The next day, after seeing off all his guests, it was already past ten when Akikawa Yamaguchi came straight over to pick up Wu Aizhen.
When Wu Aizhen came downstairs, she saw Akikawa standing not far from the car, waiting for her. He was dressed in a black tracksuit with short sleeves. The fabric was thin and clung tightly to the physique of an athlete — dashing, upright, as though his body was packed with inexhaustible strength. He wore sunglasses, which threw off a pale glint in the sunshine. Wu Aizhen was still in the white tracksuit she had worn in Tibet. When he caught sight of her, he fixed his eyes on her for a moment, then walked to the car door.
Once in the car, Wu Aizhen could see close up how heavily muscled Akikawa’s body was. The contours bulged through his clothes. Before, he had always dressed in looser, more casual attire.
“Did you build those muscles through training? You look incredibly fit.”
“Yes. I trained in boxing, kendo, and judo — all since I was young. And I’m excellent at swimming, diving, sprinting, and shooting.”
“Wow! That’s impressive! You’d be an idol to girls!”
“No one has ever truly loved me! They only want me to love them.”
“When women love you, of course they hope you’ll love them back.”
Wu Aizhen thought of the countless debates about “love” she’d had with the Little Shramanera, and of her own disappointments and doubts about love. But with someone as cold as Akikawa, she would insist that love did exist in this world, and that the women who loved him were all getting hurt. The image of Mayumi surfaced in her mind.
“Fine, maybe, maybe those women did love me. Happy now?!” Akikawa sighed in resignation.
Akikawa’s mood today seemed somewhat low. On the road he often showed no interest in debating her, and mostly just listened and went along with whatever she said. Otherwise he simply drove in silence, not saying a word.
Akikawa’s eyebrows were not especially thick, but they were rugged and turned sharply upward at the ends. His forehead was high, wide, and expansive, yet between his brows the bone bulged outward somewhat. Combined with those deep-set eyes, it always reminded Wu Aizhen of a particular state she’d once encountered in Chan samadhi. She had once been sitting in meditation in an old room in an ancient temple when suddenly it felt as if she were poised above a bottomless abyss. The mottled, stained walls of the room began to ripple in waves of light. In that deep blue glow, the enormous head of a vicious dragon appeared on every side. Its face was like a relic just dug from an ancient tomb, covered in green moss and rust, and it glared at her fiercely with bowl-sized eyes. She had sat unmoved, without so much as a flicker of her mind, and after a few minutes the dragon and the deep pool silently withdrew…
Now, seeing Akikawa’s forehead, she thought again of that dragon’s forehead and its stare. Apart from being paler than the dragon’s head, his face was practically a miniature replica in almost every detail — especially the brow. She had a sudden comic impulse to reach out with both hands, push his forehead backward a little, then smooth it outward to both sides, so it would be leveled and opened up — that would be so much better.
“You know how to read faces?” He must have sensed the thoughts stirring in her mind again, Wu Aizhen realized. Akikawa sometimes could detect the movements of her consciousness.
“No.”
“Then what are your eyes doing poking and prying across my face? Even though I have no skill in Chan samadhi, the things I’ve trained in since childhood let me detect very subtle stirrings in silence — including other people’s thoughts and breathing — and react quickly. Just now you swept your eyes over me a few times, sat there lost in thought, and even secretly showed a pleased look. You were definitely thinking something wicked.”
“I wasn’t.” Wu Aizhen denied it.
“If you don’t want anyone to know, don’t do it.” Without another word, Akikawa grabbed the back of Wu Aizhen’s hand and bit her.
Wu Aizhen rubbed the “vicious” tooth marks on her hand and resigned herself to her misfortune. She told herself that from now on, she must never let wicked thoughts run loose, and even if she did, she must not let them show on her face. Around the demon-king type, one had to keep one’s guard up.
