Chapter 41
Forty-One
Grannies
The next morning, I head to the Bund where I’m to meet everyone by the jetty. Big Wang is already there, waiting with the Durands, Tony and Lord Aengus. Marianne carries a bag over her shoulder, filled with gifts for Niang Niang.
Under Big Wang’s watch, Tony doesn’t dare glare at me, though I’m fairly certain he’s watching me from the corner of his eye.
Max fidgets nervously, then clears his throat. ‘Good morning, Jing,’ he says in decent Mandarin.
Startled, I stare open-mouthed. Big Wang raises his eyebrows, reminding me of my manners.
‘Ah, yes, good morning to you, too, Max,’ I say.
Max smiles, relieved, his gaze darting to Big Wang then away.
Knowing this effort to be nice to me is Big Wang’s doing, I wrap my arms around Big Wang’s waist, barely reaching halfway. ‘Thank you, Big Wang, for helping us find my father.’
Big Wang blushes and pats my shoulder awkwardly. ‘Time to go.’
I nod and gesture down the gangway to Fisherman Lo and his sampan. Lord Aengus leads the way, followed by Max. Tony stays close to Mémère and Marianne. As we head down the metal gangway, it bounces and clanks under our feet. Mémère freezes. No matter how much Marianne cajoles, she refuses to move.
I slip my arm through Mémère’s, patting her hand. ‘I used to hate the water too,’ I say. ‘But actually, since I can hold my breath for a really long time – days, maybe even weeks – I’ve discovered water can be quite fun. I explored the bottom of a lake once. So many pretty fish.’
Marianne translates for me with a quick trill, and it brings a smile to Mémère’s pale face, then surprise. She asks a question. Marianne translates. ‘The water didn’t pull you apart?’
I shake my head. ‘I know it’s dangerous to be in mist form in water, but I was in my regular body. The water couldn’t hurt me. Not even when my grandmother tried to drown me. She put me in a cage and dropped me to the bottom of a lake. I only had to hold my breath and wait for someone to fetch me.’
After hearing my answer, Mémère tightens her grip around my hand. With her chin held high, she allows me to walk her down the gangway and across the narrow pontoon to the sampan, Tony shadowing us. I’m glad he’s found a connection with Mémère, attentive to her discomfort.
Once we are all in the boat, Fisherman Lo pushes on the yuloh and the sampan slips into the currents of the Whangpoo.
I hold Mémère’s hand tight as Fisherman Lo sculls us across the river, rocking the boat from side to side.
He clamps a joss stick between his teeth and lights it like a long cigarette.
The end sizzles red, plumes of blue smoke curling around his head.
‘Boh-yo-boh-lo-mi,’ he says.
A thick fog rolls over us and we emerge on the glazed waters of the Lake of Eternal Reflection.
Lord Aengus gasps, then claps his hands. ‘The beauty of Turquoise Hills surpasses my expectations.’ He launches into a long poem which I tune out.
Fisherman Lo keeps his thoughts to himself but I’m pretty sure I caught him rolling his eyes.
I point out the Pavilion of Reflection, alone in the middle of the lake and linked to the rest of the palace complex by a long wooden walkway.
We sail past the pavilion, open on all sides to take advantage of the view.
It was once my mother’s favourite spot. But now, devoid of furniture and left to weather, it looks neglected and forlorn.
Fisherman Lo sculls us towards the shore where the rest of the pavilions are huddled together.
The entire palace complex, extending up the forest slopes, is built with silkwood, much loved by the hulijing for its highly reflective surface.
Hulijing are nothing if not vain. Blue-green tiles, which match to the lake, undulate along the curved eaves.
In the pavilion closest to the forest, Lord Black sits with his feet, and the hem of his tattered brown robe, dangling in the water.
‘Lord Black!’ I call out.
He waves cheerily. Once Fisherman Lo has secured his sampan to the dock, we disembark.
Lord Black greets Lord Aengus warmly. To my vampire family, he even speaks a smattering of French.
He pats my hand as I climb onto the dock.
Tony, he regards for a little longer than usual.
Finally he bows and says, ‘This one of the North Sea arrives before you unharmed.’ He doesn’t wait for introductions. ‘We must hurry.’
