The Nine Fold Heaven

by Mingmei Yip

  Director Chen also said that after the girl is released from Shanghai Women’s and Children’s Hospital, they’d watch her more carefully and not let her go off by herself.

  After I finished reading the article, I knew exactly what I had to do next—find and rescue Peiling.

  31

  A Hospital Visit

  I explained to Jinying about Peiling, how she had cared for the baby we now knew was ours, that we might owe his life to her. And that without Jinjin, she’d be all alone. Even though he had never met her, Jinying shared my concern and encouraged me to try to find her. So I left Jinjin in his care and set out for the Shanghai Women’s and Children’s Hospital, which turned out to be a massive red brick building situated in the bustling Xujiahui municipality.

  Patients, visitors, and uniformed staff milled around its spacious lobby smelling of medicine and sickness. I hurried to the reception area and asked for Peiling’s room number. I signed my name, a fake one, of course, on a printed form and listed “aunt” as my relation to the patient.

  The middle-aged, white-uniformed receptionist smiled. “So you’re her relative? Guess you’re the only one. That’s why she’s living in an orphanage. But she became famous overnight, you know that? No one else has come to see her, so say something nice and comforting to the poor girl, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will. Thank you, miss.” I was surprised, and pleased, to find someone who actually seemed to care in such a big, impersonal institution.

  I left the reception area, dashed to the second floor, and stepped inside the first room. Women in hospital pajamas filled cots and chairs—sleeping, talking, staring, sobbing, grimacing. There were about fifteen women, but no child among them.

  I asked an elderly woman with a pained face, “Ma’am, did you see a twelve-year-old girl here in this room?”

  “We’re all old people here. Why would a young girl have anything to do with us who already have one foot inside the coffin? Ha, ha, ha, ha!” She laughed, seemingly happy with her grim joke.

  “Can you try to remember? She is small and wears very thick glasses.”

  Seconds later, a smile of recollection flitted across her wrinkled face. “Ha! Maybe now I remember. Yes, a girl with thick glasses. But she’s blind and too little to be twelve, maybe eight or nine.”

  Of course I should have remembered Peiling looked much smaller than her age.

  “Is she here?” I hoped that my little friend had just left for the restroom.

  “No, she left.”

  “You mean she’s been discharged from the hospital? Someone downstairs just told me she’s in this room.”

  “No, she ran away.”

  I felt a small jolt. “But how do you know?”

  “Last night she told me she was going to run away, but if a doctor or nurse asked for her, tell them that she’s using the bathroom and will be back soon. Ha-ha, but you know, soon for her is going to be never. Little liar!”

  “But you should have told the doctor or nurse! The girl is blind, how can she get around by herself?”

  “Why should I? It’s her business, not mine. Right?”

  I asked, “How badly is she hurt?”

  “Ha! We all hurt, that’s why we’re here, miss. Who are you?”

  “Never mind, thank you anyway,” I said, then hurriedly left the depressing room and the octogenarian.

  Back in the lobby, I paced around, trying to clear my mind and think. Where would Peiling be, and why had she left? Since she couldn’t really see, I believed she wouldn’t go far. I stopped by a telephone booth and called Compassionate Grace, but a stern woman’s voice said that Peiling had not been transferred back to the orphanage.

  I hurried out of the hospital, hailed a tricycle rickshaw, and asked the puller to take me around to places where my little friend might be. But Shanghai is huge and densely populated. We went up and down some of the major streets, but I soon realized that looking for a person in the huge city was like scooping up a needle in the sea.

  Feeling discouraged, I asked the coolie take me to the Huangpu River. The soothing sight of the forever flowing river had often been a great comfort to me in my difficult life.

  I paid, got off the vehicle, and went straight to my little sanctuary behind a gigantic statue of a goddess where I knew I’d be completely left alone. As in the past, I did some vocal gymnastics to warm up my voice, then began singing.