Because they were unfamiliar with the road, they lost time asking for directions along the way. It took over two hours to reach Luofu Mountain. There were not many visitors on the mountain. Wu Aizhen didn’t recognize most of the deities enshrined in the Daoist temple. She could only identify the Most High Lord Lao, the Eight Immortals, and the Doumu Star Goddess. She introduced each of them to Akikawa. Akikawa even gave respectful bows, quite unlike his behavior in the Bön temple in Tibet, where he had simply stood with folded arms. Wu Aizhen also introduced him to Ge Hong, a Daoist of China’s Eastern Jin dynasty, who wrote the Baopuzi, a book that passed down to later generations. Legend said he refined elixirs on Luofu Mountain and became an immortal. Beyond that, Wu Aizhen didn’t know anything more, so they simply wandered, taking in the scenery. That was when Akikawa spotted a sign that read “Guanyin Sacred Lots.” “Guanyin Bodhisattva tells fortunes in a Daoist temple, too?” he said.
“Ridiculous,” Wu Aizhen said, laughing.
“Look, isn’t this it right here?” He pulled her over to the door of the fortune-telling room. The room was a cave dwelling, the door left slightly ajar, and above it hung a very large sign bearing the words “Guanyin Sacred Lots.”
“Let’s go in and have a look. We’ve got nothing else to do, might as well have some fun.” Akikawa had grown intrigued. Wu Aizhen was tired and wanted to go in and rest her feet.
Inside, the cave dwelling was divided into two rooms. In the outer room sat a boy of about sixteen, with a desk, paper, and a writing brush. The inner room had a curtain across it, hiding whatever master might be within.
“Are you the one who tells fortunes?” Akikawa asked the boy.
“No, that’s my master. If you want your fortune told, write your name, age, and birth year, month, and day on this paper. Master will do it for you.”
“Your master is in there? Why doesn’t he come out and meet people?”
“Master is inside cultivating his mind. He says this is just a petty skill, only used to earn something to live on, just for fun. That’s why he doesn’t want to come out and see people. If I take your paper in, Master will write out what he’s seen and give it to you. It’s the same as if he spoke to you himself.” The boy explained this patiently.
Hearing the boy speak like this, Wu Aizhen found herself looking at this master — the one unwilling to show himself, sitting inside “cultivating his mind” — with new respect.
She and Akikawa both wrote down their birth data and watched the boy take the slips of paper into the inner room. A moment later, the boy came out holding two sheets. Written across them in bold, sweeping strokes were the fortune verses. Wu Aizhen picked up the one meant for Akikawa. It read:
Dazzling bright, golden radiant, towering spirit skyward
Cold and lonely, full of doubt, dark overbearing force hard to abandon
Tossed on a sea of suffering, no prospect of escape
Rare to find affinity, ride the wind and soar
In affairs, do not force things
In gain and loss, do not contend
The moment is inauspicious
Deep snow hard to melt
Wait till the garden fills with a hundred blossoms
At last the proud plum blooming alone in snow will be understood
Akikawa took the one meant for Wu Aizhen. It read:
Do not regret sitting upright on the purple-gold lotus
The wondrous existence of the human realm is hard to fully enjoy
Childhood games must have their time
The sea of suffering is boundless — let your vow-power set to work
Boundless merit serves as a great boat
The compassionate vessel ferries those with affinity
Old dreams of the dusty world
Emotion burdens the pure heart
For the moment, endure
When the water is full, the flower blooms
Boundless melancholy one day dissolves
Amid ten thousand blossoms, a smiling face appears
“What does it mean? Can your master explain it?” Akikawa said after reading both fortunes.
“My master never explains the lots. He fears revealing all of heaven’s secrets.”
“Little brother, may I write down two more people’s birth data for your master to read?”
“All right!”
