Destiny Cottage

By Dieter Gartelmann

In 1837 west of Shanghai Baozhai is a gorgeous girl who at age 4 charms everyone to get her way. When promised in marriage at age 14, she refuses to become someone else's property and flees home with enough business skills and guts to take on the world. In 1840 north of Shanghai, Wei is brought up without his mum, bullied when young, and after learning Kung Fu , he overcomes his tormentors. He marries at age 20 but is devastated 3 years later when his wife leaves him for a rich man. He decides he can make his fortune on the Australian goldfields.

These 2 people, both from farming backgrounds, meet by chance and their attraction is instant and powerful. They challenge each other almost daily but overcome everything through their mutual love and respect. In 1856 they face the challenges of a long sea voyage, learning English, an overland trek, staking a claim on the goldfields and finally building "Destiny Cottage". It’s compelling reading as we follow their journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Oct 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781664101104

Dieter Gartelmann

Dieter Gartelmann came to Australia as a 13-year-old with his family and settled in Adelaide, South Australia. Learning English and on a scholarship studied Engineering, married, has four grown up children. After a 45-year IT career he beat covid-19 isolation by writing a romance/adventure novel that built on his experience as a non-English speaking migrant to write about a Chinese couple traveling to the Australian goldfields.

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Copyright © 2020 by Dieter Gartelmann.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020918256

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 02/24/2021

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CONTENTS

Dedication

Foreword

Acknowledgements

Writer’s Notes

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

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17

18

19

20

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34

DEDICATION

This is the true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one. Being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community, and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.― George Bernard Shaw

FOREWORD

This book is fiction. All names of people and places were derived from my Google assistant. That means the story does not use the names of any real persons known to me or in public use. There are a few good heroes in this book, including Aboriginal men who helped the couple avoid disaster, and their names and the names of all white men and women are chosen simply from plausible names.

All dialogue is in today’s Enlish, except for some earlier expressions that were used when I arrived in Australia.

I have documented all the research, but I urge readers to enjoy the story as fiction! and ask me for my research later – via the email in my Writers Note

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

In the order in which assistance was provided.

Firstly, I am totally indebted to my twin brother Jorg Gartelmann, who read the first chapter I proudly sent him. He offered good news and bad news. The good news was that he shouted me the Margret Attwood Creative Writing Masterclass course, and the bad news was; Dieter, it’s not a bestseller, so you need to do this course. It was the start of my learning process. He did know what he was talking about, and I listened. The other good news was that he sent me lots of wine to keep the creative juices flowing.

The next thank you goes to Katarina Herrmann. She provided the first and ongoing moral support I needed. Her special skill was to laugh out loud when she was supposed to, and to exclaim when an emotional passage hit her.

My next great big fat thank you goes to my sister Christel Russel. I could not hear her laugh but she was the first one who said: Send me the next chapter From there she progressed to being my ghost writer. This became essential when I wrote my first love scenes. I had sent a copy to an ex who commented too much sex, get on with the real story and by comparison my sister commented Dieter, hot without getting smutty, send me the next one fast. In the end she was my Clayton’s editor who did not edit but passed comments I could use and made me feel safe to proceed.

Shortly after encouragements from Christel I started looking for publishers, all their genres and then Xlibris. There are many individuals to thank, but the one who got me started was my agent Tony Adams, currently working out of the Philippines office. The thing is Tony got excited. What I needed more than anything was just encouragement. He made sure I did enough research for the story to hold, he sent me pictures of Shanghai in the 1860s, and generally steered me into a more professional approach to the background of the book. And then he sent me homework – links of videos, hundreds of hours. And when I asked more questions, he sent me more homework. Thank you, Tony, I never cursed you for all that work.

My first edit was my copy editor Emman Villaran who did a mammoth job editing a book that had no previous line editing. And I lost a bet with a friend because I had vastly under estimated the number of corrections that would be needed. Thank you Emman.

