“I don’t speak Chinese. Only a few words.”
The executive nodded. “In Singapore I only speak English.” He pointed to the old man in front of him, explaining that he was accompanying his aged father who had escaped in 1947. “Dad’s still sentimental about China,” he said. “He has no family, but he’s looking forward to returning to the village where he was born.”
He frowned as his father opened his suitcases and boxes for the Chinese soldiers in green uniforms and red-starred caps. “That’s typical of these first-generation migrants. They want their countrymen to think they are rich and important, so he’s shipped the villagers TV sets and bicycles. He even plans to give a banquet for the whole place.” He shook his head. “In Singapore he’s a store clerk.”
Lili wondered if her mother would have acted the same way had she had the chance to return. “How do you feel about coming to China?”
“Me?” He seemed surprised by the question. “I guess I feel a kind of pull,” he said after a few moments. “Strange isn’t it? My wife was born in Singapore, but she thinks I’m nuts. ‘Why visit that lousy country? Why not the U.S.? Or Europe?’ And my kids agree.”
The executive’s turn was next. He opened his suitcase, his carry-on, then his briefcase, all the while tapping his foot impatiently. He whispered to Lili, “Their way is different from ours. They work and think slower.” The immigration officer finally waved him through. “You’ll see,” he said as he turned to leave.
“Next?”
A moment later, Lili did see. The customs official stared at her documents for several minutes, then shook his head.
“What’s the problem?”
“You had a direct visa from Hong Kong to Xi’an.”
“Yes, but I changed my plans.” Lili pointed to the new stamp. “See I have permission to visit Guangchou, Shaoshan, Wuhan, Nanjing, Suzhou, and Shanghai.”
This prompted a conference in Cantonese with his colleague who also shook his head. “Highly irregular.”
Unsure, they summoned a pigtailed young woman in an Army uniform. “My name is Lieutenant Bao. Please follow me.”
Lili was led to a smaller room sparingly furnished with a cushioned chair and one threadbare davenport. “I will need your travel papers and passport.”
“But why?”
“My supervisor will check on you.”
“Good God. Check what? I’m just a doctor. It’s not like I’m some kind of spy.”
Miss Bao studied her for a long time.
“Look, can’t I just talk to your supervisor? I’m sure I can clear up any problems in a few minutes.”
“Not during xiu si.”
Lili barely contained her impatience. “And what is xiu si?”
The young woman explained that from noon until two p.m. most people had their rest period and couldn’t be disturbed. Xiu si, it seemed, was an immutable institution in China.
Lili checked her watch. Twelve fifteen. How would she fill her time?
“Please complete these entry forms.”
“I just did.”
“We would like duplicates, please.”
Lili felt a rising desire to scream, then began to giggle.
“Are you unwell?” the young woman asked.
“No, no, I’m fine,” Lili managed, still laughing. Perhaps it made sense for China to be so entrenched in bureaucracy. After all, this was where paper and printing were invented.
“Would you like the floor fan turned on?”
Lili nodded. The temperature was at least ninety degrees in the closed space.
“I’ll bring you hot tea in just a moment.”
Great. That’s just great, Lili thought. But this time she stifled her laughter.
Beijing, China
General Tong stood with his hands behind his back as he gazed through the foreign minister’s office window facing Tiananmen Square.
“Chi-Wen is enroute to pick up the girl and Dr. Seng has talked with the professor. That is good. But this,” he said pointing to the scene outside, “is a troublesome complication.”
“We’ve dealt with these kinds of demonstrations in the past. Why worry now?” Lin asked.
The general turned to face his two comrades. “I’m worried the students may muster support outside the intellectual group. There are many elements in the Party who see ideological laxity as an opportunity to make yet more changes.”
Peng Han nodded. “I share your concerns, old friend. That is why I have begun a campaign against such spiritual pollution.”
“How?”
“Trust me.” An enigmatic smile spread across Peng Han’s peasant face. “And read the evening paper.”
Guangchou, China
“Dr. Quan?”
