Read The Mystery of the Song Dynasty Painting Page 3


  ‘The years rolled by and suddenly Lao Lao realized that Niang was twenty-five. Most girls are married by the time they are fifteen and although Niang was still beautiful, people had stopped asking to marry her. Then one day, Lao Lao heard rumours that Baba’s wife (my birth mother) had suddenly passed away. Besides having no wife, Baba had the added advantage of not having even a single concubine. This was highly un-usual for a man in his position but would obviously make life easier for the new woman in Baba’s life, whoever she may be. Although Baba was not a Royal Prince, he came from a good family and was a Han Lin scholar. The very next day, Lao Lao summoned the best match-maker in the capital city to arrange the match.

  ‘According to my Nai Ma, they had a lavish wedding with more than five hundred guests. From the beginning of the marriage, Niang had very little energy and spent most of her time in bed. At first, everyone thought she was pregnant. Months and years went by, but no baby appeared. Gradually, it was accepted that Niang suffers from some sort of mysterious illness that nobody talks about.

  ‘Niang and I were both born in the Year of the Goat, two cycles or twenty-four years apart, but she seldom acknowledges my presence when we are in the same room. I’m simply not important to her. Unlike her, I’m not beautiful. Unlike Gege, I’m not a boy. Whenever we are alone, she often says and does cruel things to me. At best, she treats me like part of the furniture. It’s been like this for nearly as long as I can remember.’

  DR ALLEN: ‘So who looked after you if your Niang was always ill?’

  CC/MEI LAN: ‘I was looked after by Nai Ma, who shares my room and has been with me for as long as I can remember. Baba once told me that Nai Ma had been hired by my own Mama, before she died. Nai Ma is a peasant woman from the countryside. She has large feet, buck teeth and a pock-marked face, but she works hard. Niang says she is ugly, but Nai Ma and I love each another. Perhaps it’s because I’m not beautiful either – I have a foot that’s all twisted and I can’t move very gracefully.

  ‘Although Nai Ma can hardly read, she was the one who persuaded Baba to include me when Baba hired Teacher Lai to be Gege’s private tutor. It was because of Nai Ma that I learnt to read and write from an early age.

  ‘When I was five years old, Teacher Lai gave Gege and me a separate notebook each, together with a little brush. He told us to make drawings of our daily life and write a verse or story to describe them. Since Gege prefers to draw, while I like to write, his book is full of images whereas mine is full of words.’

  DR ALLEN: ‘So you like to write… but you also like looking at paintings, don’t you, Mei Lan? Tell me about the painting of Along the River at Qing Ming. Why is that painting so special?’

  CC/MEI LAN (becoming agitated): ‘No, no! Don’t ask me about the painting. It’s our secret. Only Ah Zhao knows about the painting… and Gege… Gege, please don’t say anything. You promised not to tell anyone! They’ll stop us. I need to go… I need to run, but I can’t… The market is so crowded I can’t get away. Where’s David? I need to get back to Grandma Wu.’

  DR ALLEN: ‘Calm down, CC. We won’t remember anything you don’t want to. Just relax and let your mind go blank again. I want you to stop remembering for a while…’

  The voices on the recorder stopped, but the machine kept whirring while Richard Allen sat lost in thought. Finally, he fed some paper into the typewriter on his desk and began to type.

  Case History of CC by Dr Richard Allen, MD

  CC (Chinese name: Ye Xian ) is a twelve-year-old Chinese girl who suffered severe head injury after a fall from a height of thirty feet. After regaining consciousness, she developed symptoms of headaches, insomnia and anxiety as well as feelings of déjà vu and amnesia. She had difficulty recalling her name, family history and recent events, but identified strongly with a famous painting of the Northern Song Dynasty titled Along the River at Qing Ming. In an attempt to relieve CC’s neurological symptoms, I began to administer hypnotherapy treatments. During her first hour under hypnosis, CC claimed to be a young girl named Zhang Mei Lan, living during the Song Dynasty.

  I recorded and transcribed CC’s words under hypnosis, and will continue to do so. At the conclusion of her treatments, I will allow CC to hear Zhang Mei Lan’s story in the hope that it will give her insight into her condition, rid her of her headaches and enable her to make a total and complete recovery.

