The loud barks of Chu Hua’s beast of a dog and the sound of the sliding-door to my quarters being forcefully pushed apart woke me from what had been an uneasy slumber. I rubbed my eyes and sat up on my divan, noticing that my hair arrangement and bun had become awfully askew. So did Xingjuan apparently because after she had calmed down the dog, she came hurrying to my side and started fixing my hair, before I had even turned around to look at the visitor, who had so loudly announced his entrance.

In the door stood a corpulent, bald, elderly man dressed in muted blue like the servants, but with a sparkling silver pheasant embroidery stretched across his chest.

“Where’s my favorite truant?” he said with a voice that was loud and clear, yet oddly youthful sounding for a man of his age.

I assumed that I was meant with ‘truant’, so I gave him an insecure smile and small bow.

The situation was very odd for me: He wore the clothes of a servant, but the attitude of someone at least equal to me. This had to be the art teacher – Master Zha – who apparently was allowed to speak to me this way.

While I had rested, Xingjuan had evidently cleared a corner of the room, right next to the porch, so that lots of natural afternoon light streamed in from outside, where she had laid out several large white papers, ink stones and brushes.

“Let’s get to work then,” said Master Zha and marched into the room towards the row of white papers, while Xingjuan quietly went to close the door behind him.

My stomach had calmed down, but the day had taken its toll on my nerves and this situation was straining them additionally: Would I be expected to paint according to some special technique? Surely! And although I had always thought myself to be quite the skilled amateur painter, I had never mastered any specific technique – certainly not whatever would be expected of me now.

But luckily I did not have to perform right away – first Master Zha walked up and down the row of white paper, checking whether everything was arranged to his satisfaction and slightly shifting a paper and the stones that weighed it down, if it displeased him.

Meanwhile Xingjuan had unrolled a large painting scroll that she was now arranging on a low board on the porch, so that I had a good look at it, while facing the white papers. The scroll showed a simple painting of a twig with a few leaves and a cautious blossom. Although – as a result of the use of black ink only – the blossom was grey, it still looked pretty and delicate and I wondered whether I would be asked to paint something similar.

My question was answered, when Master Zha sat his large frame down on a seat cushion that Xingjuan had arranged for him on the porch, looked up at me expectantly and finally said:

“Go ahead, Chu Hua. It’s copying time, once again. Before you don’t complete this exercise satisfactorily, we won’t be doing anything but peony blossoms.”

I timidly stepped closer to the first white paper in the row. I didn’t even know what to do first. Was the ink ready or did I still have to grind it? What brush should I pick? There were dozens lying next to the papers. And what would I draw first – the stem?

Master Zha was evidently not a patient teacher, because he soon loudly clapped his hands together to get my attention.

“A mid-sized brush, milady?”

“Ehm, yes,” I said, reaching for what I hoped constituted mid-sized.

“And…?”

I looked up again – irritated.

“Some ink?”

“Yes, yes!”

I quickly sat down, plunged my brush into the ink and then held it warily in some distance over the white paper in front of me.

I could feel Master Zha’s expectant gaze on me, but I didn’t want to meet his eyes, to not make it seem like I was entirely helpless – although I was. Trying to take initiative I stretched out my arm and drew a quick, curved line like the stem in the original painting.

I looked up to check whether Master Zha was shaking his head or showing signs of disapproval, but he wasn’t: His eyes were focused on the single small line that I had drawn and his lips pressed together in anticipation.

I quickly returned my attention to the drawing and simply went with my gut: A small leaf, another one, a large petal, another one, a small petal, another one and another one.

What I had painted didn’t look like a particular good copy of the original peony painting, but it wasn’t too bad either. I looked up again at my teacher to see his reaction and found him staring at me with a puzzled look.

“Did you practice since our last lesson?” he asked, with something between amusement and admiration in his voice.

“No. Well, not really. I… I have been meditating. One says that helps with… a steady hand,” I mumbled.

Master Zha looked me over as though the secret to my sudden skills was somehow to be read off my appearance. When examining me alone didn’t give him a satisfactory answer, he told me to paint the same peony blossom again and so I did.

An hour later I had drawn 8 peony blossoms in a row and was quite proud with the result: I had gotten better with each try and in the end my painting did quite resemble the original. During the whole process Master Zha had remained largely quiet, only telling me to switch brush on occasion or to use more or less ink.

Now he sat on his seat cushion silent and deeply immersed in thought, while I was waiting for a final comment or another painting task. I had originally thought that I needed to prove skill to pass as Chu Hua, but now I thought that possibly Chu Hua wasn’t such a skilled artist and that I would have raised less suspicion had I drawn more sloppily. My poor nerves were thus quite strained and I was desperate for Master Zha to give his final word and let me go.

“Maybe I was wrong all along,” he said finally, his eyes still on my row of paintings, “Maybe you are indeed a natural. I’d just like to know what it took to coax it out of you.”

