Chapter 26 #2
Her face twists with insult and anger and it’s a joy to watch.
I wager her reaction will end in a foot stamping, but I can’t stay to enjoy the spectacle.
I take a deep breath. In one smooth motion, I throw the staff at Niang Niang and leap backwards.
As my body arches and twists towards the shimmering blue waters, my grandmother shrieks and I hear the unmistakeable stamp of her foot.
Still smiling, I slice through the water head first into cold and wet that swallow me whole.
Momentum pushes me downwards through the crystal-clear lake.
Seabed flowers with bright pink and orange tendrils sway in the currents and dot the lakebed between tufts of dark green seaweed fronds.
When the current has taken me a safe distance from the net, I look back.
Niang Niang stands at the edge of the pavilion, her image wavering and distorted.
For the first time I can remember, I’m not seized with a paralysing fear.
Now I can identify why I was afraid, now I know their faces, the watery shadows don’t frighten me anymore.
Although, as I glide along, I slowly lose momentum and start to sink.
Flapping my hands only slows me even more.
It feels like I’m being squeezed from all sides, the pressure increasing as I sink into the depths of the lake.
Rotted turd on a stick – I did not think this through.
I don’t know how to swim, and even if I did, where do I go from here?
I don’t know which direction to head, nor even how far Shanghai is from Turquoise Hills.
The thought is overwhelming and the weight of hopelessness bears down on me until green-black seaweed wraps around my legs and my feet sink into soft mud.
Above me, ribbons of light ripple through the water, and little red fish flash as they dart between the rays of sunlight.
Horsey’s voice keeps me moving. Labour your grindstone, Lady Jing. One foot in front of the other, I push myself into the unknown, away from Niang Niang’s court.
While it’s a pleasant surprise to find there is no hardship in not breathing, the squeezing sensation is uncomfortable.
I float-walk to the other end of the lake, figuring out by trial and error how to use my hands to propel me forward.
My clothes slow my progress though, constantly getting caught on seaweed.
I wriggle out of my shirt and trousers, but I’m loathe to leave them at the bottom of the lake.
I scrunch them into as small a packet as I can and keep pushing forward.
The water glides around me more easily now that I’m just wearing my dudou and tap pants.
I wonder whether Horsey would understand, given the circumstances.
A strong current of cold water sends me lurching sideways and tears my bundle of clothes from my grasp.
The fast-moving water blurs my surroundings, and it’s not until I regain my balance and the water settles that I notice I’m in shadow.
A huge serpentine creature circles above me, blocking out the sun.
Tian. I’d forgotten about the thing in the lake.
I wish I’d had the foresight to bring my homemade staff with me.
I scrabble around looking for something, anything, to help me fight off the creature.
All I come away with are handfuls of mud and slippery kelp.
In moments, I’m surrounded by black scales, the serpentine body undulating around me.
It’s so long and twisty I can’t see the head or tail.
The scaly spiral constricts. I put out my hands – maybe I can stop it from squeezing me to death.
My fingers graze something soft. Fur? I try to get a better look but am confronted with a huge silver eye.
My reflection wavers in the black pupil.
The eye blinks. Long black lashes flutter in the water.
‘This lonely one basks in your glory, Lady Jing. I am surprised to see your fragrant self in the Lake of Eternal Reflection.’ The voice reverberates in my mind, clear and calm, and strangely familiar. It makes my ears tickle.
The creature pulls its head back so I can see it more clearly.
A long muzzle with two thick silver whiskers on either side of a broad black nose.
Silver fur lines its jaw and cheeks; the original dragon beard emulated by many of the older deities.
Black antlers sprout from its forehead, curve over a thick silver mane that extends downwards along the spine of the creature’s undulating body.
This is no wild beast of the lake. This is one of the dragon kings.
I hurriedly bow my head and offer a fist palm salute.
‘Venerable Lord Black, Dragon King of the North, ten thousand years of good health. It is good to see you again,’ I say, or at least try to say.
For the most part, only bubbles come out.
Nevertheless, Lord Black seems to understand. ‘This one of the North Sea arrives before Little Jing unharmed.’
I smile awkwardly. What does one say when one happens upon another at the bottom of a lake?
How does one communicate via bubbles? This was not covered in the Analects, the bible of Confucian etiquette.
Lord Black seems to be waiting for my response.
I gesture around me, smiling and nodding, try to communicate nice lake.
Lord Black tilts his great head, eyes flashing.
Amusement? Irritation? I can’t quite tell.
His silver fur waves in the water as his long body circles around me.
I search for an escape route. I’m still in Niang Niang’s territory and I don’t know what alliances the dragon king might have with my venerable fiend of a grandmother.
Light webs over the lakebed. I can’t have this rotted Lord send me back to Niang Niang, but there is nowhere to hide. I poke at his scales and wave my hands as politely as I can to gesture go away.
I think he smiles. Or grimaces. I’m not good at deciphering dragon faces. He purses black, smooth lips, then says into my mind, ‘I have something for you. Will you come with me?’
I pretend to be coy and shake my head then try to scramble out of the coils. But they constrict, holding me tight.
‘I’m afraid I must insist.’ Lord Black dips his chin in a sharp gesture. The world pivots, there’s a strange sucking sensation, and I find myself standing, dripping wet, in a bright white cavern.