Lili was startled awake by a hand on her shoulder. She’d succumbed to postprandiol fatigue brought on by the heat combined with a heavy lunch of steamed rice, chicken, prawns, and soup. Now she rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off her drowsiness.
“Dr.Quan?” The male voice had a soft British accent.
Lili opened her eyes and focused fully on the young man who stood over her: a tall, thin Chinese with thick black hair and intense, dark eyes.
“Where is Lieutenant Bao?”
“She’s gone off duty.”
“Off duty. What time is it?”
“Almost six p.m.”
“Shit!” It just escaped.
The young man looked perplexed. Perhaps his schoolroom English hadn’t included expletives.
“What about my papers and my passport?”
“I’ve got them,” he said calmly. “We can go now.”
“What do you mean we?”
“Didn’t Miss Bao explain?”
“Explain what?”
“You were detained until my plane arrived from Beijing.”
Lili stood up. Face-to-face, he wasn’t quite as tall as she’d first guessed — probably around five foot ten, but he was more handsome. Dressed in a short-sleeved cotton shirt, she could appreciate his sleek muscularity and broad shoulders. “Who are you?”
“Forgive my manners.” He extended a hand. “My name is Chi-Wen Zhou. Dr. Seng sent me to escort you to the Xi’an Institute.”
Lili refused the handshake. “Escort? You mean nursemaid,” she said, releasing pent-up frustration. “Why don’t you just go back to Dr. Seng and tell him I’m perfectly capable of making the trip on my own.”
Chi-Wen frowned. “I’m sorry if I have offended you, Dr. Quan. In China, travel is often quite difficult. Especially to the cities you wish to see. Dr. Seng merely wanted you to have a pleasant experience.”
“I’ve already planned my itinerary.”
“That’s no problem. Just consider me your faithful servant.”
If Chi-Wen hadn’t delivered that line so earnestly, Lili might have burst out laughing. Servant indeed. It sounded ludicrous coming from a Communist.
Chi-Wen had already picked up her suitcase. “Tonight you will stay at the White Swan Hotel. It is very nice. I will be at the Hongfeng.”
“And why is that?”
“You are a special guest. The Hongfeng Hotel is for Chinese.”
“I see you’ve taken care of everything.”
“If arrangements had not been made ahead of time, you would never have found a room. The city is full. The annual Trade Fair is taking place.”
Lili hadn’t considered this. Still, she resented being controlled. Even more, she resented Chi-Wen’s equanimity. She silently followed him as he directed her to a line leading to the exit. “What now?”
“The lady must take your ticket.”
“Why?”
“Pardon?”
“Does a used ticket have any value?”
“I suppose not.”
Feeling peevish, she said, “Then tell her I don’t have one.”
Chi-Wen didn’t respond, but Lili gestured empty-handed when they’d reached the woman and smiled.
The smile was not returned. Instead, t
he woman looked at Lili for a moment, unsure what to do, and then with a tired motion, waved them on.
Lili felt triumphant. “See, you don’t have to blindly follow rules.”
“You’re in China now,” Chi-Wen said quietly. “You should stop thinking like a Westerner.”
Beijing, China
Just before retiring for the evening, General Tong perused his copy of the official newspaper, People’s Daily. A front-page commentary responded to Sunday’s protests without describing them. He found what he was looking for at the conclusion of the article — a warning that “social turmoil can only do good to a small number of people with ulterior motives and do harm to China’s modernization.”
Peng Han’s campaign against spiritual pollution had begun. Satisfied, Tong turned out his bedside lamp and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Guangchou, China
Lili lay awake most of the night. After checking in at her hotel, Chi-Wen excused himself; he would pick her up first thing in the morning. Alone, she’d showered, called down to room service for a light dinner, and tried to sleep. But her mind wouldn’t rest. Her excitement at finally being in China was tempered by the fact that she was no longer on her own. She couldn’t help wondering how Dr. Seng had tracked her down and why? Did he have some ulterior motive or was it, as Chi-Wen had said, simply a thoughtful gesture?