Only Tony and I have been to Turquoise Hills.
I worried Tony would be uncomfortable, given that the last time he was here he nearly died at my grandmother’s hands.
But he seems to be managing well. The others follow us, mouths gaping as we pass pavilion after pavilion.
The hulijing pause when they see us, curious until they see me, at which point they scurry away.
Even Max gapes at the hulijing, his eyes like saucers and his head swivelling to and fro.
‘Marianne,’ I say, ‘you need to warn your brother not to mess with the hulijing. They will drain him of his qi and leave a withered husk.’
She translates for me in a low voice. He glances at me, as if to say, I don’t believe you.
I shrug. Let him find out the hard way, then.
‘Why won’t they come and say hello?’ Lord Aengus asks. ‘Do I have something on my face? Have I become hideous and monstrous?’
‘What would you do if I said yes?’ I say.
Lord Aengus pats his face and body as if truly worried, but he can’t keep up the act and breaks into giggles.
‘I know you’d be lying because’ – he runs a hand down his body – ‘who would be able to resist this virulent, beautiful god?’ He waves at a passing hulijing and waggles his brows. ‘Hello, how’re you doing?’
The hulijing giggles behind her water sleeve, but then she recognises me and, like the others, scurries away.
‘They don’t like you, Lady Jing,’ Lord Aengus correctly deduces. ‘Why don’t you cover your head with a bag.’
‘I think you should cover your head with a bag, Mr Cultural Exchange. Or’ – I smile sweetly – ‘perhaps you’d prefer a vase?’
‘How very dare you,’ he huffs, but there’s no real bite to it.
By now we’ve arrived at the Hall of Preserved Harmony and Lord Black leads the way through the huge wooden doors into the massive hall.
Painted golden foxes frolic across wood ceilings held up by two columns of stately golden silkwood pillars.
In the centre of the room on a dais, surrounded by silk pillows, my grandmother Niang Niang reclines on a rosewood throne.
Her bosom, tightly encased in a plummy silk gauze, gleams almost as much as the silkwood.
Her handmaids, similarly dressed in variations of plum, pink and peach silk robes, ta-tas near bursting out of their dresses, stand in two rows either side of the dais.
‘Yoohoo, dear Sister Niang,’ Lord Black says, waving a frayed sleeve.
Niang Niang holds out a hand to inspect her nails, her ring and pinky fingers encased in imperial jade nail guards. ‘Dragon,’ she says in a bored drawl, not bothering to look up, though I catch the angry rise of her chest. ‘What brings you uninvited to my palace?’
‘Visiting,’ he says pleasantly.
She spends some time admiring her nails before deigning to lift her head and grant us her attention.
‘I see you brought friends. Queen Mother of the West’s favourite, Lord Aengus, we meet again, and so soon.
You look much . . . inflated,’ she finishes with a mean curl to her lip.
‘And my granddaughter’s mortal pet—’ Tony stands tall, holding his ground.
Niang Niang gives him an odd look, wrinkles her nose.
Her gaze moves to the Durands. ‘I know that stink.’
‘Grandmother, it’s always a pleasure,’ I say. ‘Allow me to introduce you to my paternal grandmother, Aliénor de Durand, my half-brother Maximilien and half-sister Marianne. They have come all the way from France to pay their respects.’
I give Mémère the nod. She steps forward and bends into a low bow. Max misses my cue since he’s gaping at the handmaids, so Marianne yanks him into an appropriate bow.
Marianne says, ‘Esteemed Niang Niang, we have travelled far to bask in your glory and ask a question of you: we are looking for a demon hunter’s shrine. Can you tell us where it is?’
Niang Niang smooths out imaginary wrinkles on her dress. ‘Very presumptuous to show up uninvited and demand I entertain your idle curiosity. I have no idea what you’re talking about. You can show yourself out.’ My dear grandmother turns away, expecting us to comply.
Marianne says, ‘Venerable Niang Niang, before we take our leave, let us show you the gifts we brought from France.’
She gestures to Mémère, who steps forward and starts to unbutton her dress. I frown. No one said anything about stripping. What in Tian?