Wu Aizhen wrote down the birth data of Keiko and Ren Qingfei. Soon the boy emerged with two more sheets. Wu Aizhen saw that Keiko’s read:
Body lodged in wealth and honor
Fate that of an abandoned child
Who knows when old kindness will be met again
Heart poured out in care through grave illness
One day finds true love
Casts aside all riches and glory
From then on simple tea and plain fare
This heart no longer clings to anything
The moment is greatly auspicious
All matters as one wishes
Once the storm on the sea of desire has passed
Naturally clear skies and bright sun
The sheet for Ren Qingfei read:
Idle clouds, wild crane
Whereabouts hard to fix
Beneath the Dharma King’s seat, forced to call it home?!
Loneliness hard to bear
Doubts flying in confusion
What day will wings spread to circle the horizon?!
Suddenly a spring thunderclap sounds
Clouds part, fog clears, great snows melt
From then on, watch wind, flower, snow, and moon
Listen to the Brahma sound of the ocean of nature
How many affairs of romance and heartbreak
All consigned to a smile within the notes of a bamboo flute!
The moment brings slight illness
All affairs go against you
Cultivate mind and nurture nature
Quietly wait for conditions to ripen.
Reading this, Wu Aizhen wondered — could Ren Qingfei be ill? “Who is this Ren Qingfei?” Akikawa asked.
“A friend of mine who cultivates the Way.”
“You seem to care about him quite a bit.”
“Yes, we were once very close, but later because of a small misunderstanding, we haven’t been in touch for a long time.”
“Oh!” Akikawa didn’t ask more, but his suspicious gaze still swept across her face.
“How much?” Wu Aizhen asked the boy.
“Whatever you like,” the boy said.
Wu Aizhen took two hundred yuan from her pocket and handed it to the boy. “Thank your master for me.”
The boy immediately turned and went back inside.
A moment later, he came back out carrying a cup of tea. “Master says this should be drunk by the uncle named Akikawa Yamaguchi.”
Wu Aizhen looked at the little cup, the kind used in the 1950s. On it were faint red words that seemed to be quotations from Chairman Mao, now chipped and incomplete. Inside, the cup was coated with black tea stains and held half a cup of clear water.
Akikawa shook his head at once and gave Wu Aizhen a baffled look. Judging from his expression, even if the boy knelt down before him, he would flatly refuse to drink that water.
“Could I drink it in his place?” Wu Aizhen said.
“I’ll ask Master,” the boy said. He carried the cup back inside. A moment later, he returned with it and said,
“Master says this water is to dispel this uncle’s misfortune. Your own causes and effects you bear yourself. If you drink it in his place, it will do no good. Master told me to sprinkle it at the doorway, and to say — may your journey be safe and auspicious!” The boy went out and sprinkled the water in front of the door.
“Could I meet your master?” Wu Aizhen said.
“My master never sees anyone who comes for fortune-telling. Still, I can ask him for you.” A moment later the boy came back out smiling, and a little awkwardly handed Wu Aizhen a slip of paper. On it was written: “What good would meeting me do?! If you have the time, better to get to know yourself.” Wu Aizhen smiled and said nothing more.
When she and Akikawa came out, Akikawa’s eyes still held that strange look. He stared at Wu Aizhen and said, “How can you be so careless? Someone casually brings out a cup of water and you’re ready to drink it. How do you know there isn’t poison in it? Think about it — you’d just handed over the money, and out comes the water. For all you know, they meant to knock me out so the master and disciple could rob you.”
“How could that be? Didn’t you see the fortune he wrote, and what the boy said about him at first, that he was only doing this to get by? He isn’t like those other fortune-tellers who claim they’re incredibly accurate to extort money. He doesn’t even explain the fortunes, for fear of confusing people’s minds and interfering with cause and effect. And with money, it’s whatever you give — like people just practicing giving. Fortune-tellers like that are very rare. Even though he has no choice, using this petty skill to earn his keep, he has remarkable restraint. I believe he’s a cultivator. That cup of water really was meant to dispel misfortune for you. Whether it would have worked, I don’t know, but his intention was certainly that. There’s absolutely no way he put poison or some drug in it.”
“Do you really believe in fortune-telling?”
