Chapter 1 #2
He lays prone, forehead on the floor, for some time.
I refuse to pull him up, as would be expected after such overblown praise.
Instead, I close my eyes and count to ten, and in measured, calm tones I say, ‘Fine. Now please get up and hold your tongue or I’ll be forced to inform Lord Ma you’ve lost all interest in discussing Confucian philosophy. ’
This time, he leaps to his feet and stands meek and subdued before me. I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief when his gaze lands on the mahjong table, and his face lights up again.
‘Mahjong! Could I play a round? It looks so fun!’
Queen Mother of the West, save me, I whimper under my breath. I expel a long slow breath, take another deep one and say, very slowly so he absorbs every word, ‘You – are – not – a – minister – only – ministers – may – play – mahjong – here. Dong ma?’
‘Dong, dong, dong,’ he mutters, his enthusiasm dampened.
The respite is only for a moment before his eyes light up again.
‘Oh, but this means I can watch everyone play! I can see everyone’s hand, their strategies, intentions.
’ He fist-palm salutes and bows so violently I’m forced to hastily retreat a few steps to avoid being whipped by his hair.
The envoy continues to prattle, heedless of whether I wish to listen or not. I wave down a passing attendant. ‘Bring me a bottle of Maotai – wait, make that two.’ I sink into the nearest chair, conceding defeat.
Just then, a familiar and welcome crooked nose pokes around the corner of the outcrop, followed by the rest of Lord Black wearing his usual attire – shabby brown scholar robes. ‘This orphaned one arrives before you unharmed, Grand Princess Overflowing with Sagacity,’ he says, inclining his head.
Lord Aengus stops mid-sentence and gapes. I offer a low bow, glad for the chance to talk to Lord Black. He’s been away the past few months so I haven’t been able to ask him about my dragon pearl.
‘This humble one basks in your glory, most venerable Lord Black, Dragon King of the North,’ I say. ‘Please allow me to introduce Lord Aengus, from the Tuatha Dé Pantheon of Inis Fáil.’
I turn and find Lord Aengus already bent low. He straightens so quickly he loses his balance, but manages to right himself before falling onto the dragon king. I try very hard not to make a what in Tian is wrong with you face at the hapless envoy.
With a fist-palm salute, he drops to one knee. ‘Ten thousand years of good health to the mighty and esteemed Lord Black, Dragon King of the North!’ he shouts.
The corner of Lord Black’s mouth twitches. ‘Please, stand, Brother Yang. I am honoured by your’ – Lord Black clears his throat – ‘most enthusiastic greeting. Your Mandarin is impressive. I heard Brother Zhu taught you?’
Lord Aengus smiles. ‘Brother Zhu is the best. He came to Inis Fáil and stayed on our fair isle for many years. I taught him Irish and he taught me a few of the main languages of Tian, including Mandarin. He even introduced me to Queen Mother of the West! I am so fortunate to have such a good friend.’
That explains why Lord Aengus’s courtly speech is so smarmy.
Another dragon uncle joins us. ‘There you are, Ming,’ he says to Lord Black, ‘you didn’t tell me you knew Brother Yang. I’ve been wanting to meet him.’
The dragon uncle is the spitting image of Lord Black, from the aquiline nose to the shabby robes, though this dragon uncle’s robes are an ugly faded mustard with a long, frayed tear along the cuff of one of his sleeves.
It is a rare thing for two dragon kings to attend the Mahjong Council together; in doing so they give great face not only to the Ministry of Hell, but also to me, a junior minister.
The problem is I don’t know which of the other three dragon kings he is. Failing to greet him with due respect would negate the honour they bestow.
Bowing low, I formulate an ornate but generic greeting, hoping the dragon king doesn’t notice. ‘This unworthy one has long admired—’ I start, but am drowned out by the Tuatha Dé envoy’s booming voice.
‘Ten thousand years of good health to the mighty and esteemed Lord . . .’ A long pause. Then he says, ‘Which one are you?’
‘I am Lord Vermilion, Dragon King of the Southern Seas,’ the mustard-robed dragon uncle says.
Lord Aengus resumes his greeting. ‘Ten thousand years of good health to the mighty and esteemed Lord Vermilion, Dragon King of the South!’
‘This humble one basks in your glory honourable Lord Vermilion, Dragon King of the South,’ I say quickly.
‘Lucky for you, Lady Jing, Lord Aengus is artless enough to admit his ignorance,’ Lord Vermilion says. ‘A lesson you should learn. Say what you mean, mean what you say. It avoids unnecessary complications.’
I reassess Lord Vermilion with a hopeful eye.
Lord Black only speaks in riddles; he never elaborates or explains and seems to take delight in nonsensical answers.
The dragon kings are renowned for their dragon sight, but no one seems to know exactly what dragon sight entails: some say it’s predicting the future, others that it’s the ability to see multiple strands of time and possibilities, and still others say it’s a kind of omniscience.
Maybe Lord Vermilion will prove more enlightening, and if so, then I could ask him about my dragon pearl.
In a demure and virtuous tone, I say, ‘Contain my ignorance, Lord Vermilion. I have cleaned my ears and received your wisdom.’
Lord Vermilion scoffs. ‘I suspect my words merely blow past your ears like so much wind.’
I smile, ignoring his mild rebuke. ‘I admit I didn’t know you before, but I do now.’
‘Now is not before nor after,’ Lord Vermilion says. The corners of his eyes crinkle like he’s amused.
Lord Black nods at his brother’s words. ‘So true, Qin, so true.’
What happened to saying what you mean and meaning what you say?
Not ready to give up, I try again. ‘This unworthy one labours your procession. Could esteemed Lord Vermilion explain what you mean by before and after? Do you mean time?’
‘What kind of time?’ Lord Vermilion counters. He clears his throat, hiding a giggle.
Tian. This dragon king’s answers are as non-sensical as Lord Black’s. Opting not to torment myself any further, I say, ‘Indeed’ and ask no further questions.
Lord Black chuckles. ‘Shall we play?’