All the Flowers in Shanghai

by Duncan Jepson

  “Mistress! I have just received a note from master’s servant, that ugly Ah Cheuk, saying that your parents will be coming tomorrow,” she announced.

  I did not move, looking at the ceiling—an unending white. I no longer felt anything.

  “What do they want?”

  “I don’t know, but it will do you good to see them again.”

  “When will they come?”

  I did not want to see them. What did they want to see me for? What could they have to say?

  “They will come at ten o’clock in the morning. Ah Cheuk gave me this letter from Master Xiong Fa.”

  She passed me a sheet of paper. The letter was short, saying merely that my parents had requested to see me after hearing I had lost my son. Xiong Fa finished by saying he thought it was a good idea as it might aid my recovery.

  “Thank you, Yan.” I gave her back the note. “I will go back to sleep, you can leave me.”

  She waited for a moment, surprised by my coldness, then turned and left me.

  I returned to lying on my back and closed my eyes. I saw Xiong Fa, his bulk heavy above me, his hips brushing and rubbing against my thighs. In the blackness I felt his ugliness trying to penetrate me, control and hurt me. I looked up and saw his face, contorted and red, felt his sweat drip on my face. I rubbed my face hard but it remained wet. Nothing seemed to dry my cheeks, his disgusting sweat continued to stain them.

  I woke up suddenly, finding my face covered in tears. I pulled the sheet up to it and dried my eyes.

  I had nothing to say to my parents. I must see them out of politeness, but this would be the last time.

  In the morning I woke up in time to be bathed and then dressed by Yan and two young maids. I lay in the bath in the center of my room and looked out of the window into the clouds. The sun streamed in and warmed my shoulders and face. I hadn’t decided what I would wear. I thought about meeting Ba again and what he would say to me. The last time I had seen him was the final night of the wedding when I was still his little daughter. He had held my hand tight as we parted and now I knew why. He had been anxious for me. He had known what awaited me, and though he would do nothing, he understood, as all men must, what would happen to me after that night. I thought of his face and was sad that he had loved me but failed me, like Grandfather.

  I didn’t think of you; just of myself. I refused to think of you.

  I thought of Ma and how I would feel when I saw her. She had sent me here assuming that like Sister I would be happy at our success of joining this family and all that I, and she, would gain once I was married. She would expect me to repay my debt to her for arranging this marriage by ensuring she was welcomed into these social circles. I could find nothing inside myself but hatred for her. I would never give her what she felt she was owed but I also wanted her to know that it would always be out of her reach and that all her work and sacrifice was for nothing.

  I decided to wear my most expensive cheongsam, with my most beautiful shawl over it. Everything must be perfect; there would be no flaws. I wanted to see her beg for what she really wanted, what she had fought for and used us to obtain.

  At ten o’clock I sat like a dutiful daughter, waiting on one of the chairs lining the main hallway. They arrived at five minutes past ten. Ba was dressed in a Western suit with a fedora and Ma in a new cheongsam she must have acquired since I had left. The silk was dull, the colors bright but with no depth, and the embroidery loose. It was poor quality. They stood in the doorway and looked over at me, then, marveling, up at the ceiling three floors above.

  “Xiao Feng, you look lovely . . . so grown up,” my father said as he walked toward me. “We heard that you had lost your son. Have you recovered properly?”

  He came close to me as if to take my hand but hesitated, perhaps reminding himself that I was married now and he could not be so presumptuous. He looked healthy and his eyes had regained some of the brightness they had had before Sister had fallen ill. Ma looked older still, having never recovered from the death of her beloved eldest child and the anxiety and disgust that had haunted her from having to rely on me to save her reputation.

  “Yes, Ba, I feel much better now. I was very tired but feel much stronger just seeing both you and Ma. Yan will show us to a room where we can have tea,” I told them.

