Heart of Iron - Ekaterina Sedia [112]
“We’ll take Kuan Yu and Liu Zhi with us,” Lee Bo said, as if that negated my point completely.
We came to the gates, that stood undamaged in the otherwise charred wall, but the gates were unlocked. Despite the destruction, I stared all around me, suddenly hungry for novel sights. The streets were wide and deserted, and I marveled at the beauty of the remaining houses—even though only a few still stood intact among the wreckage, I found their appearance as attractive as it was foreign: the houses, only one or two stories tall, boasted an abundance of wide windows and roofs with steeply arching eaves. They were painted green and gold and red, and plum trees, bare now, grew between the houses in small copses. Their bamboo and wood paneling, lacquered and brightly painted, gave the street a cheerful and peaceful air, belied by the burned out ruins all around us.
I let Lee Bo and the others lead the way, and trailed behind, keeping an eye out for troops. There were very few people in the streets, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. However, there was no shortage of dead bodies—I tried to look away when yet another corpse, stiff and straight and white with frost captured my gaze. I stared instead at the roofs and the windows, trying to guess who was behind an occasional shadow that flitted behind the white screens guarding most of the windows.
After a few streets like that, we entered a part of the city where buildings were taller and streets were wider, giving way to several squares with large, imposing buildings. One of them, particularly sprawling, had a statue of a goddess in front of it.
“This is the examination hall,” Lee Bo told me as we passed it. “Local students take their examinations here, and they get assigned to the official posts depending on how well they do.”
“Did you do well?”
He grinned. “Not really. This is why I’m running a factory in Siberia. But Chiang Tse did very well.”
The sound of his name pricked my heart like a small, sharp pin. “Oh? Was he the governor you wanted me to meet?”
Lee Bo only smiled.
“You have to tell me!” Suddenly, it seemed very important for me to know. “Where is he? Will I see him?”
Lee Bo laughed then. “I don’t know. I haven’t been home since October. We exchange an occasional letter, but last I heard, he was on duty in Gansu, his province.”
We arrived at the bottom of the bridge that led to a set of very tall gates. The gates stood between us and the rest of the street, flanked by two white stone dragons; they were probably guarding something important.
I smiled, imagining humble and soft-spoken Chiang Tse as an imposing official figure. “I am sure he’s governing well,” I said out loud. And added, without thinking much, “Do you usually have several wives?”
Lee Bo waited with me at the foot of the bridge until Kuan Yu and Liu Zhi caught up to us. “Under the Qing, yes. Taipings? Just one. Chiang Tse, however, doesn’t have any.”
I blushed without meaning to. “I was just curious, in general.”
“Of course,” Lee Bo said, thankfully not laughing. “In general. Customs of foreign lands are so confusing.” There was a hint of reproach in his voice.
“I thought it was the Chinese who wanted the foreigners to stay away. How do you expect us to know your customs?”
“I don’t.” Lee Bo’s eyes met mine, and I was taken aback by anger I saw in them. “But look around you—this is what happens when you let foreign ideas into a country.”
“I thought you supported the Taiping Tianguo.”
“I do, but that is beside the point. Remember the Qing are foreigners, and the Hakka are among the most ancient people of China, with its original language and customs.”
“I see,” I said, very softly. “But I hoped that being at the foreign university had some benefits for you.”
He looked at me as if he just saw me for the first time. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. But it hurts, to see it like this. And we keep arguing .