  “Nighttime Shanghai,” “Wandering Songstress,” “Looking for You” slipped from between my lips as I watched the reflection of the sun on the gentle waves. The music settled my confused mind. Music had taught me not only to feel, but also to see that the world is not as miserable as I had thought. Just as I finished and felt a little better, I was surprised to hear a familiar voice.

  “Big Sister, I really love your voice. I’d like to hear you sing every day…”

  I turned and was overjoyed to see that the person I’d been seeking had found me—Peiling!

  She sat on a bench behind some trees that hid her from where I stood, looking very frail and tired. I hurried over to her and sat down.

  “Peiling, why did you run away?” I didn’t have the heart to ask if she’d meant to kill herself.

  “I’ll never go back to that horrible place.”

  “I understand. But why did you come here?”

  “Because you told me you love to sing by the river and watch the sun rise. I wanted to come where you had been. I can’t see, but I can smell the river and feel the sun. Maybe the river will help me be a better singer, just like you.”

  “But how did you come here?”

  “I asked a woman visitor at the hospital to take me here.”

  “And she did?”

  Peiling nodded. “I told her that I lost my way and my mother will be here waiting for me. Remember, Big Sister? You told me you always come here to sing behind this statue so you’ll be left alone.”

  I’d underestimated this little blind girl. Like me, she got her way through cunning. But unlike me, she had no training and, luckily for her, was not taken up by criminals.

  “And she believed you?”

  She nodded. “I also paid her.”

  “How did you get the money?”

  “A nurse gave it to me.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Because I told her I’ve been starved and beaten at the orphanage. She took pity on me and gave me money.”

  “Peiling, I know you’re very sad. Tell me the truth, did you jump to try…” I couldn’t finish my sentence, “to kill yourself?”

  Her near-sightless eyes seemed to stare at the river. “Baobao disappeared. Somebody must have stolen him, so I won’t ever see him again. I can’t live without Baobao…” Tears flowed from her injured eyes.

  Love for this child surged in my heart. I could not help but again think of my own attempted suicide not long ago in Paris. I’d just seen Madame Butterfly in which Cio-Cio San kills herself when betrayed by her lover Captain Pinkerton.

  After the opera as Jinying and I were strolling along the Seine, I felt completely hopeless. I asked my lover to walk ahead of me, then immediately leaped over the wall into the freezing Seine. But he jumped in and rescued me. His love returned me to this earth.

  I put my arms around the crying girl.

  Sniffling, Peiling said, “Big Sister, was my name in the newspapers, did I turn famous because I jumped?”

  I didn’t answer her question, but said, “Peiling, you must be tired. Let’s go home.”

  I realized after the words came out that I had just decided to take in the blind girl to live with Jinying and myself. Taking Peiling’s hand and heading toward the main street, a famous poem by Xin Qiji flashed across my mind:

  Looking for you a thousand times in the dense crowd,

  I turned, and your face suddenly appears under the fading light.

  Inside the taxi, Peiling grabbed my hand tightly in hers as if I were her long-lost mother. Tears filled my ey
es, but I blinked them back. In a whisper I explained that I had discovered that her “Baobao” was actually Jinjin, my lost son, and that she would be seeing him in a few minutes. I also told her that Jinjin’s father was waiting with him for us. She remained silent, either confused or not believing me.

  When we stepped into our hotel room, Jinying was sitting on the bed beside a calmly sleeping Jinjin but looked extremely upset—and angry. He stood up to greet—or scold—me.

  “I worried until my heart rotted and I can’t tell anyone or call the police. Where have you been?” He pointed to Peiling. “What’s happening here? Who is she?”

  “Shhh…” I gave him a kiss on his lips.

  Jinjin was sound asleep in the bed, oblivious to all that was going on. I went up to plant a kiss on his rosy cheek too.

  Peiling was still tugging at my sleeve, looking tense.

  “Jinying, please calm down and let me explain.”

  But he refused to lower his voice. “Where have you been? Why did you take so long?”

