The Nine Fold Heaven. Mingmei Yip
miss. You better get used to it while you’re still young. Anyway, go home and read it over, and you’ll be able to understand your situation. Pay attention to ‘she leaves like a cicada shedding its shell’ and also ‘golden lights shine at the end of her journey.’ These are all good predictions. Have you heard the saying, ‘A hidden dragon does not act’?”
I nodded, though I was not completely sure what it meant.
He went on. “When a person is not ready, she should be like the dragon who does not act. Not until the right moment arrives, then she’ll soar to the nine fold heaven, looking down on the ordinary as she enjoys her long-awaited success and glory.”
He studied me. “Miss, you must hide now like the hidden dragon, but one day you will be the dragon that soars to the nine fold heaven.”
“Thank you, master.” I nodded, savoring his every word.
“Remember, miss, heaven only advises, you must take your fate in your own hands. That’s all I can say about your fortune.”
He scrutinized me for seconds. “But I can give you some personal advice if you like.”
“Please.”
He studied me carefully, then spoke as if reciting a riddle. “You are beautiful. For some that brings good luck, for others, tragedy. When beauty is on your side, even the moon and stars lose their brilliance. But someday it will leave you. Be careful not to end up with a hard heart and an unfeeling body. Because if that happens, even if good fortune approaches you, it will give you no happiness.
“Remember, the greatest fortune is not beauty, but family. That’s where you can always return.” He thought for a while, then recited something I recognized was from the sage Laozi’s Classic of the Way and Virtue:
The ten thousand things arise and return to their origin.
Returning to the origin is called tranquility.
Tranquility is recovering your original nature.
Recovering your original nature is called the unchanging.
Knowing the unchanging is called enlightenment.
To not know the unchanging is calamity.
When finished, he added, “Miss, now when you have your beauty, don’t give all your attention to it and neglect other things. Look for the unchanging in your life—find your root and you will find tranquility, even happiness, that’s all I can say.”
An abandoned orphan, I had no root that I could trace. Nor tranquility now that I was on the run from two gangs!
But I said, trying my best to sound calm, “Master, but the Book of Changes says that everything changes.”
He cast me a curious glance. “Yes, but we’re not talking about this impermanent world, but the one beyond, the true, original one.”
“Oh . . . that makes sense,” I responded, although I actually had no idea what he meant.
It was time to leave. Part of my spy training was never to stay in one place for too long, no matter how much I found it appealing.
“Master, how much do I owe you?”
He waved a jade-ringed hand. “Let’s not talk about money today. This is a very unusual encounter, so the temple won’t charge you. Because if money is involved, the magic will be gone.”
What sort of magic, I wondered. I hoped not like my magician friend Shadow’s staged version.
The master spoke again. “Find your root. Then magic will follow.”
“I will.” I thanked him again and took my leave.
During my way back on the crude, muddy path, I tried to decipher the enigmatic poem on the slip and what it had to do with the diviner’s portentous advice. It had taken all I could summon in myself to become the talented, charming, and mysterious singer, Camilla the Heavenly Songbird. What would be left without my beauty? It was my weapon against men and their power. But I also knew that time does not wait for anyone, and one day my beauty would be completely gone like a gambler’s money at the roulette table.
2
A Plunging Toddler
When I arrived back at the main road, I heard a commotion. I hurried across the street to where a small group of people stood, looking upward while emitting heated comments in the hot air. Curious, I squeezed my way to the front and looked.
On the second floor of a dilapidated building, a toddler was standing by a wide-open window and looking down on the street, his eyes open as wide as the window where tears rolled down his cheeks.
His mouth opened to emit hysterical screams, “Mama! Mama! Mama! I want my mama! Mama!”
Someone in the crowd lamented. “Ah . . . where’s his mother? So heartless to leave her child like this all by himself!”
A plump woman exclaimed, “Oh, yes, you have no idea how neglectful some mothers are! I heard that one even locked her child in a closet so she could play mahjong with her friends. When she came home, he was swimming in his own foam and vomit!”
Another woman added, “Yes, mothers like this might as well give birth to a piece of roasted pork to eat! At least she’d get some nutrition out of it!”
The small crowd burst into nervous laughter. But no one did anything to help. Anyway, what could they do since no one knew who or where the mother was? Even if someone dashed up to the floor where the toddler lived, no one would come and open the door. Even if the rescuer could break open the apartment door, it might be worse. What about if the toddler would be startled by the sound and jump?
I looked at the little boy and felt pain wringing my heart. What if this toddler were my baby, Jinjin, neglected, scared, and about to jump to his . . . to turn from a handsome baby to bleeding flesh and shattered bones? Just then the baby, crying and feet wobbling, began to totter. . . .
It was as if my little Jinjin were calling “Mama! Mama!” In a moment I had pushed aside the nattering onlookers and was standing under the window. I rooted myself firmly on the ground and reached up. In a split second, I felt a heavy object drop into my grasp, seeming to almost pull my arms from their sockets. Searing pain spread from my shoulders to my chest, and I fainted amidst cries and horrified exclamations....
Someone must have called an ambulance because I awoke to find myself in a medicinal-smelling hospital room. A fortyish nurse’s round face hovered over mine.
“Good, you’re finally awake.”
“Where am I?” I looked around. It was a relatively small room with four beds. Two were empty and the one across from me was taken by a wrinkled old woman, asleep and snoring loudly.
“Kwong Wah Hospital in Waterloo Road.”
“How’s the baby?” I asked, while suddenly feeling confused. What baby did I refer to? Was it my son, Jinjin? No, now I remembered. It was the one who’d been crying and tottering on the second floor of an apartment building.
“He’s doing fine, no bones broken, just some minor scratches. A miracle baby.”
“I’m glad to hear that. How lucky!”
“He was amazingly lucky that you happened to be standing there. You’re lucky, too, that your shoulders aren’t dislocated. Then you would have had them in slings for months.”
She leaned closer to my face. “Miss, you are very brave.”
I chuckled inside. So in a mere week I’d turned from an emotionless, murderous spy into a courageous and compassionate baby rescuer.
“Where is the boy now, can I go visit him?” I asked, then immediately regretted it. It would draw unwanted attention to me. I knew the reason I wanted to see the toddler was because I wanted to pour my motherly love to someone, since Jinjin’s