“Be prepared for romance on August 4,” says Sifu Sabrina. “It’s Chinese Valentine’s Day.”

 

“Two Chinese lovers are going to meet on August 4,” Sifu Sabrina says, sitting straight in a club chair. “You know who they are?” A silver pendant hangs from her neck and the sparkle in her eyes matches the stars outside. A green spaghetti strap top displays the curves of her body and her legs protrude from beneath a miniskirt of faux leather.   

My gaze wanders around the living room before skipping to Sifu Sabrina’s face. “Concubine Yang Guifei and Emperor Xuanzong?”

There are feng shui objects on one wall shelf and two Chinese landscape paintings hang from another wall above an Internet TV.  A brown vase choked with spider lilies is standing on the mahogany coffee table between us and beside the former, a small bowl overflows with cherries. The curtains of the balcony glass door are drawn apart, permitting an excellent view of the twinkling cityscape. 

A smile parts Sifu Sabrina’s generous mouth. “Wrong.” The smell of rose from her perfume drifts to me, warming my blood, and I sniff like a wolf, slouched  in my own club chair, its fabric as soft as cotton.

I draw in a deep breath to eject the next word. “Us?” It was a pitiful hopeless shot in the dark with nothing to lose.  

Sifu Sabrina quirks one corner of her kissable lips in a sneer. “Not even in your wildest dream! It’s the weaver maid and cowherd boy.” She tosses a side glance at the grandfather clock on the wall as it strikes ten, and her shoulder strap drops. My jaw drops, too. “We’re only BFF.”  Her voice is firm. “Best friends forever.”

A bashful grin breaks away from my mouth. “Come on, you know I was only joking.” My throat feels tight, almost squeezed shut.  “So, what’s their tragic love story? A love story’s always tragic to be memorable, isn’t it?” My eyes play hide-and-seek with hers.

“Of course.” Sifu Sabrina nods and puckers her lips. “Now, Niulang, a cowherd, met a weaver girl named Zhinu. They fell in love and married. Zhinu was actually a fairy and she bore him two children. Her mother, the Goddess of Heaven, disapproved of the marriage because Niulang was a mortal. So, she sent two celestial soldiers to escort Zhinu back to Heaven. Niulang flew to Heaven to look for his wife but his mother-in-law created the Milky Way to separate them.” She places two slender long-nailed forefingers side by side and draws them apart.  “Their cries of pining for each other were heard frequently by the old bitch. Out of sympathy, she allowed the couple to meet once a year on the seventh day of the seventh month. They walk on a bridge created by a parliament of magpies over the Milky Way. Their yearly meet is called the Qixi Festival or Double Seven Festival.”

“There’re holes in the story. How did a fairy meet a cowherd?” I take a sip of my Pina Colada cocktail, my mood turning as sweet as my drink in my hand. Gee, Sifu Sabrina can moonlight as a bartender if she wants to.

“Zhinu and a few other fairies came from Heaven to Earth to bathe in a river. Niulang spotted them and stole the clothes that happened to belong to Zhinu. When the other fairies flew back to Heaven, Zhini was stranded cos she had no clothes. Later, Niulang returned her clothes—that’s how they met.”

“What!” I sputter. “A voyeur gets to marry his victim? How lucky! That perverted son-of- a-bitch must have sniffed at her undies before returning them.”

A near-hysterical giggle escapes from Sifu Sabrina’s smooth, silky throat. “No!” The word explodes from her mouth and she gives her head a gentle shake which swings her earrings. “He only stole her clothes.” Sifu Sabrina intertwines the fingers of both hands in her lap.  “She was in her undies when Niulang returned her clothes. The incident purportedly took place at the foot of the Tianzhu Mountain in Anhui Province. Today, there’s a bridge called Magpie Bridge that links two cliffs on the mountain. It’s a tourist attraction.”  She unlaces her fingers, reaches out for her Strawberry Daiquiri and takes a gentle swallow.

I scratch the side of my head with a finger. “How did Niulang fly to Heaven?”

Sifu Sabrina returns her drink to the coffee table with a soft thud. “He slaughtered a celestial cow that had been banished to Earth. Used its hide to make a cloak that enabled him to fly—another version of the legend says shoes. Anyway, he also carried his son and daughter with him in separate baskets hung from two ends of a pole.”

“How’s this Qixi Festival celebrated?”

Sifu Sabrina crosses her ankles, drawing my attention to her red toe-nails: they're immaculately manicured. “The traditional way is to pray to Zhinu by setting an altar, with a chair, in the front compound of one’s house. There’re several traditional food that should be offered. It’s also necessary to display a round mirror, a comb, white powder and rouge, a basin of water and a face towel.” Her curly lashes flip up with a sweet smile. “These items are to allow Zhinu to beautify herself before she meets Niulang. But praying to Zhinu is mostly observed in Taiwan and China, not here. Here, people take their loved ones to dinner, give flowers, presents." 

My heart thumps faster. “Err, you free for dinner on August 4?”  I cross two fingers of my right hand but, at the same time, steel myself for rejection.

A look of surprise makes Sifu Sabrina’s face appear cuter. “I’ll be praying in my balcony.” She uncrosses her ankles and hitches one knee over the other.

My heart ricochets against the walls of my chest as I fire away a last-ditch attempt. “Then can I join you in prayer?”

“No, unless you want to lose your balls.”  A laugh spews from Sifu Sabrina’s ample chest. “Only women pray to Zhinu, men who pray to her will become effeminate.” Her voice rises a decibel. “Serious.” She stabs me with a slanted look that holds both tease and approval. “But you can come watch and later snack on the offerings after prayer.”

Sifu Sabrina and I lift our glasses and clink them. “Cheers!” we say in unison. 

/end