The Hidden Girl
Ken Liu
Beginning in the eighth century, the Imperial court of Tang Dynasty China increasingly relied on military governors—the jiedushi—whose responsibilities began with border defense but gradually encompassed taxation, civil administration, and other aspects of political power. They were, in fact, independent feudal warlords whose accountability to Imperial authority was nominal. Rivalry among the governors was often violent and bloody. —
On the morning after my tenth birthday, spring sunlight dapples the stone slabs of the road in front of our house through the blooming branches of the pagoda tree. I climb out onto the thick bough pointing west like an immortal’s arm and reach for a strand of yellow flowers, anticipating the sweet taste tinged with a touch of bitterness.
“Alms, young mistress?”
I look down and see a bhikkhuni. I can’t tell how old she is—her face is unlined but there is a fortitude in her dark eyes that reminds me of my grandmother. The light fuzz over her shaved head glows in the warm sun like a halo, and her grey kasaya is clean but tattered at the hem. She holds up a wooden bowl in her left hand, gazing up at me expectantly.
“Would you like some pagoda-tree flowers?” I ask.
She smiles. “I haven’t had any since I was a young girl. It would be a delight.”
“If you stand below me, I’ll drop some into your bowl,” I say, reaching for the silk pouch on my back.
She shakes her head. “I can’t eat flowers that have been touched by another hand—too infected with the mundane concerns of this dusty world.”
“Then climb up yourself,” I say. Immediately I feel ashamed at my annoyance.
“If I get them myself, they wouldn’t be alms, now would they?” There’s a hint of laughter in her voice.
. . .
