He eyed my awkwardness with amusement for a while, then said, “That makes you even more naïve. OK, now tell me about your past with the nuns.” He put down his fork, then delicately dabbed his lips with the white napkin.

So I did.

After I’d finished, Philip held my hand for a long time before he finally released it. “Meng Ning, let’s go home.”

I was surprised that the place where he pulled up was not Michael’s apartment building. “Philip, but this is not where Michael lives.”

“I know. It’s where I live.”

Although I wanted very much to say I needed to go home, my body involuntarily followed his.

Philip’s apartment looked very different from Michael’s. While Michael’s was decorated with Chinese objects, Philip’s was, like him, glamorous and sumptuous. Richly colored abstract oil paintings and glass bookcases covered the walls. Antiques of various shapes and sizes struck elegant poses in ornate cabinets. The carpet was thick, lush, with Occidental motifs of mystical animals in vermillion, green, and purple.

“Very nice apartment,” I exclaimed. “But I think I really should go home. Michael may call anytime.”

“Meng Ning, would you compassionately grant a lonely chap the pleasure and honor just to have an after-dinner drink with you?”

Feeling completely powerless, I muttered a weak, “Yes, of course.”

After he led me to sit down on his huge ivory leather sofa covered with colorful pillows, he went inside the kitchen and soon returned with a lacquer tray. He put down the tray and handed me a glass. After that, he sat next to me on the sofa, took off his jacket and tie, then started to sip his drink thoughtfully. Although he was not very near to me, instinctively I moved away a bit.

We started to chat about various things-music, films, art, museums, and his practice. I was surprised when he told me that some of his patients were Hollywood stars.

“I’m very tempted to tell you who they are, but I can’t.” He took another sip of his drink and looked at me with eyes soft and tender like blue silk. “But you know what? None of these stars can compete with your beauty.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Philip, but please don’t exaggerate.”

His expression turned serious. “No, not a bit. Their beauty is all skin-deep. I’m the one who fixes their skin so I know. Meng Ning, none of them can compete with your natural beauty, your naturalness, your mystery. It must be because of your Zen study.”

“Oh, Philip, you’re overpraising me.” Now my face must be the same color as his blood-streaked steak!

“With you, I only speak from my heart. I’d never have the heart to lie to this innocent face of yours,” he said, reaching to touch my cheek.

“Philip…” My cheek was hot, and so was his hand.

He murmured, his voice soaked in alcohol, “Meng Ning, I can’t help it; I just can’t. I’m in love with you, helplessly and desperately.”

“But this is only the third time you have seen me.” I tried to act calm, but my heart was beating like a door frantically knocked upon by a debt collector.

“Time is irrelevant,” he said, then pulled me close to him.

“Philip, please don’t…”

“Shhh…be quiet.” In no time, he sealed my lips with his. His hands held my waist tight. Then he pulled my whole body against his, warm like an oven.

I felt his body heat gradually penetrating my clothes, my skin, then trying to grope its way into my heart. His kisses, like the lava of a volcano, melted my lips. I felt my body plunging right into this dark, fiery pit of passion and danger.

Suddenly a sadness hit me so hard that I pushed him away. I started to weep, then sobbed involuntarily. My whole body shook like a tiny boat in a merciless storm.

Finally Philip let go of me. “Meng Ning, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

I shook my head.

“Did I…offend you?”

“I don’t know. Philip, I’m just engaged to Michael and now I feel strongly attracted to you. That’s not right!”

“Love has nothing to do with being right or wrong.” He tilted my chin and his penetrating eyes peered into mine; their expansiveness reminded me of the vast blue sky, the fathomless ocean. His voice was soft and tender like a feather. “Do you love Michael?”

I remained silent, overwhelmed by his mere presence and desire.

“If you don’t, feel free to love me. I’m all yours.” He kissed my hand, then pressed it against his chest. “Feel my heart, Meng Ning. It’s beating for you.”

“Philip, just let me go home.”

He kept staring at me, but didn’t say a word.

“Please, Philip.”

He pulled my face close to his. “Meng Ning, look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me.”

“Sorry, but I…can’t. I’m very confused. I should’ve stayed with Yi Kong and been a nun!”

“No, you’re not going to be a nun,” Philip said, starting to kiss me again.

I had to use sheer willpower to push him and my desire away. “Please, Philip, I really have to go home.”

“All right, if that’s what you really want.” He planted a kiss on my forehead, stood up abruptly, and held his hand out to help me up.

The next day I woke up late with a splitting headache, dry lips, and aching all over my body. Scenes from last night with Philip kept spinning in my head. I tried to listen to music, read, and meditate. But nothing worked. Philip’s hot kisses still seemed to linger on my lips, melting my heart and my body. Was I betraying Michael? Did I make the right choice to be his fiancée, or should I return to Hong Kong to take refuge with Yi Kong? How could I be attracted to another man so quickly? Was I becoming a slut?

The air felt a bit chilly and I rubbed my arms. The Guan Yin pendant that I’d laid down on the sofa now seemed to be smiling at me, whether at my misgivings or ignorance I could not tell. This was the amulet that Yi Kong had dropped down to me in the well seventeen years before. Then the Goddess of Mercy had come toward me in the subterranean darkness, riding on a fish. I had found peace of mind for the first time in her spiritual presence, amidst the stink of rotten vegetation and mildew. Later in Golden Lotus Temple, I had admired the nuns’ kind faces and compassionate deeds…

I felt an impulse to bare my thoughts and pour my soul out to a female. Since the Goddess of Mercy was, after all, but a gold-plated miniature painting, I needed a woman friend to turn to, but I had none here except…

When Lisa opened the door, I felt instantly soothed by the fragrance of wild ginger flower. Her face, framed by the half-closed door with the light flooding at her back, looked soft and inviting. I followed her inside her apartment as if in a trance.

“Make yourself at home, Meng Ning. I’m going to get us something to drink.”

I looked around. The walls were painted white and the floor partly covered by dark green, intricately patterned rugs. The furniture included two bookshelves, a coffee table, and a reddish-brown wooden chest with bronze drawer handles. The feeling of simplicity and cleanliness pleased me. But what caught my attention were the paintings covering the main wall. They were huge, and I could now feel the strong yet disturbing energy emanating from the many circles and lines. Though impressive, somehow the whole effect still didn’t look quite right to me. Was Lisa deliberately striving for confusion?

“Lisa, your paintings are very…powerful,” I said, lowering myself onto the sofa next to a large window.

“Thanks.” She was busy with the refrigerator in the small kitchen, her dress straining at her hips. Then she came to put down on the coffee table a tray with two glasses and handed me one.

“It’s your Coke-with a squirt of rum in it.”

She sat down on the sofa opposite me and crossed her legs. Her toenails, painted a phosphorescent bronze, gave out a few sparks as she flicked her toes. The silver filigreed ankle bracelets twinkled in response.