Many thanks to my production and marketing staff, Cherry Noel and Jodie Grant. I’s easy to forget your contribution as it’s not such a visible product, but just thinking of the time I spend on emails I know how much work you do for me. Thank you.

My penultimate thank you goes to Francesca from Landmark in Melbourne, who answered the call to find a poem I heard in 1987, 33 years ago. I left a voice mail with an imitation of the substance, and unbelievably she researched until she delivered the only dedication I wanted, phoning me to make sure it’s the one I wanted.

This second edition has, hopefully, fixed all spelling and punctuation errors that had crept in to the book by mistake by me, and a decision was made to have a second edit of the book. Like a knight in shining armour, Pamela Howard came to the rescue, the first half done the hard way from the paper copy, then finishing from the files used for the book. I still find it unbelievable how one human being can work with such concentration that he tiniest errors are corrected.

WRITER’S NOTES

Why this book? I had wanted to write a love story for a long time, as I preferred heart-warming stories to novels full of crime, stress and violence. The plot came to me when I visited my sister in Bendigo three years ago. I had visited a gold mine there, and then the Chinese Joss House and Temple. Looking at the exhibits that made me wonder how on earth the Chinese miners managed to get to Bendigo from Melbourne, carrying everything on their backs, and how on earth they managed with the language and writing. There was the story.

I remembered my first days at school as an immigrant in February 1954, as a 14-year-old, with only a few words of English. Someone called me a ‘funny bastard’. With a hearing problem as well, I thought he said ‘funny basket’. When they wanted to know what I thought of Hitler, some street smarts kicked in, and told them I would tell them when I’m older.

I had come to Australia from Germany by boat in late November 1953 and I remember the waves in the Bay of Biscay off the coast of France. Swells so big the crests were literally miles apart, and having sailed a dingy in later years in scary 25 knot winds, this made me wonder about clipper ships sailing through typhoons with 120 knot winds to come to Australia. These personal experiences added to the book – and never a writer’s block in sight.

Shortly after I starting writing I crashed my car, stopped my other studies, the Covid-19 lockdowns started, and I had to walk and catch the bus. My family were worried about my mental health being stuck at home alone without transport. They were surprised to hear I had the time of my life – writing. I loved the editing just as much. I had never imagined I could laugh so many times at my own story. I hope that’s not a sign of looming insanity. I hope you, the readers, have a few laughs too. Mind you, I do want a car and to go out, but in the meantime, I have started on a sequel and have plans for a book on cyber warfare.

Like most people, I had ups and downs and most of my latter years were all going downhill. With no strong friendships from earlier years due to language problems and a hearing loss, I progressed to the top of my career, had a happy marriage, and chased jobs across Australia to return to Adelaide 25 years later with few friends remaining. I got my Mojo back studying, but the real change came when I started writing. It has created a new me, one that I’m very happy with. I am holding that splendid torch through to the end.

I would love to hear from readers. This is my first book, and it’s killing me not knowing how it is received. Contacts:

[e-mail]

and

www.gartelbooks.com

Map%20of%20Shanghai%20Area.jpg

Map of Shanghai area

Map%20of%20Shanghai%20to%20Robe.jpg

Map of Shanghai to Robe

Map%20of%20South%20Eastern%20Australia.jpg

Map of South Eastern Australia

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1

FEBRUARY 1837

Li Baozhai (precious hairpin) grew up in Malu, west of Shanghai. She was a gorgeous baby; her mother Li Na (elegant) wanted a girl; her father Li Qiang (elegant) wanted a boy. There was no surprise there. By age three months Mother Li commented to her friends how clever this little bundle was, ‘She loves making me smile, by smiling and grinning at me, and she knows she can do so any time she wants. And because it feels lovely when I smile, she does it all the time, sometimes stopping to make me work for it, already exercising her control over her life.’

By age four Baozhai had mastered the art of captivating others, the art of making people love her and give her anything she wanted.

