All the Flowers in Shanghai

by Duncan Jepson

  I will tell you now about your great-great-grandfather Sang. About forty years before this, he came from Hebei Province and started a business selling goods from Shanghai port and taking them into the interior provinces and cities. People in the center of China loved to own exotic things from the West as well as India, Malaya, and Java. He built a big business, bought ships and offices, then constructed a palatial home for all the members of his family. Having worked hard and suffered much, he constructed the huge Sang house to keep his family safe from all the difficulties he had endured. Now the same building that had offered them security kept his progeny isolated from the rest of the suffering world.

  I did not want the security of this house; it was not built for me. I wanted to leave there and then, change back into my simple clothes, and run outside. I wanted to find Bi and ask him to hold my hand. I wanted to watch him catch fish and tell him the names of all the flowers, as Grandfather had taught me.

  Sleeping in my new bed, I realized that my old one at home had been that of a child whereas this was meant for an adult woman. I felt lost lying in it. It was too big for one person, made from rose and walnut wood with little scallop-shaped patterns in the grain. My new family had given me silks, gold, jewelry, and other wonderful things; so many things I had never thought about before. Ma would have appreciated them so much more than I, but they were nothing compared to the achievement of the most important aim in her life, the thing that best defined her as a wife and mother. There was nothing here I wanted, but I knew that by acquiring it all for myself I had been a good daughter to her, the best, and that was all that ever actually mattered. Our family had kept face and, by association, gained position.

  Yan broke the silence.

  “Tomorrow is the final ceremony. After this you will be part of the Sang family. From tomorrow your husband may decide to spend the night with you in your room.”

  She could see I did not understand the implication, so she came closer to me and sat down on a stool next to the bed. I was still young but felt humiliated by my ignorance; that a maid knew something I did not. In my embarrassment and confusion I snapped: “It is not correct for a servant to sit so close. You should not do this.”

  Yan did not appear shocked by my reaction, but stayed where she was. Tears started to roll down my cheeks. Still she remained seated.

  “You must leave, it is not right that you speak to me like this. Do not do it again,” I said petulantly.

  She did not move but another maid knocked at the door and entered.

  “Can I do anything for you, mistress?”

  “No,” I said, more calmly. “Everything is fine. I have just woken up from bad dreams. I was startled, that is all.”

  Yan waited patiently for me to stop crying before she left me for the night. I lay there alone at last, scared of all the things I did not know and fearful of all the unknown things that could yet happen to me.

  Yan woke me early to dress for the final day. We took it slowly and she was gentle with me. Once she had bathed me she started to brush my hair, talking to me in a soft voice as if reading a bedtime story to a child.

  “My husband was an Imperial guard. He was not very senior and was stationed in a port in the north. You will not remember but the country was at war with itself then and many people challenged the Emperor. There were warlords, bandits, and foreigners everywhere, all threatening his rule. In the beginning we lived in the barracks but then when my husband was promoted we moved to a small house in the countryside where we had a small farm.

  “He was a quiet man and though his life was one of fighting and war, when we were together it was always very peaceful. He never mentioned his job, the things he saw and did. We would just work together, planting, harvesting, and looking after our house. When he came home we rarely left each other’s side. I loved him very much. Then, after eleven years of marriage, he was killed by a gang of bandits who were trying to steal a shipment of foreign goods he was guarding.

  “With so much horror in his life, I always felt that our life together was threatened, that it would suddenly come to an end one day. I didn’t think it would last as long as it did. We weren’t lucky like your parents, we never had children to look after us. There wasn’t much after he was gone and I couldn’t keep the farm on my own, so I stopped and came to Shanghai.” She paused here and sighed. “I wanted to work for people who still had a future and a life before them. Now I look after you. Maybe my luck has changed.” I looked up at her reflection in the mirror and saw her smiling at me; then she continued brushing my hair.

  “Do you think I’ll love my husband like you loved yours?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

  “I don’t know. He’s not a bad man, but he’s the son of his parents. You must do what he says, but always keep a place for yourself.”

  I thought hard for a while and realized what she meant.

  “I think I once had such a place.”

  “You must try to keep it, even if it is only in your imagination and your dreams.”

  She finished brushing and went to collect my dress. It was the only one hanging in my wardrobe as yet. I sat in my du dou, looking at myself in the mirror again. Yan had combed my waist-length hair and put it up. I still had not become used to looking at myself like this; was not accustomed to seeing my semi-naked body, my bare skin, the shape of my neck, my red lips made up in the Qing style and the makeup on my cheeks. I felt cold and did not recognize myself. I looked like an adult. I looked like a wife.

  In the hall again, we knelt down to serve tea to my new family once more. Again, we were given many different and expensive gifts. My father-in-law demanded that ceremonies were performed repeatedly and exactly. Customs must be observed correctly, he believed, because they then brought people luck, and luck brought wealth and long life. He was the guardian of his family’s history and future, and my father-in-law would do all that was required to avoid any damage to that legacy. Ma had told me before the wedding that I was only able to marry into such a family because Sister before me had followed every rule, every point of etiquette, correctly and meticulously. Nothing she did could ever have been questioned or left open to interpretation. It had all been perfect.