  Peiling’s frightened voice rose up in the room’s stale air. “Big Sister, who is this? What’s happening?”

  I lowered my head so I could whisper into her ear. “Everything’s fine, Peiling, I’m just talking to my husband.” Though he was not quite my husband yet. “Why don’t you sit down and rest?”

  Jinying kept watching me with bafflement as I led Peiling to sit on a chair, then came back to sit down next to him.

  He studied the little girl, then blurted out, “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Sorry, sir, but I’m blind,” Peiling responded softly.

  Now Jinying looked horrified. “Oh, I’m so sorry, little girl…. Are you…?”

  I blinked my eyes to signal him to just shut up.

  But he said in a heated whisper, his tone still upset, “Then can you tell me where you’ve been—and who she is?”

  I explained to Jinying that Peiling was the little blind girl I had mentioned to him earlier. I reminded him that she had been taking care of Jinjin and that without her care, Jinjin might right now be dying of neglect like so many of the other babies at the orphanage. When I finished, Jinying looked totally stunned.

  He leaned close to my ear and lowered his voice. “But, Camilla, why bring her back here?”

  Before I could respond, Peiling smiled toward me. “Big Sister, I knew from your voice that you are Miss Camilla, even though you pretended not to be. But I was afraid if the staff knew, they wouldn’t let you visit me anymore.”

  This little girl was a lot smarter than I had realized. Her words penetrated deep into me, so, though I opened my mouth, no words came out. Somehow this naive child had made me realize that I had been denying my real self my entire life. Who was the real me anyway? An orphan, a spy, a singer, a heartless assassin, a contortionist, a knife-throwing expert, a mother who wouldn’t give up on her baby—or all of the above?

  Overcome, I went to the bed, collapsed next to my baby, and cried. Probably awakened by my weight next to him and my sobbing, Jinjin suddenly woke up and joined me in the tearful cacophony.

  Jinying sat down on the bed next to me and put his arm around my shoulder. “Please, Camilla, I can’t bear to see you sad.”

  I wiped my tears but remained silent.

  Peiling’s frightened voice piped up again. “Miss Camilla, don’t be sad. Did I do something wrong? Do you not want me anymore? Who’s crying?”

  “Don’t worry, Peiling, I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Then I turned to Jinying. “Have you fed Jinjin while I was away?”

  Peiling tilted her head and asked, “Is that really Baobao?”

  “Yes, Peiling,” I said, then picked up Jinjin and held him out to her. “Peiling, can you hold him for a while?”

  “It really is Baobao!!” Peiling cradled her “reincarnated” Baobao in her thin arms. I knew that it would take time for her to accept him as Jinjin.

  I smiled. “Yes, it’s Baobao, but his real name is Jinjin.”

  Jinjin had stopped crying and was smiling happily in his little caregiver’s embrace. Peiling lowered her head to kiss her, really my, baby. “Oh, Baobao, it’s really you!”

  In response, Jinjin started to cry again.

  I turned to his father. “Jinying, have you fed our baby?”

  “Of course, but we’re out of milk… I was very worried about you and stayed here in case you were in trouble and might call. I’ll go out right now and get some.”

  After Jinying left, Peiling asked, “Big Sister, were you the one who took Baobao—“

  “It’s Jinjin, Peiling.”

  “Were you the one who took Jinjin from the orphanage during the middle of the night?”

  “Yes, I’m his mother.”

  “Wah! Jinjin has a famous singer mother!”

  Soon Jinying returned with bottles of fresh milk for the baby and congee with Chinese doughnuts for us. Peiling ate ravenously; then she and Jinjin curled up against each other and were soon fast asleep. In a low voice I explained to Jinying about the little girl. She had won my affection by her musical talent and especially by her gentle nature. I could not allow myself to send her back to the orphanage. It was karma that she was there to care for Jinjin, so now it would be our karma to care for her. Jinying didn’t argue, though he did not look particularly happy either.

