So Linua ended up being sent to speak to Great-Grandfather Yi anyway.
She got changed, seething with a queasy mixture of frustrated anger, nervousness and confusion. The question she had asked Tai Wu hadn’t even been that bad, not compared to some of the things she had said to Grandmother. Why did everything she did and said, everything she wanted, seem so wrong to all the adults in her life? Why did everything have to be so unfair?
There was a Castle servant waiting for her outside the changing rooms who led her up the sweeping staircase in the main hall to the first floor of the Castle, and around the gallery to antechamber. Within the antechamber were two secretaries’ desks, which flanked a large set of double doors leading to Grandfather’s office. There was a single secretary, a sleekly groomed woman in her fifties, dressed in an executive suit with a narrow pencil skirt and high heels. She gave Linua a look down her nose that suggested she was not impressed by what she considered to be a needless interruption to her day, merely gesturing to Linua to sit at a bench along the side of one wall. Linua obediently sat. The sick, nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach grew heavier.
The secretary picked up a folder and went to a bookshelf containing a number of similar folders. She didn’t put the folder away, but merely leafed through it, her expression thoughtful. When another servant came in to deliver a message she immediately went back to her desk, put the folder on it and dealt with the message. She waited until the servant had left, and then picked up the folder again, and returned to the bookshelf. But instead of filing the folder, she merely paged through it.
This seemed odd behaviour.
The secretary’s head was slightly inclined, as if she was listening to something. Linua looked up and saw an air vent set into the wall above the bookshelf, between the antechamber and Great-Grandfather Yi’s office.
Could the secretary hear what Great-Grandfather Yi talking inside his office? The more Linua covertly watched the secretary, the more she was convinced this was the case.
She looked up at the wall beside her, on the other side of the double doors. This held a glass cabinet display case full of an intricately patterned china tea service. Above it, was a similar vent.
Cautiously, Linua eased up until she was standing on top of the bench, as close to the vent as she could get.
There were voices! They were muffled and faint, but she could make out some of the words. She thought she heard the name Wai Bu followed by no longer suitable.
With a start, Linua realised that the secretary was glaring at her from the opposite side of the doors. Linua glared back defiantly. The secretary waved her hand up and down, a gesture telling Linua to sit down. Linua gazed at her blankly, and then looked at the air vent above the secretary’s head. The secretary’s mouth thinned in displeasure, but she didn’t reinforce her command. Linua went back to listening.
One of the voices—Linua thought it was Great-Grandfather Yi—was saying something about thanking Tai Wu for his counsel, in a tone which did not sound remotely grateful at all.
A bell rung from within, and the secretary glared at Linua one more time, straightened her already immaculate jacket, and went into the room. By the time she came out, Linua was sitting on the bench, her mouth dry.
“You may go in,” the secretary said, and held the door open for Linua.
Inside was room with a series of tall, narrow windows along the far wall, allowing a panoramic view of Herkow and the bay beyond it. On the right was a large oak desk flanked by bookshelves holding leather-bound books and scrolls. The wall opposite the desk held only a painting, full of delicate brushstrokes, showing a Shang temple populated by tiny figures toiling away in the fields, or worshipping statues.
In the centre of the room were two semi-circular benches, set low to the ground and facing each other. They were covered with silk embroidered patterns of cranes and lotus leaves. In the centre of the bench arrangement was a low table containing a bone china tea service. Wisps of steam emanated from a teapot.
Great-Grandfather Yi sat cross-legged on one of the benches, wearing traditional Shang clothing. Venerable Uncle Tai Wu stood by the window with his hands behind his back. When Linua straightened from her bow, Great-Grandfather Yi gestured to the other bench.
Linua went and sat down on it, in the same cross-legged pose as Great-Grandfather Yi.
“Tai Geng’s Daughter,” Great-Grandfather Yi said, as his assistant poured Linua a cup of tea and handed it to her. “How are your studies progressing?”
For one very confused moment she thought he meant her astronomy studies, but then she realised that he could only mean wushu.
“I’m trying very hard,” Linua said, circumspectly, and waited for Great-Grandfather Yi to tell her off for talking back to Wai Bing.
“Do you know what separates a scion of a Shang House from the waigoren?”
