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A man passed on a bicycle laden with produce. A milk wagon passed noisily in the opposite direction. Arguing men and boys were on their way to work. One by one, the shop-houses started to open their dark, wooden doors. A maid swept the steps. A boy started to lay out the tables for the customers. The fragrant aroma of teas and pastries filled the lower rooms of the Celestial Gates.Life started early on the busiest part of Nanjing East Road.
The Celestial Gates was a strange shop, but its proprietors were respected for their sense of decorum and discretion. Tea shops for women were not as common as those that catered to male patrons. The four tables set outside, furnished with ashtrays and bereft of tablecloths, were for those husbands who refused to let their wives go anywhere without them. On any given day of the week you could see an English clerk sharing a drink with a Hindi merchant or a Chinese man arguing with a Malay young man. They were not important, just exterior decoration of a shop that fulfilled a vital yet silent need of Shanghai’s diverse community.
The main saloon of the Celestial Gates was kept mostly dark and unbelievably fragrant. The high ceilings provided coolness in the stifling summer and damped the noise of dozens of women chatting among themselves and the clinking of fine cups against expensive saucers. Celestial Gate's service dishes, cutlery and caddies were English, but they served only the finest Chinese tea.
The patrons were as diverse inside the shop as they were outside. You would find cheongsam and sari in equal measures and two dozen different coiffures. The clink of jewelry added a little metallic note of merriment to the gathering.
There were four different young women whose work was to keep the cups filled and who paraded around the shop with youtiao and sōng gāo neatly arranged in bamboo baskets. For the right price, they would rush to the kitchen when a customer wanted to have something more substantial to eat. The sound of their heels made a happy sound through the airwell that connected the saloon with the kitchen where they asked the old nanny what kind of food they could offer to hungry patrons. Food was never scarce and Old Ning was always able to offer an array of dishes to choose from.
Their overseer was a small lady with long hair and sweet eyes who smiled at the customers and chided the maids with equal grace. Legend said that she was never seen in the same outfit twice; most of the ladies came to the tea shop just to verify it.
The Celestial Gates was not just the busiest tearoom for ladies in Shanghai. The array of services they offered was as contrasting as the ladies because this shop got the mission of taking care of the beauty and health of their patrons. It was such a difficult service to find that coins fell into their coffers in an unbroken stream. The owners of the shop could find solution for all ailments, from brewing a special tea that would forbid seed from taking hold to a way to find a corset more suitable for the hot summers.
At the end of the saloon, a wooden lattice screen formed a partition between the tables and a secret garden in the airwell of the building. In front of the screen, the main table of the room was bedecked with a fashionable taste. That was the table where the principal product of the shop was both in display for the customers. Madame sat there at the beginning of the hour, each hour, to provide the most sought after service of the shop.
Madame sold knowledge and rented a shoulder to cry on to the desperate wives of the elites of Shanghai. People in the street swore she could fix the most ruined marriage and reassure the most anxious wife. Mothers brought their daughters to her before their wedding day in hope of setting them along the best path in their new life.
Madame always provided her services in the most delicate of manners. Even in a room full of women, no one ever heard a piece of advice that wasn’t meant for their ears and no information ever leaked out onto the streets of Shanghai. Most of the husbands would tremble if they knew their wives came to Madame to complain about the inadequacy of their lovemaking or the shortness of their cocks. Madame knew her business well, and happy customers returned to her saloon just to sit with other women and nibble on sweets.
Happy customers were always the best business associates. They bring their friends to Madame with an air of satisfaction.
This day was like any other day. Women with their ladies in waiting were flocking to the shop at the first hour of the morning as they usually did.
Chatting voices and the fragrance of tea filled the room. Sook-Hee, hair coiffed and pinned back and dressed today with the exquisite sobriety of an English governess, surveyed the room. She stop for a moment between the saloon and the garden, her hand rested on the wooden screen. Her eyes were fixed on the new face in the room.
There was always a new face. They would fidget with their jewelry or their fans and click their heels nervously on the hardwood floor.
Newcomers were often betrayed by their anxiety, but that was not the case with this woman. This woman was dressed in a plain shirt and a long, straight skirt. She stood too still, staring at the walls and the roof as if contemplating their inexplicable existence. By her side, dressed in an equally plain outfit, was a rotund woman who wore a stern expression.
