A Gathering of Heroes series: Anhu

Chapter 1 (Zhang)

Dong Ying, Anhu County

"The river moon rises in the sky, casting its forlorn gaze on the shore. A lone figure sits there, watching the vast emptiness. His face– a mask of sorrow for the one he loves–"

A fan smacked the table causing the speaker to stop abruptly. A girl wearing pearl-colored silk shook her head disapprovingly, "Ai ya, Huang-mei! You sound like a pining, weeping lover. This subject has been written multiple times."

Indignantly, the speaker in ocher silk retorted, "This piece is homage to Dong Chi's works! Surely you knew that, Fang-jie!"

"You need to develop your own style to reach his level of fame!" Fang Lihua retorted,brushing her comment off. "At this rate, you are a naive duckling following its mother."

I watched the girls' bickering. Hiding an amused smile, I whispered to my older companion, Ren Wenling, who was seated beside me. "It is always like this between those two."

"Well, that Huang Meilin is Huang-laoshi's favorite after all, even though they are not related by blood!" Ren-jie whispered back.

Huang Zhiyuan-laoshi was the owner of Meihua Chaguan, a well-known gathering place for literati and small groups to discuss topics, recite poetry, or exchange information. The Chaguan welcomed men and women of reputable backgrounds. A person must show his or her jade pendant before being allowed to enter.

Historically, the Chaguan was the site for the signing of the peace treaty with the marauding pirates, the Sea Serpent gang. The former governor, Geng Hai, had artfully negotiated terms for fair trade and safety of the populace of Dong Ying. Both sides, as a result, enjoyed twenty long years of peace and mutual benefits, which brought Dong Ying to its current state of prosperity. With such a prominent historical legacy, Huang-laoshi hoped that the ideas and fresh personalities brewed within Meihua Chaguan would lead to further greatness.

Still, I sipped my tea. What could we women do to better society? Most avenues of political advancement were closed to us. The inner court with its rules bound us to a code of silence, but such boundaries can be nudged little by little, one written word or embroidery at a time. I set my cup on the table and gazed at my companions thoughtfully. Each girl came from a different background. Ren-jie, the eldest of us, came from a background of judicial officials; her father currently served as a supervisor of records in the local court office. Fang Lihua, who was my younger sister's age, was the daughter of a local magistrate and granddaughter of Yu-xianzhang, the current governor of Dong Ying. Huang Meilin, the youngest, was a lover of poetry and literature and daughter of a lesser noble family in Dong Ying. Had any one of these girls been been given the chance, I felt her skill could be utilized to better society.

"Ladies, ladies!" called a booming voice. The two girls' bickering broke off as Huang-laoshi's presence filled the entrance of our private room. My companions and I stood up and greeted him. "A hearty discussion as always," he commented as his sharp eyes perused the sheets that were strewn across the table. Huang-mei blushed and said quietly, "I was inspired by the story of the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd."

"Every work is based on a story, whether it is a story of your own or a story you have heard. Still, this particular imagery evokes such a strong sense of loss..." Again, they were lost in their own little world.

"Pardon me, Zhang-jie." I turned to the entrance. My maidservant, Wei, bowed and said to me in a low voice, "The mistress is asking that you purchase some cakes for the celebration tonight."

I had nearly forgotten. Politely, I excused myself.

"Not at all. We are sorry that we could not spend more time with you," Ren-jie answered. The others nodded.