“Buddhism teaches that the four elements are empty, but how many people can truly empty them? Since neither body nor mind can be emptied, they remain under the constraints of the five elements — water, wood, metal, fire, and earth. The five elements generate and overcome one another, causing many things to move and transform in patterned ways. The ancient Chinese classic, the Book of Changes and its eight trigrams, contain the tendencies and laws that govern the movement and transformation of all things in heaven and earth. If a person can truly penetrate and thoroughly grasp them, it is not unreasonable to use them to calculate unknown events in advance. But I still believe that fate is half in every person’s own hands. For instance, what era we are born into, what family we are born into, whether we are born male or female — these are things we cannot decide for ourselves. But in this world, what attitude we take toward the events we encounter, what philosophy of life and what values we choose, and what way of life we choose — in a lifetime, we still have countless opportunities to make these choices. And different people make different choices. In the West they say, ‘Character determines your fate.’ I think that refers to that half.”
“Since fate gives us room to choose, it is not fixed. The Dharma says that the mind can transform matter, the mind can turn circumstances, the mind can alter feng shui—the mind can change any condition unfavorable to us. But the prerequisite is that this ‘mind’ must be a mind full of wisdom, full of loving-kindness, optimistic, and possessed of strong samadhi power. Only such a mind has the strength to accomplish these transformations. And the blessings spoken of in Buddhism are also immensely powerful. As people often say, a blessed person dwells in a blessed place—it is not that the blessed place makes the blessed person. It means that where a person of great blessings lives, even if the feng shui is poor, it will turn favorable because of that person’s blessings. And how does one acquire the blessings that can transform everything? The Dharma teaches the Six Paramitas and Myriad Practices—Giving, Upholding Precepts, Patience, Vigor, Chan Samadhi, and Wisdom—all of which accumulate blessings. Human beings live in this world interconnected with all things; every kind of relationship exists between them, and amid these relationships, the ‘human mind’ plays the greatest role, not some mysterious force in the dark. If the human mind can shift, a person’s fate will shift with it. Even if it shifts only a little, a single thought turned toward goodness has an enormous impact on the entire Dharma Realm. Human beings originally possess the perfect mind of the Dharma Realm; the mind of the Dharma Realm is everywhere, pervading everything. Yet in the human realm, only human beings can consciously adjust and transform their minds, using their abundant intelligence to refine themselves and bring their inner world to perfect realization. Other animals and plants do not have this capacity. Therefore, every transformation of the human mind greatly influences the Dharma Realm, especially upon beings in higher-dimensional spaces. But that is beyond our present discussion.”
Wu Aizhen noticed that Akikawa Yamaguchi was still looking at her with a strange expression and said, “Maybe I’ve gone a bit far. What I meant is that fortune-telling has some validity, but fate is not entirely unalterable. That said, there aren’t many true masters of divination these days—more charlatans and swindlers—so sometimes we can just take it as a bit of fun.”
“I feel that no matter what you talk about, it always circles back to Buddhist teachings. It’s exhausting to listen to. Could you be concise and just answer my question instead of stuffing all that doctrine down my throat?”
“Thank you for the correction. I’ll definitely change that,” Wu Aizhen replied crisply. Then she added with surprise, “But honestly, sometimes your Chinese is even better than mine, except for a slight accent.”
“Thanks for the compliment. Actually, I spend several months a year in Macau or Hong Kong, but the most important influence was the guidance and influence of that Shanghai nun when I was a child.” He said to Wu Aizhen, who seemed to have regained her spirits, “It’s already past one. Let’s eat—aren’t you hungry?”
They found a clean, bright restaurant and had a casual meal.
“Head back, or wander around a bit more?” Wu Aizhen asked.
“On the way to Luofu Mountain I saw a hot spring resort. How about we go soak in the hot springs? I didn’t sleep well last night; I’d like to relax after a bath.”