“It seems we have a fussy bride, Hideko,” Sook-Hee said to another woman dressed in exquisite silk. Fussy brides were the easiest of customers.
Hideko laughed from behind the screen, but her voice didn’t stand out from other voices in the saloon. “She doesn't seem fussed. Maybe the mother is the one who's here for advice.”
“You might be right, of course,” Sook-Hee shook her head. They always tried to guess the problems their customers might bring to the table; it had been helpful in the past. “But that round lady is a woman who can overpower those around her. She doesn't seem to need advice from you, or me or her gods.”
“Those are also the ones who can't get wet enough to enjoy their husbands .”
“They don't seem to be well-to-do. No jewellery.”
“Some don't wear jewels except on special occasions.”
“First time in this saloon and they’re not trying to impress everyone?”
Hideko shrugged. “It’s not unheard of.”
Sook-Hee sighed and moved into the saloon proper. She shimmered like a vision amidst their customers. She spared a smile for Aishani sitting in a corner - Aishani had once been a fussy bride herself, but now she sat nursing a healthy boy. A small small caress on the shoulder was her greeting to the Chinese lady managed to keep her cheating husband by learning how to caress his cock with her small feet. Sook-Hee's nimble fingers tucked a stray hair behind the ear of that British soldier’s wife who had learned to accommodate a cock into her bottom: Hideko had spun her a tale so hot that she’d rushed home to be buggered out of her own free will instead of being coerced to it by her brute husband.
They still have bitter arguments about Hideko’s choice with that lady. At night, they still discussed and bickered about sending that woman to such horrible man. The sheets of their bed warmed quickly when they had their hands locked together and their breast rising rapidly at the heat of their arguments.
They know their customers, they know all the ills that plagued the women of Shanghai. Yet Sook-Hee had left her training behind, she was not a thief anymore. Sook-Hee wanted to help them to find a better way to live their lives. Somehow Hideko was more worried with material profit. Their conflicting views often lead to bitter arguments.
Sook-Hee turned her eyes to the wood lattice screen in hopes to see her lover’s silhouette, but she had moved away.
“Miss?”
The mother's voice was as loud as her body was big and admitted nothing but complete attention. The din in the saloon muted to a faint whisper.
“How may I help you?” Sook-Hee bent forward so that the woman had no need to raise her voice to be heard. The motion also allowed her to feel the contents of her purse with a light touch. Maybe she hadn't forgotten her training completely.
“We need to talk to the Madame.”
“I know she would be amenable to that,” Sook-Hee intentionally forgot any title when she replied. She could feel a small box, probably lacquered, in the purse, and the woman’s breath had the smell of opium on it. “Please, let me make the appropriate agreements.”
“Good.”
Years ago, opium was the source of distress to Shanghai, but opium was not the plague it used to be. Maybe this could work in their advantage since people with numbed senses could be difficult to please. Sook-Hee moved behind the wooden screen.
Morning light poured over the greenery in the garden set in the airwell. Hideko was busy picking some blossoms for her table and once more, Sook-Hee wondered what practical purpose her lover’s little fancy could have.
“I heard everything” Hideko said.
“I supposed you did. I think she will be a difficult customer.”
“I'm sure the young one is giving her headaches.”
Sook-Hee let out an exasperated sigh.
“I'll be there in a moment.We shall see what we can do for her.” Hideko stroked the petals of a flower and smiled a small smile. “Did you find anything interesting in her purse?”
“Nothing that to be concerned about. Just be sure she gets enough to drink.”
Hideko nodded;she understood the warning. Whatever the reasons that woman had for smoking, it was better if they both tread carefully around the subject.
Sook-Hee re-entered the saloon proper and waited for Hideko to come to her side before she went into the saloor. Their fingers touched for the briefest moment before Sook-Hee moved toward the women.
“Madame will see you now,” Sook-Hee pronounced with the exact tone one might use when speaking of a holy man. The women always reacted to that tone and approached Madame’s table with the appropriate amount of reverence.
Sook-Hee guided the women to the main table, made a polite curtsy, and moved away, but she didn't like way that young woman looked straight forward and why the older woman started to walk behind the young one. Maybe they read the signals wrong, but she came to the table with the women and let Hideko deal with them.
