In this short chapter, we get to meet Mingxia, learn more about Hong's home life/first wife, and see Rajata continue to move up in the world along with her family.
Even in the wealthy Upper Ring, most houses were built to be neat and compact, in the name of occupying as little of the limited space inside Ba Sing Se's walls as possible. A large combination main room and receiving area normally greeted a visitor stepping through the front doors, with a few interior doors leading to additional rooms further back which were used for sleeping, dining, and storage. Behind the house proper would be a small, enclosed courtyard and back garden, which was used for both relaxation and cooking during the warmer months.
Agent Hong's home was quite different in its construction. The farmhouse he'd spent the first eighteen years of his life in, atop a hill in the Northeast Block of the Agarian Zone, had been the type of dwelling known as a siheyuan home, its halls and rooms built in a rectangle around a large central courtyard. He'd thought it was a pretty great place to live-albeit a bit remote-especially when compared to the cramped, crowded-together eyesores that packed every block of the Lower Ring.
But the farmhouse hadn't compared to the siheyuan that the good officials of the city had essentially given to Hong as a well-deserved reward after he'd found himself among the lucky thirty percent or so of trainees which managed to successfully graduate from the Stone Fist Training Academy at the age of nineteen. It was downright sprawling in comparison, with two main courtyards, an area for training and exercise, and a spacious front garden.
To be honest, even after the passage of almost a decade, it still gave Hong a surreal, awed feeling at times to step through the moon gate and walk down the garden path as he regarded his opulent domain. It felt like he'd either managed to get away with playing a gigantic trick on everyone, or that some sort of mistake had been made.
At this moment though, Hong simply felt hungry and exhausted. Just as he'd anticipated, the trio of blows he'd received from the earthbending rebel had become aching blots of crushed blood vessels underneath the ordinary dark brown cotton robes he'd changed into in his chamber at headquarters after his talk with Commander Quan, leaving him sore and stiff.
Still, his physical discomfort was tempered somewhat by the wave of satisfaction and gratitude he was continuing to ride after his success in persuading the other man.
When he strode into the first of the two south-facing courtyards, both Yun, his female Xisai terrier, and Zhu, his cousin's pug dog, were casually playing together in the morning sun, Yun parrying Zhu's energetic, snorting lunges away with her larger jaws and stroking forepaws.
But as soon as they heard the sound of Hong's stone boots, both dogs leapt to their feet and eagerly bounded forward over the marble pavement to greet the returning agent, who reminded Yun "Down girl," even as he grinned in delight, and gingerly bent forward to stroke and rub the Xisai's wiry white coat for a few moments while she tried to lick his squared chin.
"And there's our big little dog," he added with a smile to the puffing Zhu, the pug's tongue lolling as his curled tail wildly wagged.
Mingxia, his unmarried, live-in cousin, was there too, seated in a beechwood chair at a table of pale gray dolomite, laced with ribbons and tendrils of white, that Hong had bent from an outcrop of the same stone several years ago, pretty much in one piece. After transporting it home in an ostrich-horse drawn cart, he'd sent for a professional stonecutter to smooth out and polish every little surface of his new item of outdoor furniture over the next few days.
Still graceful and shapely, she'd spent the last five years sharing her older cousin's household. For the morning, she'd donned a sparrakeet green satin robe with ivory white cuffs and thick butterscotch yellow border. Jet black hair hung down well past her shoulders, crowned by a handlebar-shaped white and green hairpiece in which a pink rose was fastened.
She'd been drinking sweetened soybean milk from a soapstone cup, with her teenage maidservant, Sain, in close attendance, when Hong appeared. Green eyes sparkled with delighted recognition in her softly rounded face, nearly as pale as the marble underneath her feet, as he approached with both frolicking dogs in tow. In spite of whatever odious things he did as part of his job, he thought, his faults, at least his youngest sister and their dogs were always delighted to welcome him back home.
Her lips curved into a welcoming smile as she set the cup down and stood from her chair, saying "Look who's home! How did the shi-"
But in the next instant, his cousin cut herself short, her face falling as she realized from his posture and stiff gait that he'd had a rough time of it on his most recent patrol. "Oh Hong!" Mingxia cried in concern, slanted eyes widening as she closed the distance to him in several swift paces. "What happened out there?"
"Are you all right, Lao Yan, sir?" Sain chimed in.
