A Concubine for the Family: A Family Saga in China Read Online Free Page B

onto the inkstone. While her right hand rubbed the ink stick against the stone, her left hand held the wide cuff of her jacket away. Although women in the big cities were wearing silk stockings and
cheongsams
— the sleek, shapely, ankle-length sheaths with daring side slits — Purple Jade dressed her daughters and herself in the fashions of traditional, comfortable elegance.
    Golden Bell saw an opportunity to bring up a new topic. “Oh,
M-ma
, have you prepared a present for Father yet? His birthday is only three months away!”
    “Not really. I have some ideas.” Her mother picked up the brush again and mixed the thick, pasty ink. At last she began her guest list: the Huang family relatives, the Chous (her relatives), members and associates of the legislative council, the friends and classmates of her husband from his Shanghai student days at St. John’s University.
    “Some will come from far away, from Beijing,” she said. “They will need housing in the family compound and elsewhere in town.’ She made a mark to remind herself to speak to her husband and the accountant about housing.
    “
M-ma
.” Golden Bell edged close to her mother’s desk. “May I go into town to buy a fountain pen for Father? It is so much easier than writing with brush and inkstone.”
    “Aiya, is that what your Miss Spicy-Too-Hot is teaching you?” Her mother laid down her brush. “The virtue of writing lies in the art and the thought. What does convenience have to do with it? Write a Chinese poem for your father. It will mean more to him than anything you can buy!”
    “Oh,
M-ma
, you never want anyone to have any fun.” Golden Bell stamped her foot. “You don’t understand anything!” She fled. She was afraid more hurtful words would escape her lips.
    In the back garden, clusters of whispering servants gathered around the master of the house. They consulted with the gardener and the accountant about the body from the river. What should they do about its interment? Was she an orphan from the missionary school? They must start the inquiry.
    “The river brings another body,” an elderly servant hissed. “The old Huang household in town never sees such horrors.”
    “People don’t kill when they’re not starving,” another whispered.
    “Must be a suicide!”
    Others shuffled their feet, dragging on their cigarettes. Ripples of smoke and murmuring voices rose amongst them.
    Huang Righteous Virtue was five feet eight inches tall, though he looked much taller because of his erect bearing and lanky build. He stood at least half a head taller than the men around him. He wore an ankle-length silk gown in a straight cut, with side slits reaching above his knees. The blue gown had a soft, high mandarin collar set off by cream-colored cuffs and trousers. His hair was graying near the temples. It softened the effect of his dense dark brows and sharp flashing eyes.
    It was rumored that when Righteous Virtue returned to his ancestral home after his graduation from St. John’s University in Shanghai, he refused to accept Chou Purple Jade — the bride his father had selected. To induce his compliance, his father had given him permission to establish a household of his own. This was a radical departure from tradition. Purple Jade’s father offered him land beside a causeway of West Lake, and Righteous Virtue began his marriage building their house of three courts; it adjoined the large Chou family garden.
    When Orchid, Silver Bell and Peony emerged from the workroom, the master saw them. “What are you doing here, Silver Bell?”
    “Morning peace, Father. We’re taking the silkworm eggs to the cold house.” Silver Bell held up the sheets.
    “Go to it quickly!” Her father frowned and waved her on with a sweep of his wide sleeve. “Tell your mother not to worry; everything is under control.”
    Silver Bell and Peony left. Orchid trailed behind them hoping to glean some information. She felt a sharp tug at her tunic. The