Chapter Six
Yihui sat in a chair, her head pressed against the window and her feet throbbing in agony. She wanted to lie on the bed but couldn’t move across the room to accomplish it. They’d broken her feet and now how was she going to survive?
Her eyes drifted closed, but she was too frightened to rest. Her ears were attuned to the noises in this house, to the sound of restless feet, to anything that might signal danger. She heard nothing alarming, and for that, she was grateful to the blue-eyed Englishman.
She’d known men in her life who were kind.
Decent men who treated their servants with honor, even the women.
They spoke kindly and paid their bills. She knew one who had a laugh like a summer breeze and another who winked when he found something funny, which was often.
Never had she expected to meet one in England, and yet somehow she had.
Even when she couldn’t completely follow the spoken word—English accents were variable and strange—she could see from observing Max that he was a good man.
Unfortunately, she had no faith that a good man could manage in this world.
They inevitably got crushed by something.
One could not care for everyone and still maintain a safe world for oneself.
He had to have limits and when something went wrong, she, as the foreigner, would be left out in the cold.
And yet, that did not stop her from imagining his smile and remembering the strength in his arms as he carried her.
He was powerful in body and pleasing to her eye.
Funny how even the strangest physical appearance became appealing when set on a kind man.
She’d always thought the English to be big, ungainly apes who smelled bad.
Instead, she found Max strong, his hair intriguing, and his smile captivating.
But only a fool relied on a stranger with a charming smile.
Her best hope was to rid herself of her captors—both Chinese and English—and make a life for herself however she could.
But first, her feet had to heal. As soon as the door had shut behind Max, she had untied her binds, rebroken what had begun to heal crooked, and prayed that she was never again alone with any of her Chinese captors.
For a while the pain overwhelmed her, and she allowed it. She had lost everything, so if she wallowed in despair in this strange yellow room, then who would blame her? She would count on Max’s promise of safety for a little bit.
The commotion roused her from her despair.
Someone’s fury, someone else’s dismissal mixed into her dream, or perhaps they shaped her dream by pulling up horrific memories.
Six months on board the English ship had not been easy.
Pain, fever, stench. The memories set her heart racing with terror even before her door banged open.
She jolted awake with a cry, only to have fear choke off the sound.
Lao Gu stood framed in her doorway, his face contorted in fury. He pointed a harsh finger at her as he spit out his venom.
“You have failed, fat-foot bitch. We leave now.”
She recoiled, and in her fear, she pressed down on her feet. Agony shot through her body.
She cried out, the pain whiting out everything else until her head snapped to the side.
It was a moment before she realized he’d slapped her.
She hadn’t even felt the blow because the pain in her feet was all-consuming.
Instinct and long custom made her throw up her arms to shield her face, but the one blow was all he intended.
He towered over her, glaring down at her unbound feet.
“You have destroyed your own chances,” he growled. Then with deliberate cruelty, he set his boot upon her nearest foot and pressed down.
She screamed as pain exploded through her body. She struck out with little thought beyond trying to hurt him back. She knew where a man’s organ was even when covered by layers of clothing, and she had strong hands to grip the thing until he squeaked like the pig he was.
She found it.
She clenched down as best she could, tightening and twisting as she poured all her pain into what she did. But it was not enough.
He threw himself backwards and his tiny jinjing slipped away.
“Gutter dog! I will tie you down and laugh as the foreigners grunt on you.”
She hadn’t the strength to fight him. And when she looked for help, she saw Weed and Pervert maneuver into the room.
They were carrying her trunk of clothing, but they dropped it with a heavy thud on the floor.
Fear and pain choked her. Other times, she’d had words to throw at them.
Curses and threats from her ghost if no one else, but she was disoriented and exhausted.
In short, she was broken, and now she was no more than the animal they named her with no voice beyond a howl.
“Take her,” Lao Gu ordered.
Weed advanced while Pervert cracked his thick knuckles. She heard herself whimper and cursed herself for sounding so weak, but there was nothing she could do to change what was about to happen.
Until someone else changed it for her.
