by Robert Wang
Higgins blinked. “Did you say the navy is coming, sir?”
“I did indeed. The yellow buggers don’t know who they’re dealing with, but they’ll soon find out.”
“Do you think that we would be in a better position to negotiate for Lord Lee’s release after the ships arrive, sir?”
Elliot thought briefly. “Couldn’t say. You and the lady are welcome to stay here with us, but I expect you’ll be safer on your ship.”
“Probably correct, sir, but Miss Lee insists on remaining in Canton until she can see her father.”
The chief superintendent harrumphed. “Have it your own way, but neither I nor the Crown can guarantee your safety. Directly we finish our business here, every British citizen will be departing, and you will be coming with us, unless your captain requires you sooner. The lady may, of course, do as she wishes.” Elliot bowed curtly in Su-Mei’s direction.
“Yes, sir, understood, sir!” Higgins said.
Su-Mei had understood most of their conversation. She returned the chief superintendent’s bow and added, “Tank you, sir. I stay factaly, wait for help for famalee.”
“You are a guest of Her Majesty on these premises,” Elliot replied. “And may I compliment you on your English skills, miss?” He lifted his hat briefly and took his leave.
Su-Mei felt a glimmer of hope for the first time since she’d heard the news of her father’s arrest. She whispered a quick prayer of thanks and followed Higgins upstairs.
A long balcony overlooked the square where Chinese soldiers stood guard. The upper floor of the factory consisted of handsomely decorated sitting rooms, bedrooms, and offices, most of them empty. Higgins showed Su-Mei to a comfortable bedroom and claimed another across the hall for his own. But near midnight, Su-Mei crept silently into his room, much to Higgins’s delight. She left before daybreak, with no one the wiser.
A few hours after breakfast, they were startled by a loud gong sounding from the square. Elliot, Higgins, and Sui-Mei, along with the soldiers, rushed to the balcony to see what was happening. Chinese soldiers were marching into the square, followed by guards dragging a prisoner. He wore a wooden shield that covered his upper body; his head poked through one hole, and his hands appeared through two more holes near his waist. In the middle of the wooden shield was pasted a strip of paper with Chinese characters that read “Evil Opium Den Owner.”
The prisoner was Chu Ting, and he looked dazed and frightened. He had just witnessed the castration of his two sons, and now he stood in the square in chains. The soldiers set up a pole and attached to it a length of rope tied to a short piece of wood at each end. A crowd was forming, and within minutes, the square was full of spectators.
A soldier stepped forward and read from a scroll. “By order of Special Emissary Lin Tse-Hsu, representing our Celestial Emperor, this evil owner of ten opium dens is hereby condemned to death. Let this be a warning that our beloved emperor will no longer tolerate the existence of opium or the wicked men who smuggle it into our Celestial Kingdom and sell it to our citizens.”
Elliot, Higgins, Su-Mei, and the handful of men looked on in horror as soldiers tied Chu Ting to the pole. The executioner walked around him, wrapped the rope around his neck, tightened it, and began twisting the piece of wood. Chu Ting tried to scream but couldn’t. His face turned bright red, and the whites of his eyes filled with blood. The whole square went silent as Chu Ting fought for his last breath, his face contorted in agony.
Su-Mei covered her eyes in horror, and the British soldiers grimaced at the cruelty of it. But most of the crowd erupted in cheers as they dragged Chu Ting’s body off, although many were quietly panicking, not knowing where they would get their next fix. Soldiers were cracking down on everything related to opium; even the pipe makers were being arrested.
But the spectacle wasn’t over. The gongs started up again, and the crowd turned expectantly to see who was being dragged in next. Su-Mei looked along with them, and her blood turned to ice. Her father, her mother, her concubine mothers, and their daughters and son were being dragged out of a horse-drawn cage and positioned in the center of the square.
“Good God, man, those are young children!” Elliot choked. “They can’t mean to execute children!”
