by Lilian Lee
"So, why did you bring me here?"
Carefully and gracefully, she placed a glass of wine before him and inclined her head.
"Please, have some wine, for old times' sake. If only you could see yourself—you're in quite a state. Or maybe you're simply doing an excellent job playing the self-righteous moralist!
He took the glass with one hand and set it down on an end table.
"Thanks, anyway!"
He summoned up all his courage and commented:
"I'm afraid your wine would taste of blood."
"Now, that's awfully rude of you, Mr. Yun," she said lightly. She had all the time in the world.
He had no choice but to lift his glass. Throwing his head back, he drained the glass in one gulp and stood up stiffly. He was ready to leave—what was the point of staying?
"I have to go now, Commander Chin, or I'll miss the curtain."
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, it matters!" he snapped. "Being an actor is like being a fireman—you can't just decide not to show up if you don't feel like it; it's not fair to the audience. An actor has a responsibility to make those people sitting in the theater happy."
"Well, you're not making me happy," she whined.
She didn't expect him to be such a stubborn and arrogant opponent. Didn't he realize he owed it to her? Until now, she always got the upper hand with men. Was he really immune to her charms? She leaned forward, the surplice of her blouse gapping immodestly, and in her rush to cover herself, she momentarily revealed even more.
Yun Kai looked away.
"That's no use, either!"
Had he really made up his mind not to have anything to do with her? she wondered. Yoshiko drew near to him and lightly squeezed his hand, trying to draw him to her.
"I'm not a Japanese girl. I'm a Chinese girl!" she simpered.
"What are you trying to get at, Commander Chin?"
She was making him uneasy, and his face started to redden. Slinky as a viper, she licked her crimson lips and narrowed her eyes. Then, suddenly, without warning, she burst into wild laughter.
"Ha! Don't you know? Japanese girls can't even compare with Chinese girls, when it comes to the arts of love."
A strange new sensation was churning within him. She was laying a trap for him, and if he fell in, he would never get out alive. As Yoshiko closed in on him, he lost his balance and fell back onto the sofa, but he quickly got back to his feet and pushed her away brusquely.
"Commander Chin—" He hesitated.
"Go on! Say whatever it is you have to say!" She gave him a suggestive sidelong glance. "I like hearing words from the heart."
This was merely part of her seduction, and Yun Kai felt humiliated to see her treasonous face grinning up at him. His anger flared.
"Words from the heart aren't always pretty to hear. I'm not your kept man, Commander Chin. And even if you were mine to do with as I pleased, I don't think I'd be in the mood for you!"
Yun Kai edged toward the door, bowing ceremoniously as he reached the threshold.
"I beg your pardon, miss, but I must take my leave."
He turned and was gone.
Yoshiko flopped down on the sofa and watched him go. She couldn't say he lacked integrity! He chose to have nothing to do with her, and that was that. And the way he looked right through her—did he think he was better than she was? She had wanted to ask him something: "Do you know the secret of my body?" But he didn't give her the chance. Instead, she was made to look like a fool, rebuffed by some two-bit clown. Suddenly, she brightened, as a crafty smile spread across her face. Rising languidly, she strolled over to the telephone, picked up the receiver, and started to dial.
Yun Kai was hurrying back to the theater, his mind already on the performance that lay ahead. He was the handsome Monkey King, wreaker of havoc in heaven! In the play, the Jade Emperor, ruler of all heaven, gave him the impressive title of "Great Sage Who Unifies Heaven" in recognition of his extraordinary abilities. The Jade Emperor was also hoping to harness his great powers to discipline the other members of the heavenly court.
But the Monkey himself was uncontrollable—not only did he steal the Emperor's prized heavenly peaches and the elixir of immortality and demand his freedom, he also took on the powerful armies and generals of heaven—the Eighteen Lohans, the Blue-Faced Monsters, the Gargantuan Spirit General, and the fearsome Female Arhats. One by one, he defeated them with his fancy footwork and wily tricks.
That's me! Yun Kai thought. Puffed up with confidence, he hummed to himself all the way back to theater. When he got there, he headed backstage. But he was in for a very nasty surprise: When he parted the curtain and looked in on that private world where actors are transformed from ordinary people into supernatural beings, he panicked.
The entire backstage area was completely empty. Not a stick of furniture or a thread of a costume remained. It was deserted.
Yun Kai flew into a rage. His scalp was tingling—she was at the bottom of this! He knew it! He gnawed on his lip in agitation. Face livid and neck bulging, he was like a volcano about to blow its top as he stomped out.
For the second time that evening, Yun Kai found himself standing defiantly before Yoshiko Kawashima. He held his arms stiffly at his sides, fists clenched tight. He mustn't let his fury get the better of him.
"So you're back," Yoshiko said, chuckling nonchalantly. "I shall be your sole audience tonight, Master Yun. You'd better perform well and please me!"
