Generous Orchid - Chapter 33
Resilient
Last week I traveled to the Appalachians. It was gorgeous. My daughter-in-law and I were supposed to go last year to hike the mountain trails. However, hurricane Helene devastated the area, sweeping away homes, destroying roads and bridges, and taking lives.
The beauty of the Appalachians cannot be denied, nor can the resilience. The hurricane left an obvious mark both on the land and the lives of its residents. It has taken time to recover the loss and restore the damage, but new life pushes up and above the wreckage.
As we move into the remaining chapters of Generous Orchid, it is a reminder that people are also resilient. When we think the damage is so great we’ll never recover, we find hope. We band together. We begin to heal, the new pushing through the ashes to the Light.
There’s a good chance that your story is also one of healing, hope, and resilience. I know mine is. I’m so grateful for the new that comes after the hard times.
If you need to catch up with the last few chapters, I’ll share a few links with you to make that easy.
After that, let’s jump into the next chapter of Generous Orchid. Since this is a longer chapter, and a lot is taking place, I’m sharing one chapter in this Substack issue.
But don’t worry, there’s more coming.
Generous Orchid, Chapter Thirty-Two
Cool air misted Sunsoo’s cheeks as she rode in comfortable silence toward the clinic. The sun peeked over the horizon, casting brilliant fingers of light in the early morning darkness. Her volunteer work at the clinic brought joy she didn’t know she could experience. Her favorite part was holding infants and kneeling to entertain younger children as they trembled while waiting to see the doctor. A smile or a burst of laughter from one of her charges was as satisfying as mooncake.
“The sun has barely risen from its slumber,” Ting said. She clutched a shawl around her shoulders to keep the chill out.
Sunsoo slowed the horse to a plodding walk.
“Perhaps Dr. Wong will be there. He sometimes comes in to talk to his God when all is quiet,” she said, casting a shy smile at her friend.
Heat crept all the way to Ting’s hairline. She bit her lip and looked away, her smile obvious. Ting was older than Sunsoo, but far younger where life was concerned. She was born late to her parents. Her father joined his ancestors just days after her birth. She was raised as a beloved reminder of their union.
When the time came to arrange her marriage, Ting’s mother did not conform to custom. Though they lived with little, Ting’s wealth rested in the love of a doting mother. She seemed to find contentment in their small home, in the flourishing garden, and in simple everyday tasks. When older farmers with large broods of children approached her mother with offers of marriage, they were rushed out of the house with excuses of bad omens or poor alignment of the stars.
That changed when Ting met Dr. Wong.
Watching their love grow was like watching a lengthy play unfold act by act. Dr. Wong had studied in the west, which was an extraordinary gift, but ties to his wealthy family were severed when he returned from America with his new beliefs. The doctor was kind and compassionate, but also shy in matters of love. Li Ting and he danced an intricate dance of politeness, though it was evident they cared for each other. Sunsoo was hesitant to ask Ting about her feelings, though she hoped to be present when the final curtain was closed on their love story.
“Do you think Dr. Wong will mind that we are arriving so early?” Ting asked.
“We may have to wait until he or one of the staff arrives. Annabelle has been in Peking during the holidays and the clinic is typically full around this time of the year. We can provide extra hands.”
Just as Sunsoo had secretly absorbed knowledge in the back of the classroom when Junhui was younger, she did the same in the clinic. She noted how Dr. Wong and his staff treated common diseases and ailments. She saw how he was conscientious with each person, no matter how long the line was or how full the waiting room might be. He noted her interest and graciously offered to lend her medical books, but Sunsoo refused, knowing that would not be received well by her husband’s family. She might never use the skills she was learning by observing, but the knowledge was worth collecting.
“Will you be visiting Junhui today?”
“I will,” Sunsoo replied.
Sunsoo had sent a message to her father. She planned to work in the clinic all morning and then visit her family while Ting assisted through the afternoon. According to their last correspondence, Junhui was thriving. Though an emptiness in her heart and her home lingered without her beloved son, she knew he was flourishing under the guidance of her father. If her son placed highly on his exams, it would prove that placing him in her family’s home was the correct choice. Whether he excelled above all the other boys or not, he was out of the reach of Zhenming’s brother, who lie in bed each day tangled in silk sheets, hatred, and an opium haze.
“Whoah. Whoah!”
Sunsoo yelped as the horse pranced sideways and threw up his head. She pulled in the reins as he attempted to run in a shallow ditch.
Ting held to the wagon with both hands. “What is happening?”
Sunsoo wrestled with the reins until the horse finally calmed.
That’s when the odor hit her nostrils. A spiral of smoke hung over the treetops. She barked a command at the horse and slapped the reins on his flanks. As they turned the corner, she halted the wagon and leaped down to the ground. Ting grabbed the reins to keep the animal from bolting.
It was hard to imagine what she was seeing.
The clinic stood before her like a blackened corpse. Outer walls crumbled like Chinese egg cake left out too long. The red clay roof was gone. The inside structure yawned like a cavern. She could see inside — bed frames melted and smoldering.