He looked up at me and gave me a smile.

“Wherever you’ve been taking those magical secret art lessons, keep going there. With me as additional guidance we might get you to a level that makes your art presentable to someone higher up at court. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

I nodded and Master Zha lifted his heavy body from the cushion and got up. Xingjuan had opened the door for him before he had even taken two steps in its direction. On the threshold he turned around once more, but instead of saying anything he gave me a respectful small bow and then left.

I let out a sigh of relief.

I had passed as Chu Hua once again. Close, but a pass nonetheless.

I turned around and looked out, over the porch and into the garden in the yard. The sun was already dipping the various plants and trees in orange evening light.

Time had gone by incredibly fast – how could it already be evening? What had I been doing all day? No, no, I did not want to think about the events of the day. All that would do was to give me a headache and I didn’t need one now.

There was still that temple I needed to get to.

I glared down at the dog that lay big and lazy on its cushion and was still watching my every move.

“Xingjuan,” I said, speaking Chu Hua’s maid’s name for the first time, “I’d like to be taken to the Temple now, if there’s not yet another reason why I can’t.”

Xingjuan, who had been carefully rolling up my various peony paintings – only leaving the most recent ones lying on the floor, since they still needed to dry – looked up and nodded. She left the painting material lying on the floor and went to open the door for me.

Most amazingly we made it all the way into the palanquin without interruptions. Xingjuan must have also told the palanquin carriers to hurry, because they were fast this time. As a result the palanquin shook a lot, but I didn’t mind the discomfort. The sun was in the process of going down and I needed to be in those fields before it was completely dark, because I didn’t dare climb down the Inner Wall without being able to see.

When the palanquin halted in front of the Temple, I didn’t wait for the carriers to open the curtain door for me – Ijust pushed it aside myself and started storming towards the large building at the end of the plaza, Xingjuan in pursuit.

I cursed under my breath as I tried to walk fast, but my long gown kept getting in the way. I decided to pick up my skirt, so that I could pick up speed.

“These clothes were specifically designed to keep women from running away,” I thought bitterly.

On my way towards the temple building, I wondered whether it had been as difficult for Chu Hua to escape the multiple times that she had, as it had been for me. I most certainly didn’t wish to be her any longer: Friends and servants she couldn’t trust, a daughter she was rarely allowed to see, a brother she really shouldn’t be loving the way she seemed to …

When I reached the steps that led up to the temple doors, that stood ajar, I stopped to catch my breath and quickly check the position of the sun. It looked like I had maybe another thirty or forty minutes until complete darkness – I needed to hurry, because I still needed some light in the field. And also in case… I couldn’t find my way back into my world… and needed to climb back inside the Inner Wall.

At the threshold into the entrance hall of the temple, Xingjuan stopped.

“I’ll wait here, milady,” she said, sitting down on a stone bench by the entrance.

“Very well,” I said, glancing at the young girl one more time and then hurriedly making my way up the spiral stair case.

Luckily the entrances to the various prayer rooms had differently colored curtains and I still remembered the rough position of the Rong family prayer room, so I found it again after only a few minutes.

I looked around to see if I had to check with anyone before entering, but there was no one around.

“It’s ‘my’ family’s prayer room after all,” I thought, “Should be fine.” And I pushed aside the heavy purple curtains.

“Surprise!” came a shout of several voices, in the very moment I pushed aside the curtains.

Sitting comfortably around a small portable table were… the woman in green and the other three friends of Chu Hua.

My stomach dropped. This was too much! Not again! No! No! No! I wanted to shout at the smiling faces in front of me. I wanted to actually go ahead and hurt them! Didn’t they know that I needed to be alone now!? I needed to prepare for a dangerous climb down a wall of at least 10 meters and I needed to hurry! Should I be shouting!? Did the situation allow it? Had they done something that would have upset the real Chu Hua? Something? Anything!

“What are you doing?” I said, barely managing to contain my anger and frustration.

“Well,” said the woman in green, who had stood up upon me entering the room, “You remember we wanted to have a private practice for the Autumn Dance together this morning and you missed it. So, we thought we’d stage the practice right here, where you wouldn’t escape us again – while at the same time allowing you to maintain your image of the devout disciple of Her Greatness He Xiangu.”

The woman in blue, who had been so sad upon the mentioning of children during lunch, added with a big smile: “We also brought your favorite wine to drink, when we take a break from dancing! I hope you don’t mind that we already started the good drop without you.”

I gaped.

“Alcohol in a temple?” I asked.

“Oh, yes,” said another of Chu Hua’s friends, “I snuck in the bottle, keeping it safely behind my sash and Meifeng smuggled in the cups in her sleeves.”

The woman in green waved her long sleeves and the four women laughed heartily.

I expected that this situation would have been one strongly welcome by the real Chu Hua – well, during times when she wasn’t trying to escape herself. But how should I react?

