“If could be forgotten, even then,” he answered. “But you will not bear the Emperor a child.”
She said simply: “I do not know, yet.”
“Let the child be mine—be ours,” he said.
She answered: “No. And it is not right that you and I should talk of these things, under the same roof as my father.”
“I cannot understand your mind,” he protested. “What difference does it make to truth if your father be sleeping here, under the same roof? Does your father know who you are? Did he not lose his responsibility for you a while ago, when you left him? It is the Emperor who should answer to your father. Do you hate the Emperor?”
She answered: “I do not know. I had never slept with him before—or with any man. I do not know if I hate him. I only know that I have not slept for a long while, and my eyes are heavy. Even so, I am not sure whether I shall sleep.”
“You will sleep,” he said. “Lie down. So. I will stay with you—nothing more. It seems foolish to act thus, but I am prepared to be foolish. Lie down. Put your head down, so, away from the thin moon against the window. A rug over you—thus. Now I shall count this as one of the emergencies of Mencius, for I shall hold your hand in mine, so, and you will sleep. . . . You do not want to ask Wang Wei about the Emperor, do you? He would know if you were going to have a child. These doctors know far too much. A husband should know—not a doctor, but if you wish. . . .”
She murmured: “No. It would be wise of you and better for both of us, if you went next door. You will become famous, like your uncle Li Po—it is not right for you to think of me, who would only be a weight against your climbing. Leave me alone, and forget. They are there, and you say they are asleep.” She took her hand from his. He was not sure if there was the faintest squeeze. . . .
He tiptoed to the door, and behind him Winter Cherry’s breathing settled down into the steady breathing of one who is asleep.
Ah Lai stood before the bed on which Honeysuckle and Clear Rain lay. The single small lamp which they had forgotten to put out threw a gentle light over their dark heads, turned towards each other. A gleam was reflected back to him from Honeysuckle’s hair, loose from its pins.
“She sent me to you,” he whispered. “And I do not want you.” He turned down the rug. “You cannot hear, so what does it matter if I say, again, that I do not want you? My uncle would write a poem about the petals of flowers, seeing the breasts of Honeysuckle, I know. And he would include the moon, for good measure, and weave a silken scarf of words about you as you lie there for me to see. He would imagine you as all the girls whom he has ever desired, and speak of his desire in allegory and metaphor. He would bring his mouth between your breasts and say: ‘I love you,’ in rhyme and perfect cadence. I can but follow his example, without the rhyme, so—saying not ‘I love you’ but ‘I love Winter Cherry, whom you represent and who you are, now, in my imagining.’ Then my uncle would take paper and brush and ink and put you into words. I have no words. What would he say? Or sing?
Honeysuckle opened her eyes and sat up.
“That love elixir has made me very sleepy,” she said. “And yet I did not drink much, for we girls learn to appear to drink when we really do not.”
“It was not a love elixir,” Ah Lai told her. “It was a sleeping medicine which will do no harm. I got it from the honourable Wang Wei.”
“My sister always drinks more than I do,” she said, looking at Clear Rain and drawing the rug up to the other girl’s chin. “Shall I come with you to your room?”
“I did not intend to awaken you,” he answered. “The sleeping medicine, I thought, would be enough. I was pretending that you were Winter Cherry.”
She laughed. “You are very young. Men do not usually tell girls that girls are all the same, but they think so. At least, I have found it so.” She swung herself off the bed. “Clear Rain is just like this, too. Look!” She turned down the rug, then put it back. “And if you want Winter Cherry, why do you not take her? Girls like to be taken.”
“You do not understand,” he said. “This is different.”
Honeysuckle ignored this. “This night is hot,” she went on. “Why do you not take off at any rate your outer clothes? Or we could go and swim in the pool by the woods. That will be cooler. It does not matter to me.” Then, as he hesitated, she put on a long blue coat and her shoes. “Now that I am warmer, you should be cooler,” she said. “Come—we will go to the pool.”
“I am a fool,” Ah Lai replied, following her.