Lisa See - Peony in Love

There were . . . problems, and this ceremony didn’t happen. Peony . . .

she was—” He took his fingers away from the sill, turned to face his wife, and said, “She would never harm you. I know that, and you should too.

But you are right about the others. Let us have a ghost marriage and remove the impediment the others think surrounds you.”

I covered my face and silently wept in gratitude. I had waited— longed —

for a ghost marriage almost from the moment I died. If this came to pass, my ancestor tablet would be brought from its hiding place. Someone would see it wasn’t dotted and finally fill in what was missing. When that happened, I would no longer be a hungry ghost. I would finish my journey to the afterworld and be transformed into an ancestor, the honorable and venerated first wife of the second son in the Wu clan. To have this be suggested by my sister-wife filled me with more happiness than I could have ever thought possible. To have Ren—my poet, my love, my life—

agree was like having pearls poured into my heart.

i at tac h e d myse l f to the matchmaker and went with her to the Chen Family Villa to observe the negotiation for my ghost bride-price. Baba had finally retired and come home to the one place he could enjoy his grandsons. He still looked proud and sure, but just under that I sensed that my death continued to haunt him. Although he couldn’t see me, I knelt before him and performed obeisance, hoping that some part of him would accept my apologies for ever having doubted him. When I was done, I sat back and listened to him try to negotiate a new—and higher—bride-price than the one he had agreed to when I was alive, which at first I didn’t understand.

The matchmaker sought a lower one by appealing to his sense of qing.

“The Eight Characters were matched for your daughter and the second son of the Wu family. They were a match made in Heaven. You shouldn’t ask for so much.”

“My price stands.”

“But your daughter is dead,” the matchmaker reasoned.

“Consider the increase interest on time passed.”

Naturally, negotiations failed and I was disappointed. Madame Wu did not like the matchmaker’s report either.

( 2 3 5 )

“Order me a palanquin,” she snapped. “We are going back there today.”

When they reached the Chen Family Villa and stepped from their palanquins into the Sitting-Down Hall, servants hurriedly brought tea and cool cloths to refresh their faces from the journey around the lake.

Then the two women were led through courtyard after courtyard to my father’s library, where he lounged on his daybed with the youngest of his grandsons and nephews climbing over him like tiger cubs. He sent the children off with a servant, strode to his desk, and sat down.

Madame Wu sat in the same chair across from my father’s desk that I used to occupy. The matchmaker took a spot just behind her right shoulder, while a servant came to stand by the door to await my father’s commands. He smoothed his forehead and ran his hand down the length of his queue just as he had when I was a young girl.

“Madame Wu,” he said. “It’s been too many years.”

“I don’t go on excursions anymore,” she replied. “The rules are changing, but even when I did, you knew that meeting with men was disagreeable to me.”

“You have served your husband and my old friend well in this regard.”

“Friendship and loyalty are what brought me here today. You seem to have forgotten that you promised my husband that our two families would be joined.”

“I never forgot that. But what could I do? My daughter died.”

“How could I not be aware of this, Master Chen? I’ve seen my son suffer from this loss every day for over twenty years.” She leaned forward and tapped a finger on the desk as she spoke. “I send a go-between to you in good faith and you send her back to me with outlandish demands.”

Baba negligently leaned back in his chair.

“You’ve known all along what needed to be done,” she added. “I came to you many times before to negotiate.”

She had? How had I missed that?

“My daughter is worth more than what you’ve offered,” Baba said. “If you want her, you’ll have to pay for her.”

I sighed in understanding. My father still valued me.

“Fine,” Madame Wu said. She pursed her lips and her eyes narrowed.

I’d seen her irritated with Ze, but women weren’t allowed to get angry at men. “Just know that this time I won’t leave until you agree.” She took a breath, and then said, “If you want a higher bride-price, I will need some additional items for her dowry.”

This seemed to be exactly what my father wanted. They bartered. They ( 2 3 6 )

traded. He made a higher demand for the bride-price; Madame Wu reciprocated with an even more outlandish one for the dowry. They both seemed very familiar with the offerings, which was shocking because it meant they had had this conversation many times before. But then the whole thing shocked me . . . and surprised and delighted me.

When it seemed they’d finally reached an agreement, my father suddenly threw in something new.

“Twenty live geese delivered ten days from now,” he said, “or I won’t agree to the marriage.”

This was nothing, but Madame Wu wanted something more in exchange.

“I seem to remember that your daughter was meant to come with her own servant. Even now someone will have to care for her through her ancestor tablet when it comes to my home.”

Baba allowed himself a smile. “I was waiting for you to ask.”

He motioned to the servant standing by the door. The servant left the room and returned a few minutes later with a woman. She came forward, dropped to her knees, and kowtowed before Madame Wu. When she looked up, I saw a face worn by hard circumstances. It was Willow.

“This servant recently returned to our household. I made a mistake when I sold her many years ago. It’s clear to me now that her destiny has always been to care for my daughter.”

“She’s old,” Madame Wu said. “What am I going to do with her?”

“Willow is thirty-nine. She has three sons. They stayed with her previous owner. His wife wanted sons and this one gave them. Willow may not be much to look at,” Baba said practically, “but she could serve as a concubine if you need one. I can guarantee she will produce grandsons for you.”

“For twenty geese?”

My father nodded.

The matchmaker grinned. She would make a good profit from this.

Willow crawled across the floor and put her forehead on Madame Wu’s lily feet.

“I’ll accept your offer on one condition,” Madame Wu said. “I want you to answer a question. Why didn’t you give your daughter a ghost marriage before this? One girl died because of your refusal to entertain my offers. Now the life of one who carries my grandson is threatened. This was something easy to mend. A ghost marriage is common. It alleviates so much trouble—”

“But it wouldn’t help my heart,” Baba confessed. “I couldn’t let go of ( 2 3 7 )

Peony. All this time I’ve longed for her company. By keeping the tablet in the Chen Family Villa, I felt I was still connected to her.”

But I was never here with him!

My father’s eyes clouded. “All these years, I hoped to feel her presence, but I never did. When you sent the matchmaker today, I decided it was finally time to let my daughter go. Peony was meant to be with your boy.

And now . . . It’s strange, but I feel her with me at last.”

Madame Wu sniffed dismissively. “You needed to do the right thing for your daughter, but you didn’t. Twenty-three years is a long time, Master Chen, a very long time.”