All he really had to do to please her was stand there and look handsome—the rest was just icing on the cake. Even the Monkey King finally met his match—in the story it was the Buddha, but in real life it was Yoshiko. There was no escaping her.
Yun Kai's eyes were ablaze.
"Even we actors have our dignity," he said stubbornly. "Do you think you can just snap your fingers and order me around? I don't feel like putting on a show tonight. You might as well just give me back my things and let me be on my way—unless you want to listen to me calling you names all night."
Yoshiko's expression hardened, and she snorted derisively.
"Now, listen here," she said. "I'm the boss around here, and when I say, 'Jump!' you say, 'How high?' Do you understand? You don't have a stage to prance around on unless I give it to you, and the only stage you're going to dance on tonight is right here!"
"Give me back my props, now!" he said intractably.
Smiling icily, Yoshiko motioned to one of her men.
"Bring it all out!"
Moments later, everything was hauled out: instruments, costumes, bits of scenery, costume armor, and costume swords. This mountain of props was followed by quite a crowd of people: string players, drummers, errand boys, and bit players—the entire troupe was there.
"You may leave after your performance," Yoshiko drawled.
"No!" he said fiercely. "I will not be intimidated by you!"
Yoshiko smiled coquettishly.
"If you're going to be like that," she said playfully, "then I'll have to resort to violence."
Completely missing the point, Yun Kai steeled himself, expecting to be beaten. He wasn't afraid of anyone! He would never give in! The miserable and pitiful sound of moaning assailed his ears. It was coming from the other room. His face fell. They were pistol-whipping one of the company's old lute players. Yun Kai appeared unmoved, but he felt sick at heart, and with every dull, thudding blow that fell on the old man's body, he winced involuntarily.
Yoshiko gave a nod, and another member of the company was dragged off. This time the beating was even more furious, but neither begged for mercy—they had their pride.
"Stop it!" Yun Kai shouted suddenly.
He saw Yoshiko's self-satisfied face before him, grinning slyly. She was exultant. She had won! What a fool he was, she reflected. He wouldn't drink the wine of friendship, preferring the poison of animosity. He turned up his nose at the carrot and went for the stick instead. He was stubborn, all right, but he had to realize that he cou
ldn't get away without doing as she asked.
The injured old zither player was tuning his instrument. Nobody else made a sound. It would be a humiliating performance.
Yun Kai brandished the golden staff that was almost a part of him, gripping it tightly with all his strength. Was he really going to perform just for the pleasure of this witch? One by one, his fellow players came by and patted him on the back in sympathy and encouragement, before slipping quietly out.
Yun Kai made his entrance. The drums rolled just as they always did, only this time they conveyed a sense of pent-up anger. In the play, the mighty Monkey King was invincible, but in real life he couldn't even somersault past one tiny woman, who forced him to dance around in her hand to save his comrades.
Yoshiko reclined on the sofa, in an attitude of complete relaxation, following the smooth arcs of his acrobatics with her eyes. Although she seemed to be enjoying herself, she didn't feel entirely satisfied. Whenever he executed a particularly outstanding move, she clapped and called out, "Bravo!"
Yun Kai didn't dare let his resentment boil over. His ego was bruised, but he still had a spine. Besides, he would never betray his art—he had to give it his all, whatever the circumstances.
He performed only a short act, but this was enough for her, and she took out a thick wad of money and tossed it on a trunk.
"Work for me and I'll pay you double this amount!"
Yun Kai was drenched in sweat, and he mopped himself off with a towel without looking at her.
"We don't want your money!" he hissed between clenched teeth.
"Come, now!" Yoshiko laughed. "Take it, please! You must accept! I wouldn't want people to accuse me, Commander Chin, of abusing my power to get free entertainment. That wouldn't do at all!"
Yoshiko was deeply annoyed, for she had used her power and influence. She stole a few minutes of his time and exacted a superficial obedience from him, but in the end, she couldn't have his heart—hers was a hollow victory. After spending all that time and trouble, all she could get out of him was a grudging performance. It was outrageous! She couldn't let him get away with it.
Maybe deep down in her heart, Yoshiko was not so vindictive, but Yun Kai pushed her too far. It was too late.
Yoshiko turned on her heels and left the room. And then she heard it, loud and unmistakable—the sound of breaking glass—as Yun Kai smashed his fist into the mirror in a paroxysm of rage.
There was shattered glass everywhere, and Yun Kai's hand was covered with blood and studded with slivers of the broken mirror. His companions gathered around him, trying to console him with murmured reassurances.
"Never mind the mess. Don't worry."
"Let's put something on your hand to stop the bleeding, Master Yun. Why take it out on yourself?"
"You were forced to perform—it's not your fault."
"We all know you did it for us—"
"What has the world come to? To think that things have gotten so bad that wc Chinese are letting a bunch of foreigners and their lapdogs lord it over us!"
Yoshiko overheard some of this, but gradually the voices faded as Yoshiko walked away, out of earshot, head held high.
Yun Kai was still gnashing his teeth.