He gave them both a reassuring smile as he replied, "I'll be okay. I had a difficult time with apprehending an earthbending conspiracy nut, and she gave me some lumps and bruises, but it's nothing serious."
Mingxia winced at this information.
"Did she land any hits on Guozhi?" one of his own maids asked from his left, startling Hong to the point where he nearly wheeled and earthbent at her. He hadn't even noticed her arrival, which was rather unlike him. It was touching of her to think of his partner though.
"Yes, but nothing serious."
Mingxia shook her sleek head in disgust, anger flashing briefly in her long eyes. "Goddess-damned conspiracy whackjobs. They are such a thorn in every sane person's side."
"I'd love nothing better then if they could all just go live on an island someplace and rant about their imaginary war there instead," Sain agreed.
"So would I-especially today," Hong smoothly said.
"You poor guy," Mingxia said in commiseration as she reached up to stroke his face, the sleeves of her robe falling back to reveal a thick bracelet of mint green jade and a second one of gold on her wrist. "Are you in good enough shape for me to give you a sympathy hug?" she asked hesitantly.
He nodded. "I'm feeling a bit tender in some places though, so just be careful."
And indeed, Hong winced a little at her embrace-but a concerned hug from his cousin was still much appreciated.
They headed to the dining room together, still in the company of Yun and Zhu, ruffling the latter dog's scruffy coat again and scratching her neck with the tips of his stone gloves as he lowered himself into his seat at the head of the great oakwood table.
"Ah," he sighed. "Time to sit down and take a mess off my feet."
"Have you had breakfast already sir?" his maidservant asked.
"No, Chu Hua. I trust Shan has prepared one for me?"
She nodded. "I'll be right back with it, sir."
Hong was presented with sweet-flavored rice porridge, tofu pudding with ginger and brown sugar syrup, and a steaming cup of jasmine tea that he sipped at as he listened to his sister tell him about the grand time she'd had last night-with one of his manservants coming along for her protection of course, while she wore both the bracelet of large malachite beads on each wrist and the gold ring with its raised seal of the city that marked her as one of a Dai Li agent's female relatives-watching a performance of the always hilarious Monkey Creates Commotion In Heaven by the Emerald Bird Theater Circle.
A member of the Dai Li could be secretive as he pleased about whatever he wanted. If Hong told any of his loyal retinue or family members that something was classified, or that an aspect of his life was a private matter, even his own mother, Li Wei, would no more think of trying to coax the truth out of him than she would attempt to swim across a river that was filled with shark-crocodiles.
Still, he decided, when Mingxia had finished her conversation about her evening at the theater, that now was as good a time as any to tell her about Rajata.
"Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself, and laughed a lot," he told her. "But something wonderful has happened to me recently too. I didn't want to say anything until I felt it was the real deal, but now it's official."
Mingxia looked at him expectantly.
"Did you get a promotion?" she ventured in mounting excitement. "Captain, maybe?!"
"Something even better than that. First of all, I know you must remember Gyunghui."
"Of course," she replied in soft reflection. "Your late wife was a wonderful woman, and we got on great together."
That had actually only been mostly true, Hong thought. Yes, his first wife had usually been on very good terms with, or at least tolerant of Mingxia after his barren cousin had chosen to share this life of luxury with them.
Walks in the garden together, arranging flowers, sharing tea, Gyunghui graciously reading to his illiterate cousin, going out shopping for new jewelry or clothing together, playing dominoes, worriedly tending to Hong as a duo when he'd been stricken with that horrible fever, and later on, while he recovered from being shot twice on duty-once in the calf, and once in the back of the thigh-by a Lower Ring punk gangster wielding a repeating crossbow. Mingxia eagerly, yet patiently, coaxing his often nervous natured wife into discovering the joy of climbing trees and rocky hills…
Both women had shared a lot of warm moments between them. Sometimes though, when Gyunghui had had too much to drink, an especially bad day, or it'd been that certain time of the lunar cycle for her, and Hong hadn't been around to intercede, she would proceed to take her anger out on the lower-ranking woman, both verbally and physically-even though she knew full well that it was not only cruel, but really pissed her husband off. It had almost tempted Hong several times to have his own wife brainwashed into being nicer, for the sake of making the drama just stop.
"Well," he replied, "I've not only fallen for, but am going steady now with a beautiful new woman I came across lately-one who just might end up occupying Gyunghui's place at this table," he told her, giving a small smile as he gestured at the long-vacant chair around the table's right corner from his seat, made from polished greenheart wood. "I can't go so far as to say that we're officially courting-but at this point, we might as well be."