  5

  A Real Awakening

  After this first hypnotherapy session, CC slept like a baby right through the night. Even better, the next day she was free from headaches for the first time since awakening from her coma.

  Grandma Wu began to hope that all might be well. ‘Perhaps now she might start to recover and be her old self again,’ she said to Dr Allen.

  ‘It’s certainly a good beginning,’ Dr Allen said. ‘But I think you should listen to this, Madame Wu.’ And he played her the recording of CC talking as Mei Lan.

  Grandma Wu sat and listened in silence. ‘I don’t understand. Has the fall damaged her brain in some way? Does she really think she is this girl Mei Lan? How does she know so much about the customs of the time?’

  Dr Allen shrugged his shoulders. ‘We understand so little about the workings of the mind. CC may have damaged a part of her brain called the temporal lobe during her fall. She could also be imagining all this, remembering things she has read or heard in the past.’

  Grandma Wu thought for a while. ‘Of course, it’s also possible that CC is genuinely recalling events from a previous life. The fall might somehow have caused her to experience a real awakening and remember a past life in a way that most people cannot.’

  Dr Allen smiled. ‘You know that reincarnation is not believed by most westerners.’

  Grandma Wu nodded. ‘Just because people don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it isn’t true.’

  Dr Allen glanced at his notes. ‘I think we need to find the cause of CC’s obsession with that Song Dynasty painting and what she – or at least Mei Lan – is running away from. I can’t help feeling that the answers to her illness lie within that particular painting. I would like, with your permission, Madame Wu, to keep CC here and continue treating her with hypnotherapy until she recovers completely.’

  Grandma Wu agreed. ‘The treatment you gave her yesterday certainly helped her sleep. Besides, CC is not fit enough to travel yet. I believe you have her best interests at heart, Dr Allen, so we are in your hands.’

  For the next two weeks, CC stayed at the hospital and continued her sessions with Dr Allen. Each day she grew a little stronger and happier. Although the dreams troubled her less and less, she continued to be drawn to the Qing Ming painting. She spent hours tracing the outlines of the figures in the picture – as if they could tell her what she needed to know.

  Besides administering hypnotherapy day after day, Dr Allen worked long into the night researching the medical literature, reading pertinent articles and writing his reports. Grandma Wu, meanwhile, stayed constantly at CC’s side. She was always ready to read to CC, accompany her on walks, and play a game of wei qi (go) or chess. Finally, the day came when Dr Allen invited CC and Grandma Wu into his office to hear his conclusions.

  He began by telling CC that what she was going to hear might surprise her, but that she wasn’t to worry in any way. She was fully recovered from her fall and, by listening to the recording, she would begin to understand many of the things that had been troubling her for the last few weeks.

  ‘OK if we begin, CC?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes – of course,’ she replied. ‘I can’t wait.’

  Dr Allen played the recording from their very first session together. CC listened intently while Grandma Wu watched her anxiously.

  When the machine stopped playing, Dr Allen switched it off and waited as CC struggled to make sense of what she had just heard.

  ‘But what does it all mean… who is Mei Lan? Did I tell you any more about her?’

  ‘Actually, this was just the very beginning, CC. It too
k a few sessions to come out, but Mei Lan’s story really began when her father brought home a young orphan boy to be a companion and servant to Mei Lan’s older brother. I have the whole story here in Mei Lan’s own words, and I think we should hear it from her. It will be easier for me to explain why you know so much about that painting when you hear the whole story.’

  Grandma Wu held up her hand. ‘If we’re going to be listening to several hours of recording, may I suggest that we make CC as comfortable and relaxed as possible while listening?’

  ‘Certainly, I will have my secretary bring in some tea. Meanwhile, please make yourself comfortable as well, Madame Wu. I suggest that CC lie on the red recliner – which is where she told me Mei Lan’s story – while you and I remain in our chairs.’

  CC lay down quietly on the recliner, deep in thought, while the tea was being prepared. At last she was going to hear the whole story about that mysterious painting. Had she seen it somewhere before? Why did it look so familiar? Would the pieces of puzzle finally fit together so she could stop worrying?

  When everything was ready, the small group made a circle round the wire recorder to hear Mei Lan’s story.