Lord Aengus watches with casual interest, while Tony keeps his eyes focused off to the far right. Lord Black smiles pleasantly, hands clasped behind him.
Mémère’s black dress pools around her feet, revealing luminous dewy skin, paler than tofu, white as fresh snow, so smooth and even it looks almost lacquered.
A pale pink lace bra adorned with ribbons and frills makes her breasts seem impossibly round and pert; matching underwear, cut high, accentuates long, shapely legs.
Niang Niang’s eyes go round with envy. There is admiration in her gaze.
Marianne takes a paper parcel from her bag.
‘For venerable Niang Niang, we offer as a gift Parisian lingerie, world-renowned for its ability to enhance our best features. In addition, my grandmother is willing to share her beauty secrets in exchange for the location of the demon hunter shrine.’ She offers the parcel with both hands.
A handmaiden takes the parcel up the dais steps, unwrapping it before holding the lingerie up for Niang Niang’s inspection.
The colours are well chosen – garnet, coral, lilac, sapphire. All colours Niang Niang is partial to. She holds the bra, glancing between it and Mémère. ‘What are these beauty secrets you speak of?’ Niang Niang says, doing a poor job of hiding her eagerness.
‘Will you permit my grandmother to approach you?’ Marianne asks.
Niang Niang stares at my grandmother, hostility warring with greed. Finally she nods.
Mémère walks towards her in nothing but her lacy underwear and a pair of matching pink stiletto heels which make her hips sway. I stare at the heels, distinctly remembering she wore black boots at the jetty. She must have changed in the sampan.
‘See and feel how smooth my grandmother’s skin is. She is naturally quite hairy.’
Mémère extends her leg for Niang Niang to inspect. Niang Niang peers at it before running two fingers over Mémère’s shin, like she’s checking for dust, shaking her head the whole while.
‘My grandmother can teach you how to achieve a jade garden,’ Marianne says.
Mémère turns her back to us, facing Niang Niang. I can’t see, but whatever she does makes Niang Niang jerk back, eyes wider than I’ve ever seen.
‘She’s normally very hairy?’ Niang Niang says.
Marianne smirks, clearly pleased with her choice of gift. ‘Very,’ she confirms.
Niang Niang looks like she’s staring at Mémère’s crotch.
Jade garden? I look at the others to see if any of them understand what my grandmothers are talking about.
Neither Max nor Lord Aengus are paying the least bit of attention – both are making eyes at the hulijing handmaids.
Lord Black watches the exchange with polite interest. Tony, however, is studying the floor and his ears are bright red.
He knows. But he probably won’t tell me, so I turn back to the dais.
Whatever it is, Niang Niang is clearly impressed. She nods at Mémère, a sign of grudging respect. ‘Fine. I will tell you in exchange for the secret to making a jade garden.’
Mémère bows and is about to leave the dais when Niang Niang points at her shoes.
Barefoot, Mémère returns to Marianne’s side, wearing her lingerie and a satisfied smile.
‘I’ve heard talk of the shrine,’ Niang Niang says, ‘though I’ve never seen it. If it exists, it will be just beyond our eastern borders, where the mountains meet the forest.’
Marianne takes out another parcel from her bag, and gives it to a handmaiden. ‘We have written out detailed instructions. However, my grandmother is willing to return and show you how to properly use the wax.’
Niang Niang stands ready to dismiss us. But as she stares down at Mémère, her eyes fill with some unspoken emotion.
‘I cannot pretend to understand the Cosmos. They killed my Rey. Perhaps that was my punishment. In the end, I made sure none of them survived.’ With that, she descends the dais and leaves the Hall, her handmaids following her in one long train.
‘That was certainly eye-opening,’ Lord Black quips. ‘I think I know where this shrine can be found.’ He gestures for us to come close. ‘Don’t be alarmed, we’re going to travel my way, by dragon pearl.’
Lord Aengus tries to get to his knees, no doubt to spew courtly piss-fart about being honoured to travel by dragon pearl, but Lord Black grabs him by the arm.
‘No need, I already know,’ he says to Lord Aengus, then turns to me. ‘I fixed your dragon pearl, by the way. I’ll place it for you later.’ He dips his chin.