The same soldier read a second announcement. “By order of Special Emissary Lin Tse-Hsu, representing our Celestial Emperor, the wicked and corrupt Lee Shao Lin, the biggest opium dealer in Canton, and his family are hereby condemned to death by beheading. They suffer this most severe punishment because they all have enjoyed lives of luxury and excess from the profits made on the wicked opium that has killed so many of our people. The souls of a thousand victims of Lee Shao Lin cry out for justice. We hope the death of his entire family will soothe their suffering.” Higgins didn’t have to understand any Chinese at all to know what was going on. He put his hands on Su-Mei’s shoulders and turned her face into his chest just as she began to scream.
An executioner took his place behind each of the condemned prisoners as another soldier banged a gong. The crowd cheered again, this time even louder than when Chu Ting met his end. Lee Shao Lin’s arrest and the knowledge that he had been the biggest opium dealer in all of China, had been shocking news to everyone not involved in the smuggling business, and there was little sympathy among the people of Canton for him or for his family. Su-Mei struggled violently to break free of Higgins’s hold, but he was strong and held her tightly. She managed to turn her head just enough to glimpse the executioners waving their brutally sharp blades through the air. The heads fell silently from the necks of Lee Shao Lin, Mei Li, the two concubines, and their children, aged five, seven, thirteen, and sixteen. Su-Mei crumpled in a dead faint in Higgins’s arms.
The announcement pasted at her family estate that had given Su-Mei hope had not mentioned that Special Emissary Lin had moved the execution date to send a clear message to Chief Superintendent Elliot before he left the factories. He had decided it wasn’t worth waiting to find the missing son and daughter of Lee Shao Lin if the chief superintendent missed the execution of the worst opium offender. He was confident the execution would strike fear into the hearts of the foreign smugglers: If the Chinese were willing to take such drastic measures against their own, how much more harshly would they treat the foreign criminals?
Chief Superintendent Elliot was angered and disgusted by the spectacle and more determined than ever to stay in Canton to show the resolve of the British. The factory compound flew the Union Jack, and any move China dared to make would constitute an act of war against Great Britain. A letter to Parliament would bring down an official declaration and the might of the Royal Navy. Your move, Special Emissary Lin, he thought grimly. All the same, Elliot wrote a quick message to Captain Robertson ordering him to send his wife and son to Singapore so they would be out of harm’s way in the event things turned violent. He paid a willing coolie handsomely to take it to the Scaleby Castle on the fastest chop boat he could find.
Elliot had received a letter from the foreign secretary, Lord Palmerston, one month before the opium was confiscated informing him that, in response to reports indicating a potential conflict, military support was an option being considered to protect British interests in China. Not wanting to disrupt the trading season—because the British needed their tea and trinkets—he kept the letter to himself, content in the knowledge that he and Palmerston were thinking along the same lines. But now that Lin had poured kerosene on the fire, Elliot was ready to fan the flames.
In a letter to the prime minister following the executions, Elliot indicated that British subjects in Canton were under threat of “rapine and massacre.” India’s Chamber of Commerce sent its own letters, fearing an interruption in opium sales. England had just resolved an international crisis involving Afghanistan, Egypt, Iran, and Syria; the Crown wanted to curb the influence of other foreign powers, namely, France and Russia, in that region. As a result, China was not at the forefront of most politicians’ minds.
; Elliot wanted Parliament to stop flexing British might in the Middle East and instead turn its attention to the China trade. To ensure that his letters urging the use of force to restore trade arrived in a timely manner, Elliot sent them by opium clippers, which were so much faster than other ships.
Months earlier, the opium traders had put together a lobby in London to sway the opinions of powerful politicians in support of their business. The lobbyists wrote newspaper articles to portray the trade as a legitimate business, even though it was now common knowledge in England that opium was banned in China, and persuade readers that the drug was in fact beneficial and not harmful. James Matheson wrote that in the twenty-one years he’d worked in China, he had never seen a Chinese “in the least bestialized” by smoking opium. He emphasized that opium “simply did for the upper levels of Chinese society what brandy and champagne did for the same level in England,” knowing very well that opium was enjoyed by the upper classes but most of the addicts whose lives were destroyed by the drug were common people.