Her mum had a business, cooking for the village, and the ladies came to get food and chat. They would hug Baozhai and play with her like peek-a-boo games and anything to make her laugh.

Baozhai would hide behind her mum and giggle. ‘You can’t see me,’ she’d say, and the ladies would come from behind her and scoop her up for a hug saying, ‘You can’t see me now unless you turn around.’ And Baozhai would screech with laughter. And they adored her.

Easy, it was secret of course, but oh, so visible. Firstly she was absolutely gorgeous, swinging pigtails, big brown eyes, and a smile that was in danger of going from one ear to the other, and after her mother warned her that her smile would capture the world, she got smart and practised in front of the mirror until she was captivated by her own smile. Thanks, Mum, she thought.

Baozhai spent most of her time with her mum and the village ladies who used to visit to pick up her mum’s cooking. She loved the smell of the cooking, from garlic to basil and thyme. She loved licking the spoon even more. She said, ‘Mum, you need to pay me to lick the spoon because I’m making sure it tastes good,’ and after a while, she had a pile of coins.

1844

When Baozhai was seven, her mother had another baby, a boy that her father doted on, and her mum compensated for that by spending more time with Baozhai. When the next boy was born two years later, Mum was getting very busy and Baozhai took over the cooking as well as the shopping at the market. Baozhai was nine years old now and had a cart with four wheels to take to the market to carry produce back home. The wheels squealed, and the stall owners could hear her coming and passed the word along, ‘Baozhai is coming.’ The first one she paused at said to Baozhai, ‘You look older and taller today, but where is your smile?’ and Baozhai replied, ‘Right here’ and let loose with a smile to dazzle the world. And the stall owner gave her a mandarin. ‘And one for the way home so you can pull that heavy cart.’ And Baozhai said, ‘Only if I can have a hug,’ which was what the lady wanted in the first place. They loved hugging her little wriggling body and her squeals of delight.

By age nine she had practised her irresistible ways by smiling outrageously and often got cheaper prices or even some freebies at the market, especially when she told people her mum was sick. Clever girl, this one was. By age ten she was experimenting with some new herbs and spices that the people at the market had suggested. Her mum’s main herbs and spices had been ginger, garlic, and some chilli. Baozhai bought some cinnamon (cassia). She sometimes added it to meat stews, but mostly she used it to flavour desserts, pastries, and drinks and bought marjoram, oregano, curry powder, and spring onions to add to her stir-fries with sesame oils to make bones grow stronger.

Baozhai’s cart squeals also alerted the small beggar urchins waiting for her. She loved those small children, and they loved her back with wild abandon, meaning there was lots of hugging, squealing in delight, holding hands, and their pixie faces shone with love and delight. When she had finished her shopping, she often had money left over because of so many freebies and there was always excitement when she told the kids, ‘Close your eyes, and hold out your hand, no peeping’ and put money in the hand, closed their fists firmly, and asked them, ‘Guess how much I gave you?’ And of course, both sides played a good game, the urchins saying, ‘Half a yuan at least’ while opening their hands to find between one and two yuan. And so without ever raising the expectation of more money, they played the big surprise game. Everyone was happy.

As she grew up, she often led smaller children to school. She loved those little kids, boys and girls and liked holding their hands. When there were too many for her hands to hold, she told them, ‘I will hold your hand halfway, then it’s someone else’s turn.’ And she loved the looks on their glorious faces, such adoration. Sometimes older boys her own age wanted to hold her hand, and she got a laugh out of that when she declined and saw their glum faces. Boys.

Sometimes she made moon cakes and wrapped them in paper with a message inside like ‘If you are generous today, you will be rewarded tomorrow.’ She got the idea from her grandfather who used to tell her about Confucius’s sayings. One day she gave some to the street urchins. and they loved the sayings, so she and her friends played around with good sayings and totally idiotic ones. Of course, the kids liked the idiotic ones best like one that said, ‘Poo in bed and smell in the morning,’ a favourite with many small children. But the ones with the Confucius sayings, she called them her fortune cakes.

