All the Flowers in Shanghai

by Duncan Jepson

  “Yes, and it’s time.” I got up and went to the dressing table and started to brush my hair. “Yan, please can you go to Xiong Fa and tell him that I would like him to come to my room and take me to dinner?”

  My husband came to my room about five minutes before dinner was due to start. We entered the room about a minute late but exactly on time as everyone was waiting for Father-in-law, who was directly behind us. I had made myself look as beautiful as I could. Heads turned as we took our places, and as we did I noticed Father-in-law looking at my swollen stomach. After taking his own seat, he leant into Xiong Fa’s shoulder, whispering, and Xiong Fa nodded in reply. Father-in-law stood up and told everyone to be quiet.

  “As you know, I do not believe in interrupting meals and I don’t like to speak so openly.” Everything was silent but for the sound of people shuffling around to see him speak. “This year has been a great year for Xiong Fa . . .” I looked at my husband. Did I love him the way Yan had described loving her husband, or as Grandfather and Grandmother had done? His father continued speaking and Xiong Fa looked up at him and smiled, then surprised me by turning and looking at me and openly taking my hand. “ . . . He has started taking the lead in much of the business which keeps you all wealthy,” Father-in-law needled them, “but he has also established himself in Society with his First Wife, Feng. He has just told me that Feng is pregnant again and I want everyone to toast them! Next month there is a family dinner with many invited guests and we will have more toasts to them when we are there.” With that he finished and raised his cup of tea and everybody followed.

  As Father-in-law sat down, he patted Xiong Fa on the back. Father-in-law muttered something to himself, smiled, and then launched into his food. I looked at First Wife, who was beaming wide smiles at her son and her husband. She even smiled at me. It was as Ming had said. After all the things we had done to each other . . . and I wondered how many more there would be. I asked myself again whether I loved my husband. What is love to us Chinese? Yet I felt all these bonds, forged by confrontation, kindness, and sympathy, had some meaning, and that I now wanted them in my life.

  I would like to see if Xiong Fa would be a good father; if I could be a good mother; what choices we would make, together and separately. As I watched Father-in-law talk so volubly and repeatedly pat Xiong Fa proudly, I wondered how he and I would treat each other in the future, what it would be like when my husband was head of this family. I wondered, too, whether he would take other wives. But with each new question about the future, I always returned to thoughts of you.

  Chapter 16

  Shanghai Society had never experienced an event like the Sang dinner. Foreign lives and local lives were mostly separate, segregation existed in many areas of life no matter how wealthy and educated Chinese families had become. It was our country and our city but access was restricted. The Sang dinner required Western dress for the men but Chinese dress for the women. Father-in-law wanted to show the foreigners what we all knew, namely that we could be as sophisticated as they were, perhaps more so.

  The guests arrived in their chauffeur-driven cars and were ushered into the main entrance of the Cathay Hotel. We had taken every room in the hotel so that no foreigners could be there; even foreign envoys had to be turned away and would cause no trouble by demanding that Chinese were prevented from using certain areas of the building—of course, this also impressed the guests. The menu included all sorts of foods, some that were rare animals, other ingredients that had been transported from Southeast Asia and Japan.

  The ballroom had a traditional Chinese orchestra that would play when people entered and during the meal, and then afterward there was a Western-style band that would play music to which the younger guests could dance. The family, and particularly Xiong Fa, First Wife, and I had to be there at six o’clock as the first guests would arrive at half past. Three weeks before, I had gone to the tailor Xiong Fa had introduced me to, to have a dress made. It was a copy of one I had seen in a photo-magazine and I had taken the picture so he could copy it. It was black chiffon and had a train to it that trailed on the floor behind. I also had black soft leather gloves made to match and bought some heeled shoes, which were acquired especially for me. Xiong Fa had bought me a beautiful diamond necklace that he said was made in France, and for himself he had made a new evening suit and although your father would never be a handsome man, he was very smartly dressed and had come to look quite dignified. For the first time, Father-in-law wore a completely Western-styled evening suit. Normally he would wear a ma qua with trousers but this evening he wanted to show the foreigners that we Chinese could be as comfortable with their customs as we were with our own, which is why he required the dress code of all guests. First Wife wore a traditional cheongsam and as she had looked at my wedding, she wore too much makeup and was quite a terrible sight. The four of us waited in the hotel lobby area, which extended into the ballroom. We had arranged for drinks outside first for people to gather and then once a good number had arrived we would enter the ballroom and take our seats. My dress was a little tight and my stomach was conspicuous. Xiong Fa made me sit down until my standing was absolutely necessary.

