Scarring jasmine-Chapter Twenty Eight Exposure

09/21/2024 Saturday 60-80F Mostly Cloudy

After seeing Jasmine fishing at the pond for a whole afternoon, Qian decided to do something for her.

“Jasmine,” he laid his hand on Jasmine’s largely brimmed straw hat, “how is your catch? I saw you from the rear window of my study.” He peeked at the bucket standing by her stool, “The bucket is empty; it seems that you haven’t gotten anything yet.” 

Jasmine smiled but kept her eyes on the line from behind her veil: “It isn’t surprising. There is no bait on my hook. I am just passing the time.” 

“Are you bored staying at home?” Qian put his hand in the veil to stroke her chin, “Do you want to go out with me?” 

“Now?” Jasmine started to reel her line out. 

No, this evening. I will go meet some friends and business partners; on that occasion sometimes, they bring their girlfriends or concubines. I would like you to go with me this time so I can introduce you to them.” 

Jasmine’s eyes darkened. “Girlfriends and concubines”—Both her father and her former father-in-law Wang didn’t like her to go socially; since now her role was a concubine, so she was supposed to socialize with others. “Ok.” She answered and withdrew her empty hook.

Before they left in the evening, Qian helped Jasmine select her dress—It was obvious that she didn’t like fancy colors; but he also didn’t want her to look dull. Eventually, he picked a green dress for her: “How about this one? Its color matches your emerald bangles.” So Jasmine’s outfit of that day was decided. 

“Master, will you and Third Madam take palanquins or car this evening?” A servant came in and asked. 

“Palanquins!” Qian instructed while his eyes were still on Jasmine, watching her draw her eyebrows. “Wait,” he thought of something, “car, we will go out by car!” The servant took the order and left. Qian walked to Jasmine and assisted her to finish her drawing to his taste.

Sitting in the car, Qian felt remarkably satisfied. His life wasn’t easy when he was young; it had been up and down, and he had suffered through a lot of extremely terrible things. However, he was the one who succeeded; he revived his family. 

Right now, he had a large fortune which kept growing every moment even during his sleep: The interest of the loans provided to the railroads; the investments in the banks and seaports; the profits by subcontracting infrastructure; the taxes collected from the licenses; and of course, the salt business, which he inherited from his father but later expanded tremendously. 

His principle was: Money talks. As long as he could solve the issues with money, he wouldn’t consider any other way. For example, rather than operating an enterprise himself, he preferred to be the investor—He used his money to let others help him grow his money. Every day he was busy thinking about not how to earn more money, but where to spend his money. “I don’t like headaches. Everyone has his own niche; I have been pretty damn lucky up to now in my investments, so I should let it be!”

And he had two sons, both of whom graduated from college. The elder son, smart and careful, was working for him, and next Spring would get married. “A man shouldn’t marry early. He ought to enjoy himself first then it will be easier for him to settle down.”

His younger son was a more spoiled wild young man, who had been quiet at home for a while after wrecking his car and causing two persons’ death in Shanghai earlier in the year. Hopefully he would learn the lesson and draw in his claws. 

About his marriage, it also should be considered a success. His wife was from a Manchurian royal family, a real princess. She was pretty when she was young; she brought in a big fortune when she married him which later became his seed capital; she had borne and raised two sons for him. “She definitely has done her needful. Even though I never fancied her, I have been nice to her all these years. I did go to brothels sometimes at my earlier age, but I only brought Bitao home. It would be unreasonable if this angered her. Every business partner of mine has at least three or four private mistresses. Compared to them, I am a much more faithful husband.”

He didn’t really mean to marry Bitao as his concubine. At that time, she wasn’t the prettiest one among those courtesans whom he used to visit; yet she had one precious pair of “Golden Lotus” feet, which were bound as small as his wife’s. Because of that, she was one of the most popular courtesans in Shanghai, and years of experience dealing with men had trained her very well about how to manipulate a man’s mind. She could please him, plus her pair of golden lotus feet convinced him to say yes when she begged him to buy her out from her brothel. He spent ten thousand silver coins and housed her in one of his properties in Shanghai. Afterward, he felt it was too troublesome for him to commute between Wuxi and Shanghai, so he moved her into his house.

His wife and Bitao had lived under the same roof for sixteen years. Fortunately, they never had any open arguments during that time. His wife had become colder and colder to him, which on the other hand also pushed him to seek tenderness from Bitao. 