  But I knew he would come to share my love for Peiling in time.

  32

  A Disturbing Encounter and the Other Woman

  Now that we had Jinjin and Peiling, we decided to leave Shanghai and its dangers as soon as possible. The next step was to book steamer tickets back to Hong Kong.

  But there were some loose ends that needed to be taken care of here, since we might never be able to return to China. Most important was drawing out the money sitting in Master Lung’s bank accounts. I now regarded this as taking an inheritance, rather than as theft. With the old master in the world beyond, the money belonged to the young master, Jinying. No doubt if Jinying applied his legal knowledge to taking this to court, we would eventually get the money—if we were not assassinated first, and after substantial deductions for bribing the judge and other officials involved. I had survived by being practical, so I decided to simply take the money and run.

  The next day, I used Wang’s chop to sign the documents necessary to transfer the money to the account I had opened in Hong Kong. Of course, the transaction might not have been so smooth had I not slipped a thick envelope across the bank manager’s desk. There was still much more than enough for Jinying and I. So to gain merit for Wang and Lung to get better treatment in hell—and lessen the chance of their ghosts coming back to harass me—I arranged to give substantial sums to charities, including Compassionate Grace and Sacred Heart.

  I assumed that Big Brother Wang had already died—the herbalist who sold the toxic herb powder was well-known for the invariable effectiveness of his concoctions. Yet, I could not find any mention about him in the newspapers. Then, shortly before our ship was about to carry us away from Shanghai, I opened the Leisure News to read:

  The Red Demons’ Red Proves Unlucky

  We have just been informed from a reliable source that Big Brother Wang, of whom we have often written in this column, has passed from the underworld to underground. Can the big boss scare the King of Hell? Will the gang wars continue in the realm of the dead? That might be interesting to watch, but we prefer to stay in this world for now. Too bad we can’t place bets on this one!

  All of us Chinese believe that red is the luckiest color. Who doesn’t wear red on New Year, give out red envelopes of lucky money, and write auspicious sayings on red paper?

  But the “red” in the Red Demons’ name did not bring good fortune to Big Brother Wang, who has early departed for his immortal’s journey. All Shanghai remembers his lavish sixtieth birthday banquet that ended with a bang—actually, many bangs, from a shoot-out. Wang escaped intact, but sickened and died after a few days.

  The gang
members have been keeping it secret, hoping to continue to use his intimidating name for their various extortions.

  The rumor goes that Wang died of food poisoning. But no one else at his table got sick. We’ve heard that he ate a steaming fish on the plate that had been magically transformed on the stage from one swimming in a bowl. Could there be a poisonous relationship between the two fishes? And what about the young couple sitting next to Wang—what were they doing there? My pink-clad girls and myself will try to find out.

  Who will be our next number one boss? Place your bets now!

  More to follow…

  Rainbow Chang

  I really had to salute the nerve of this gossip columnist, who did not hesitate even to make fun of a dead person. Didn’t she fear his ghost’s revenge, or that she would offend her superstitious readers? How had she come to suspect that Wang’s death had something to do with the fish? Was she about to reveal the identity of the “young couple”? This possibility was yet one more reason to speed up our departure from Shanghai.

  Now that Jinjin had come back to his mama, he no longer appeared to scold me in my dreams. But then I had another kind of disturbing dream.

  Under the mysterious moon in a deserted area, like a wandering ghost I slowly approached a red-roofed temple. When I was near its entrance, something sparkling on the ground caught my eye. The object seemed to beg me to take a closer look. It appeared to be a watch with its two hands merging in one indicating midnight. But when I looked closer, I was shocked to see that the watch was worn on the wrist of a severed hand!

  I screamed, but my feet felt too paralyzed to run. They were rooted to the ground like the entangled roots of a thousand-year-old tree. As I was wondering what to do, a bald head, shiny in the moonlight, leaned out from the temple door to study me. I couldn’t see the man’s face, but realized from his bald head that he must be a monk.