Mei turned her head to look at the black alarm clock ticking on her nightstand. It was late. But she couldn’t get up. She felt that she had been drained of her will. Next to the clock was a small black-and-white portrait of her father. The photo had faded over the years. After Baba died, Mama had thrown away all his things—his manuscripts, his photos, and his books. This portrait was all Mei was able to save. She had carried it with her, hidden inside a copy of Jane Eyre, to boarding school and university. She didn’t show anyone the photo, nor did she talk about her father. It was her secret, her pain, and her love.
Mei saw her father smiling at her from inside the picture frame. She heard her heart beating an echoless beat. She thought about the happiness that could have been.
The thunderstorm had brought fresh air and a comfortable temperature to the shoppers packing the pavement along College Road. Clothing stores, hair salons, and supermarkets enticed passersby with new styles and discounts. Fruit and vegetable vendors, their goods piled high on flatbed carts, shouted out prices. A peasant woman in wide-legged trousers waved a straw fan over a heap of watermelons. The flies had returned, too.
Stopped by the traffic light at Three Village Junction, Mei tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She couldn’t afford to stop; she was terribly late. She had spent too much time washing, drying, and styling her long straight hair. She had put on makeup and then taken it off again.
Why did she even care? She shook her head. She never had when she was at university. Then she was an outsider who never wanted to be in. What had changed?
At the end of College Road, Mei turned north along the high walls of Tsinghua University. The traffic had thinned. Cyclists rode at a leisurely pace in the shade of the aspen trees. Mei passed a group of students on their bicycles. It looked like they were going to the West Mountains for the weekend.
She remembered traveling on this very road as a student. Peking University, her alma mater, and Tsinghua University were sister universities, so by tradition, Mei’s class was linked with a friendship class consisting of forty-five electrical engineers from Tsinghua University. The engineers, mostly men, enthusiastically organized friendship disco parties; there were a lot of girls in Mei’s Chinese literature class. She remembered sitting on the back of Yaping’s bicycle, her long hair flying in the wind. There was warmth in the air on those nights, and the stars flickered like eyes. Streetlamps glowed softly through the jasmine-scented breeze. The night was pure, and crickets sang under the pagoda by Weiming Lake.
Over the years, Big Sister Hui had brought Mei news of Yaping: He got married; he finished his MBA; he started working; he bought a house.
From time to time, Mei still thought about him, tried to imagine him dressed in a business suit, riding the el train. She wondered whether he still wore the same pair of black-rimmed glasses. Sometimes she remembered his intelligent eyes and shy smile. When she hated him, she imagined him old, no longer slender or gentle. But most of the time, she couldn’t picture him at all. The names didn’t mean anything to her: Chicago, Evanston, North Shore. She had no image of them, nor could she picture Yaping’s wife or their life together. She turned on Qinghua West Road and caught sight of the Old Summer Palace.
Since their graduation, Big Sister Hui had organized yearly reunions. Big Sister Hui had stayed in the department, first as a graduate student and then as a lecturer. At first Mei hadn’t gone to the reunions because she didn’t want to talk about Yaping or their breakup. Then she was too busy. After having spent a year on a rotation program in various departments in the Ministry, Mei was picked by the head of public relations to be his personal assistant. Her academic credentials, her intelligence, and the fact that she could write well in both Chinese and English made her a desirable candidate for the job. She was allocated a one-bedroom apartment and high-profile responsibilities. She became desirable in the eyes of matchmakers. They introduced her to sons of high-ranking officials and rising stars of the diplomatic services. She went with them to restaurants, concerts, movie premieres, and state banquets. She sat with their parents in airy apartments overlooking Renaissance Boulevard. She spent her spare time getting to know them so they could get to know her.
But everything had changed when she resigned from the Ministry. People with whom she had worked for years and thought of as friends shunned her.
Maybe this was why she cared so much about today, thought Mei, about how she looked and what her classmates might think of her. These people were her old friends. Though she never seemed to need them before, she needed them now.
THREE
BIG SISTER HUI WAS WAITING for Mei at the main entrance of the Old Summer Palace.
