Bride of the Moso Prince Page 8
Sharon nodded. Money was the only way to get things done in most of societies. “Still, that’s wonderful! Are you, your family going to move in there?”
“I don’t think so. It’s inconvenient, being so far from our fields and the hotel.”
“Then what are you doing with the house?”
“We’re going to make it into a museum.”
“A museum?”
“Yes. Moso cultural museum.”
“I want to see it!”
“You’ll in a moment. But it’s barely ready. It needs lots of work.”
Excited by what she was about to see. Sharon quickened her paces.
The late chief’s residence was on the top of the hill.
Among the pines, a yellow roof shone under the sun. Before they reached the house Sharon saw a prayer structure, called the Mani dome in the woods, decorated by colorful prayer flags. There were apples near the dome and remnants of burned branches inside.
Nobul closed his palms and muttered a prayer in front of the structure before they moved on. Then he told her that every first and fifteenth of the month the Moso would visit all the islands on the lake and offer incense and pay respect to Goddess Gemu.
The house was stately even though it was under renovation. The iron gate had been recently repainted, with remnants of stone lions on each side. Nobul said he was still looking for replacements. The yard was huge, but nothing was planted except some weeds here and there, and some piles of planks. The house had the same structure as Shangari-la, but it was smaller and had only two storages. There were two layers of roofs. The carved pillars and the railings of veranda had been newly painted.
As they crossed the yard Sharon saw that under the weeds was a paved ground and the surface was chiseled with intricate design.
“It’s Nakhi art.” Nobul explained. “My grandfather hired the artist from Lijiang. But now half of the picture is blurred.” Nobul brushed away the weeds to let Sharon see. Sharon recognized a bird with wings spread, a fish, and some strange symbols.
“What’s that writing? Looks like pictograph in ancient times.”
“It’s Dongba, Nakhi language. Yes it’s a kind of pictograph. I don’t know what it means either. A professor from Southwest Ethnic University told me they were auspicious words.”
“Intriguing!” Sharon’s eyes lingered on the art on the ground for a moment longer and looked up at the house again.
The porch pillars were all carved. The one by the main entrance of the yard was carved with dragons and phoenix.
“Do Moso believe in Dragon and phoenix too?” Sharon asked.
“No. But the Empress was Han.”
“That’s right.” Sharon remembered what Charlene had told her the other night. “Tell me about her, please.”
Nobul’s eyes gleamed. “Ok, but let’s sit down first.” He led her to a stone bench in the center of the yard.
“She was actually an ambassador. The Han wanted the Moso chief’s to help in controlling the bandits along the Silk Road, so they suggested a marriage of alliance. My grandfather refused at first since he thought marriage of convenience was distasteful and he had no desire of taking in a Han woman against the walking marriage custom. But the Han persisted. A caravan carrying loads of ammunition and other necessities such as salt, tea, and silverwares arrived our land one day, along with a match maker with the pictures of a dozen young women. After thinking through the mutual benefits, my grandfather agreed on a marriage. He didn’t pick the most beautiful girl, but the most talented one since in his mind, he was choosing a business partner. My grandmother Ming had been the best student in her high school, had won the competitions in singing, dance, and speech.”
“So it was a loveless, arranged marriage?” Sharon grimaced.
“It was going to be,” Nobul’s smiled and continued to recount the story, “if Ming, my grandmother, hadn’t also had the talent for rebellion.”
“Oh?” Sharon was interested.
“Ming was a sixteen year old high school girl when she heard the news of her betrothal, and she wouldn’t accept it. But her father Captain Liao of Guomindang army, had to obey the order from the general. A month after the chief set out for his journey to meet his Han bride, Ming ran away from home.”
“She did?”
“Yes. She had planned to join the revolutionist movement after high school. But the engagement became a good reason to expedite her dream. It was the first time she had ever gotten to the train station alone, and she got on a wrong train. The train took her to the borders of Cool Mountains. And near the town of Muli she was captured by the bandits who were going use her to get ransoms from her family. And as if the Goddess had planned every event, the chief’s caravan ran into the bandits soon after. Although the bandits, recognizing the chief, had attempted to avoid him, Ming managed to scream and got my grandfather’s attention. He fought the bandits and rescued Ming.”
“And then they fell in love right away?” Sharon was fascinated.
“Not yet. The chief didn’t recognize her at that moment for she was in boy’s clothes and was pretty disheveled. But after she had related her story to him, he knew it. He was distressed, knowing what his decision had done to her. So he told her who he was and that he would cancel the engagement as soon as they got to the city.”
“It took them another two weeks on their way. And by the time they were in the city, they had both fallen madly in love with each other.”
“I can’t imagine the surprise in Ming’s parents the moment they showed up in front of them.” Sharon said dreamily. “You didn’t make this up, did you?”
“No, not a word. Ming recorded the story herself after she had gotten married.”
“Did she ever regret afterwards? For marrying that womanizer of your grandfather?”
“The chief might have been a womanizer before he had met Ming, but after that he was different. Living on the island alone with Ming was a proof of his devotion.” He said earnestly.