"A new lover? How delightful!" Mingxia grinned, eyes widening, bracelets clicking as she placed her hands together. Not that she could really say anything else. "Can you tell me more about her?" she asked eagerly as she leaned forward slightly. "I'd like nothing better than to see you have a proper wife again."
He proudly told her all about Rajata, how he'd met her at Pao's Tea Shop, then talked at length about her dark skin, sweet personality, her ethnicity, the dates he'd already taken her on, what the rest of her family was like, the generous gifts and money he'd been bestowing on her.
"I guess I was right then to privately suspect you might have a new crush," Mingxia knowingly nodded, coral lips curling into a smirk. "While Oma knows it's not unusual for you to get together with Lanying, go on some outing or another with her in the Upper Ring…willingly spending part of the day shopping with your older sis at a high-end women's clothing store and then not handing the qipao you bought there over to me is rather unlike you," she said, giving him a coy, calculating sidelong glance. "Then when you triumphantly brought back a jaw-dropping two thousand, eight hundred and fifty jin from your most recent day out at the racetrack with Guozhi-I understand you well enough by now to recognize when you've gone and made a grand gesture to impress someone," she went on, raising a sleek eyebrow as she cocked her head.
He laughed approvingly. "You're a perceptive one, all right. At any rate, since I've already paid a visit to her house, I've decided it's only fair that I should have Rajata come visit mine, next time she and I see each other. I can trust that no one will have any-awkward feelings-about her presence?" he added smoothly, with a subtle hint of hardness in his tone as he drained the last of the jook, meeting her gaze over the bowl's rim. His cousin had been at the top of the female pecking order around here for nearly four years, after all, and might feel leery, even resentful, about the incoming downshift to number two.
"Perish the very thought," Mingxia replied, giving him a refined smile of appeasement worthy of any Joo Dee.
Chu Hua nodded as she took the empty dishes and placed them on a wooden tray to be washed in the kitchen. "You can be assured that not only will we all be gladdened to play host to Miss Rajata sir, but tell us any entertainments you may have in mind for her enjoyment, and it's as good as arranged."
Although any one of his servants would've been happy to do it for him, Hong resolved that he was going to sit down at the desk in his study and write the letter of invitation himself. After a much-needed sleep of course. Mingxia asked him if he wanted to talk about anything more, share what he could about his night. But Hong declined, accepting only a final warm hug and a few jokes from her before bending the heavy stone door shut from the inside.
He shed his rock gloves onto their designated shelf in one of the stone room's corners, and checked for any sign that either the stiff paper panels of the windows or their wooden frames might've been tampered with. He also made sure the pair of throwing knives that he kept in their respective slits in the sandstone wall just behind his bed's headboard were still in place, spread far enough apart to ensure that he could use his bending to have their granite hilts immediately clutched in each hand, before flinging the blades deep into the would-be assassin's chest in less time than it would take to say "badgermole."
Satisfied, he tossed his robes into the wicker laundry hamper and then changed into a pair of linen pants for his sleepwear, deciding he would sleep bare-chested for greater comfort in the summer heat as he removed his hair tie, letting his hair spread out of its queue to form a black waterfall as he sat down on his mattress and slid underneath the silken sheets.
As Hong drifted off, he couldn't help but idly, half-longingly think of what it might feel like to have his crush pressed up against him right now. The thought brought a thin smile to his lips as he shut his eyes.
As the sun made its slow arc through the sky outside, Hong slept on. He dreamed of Gyunghui, which even in his state of deep sleep, struck some part of his subconscious mind as odd.
For the first ten months or so after her death, Hong had dreamt of his late wife several times a week. But with the passage of time, she rarely featured in his dreams at all.
In this dream, he was in uniform, but alone, on a nighttime patrol through his Upper Ring district. The air was rich with the scent of spring flowers, and moonlight mantled everything in glittering silver. A gorgeous night indeed. He turned onto another side street, where a particular random hill, caught his attention, crowned by mist. Slowly, from this mist materialized the figure of Gyunghui, her hair loose and waving in the breeze along with the drooping sleeves of her silk hanbok.
She was a ghost, pale as alabaster, but neither the wakeful nor the currently active subconscious part of Hong was spooked by her appearance in the least. Awed and baffled, yes, but not frightened. Why would he be?