Suddenly, Pervert was thrown against the wall. All she’d seen was a white hand slip around and grab his shirt, then drag him aside. Weed barely turned his head before he received a blow to the face.
Max.
He moved into her view like a warrior god. His face wasn’t even distorted into fury. It was simply hard, cold, and implacable as stone.
She thought him beautiful.
He hauled Pervert backward by the neck, tripping the guard on purpose or by accident. Whatever he intended, Pervert went sprawling out the door where other white men grabbed him.
She hoped they killed him.
Meanwhile, Lao Gu grabbed her by the hair. She fought, but she could get no leverage. Her feet would not take any weight, and she had no control with her head jerked back and forth.
She saw Lao Gu draw his knife. She knew he meant to slit her throat. How many times had he threatened it? At least twice a day, but this time she believed him. This time, he had nothing left to lose and so she fought as an animal—with teeth and claws and every scrap of strength in her body.
She saw it happen as one must in a fight.
The action seemed slow to her eyes and yet so large as to fill her whole vision.
Max gripped Lao Gu’s arm despite the nearness of the blade.
He twisted it with a savage grip, his knuckles white as they passed in front of her eyes.
He made a sound full of dark fury—one that seemed to match and strengthen her own—and then his other fist plowed upward in a hard cut that snapped LaoGu’s head back.
Her tormenter flew backwards, the knife clattering from his hand. It landed near her feet hard enough to slice a dark line in her swollen flesh. She scrambled for it. This was the first weapon to come to her. The first time she could strike at the man who had reduced her to an animal.
So she acted like one. She grabbed the knife and plunged it straight into his heart. Blood welled up, thick and ugly. She knew its scent, knew its potency. And then, she gripped the handle with both fists and twisted.
Let the blade shred his black heart. And let his ghost pay for the crimes he committed.
“I curse you,” she said as she twisted the knife. “I curse you,” she repeated as it turned again. “I curse you to suffer under one such as you.”
It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t even clever.
But her grandmother had taught her how to curse with the power of all victims, and so she spun the words out now as she had been taught.
She did not use her own weak qi, she called upon all the women who had died on the boat, the ones he had maimed and she’d treated, the ones who could never speak because of what he had done to them.
“Take him,” she called to them. “Take him and find peace, Su Lan.” She named the girl who had died on the boat.
Then she named others who had been harmed by men in power.
“Yuan Fu, Cai Jian, Xiao Xi…” She named every girl she had ever treated who had reason to curse a man.
And she balled them all up in her mind and set them upon Lao Gu.
And she didn’t stop until a white man’s large hand gently pulled her away.
It took a great deal of strength for him to stop her. Indeed, he couldn’t do it until she was pushed back upon her feet and pain shot through her mind. It interrupted her chant, and she collapsed. She felt her body drop into his hands as he struggled to manage her weight.
“What…feet?” he demanded. She couldn’t understand all the words, but his expression of horror was enough. He pointed to her swollen, ugly feet as he rounded on the others. “What…her feet?”
“The dog needed small feet!” bellowed Weed in Chinese.
Pervert didn’t deign to answer the demand. He cursed the white men as he fought against the two men holding him. It didn’t save him.
And indeed, while he drew breath to begin again, she finally found her voice.
“I curse you now with their names. When they are done with Lao Gu, they will come for you.” Just as Lao Gu had done to her, she raised her hand and pointed at each of them.
Blood dripped from her fingers, and she had the satisfaction of seeing them both go white with terror.
They knew, because she had told them, that her grandmother was skilled with curses. That all the women in her family knew how to turn ghosts into spirits of vengeance.
She grinned at them and threw the same names at them.
“Eat their spirit!” she cried. “Have them, Su Lan, Yuan Fu, Cai Jian…” She kept repeating their names.
She said them while Weed and Pervert stopped struggling with the white men.
She threw names like daggers until they twisted out of the white men’s grip and ran.
She heard them scramble down the stairs. She heard their ragged breath and rapid feet as they fled the house. And still she cursed them until her voice was hoarse and her energy spent. And in that moment, she lost all the power within her.
Her last word before she lost consciousness stayed in her mind and echoed in her body, clinging to her because it was all she had to give.
“Curse.”