MAY 1851

And wouldn’t you believe it she became a superb cook and a businesswoman before the age of fourteen? And she had one other skill. She had learned early on to look for the meaning of what she observed, what caused it. She did not know it then, but she learned the concepts behind everyday events, and that made it much easier for her to understand difficult concepts. She was one smart little cookie.

When she was fourteen, she became a woman, and her mother explained a few facts of life, and then her father told her he would find her a husband.

‘Oh no, not yet,’ she pleaded. When her father was gone, she complained to her mum and told her that she did not want to get married till she was twenty-one and that if her father arranged for her to marry, she would run away. Her mum told her she would stash away some extra money for her but asked her to let her know where she was and what she was doing if she did run away.

Mother Li then told her own story of her growing up. ‘I was fourteen when my father arranged a marriage. I did not see the man till the wedding ceremony, but I was determined to run away if I did not like him. Like you, I still wanted to be a girl and was a competent cook and had saved money. When the ceremony started, I screamed when I saw him and said that I needed to go to the toilet which was out the back next to the horse paddock. I ran to the toilet where I had hidden a bag for the escape, hopped over the fence, hopped on the horse, and galloped away. I met your father much later.’

Baozhai was astounded. ‘You never told me this. Why not?’ she asked and her mum told her that she had only intended to tell her when necessary.

Later that week Baozhai went to the market to buy veggies and saw a soldier on a horse viciously whip a lovely young man who had stolen an apple. She was sick and horrified and looked at the face of the soldier with loathing, hatred, and revulsion. She did not know then, but this event and her following actions would define her actions and morals for the rest of her life.

Two months later her father told her he had selected a husband for her, a man who could protect her. He thought she would be pleased. He thought it was his job to marry her off to protect her reputation as she was beginning to be quite womanly.

She screamed instead, ‘No, no, not till I’m a lot older, and maybe even then, no.’ He then told her the future husband was a soldier, easily able to defend her and would arrive in an hour. She felt numb with shock and waited in her room. When she was called into the parlour, she nearly fainted. It was that very same vicious soldier. She ran to her room, locked the door, packed a small bag, collected her money, and escaped through her bedroom window. She was angry and devastated at the betrayal of all the love she had given her father. She had become her own person in a single day.

Three houses further along, her friend Wang Yong (brave) lived, but she could not talk to him, or they would find her. Wang Yong had a horse, a little mare she had ridden many times. Her name was Min (quick). Totally fit for purpose, Baozhai thought as she muzzled the mare’s soft lower lip, gave it a kiss, hopped on, and gently rode her out of the yard, thinking she would like to gallop away, but she did not want to draw attention. There was nothing to see here, right? Was Baozhai angry? Yes and no. Was she worried? Yes. She worried about her mum. But she knew her mum well. Her mum would add to the chaos, screaming, ‘I want my girl’ just so that no one would think she had anything to do with her disappearance. And she had mentioned to her mum she would run away, and her mum had stashed away a fair bit of money for her, so she need not worry about that. But she was mostly relieved that she got away, and an hour later she dismounted, patted Min as a thank-you, tied her to a tree, well out of sight, sat in a ditch with long grass, and promptly fell asleep in the afternoon sun.

Later Baozhai heard a galloping horse, lifted her head to see who was coming. She kept her head low as that soldier thundered past and noticed he had dropped something out of his saddlebag. It looked like a money bag.

Well, she was fast growing up, and she knew that it was her money now, and more importantly, she wanted to punish the brute. It was all for an apple. Judge, jury, and executioner he’d been, in one hit, now it was payback, revenge.

She walked to where she thought the bag had dropped, ears open for a possible returning horse, grabbed the bag, ran back to hide in the ditch, and opened the bag. There was a note in it to her father.