While now his wife was fifty years old, Bitao was thirty-nine; he thought that perhaps his interest in women had gone, until that day he met Jasmine. Her clothes were plain; her hair was natural; and one bunch of bok choy’s green leaves peeped out curiously from her basket. She walked on the street in a simple, graceful way, which had drawn his attention from quite a distance. Then, with great interest, he saw her bend down and give a beggar a few coppers. Finally, when she raised her head and glanced at his palanquin, he found that she had the most beautiful face he had ever seen, as beautiful as his mother.

In the memory of his childhood, his mother was the prettiest woman, and had bound feet. One early summer afternoon, he woke up from his nap and walked drowsily toward his mother’s room to look for her; the door was closed but not locked, and some strange sounds came from behind it. He pushed the door slightly open and peered in: By the bed on the floor, he saw his parents’ shoes; then he moved his sight up to the bed, where he found his father riding on his mother busy doing something. They both were nude; at the father's waist, he saw his mother’s little golden lotus feet—They looked as playful as two white doves.

His mother died when he was ten, but that afternoon’s scene had remained vivid in his brain for forty-three years. Perhaps that was why he was so obsessed with bound feet women. Jasmine had natural feet, which was his biggest regret about her; besides, she wasn’t a virgin. He wasn’t interested at all in her upbringing, education, and the cause of the declination of her family; however, if he could have been her first man, if he could have made her feet little, he would spend his entire fortune on marrying her.

“Nothing can be perfect; I shouldn’t torture myself for something impossible!” He felt uneasy upon thinking about Jasmine’s two flaws. “She is obedient, quiet, and sweet, like a Pekingese dog—I can tender it whenever I want; and when I am busy, I can leave it alone all day long without hearing one bark from it. No trouble, no risk, and no headache, a darling investment for myself! 

For certain she will outlive me; before that I should have some fun. When I am getting too old for her and if she doesn’t have my child, I will give her some good money to let her go; if she can bear children for me, then her children definitely will get shares of my assets. Bitao was just a whore, unqualified to carry my family’s blood, and she is too old to get pregnant now.” This thought excited Qian; he caught Jasmine’s hand and squeezed it lovingly.

The cold touch of Qian’s emerald ring awoke Jasmine’s memory. It had been two months since last time she sat in this car on her wedding day; Qian stayed in her place every night even though he often wasn’t home during the daytime. She felt that she couldn’t relax: Her brain was under tension all the time. “Why?” She asked herself. She lived in a large house, owned her own place and a lotus pond; First Madam seemed to like her which Bitao could do nothing about; her family’s financial issue seemed to be solved. So what was her problem? 

Perhaps because she was fearful. In her first marriage, she couldn’t please her husband therefore he divorced her; and her previous mother-in-law called her “a hen that lays no eggs”. She had no confidence in herself. Other than her face and obedience, what else could she do to please Qian further? to make his desire for her last longer? Probably to have a child would be the best solution, but who knew when she could get one?

And the relationship with Zhao was another thorn in her heart. Her mother lied to Qian’s matchmaker; he didn’t die, or at least they didn’t know whether he died or not. Zhao was a possessive man, suppose one day he found her here, how could she explain the whole thing to Qian? Qian had money, and was generous; if he wanted, he could spend some money to dismiss Zhao—After all, Zhao would have to accept the fact that she never wanted to see him again. She needed peace. 

She felt deeply sad. Once before she had a lot of dreams: Entering a college; being an intelligent lady; loving a man wholeheartedly…In reality, she could only function like most other women: Relying on a man; using her body to satisfy him; and having his child to secure herself. Spinning in her little world, soon she would get faded and grey. Where was she in her own life?

They arrived at their destination. Upon them entering the hall, a man in a black suit called out: “Wow, Master Qian looks great! And who is that lady?” 

“Mr. Ye, how are you?” Qian took off his hat and gave that man one slight nod as a greeting, “I would like to present my newly wedded concubine Jasmine to you. Jasmine, this is my business partner Mr. Ye, he is from Shanghai.”

“And your admirer!” Right after Qian’s introduction, the black suit man bowed to her, and held out his hand, “Nice to meet you madam!” Jasmine hesitated for a moment, then gave her hand to him. He kissed on it directly without making an inquiry with Qian. 

“She looks so pretty! Master Qian, where is she from?” A lady asked. 

“Suzhou.” Qian nodded at that lady, trying to cover his annoyance caused by Mr. Ye. 

“No wonder! People used to boast that the real beauties could only be found in Suzhou.” Mr. Ye jumped in, “Elder Brother, I beg your pardon--It is your fault. You shouldn’t have hidden your jewel from us. Now the wind turned the stone and finally we got to see your secret treasure!” 

