade baton touched upon its flower. The entry gate trembled, as if under an electric current, and welcomingly parted. The labia, like the palms of two hands, enfolded the gentle soft jade baton, pulling it deeper and deeper inside. Having swallowed the whole of it, they firmly enveloped it at its root, sending soft waves from the base to the top of the heavenly palace. The jade baton started growing bigger and stronger, tenderly screwing deeper and visiting every corner of his home. “Hello, my dear little hollow, how nice to see you, my lovely little hill. I am back home at last, my precious lips. I am back today, won’t you let me in? Ah, you are not willing today. That’s not nice, I am leaving…”

“Don’t leave!”

“No, now you have to wait. A little bit. However, yes, you softened my heart, I forgive you. I am coming back in …”

Incense and candles were noiselessly replaced by the servants. The water was as warm as new milk, but the time of Yin was coming, and the water was acquiring its dark force. Still embracing, they slowly moved to the cushions. The bath was emptied, capped with mosaic tiles and covered with a carpet. Servants, like bodiless ghosts, anointed the bodies of their master and mistress with rose oil and disappeared into the shadows. It was the beginning of a night of love…

The morning broke with loud warbling of birds. That morning’s cacophony could not be called bird singing – so many different birds were trying to outsing the other. Chen lay on the pillows and watched Fan smiling in her sleep. He signalled for tea to be brought. The nuns always recommended a small cup of tea at dawn. Fan opened her eyes.

In a little while they were sitting on cushions in their soft silk dressing gowns, a tiny tea table with two little cups made of paper-thin porcelain between them.