China by Edward Rutherfurd (historical books to read TXT) 📕

even-tempered, thinking of others. But there was something else, a tension in him, that he hid.

He should have been married years ago. They’d had offers. But like his father before him, he’d been strangely obstinate about the whole business. She had an idea why.

“How’s my little sister?” he wanted to know at once. “Can I see her?”

“Not now,” Mei-Ling said. “She’s asleep.”

“Did everything go all right?”

“No problems at all,” Mother cut in. “Sit down and eat.”

After the two men had eaten, Elder Son went to fetch his father’s best opium pipe and prepared to smoke it.

The Binder stared at it. “That’s a fine pipe,” she said.

“My late husband’s. Cost a lot of money,” said Mother.

“Most of the opium pipes in the town were confiscated and destroyed back in the time of Commissioner Lin,” the Binder remarked. “You were lucky.”

“We hid it. He had another one, too,” Mother added with satisfaction. “But Lin’s men never came here.”

The Binder looked pensive. She’s probably thinking she should have charged us more money, Mei-Ling thought.

“You know,” said the Binder after a pause, “if you’re going to secure a fine husband for Bright Moon—and I think you can—you need to make sure that she’s expert at embroidery. Before she marries, besides making her trousseau, she’ll be expected to make presents of embroidered shoes and other things for every one of the bridegroom’s family. The satin and silk will cost money, of course, but most important of all will be the quality of her embroidery. She’ll be judged by her future family entirely on that. If she wants to be respected, her needlework will need to be highest quality. Otherwise, she’ll have a bad time.”

“Ah,” said Mother a little uncertainly.

“There’s a woman in the town, a cousin of mine, who could teach her what she needs to know.”

“I’ll remember that,” said Mother.

—

The next day, when they unbound Bright Moon’s feet, they discovered the four small toes of each foot were already neatly broken. “That’s a very good start,” said the Binder. She started to wash the little girl’s feet.

“Everyone needs to wash their feet to keep them clean and smelling nice,” she said, “but you have to be especially careful with bound feet because of all the crevices. The big crevice will be between the folded heel and the ball of the foot. Sweat and dirt can start infections in there, which can smell bad.” She smiled at the little girl. “Your lily feet will be your greatest asset in life, so you must take care of them and always keep them clean.”

When she’d dried and powdered Bright Moon’s feet, she began to bind them again, a little more tightly this time. And Bright Moon began to cry out and complain.

“There there, my dear, I know it hurts,” the Binder said to her kindly. “But just think how proud your father will be when he comes home and finds you’ve become such a fine young lady.”

“When is he coming back?” asked the girl miserably.

“Not until you’ve got some lily feet to show him,” said Mother firmly.

—

There was one question Mei-Ling wanted to ask. She could have asked her own sister-in-law years ago. But strangely, when poor Willow was alive, they never discussed such things. At first as the poor peasant girl in the family, she hadn’t dared raise the subject with the elegant wife of the senior son. And later, with Willow trying to produce a boy and being sickly, it hadn’t seemed appropriate.

Once she’d asked her husband, but he’d only grinned and told her: “I’m sure I don’t know, but I’m glad your feet aren’t bound. I love you exactly the way you are.”

So that afternoon, when they happened to be alone, she asked the Binder: “Why is it that men like women with bound feet so much?”

“Why do you think?”

“Well, it shows that the family has money. The woman doesn’t have to work in the fields like a peasant.”

“That’s true. It doesn’t actually prevent your working in the fields, by the way. But it makes it harder, and you can’t walk very far.”

“And men think that tiny bound feet are more beautiful than natural feet?”

“Some men are fascinated by the naked lily foot,” said the Binder. “They like to kiss it and caress it. But mostly women keep their feet bound when they sleep with their husbands, and they wear tiny scented silk and satin slippers. Men find the slippers arousing.” She looked thoughtful. “I suppose they like seeing the slippered feet waving about in the air, and that sort of thing. Like little boots, you know.”

—

The moon was nearly full that night. The house was silent. Her little girl had fallen asleep, but Mei-Ling lay awake.

After a time, she got up and went out into the courtyard. The moonlight was so bright that it made her blink. Most of the yard was gleaming, but part was in shadow. She sat on a bench at the shadow’s edge. In front of her feet, in the moonlight, she could see a little pile of crinkled autumn leaves.

She’d been sitting there a minute or two when she became aware of a shape in the dark corner of the courtyard wall off to her right. She peered at it.

“You couldn’t sleep, either,” said the shape.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said as her son came out of the corner and sat beside her.

“I’d come out here when our little one was crying,” he said. “Couldn’t bear it.”

“She fell asleep an hour ago,” Mei-Ling said.

“I know. I just stayed here, watching the moon.” They were both silent for a while. “I feel so bad.”

“Why?”

“The little girl having to suffer like this so she can have tiny feet and get a rich man and help us, when we should be helping ourselves. And what am I doing? I ask myself.”

“You’re doing your best. You’re a good worker. You keep the place going.”

“You know, there’s a piece of land we could buy on the other side of the village.