  She led us to the room where I had been forced to stand prior to the wedding, where First and Second Wife had come to prod and sneer at me, and where Yan herself had first cared for me. Shortly after the ceremony, chairs and tables had been placed in here so the room could serve as a place to meet guests on a formal basis.

  We sat down, my parents next to each other and I opposite, a table with a tea set on it between us.

  “You have been very lucky. This house is magnificent,” Ma began.

  “Yes, I have.”

  She looked around the room but was quickly distracted by the beauty of the scrolls that had impressed me nearly two years earlier, even while I stood here and cried.

  “I hope that you often pray in thanks to your sister, for what she gave up,” Ma continued.

  Never.

  I said nothing in reply.

  We sat opposite each other in silence. Ba sipped his tea and smiled at me, his legs crossed at the knees and his back held straight against the antique chair carved with its images of cranes at a lakeside.

  “I think it would be proper for you to suggest we visit you both for dinner. You were supposed to visit us after the wedding, but you never did and that was very disrespectful,” Ma remarked pointedly.

  “I’m sorry that we did not come.”

  I do not need to apologize to you.

  “How is your health?” Ba asked. “Xiong Fa told me he was very worried.”

  “I am well, Ba. It was bad for me at first and then I was so very tired but now I feel much better. Yan has helped me so much.” I looked over at her standing by the door, and smiled. My father followed the direction of my gaze and smiled warmly at her, too.

  “How is Grandfather?”

  “He is not well. Has not been well since that day . . . but he told me to say hello to you.”

  Hello is never enough from one you love.

  “Feng, please make sure that you tell your father-in-law and husband that we must come for dinner. Will you do this?” Ma asked, more insistently.

  “I will try.”

  “Try is not good enough! It is through my efforts you have made this great marriage.”

  “Thank you, Ma. But I can only try. We are just women, aren’t we?”

  “If you do not do this—show proper respect for me and your father—then I will not speak to you again.”

  A promise that should be kept, I decided.

  “I will try,” I said, assuming meekness.

  “You will do this. You are my daughter.”

  “Xiao Feng, please do this for your mother,” Ba interrupted.

  To me, she was my mother no longer.

  “I will try.”

  “Don’t keep saying that! All these things are mine . . . I mean, they were meant for your sister,” she corrected herself quickly.

  Ba sat quietly next to her. He sipped his tea and looked past me into the distance. He barely moved, as if I or another member of the Sang family would have to give him permission first.

  “We were told that you lost your son, that he died at birth.” Ma looked at me hard and directly. “I knew you did not understand what living in this type of family would mean. Your sister understood. She understood the sacrifice and that everything must be done properly and prepared correctly. She would have done all that was necessary to have a son and fulfill her duties.”

  She kept her eyes fixed on me, as she used to do when she was commanding my obedience. Her fierce stare did not make me afraid anymore. It was she who did not know what being a Sang meant. And never would.

  “Yes, I did lose a son. Ma, Sister is dead she will not be having any sons or daughters. Perhaps one day I will try again.�
� I sat with my back, neck, and chin held high and straight, as imperious as I could make myself. I thought of Ming then and her poise and sophistication—so far above Ma, with her meager wisdom and endless ambition. I lifted my cup to my lips and sipped lightly, my lips feeling the heat as the liquid touched them. I thought of whether I would ever want to try again and I felt nothing but revulsion at the idea.

  Ba still had not moved except to cross his legs.

  Ma leaned back, satisfied I would do her bidding.

  We sat in silence for several minutes. Then Ba spoke up.

  “You look beautiful, Feng Feng. You have become a woman.”

  I smiled at him.

  “Thank you, Ba.”

  Ma looked at the floor and then around the room.

  “Feng, to me you’re not a woman until you fulfill your obligations to your family and show proper respect to your mother,” she said sourly. “We have given everything to ensure this marriage was achieved. Now you must give us the proper face in return.”

  “Wasn’t this for Sister?” I asked. “You never intended me to marry.”

  “It does not matter which of you eventually married!” Her voice raised, she looked me full in the face.

