I stand. ‘I’ll let Big Wang know we have an incident to deal with. He can inform Niang Niang.’
One of the Bo-Ba hulijings screams and faints. The rest shake with terror at the mention of the matriarch of the Hulijing Court– Niang Niang. My darling homicidal grandmother who tried to have me drowned.
‘Please, no.’ Lady Min sounds so pitiful, I’m hit with a pang of something soft, tender and unwelcome. I try to shake the feeling away.
I know too well the paralysing fear my grandmother inspires. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. The soft icky feeling grows and I find myself seated in the chair once more.
Mafan is coming for me whether I like it or not, so I might as well roll with it.
‘I’ll bring this to Big Wang. He’ll know how best to handle Niang Niang. Now start from the beginning and tell me exactly what happened.’
Four
The Vase
Six of us – the five hulijing courtiers and me – kneel in Big Wang’s office, waiting for him to return. Lord Aengus is perched on one of the horseshoe-back chairs behind us, the blue and white porcelain of his vase gleaming against the honeyed huali wood, blond hair still pinned to the cushion to hold his face upright.
The envoy is bright red, as he should be. If it wasn’t for his withholding key information about his health, and his foolhardy insistence on ‘cultural exchange’ with the courtiers, we would not be on our knees, forced to have this excruciating conversation.
Celestials all smell of gingery flint and crushed chalk, while hulijing are also marked with a honeyed fishy scent. The five of them, like most Celestials, are doused with perfume. Confined in Big Wang’s modestly sized office, the pungent smells make my throat itch.
Big Wang enters the room in a bright coral robe open to the waist and tied with an emerald green sash. His blue-black scalp gleams under the electric lights as he surveys the room. When he reaches Lord Aengus, his gaze pauses briefly, before he turns, grabbing a bottle of cognac and a glass from a nearby sideboard.
Seated at his desk he pours himself a cognac, then takes a cigar from his drawer. With a specially carved jade pin, he pokes a hole in one end, then slowly toasts the other over a turquoise tortoise-shaped table lighter. The cigar sizzles to life. All this time, Big Wang has not once looked our way.
He takes a slow drag. Smoke billows and coils around him, forming a hazy veil through which the cigar end glows like a lantern in the fog. The cognac he swirls briefly. Instead of sipping, the way he usually does, he knocks back the entire glass.
This is not a good sign.
When Big Wang finally raises his gaze, three blazing embers glare at us through the smoke. ‘Explain, Little Jing.’
I can’t help the slow exhale of frustration that seeps from me. I grit my teeth so I don’t scream at Lord Aengus for getting us into this mafan and count to twenty for good measure. Staring at my knees, which are starting to hurt, I recite in a monotone the events that led us here.
‘Venerable Lord Aengus wished to get to know the hulijing courtiers and accepted their invitation to play kanhoo last night. They ordered five rounds of cocktails to their rooms and became very drunk. Lord Aengus wanted to know how it felt to have his awen – the yang qi unique to the Tuatha Dé – taken from him; the courtiers did not wish to do so, however Lord Aengus insisted and held out his wrist.
‘The hulijing refused, so Lord Aengus suggested an exchange. He absorbed awen from the plants in the hulijings’ suite, and then returned it and made the plants bloom. The hulijing courtiers showed him how they absorb yang qi, taking some awen from his wrist.
‘The group was very drunk by now so the order of events is not as clear. At some point, Lord Aengus invited them all to exchange qi, so some of the hulijing ministers, possibly all – it is unclear – tried to imbue him with their qi, while some, possibly all, absorbed his qi in return.’
At this I stop, embarrassed by the childishness of their antics and having to explain this to Big Wang. Lady Min starts to weep. Big Wang puffs on his cigar. I can’t look at him nor the hulijing, so I raise my eyes to the ceiling and continue my report.
‘Lord Aengus failed to inform us that he suffers from a medical condition triggered by over-expending his awen, or by allowing his awen to be drained. Lord Aengus did both of these. The group continued to play kanhoo, until one by one they fell asleep. When they awoke, Lord Aengus was...’ I gesture vaguely at the chair where Lord Aengus sits in his vase.
The courtiers are openly crying now. I lean forward to ease the pins and needles in my legs.
‘That is quite the story.’ Big Wang sips his cognac and smokes his cigar as he contemplates the six of us kneeling before his desk. The red glow of his pupils has dimmed and fine lines crinkle at the corner of his eyes.
Is he laughing? As if he can hear my thoughts, he clears his throat and pulls on his mahjong face.
‘We are in a troublesome spot,’ he says in measured tones. ‘Lord Aengus, you are an honoured guest in the Realms of Hell. Under the terms of the International Treaty of Immortal Harmony, any insult or injury to your noble person while in our realm is clearly our responsibility.’ Big Wang’s pupils glow red. ‘Our ignorance of your condition mitigates what otherwise would be a severe offence to Tuatha Dé. If we had known, this unfortunate incident could have been avoided entirely.’
‘Ten thousand apologies, venerable Yan Luo Wang,’ Lord Aengus says. ‘This is my fault, I should never have suggested we swap qi.’ His eyebrows knit in concern at the hulijing. ‘The courtiers were completely innocent in all this. Please do not reprimand them.’ He clears his throat. ‘Raise high your noble hand, take pity and do not let my father know I misled you.’
Big Wang leans forward to scrutinise Lord Aengus. I’m impressed by how long Lord Aengus lasts before dropping his gaze.
Big Wang watches him a little longer before glancing down at the weeping hulijing. ‘Ministers,’ he says. ‘Please find a seat. We will solve nothing with tears.’
Envy stabs me as I watch the hulijing rise. It might have hurt more if I had any feeling left in my legs. The courtiers dab their eyes and give Big Wang a deep ninety-degree bow.