“I can’t believe it! You, the person with the luxury of a car, are late. We’ve been waiting for forty minutes. Ding had to take Little Po inside so she could have a run around. A four-year-old kid is like a dog. If she doesn’t get her run in the park, she bites.”
Big Sister Hui had lost weight, showing curves that Mei had not known she possessed. She was clearly pleased with her new shape and had wrapped it in a tight-fitting dress of rainbow colors.
“I’m sorry,” Mei apologized. “I overslept.”
“It’s the undisciplined life of a singleton. You ought to get married. It would do you good.”
Big Sister Hui took Mei’s arm, and they walked into the park like old girlfriends, arm in arm. A light breeze skipped across the long grass in the dried-up lake. Somewhere in the woods, broken columns stood, half hidden. Farther on, piles of fallen stones were scattered by the winding paths. Before it was burned down by British and French troops during the Second Opium War more than a hundred years before, scholars had likened the Old Summer Palace to Versailles. Mei had seen pictures of Versailles in books, yet standing among the ruins, she could never imagine the palace’s former splendor.
“So, how is life, princess?” Big Sister Hui was jolly, as usual.
“Why do you always call me ‘princess’?”
“Well, if you had married any of your princes of revolution while you were at the Ministry…”
“Not that again.”
“Okay, okay.” Big Sister Hui put up her hands in surrender. “Tell me about your work.”
“Work is going well. So many people come to see me for this and that. I think there are two things that people have too much of these days: money and sexual affairs.”
“I’m not surprised. Rich people are everywhere. Just look at the traffic. Motorbikes were the big deal when we were at university. Remember Lan? She had a boyfriend who had a motorbike, and we all thought he was a criminal.”
They both laughed.
“I’m glad things are finally going well for you,” Big Sister Hui said. “What a terrible ordeal you had to go through at the Ministry. You didn’t deserve that.”
Mei nodded and tried to smile.
The road forked out. They left the path and went up a small hill. Climbing soon made them hot. “What a heat! It’s only spring. The old sky is certainly messed up this year,” Big Sister Hui said, panting. Mei felt the dry grass being crushed beneath her feet. When they reached the top of the slope, they looked down on a meadow in the valley. A group of people were assembled there, sitting on plastic sheets.
“This is where we came to celebrate our graduation,” said Big Sister Hui, basking in the sunshine. “Do you remember?”
A large shell-shaped stone that had once belonged to an ancient ornate fountain stood in the middle of the meadow. Its white marble gleamed.
“Of course,” said Mei softly.
Suddenly, the memory of that day was with her again. They were sitting around the remains of a picnic, smoking cigarettes and singing. Sparrow Li played guitar. Yaping read one of his poems. Mei was twenty-two years old, graduating at the top of the class with a plump job at the Ministry of Public Security.
“Hey!” someone shouted from the party, dragging her mind back to the present.
“It’s Fat Boy.” Big Sister
Hui waved, and they started down the hill.
Sparrow Li was sitting on the plastic sheet, smoking, drinking beer out of a can, and playing guitar. He looked even smaller and thinner than Mei remembered. His face, which had never looked young, now clearly showed age. “You are late,” he said.
“It’s not my fault. It’s the princess here.” Big Sister Hui flung her round body onto the sheet and pointed a finger at Mei.
“Big Sister Hui!” protested Mei.
Fat Boy said hello to the newcomers and offered them drinks. Mei took a bottle of water. “How are you, Li?” She sat down next to Sparrow Li, causing him to blush. Everyone knew that Sparrow Li had always been in love with Mei.
“I’m going to Shenzhen. I’ve had enough of Beijing and Xinhua News Agency,” Sparrow Li declared.
“What?” Fat Boy shouted. “You didn’t tell me! You are giving up the Steel Bowl for a private local newspaper? Are you out of your mind?”
“What’s so great about Xinhua News Agency? We have no housing, and the pay is lousy. When we graduated, it was all about getting a job with the big ministries. Now it’s about money. If you are rich, you are somebody. I’m going to be the chief editor and make a lot of money.”