I looked towards the window that overlooked the Inner Wall and gave view of the sky: The sunlight would be gone within the next twenty minutes. That was barely enough time for me to climb down, much less to get rid of the tea party that had invaded my prayer room.

I quickly calculated: I could get furious with the four women now and pretend like I was really this super devout religious person, who didn’t want her prayer hours disturbed – certainly not by alcohol! But it would not buy me enough time to cast them out the room and complete me journey down the wall and into field. It just wouldn’t.

Hopelessness came over me.

Not again… no… not another night…

It was no use. I couldn’t make it home in the dark. In fact I could fall to my death if I tried to climb the wall by night. I had done a lot of crazy things lately, but risking my life wasn’t something I wanted to try.

Well, staying wasn’t very safe either, but I felt my chances of survival were increased should I come by the temple tomorrow morning, rather than try to get home now.

I would have to stay in Cathay for another night…

I let myself fall on an empty seat cushion, declaring defeat for the day. The four women cheered, clapped and were soon filling and re-filling cups with wine. The woman in green, who had been called ‘Meifeng’ handed me one.

“Cheers!” she said and let her cup clink against mine, while a generous gush out of hers and mine spilled.

“Oops,” Meifeng said and giggled.

Was she drunk already?

I took my cup with the remaining wine closer to my face and sniffed it. The smell was an odd mix of spicy and sweet, not the sour or bitter smell I was used to from the wine that my mum and Young Hwan drank sometimes.

I had only fairly recently turned 19 and as I hadn’t been allowed to drink any alcohol earlier than that – and had been quite the law-abiding citizen – I was indeed holding my very first alcoholic beverage in my hand. And I had no idea how strong it was!

I looked around at the other women. Unfortunately I didn’t know how much they had drank so far only that they already looked tipsy. This beverage was no joke then…

I ogled the bright red liquid in my cup again. It smelled good, but I was kind of scared about what would happen if I drank it. If it was too spicy, would I spit it out? Wouldn’t that raise suspicion? Also if it made me tipsy or god-forbid drunk – that would be bad all around! Who knows what I could start blabbering about… But if I drank nothing at all that could be suspicious, too…

I made a quick decision, hastily gulped down the bit of wine that had remained inside my cup and then put the cup back down on the table. The liquid burned in my throat, but the sensation was oddly pleasant and left a surprisingly luscious taste in my mouth.

Within a second, one of the women had filled my cup up again and raised hers to clink glasses with me.

“Oh, I shouldn’t,” I said.

The woman laughed.

“What are you talking about? Of course we shouldn’t, but we’re doing it anyway! That’s the point!”

I tried not to stare too much as I clinked my cup with hers. These women seemed no different from young women in South Korea… There was a need for distraction from reality co-existing and co-conspiring with a rebellious spark. Their daily lives were bound by rules and etiquette but in small private get-togethers like this they let loose like any other human being.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” asked Meifeng. “Don’t tell me that’s only your second?”

I looked at her.

“To be honest. I don’t feel like drinking.”

The women exchanged looks.

“Of course,” said Meifeng, “You’re right. We’re not just here to have fun, we should actually get some of that practice done that we didn’t do this morning.”

The women all nodded. I could simultaneously feel my stomach drop and a weird feeling spread out inside my head. No, no, no – not another practice of something where I had no idea how good Chu Hua was at it… especially not simultaneously with my first bit of drunkenness. At the same time I was still somewhat angry over how my path had been blocked by the drinking girls in front of me and I was feeling pissed, nevertheless I got up and declared:

“Yeah, let’s do it!”

I’m not sure when I got back into Chu Hua’s quarters.

Once I lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling – oddly still pumped with energy – I tried to piece together the evening: Chu Hua’s friends had showed me a dance that we were all expected to perform at a festival in a few days’ time, but since they had already been rather tipsy they had continued to mess up and then gotten into fits of laughter and giggling. Luckily this had meant that no one was surprised when I couldn’t do any of the dance steps either. Still it had been hard for me to keep up my façade as the girls made all sorts of inside jokes and references that I did not understand. To excuse myself from making sense, I had gulped down several more cups of wine that had been offered to me. As a result I had ended up much drunker than intended and discovered that alcohol made me rather hyper. I had even ended up showing the girls some KPop dance moves, which to no surprise they had found odd and hilarious.

Now I lay in bed, in a bit of a daze and ran my tongue over my lips and inside my mouth - the taste of the forbidden liquor still lingering on it. Somehow with each gulp of the sweet liquid I had cleaned my mouth of the invisible marks that Min Shuo had so eagerly left there. Despite being drunk and not fully in control of my limbs, my mind was surprisingly sharp and clear: I knew that I could spend a lifetime trying to figure out the events of the last two days and I wouldn’t understand.

Reality. Truth. Intimacy.

All of these I was bound to question for the rest of my life. And with that thought in my head I fell asleep.