“Did he build a house for each of his lovers?” Sharon asked carelessly.
“No,” Nobul said, “he followed the walk-marry custom with other women. But my grandmother was different. She came to this place alone, leaving her family behind. She had no chance of visiting them either. Our land was nearly inaccessible to the outsiders back then. She herself got sick and nearly died on their journey here, which was two months on horseback in the mountains.”
The Empress had sacrificed enormously for the marriage. Besides her family, she had to give up school which she loved. She had also given up luxuries of the city. For an army captain’s daughter, it wasn’t an easy thing to do.
“Your grandmother,” Sharon said with respect, “was courageous.”
“And romantic too,” Nobul added softly, “she wouldn’t have come at all that if she hadn’t fallen in love with my grandfather.”
His eyes locked on hers as he said that. Sharon became self conscious. The story was so romantic that it sounded unreal. Could it be that he was making it up to tease her? Why would he do that? He wasn’t suggesting that she should … Oh no. It couldn’t be. She blushed and looked away. After a moment’s silence she heard Nobul’s voice again.
“She’s done so much for the Han. And yet received virtually no recognition for it. Instead, she was condemned and jailed for over a decade for simply being the wife of a chief, an element of the old society, during cultural revolution. And then she lived in poverty for the rest of her life.”
“When did she pass away?”
“Over ten years ago. She’d never complained about hardship in her later life, and never been defeated. She worked like a peasant after coming out of the jail. She paved roads and painted houses to make a living. She learned how to do woodwork in the jail and became the first and only carpenter in the village. Actually she was my teacher. When I was ten I carved a picture on a table and she was so impressed that she told me that I would become the best wood carving artist one day. When she passe
d away I was an apprentice in a wood carving factory in Dahli and I was carving a headboard for her. She didn’t even get to see it.”
Nobul’s voice trailed off and his eyes looked sad.
Sharon reached out and held his hand, “It’s ok. I’m sure she saw it from heaven.”
“I hope so.” Nobul nodded. “Anyway, the museum will make her proud of me.”
He got up, held her hand and gently pulled her into the house.
Sharon looked at the interior of the house. The floor was covered with wood dusts. Logs and planks lay on the floor. There were pieces of work in progress too. “Are you working on the project alone?”
“Not really. My brother helps. In fact, Urcher did most of the repairs. My cousin who is a lama, would paint all the murals. And we have the help from other villagers too.”
“How long have you been working on it?”
“Almost a year. It would take a couple more months. The only place that’s completed is the bedroom…since I have to sleep here. What to see it?”
“Sure.”
The bedroom was located on the second floor of the east wing. It was spacious and sumptuous. It was a combination of traditional Han style and Moso. A carved wood screen separated the bedroom to outer and inner chambers. The outer chamber was masculine. The floor was decorated with rugs from Tibet. A hearth sat against the west wall. Yak skin cushioned the couches. On the wall hung leopard skins and horns of Yaks. The inner chamber, on the other hand, was feminine and Han. The curtains on the windows were made of white satin, the bed was surrounded with a canopy of purple silk. A mahogany vanity table stood in the center.
Sharon lifted the canopy and the first thing she noticed was the carved bed panel. It was a rooster with upturned head and opened beaks.
“A crowing rooster! Is this what you made for your grandmother?” Sharon asked.
“Yes.” Nobul, who was lifting the window curtains came next to her. “She was born in the year of the Rooster. That explains her industrialism and her charisma.”
Sharon nodded. She didn’t know much about Chinese horoscopes, but somehow what he said made sense.
Inside the canopy was a space filled with silk, from pillow cases to the sheets. The top of the canopy was embroidered with beautiful patterns. He slept here? All alone in such luxurious setting? She doubted it but was too shy to ask. Perhaps he would take tourists here once in awhile. Perhaps Namu would stay here sometimes. She let the canopy down abruptly.
There was a black and white picture of the Empress and the chief on the wall. She was wearing a Moso costume: the jacket, the long pleated skirt, and the sash. Her headdress was adorned with silver nuggets and hanging from the sash were huge silver buckles. Very much like the Peking dog at her foot, she looked docile next to the massive, dominant body of the chief, and it was hard to imagine that rebellious girl who ran away from home, or the woman who would pave roads and plough fields like a peasant.
Nobul said to her, “It was a great picture. Taken by an American explorer, named Joseph Rock…” then he looked at the picture and looked at her again, “You look like the Empress, don’t you think?”
“Me?” Sharon looked at the faded picture. She could indeed see outline of her own facial feature in the Empress, especially their almond shape eyes and their slightly upturned chins. “Maybe, but then, you could say that to many Han women from Sichuan province.”
“I’ll have to disagree. I’ve seen numerous Han women. You’re the only one that I said that to.’
“Well, if you insist.” Sharon smiled, “maybe I am related to the Empress. I might be the heir of Captain Yao’s brother or something like that.”
The bedroom had a stunning view of the lake. Gemu mountain and its reflection were equally visible, making the lake an actual mirror of the Goddess. The smaller islands on the lake were like peaceful sails.