  Silence again. Ma’s face was heavily lined and her mouth bitter and downturned. She had put on more makeup than usual and it sat heavily on her skin, making it appear waxy and lifeless.

  “It’s time for you both to go. I have a lunch appointment,” I said, lying.

  I stood up and Ba followed me quickly. Ma stood up slowly, looking at me all the time as she did, reminding me that more still was expected of me.

  There was nothing more for her here; the only thing she would now gain from my marriage was the knowledge I had taken away what she wanted most.

  Yan opened the door to the room and we walked out into the great hallway. As we crossed it to the front door, Ba paused and spoke the last words he would say to me.

  “Feng Feng, you must have a glorious life here . . . just like an empress.” His watery smile was quickly lost against the vastness of the hall. “Let us know when you are to have another child.”

  Ma and Ba continued to the front door. The doorman opened it and with a last look at each other they left. I stood and watched the door close then turned and went back to my room, dismissing Yan.

  I sat at my dressing table. I removed my jewelry and makeup. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw how, in my self-belief, I had transformed myself from my mother’s timid daughter to a member of this family. I thought I had understood what Ming had said that first night, what it was to have married from one family into another, to be swallowed whole. I was a Sang, and now I would learn to take all that was mine.

  I was fooling myself.

  Chapter 12

  More weeks passed. They all left me alone. Then, one afternoon, Ah Cheuk arrived with a request from Xiong Fa. My husband wanted to see me.

  As I walked across the landing, I could see fifteen or so relatives below, watching me. Ah Cheuk had obviously shown the message to other servants before coming to me. They stood silently in the hall. I looked up and could see others hanging from the balustrades enclosing the landings of the floors above. Eyes were bulging and necks craned to see me.

  Yan and I walked slowly to Xiong Fa’s room and Yan knocked. Xiong Fa himself opened the door. He stood to one side to allow me to enter.

  “Come in.” His eyes followed me. “You look like you have recovered. I was very worried.” He paused. “What was wrong with our son?” he asked eventually.

  “It was no son, it was stillborn.” I did not bother to soften my words. I wanted to hurt him, always.

  “A terrible thing. We lost a little man. What did he look like?”

  “Does it matter? We can try again soon.” I had been looking at the selection of food he had ordered. “You do want to try again, don’t you? Or do you want to find someone else?”

  He looked lost for a minute.

  “Yes, I want a son . . . or a daughter. I would like a child.” He moved toward me then stopped. “Let’s eat. I ordered you some soup, it is what you should eat to strengthen yourself. You must still be very tired.”

  We started to eat and after a few minutes’ silence, I said, “I would like to go back to that hotel we visited when I first came here. It had all those beautiful women, dancing and having tea.” I made my request without any pretense at shame while tasting the soup, which was delicious.

  Xiong Fa seemed shocked. He did not respond but slowly picked up food with his chopsticks—beef, cabbage, dumplings—and put it in his bowl. He ate slowly, pausing after every few mouthfuls. Occasionally he would look up at me but we ate in silence for the next ten minutes.

  “After such a terrible thing, why do you want to go back to the tea dance?” he said finally.

  “Because I want to learn to dance, to look beautiful, and meet people again. Weren’t those the best people in town?”

  “Yes, they are from some of the most important and notable families in this city, some very influential people,” he agreed, putting down his chopsticks and leaning back in his chair, “but why do you want to go? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

  “I want you to take me out. I have been in this house for the last eight months and I want to see people and enjoy life in this city with you.” I realized that at that moment, it was the only thing that mattered to me, and it should be mine.

  I would fill myself with something more than food and tea. I wanted to take what Ma and Sister had longed for so much. I would fill my emptiness as they had wanted to fill theirs. I would take what had been theirs but was now mine, and I would consume it all.

  “I want to live as my sister would have done,” I stated.

  Xiong Fa looked at me seriously then he shook his head and smiled sadly.