  6

  Barbarian Orphan Boy

  Our house has always been full of beautiful things. Besides being a high government magistrate, our father Baba is also a famous art connoisseur, with a collection of bronzes, jades, porcelains and paintings unequalled anywhere except in the Imperial Palace. It’s his love of art that led directly to Ah Li joining our household. Three years ago, when I was ten years old, Baba came across Ah Li in a jade shop on the main thoroughfare. He watched, mesmerized, as Ah Li worked on a pair of matching earrings he was carving out of a tiny piece of jade. When Baba learnt that Ah Li was an orphan, toiling without wages, he pitied him and took him home to work for our family and be a companion to my brother Gege.

  I can still remember the day Ah Li arrived. Baba was so excited that he sent for us as soon as he got home, to tell us about Ah Li’s amazing skill.

  ‘I’ve never seen such talent. This boy has had no training at all. Yet he shows such wonderful understanding as well as enormous technical ability. He’s the best jade carver I’ve ever encountered.’

  I remember looking at Ah Li and thinking that he didn’t look like anyone I had ever met. Later on, I found out why this was so. Ah Li is not Han Ren (of Han origin). His ancestors came from a foreign country far away to the west. Ah Li cannot read or write but is able to create anything he fancies out of wood, bamboo, clay, jade or stone. He can also make things grow in the garden. He and Gege spend hours cutting shrubs into the shapes of tigers, monkeys, dogs and birds.

  I try to help them sometimes, but Gege always shoos me away. Gege was born in the Year of the Ox, whereas Ah Li was born in the Year of the Rabbit. Although Gege is two years older, Ah Li is half a head taller and already has fine hair growing above his upper lip. He has tousled, dark brown hair, big round eyes and a prominent but crooked nose. Old Ah Wang , Baba’s number-one manservant, calls him Da Bi Zi (Big Nose).

  Ah Wang has worked for us since Baba himself was a baby. He’s always scolding Ah Li for laziness. Ah Li enjoys gardening but hates cooking, doing laundry or dusting and cleaning.

  Like Gege, Ah Wang was also born in the Year of the Ox, four sheng xiao cycles (forty-eight years) earlier. Like most Ox people, he is strong-willed and stubborn. Ah Wang is a foot shorter than Ah Li, with bow legs and a bald head fringed by wisps of white hair. Something’s wrong with his back because he’s unable to stand up straight, and he walks with his shoulders hunched and head bent forwards at all times. The boys don’t like him, and call him Hunchback.

  Ah Li tries to avoid Ah Wang as much as possible. He spends his time tending the flowers and shrubs in the courtyards, walking around with his hands in his pockets and whistling as if he’s lord of all under Heaven. Gege often saunters into the garden to ‘help’ Ah Li, instead of doing his homework and studying the Confucian classics.

  At times, Ah Wang reports Gege’s truancy to Baba. He says Ah Li is a bad influence and will make Gege fail the Jin Shi (Imperial Examination). Baba usually laughs and says that Gege understands how important the examinations are and will not dishonour the Zhang family by failing. He also says that someone who carves jade as well as Ah Li must be intelligent. However, to stop Ah Wang complaining to Niang, he forbids the boys from playing in the garden where Ah Wang can see them. So the two boys begin spending time in Ah Li’s garden shed, where he sleeps.

  While they are in there, instead of memorizing Confucian sayings and composing essays, Gege and Ah Li make amazing objects such as wooden flowers, bamboo cups, paper-cuts, clay figures and stone sculptures. They laugh and joke and have so much fun that I can’t resist going there myself.

  Under Ah Li’s direction, Gege and I have become willing helpers in transforming his shed into a playhouse. First we clean out the rubbish and sweep the earthen floor. Beneath the window, we erect a platform of long, wooden planks and cover it with bamboo matting to transform it into a sort of bed for sleeping, sitting or jumping. Against the wall, we build a large wooden box with a lid, for storage. Finally, we help him make a round table by placing a large slice of polished tree trunk on a flat piece of bevelled stone. Outside the hut, we frame the door with two rows of bamboo trunks of equal height and roundness. Facing the garden, we put two wooden benches with their backs to the bamboo. Throughout the month-long process, Ah Li directs us like a general, placing a piece of stone here, or removing a shrub there. He emphasizes over and over that space and voids are as important as flowers and trees in the creation of beauty and harmony.