  This time Ma and Ba stood in the background while my new family made the toasts. Ma smiled and talked to everyone, whether they greeted her or not. It was the beginning of her new life in Society by association. From now on, she would rise in her own social circle by telling people into which family her daughter had married. If they heard nothing else, she would make sure they heard the family name. But she would never be welcomed here.

  For Ba it marked an ending rather than a beginning. We would see each other only once and after that I would hear little news of him. I was told he spent most of his time with Grandfather, continuing to work as an architect with a building company as the loans he had taken out over the years needed repaying. He had helped Ma achieve her grand aim and with that satisfied, his life was quiet.

  Like many people who feel that the world is inherently good, Ba did not worry about the future but believed that matters would resolve themselves for the best. He had originally married Ma believing that she would live with him in the unambitious yet comfortable way that he enjoyed. He did not wish to be continually tested, to have demands made on him. He was too tired. As Grandfather had loved the botanical world so Ba had loved the urban life with its constant distractions of dances and tea parties, banquets and drinks after work. But he did not aspire to be at the center of it all. For him it was enough to enjoy the spectacle from the fringes, which he felt to be his rightful place.

  Ma loved to accompany him to the occasional lavish event they were invited to, but Ba had never deceived himself that they belonged there, as she had. She wanted it but he knew no one would give them face; that perhaps people even laughed behind his back because his clothes were not as tailored as theirs and his ideas and ambitions not as grand. He accepted this, and had been wise enough to keep
his distance from the great and the good, careful never to step over the boundaries he had set for himself. He was tempted and others tempted him, sometimes genuinely wanting him to join them and at other times to goad and to belittle him. But he had managed to keep a clear and realistic view of his situation and to avoid costly social complications and consequences—until he was overwhelmed by the scale of Ma’s ambition for Sister.

  Ma saw neither complication nor consequence and so did not create any boundaries of her own, refusing to recognize the way he sought to protect himself from suffering and humiliation. She indulged herself and drew him after her, to a place where he was unprotected from taunting queries and demands. In the dying hours of the evening, Ma laughed and sang in the presence of my new family, confident that her life was now complete, whether anyone else agreed with her or not. Ba stood aside and let it all wash over him. For him it was finished now.

  I wondered what would happen later tonight; what Yan had meant when she spoke of it. I had so little knowledge. Sister would certainly have known what was to happen, she and Ma would have discussed it if Sister had not already known, but Ma and Ba had told me nothing. As I sat at the banquet next to my husband, I reflected that he had been quite friendly to me so far. I did not want to be married to him, but he did not seem to mind the fact that I was his wife. I thought then of Bi and how we’d sat in the gardens together. I thought of him holding the corner of my blouse and how our lips had touched. I thought of my dreams of us together; the feeling I had just remembering our kiss was so powerful it beat inside me and overpowered every other sense, so that for a moment I could forget the last few months. I remembered watching and talking to his mother, the seamstress, while she made this dress. I ran the stitching between my finger and thumb under the table as I thought of all of this. I did not know this man next to me, he did not interest me, but I was now First Wife of the next generation of the Sang family. As Sister had predicted, I had inherited her life and her future.

  Most women in those days still entered marriages created by their parents and matchmakers, and in the countryside many couples did not even meet each other before the wedding. In the city, though, Grandfather once told me, a few women were now thinking like foreigners and looking for love. But I did not believe I knew anything about love. How did it feel? What could I expect from it? When did it happen? If Sister had lived I might perhaps have been free to discover these things for myself.

  After I had gone to my room on the preceding nights, Xiong Fa had stayed up drinking with his friends. Sister would have stayed with him, but I was too young and I think he knew this. Tonight, though, was to be the last night of celebrations and I would stay with him and his drinking friends. One named Cheung Liu had a small thin face with slitty eyes and yellow teeth. During the meal he kept knocking into me as he leaned over to pour drinks, and eventually caused me to drop food from my chopsticks. Xiong Fa put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and, with a seriousness that seemed suddenly out of place, said to him, “Liu, be careful . . . control yourself. You must be kind to my new wife.”

  Liu looked shocked for a moment then smiled and replied, “Hey, you had me fooled there. Don’t pretend with us, your old friends, to be so protective and upset. We know you! Soon you will be busy looking for your second wife. You are a Sang man and we all know what that means.”

  His friends laughed with him but I saw that Xiong Fa did not smile back. Instead he looked at me. His eyes were apologetic.

  The dinner drew to a close with more toasts and Xiong Fa looked drunk. He and I exited first, followed by all the guests. Outside Ba came over to me and held my hand. He had never touched me like this before, holding my hand so tight in his. The party was ending but there was still some time left before the guests would have to depart. He had used Brylcreem in his hair and it was combed back Western-style. He looked as handsome as I had seen him on all those nights I had watched him arrive home late with Ma when I was a child. He was wearing a Western-style suit with a black bow tie around a white wing collar, appearing smaller in the narrow tailored suit, as though he was about to fade away. He looked at me and continued to hold my hand but did not smile. I hoped he was about to tell me something, to say something significant before leaving, but he merely pursed his lips and stared past me into the distance. His eyes refocused on me then. He clasped my hand even tighter and kissed me on the forehead.