They drove back along the same road and, sure enough, halfway there they came upon a sign for a hot spring resort. Wu Aizhen was secretly amazed at his powers of observation. She had come this way once before and had never noticed such a large resort sign. He was Japanese, and this was his first visit, yet while chatting with her he had still managed to register a roadside advertising sign—really something. If she went to Japan, she probably wouldn’t even be able to tell east from west. Because she was weak in that area herself, she tended to see anyone with such a skill as extraordinarily capable. Right now she was gazing at Akikawa Yamaguchi with eyes full of admiration and respect.
Akikawa Yamaguchi didn’t notice her gaze; he was focused on following the arrow signs to find the way. Otherwise, seeing that peculiar look of admiration in her eyes might have made him drop his sunglasses.
The resort was easy to find; a couple of turns and there it was—Lotus Hot Spring Resort. Wu Aizhen quite liked the name.
The resort had just been renovated and all the hot springs had been moved indoors—put simply, it was now about the same as an ordinary bathhouse, except the water was pumped straight up from underground. The attendant took forever to stumble through an explanation, which left Wu Aizhen a little disappointed. The name had conjured up a romantic image in her mind: against a blue sky and white clouds, a pool in full bloom with white lotus, their subtle fragrance drifting on the breeze, and at one end a smaller hot-spring pool, just big enough for a person to sit in, its surface covered with floating lotus petals. Steam rose from the depths, gently carrying the delicate lotus scent upward and into the body until person and lotus, lotus fragrance, clear water, and blue sky merged in perfect stillness. Ah, how wonderful. Just thinking about it, Wu Aizhen could almost taste a sweet, pure fragrance in her mouth…
“You don’t like it?” Akikawa Yamaguchi asked, noticing the disappointment in her eyes.
“It’s nothing—just different from what I imagined. No matter. Since we’re only here to rest, let’s stay.”
Akikawa Yamaguchi booked two single rooms facing each other. Once inside, Wu Aizhen found the room very pleasant. The soaking pool was spacious; its circular walls and floor were lined with smooth pebbles, and sitting in it was extremely comfortable. It was nothing like the ceramic tub she had pictured—more like a swimming pool, enclosed on all sides by glass. A person sitting in the pool seemed to be sitting inside a glass house; between the glass and the bedroom was a sliding wooden door that could be folded back against the wall when not needed. The bed was a deep-blue fabric frame with deep-blue sheets and pillows—it looked wonderfully romantic and soothing. The room’s wainscoting and ceiling were finished in a dark blue, mirror-like material that reflected her image; there was a small pale-blue desk and a simple pale-blue chair. In one corner stood a tall basket of colorful dried flowers, quietly blooming in this crystal palace of a room, adding warmth and color to the underwater world.
Wu Aizhen sat quietly in the pool by herself. The water had already risen to her chest; it was hot, with no floral scent, only a faint hint of sulfur. Closing her eyes, she imagined that whoever designed this room must have wanted to create a crystal palace, but she wondered whether the color scheme would feel too cold in winter. Then she thought, people come here for the hot springs, and at the same time it’s quite special to enjoy the blue underwater ambiance. If art had to satisfy every person’s sensation, it would become a bit vulgar. Like a beautiful girl wearing a miniskirt in winter: if you want beauty, you shouldn’t worry about the cold. She sat there letting her thoughts wander. She wondered what Akikawa Yamaguchi was feeling now, bathed in the same rippling waves of blue-green light, and felt that his cold heart and this blue actually complemented each other quite well—except he was a shade gloomier than the room’s blue, unless the same blue light rippled in his eyes when there was love in them. Just then, her phone rang—three times in a row. She climbed out of the water, dripping wet, and thought it might be Akikawa calling from across the hall. But it was Keiko, calling from Japan. Keiko asked if she had any friends at a Buddhist monastery, preferably at one of China’s four great Buddhist mountains; she hoped someone could email her some recent pictures of these sacred sites. Wu Aizhen said she would give it some thought and get back to her once she found someone. Keiko asked what she was doing. Wu Aizhen said she was having fun in a crystal palace. Keiko giggled and said, “Aizhen-jie, you are so romantic! I hope you have a wonderful time—but be careful not to catch cold.” After hanging up, Wu Aizhen suddenly remembered that today’s divination had mentioned a minor ailment in Ren Qingfei’s hexagram. She sat alone in the pool for a long time, weighing it over and over, and finally dialed Ren Qingfei’s number. This time he hadn’t turned off his phone. Hearing her voice, he sounded delighted. “Bodhisattva,” he said, “do you know where I’ve been? I’ve been to India, Myanmar, Tibet—and now I’m at Mount Jiuhua in Anhui. I just arrived yesterday.”