  “You want to become like your sister? Is that all you can think about after what just happened to you?” The smile slid from his face and his eyes narrowed to dark slits, like his father’s. “Are you certain?”

  “It will become me. Yes, I want to be the wife your father wanted for you.”

  “Wait, I never said anything about what my father wanted.”

  “That is who you were going to marry.” I looked up from eating. “But I will be better than my sister.”

  “Well then, we’ll buy you new clothes and go out to dance.” He breathed in sharply. “But I’m surprised you want this.”

  I watched him through my eyelashes. He noticed and his eyes slid away from mine.

  “My parents want us to try for another child as soon as we can.” He got up from the table and came around to me, brushing my cheek with the side of his index finger. “Tomorrow we’ll buy clothes and all the other things you want. Now I must go to work. I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

  I looked up at him.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll have another child. I am sure we will give the family a strong heir,” he reassured me.

  Fool.

  “I’m sure we will, and I’ll respect all that you say . . . but never forget that it was your mother who hit me and caused me to lose your son.”

  He said nothing to that but took his jacket from a hanger on the back of the door and left with Ah Cheuk, who had come to escort him back to his car.

  I remained sitting and glanced around me. I realized that this place no longer terrified me. It was just a room full of wooden furniture and a few ornaments, all arranged neatly and simply. I looked down at the half-finished bowl of fish soup, which was still warm. I brought the bowl to my face and the warmth fanned my cheeks. I drank the rest and returned the bowl to the table. The soup was enough for me. I stood up to look more closely at the objects in the room.

  There was a small glass cabinet standing in the corner of the room adjacent to the main door. It held many little glass bottles of different colors—the prettiest things in the room. They seemed strange things for a man to have, out of place with everything except the toy train.
Three or four bottles were placed on the top of the cabinet, within easy reach of anybody’s hands. I bent down and looked closely at one of the bottles, a three-sided yellow one with a tiny silver cap and a beautiful dragon climbing down from the heavens fired onto each side. I could see the distorted outline of the photograph hanging behind it when I looked through it. The picture was of Xiong Fa being held by his mother as a baby. Through the glass, the image of mother and child was tinted with yellow. They looked sick and ghostly, as if captured inside it.

  I picked up the bottle by its little cap and held it in front of my right eye, closing my left. I looked at the photo again. Mother and son floated at the bottle’s center. They were not captured but protected, safely locked away. I let the bottle drop to the floor. It broke into many little pieces, some of which I trod on. Without knocking, Ah Cheuk came rushing into the room. He looked at me angrily and knelt down by my feet to look at the damage and started to pick up the pieces.

  I stepped back and watched him hungrily collect the tiniest pieces, cutting himself as he did so. Yan arrived some minutes later and, seeing Ah Cheuk at work, looked at me and gave me that sad half-smile that told me she was worried for me.

  “It was an accident,” I said. “I’ll go back to my room.” We walked out, Yan first, and I said to her, “I will be rejoining the family for dinner tonight. Tomorrow we are going shopping.”

  As we passed back across the landings overlooking the main hallway below, I saw that some of the family members were still standing there, waiting to see what had happened between Xiong Fa and me. Perhaps they thought I would soon become First Wife of two wives.

  During the weeks and months that followed, I became the woman you knew. With each day that passed I further indulged myself acquiring all the things that Ma and Sister had longed to have. The prizes they had been denied. I had asked to buy dresses and the day after my lunch with my husband, Ah Cheuk appeared at the door to my apartment to inform me that Xiong Fa was waiting in the car below to take me shopping. Yan led me downstairs to where the car stood waiting at the side entrance to the main building. The compound, for that is what it really was, had a grand front entrance, which gave onto the main street, while at the back was the entrance to the courtyard. Here were the servants’ quarters and working rooms. On the right-hand side of the largest building, which contained the main hallway and our sleeping apartments, was a driveway that could accommodate several cars; Xiong Fa’s was parked there.