His late wife gave him a joyful smile of welcome, and Hong smiled back in warm disbelief. She beckoned him, and he eagerly responded by earth-skating off the street, through the grass, and up the hill to reach her side-but then she impishly darted away with that chiming giggle of hers, gliding down the other slope with the deceptive speed of a golden eagle descending through the air.
Naturally, he pursued, robes billowing behind, feeling the weight of his trailing queue as he skated down the hill, across a meadow, through a clump of large trees, and wove among several grand houses, heedless of any damage his bending was causing as his wife's ghost playfully led him along, laughingly staying several yards ahead.
At last, she let him catch up to her on a wooden footbridge, above a pond full of lotuses in bloom. Despite being a spirit, she still somehow felt solid in dream-Hong's arms, that gentle, familiar, moon-shaped face beaming up at him as they embraced one another in elation.
"It's been a long time, handsome," she told him simply, stroking his thick jaw.
"Too long," he agreed longingly, tilting the brim of his leather-covered bamboo liangmao upward before starting to kiss her-but as they did, much to his shocked surprise, ghost-Gyunghui suddenly began to lose her form, collapse inward and drift away like smoke.
But before he could cry out in dismay or try to snatch at her vanishing essence, Hong was startled again by the sensation of an even more tangible, warmer pair of arms sliding around his broad chest to hug him-this time from behind. He jerked, his late wife's departing, increasingly indistinct form forgotten as he twisted around in the newcomer's grip-and stared down to see the darker, smiling face of Rajata affectionately looking up into his.
At that, he snapped awake. The light coming through the stiff paper windows was weaker now, but he could tell from its brightness that it was still early evening. He was both puzzled and pleased by what his soul had just experienced in the dream world.
What'd that been all about? he thought, raising himself up onto his elbows.
One thing he was positive about was that dreams were both mysterious and important, a way in which the spirits themselves spoke to people. They could forecast prosperity, impending illness, spiritual favor, a coming tragedy, new romantic partners coming one's way-and they often meant the direct opposite of what you perceived in that hazy, sleep time limbo. He laid back down to ponder things for a while.
At length, he decided that the dream had been Gyunghui's way of giving his relationship with Rajata her blessing and good fortune. She was letting him know that she approved. A comforting thought.
Well, as long as he was up, he figured he might as well slip on a tunic for the sake of decorum (not that Mingxia at least, would really care about seeing her cousin half-dressed, he knew), then take a seat at the desk in his home study for a few minutes to write that invitation. And since tomorrow was scheduled as a day off for him anyway (although with the way things were going in this city, no thanks to the Avatar and the escalating plans for the great comet, part of Hong was rather surprised they were still being granted by the captains) there was no time like the present.
The sale had gone through! For the price of two hundred and eighty jin handed over to the property dealer, and with the official signatures of Ashwin and Madhuri, the Chettiar family had just become owners of a wonderful, spacious new home in District 66 of the Middle Ring, on Crescent Moon Avenue.
Quite a sum to pay, but it was worth it. Plus, they still had plenty of money left from Rajata's winnings, and because their new residence was much closer to the university, she'd overheard her parents already seriously discussing the possibility on their return home of sending Maalai there to get what would be the first academic degree ever in her family's history once she came of age-or closer to the present moment, maybe enrolling Tuhina in at least a few courses there before she eventually got married. Big dreams were falling into place all around them. Every one of them because of Hong.
It had been a heady whirlwind of a day already, with great things having been accomplished. Still, they all agreed there was no harm in getting on with the first stages of any big move before they prepared and had dinner, of planning out how to get their worldly possessions packed up into sacks and baskets, wooden trunks and boxes, before piling them into a cart.
Rajata was standing in the room she shared with Tuhina, contemplating the pair of deep leather anklets, covered in rows of jingling copper bells, that she donned for performances of Bharatanatyam on festival days over in Tenjiku Town, in the Middle Ring, with her fellow members of the Sona Dance Ensemble.
The bells could easily be crushed if enough weight was placed on them, she knew, so careful transport in a wicker basket it was. She couldn't resist lightly shaking the anklets a couple times, relishing the pure, tinkling sound that resulted before hanging them back on their upward-curving peg in her closet for the time being.