“Are you well?” Wu Aizhen asked, her heart settling as she heard his cheerful tone.
“I had a bad cold a few days ago—had to get an IV drip—but I’m fine now. Only my appetite has been poor lately, probably because my diet’s been irregular on the road. And you? Is everything all right?” She said she was fine. “There’s so much I want to tell you. Let’s talk when I’m back. I plan to make pilgrimages to all four great Buddhist mountains; I’ll probably need a bit more time before I return to City A.” At that moment Wu Aizhen suddenly remembered about the photos Keiko wanted, so she gave Ren Qingfei Keiko’s phone number and website and asked him to send some pictures. He agreed without hesitation.
After hanging up, as she soaked in the pool once more, Wu Aizhen reflected that she had spent so much time speculating, circling, worrying, and fretting in her mind—but time always gave answers that caught her by surprise. Only moments ago she had been agonizing over how to make this phone call, what her first words should be, how she could help if he truly was ill—all kinds of questions had swirled in her head. Yet once she dialed, she simply said whatever came naturally. It wasn’t nearly as complicated as she had imagined. All her prior conjecture had been wasted mental energy. Everyone was walking their own chosen path; along the way, she herself was changing, and others were changing too. Every person had their own capacity to bear suffering and affliction. Everything was advancing steadily toward its established goal. Apart from changing and refining herself, she could change nothing. If she influenced others, it was only because her words and actions stirred something inside them, evoking either resonance or resistance. Every person lived in their own world, experiencing their own feelings, joys, and sorrows. If two people discovered beauty in each other’s worlds, that was the greatest cause for celebration—and perhaps love would follow… As she lay in the bath drifting through these random thoughts, she suddenly wondered how she had become so sentimental, so indecisive, so neurotically overanxious. The moment the thought occurred to her, she immediately let go of every thought—past and future. She felt her mind suddenly open up and brighten, and her whole body became extraordinarily light. Closing her eyes, she let herself dissolve utterly into the pool water, into the soft steam, into the deep pleasure of the warmth welling up ceaselessly from the earth, resting in this present moment, in a momentary unity of body, speech, and mind…
Just then, the scene from her dream two nights ago surfaced in her mind: a whole pond of white lotus flowers in full bloom, their petals as thin as cicada wings glowing with crystalline light, possessed of a mysterious beauty. She had never seen lotuses so large and so magnificent. She stood there transfixed at the edge of the pond, a strange fragrance hanging thickly in the air, refreshing her heart and mind. She seemed to grow drunk on that scent; her body went limp and soft, and she couldn’t move a single step… It had been such a wonderful and strange dream. Even now she could almost summon back that exquisite fragrance—a sweet, subtle scent, yet so cool and crisp; its beauty and perfume were utterly unearthly… Then she suddenly recalled Akikawa Yamaguchi’s dream, and that in his dream there had also been a white lotus. Was it pure coincidence, or was some special cause and condition at work?
At that moment there were several light knocks at the door, startling Wu Aizhen out of her dreamy reverie. She hastily climbed out of the pool, gave herself a quick, careless rubdown, pulled on the large white bathrobe, and—still with water dripping from her hair—opened the door. She assumed it was a hotel attendant, because Akikawa Yamaguchi had said he wanted to sleep after his bath and had told her to call him when it was time for dinner.