“Oh, this is paradise.” Sharon was mesmerized from gazing at the view.
A moment later she turned reluctantly and followed Nobul to the balcony. To her delight, the balcony had a charming view of the pine forests.
“This is great.” Sharon leant against the railing of the balcony and looked around her. It was a big island, enough for another small village. What a luxury it was to have the whole island for yourself.
“See the steam over there?” Nobul pointed to a forest of pines a few meters away, where a streak of steam was rising through the branches of a tree.
“Yes, what is it?”
“It’s a hot spring.”
“A hot spring?”
“Yes, want to see it?”
“Sure!”
In the middle of a pine forest and surrounded by rocks, the hot spring had the size of a gym spa. The bubbling water was tantalizing.
“Want a soak?” Nobul asked her, smiling.
“Um…” Sharon really wanted to say yes but it was the first time she visited here, and she didn’t bring a towel or anything. Besides, what if he wanted to soak with her? She blushed and said, “No thanks.”
“Are you sure?” He seemed to have guessed her worries. “I could wait for you in the house. I have some work to do anyway.”
His hospitality tempted her again. She glanced at the clear water under the misty steam, then looked at his eager face. Struggle briefly between modesty and curiosity, then shook her head, “Next time. I’m not prepared for it.”
“Next time? So you’re planning to come again?” His laughing eyes reminded her how unwilling she had been before the trip.
Sharon was embarrassed, but she said nonetheless, “Yes, I would like to come back. But you’d better notify me in advance next time after you set a time. Don’t just show up all of a sudden.”
Nobul shook his head. “Well, is this a typical manner of an American woman? I waited for you for hours in order to give you a free boat ride. I haven’t gotten a thank you, and you are still complaining!”
His pretended desperation made her laugh. “You asked for it!”
As she was laughing, he suddenly said with a serious look, “But you know why I ask for it?”
Sharon stopped laughing, and asked, “No. Why?”
He leant towards her, and whispered to her ear, “I want to be your slave.”
Sharon was instantly stirred by his low masculine voice. Her heart went pounding for a moment and she was lost for words. He looked so serious that she wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not.
While she was still feeling confused Nobul laughed, “I’m just teasing!”
“You jerk!” Sharon tried to hit him, but he ran away before her hand reached him.
They went back downstairs to the living room, which would become the main exhibition room, was almost ready for interior set up.
“I’ve gotten the display shelves ready. In fact, maybe you can help me with the interior design. You’re a designer, aren’t you?”
“A web designer,” she shook her head, although she was interested. “Very different.”
“Every designing job involves some common talents.” He said sincerely, “for example, creativity and esthetics.”
“I agree, but…”
“Don’t refuse me yet, give it a thought.” He held her hand and squeezed it lightly.
Sharon looked at him wide-eyed. Her cheeks flushed with excitement. Both the suggestion of interior design and his touch were overwhelming. She pulled her hand away from his and asked as calmly as she could, “do you have any plans at this point?”
“Not really. I’ve been to many museums in the province. My favorite is the Nakhi Cultural Museum in Lijiang. But they are all too… how should I put it? Too formal, too museum like. I think ours should be cozier and as close to an actual Moso house as possible…”
“That’s not a bad idea, being authentic and all,” she said, “but…”
He looked at her as she hesitated. “Go on.”
“But people might want to see more in a museum, especially if they’ve seen Moso houses already.”
“Not off the top of my head,” she thought about the museums that she had been to, and said slowly, “Perhaps a room that displays Moso costumes, a wall of pictures that show Moso dances, Mosuo rituals and ceremonies, and descriptions of the history of Moso…”
“These are great ideas,” he said with flickers in his eyes, “would you also like to be my exhibition design consultant?”
Sharon laughed, “Are you serious?”
“Yes, serious. I believe you’ll do a good job.”
Sharon hesitated. The temptation was great. To design a museum? That was something that she wouldn’t dream about.
“Yes or no?” Nobul asked again.
“Um, I have to think about it. I didn’t plan to stay long, you see.” She looked down at the floor, afraid of his eyes.
“Perhaps you want to change your mind now?”
His voice was husky and she looked up at him slowly but only jerked away again when she met her eyes. They were seething with desire.
He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her close to him. The gestured caused havoc in her gut and she bowed her head with confusion. He held her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted it.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
She obeyed, reluctantly, meeting those disturbing eyes bravely this time, ignoring her throbbing heart. “What do you want?” Her voice was shaky.
His eyes spoke for him. They fell on her face, caressing her before they fixed on her lips. She anticipated with hope and reluctance. She felt the stifling air in the slow but determined movement. Centuries passed before his lips touched hers. Until then, she realized how much she had missed those lips last night and this morning. They were surprisingly soft and playful. While he was still gently sucking on her lips Sharon ran her tongue along them.
She could hear his heart doing boxing in his chest.
His cell phone rang. His hands relaxed. “Damn,” he cursed softly, one arm still holding her, he reached the phone.
“Hello? I see. Ok. I’ll be there.”