  We spend many happy hours creating our playhouse in the garden, but one day we look up and see Ah Wang’s beady little eyes glaring at us through the window.

  ‘Looks like trouble ahead,’ says Gege. As usual, he’s right.

  7

  Painting Lessons

  Ah Wang tells Niang about us. He says that Gege is wasting time with Ah Li, and that I’m encouraging them. Niang scolds me and gives me her usual lecture – the one where she says: ‘Isn’t it enough that you’re rebellious, lazy, ugly and unfilial? Do you have to prevent Gege from studying as well?’ Then she gives me a slap (which I was expecting) and follows it with a painful, sly pinch (which I wasn’t). The worst bit is that she tells Baba, who gets really cross. As punishment, he orders Gege to spend more time practising his shu fa (calligraphy) so his handwriting will impress the Imperial Examiners.

  The lucky part of the whole business, though, is that Baba doesn’t tell us we have to stop spending time with Ah Li. So, the next afternoon, when Ah Li has finished his chores and Gege has recited his Confucian sayings, we meet up.

  ‘It’s just not fair,’ Gege says, kicking the stone support under the table. ‘I’m sick of practising my shu fa – it’s boring. I’d much rather paint pictures of objects I can see.’

  ‘It’s all Niang’s fault,’ I say. ‘She hates it if we have any fun at all.’

  ‘How does she know what you do?’ Ah Li asks. ‘She doesn’t leave her rooms often enough to find out, does she?’

  ‘I think she pays Ah Wang to tell her exactly what’s going on in the house. A few days ago I saw him speaking to her at her door, and he was jingling coins in his pocket.’

  Ah Li laughs. ‘I’m amazed she has to pay Ah Wang – I’m sure he’d gladly tell tales on me for nothing. Anyway, what’s so bad about learning shu fa? You’re lucky to get the chance. I’ve always wanted to learn how to read and write.’

  ‘And you’re lucky you don’t have to do it!’ Gege retorts. ‘But if you are so keen to learn, then I can teach you. I won’t be the best teacher, but I can show you the basics.’

  Ah Li looks delighted so I help Gege carry the four ‘scholars’ treasures’ (wen fang si bao ink-stick, ink-stone, brush and paper) to Ah Li’s shed, and place them on the big round table. We show Ah Li how to make fresh ink by grinding the ink-stick in water, against the
ink-stone.

  Gege moistens his brush with ink, and teaches Ah Li the correct way of holding the brush vertically between his third and fourth fingers. He begins with a few simple characters such as xin (heart), Tian (Heaven), ren (man) and li (strength). To our amazement, from his first stroke, Ah Li’s shu fa looks far better than Gege’s or mine, even though he has never done this before. Unlike my childish squiggles or Gege’s impatient scrawls, Ah Li’s da zi (big characters) are balanced, harmonious and imbued with emotion. For instance, the three dots and single curved line in Ah Li’s word xin (heart) appear to have emerged from his very own heart through the power and velocity of his brush.

  ‘How did you do that?’ Gege asks, impressed.

  ‘Do what?’ Ah Li replies.

  ‘Sure you haven’t practised calligraphy before?’

  ‘You must be joking!’

  Next morning, Gege shows Ah Li’s big characters to our tutor, Teacher Lai.

  ‘Amazing! Full of qi (energy)! Very powerful!’ says Teacher Lai. ‘They remind me of the shu fa of the Tang Dynasty master Liu Gong Quan who lived three hundred years ago. I’m curious to see this calligrapher’s cao shu (cursive script). Will you ask him to write three or four lines quickly, so I can compare his cursive script with his big characters?’

  ‘He doesn’t know how to write cursive script,’ Gege says. ‘He’s illiterate.’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ Teacher Lai exclaims, staring at the big characters and shaking his head.

  ‘Maybe he was the famous calligrapher Liu Gong Quan himself in his past life!’ Gege jokes.

  ‘I’ve always considered calligraphy to be a form of art and not a form of literature,’ Teacher Lai says. ‘This proves it!’

  ‘Therefore proving that learning Confucian classics by heart is a waste of time!’ Gege proclaims.