Akikawa Yamaguchi was standing at the door wearing the same style of bathrobe, his eyes shining. “May I come in?” Wu Aizhen glanced back at the still-steaming pool—she hadn’t had time to drain it—but she said, “Come in! It’s nothing. Did you wake up already?”
“Oh, I slept for a little while, but then a phone call woke me, and I didn’t feel like sleeping anymore. Have you been soaking this whole time? The attendant said you shouldn’t do more than forty minutes at a time—didn’t you hear that?”
“I heard. I forgot.” Wu Aizhen was toweling off her dripping hair.
“You look rather nice in that big bathrobe,” Akikawa Yamaguchi said, studying her seriously.
“Could you help me drain the pool? There’s a lot of steam,” Wu Aizhen said offhandedly, forgetting that draining it required climbing down into the water.
“Sure.” Akikawa Yamaguchi took off his bathrobe, revealing only a pair of navy-blue shorts underneath, and walked toward the pool.
Wu Aizhen was suddenly stunned, staring fixedly at Akikawa Yamaguchi’s back. What shocked her was not his athletic build, but the seven cherry blossoms laid out across his back like the stars of the Big Dipper. The blossoms were tattooed on his left shoulder blade in delicate shades of pink, pale pink, rose, and gold, and with the movement of his shoulders and back the seven flowers rippled, giving off a golden light, within which shimmered subtle hues of red, pink, and white. It was a work of astonishing craftsmanship, breathtakingly beautiful — even silk embroidery could not achieve such perfection. Wu Aizhen had never seen a tattoo so dazzling. She was shaken, not only by the beauty of the blossoms and the radiance of their colors, but also by Akikawa Yamaguchi’s athletic and flawlessly proportioned physique, his fair, smooth skin setting off the seven-star flower design with flawless harmony. His whole back was like a living work of art. She stared dumbly as that art walked into the pool, bent over, and pulled the drain plug, unable to say a word, unable even to find a word in her heart that could do justice to what she saw.
Akikawa waited until the water had almost drained before stepping out. Only then did he notice Wu Aizhen staring at him with a strange look he had never seen before. He looked himself over — nothing unusual! He often swam and faced audiences like this. Was he not supposed to have taken off his bathrobe? But how else could he have drained the water? Wu Aizhen couldn’t be so conservative that the sight of a man in shorts would frighten her. Yet she really did seem to have been stunned by something.
With that thought, he quickly pulled his robe back on and said, “Hey, are you okay?”
“Oh my God!” Wu Aizhen plopped down on the bed, finally coming back to herself, leaving Akikawa utterly baffled, wondering if soaking in the hot spring had made her ill.
“Your back, those cherry blossom stars on your back — they’re so beautiful!” Wu Aizhen tried to come up with a better word, but after groping for words for a long moment, she still could not find a single word that could deeply capture the shock and wonder in her heart. Even as she spoke, what came out felt so flat and uninteresting that it fell hopelessly short of what she felt, the difference like that between heaven and earth.
“Oh,” Akikawa finally understood. “You mean my tattoo?” He came over and sat down next to her.
“This tattoo is a special mark of our organization. An ordinary underling has only one blossom. The highest rank is seven blossoms, arranged like the Big Dipper, and they are gold. Haven’t you seen tattoos before?”
“I have, but I’ve never seen such a beautiful one.”
“Really? I can’t see it myself, and it’s distorted in the mirror.”
“Can I look at it again?”
“Sure.” Akikawa tossed the robe he had been wearing on the bed and turned his back to her.
Wu Aizhen looked from close range. Though it no longer had the stunning impact of that first glimpse, it still struck her as shockingly beautiful.
“Was the tattoo artist a woman?” She thought such a beautiful tattoo must have been done by a deft-fingered woman.
“No, it was a man. His family has been doing tattoos for generations; it’s a family trade.”
