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  He would, of course, attend the dinner despite his feelings. Not to do so would be a grave insult, and he could not risk offending either his benefactor or his teacher. Of course, none of that explained the true reason for Shi Po's sudden appearance in his store. But once again, it would be impolite for him to ask. So he waited patiently and they conversed about the early spring, the flowers in his garden, and even the carved stone that sat in the center of his goldfish pond.

  At last, Shi Po came to the point. "How does it fare with your new pet?"

  He hesitated, unable to settle in his mind exactly how things were going with Li Dee. Finally, he decided on the most obvious. "She is not what I expected."

  "And what did you expect?"

  He shook his head. "She is both more intelligent than I had thought and more nervous."

  "She has settled into her training then? She has accepted her fate?"

  He nodded. "By all appearances, yes." Of course, now that he had an idea that she was not as stupid as her other countrymen, he wondered if she could be deceiving him. Was she indeed smart enough to pretend to accept her life? He already knew the answer was yes, and yet he had not thought any ghost person, least of all a woman, could possibly plan that far ahead. Not a one of his English customers could delay their amusements for a moment, much less plan for opportunities ahead of them.

  And yet, he was already aware that Li Dee was not like his ghost customers.

  "You have begun her training?" asked Shi Po, interrupting his musings.

  "Today. And more this evening. But she is like a nervous hare, very difficult to settle." He sighed. "I believe it is the water in her that makes her inconstant." Except, of course, the water would make her flexible, not agitated as she had already demonstrated.

  Shi Po's tinkling laughter startled him. He stiffened at her insult, which naturally made her laugh even more. "So much yang, Ru Shan," she said, humor still lacing her tone. "You forget that she is English. You cannot expect her to simply throw open her clothing with lustful abandon. These ghost people are dried up and insubstantial. They cannot understand the finer philosophies, and so they try to control their animal passions the only way they can: by stopping them entirely. Their children are taught from birth not to enjoy anything of their bodies." She reached out, gently touching his hand. "Surely you understand this. So many of our own countrymen make this same mistake. You can hardly blame the ghost people for such ignorance."

  He nodded, knowing it was true. And yet, Li Dee did not seem too stupid to understand, merely uneducated. But either way, Shi Po was right. Li Dee was obviously anxious. He had thought she would embrace her experiences as any other Englishman he knew—wholeheartedly, without any thought to the consequences. Apparently, Englishwomen, or perhaps this Englishwoman, were very different.

  "Now... what do I do? Her water runs deep. I have already felt it. How..." His voice trailed off as he struggled to phrase his thoughts.

  "How can you use her yin to balance your spirit?"

  "Yes."

  "You must tell her your secrets."

  He stiffened, shocked by her suggestion. He had not even told Shi Po his secrets, and she was tigress to his dragon. Few more intimate relationships existed. Here she was suggesting he reveal his soul to a white woman?

  Beside him, he heard Shi Po sigh, clearly frustrated. "Do you wish her to give you of her innermost self?"

  He nodded, for the purified yin could not flow otherwise.

  "Then you must give of yourself as well."

  "But—"

  "Listen, Ru Shan. I have told you that you are the arrow. She is only the bow that aims you toward the middle path of the Tao. If you do not understand her, and understand the ghost people through her, how will you ever understand why killing a white man has taken you from the middle path?"

  "But I have no secrets," he lied.

  "Begin tonight. Tell her your thoughts." Then she shook her head. "No, you must tell her your feelings. That is the root of yin. She will not understand your thoughts, but your voice will calm her. Animals can sense when you speak from the heart. And when you do, she will share her feelings—her yin—with you. In the end, you will find your balance."

  Ru Shan stood, shaking his head vehemently. "It cannot work as you say."

  She looked at him, her gaze steady and hard. "I have seen it, Ru Shan. I know it to be true."

  He felt his breath catch in awe. "You have attained immortality?"

  She licked her lips, then slowly, sadly, let her gaze slip away. "I have gained a higher level. In the Chamber of a Thousand Swinging Lanterns. Once there, I hear things. I feel things. But no," she sighed. "I am not an Immortal yet."

  He softened, coming to sit beside her again. "Soon, Shi Po. Soon we will both walk the heavenly gardens together."

  Her hands twisted in her lap. "I have long wished for such a thing, Ru Shan. But you cannot progress—you have not progressed since that night. We will never walk together, Ru Shan, unless you do this." She looked at the garden path, no doubt gauging the time by the lengthening afternoon shadows. "It is late. I must go." Then, abruptly, she reached out and gripped his fingers. "You must go as well. Speak from your heart to the ghost girl. And then we can return to our studies together."

  Ru Shan nodded, though the movement was slow and reluctant. "I will try."

  "You must succeed," she corrected as she allowed him to help her stand. "You must succeed or all your work—all our work—these last nine years will be for nothing."

  * * *

  Fu De opened the door quickly, but Ru Shan didn't enter. Instead, he stood and twisted his hands together inside his robe. He knew better than to show anxiety in front of his servant. He knew it was the height of folly to be anxious before visiting his own slave. And yet despite the way it looked to Fu De, despite the silent recriminations he screamed at himself, he couldn't force his feet to cross the threshold. Not until he resolved exactly what he intended to do.