  The event could not have run more perfectly. I had purposely sat Ming next to First Wife; she would confuse First Wife completely and as we walked from the drinks reception through the huge foyer to the dining room, Ming took my arm to accompany me. As usual she was all things elegant, graceful, and beautiful and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  “You’ve done it. It’s you that has pulled this family from the recesses of good social behavior and put them in their rightful place. There has never been such a gathering of old cronies and the younger generation with such style. Well done, you,” she squeezed my arm and faked a growl, which was followed by a hearty laugh, “the room looks very classy, I’m so impressed.”

  “Oh, thank you, you’re my best friend,” I said this jokingly but it was true. “I didn’t do very much. I just chose this place and arranged for both traditional and Western ideas, a Chinese orchestra for now and a dance band for later. You look gorgeous as always.”

  “You always say that,” she squeezed my arm again, “but tell me about this necklace you’re wearing. Who, what, and where?” she winked at me.

  “It was from Xiong Fa.” I blushed.

  “Is this the first jewelry he has given you?”

  “Well, yes, it is, he specially chose it for me.” I blushed again.

  “It’s beautiful. Now let’s see some old people and give them our respect, it keeps them alive.”

  The meal was a success with eighteen courses including some old favorites such as chicken soaked in rice wine, red-cooked pork belly, and, of course, tofu in Jin Hua ham. At the end of the dinner, many of the elder generation went straight home as usual but the younger guests stayed for more drinking and dancing. They knew nearly all the European dance styles and as I had decided it would be safer for the baby if I did not dance I sat on the side and watched with Ming.

  “So when is the birthday cake for your father-in-law?” she asked, very straight-faced.

  “What is a birthday cake?” I pronounced the foreign words awkwardly and not nearly as confidently as Ming but it was very amusing to hear.

  “It’s a foreign tradition,” she explained, “a very dry dessert with lots of sugar. It is horrible and tasteless, just very sweet.”

  “Well, in the end he didn’t want anything, just the party and the ham.” We laughed and continued watching the dancing.

  “It’s marvelous how a well-pressed suit can make a man. I think Westerners have got at least a few things right.” She laughed.

  “Well, suits and dancing, that’s two beautiful things,” I said, “more than you would expect.”

  We watched the dancers on the floor and I wished I could join them. I knew I shouldn’t but I couldn’t help wanting just one dance and when Xiong Fa came up to me to ask how I was, I suggested we dance one song.

  He re
ached out and I took his hand. The band was striking up a quickstep, which was popular, and the dance floor filled within seconds. Xiong Fa and I had danced this a few times but he had been drinking and the tail to my dress was making it awkward. We moved a few steps then I tripped and fell. I landed hard on my side and felt the floor against my ribs. I know I did not land on my front and the baby was safe but I felt concerned immediately. The people near me stopped dancing just as I hit the floor and by the time Xiong Fa and a few other men nearby had stooped to pick me up the band had already stopped.

  Xiong Fa noticed I was clutching my left side as I stood up.

  “Are you all right? You are holding yourself,” he asked gently guiding me to a chair.

  “I think so. It wasn’t very clever of us was it? It was my fault.” It was all I could say as my side felt sore. I sat down and Xiong Fa knelt in front of me.