“Don’t be naive.” Big Sister Hui popped open a can of Tsingtao beer. “What’s money compared to power? Mei had a beautiful one-bedroom apartment when she worked for the Ministry of Public Security. She traveled in official cars and dined in the best restaurants. She wasn’t rich, but didn’t she live a good life! Look at your chief. He doesn’t need to be rich. He gets everything he needs and more from his job.”
“Well, I’m never going to be the chief of Xinhua News Agency. It takes a special kind to climb the power pole. It’s not me. I am going to be rich. I’ll have my own car and my own apartment.”
“I don’t need a car. But I would like to have a roof over my head.” Fat Boy sighed. “Beijing Daily is much worse than Xinhua News Agency. It doesn’t even give me a dorm room. I’m thirty years old and still living with my parents. So I told the matchmakers that I’m only interested in girls whose work units have housing.”
“In Special Economic Zones like Shenzhen, people like us will be able to afford our own apartments.” Sparrow Li puffed on his cigarette.
“What about your Beijing residence?” Mei asked Li. “You’ll lose it if you leave. Don’t you ever want to come back?”
Mei felt sad. Sparrow Li was always the hopeless, suffering romantic. He did things out of passion, sometimes without due consideration. Because of that, he had never fit in with the pragmatic Chinese way of life. In some ways, Mei felt a close connection to him. They were both outsiders, albeit different types. Sparrow Li longed for approval and acceptance by others. Mei, on the other hand, thought that no one understood her and so had grown not to care about what they thought of her.
“Who doesn’t want to come back?” a thick voice roared from behind them.
Everyone turned around and saw Guang’s six-feet-three frame and black-smudged face towering over them. He had been working on the little gas stove on the other side of the stone shell.
“It’s Sparrow Li. He is going to Shenzhen,” said Fat Boy, shaking his head.
“Good for him,” said Guang, sitting down. He fanned Sparrow Li’s cigarette smoke back into his face. “You’ll finally be with people your own size.” He laughed at his own joke. Although Sparrow Li came from the land of giants—the northern province of Dongbei—he was the smallest in their class.
Big Sister Hui smacked Guang’s back. “Don’t be an ass.”
The blow produced no effect. Guang laughed again. “But don’t think about running over to Hong Kong. Hong Kong is coming back to the motherland in a few months, so we’d catch you.”
Guang’s wife produced a can of beer. He opened it, took a sip, and spat. “You didn’t chill it, like I told you!”
“It was chilled when I bought it,” his little wife answered. She spoke in a slight voice, avoiding his eyes.
“Get me a bottle of water!” he shouted at her.
Mei threw Guang a reproachful look. But he ignored it.
At last Big Sister Hui’s husband, Ding, came with Little Po and the food bags. They had to navigate the hill slowly with the laden bicycle. Guang’s wife cheered up and went to unload the food to make lunch. Ding chatted with her by the stove. Little Po wanted to play with her mama, so Big Sister Hui took her to find flowers in the grass.
The rest of them spread out plates, bowls, chopsticks, cold cuts, steamed buns, and cooked rice. When Guang went to find his cigarettes, Mei followed him.
At the time of their graduation eight years earlier, the Hainan Project was just taking off. The government’s plan was to build the nation’s biggest free economic zone on the island of Hainan, with five-star hotels, international resorts, and modern industries. Guang, being an enthusiastic Party member, answered the first call and went to Hainan straight after graduation. The experience had made him bitter.
“Guang, why do you treat your wife like that?” Mei asked.
Guang lit a cigarette and puffed. “Ah, I shouldn’t have married her.” He leaned against a young aspen tree. “I was wasting my life in Hainan. We met, and I thought at least if I got married, I’d have achieved one thing. I can understand what Sparrow Li is doing. I’ve done that, I’ve chased money. For heaven’s sake, I spent six years in Hainan. Get rich? Bull! No one got rich except the damn officials. There was so much corruption that millions of yuan just disappeared. If you were a little guy like me, what did you get? Six years of your life gone, and a wife you can’t stand.”