  Naturally, Fu De did not question his master's bizarre behavior; he merely stood to one side of the door, his face impassive. And when Ru Shan continued to stand there in silence, Fu De offered a single comment.

  "She has been very unsettled all day."

  Ru Shan's gaze sharped on him. "Why?"

  Fu De bowed deeply. "You have chosen well. I believe her yin is beginning to flow and she does not know how to manage or release it."

  "I don't want her to release it. Not yet. Not until I am here to absorb it."

  Fu De's expression lightened into an ironic smile. "Then it is most fortunate that you are here now to help her." He shook his head in dismay. "The ghost people truly are closed to their passions. It is no wonder so many of them are insane."

  Ru Shan nodded, understanding Shi Po's words completely. Without access to higher understanding of their energies, the white people had no choice but to either release their passions in wanton displays of recklessness or stop them up entirely and risk madness. Clearly the white men chose the path of licentiousness, while their women were expected to dry themselves up into old prunes. Neither path would bring enlightenment—or even good judgment.

  Ru Shan sighed. No matter what his own reservations were, he had begun the change in Li Dee. Because of his actions, her yin had begun to flow. It was now his responsibility to aid her in controlling and directing that energy.

  With her health in mind, he crossed into the tiny quarters. As he did, he felt a wash of relief flow through him. It was Li Dee's yin, of course, strong enough to saturate even the air. And as some of it settled into his soul, he began to think more clearly, more logically.

  If nothing else, this feeling of relief showed that Shi Po had steered him correctly. His own balance would be restored by the white woman's yin. It was logical, therefore, to assume she was correct about the next step as well. He had to talk to Li Dee, opening up not only his body to her energy, but also his mind and soul. Only then would he return to balance.

  It had to be done.
He would begin talking to her. But first, he had to drain off some of her yin and thereby settle her body.

  He crossed firmly into the second room, pushing the door open. She was there, waiting for him, her robe tied neatly about her body, her golden hair braided down her back. She appeared to be in complete control, even if her hands were knotted tightly in her lap. Then he looked into her eyes. Those blue eyes were stormy today—the color of the sea on an evil day. Fu De's assessment was correct: Her yin had begun to flow, and she hadn't the slightest understanding of what to do about it.

  Ru Shan stepped forward, and she flinched. He had not made any threatening movement, and yet she was already more skittish than before.

  "You are feeling unsettled," he said in English.

  She nodded, once.

  "Why?"

  She wet her lips, and he felt his body hunger for the moisture she left there. But he did not betray his hunger. Instead, he watched her with an intensity that startled him. They were like polar opposites, yin and yang drawn magnetically toward one another.

  "Do you know why you feel unhappy?" he repeated.

  Her body sagged slightly in annoyance. "Perhaps because I am a slave? Because my freedom, my future, possibly my life have been taken from me?"

  He nodded, knowing those things were all true, but dismissing them. "It is the nature of women to be locked away. They cannot be trusted in the world of men."

  "It is in the nature of men to lock us away because they are the ones who cannot be trusted."

  He felt himself smile despite his intentions. He had not thought a woman could be so clever with words. Certainly not a white woman. And yet here was Li Dee, bantering with him like the most skilled of courtesans.

  "You may be correct," he said, surprised that he was already feeling charitable toward her. "But this is your situation. You have had ample time to accept it."

  She sighed, the sound more like the flow of a swift, deep river than the arid sound of a week before. "I do not like it." Then she let her head drop in the way of all submissive females. "But I have accepted it."

  He stepped forward, reaching out to lift her chin. She did not resist him when he tilted her head back to make her look at him. "Your yin has begun to flow," he explained to her. "It is time to continue to purify it. I will also try and drain some of the energy off of you." He saw the flash of panic in her eyes and rushed to explain. "It will not hurt. You may even like it."

  Far from soothing, his words seemed to spark in her a further panic. Her breath caught as if dammed up, then stuttered out of her in a gasp. She tried to pull away, but he could not release her. He had to make her understand.

  "You are afraid because you have been taught this is wrong. You have been told to stop your..." He struggled for the right words in English. "Your womanly water. Your energy. They have told you that it is wrong to feel this flow."

  She frowned, as if she were trying to sort out his words.

  "Did they tell you never to touch yourself? As a child, did you ever try to talk to someone about your bodily fluids, only to have them hush you into silence?"

  She nodded. "My aunt told me it was sinful to talk of such things."

  Ru Shan exhaled in disgust. "That is ignorance of the highest order. How can a person learn if something is not talked about?"

  She didn't answer. She obviously knew he was correct.

  "Your fluids, your female energy and power—they are all natural. They are a normal part of your body. How can any of that be sinful?"

  She shook her head. "I don't know."

  "But that is what you were taught."

  She nodded.

  "I am teaching you differently." And with that, he shifted his tunic and settled on the bed before her. "Come. Let us begin."

