Free Secret of a Thousand Beauties by Mingmei Yip

could leave for higher pay somewhere else.
    But, of course, Aunty would never suspect that on my walks I would climb the mountain and inscribe on the rocks some of the embroidery patterns that I’d learned. I’d also record some of the things that happened to me and what I thought about them. I used the small knife I had taken from Mean Aunt’s kitchen and used it to inscribe the rocks. Making the scratches was hard, but so was everything else in my life.
    I was lucky that this mountain was close enough to the house that I could walk here when I had a little free time. Although I felt happy to come here alone, I also wondered why there were never any other hikers. There was nothing special on my little mountain, so probably no one else was interested. Why come all the way here where there was no benefit? Maybe the reason Aunty had her house nearby was just because hardly anyone ever came here. Purple had said that Aunty wanted to be left alone. Or maybe, like me, she didn’t want to be found. If my suspicion was correct, then what was Aunty escaping from? Maybe someday I’d find out, but for now I would concentrate on absorbing what she had to teach me.
    One day when I was on the mountaintop and was about to write, I was startled to discover that someone had written something next to my writing.

    Good day miss,
    Sorry to learn about your unhappiness. Maybe I can help you.
    Your calligraphy is very refined, so you must be from an educated family and of good character. I really want to know more about you.
    You have a hard climb to write your thoughts up here. And I don’t understand your pictures. Though I am a stranger, I wonder about you. What do you do? Are you a student? Married?
    I hope you will answer me, but if not, I won’t write on your rock again. Although we’ve never met, I am lucky that I had the chance to read about you.
    Shen Feng,
A fellow lover of mountains

    The writer was almost certainly a man, judging by his given name, Feng, which means “mountain peak.”
    This message from a man I had never met shook me up. It seemed to me now that no place is completely private and no secrets can be kept forever! Who was this Shen Feng, and what was he doing up here in this remote place? Although my mind was filled with suspicion, I could not help but admire his elegant calligraphy. But why did he leave a message for me? Could my own scratched characters attract a man’s attention, when before the only man I could attract was a dead one?
    I reminded myself of Aunty’s admonition of not getting close to men and our vow of celibacy. I shuddered. Were all the women in our little group really prepared to die as husbandless old maids? Was I headed for a lonely old age with no children or grandchildren? Purple was the nicest of the group; was she really willing to give up the chance to have a family of her own? Even if I asked her, she might not tell me the truth. And Leilei, who was defiant, but also flirtatious? Anyway, she didn’t really talk to anyone but her mighty boss, Aunty Peony.
    I read the message again and again and felt fearful, but fascinated. If I responded, what would happen to me? But I would never know unless I answered him. So with an unsteady hand I took out my knife to inscribe.

    Dear Mr. Shen Feng,
    I’d thought no one but me would climb this mountain in the middle of nowhere, let alone read my humble writings and reply to me. I am nobody in particular. Someday I hope to be a skilled embroiderer.
    Wish me good luck.
     
    Spring Swallow,
On the no-name mountain

    During my descent, my heart pounded and my cheeks were hot as a wok. I’d just left a message for a man, a total stranger! Now I was happy because my mountain writing actually had a reader. But then worry seized me, since I had also inscribed some of Aunty’s embroidery patterns. Would this Shen Feng copy them—or even sell them to other embroiderers? If Aunty found out, she’d definitely kick me out of her house. From now on I