“That’s not your fault. The whole Hainan project was corrupt.”
“That’s no consolation to me, is it?”
Mei shook her head. “No. But is battering your wife any consolation?”
“Oh, bull.” Guang threw down his cigarette. “Why can’t you be kind for once? Give me a little sympathy.” He ground out the cigarette with his foot and strode off.
Lunch and beer were set on the picnic sheet, and they all gathered around. The sun had risen high in the sky. The day was becoming hot.
The old classmates swapped news about life and work. Under the watchful eye of Big Sister Hui, everyone avoided the topic of Mei’s departure from the Ministry of Public Security. It seemed Big Sister Hui had warned them that Mei still felt hurt by it. Mei smiled at her friend and thanked her with her eyes.
“Lan will be coming later,” Big Sister Hui informed them.
“Is she the rich mistress?” Guang’s little wife asked.
Guang ignored her. “I ran into her once at the Lufthansa Center. She had loads of shopping bags, and her chauffeur was carrying them for her.”
Big Sister Hui nodded. “I’ve met her man. He’s special, someone who is going to do very well one day, maybe like Mei’s brother-in-law. He bought an apartment for Lan and another one for her parents. Her parents have moved to Beijing now.”
“See, this is what I mean,” exclaimed Sparrow Li. “You don’t need a job with a Beijing residence if you have money. You can buy your own apartment and pay for your own health care.”
“But is he going to marry her?”
“Oh, Mei.” Big Sister Hui laughed. “He already has a wife and daughter.”
“Is she pretty? Lan, I mean. She must be,” said the little wife.
“Not as pretty as Mei,” said Fat Boy.
“Then how did she get so lucky?” shrieked the little wife.
“Good question,” they all murmured.
“For goodness’ sake, stop envying her. Is there no one here who thinks this is wrong?” Mei cried.
“I don’t see anything wrong.” Guang sat up. “She is well educated, intelligent, and good for his business. He obviously appreciates her. The wife benefits, too. The more successful her husband gets, the better off she is. If it doesn’t work out, Lan gets to keep her apartments and money. It’s a good arrangement, if you ask me.”
From beyond the woods, a breeze had picked up the sweet scent of pine oil and spring leaves. Fat Boy lay down on his back and traced the traveling clouds. Sparrow Li played Spanish love songs on his guitar.
Mei thought again about the time of their graduation, when they had come to this meadow. They had been young and pure, their hearts filled with ideals. They’d had dreams and been ready for the world. They had sung the first Chinese rock-and-roll hit, Cujian’s “I Have Nothing.”
She truly had nothing back then, not a car nor a business nor an apartment to herself. But she’d been happy. She’d been in love.
FOUR
DRIVING HOME FROM THE REUNION, Mei could not get Yaping out of her mind. Having seen their old friends after so long seemed to have made his absence, which she thought she had buried, sharp again.
Mei had noticed Yaping on the first day at university. He was a surprisingly tall boy from the south, with sensitive eyes, a shy smile, and soft hair that fell over his forehead. It did not take long for everyone to see that Yaping was the most talented in their class.
Mei and Yaping started going out in their third year. They discussed literature by Weiming Lake. They took trips to the West Mountains to visit temples and shrines. They went shopping in Wangfujing and Xidan, to browse through books and eat traditional Beijing specialties. They watched movies in the university hall, the best place in Beijing to see both imported and avant-garde Chinese films. Together they saw Love Story and Roman Holiday, the only two films from non-Communist countries. After Red Sorghum won the Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival, director Zhang Yimou took his film to Peking University. Following the showing, the director and his leading actress came onstage. Mei still remembered how beautiful Gong Li looked and how everyone cheered.
But Mei’s mother, Ling Bai, did not approve of Yaping. She thought him good-looking—“in a soft southern river-town-boy way”—and very bright, but he came from the provinces, which meant he would most likely have to go back there after graduation. Ling Bai never would have allowed Mei to move out of Beijing.
The Eye of Jade Page 2