  She must have sensed his impatience, because she did not fight him. Her hands shook as she knelt before him, just as they had this morning, but beyond that she gave no sign of her turmoil. In truth, he felt some pity for her. It was not only the English who taught their daughters these ridiculous things. The Chinese, too, repressed their women with nearly as much zeal. But he could not allow his compassion to show. In the way of all animals, Li Dee would capitalize on his weakness, trying to delay what she feared. She needed this training as much as he needed to give it. And so when her hands fumbled with her robe, he pushed them aside, throwing the garment off her shoulders with a quick flick of his wrists.

  And there they were: her breasts. Gloriously pink and white, already peaked in readiness. The evening light was dim, adding a slight touch of shadow to her flesh, but it only made her appear more milky white. In short, her skin was beautiful. She had indeed done well to keep such youthfulness in while her female energies were stopped. How much more would she glow once the yin began to flow freely? He actually smiled in anticipation.

  "What—Why are you smiling?" Her high voice betrayed her anxiety.

  "I am pleased with your skin. It has excellent tone and texture." For proof, he reached out and stroked the edge of one breast. Her breath stuttered within her as she unconsciously continued to block her energy flow, and he felt the ripple in his fingers as that energy lurched within her body.

  He knew he needed to talk more. When he did, she focused on his words, allowing him to work with her body more freely. And so he began to explain. "I am now looking at the shape of your breasts. They tell me much about you."

  She frowned. "What can they... what can you..." She bit her lip, then once again wet her mouth with her pink, darting tongue. "What do you learn from them? About me?"

  "Your breasts are what we call bells. See how they are round and full below."

  To demonstrate, he opened both his palms, sliding them slowly and gently beneath her breasts, lifting them slightly. He was pleased to note that she did not flinch. Indeed, she was concentrating on his words, watching what his hands were doing as he spoke, and so her breath steadied and her body stilled.

  "This tells me that you matured early and have strong passions." She did not disagree with him, so he continued. "But see how your nipples flare outward, their peaks pointing not straight ahead, but to opposite sides. It is as if your yin wants to go in two different directions instead of straight ahead."

  To demonstrate, he pushed her breasts straight, then let them ease back into their wider, more natural position.

  "This tells me that you will have ample energy for all of your children, when they come, but without children to care for, you are pulled in too many directions without control. You are..."

  "Impetuous."

  He blinked, not knowing the English word.

  "It means I rush ahead without thinking things through. My mother always said I go every which way without purpose."

  "Your mother is correct. Because your energy is headed in different directions, it is doubly hard for your mind to contain your passions." He smiled at her. "But I will help you find a way to channel them."

  She nodded, clearly not reassured. But she knew she had no choice in this matter, and her acquiescence pleased him.

  "I will begin just like this morning."

  He flattened his hand, pressing three fingertips on the inside of each breast. Her flesh was warm, her skin soft, but that was nothing compared to the fluttering beat of her heart, which seemed to tremble just beneath his hands. He wanted to press his palms deeply against her, feeling her breath as it flowed through her, thrumming with the beating of her heart.

  He didn't understand these feelings. Certainly he had never felt like this with Shi Po. But, then, he was not the one who had initiated her into her tigress practice. He only knew that the task before him was simple, the most basic of beginnings. And yet it had never seemed so important. Li Dee watched, her water-colored eyes wide with anticipation, and he felt the weight of her entire soul focused directly upon him.

  He moved his fingers, sliding them between her breasts before making a tight circle beneath her nipples, then back up again.

  "Your hands
are so warm," she whispered.

  He nodded, again pleased that she was speaking so easily with him. "That is my yang fire. It has always been so with me."

  One circle completed. The second circle begun.

  "This is not the same as it was this morning."

  His gaze shot to her face, surprised that his attention had been so focused on her breasts. Surprised, too, that she had noticed the change in his stroke.

  "You are correct," he answered evenly, though it took a great deal of effort to keep his voice calm and his strokes even. "This morning was a simple introduction. What I am doing now is how we will proceed in the future. Can you explain what is different?"

  "Of course I can." She sounded irritated, and so he focused on keeping an even pace to help soothe her. "You are... your hands are making smaller circles. Nearer my... my..."

  "Your nipples."

  "Yes."

  "You may use the words here. It will make it easier if I don't have to guess what you mean."

  She nodded, but didn't speak.

  "Yes, this is a beginning stroke, designed to smooth over any restrictions in your yin flow. We begin in tight circles around your nipples then slowly widen each circle."

  "But you are only touching my..." She swallowed, clearly working against a lifetime of silence when it came to her body. "My breasts," she finally said. "What if my yin is restricted in my arm? Or my leg?"

  "Yin is centered here." He passed his hands over her nipples without touching them. And as had happened this morning, she gasped at his movement and he felt the heat of her yin straining toward him. "There will be no restriction in your arms and legs unless you have injured yourself."

  She shook her head, and her breasts jiggled in his hands, momentarily brushing against the tops of his knuckles. It was such a pleasant experience that he flattened his hands even more, pressing first four then all five of his fingers against her. Until he circled beneath her breasts. Then he lifted his wrists, enjoying the feel of her breasts as they brushed across the sides and backs of his fingers.