Dear Mr Li,

Thank you for arranging a wife for me. I hope she is obedient or I will have to discipline her, and I will have to return her to you without the dowry of course. I will keep her safe and make sure she is disciplined as I am sure that is how you brought her up.

Yours sincerely,

Liu Wei

Lieutenant, Shanghai Mounted Horse Division One

Baozhai was shocked her father had agreed to such a dreadful man. Had her father actually read the note? A burning resolve was formed. She would take the money. She made an oath to herself. She would never, ever belong to a man. She was not someone else’s property. She would not get married. Never, then changed that as she wanted to have a daughter. She would not get married until she was 21. She would wait till she knew she could judge a man’s character. In the meantime, she was aware she would need male protection. Yes, she would find a man who would protect her and wait till she was ready. And she would stay with that one man only and promise to be his wife when she was ready. Only later, when she was more experienced, did she find out how much easier that was said than done.

She headed to Nantong about 130 km away, still on the Yangtze River that could take her anywhere. But first, she must count the money. Of all that is holy, her father had paid the brute 19,000 yuan, just to get rid of her. But after reflection, he probably loved her and it was the stupid dowry and arranged marriage system that was to blame.

She walked to the nearest village. She found a boarding house for ladies, took a room, sent the horse home with a note in his bridle to ‘return to Wang Yong in Malu,’ went to get food from a street stall, and ate it on a park bench.

She was not afraid to be alone. If a man came, she would say, ‘Not interested,’ and if he became aggressive, she would whip out her long vegetable knife and flash it and say quietly, ‘I know how to cut.’ After all, she had had training before her mother had allowed her to go to market alone, and she had loved the feeling of having her own power. But she was not bothered by anyone and spent the time quietly to make plans.

In the morning she enquired about transport to the river. She was told, ‘Sorry but the only coach for the day has left an hour earlier.’ She decided to buy a horse to ride to the big river, where it would be sold, and she would find a boat to travel to Nantong. She would dress demurely, and when she got to Nantong, she would then find a protector, a man who would not own her.

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2

MAY 1840

TAIZHOU, NORTH OF SHANGHAI

When Wang Wei (great) was nine, he was beaten up at school one day. He did not cry, but he had to wipe away tears that were threatening to come out. Had to, boys didn’t cry. Well, not if they can help it and he could. He went to his father who was working in the field. His father was pleased to see him but noticed his hidden tears. He knew he had to help his son become strong now to stop such threats in the future. He asked him, ‘Do you think bullies would pick on a big strong boy?’ And Wei said, ‘That’s a leading question, Dad, so why not tell me how to become big and strong?’ Father cackled at his cheeky son.

‘I will teach you kung fu to defend yourself. It’s our own martial arts, and I will let you work on the farm and get big and strong, and even better, I will pay you some money so you can buy some sweets for little girls.’ said father Wang Aiguo. ‘I will teach you how that famous ancient warrior Sun Tzu taught his soldiers and officers. If you study history later on you will come across his sayings. Just to test you first, how strong is a bully?’

Wei thinks, then said ‘They are bullies, many on one, big on small. They never take on anyone bigger or stronger.’

‘Well done my son, you are thinking like Sun Tzu already. I will give you a book later on. I studied him when we prepared to fight slave pirates. But apart from teaching you Kung Fu and helping you become big and strong, I need to teach you when to fight. These are some of Sun Tzu’s sayings that I want you to remember always:

• A leader leads by example, not by force.

• You have to believe in yourself.

• Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.

• If your enemy is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If he is in superior strength, evade him. If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant.

• Engage people with what they expect.

‘I will write this down and we review it every day we train for Kung Fu. And another thing I have noticed. It is sometimes easy to judge your opponent. Some men exude a sense of strong masculinity without being arrogant. They are more dangerous than the arrogant ones, who really just hide their weakness with arrogance. And when you have learned to do that, guess what happens?’ said father Aiguo, and Wei wants to know, and his father added. ‘Ladies seek a strong male partner. In the wild the strong win. And the same happens in our only slightly more civilised world. Good looks help, but women flock to a man who exudes a quiet strength.’ Wei told him ‘Dad, I don’t even know if I want a woman when I grow up’ and father Aquino told him, ‘Wei, it’s good to hear that now, but we should have a bet that you will change your mind when you are sixteen.’