"I won't forget, Commander Chin. No matter what the price, I will have revenge."
But Yoshiko was gone. Soon after that, she left Shanghai and went to Jehol, in the Northeast.
16
The province of Jehol lay between Mukden Province, in Manchukuo, and Hopei Province, in China. Wealth earned through its principal cash crop of opium made Jehol a desirable possession, and it was only natural that with Manchukuo securely in Japanese hands, Japan's covetous gaze should come to rest on Jehol.
In July of 1932, an officer of the Kwantung Army disappeared while vacationing at a Jehol resort. Seizing on this, the Japanese Army spread a rumor that he had been kidnapped by the Chinese resistance, and, on the pretext of rescuing him, invaded Jehol.
The invasion pressed on—from Yingkou and Shanhai Pass to Jchol and Chengtc. Soon Japan issued a unilateral communique declaring that Jchol was now "under the jurisdiction of Manchukuo." The declaration was a political bombshell. Japan was bombarding China on every front.
Countless people lost their lives as Jehol fell to the enemy. Yoshiko was Commander Chin Pi-hui, the heroine of her own Kwantung Army-sponsored fairy tale, lending a hand in the takeover of Jehol with five thousand pacification troops and more than one hundred thousand Japanese yen at her command. Although the takeover was complete, it would be years before things really settled down. The Japanese command had no illusions—there wasn't one Chinese person alive who genuinely wanted friendship and goodwill with the enemy that had invaded his land. "Japanese-Manchurian Friendship" was just a slogan designed to hide the truth from both parties.
As China's provinces fell to Japan one by one, the tide of anti-Japanese sentiment rose ever higher. Some of the most impassioned opponents of Japanese occupation were strong, young Chinese men, and the Japanese struck upon a horribly ingenious way of dealing with them—forcibly injecting them with morphine. Once addicted, they could be written off as harmless. Proud, able-bodied youths were reduced to dull-eyed beggars. There was no one left to fight.
Yoshiko Kawashima didn't care that China's best men were cither dead or dying. She was busy playing at soldiers with her Pacification Army, a ragtag band of ruffians. They weren't a regular army at all—they were rounded up with very little attention paid to their qualifications. Her fancy title of commander in chief was just a charade.
Yoshiko toured the still-unpacified province of Jehol several times. Her mission was to coax the insurgents into surrendering, although she made many speeches to the rank and file along the way, indulging her theatrical tendencies. What she liked best about the military life was standing on a podium and declaiming lots of high-sounding phrases into a microphone for the benefit of her troops. The assembled men stood spellbound, in rapt and respectful silence.
"Jehol is in actuality a part of Manchuria," she exclaimed passionately. "It must be reunited with the motherland—Manchukuo. As I speak, our soldiers are out on the front lines. And why are they there? Because they like warfare and are hungry for conquest? No! They are there, ready to fight, and if need be, ready to die, for the common people of Manchukuo and their poor, downtrodden Chinese brethren. These poor people have been abused and reviled by unworthy leaders—we will give them a sense of belonging, we will give them a home, a paradise on earth! Nothing in the world would make your commander happier than to see them happy and prosperous!"
The troops began to applaud, while Yoshiko went on:
"You men who are here today are closest to my heart. I know that the respect is mutual. I have high hopes for you great warriors, I have faith—"
A gunshot cut her short. A sniper from the ranks.
A voice cried out: "Traitor!"
Yoshiko was seriously injured; the bullet had gone through her left shoulder. The searing pain was compounded by her indignation—the shot had been fired by one of her own beloved soldiers. This double blow was more than she could bear.
With great effort, she managed to remain standing and not lose consciousness.
"After him!" she bellowed.
Her underlings plunged into the crowd, seeking out the would-be assassin. Who was he? Every man present was automatically a suspect, and everyone was detained for questioning.
Yoshiko's troops were a motley bunch indeed. They counted among their number small-time hoods, spies, bandits, profiteers, and revolutionaries. Any one of them could have done it.
Yoshiko struggled with all her might, but, unable to hang on any longer, she crumpled to the ground. A bright red bloodstain spread across her uniform.
Paradise on earth, indeed!
How could she deliver something like that when she couldn't even control a paltry five thousand men!
Yoshiko lay in bed, burning with pain and anger. She had endured this agony for thirt
y hours now, and every time the drugs wore off, the pain seemed even worse than before. The left side of her body was on fire, and her entire body was bathed in sweat. It was like being tied up with barbed wire that tightened with every breath, until it seemed to be driving its thorns into her very bones.
Seeing that the pain was unbearable, her doctor gave her another injection of morphine.
Much later, she opened a weary eye to the hazy outline of a man. It was Shunkichi Uno's aide-de-camp. So, he did care after all, she thought.
She tried to sit up, but her limbs felt like jelly, and she thought she heard her joints scraping together when she moved. Maybe it was just her imagination.
"Commander Chin!" the aide saluted her.