Her gaze switched over to the elegant silk qipao that drooped from its wooden hanger. It was still a constant marvel to her, that she now owned such a classy, pricey garment. She really should think about stopping by one of the specialty clothing stores in Tenjiku Town in the near future, she decided, and buy herself a nice linen, or even silk, sari to wear when she was out on the town with Hong…
"Um, hello there, big sis?" Tuhina's voice cut in.
Alert once more, Rajata turned away to face her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I said, I like the sound ghungroos make when they're shaken too-most of all when I'm wearing them," Tuhina smiled. She too, was a good Bharatanatyam dancer. "Looks like you zoned out on me though," she teased.
"Sorry about that. There's certainly a lot of major changes to process after today, though."
"No kidding," Tuhina grunted in agreement. "I never thought we'd have our standard of living raised to this extent-or in this way," she said, shaking her head in disbelief before giving her sister a knowing grin.
Rajata nodded. "Still-and I know it sounds totally crazy," she said as she let her gaze rove over the plastered stone walls and wooden floor, "even though I'm so glad we're getting out of this place, don't get me wrong…I'm going to miss it all the same, Tuhina."
"I get you," her younger sister agreed. "There's a lot of memories hanging around. I'm pretty sure you'll have a much easier time settling into our new Middle Ring home then Maalai, Viyan, and I will though. I mean, you lived in the Middle Ring with Kuranku in his house for over three years before you wisely ditched his insane ass and fled back to us."
"Yeah, but although I couldn't have known it at the time, you and I can both appreciate now that in hindsight, he was already beginning to gradually go cuckoo when we got married. To say nothing of proving to be lazier than a basking catgator. In other words, his home-Middle Ring though it might've been-was an utter shithole, that even I could never manage to keep fully clean," she ruefully snorted.
"Well, I'm just damn glad that you had the sense to bail when he really went off the deep end."
"Yeah, so am I! And that whenever he had a psychotic episode, at least he wasn't able to earthbend," she grimly shuddered. "Although the fact that he was always reluctant to have intercourse with me because he'd gotten it into his head that I was a witch who would 'drain him of all his male energy' during the act should've tipped me off lo-"
They were interrupted by the voice of their baby brother, resounding down the hall.
"Hey Rajata!" his shout came from the vicinity of the door. "You'd better come over here!"
She perked up in expectation, but also gave an annoyed sigh as she strode out of her room in the direction of the front door.
"Was it really necessary to shout like that indoors?" she grumbled as she approached Viyan. "Don't you remember what Grandpa used to say about that behavior? 'If you were an elephant, everyone would be deaf rig-'"
She broke off as she saw the figure of a messenger on the threshold, making small talk with her parents. All three of them turned to look at her, the messenger saying, "You must be Rajata?"
"None other."
"Well, I have a letter for you," he said, holding out a green envelope. "It's from Agent Yan."
"I knew it," Viyan grinned slyly, elbowing Maalai as Rajata excitedly took the letter from the messenger and opened it to find that it was actually an invitation. The characters of the majority language in Ba Sing Se were so different from the curving, playful, artistic, flat-topped squiggles and rounded bulges of Tenjikuan, composed of all no-nonsense straight lines and dashes and tortured-looking crooks.
But she'd become familiar with them, and understood their meanings just fine as she read the message off.
Agent Hong Yan cordially invites Rajata Puri to visit his residence in the Upper Ring, District 117, Shengdahu Avenue, for lunch and to spend the afternoon tomorrow.
(Being from a farming, lower-class background, I respect the fact that you have a job and need to help make money for your family, so that should allow you at least a few productive hours.)
(Remember to bring your access pass.)
(My estate guards have been informed that you're coming, but they're still naturally going to be very leery and curt towards any first-time visitor that thinks they can just walk through my moon gate-they're just doing their jobs though-so I'll be there to greet you myself.)
She gave a thrilled smile, then hesitantly glanced at her parents.
Ashwin nodded to reassure her. "Don't worry, I think we can manage the first part of the big move next evening just fine without you."
"And we'll handle your things with all the care they deserve," Viyan grinned.
"In that case," Rajata said as she returned her gaze to the young messenger, "you can tell him that I gladly accept his invitation-but let me grab a sheet of paper first to put it in writing!"
Both the Xisai terrier and the pug are native Chinese dog breeds.
As anyone with even passing knowledge of Chinese dramas and epics is aware, the play Mingxia watched while out on the town is of course, one of the Monkey King's many escapades featured in Journey To The West.
Shengdahu means "grand tiger" in Mandarin.
Kuranku means "monkey" in Tamil.