Wei wanted to know how his father knew all this and he replied ‘Secret, if I tell you then you will not learn. When you apply he lessons and see the result then you will remember for ever.’

1849

Well, just as surely as putting one foot in front of another gets you somewhere (even if you don’t know where) he started learning kung fu, became strong, beat up the bullies, bought sweets for the girls, and thoroughly enjoyed hard work and saw muscles building. And six months later he started growing too. He became moderately good at kung fu, and after another six months the bullies that beat him the first time blocked his way. He told them, ‘Just piss off before you get hurt.’

Being bullies and three of them, and stupid to boot, he said, ‘You are sissies if you need three to take me on,’ and as they did not want to be sissies, they came to him one at a time. Wei waited for number one to take a swing at him, sidestepped, and pushed him on the way past whilst hooking his legs to topple him. Down he went and out; he had hit his head on the hard road. ‘Too bad,’ said Wei. ‘Who is next?’ but they trundled off, leaving their supposed friend lying on the road.

Some girls came past and asked with big round eyes, ‘Did you do that?’ and his laconic response was ‘Unfortunately’ and he took them to a shop and bought lollies all round.

And the experience spurred him on. Eat well, grow big, grow muscles and he laughed a lot with his friends. He was over six feet tall, strong, and very definitely a man. And he knew about girls, had many a smile thrown his way, the occasional kiss, and he wanted to experience more.

When he was twenty years old, he told his father there was a girl.

‘What about her?’ his father wanted to know.

‘Well, I want her in my bed and do nice things with her,’ Wei replied, and his father was not impressed but understood.

Father asked him, ‘Do you know what she wants?’ And of course, Wei knew. She had told him she loved him and wanted him in her bed but only if he married her. Long story short, he married her, made her happy, she made him ecstatic. It was simple, right?

Wei had been married to Wang Li (beautiful) happily for three years until, yes, until that day when she screamed at him. ‘I’m leaving you. I’m sick and tired of being poor,’ she shouted.

‘So how does leaving me change that?’ he screamed back in atrocious pain. Then more pain was added when she said, ‘A rich man is picking her up at noon. And if you’re thinking of killing me, I have already advised the police that you might just do that.’

Wei went to his room, locked the door, and with ice-cold fury, planned his revenge. Or better for now, he thought of how to get rid of the pain he was experiencing. Number one—wipe her from his heart, rip out any remnants of love, affection, or desire. It was not as easy as he had hoped, but he started to feel better. He was a simple man, who had laboured most of his life, and he was not used to deceiving himself. And he knew that he now wanted to be rich, fabulously rich. And he would be. And that was not going to happen labouring where he was. Wei collected all the money that his wife had thought she had hidden from him in the kitchen in drawers and tins. Once when he was looking for something, he had found hidden money then looked everywhere so he knew where it all was and took the lot.

He packed a small backpack with some clothes and food and walked out with just one thought, You don’t deserve me, and I will find a new woman, a beautiful woman whose exterior was defined by her inner beauty, not by artifice, a pure soul to whom I can dedicate my life. He walked with purpose, quite amazed at the energy he felt at the thought of a new life. This feeling lasted till he walked past a tavern, walked back and into its dimly lit interior.

The barman had one look at Wei and got him some rice wine and said, ‘It can’t be that bad, drink up.’

Wei knew about sorrow and the need to grieve. Revenge and a new life would have to wait until this was done. Into the den of hard liquor and he decided that too much pain needed too much alcohol, followed by too much headache, followed by resolve never to do that again. Enjoy now pay later,’. Gladly pay later. At least for now.

He did everything