Hideko nodded pleasantly and smiled at the women. The round one warmed up immediately, but the young woman's face became stern. The older woman did not take the offered chair. Instead, she nodded at Madame before making a deep bow before the younger. The older woman then turned her back, and with that left the Celestial Gates. Sook-Hee felt disconcerted from a moment, but she was forced to keep her pleasant smile for the sake of the other customers.
“Welcome to my home,” Hideko greeted as if the older woman meant nothing. She took up one of the flowers she had brought to the table. “I hope you find everything to your taste.”
“It will do,” the young woman said, snappish.
“I can make accommodations if you are not pleased.” Hideko extended the flower and caressed the young woman face with it. Sook-Hee knew that flirtatious attitude was part of the act, but it never failed to bring a pang of jealousy to her heart.
“Don't bother.”
“I aim to please.”
“Who is it that you are pleasing,” the young woman said with a cold tone, ignoring the caress, “when you recommend that a young lady get married?”
“It largely depends on the interests of said lady.”
“This lady was not interested in marriage.” The woman was unaffected by Hideko’s charms..
“And you are so sure because...?”
“Because I know for sure she will not find happiness in the arms of any man.”
Hideko raised an eyebrow and rested her weight against the screen. This was not the first time they had encountered other women with same interests as their own, but it was the first spurned lover coming to express their displeasure. At the first chance available, Sook-Hee scurried behind the screen to hear the story of those grievances, Hideko always have the perfect story to assuage every fear and to quench every jealousy.
“May I inquire which young lady we are speaking about here?” Hideko's face became a mask. It was the same expression she used to wear when Count Fujiwara was seducing her in Korea. “I have had the great privilege of advising many young ladies in this very same table.”
“I'm talking about Lady Heng.”
At the sound of that name both Sook-Hee and Hideko looked at each other. Their startled gazes met over the head of the young woman. Lady Heng had only come to them once: she had cried over her impending marriage and asked to hear a story about how she had been expected to behave in her first night as a wife. Neither Hideko or Sook-Hee had suspected she had a preference for perfumed skin.
“I'm Han Shu Quian, and you pushed Lady Heng into the arms of my brother.”
In hindsight, they were lucky they had never been put in a similar predicament before. Hideko touched her lips with her fingers, her gaze lost on the rafters of the ceiling; her whole bearing speak of intense introspection. The young lady appeared to choke in the very air she was breathing.
“I don't see what your problem is,” Hideko said after some agonizing moments had passed. She lifted the lid of the sugar pot and stirred some into her tea.
“You might not, but I do.”
“You are brewing a storm in a teacup.” Hideko's voice was sweeter than her tea. Sook-Hee was instantly reassured: that was the tone she displayed when feigning a bovine lack of intelligence. Save for herself, Sook-Hee’s love could fool anyone. “Think for a moment of all the lovely places a woman and her sister-in-law could go and all the beautiful moments you could provide her within your own house,” Hideko suggested between sips. “Think of all the summer nights you could share when the air is still and the heat wraps you like a blanket.”
Sook-Hee didn’t need to see Hideko’s face to envision the small tilt of her head and the slightest parting of her perfectly made up lips.
“Maybe Lady Heng considered all of that herself, before she married your brother. I don’t know. Maybe for Lady Heng marriage was the best solution she could find, and she took the best decision for her.”
“Was that her plan?”
“She didn’t confess her plans to me.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That, I can’t tell you.” Hideko put her cup down on its saucer. “A customer’s privacy is kept sacred within these walls. But, if you have the time, I have a story to tell you about a woman who escaped marriage to be with her true love…”
As Hideko spoke, Sook-Hee passed her fingers through the wooden lattice screen, touching her lover lightly on the back. Each time Hideko told the story of their love, Sook-Hee felt a rush of emotion throughout her body and the unavoidable need to touch Hideko. Each repetition of the tale was a quiet affirmation of their love. Each breath out of her mouth caressed her body, soothing her pain in the difficult parts; each word was a caress over her hungry body and each pause was a kiss setting her spirit on fire. Sook-Hee closed her eyes and let Hideko's words flow over her.
Eventually, Lady Han left the table. Sook-Hee noticed her step was not as loud, not as confident. The crisis was averted by Hideko’s brilliant mind.
“I love you,” Hideko said, intertwining her fingers with Sook-Hee’s.
Around them, women chattered, sharing gossip and beauty advice and complaints about married life. Maids rushed about serving tea. The women shared gossip and beauty advices and complained about married life.
The Celestial Gates was performing business as usual.