Waigoren meant anyone who wasn’t Shang. Linua had always been told that this was not a polite word to use. Maybe it was different if you were the head of a clan and over ninety years old. She could think of several things that were different between those who were Shang and those who were not, but she wasn’t sure which particularly waigoren thing Great-Grandfather Yi meant.
“No, Great-Grandfather.”
“It is faith,” Great-Grandfather Yi said. “Faith and humility.”
This was clearly the start of a lecture. Linua had sat through enough of Grandmother’s lectures to recognise one, and knew she wouldn’t need to say anything for some time. She braced herself.
“A student of the Shang knows that the forces which move the universe do not act at random, nor in a contrary manner. Wisdom is like water. It coalesces at the peak, and flows downhill like a river. The wise elder who is at the peak might taste the water, and learn the secrets of the universe condensed into a single drop. The student at the base of the hill, where the river of wisdom flows thick and fast, might drink their fill and yet comprehend less than one tenth of that which was contained within a small drop.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Linua didn’t think that was how water worked. Great-Grandfather Yi paused, as if gathering his thoughts.
“The student at the base of the hill might look upon the river of wisdom and feel that comprehension is within their grasp. They start climbing towards the peak, seeing it in the distance, and believing that they can imagine what it is like to stand upon such a pinnacle. Yet each twist of the river takes them to a new place, a hidden place which they did not see when they set out upon their journey. The river turns back upon itself, it plunges through a hidden gorge here or a secret valley there.”
Great-Grandfather Yi paused again, this time to take a slow, shaky sip of his own tea.
“Those who have passed through such places gather wisdom which is hidden from the student’s gaze. The student is not merely ignorant of this wisdom—they are not aware that it even exists. Older scholars who went before them have taken a hidden path which lies outside their own view. All the student sees is the peak above them. But that does not mean there is only the peak.”
Great-Grandfather Yi’s eyes were very dark—so dark, you could not distinguish between pupil and iris. It made his eyes look like little black buttons in his face.
“This is why,” he said gently, “a child does not question their elders. A child does not talk back. Instead, a child humbles themselves because they have faith that their elders have seen and experienced a path which they, in their ignorance, cannot even imagine.”
He seemed to be waiting for a response.
“Yes, sir.”
The black button eyes regarded her tranquilly, and for a moment she thought she might be sick. This was worse than any lecture from Grandmother.
“The lesson is learned,” Great-Grandfather Yi said. “Now, drink your tea, Tai Geng’s Daughter.”
Linua took a tiny, cautious sip of her tea and, with a supremely heroic effort, didn’t make a face. It had a strong smoky scent, but it seemed to have no flavour until after she’d swallowed it, at which point her mouth suddenly tasted like it was full of bitter flower petals.
“I insisted that you be made aware of your heritage and that you be trained in our ways,” Great-Grandfather Yi explained. “Perhaps, because of this, you thought that you would be guaranteed a place amongst us.”
What?
“However, to earn your place within the House of Yi, you must prove yourself. You must be steadfast, loyal and strong. You must be diligent. You must be worthy of our name. Do you understand this, Tai Geng’s Daughter?”
Was Great-Grandfather Yi labouring under the astonishing misapprehension that Linua wanted to join the Yi family fully when she grew up?
He was waiting for a response.
“Yes, sir.”
“Wai Bing Sheyboh tells me you have always worked hard.”
Linua nearly fell backwards off her bench in shock. Great-Grandfather Yi smiled at her expression.
“Ah, that surprises you? Recall what I said about the path ahead, which you do not know you cannot see. But where was I? Ah yes. If you continue to work hard, Tai Geng’s Daughter, you will be rewarded.”
By joining the House of Yi? The occasional fantasy of ascending aside, Linua couldn’t imagine anything she wanted less. She concentrated hard on keeping her face blank.
“There is one other thing I must mention,” Great-Grandfather Yi said. “You will no doubt be tempted by those of lesser blood.”
At this, Linua didn’t have to fake a blank face. What did he mean?”
“You must remember that such boys are not your equal. Indeed, to associate them could be considered a form of cruelty, for you dazzle a prize before them which they can never attain. For their benefit, it is better to consider your position, and look to your peers for partnership.”