She tiptoed to the steps, careful to avoid red-hot embers scattered here and there. The fire had burned itself out, leaving only wafts of smoke climbing to the sky like demons. Inside, soot blanketed what was left. The smell of kerosene pinched Sunsoo’s senses. She pulled her cloak tighter around her face, coughing, tears running down her face against her will. She clamped her eyes shut and then opened them again for seconds at a time as she searched. One room stood amidst the destruction. The thick door hung open a crack.
“Ting! Please come.”
Ting ran to her side and gasped. Sunsoo yanked open the door and knelt to the floor to escape the smoke. She scrambled on her knees looking to the right and to the left, sweeping her hands as she called out. She prayed there was no one there at this hour.
Yet something told her to keep looking.
She heard a weak cough. She quickly brushed aside charred books and made her way to the oversized desk that had miraculously been spared. She heard the cough again, and called out the doctor’s name. She peered into the darkness under the desk, and saw Dr. Wong curled in a ball underneath. She tugged his body toward her. Warm blood seeped from the back of his head. She pulled off her cloak and gently maneuvered it underneath.
Sunsoo’s lungs were tightening by the moment. “We’ve got to get him out of here. We can’t stay in here any longer.”
“Is he . . .”.
“He breathes.”
Between the two of them, the women carried Dr. Wong outside. They stumbled out of the remains of the building and collapsed, gasping for air like a fish out of the Yellow Sea.
Dr. Wong opened his eyes. “He answered,” he whispered.
Sunsoo and Ting helped him to his feet, though he sagged like a bag of beans. They worked together to hoist him into the back of the wagon.
Sunsoo jumped up into the seat, and Ting followed. She slapped the horses with her reins, racing toward her father’s home.
“He is fortunate,” Father Wang said.
Sunsoo’s mother took control the moment Sunsoo ran through the door, shouting for help. Servants bustled, gathering fresh water and supplies. Dr. Wong sat on the soft divan, his body lolling like a deflated cushion. His cough was deep, and his face and skin as dark as night. Ting carefully washed his face, speaking softly with words that only he could hear.
He glanced around the room, puzzled.
When his gaze landed on Ting, he smiled weakly and reached out his hand. She burst into tears and threw herself on his chest. The doctor closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her.
Ting pulled away, dabbing her eyes. “We were afraid you had been killed.”
“I might have been if God had not sheltered me.” The doctor attempted to sit up straighter and Father Wang helped him, placing pillows behind his back.
He sat beside the injured man. “Can you tell us what happened?”
The doctor licked his blistered lips. “I arrived before dawn to open the clinic. With so many patients coming in, I don’t have time to study. I wanted to pray and think before my day began. I was sitting at my desk when I heard someone outside.”
“Did you see them?”
“I smelled kerosene. I immediately sensed danger. My office is blocked by an entryway on one side and small consulting rooms in every direction. I had nowhere to hide. I prayed they would leave and that I could escape, but then I saw a man standing in the doorway. He lunged at me. I fought as fiercely as I could, but he struck me on the back of the head and I fell. I pretended to be unconscious.” He smiled wryly. “This was not challenging for I could not think properly. I felt two men shoving me under my desk, and I heard more outside the door.”
Ting reached for his hand. “They meant to kill you with the fire.”
“I had trouble breathing but I prayed.”
“For help,” Father Wang affirmed.
“I asked God to save me. I could see flames licking the roof. I heard tiles melting and exploding around me. I needed a miracle.”
Ting gasped. “And you are alive.”
“When they shoved me under the desk, they meant to trap me, but I believe it is what saved me. The kerosene they poured outside was licked up by the flames quicker than they intended, I’m certain. The last thing I remember is the sound of men shouting, and horse hooves. When the roof collapsed, the shelter of my sturdy desk kept it from falling on me.”
“Who were they? Why would they burn the clinic? Why would they harm you?” Father Wang pelted him with questions.
“I am positive they were from the Society.” Dr. Wong put his face in the crook of his arm and coughed violently.
Sunsoo waited for the coughing spell to pass. She needed to ask him the question, though she dreaded the answer. “How do you know it was the Society?”
“There is only one way to know with certainty, but from their conversation outside my door I surmised they were involved in the rebellion.”
Father Wang stood, pacing back and forward. “I have heard the rumors for years. I thought perhaps it was just stories from disgruntled farmers.”
“Was the door to the clinic burned?”
“Unfortunately, your office is the only thing that remains,” Sunsoo said. “Why do you ask?”
“The Society has become very bold. In the North they are said to leave a message to those whom they plan to kill or intimidate,” Dr. Wong replied.
He wiped his mouth with the cloth Ting handed him and handed it back to her. It was tinged with soot “They mark the door with red handprints. It is their signature.”
Though many Substack subscriptions are pricey, this annual subscription is less than a small cup of coffee per month. A paid subscription offers:
Four to eight complete chapters each month, along with a book club and questions with the author. It also gives you access to the archive, no matter when you join. It includes a code that will allow you to download the Kindle version of each original novel at no cost once we’ve explored it together.
Generous Orchid is the first of a series, and the next book is a stunning revelation of how faithfulness in one generation extends to the next.