  “Xiao Feng.” He paused and smiled at me. “Well, you are Xiao Feng no longer. Now you are Mrs. Sang Xiong Fa. Remember, in three days’ time you and Xiong Fa should be coming home to us for the traditional dinner with the bride’s parents. Do not worry if you cannot, though. I realize with all of this,” he looked around, “you might be too busy.

  “Besides what would we be able to offer you and your new husband? The food here is glorious, the kitchens famous. I think Cook at home could no longer impress you.” He breathed out, trembling slightly. “Aiii, my young daughter, I never thought this would happen.”

  I wanted to be held by him but didn’t have the courage to reach out.

  We stood in awkward silence for a moment. After that he released my hand. I wanted to tell him that he was still my Ba and the food did not matter, but no words entered my mouth.

  Ma came up to join us. She had been having a wonderful time and now smiled widely at me, saying again how lucky I was to be joining such a fine family, one of the largest in Shanghai. She looked at me, and then around the hall at everyone busy saying good-bye to each other. She turned back to me but said nothing more, just scrutinized me from toe to head. She turned to Ba then. I could see she was tempted to reenter the party, take in the last of the wine, food, and laughter, but she resisted, perhaps out of the little pride she had left. Ba took her by the hand and she followed him to say farewell to Xiong Fa’s parents and the other departing guests.

  I stood alone for a second before I was suddenly pushed into the family line so that each guest could file past, giving their congratulations and farewells. Most people said nothing to me, a few said I was a beautiful bride, but all of them scrutinized my clothes, posture, and face. I could only manage a half-smile, I was so tired. Face after face bent forward, filling my vision with fatty jowls and my nose with the stench of stale food and wine. Spitting laughter, these sagging faces hung and swayed above me like dripping wax. After an hour we had finished and Yan led me to my room. As we left I looked back to see First Wife and Second Wife looking at me, talking and shaking their heads.

  I was relieved when Yan finally closed my bedroom door. It was finished. I was suddenly very tired yet anxious about what would happen next. Everything had led to this moment, the plans carefully formulated many years ago. But for Sister’s benefit, not for mine.

  Yan struggled to undress me as I was so tired and weak I could barely move. I sat in front of the mirror in my du dou and she spent a while brushing my hair. She said she had been told not to remove my makeup but to get me to bed. I asked her why but she said only that I should remember what she’d told me that morning: I should do what my husband told me. She helped me untie the du dou and then led me to my bed, laying a sheet over me, which she folded back so that my shoulders were exposed. She fanned out my hair across the pillow and blew out the candles and lamps, leaving just one candle burning near the door.

  I lay still, but only because in my curiosity I was lost in thought and had forgotten to move. In the silence, wondering what might happen, I suddenly became nervous. My only comfort was that my husband had been very kind during the last three days, particularly when he’d told his friend Cheung Liu to be careful when he knocked me, and in the morning when he’d asked me how I was. I did not know what to expect from a husband, but mine seemed very thoughtful, like Grandfather would be when guests came to the house. While I waited I could only wonder what I would do tomorrow. The wedding celebration had finished so perhaps I could go back to the gardens, at home. I thought my husband would like the quiet there after the noise of the last three d
ays’ celebrations, and I could introduce him to Grandfather if he still wanted to see me.

  The door opened and Xiong Fa walked in unsteadily. He was still dressed in his marriage robes. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. He said nothing but stared at my face and the curve of my bare shoulders. His eyes traced the line of my hair spread across the pillow. He stroked it and then my cheek. No one had touched me like this before but it was gentle and kind and I did not feel afraid. His hand stayed on my cheek, making small caresses. He smiled at me.

  His face came closer. He pressed his lips against mine and I tried to move away, but he grasped me under the chin to hold me still. Again I tried to pull away and then started to struggle. I wanted him to leave me alone. He reached down and pulled the sheet down to my waist, exposing my breasts. I immediately crossed my arms and he smiled at me again. He paused, then took hold of one of my wrists to move my arm back. I must have looked scared, because he let go of me and waited a moment before letting his left hand slide slowly down my side, moving from my waist to my thigh.

  I automatically clenched my legs together, though I did not know why. I was panicking and terrified. His hand stroked my stomach. I tensed, wanting to bring my knees to my chest, to curl into a ball, but I did not dare move and merely clenched them together a little tighter. His fingers moved down from my stomach to between my legs, tracing a line through me. I felt them push slightly inside and clenched hard against them. Tears started to well up inside me. Though I wanted to hide them, they trickled down my cheeks. He saw them and stopped. He withdrew his hand and just sat there, letting both hands fall into his lap. I started to cry, lying perfectly still and silent, hoping like an injured animal that he would stop hurting me and leave.