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John Ball - Five pieces of jade

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John Ball Five pieces of jade
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    Five pieces of jade
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    Toronto ; New York : Bantam Books
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    1973
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John Ball

Five pieces of jade

CHAPTER 1

Yumeko did not need to open the draperies that covered the large front window to look down the street; she simply drew back one corner and put her head close to the glass. In fact the draperies were seldom opened because Mr. Wang preferred to have them closed. And since it was Mr. Wang's house, and he was the master of it in the fullest sense of the word, they continued to shut out both the bright light of day and the view of neighbors who might display undue curiosity concerning what was going on inside.

Far down the street, making his slow way closer, she saw the mailman. His stubby little vehicle, she knew, would be filled with information, news, and some goods which he would mete out in small portions along the length of his route. Much of what he had would be either routine or unwanted; the remainder would be the vital part, good news and bad already at least a day or two old, but which would not become known until the delivery had been completed. Yumeko had little anticipation of her own. It was because of Mr. Wang that she was anxious for the man in the red, white, and blue vehicle to reach their driveway and give them what was theirs. What he did after that was no concern of hers, at least not for another twenty-four hours.

What she did not like was having to go outside to collect the mail. She did not care to appear in public, even on the streets of this quiet West Coast American city. She was twenty-six years old and in some respects quite beautiful; her face was well formed and her dark Asiatic eyes needed no makeup to exert an exotic fascination. Her body, in most respects, was aU that she could reasonably hope for. She had a natural liquid grace which set off well the contours of her figure and, unlike many girls bom in the Far East, she had both well-proportioned legs and a very satisfactory bosom according to American standards. But she stiU kept out of sight as much as she was able-people asked too many questions.

She waited until the postman was slowing up in front of the house. Then she went out, her eyes protesting the sudden brilliance of the sunlight. The mailman knew her, which in a way was a small help. She accepted from him a small handful of envelopes, none of which appeared too important, and then waited. When he turned to look behind him she was suddenly hopeful. Then he got out, opened the rear door, and extracted a box.

Yumeko signed for it on behalf of Mr. Wang and took it carefully into her arms. It was moderately heavy, as she had hoped it would be. Attached to it was a brown envelope which contained the necessary documents; it had been opened and resealed with Scotch tape. Walking carefully to guard against a last-minute disaster, she reentered the house, put the package down in the center of the marble-topped table in the foyer, and then went to inform Mr. Wang that at long last the shipment he had waited for so patiently had arrived.

Wang Fu-sen looked up pleasantly when she came into his study; he almost always did that no matter what the hour or whatever state of mind he might be in. It was as though he were trying to erase aU of the unhappy moments in her past life, despite the fact that he had already given her far more than anyone could possibly be expected to do. "The mail just came," she said. "There is a package from Singapore."

Mr. Wang blinked once or twice behind his rimless glasses. "How does it appear?" he asked.

"I saw no signs of damage."

"Excellent." He rose from his desk and came forward. Because he had no intention of going out that day, and was expecting no visitors, he was wearing the long dark purple Chinese gown that he favored for his days at home. "Please bring the box into the kitchen."

Dutifully she went and collected it, carrying it for the last few feet of its long journey with a full sense of its importance. Her slender knowledge could never match the vast learning of Mr. Wang concerning the stone of heaven, but since she had been living in his house her interest had been awakened and he had helped her with his instruction.

Although he was over seventy years of age, Mr. Wang's hands were still smooth and capable. With them he cut tie cord which surrounded the wrapping paper, then removed the paper itself with the neat skill of the careful craftsman. When he had finished, a plain wooden box was revealed, addressed on the outside so that if the paper had been torn 2

away, it could still have found its destination. For just a few moments Mr. Wang examined the documents which had been in the brown envelope and found them all in order. The Certificate of Antiquity was the most important; it verified the contents and in so doing made them admissible into the United States, duty free. It was not the duty which concerned Mr. Wang, but for a long time there had been a ban; during that period the certificates had been absolutely essential.

With a light hammer and a screwdriver he carefully removed the twenty-two small nails which held the lid in place. When he had done so, he lifted it away and saw a carefully compressed mass of excelsior. Buried within it there was another box, this one also wrapped in brown paper. As soon as Mr. Wang had lifted it out, Yumeko removed the outer box and the wrappings, putting them neatly to one side. Her anticipation almost matched Mr. Wang's as he unwrapped the paper and at last revealed a cloth-covered blue box that was held shut by two ivory pins that fitted into sleeves.

Before he opened the box Mr. Wang deliberately waited while Yumeko swept the tabletop clear with her hands and dropped the stray pieces of excelsior into the wastebasket. Then he slipped out the ivory pins and lifted the lid.

The entire inside was lined with white satin. On the lid it had been formed into a cushion; in the bottom it carefully nestled a crudely shaped implement of stone. The object was no more than an inch wide and very slightly tapered, in length something between nine and ten inches. As Yumeko looked at it she was disappointed in its color; it was a dirty light gray and in a few places the edges had been crystalized so that they appeared ready to crumble. When she looked into the face of Mr. Wang as he contemplated it, she knew that once more her superficial feminine judgment had been wrong.

"I am very grateful that it has arrived safely," she said.

Mr. Wang wiped his glasses. "You are wise, for if anything had happened to it, no replacement would have been possible. You understand what it is?"

"It is jade."

"Indeed yes, but that is like saying that Lao-tzu was a man. It is a true Ya-Chang, which in ancient China authorized the bearer to mobilize troops or to take command of important military installations. There are many fakes, but this one is genuine. Can you estimate its age?"

Yumeko looked at it again and knew that it was very old indeed; it had probably been made before Christ was born. "Han Dynasty?" she ventured.

Mr. Wang smiled at her with gentle regard. "That is most intelligent; it could very well be Western Han, and it shows indications of that period. However, there are certain small details which, when it was examined by experts, established that it is earlier still. It is accepted to be of the Chou Dynasty, most likely the Period of the Spring and Summer Annuals."

She studied it for a moment before she spoke again. *'It is most fortunate that it is now in your hands."

Graciously Mr. Wang bowed to her. "Your speech is as well made as the beauty that surrounds you."

"I am not beautiful." She said it tersely, unwilling even for a moment to forget the thing she could never leave behind her.

The one man who had been truly kind to her in her life lifted his hand. "Let us install the precious Ya-Chang."

As he picked up the box she ran ahead to turn on the lights. Despite the harsh sunlight outside, the well-protected large room at the rear of the house would be in darkness. It was a tribute to the trust that Mr. Wang reposed in her that she was allowed to visit it at any time and to remain as long as she liked. With proper feminine instinct, which did not betray her this time, she left the main lights off and pressed the switch for the cabinet lights instead.

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