  “No, it wasn’t, we should know better. I will fetch the doctor.” He stood up and then turned to face the crowd and the band, then called out, “Everyone, it’s fine, band, please continue, more music, everyone dance, drink more.” Then he turned and walked out of the room to find the doctor. On their return the doctor did a check of the baby, feeling around my stomach.

  “Is the baby fine, doctor? I’m very worried,” I asked urgently.

  “Yes, it seems good,” he started pressing gently against my ribs, “but how does this feel?”

  I flinched a little as he pushed.

  “That is a very sharp pain indeed,” I shot back.

  “Well, it looks like you heavily bruised this area around your ribs. Let’s go to your hotel room and you can rest, I can examine you properly,” he calmly suggested while beckoning Xiong Fa to lift me to the standing position.

  “Yes, yes but is the baby okay?”

  “I see no bleeding and there are no other signs of any complications. You seem fine.”

  Yan and the doctor helped me to my suite on the first floor. The corridors of the hotel are long and winding and when I got to the room I was glad to remove my shoes and simply lie down. The doctor sat on the edge of the bed and felt each rib in turn. I squealed as he touched the lower two ribs on the left side.

  “Yes, it is these two,” the doctor confirmed. “Now I have a pain relief and I think you should rest here for the remainder of the evening.”

  “But I’ll miss the rest of the party. It’s important I’m there with Xiong Fa.”

  The doctor looked perplexed but he had got to know me well since Ming first introduced us.

  “All right rest here first and if you still feel fine after twenty minutes or so then return but you sit down and no dancing or running around,” he said with finality, “you hired me and so listen to me.”

  The doctor and Yan waited with me, then as I still felt fine, they led me downstairs and back to the ballroom. Xiong Fa was standing in the entrance, half-watching the party and half-waiting for me.

  “Is she all right, doctor?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. You should find her a seat where you can both sit to watch but which doesn’t require any kind of movement.” The doctor was a little impatient with our insistence on continuing with the party. “I’ll be waiting outside as before.”

  The party finished after another two hours and once I had said good-bye to the last of the guests, Yan helped me upstairs to my suite again. She undressed me, temporarily laying the dress over the bedside chair, and then put me to bed. In the dim light of the room, I watched her return to the dress and, picking it up, she hung it up on the outside of the huge wardrobe at the other end of the room, which was almost fifty feet long, near the entrance door, opposite the main bay window. Yan was careful with the dress but I wanted to be rid of it. I had wanted to be the most beautiful and elegant woman there but it had been a hideous thing that had tripped me and nearly injured the baby. Yan disappeared around the corner toward the door and I peered into the darkness and started to become very anxious that I had hurt the child. When she reappeared, she found me murmuring to myself as I was falling asleep, worrying about the baby. I felt her sit next to me and gently stroke my stomach and my hair.

  Chapter 17

  The winters in Shanghai are very cold and I remained huddled in my room next to the heater Lao Tung brought me. The days passed uneventfully and I made no effort to pursue any adventures in the city. I avoided First Wife, and occasionally Father-in-law would come to my room to ask me how I was or, more conveniently, send one of his servants to inquire. With the arrival of spring, Xiong Fa worked more and was given more responsibility; his work would keep him away all day and night so I rarely saw him. He had long ceased visiting me to use my body but would simply sit with me and drink tea. I had heard from Yan that some of the younger maids were trying to tempt him to come to their beds but he would not do that, or at least not yet but I suspected he would eventually give in as he had before. I had thought about whom he might choose as a second wife, suspecting it would be a young girl from a large and well-connected family. He was much more confident than before and would have much less trouble finding a new woman.

  When April finally came I was very large and had become quite fat from eating so much. Yan would not stop bringing traditional food to make the baby stronger and healthier, which of course I had to eat before my own meals.

  “A fat baby is a healthy baby,” she would say to me.

  The morning I gave birth I woke up feeling quite well but the pain came on me suddenly and my water broke. We were in my apartment and, seeing this, Yan held me up and took me to lie on the bed. She then sent for Xiong Fa and Ah Cheuk, who would fetch the Western-trained doctor. Xiong Fa came in first and stood over me.