And what about Chi-Wen? Who was he? Except for reporting that he worked at the Xi’an Institute, he’d barely spoken to her. He was certainly good looking — really quite handsome. In the train station and at the hotel she had noticed the flirting glances from more than one brazen young woman. But there was something about him she couldn’t quite figure out.
Lili didn’t remember which writer once said the best way to convey a man’s character with a minimum of strokes is to draw his eyes. Despite Chi-Wen’s impersonal tone and distant manner, his liquid eyes expressed a certain vulnerability Lili found intriguing. He was so different from the overly confident Chinese boys she knew at home. Different too from Dylan. Chi-Wen Zhou was clearly a complicated guy.
She yawned. Knock it off, Lili Quan. You didn’t come to China to find romance. You came to work and see a little of the country of your ancestors. Besides, remember the warning of the one-eyed fortune-teller: “Be wary of new friendships. The most cunning adversary first seeks to be your closest ally.”
Ridiculous nonsense. Still, Lili thought as she finally drifted off to sleep, she needed to be wary of this young man.
Sleep eluded Chi-Wen no less than Lili.
The black-and-white photo of her had not captured the luxuriance of her thick raven-colored hair, the lustrous glow of her skin, or her magnificent bright eyes. Standing slim and straight, she exuded a kind of natural sensuality of which she seemed totally oblivious. He had never seen a woman so lovely. Their proximity in the taxi had taken his breath away when he felt her thigh innocently pressed against his.
But he also sensed something dangerous about this brash, young American Chinese who refused to follow rules.This was China. He meant it when he told her she needed to think differently here. That is if Foreign Minister Lin’s plan was to succeed. And if Lili Quan was going to survive.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Monday
April 17, 1990
Guangchou, China
Chi-Wen had described the White Swan Hotel as “very nice.” It was much more. It had an opulence that easily rivaled Hong Kong’s Peninsula. But this was not the real China, Lili thought as she waited for Chi-Wen, who had planned a day of sightseeing. Lili yearned to leap beyond the clichés to see China as it really was, to walk along the streets and take the measure of the country in the faces of its people.
She checked her watch: ten to nine. If Chi-Wen was a good Chinese host, he’d arrive precisely at nine. She had time to leave a message at the desk and disappear to sightsee on her own. Five minutes later she crossed the graceful stone-arched bridge linking the center of Shamian Island with the mainland.
Guangchou slopes southward in the curve of the Pearl River. Amid the din of river traffic, auto horns, and bicycle bells, its diasporic citizens tread main streets flanked by rows of dilapidated four- and five-story buildings with ornate facades. Hanging plants cascade from upper stories that jut over the sidewalks, while every roof sprouts a made-in-Japan TV antenna. Lili realized many of these formerly imposing mansions had been divided into apartments, while others had been converted into tiny factories producing everything from cardboard boxes to playing cards.
Paralleling the main streets, suspended billboards — the new Great Wall of China — enticed consumers with the latest model washing machines, video cameras, even car stereos — most out of reach of the average Chinese. A radio cost the equivalent of three months’ salary; a bike — one year’s. With a new sensitivity to the nuances of marketing, the #3 Watch Factory was renamed Elegant Watches for Women; Coca-Cola once “Bite the Wax Tadpole” was now “Tasty to Evoke Happiness.”
“You have U.S. dollars?” a tousle-haired youth in tight jeans and a bright colored T-shirt whispered.
No sooner had she waved away the illicit moneychanger than two more enterprising boys offered to sell pocket calculators at “half price.”
Lili shook her head, wondering whether this kind of hustling was the result of Guangchou’s proximity to Hong Kong. She’d heard that 80 percent of the city’s population had relatives who regularly supplied them with foreign goods. Or was it simply that, as her mother often said, the Cantonese were not only smaller in stature than their northern cousins, but in integrity as well.