Wu Aizhen couldn’t resist reaching out to lightly touch the blossoms that seemed to have just fallen from the sky and become embedded in his back. The golden petals had a dazzling, ethereal, three-dimensional beauty, but under her touch the skin was smooth and flat. Akikawa’s shoulder suddenly quivered. He turned around abruptly and looked at her in silence. Wu Aizhen’s gaze was distant and entranced, like a pair of intoxicating springs, a mysterious haze veiling their clear surface. Akikawa loved this expression of hers more than anything. When she wore that look, he found her utterly endearingly foolish, pure as though she were untouched by the dust of the mortal world. He too could not help himself: he pulled her into his arms, laid her gently on the bed, and kissed her softly, as though afraid of waking the dream in her heart. Then the two of them lay quietly together, neither speaking a word.
“I once imagined what it would be like to lie in bed with you,” Akikawa said.
“Was it like this?”
“Not entirely. A little bit like this.”
“In what way?”
“The two of us lying close together, neither of us saying anything.”
“We don’t seem like people of this era.”
“I don’t know. But I feel this is very good. I feel there is a kind of love that is very pure, hidden deep in my heart, filling it completely. For the first time, love makes my eyes moist. I don’t dare ask anything of you — I’m afraid that in the face of this love, I’ll seem too crass.”
“Mm.” As she listened to him, she moved her head a little closer to his side.
He turned onto his side, slipped his arm under her head, gently drew her head to his chest, and buried his face in her long hair, breathing in its scent. But at that moment, Wu Aizhen felt her heart grow exceptionally still. She closed her eyes, and it seemed she suddenly smelled the fragrance of the lotus from her dream. That fragrance made her heart feel extraordinarily fresh and cool; she could not stir up the slightest anxiety or restlessness, and yet her whole body went limp, without a trace of strength.
Akikawa gently gathered her hair toward the pillow, held her face in both hands, and kissed her freely — forehead, eyes, mouth, neck. His hands were no longer under his control; in a daze, he untied her sash, and her robe fell open to either side. Underneath, she wore nothing. Abruptly he closed his eyes. For some reason, he felt like crying, a hint of guilt in his heart. But still, like her, he bared himself completely. He lay gently on top of her, his right arm still wrapped around her neck, his left hand grasping one of her outstretched hands. He kissed the palm of that hand. Then, his body slanting, he entered her. In that moment, he felt that his entire body and mind had gone into her with that motion, that he and she had merged into one.
In that dreamlike state, she suddenly felt a light shoot straight up from her perineum cakra, swiftly spreading through her limbs and the hundred channels of her body, to her fingers and toes… And with it, a bliss pervaded every cell of her body; she became an ocean of light…
His body trembled gently. He suddenly felt a golden column of light shoot up from his root, and in an instant, the inside of his body became extraordinarily spacious and ethereal. As the golden light vanished, a milky-white brightness poured down from his head, flowing through his body. Before his eyes a white lotus appeared, and as his body moved, a red column of light pierced the lotus heart again and again. Suddenly the lotus disappeared, and he stopped. The brightness congealed in an instant, then transformed into a red circle…
Wu Aizhen was the first to awaken from the dream. Blearily she opened her eyes and saw countless golden cherry blossoms fluttering down from the ceiling, melting into the hazy light. Akikawa’s face was pressed against hers, his body moving gently, so slowly, so softly. A clear, bright light filled her body; she felt cool and at ease…
Akikawa felt his body on the verge of melting away, utterly drained of strength, yet his member was hard as steel. Never had he so desperately craved to enter a woman’s body and heart. With each thrust, his entire being dissolved into that ocean of light… After who knew how long, Akikawa noticed that Wu Aizhen had wrapped her arms around him. He opened his eyes and saw her eyes, astonishingly bright like stars in the night sky, smiling up at him from beneath him. A warm current surged through his heart. He felt so content, so satisfied, so happy. He held her tight, pressed her firmly beneath him, and suddenly felt an urge to ravish her; he moved forcefully a few times…
The afternoon sunlight slanted lazily through the window. Akikawa covered Wu Aizhen with his robe. She looked at him, then closed her eyes and fell asleep, her face in slumber rippling with a smile of satisfaction and mystery…
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