Wait … he was talking about Eret? Linua felt herself slowly turn a bright, glowing red. Why did so many adults want to keep talking about her and Eret? Why couldn’t they just … leave things alone?
“You are young for this conversation,” Great-Grandfather Yi said, observing her cherry-red cheeks with a tolerant eye. “But it is better to be forewarned of the pitfalls that await. I will not, at this stage, forbid any contact between you and this young man.”
Maybe he could tell Grandmother he had decided that. Wait, no, that would be a terrible idea. Linua was quite certain that Grandmother would immediately want to do the opposite of what Great-Grandfather Yi demanded.
“However, if you wish to be kind and considerate, you will explain to him that he has no future with you.”
That only applied if Linua was going to join the House of Yi as a full member, she thought furiously. She couldn’t see herself doing that.
Great-Grandfather Yi waited in case she had anything to say, which she didn’t, even supposing she could have made her voice work at this point.
“And now we must decide what to do with you,” he mused.
What?
He pulled thoughtfully at the thin wisp of silky white beard on his chin.
“Tai Wu, what say you?”
Uncle Tai Wu came away from the window, and gave a low, respectful bow.
“This son is honoured that his most estimable father would seek from his meagre store of wisdom on subjects outside the scope of his knowledge and experience.”
Was that … sarcasm Linua detected in the humble tone of Tai Wu’s voice?
“Yes, yes, yes,” said Great-Grandfather Yi, a little impatiently. “But what is your opinion?”
“A course of meditation perhaps, to ease the heart, soothe discordance and speed the healing of bodily ills.”
“Then it shall be.” Great-Grandfather Yi clapped his hands decisively for his secretary.
And so Linua found herself sentenced to an hour each morning of one of her favourite activities at Castle Yi—not that there were a lot to choose from—with calm and kind Auntie Hui Ying. If there was a lesson to be learned from this, it utterly escaped her.
Anith: Guys, I’m really sorry. I did something kind of stupid.
Pickle: isn’t that normally eret’s line ?
Solly: Yeah but he doesn’t say sorry
Eret: Hey! I have nothing to be sorry for!
Anith: Shut up you lot and listen! I called Horn to apologise for the things Solly said to him on that call.
Eret: You did what?
Solly: Wait why? What was wrong with my call?
Eret: Shut it, Solly. You were rude to him…
Linua: And if ERET thinks that, then it means you really were.
Eret: …and you didn’t even get any information!
Anith: GUYS WILL YOU LISTEN?
Linua: Sorry
Anith: Okay. So I called and apologised and explained a bit about the museum project, it’s okay I didn’t mention you by name Linua. Anyway, he was really nice and sympathetic, and asked a few questions, and so I ended up telling him a bit about what had happened.
Eret: I can’t believe … wow …
Anith: Look, just wait until you hear what I have to say, okay? I just told him that we noticed this artefact was missing and we looked into it, and we couldn’t find Leofryn, but we’d gone to see Bead, and then there was a break in, but that it’s with the police now and we aren’t investigating any more.
Pickle: so basically you told him nearly everything .
Anith: And we chatted a bit and during our conversation he said he hadn’t known Kala that well. He joined the dig because Leofryn was a friend of his. He said Leofryn was a nice guy, just going through a lot because of his Dad. But then, okay, so get this guys, he hardly wanted to talk about Bead at all. It was like he couldn’t think of anything good to say about him. In the end all he could say that Bead was a smooth operator. He called him plausible. And this was from a guy who can hardly criticise a fly!
Linua mulled this over. It was true that Bead had had a sort of forthright, easy-going charm. He’d been oddly likeable.
Eret: That’s the opposite of what Bead said to us. Bead said [reminder].
Linua: Do you think Bead lied to us?
Eret: Yeah I do. The more we hear about Bead the less I like him.
Linua: You didn’t like him to start with.
Eret: But anyway, Anith, you did really well actually. You got loads more information than Solly. Next time we need to question someone we’ll get you to do it.
Anith: THERE ISN’T GOING TO BE A NEXT TIME!
Pickle: so is this a really bad time to mention that i think kala was murdered by a serial killer ?