Meanwhile, Elliot was feverishly writing more letters, hoping they would reach London quickly. He had to pay dearly to have them smuggled out of Canton to a British ship anchored off Macau. He planned to stay at the factories until it was absolutely necessary to leave for his own safety.
Su-Mei, inconsolable, had not eaten or spoken more than a few words in two days. “You must eat something, my dear,” Higgins pleaded. “There’s nothing you can do for your family now, so you must care for yourself.”
She shook her head. “No. No eat.” The expression in her eyes alarmed him. Rage and hatred had changed her nature, made her hard and closed off.
“My darling, I am here for you. I will cherish and protect you, and we will come through this together. I am your family now—and forever.”
Su-Mei had thought she needed Higgins before her family was killed; she realized now with great pain what that really meant. He was the only person in the world she could count on. She nodded in response, and the streams of tears began to flow again. Higgins put his arms around her and held her tightly. For the first time, her sadness began to overtake hatred, and she was sure Higgins’s presence and compassion were responsible.
“Wait!” Su-Mei’s eyes opened wide. “Da Ping not kiu! Must be live, no dead!”
“Da Ping?” Higgins asked, surprised.
“Di Di. Budder. Soja no find him.” Hope flickered briefly in her eyes, overtaking the despair. Energy flooded her body.
“You never told me you had a brother, my dear! Where is he?”
“Not know,” said Su-Mei. “He live wit Fada. Not know why he not dead.”
“We must find him,” said Higgins decisively. “You came here to save your family, and we can still do that.” He held her tighter. “Where should we start looking? Do you know any of his friends?”
Su-Mei shook her head. “Fada no like him spend time wit me. Da Ping Number One Son, so famalee bizziness for him.” It hit her like a weight how little she knew of her brother’s life since their father had decided to separate them. It had been so easy to let him slip away.
“Tomorrow,” said Higgins decisively, “we will sneak out and try to find some of his acquaintances. Someone must know his whereabouts and be hiding him.”
“You go wit me?” Su-Mei asked hopefully.
“Of course I will, my love. I’m not letting you venture out alone. It isn’t safe.”
Su-Mei offered the ghost of a smile and leaned forward to kiss him. Surprised, he returned the kiss.
Su-Mei had come close to losing all hope. When Higgins’s declaration lifted the veil of grief the slightest bit, she remembered that she wasn’t completely alone in the world. Da Ping was probably still alive, and Higgins was willing to help her find him. She felt energy and life seeping back into her body, along with an even stronger feeling of love for this foreigner, Travers Higgins.
“I love you, Tava!” she said softly.
“I love you too, my dearest,” Higgins replied. “Soon you will be Mrs. Travers Higgins, and you must get used to saying that.” He smiled, hoping his future wife would learn to pronounce his name soon.
Su-Mei looked confused. “My name your name?”
Higgins nodded. “In my country married women take the name of their husband. Give it a go, my love.”
“Mizes Tavez Heegan.” She nodded to herself. “I Mizes Tavez Heegan. You Meesta Tavez Heegan.”
“Close enough for now.” He kissed her, thrilled to see Su-Mei begin to talk and smile again. He knew that the hope of finding her brother had caused the change, and he was determined to do whatever it took to get her back to normal.
Against Chief Superintendent Elliot’s strongly worded admonitions, Higgins and Su-Mei sneaked out of the factory compound after dark and walked back to Su-Mei’s home. Higgins was again dressed in his Chinese clothes and false queue, and Su-Mei wore the poor clothes of a servant, thanks to Pai Chu. The moment they returned to the servants’ quarters, the memories of their time in that house overtook them like a draft of maotai, and they tore each other’s clothes away and fell onto the straw pallet together. As they each grew more accustomed to the other’s body and the act of lovemaking, they found their passion—and their pleasure—increasing. After two days of darkness and fury, the physical and emotional release brought Su-Mei to tears, and Higgins held her shaking body in his arms until she fell asleep. In the morning she felt washed clean, still raw but ready to face the next challenge in her path with the man she loved at her side.