Just off the boulevard, she discovered a network of narrow hutongs, the distinctive alleyways evocative of old China. Lili had the sense of being drawn into the past as she entered another, quieter, world of small, clean whitewashed houses whose occupants sat on stools on the cobbled sidewalk, talking as they cleaned chickens and washed clothes. The women smiled, but did not call out. An old man pushed his grandchild in a squeaky bamboo perambulator resembling a birdcage. Along the pavement an infant urinated through trousers ritually slit open between his legs to the smiling indulgence of everyone nearby. Isolated vignettes.
An hour later, she emerged onto Beijing Road, another main thoroughfare where she wandered past movie theaters featuring Rambo and Superman, into a large bookstore filled with young people browsing among endless rows of paperbacks. In the section for translated foreign literature and Chinese fiction, they stood silently, three and four deep, their selected books held close. Only the political counter with tomes of Marx, Lenin, and Mao was uncrowded.
Lili checked the single stand of works in English where War and Peace was shelved in unlikely partnership with Dracula and Huckleberry Finn. Surprisingly, she found a translation of The Old Man and the Sea. Deciding it would make a nice souvenir, she took it to the counter where the young woman at the abacus was engrossed in an English version of The Scarlet Letter translated as A Red Letter.
“American?” the girl asked after looking up and noting Lili’s “Born in the USA” T-shirt.
“Yes. Are you enjoying that book?”
“Very much. It’s so sad.”
“Hawthorne had a lot to say about the hypocrisy of American Puritan morality.”
The girl’s wrinkled brow betrayed confusion.
Lili smiled. “The author felt that women were not treated fairly.”
“Women always suffer.” She explained that she had studied English at Zhongshan University, hoping to get a management job at one of the better hotels. “But those usually go to men.”
“I thought men and women were equal here.”
“Oh, we get equal pay, but men get better jobs.” She studied Lili for a moment. “Things are improving.” The cashier lowered her voice before adding, “but old ways must change.”
“You think they will?”
The girl looked around, though no one was near enough to hear. “There’s a demonstration at the university this afternoon. Se
e for yourself.”
“I’ll try.”
Chi-Wen walked to the counter, breathless. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why didn’t you wait for me?” he demanded.
His anger surprised Lili, but she refused to show contrition. She never asked for an escort.
“I left you a note.”
“I told you I’d come at nine.”
“I wanted to see the city on my own.”
“Didn’t you think I’d take you wherever you wanted to go?”
A few hours earlier, it hadn’t seemed such a big deal. She wasn’t sure why Chi-Wen was so upset. But then she hardly knew this young man. “I’m sorry.”
“Pay for your book,” Chi-Wen said abruptly. “I’ll wait outside.”
As he walked away, the girl at the counter leaned over and
whispered conspiratorially. “You have to teach your boyfriend or he’ll always think he’s boss.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
The girl winked. “You should teach him anyway.”
Xi’an, China
When he awakened, Ni-Fu found food waiting for him on the low table by his bed. Hot tea, a steamed bread roll, a bowl of thin rice gruel. Hardly fancy, but after a week of almost nothing, it provided the nourishment he needed. He ate slowly, savoring the break of his fast almost as much as he had savored the news last night.
Could it be true? He wanted so much to believe Dr. Seng. His heart had filled with sorrow when he learned his darling Su-Wei was dead. But then, for all these years she had been dead to him. It was the new generational link that gave him hope enough to empty his bowl. A granddaughter living in America! Lili Quan. She was coming to China. He closed his eyes and sighed. His dream. It all made sense. Now he knew to whom he must deliver the secret.
He guessed what his jailers had in mind. Greedy men, certain
that his potion would guarantee them power. He knew why they
were bringing Lili to China, why they had waited to tell him about her.
He held his tea, staring deeply into the green leaves that clung to the bottom of the cup. They were right about one thing. He was not ready to die now. Not just yet. He had to be very careful. Not for himself. It was Lili Quan whom he needed to protect. And if Seng’s words were to be believed, he had at least a week to figure out how.
Rabbit in the Moon Page 13