“Master Qian, you should restrain your partner! Every time he sees a pretty girl, his bones get itchy.” Another lady guest tapped her finger on Mr. Ye’s head, pretending that she was offended by his words, “Let me ask you: I am not from Suzhou, am I pretty or not?” 

“Of course my sweet heart, you are not from Suzhou but from Heaven!” He begged. 

A loud laughter burst out among the guests.

Later Qian sat down and started to play cards with his friends; but he kept Jasmine around him so she wouldn’t be out of his sight even for one second. The way Mr. Ye and the other men looked at her made him feel very uneasy; he secretly regretted taking her here—He wanted to show her off a bit yet had forgotten that these men were very good at seducing women, and some of them were quite young and handsome, such as Mr. Ye. They were unprincipled; they definitely wouldn’t mind stealing their own brothers’ wives if they were interested. Jasmine was too inexperienced to resist other men’s temptation, so he mustn’t let any man find a chance to be alone with her.

He played badly that evening, lost almost every round of cards. While waiting for the shuffle, one friend teased: “Master Qian, what’s the matter? It seemed that you didn’t carry your soul with your body today.”

“Don’t be a fool!” another friend disagreed, “I bet Master Qian’s soul and body are quite together, just not with us.”

Someone else followed: “Haven’t you all heard: Love or gamble, a man can only be lucky at one. Master Qian has made his vote, then the rest of us are left with no choice!”

The men at the table all chuckled. Jasmine felt embarrassed and wanted to walk away, Qian held her hand. “Let me finish this round then we will go home.” He spoke to her in an undertone.

Several days later Qian received an invitation letter from Mr. Ye. In this letter he invited Qian, “as well as Madam Jasmine”, to join a party hosted in his house two days after. “I am very much looking forward to seeing you and your beautiful flower at my party.” 

“Disgusting! A bunch of wolves!” Qian couldn’t restrain his anger. He crushed the letter and called to the servant: “Go tell Mr. Ye’s messenger: Madam Jasmine is ill; she won’t go to any party. And I will stay at home with her!”

From then on, Qian never took Jasmine out again to attend any event or dinner. 

Even though, Bitao was jealous. She complained to First Madam: “Elder sister, that’s too much! Our master sleeps with Jasmine almost every day since she came. He isn’t a young man; he should be careful about his health! And he dines with her, buys her gifts; I haven’t seen him for days! Elder sister, you are the mistress here!” Then she targeted at Jasmine, “She isn’t a naive girl; she should care for her man as well! She can’t just let master do whatever he wants to please him!”

First Madam just smiled. She felt that Jasmine avenged her on Bitao, whom she had disdained for many years. She was a princess; both her parents were from significant families in Beijing. Qian had sworn his oath by her father’s dying bed, that he wouldn’t marry any women other than her. Her father believed his oath; perhaps also because the father wanted to marry off his only daughter before he died so he chose to trust Qian. Thus, Qian became her husband. 

Then her father passed away, Qian brought her to Wuxi. She admitted that she had a few happy years with Qian after their marriage. Three years later, she got her first son Bojun; after another three years, her second son Zhongyou was born; and seven more years went by, she was pregnant again. It was the same year her husband decided to move Bitao into this house. He got himself a concubine while she was pregnant; he even didn’t want to postpone his decision until she delivered the baby; he didn’t care about her feelings, only his fun; and he had completely forgotten about the oath which he made to her father. She knew that he went to brothels, and that he had some other women outside; but so long as he wasn’t serious about marrying them into this house, she would choose to close her eyes. That behavior could be his last respect for her and for his oath. 

Eventually, he crossed her line; however, she could do nothing about it. He already had everything of hers; she became faded and old, and her body lost its charm from carrying children. Therefore, she was just a used rag to him!

One month after Bitao moved in, due to the distress and depression, she lost her third child, a boy as well, in the fourth month of her pregnancy. She considered Bitao the murderer of her unborn son. As far as her noble upbringing, she suppressed her resentments and maintained her silence. “Let her win my husband; let her enjoy her short moments. I must retain my sophistication. What I have experienced will be her future!”

She smiled, rested her head on her tucked arm, and ordered the maid to prepare another pipe of opium for her. “Stupid!” She thought in her mind, “A whore is forever a whore, who only cares about fighting for men! She is incapable of understanding what the real amusement is!” She took a puff of the opium and inhaled deeply.