From the day she had to fight off the herbalist who tried to break the bones of her feet to make her more attractive to the day her father threatened to marry her off to a stranger, Su-Mei had never been infused with national pride or felt particularly proud of her heritage. Quite simply, she was Chinese, and that was all she had ever known until she set foot in Macau. This was further compounded by discovering that, as a woman, no matter how wealthy, all her decisions would be in the hands of a man: first, her father, and then whatever man he chose to be her husband. Meeting a kind and loving man from the West and witnessing the execution of her family for the crimes of one man who had been committing them for decades more or less extinguished any lingering attachments she might have had to her culture. She had never been treated more respectfully than by total strangers she had been raised to call foreign devils and barbarians. These foreigners were proving to be a people of conviction and principles, as well as mercy.
They are selling opium to us, and that’s very bad, she thought as she washed and dressed herself the following morning. But Father sold opium, and so many corrupt guans took bribes to allow it to happen, and the people who bought Father’s opium and sold it to addicts were Chinese too. So who is the biggest criminal? She had no answers; she only knew she was safe with one of those barbarians, wanted for execution by her own people, and felt like a stranger in both worlds. At that moment she would have happily left China forever and gone to England with Travers Higgins, if not for the possibility of saving Da Ping.
God works in mysterious ways, she reminded herself. I pray he will lead me to my brother and away from all this bloodshed.
Chapter Seventeen
“So where do we begin?” asked Higgins when she had finished dressing.
“Go again Fada shop. Maybe see something.” She remembered the secret panel in the floor. “Get silva.”
“Yes,” agreed Higgins. “Good idea. We may need it for bribes.”
They reached the shop without mishap in their disguises. Higgins was worried that the authorities might have occupied the shop now that Lee Shao Lin was dead, but it remained empty and was now unguarded. As they walked past the small garden outside her father’s private office, they heard a noise behind the bamboo. Higgins unsheathed his knife and motioned for Su-Mei to get behind him. A man in torn, dirty clothing leaped up and tried to limp away. Higgins caught him easily and pinned him to the ground.
“Please! Don’t kill me!” the man sa
id, shaking with fear.
“Who are you?” asked Su-Mei.
“My name is Chu Sing. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
“This was my father’s office,” said Su-Mei, a touch of acid creeping into her voice. “I should be asking you.”
“Oh, you must be Da Ping’s sister.”
“I am,” she replied eagerly. “How do you know my brother, and where is he?” She didn’t trust this man, but he might have useful information.
“I am your brother’s best friend! I’ve been here with him many times, but I don’t know where he is.” The man looked from Su-Mei to Higgins, who still held him down. “Can I get up now? Who is this foreign devil?”
“The foreign devil is my future husband,” Su-Mei snapped. She translated Chu Sing’s words for Higgins, who was relieved that he wasn’t a thief who might turn in Su-Mei for a reward.
“So what are you doing here now, Chu Sing?” Su-Mei asked.
“I was hungry, and I thought I would find some money here.” Chu Sing’s hands were shaking, and his nose was running. “Did you just say this foreign devil is your future husband?”
“He needs opium, my dear,” said Higgins. “He’s an addict. And he’s covered in blood.”
Looking closer, Su-Mei noticed bloodstains on Chu Sing’s trousers. “Are you injured?”
Chu Sing’s face contorted. “They castrated me in front of my father, and then they dragged him away and killed him.” He began to sob uncontrollably, curled into a fetal position.
Su-Mei shuddered, adding this to the mounting pile of reasons why she should join the world of the foreign devil barbarians. She explained to Higgins, and together they helped Chu Sing off the ground and into the store’s sitting room. Su-Mei had a paper of roasted peanuts she’d saved from their breakfast, and she gave it to Chu Sing, who ate them automatically, tears still running down his face.