  “It will be all right this time. He will live and be a glorious head of this family. Strong and powerful,” he burbled excitedly. “He will be clever and strong, won’t he?”

  “I hope so,” I replied with much less confidence. “Please . . . can you make sure the doctor comes quickly? I need him.” I had grown very attached to my new doctor, who had trained in Europe.

  “Ah Cheuk has gone for him. He will be here soon.” My husband took my hand.

  “I feel like my stomach will burst!” I shouted.

  This time I was not driven by a greater force, which would push me through the pain. I had no other desire than to see my child, no plan for hurt and revenge, and consequently felt every tear and stretch. It was as if this were my first child. I looked at Xiong Fa and did not know how we had suddenly fitted together; the last year we’d spent planning for this baby had seemed so easy and simple, yet looking at him now I wondered whether it had all been a lie. The past does not die like plants do, fertilizing the soil for new and possibly splendid successors to grow and thrive upon. It does not fade away, but can leave behind either wondrous towering monuments of beauty and love upon which over time we build our happiness, or else it scars and disfigures us, causing endless pain. But it is never nothing; it does not simply vanish, it is only hidden from us.

  Yan rushed through the door with the doctor, who immediately suggested Xiong Fa leave. I was relieved, because every time I looked at him it reminded me of the lie I still let him believe. I watched him go reluctantly, concerned for my pain at the coming of his second child. He was anxious and called out encouragement to me as he left. He could be a good man, but I realized I could not think of him as my man, as Ming’s husband had always seemed to her.

  The doctor asked Yan to bring hot towels and water, and told me to push. I felt myself ripping, saw bloody towels, and smelled iron and shit again. But this time I was looking and there was a head, and then I felt such an intense pain I wanted to cry, and then there were feet . . . and then everything went quiet.

  “What is it?” I shouted. I heard my baby cry.

  “Is he all right?” I said urgently.

  “Yes, yes, but I must look at him properly,” the doctor responded flatly. I could hear Yan speaking softly and the doctor saying yes.

  Yan appea
red at my side with a wet towel and started drying and washing me. She applied pads to stop my bleeding and I looked up at her as she busied herself.

  “Yan, what is it?” I said calmly, but still she did not look at me. “Yan, look at me and tell me what is going on?”

  I felt a tear drop from her cheek onto my mouth and its saltiness between my lips.

  “Yan!” I screamed.

  “Mistress, it is good news . . . it is a boy.”

  “That is good.” I breathed out and felt another tear hit me. “But why are you crying?”

  “Mistress, something terrible has happened. The baby has a bad foot,” she whispered to me in a low hoarse voice.

  I struggled to sit up. The pain was intense and I was still bleeding. The doctor was holding up the baby, a little boy, and I could see that his right foot was shrunken and deformed. I did not care; it seemed such a little thing in comparison to the joy of seeing my second child.

  “Dr. Pang, is he healthy? I can see there is something wrong with his foot. I know that. Apart from that, tell me, is he healthy?” I asked. Pang cradled him in his arms and stood looking down at his tiny head, shoulders, arms, and legs.

  “He is healthy and strong, but his right foot has not grown properly,” the doctor said almost apologetically. “Now you must rest because you’ve lost much blood. I’ll bring the baby to you once the bleeding has stopped and you have the strength to hold him.”

  The doctor took him to the cradle we had brought into my apartment. Just as he put him down Xiong Fa came back into the room. He went straight to the baby, looked him over for a few seconds, then jumped back with a start. I knew, as did Yan and the doctor, that the senior members of the Sang family would not accept this child as their heir. He would not be considered capable of fulfilling that role, no matter what he may become and no matter how useless the rest of them may be; he might as well have been born a girl, in their eyes. But to me he was perfect. I watched Xiong Fa, who, after recoiling, looked around at me and saw the blood and shit on the mattress and that I was still bleeding, and turned back to our son.