Chinese Cinderella and the Secret Dragon Society

by Adeline Yen Mah

  The long silence was embarrassing. He finally coughed nervously and said, ‘How tall you’ve grown! Did you have a good time at your aunt’s place?’

  ‘It was all right,’ I mumbled morosely.

  ‘Are you glad to be home?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Thank you so much, Father,’ I said sarcastically, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’re home too,’ he said absentmindedly as he went out of the door.

  I climbed the stairs to my room, sat on the bed and started to cry. I thought of everything I had experienced since I had last seen him: my wonderful kung fu lessons at the academy, my weekly column in the newsletter, my great teacher Grandma Wu, my new friends, David, Sam and Marat, my secret double life, my journey to Nan Tian and the exciting rescue of the American airmen… Yet, in spite of it all, the only thing I’d ever really wanted was that my father should think well of me.

  *

  I went to school as usual. Nobody seemed to notice anything different about me, except my best friend, Wu Chun-mei. She and I were in the habit of telling each other everything we did when we were apart, so she kept asking where I’d been and what I’d done while I was away. Not knowing what to say without lying, I finally told her I’d gone to help a sick relative who had broken her leg. I felt terrible saying this and my hands got sweaty, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  As soon as school was over, I dashed to the bookstall. To my delight, I found Grandma Wu and David reading on the bench. They greeted me warmly.

  ‘Grandma Wang has gone to do some errands, but she’ll be back in an hour. David was given the afternoon off from school today. He wanted to accompany me. Sam and Marat asked me to say hello.’

  ‘I daren’t stay too long,’ I said. ‘I haven’t seen my stepmother yet. She was still asleep when I left for school this morning. But please, Grandma Wu, when you write to Big Aunt, will you inform her that Father has taken me back home? Ask her when she’s coming back to Shanghai. Tell her she can write to me directly from now on at my father’s address. No more pigeon mail.’

  ‘I received a letter by pigeon from your aunt just before lunch today,’ Grandma Wu said. ‘I’m afraid Grandma Liu has taken a turn for the worse. Big Aunt says she won’t be back till the beginning of June at the earliest.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ I groaned. ‘What about the crew of The Ruptured Duck and poor Mr Lawson’s leg? Did they get away from Linhai?’

  ‘The sad news is that Mr Lawson’s leg had to be amputated,’ Grandma Wu said. ‘The good news is that he is making an excellent recovery from his operation. All five airmen from The Ruptured Duck are being flown to Chungking as we speak.’

  ‘Yes! Fantastic! We did it!’ David and I couldn’t contain our joy. ‘But what about the other Americans, the ones who were captured by the Japanese? Any news?’ I asked anxiously.

  ‘Marat got another secret letter from Ivanov today…’ Grandma Wu began.

  ‘Did he write it in invisible ink again?’ I interrupted breathlessly.

  ‘Of course!’ David replied. ‘Only this time Grandma Wu let us take turns holding the hot iron above the paper!’

  ‘Lucky you! Wish I had been there too!’ I turned to Grandma Wu. ‘How is Ivanov? Does he know where the Americans are being held?’

  ‘According to Ivanov, eight Americans were caught and they’re all in Bridge House,’ Grandma Wu reported sadly. ‘He drew a diagram of the layout of the prison cell they occupy. Their cell has a barred window that opens into the prison garden. We’re trying to work out a rescue plan.’

  ‘In his letter, Ivanov also wrote that Major General Yonoshita, the commander of Bridge House, has promoted him to be his personal interpreter because of his language skills and good behaviour,’ David volunteered. ‘Ivanov still works seven days a week, but has been given permission to cook his own food. And Yonoshita allows him one visitor every two weeks.’

  ‘How lucky for Marat and Ivanov!’ I said. ‘The two of them should do everything they can to stay friendly with Yonoshita. Perhaps they can persuade the major general into treating the Americans better.’

  ‘Ivanov wants to be Yonoshita’s friend,’ Grandma Wu agreed, ‘but the friendship has to develop naturally so Yonoshita won’t get suspicious.’

  I didn’t normally take the lead, but I suddenly felt clear and confident about what needed to be done. Perhaps my months of training, and my adventures in Nan Tian had made me strong.

  ‘Marat told me once that Ivanov is a fabulous cook. He can turn the simplest vegetables into great-tasting dishes,’ I suggested. ‘Everyone likes to eat. I bet the food at Bridge House is pretty awful. Marat should take him lots of vegetables and herbs so Ivanov has something decent to cook with. If Ivanov starts cooking for Yonoshita, they’ll gradually become friends.’

  ‘Good idea! You should develop a rescue plan around it,’ Grandma Wu agreed, looking at her watch. ‘You’d better be on your way home if your Niang hasn’t seen you yet. She’s probably waiting for you.’

  I was so happy about the escape of Lawson and his crew to Chungking that I ran all the way home in high spirits. I popped into the kitchen to say hello to Ah Yee first. The most delicious aroma greeted my nostrils from a pot of mushroom soup bubbling on the stove. Then I saw a colourful display of green peppers, purple aubergine and bright red tomatoes on the kitchen counter.

  ‘Something smells Wonderful! I’ve really missed your cooking, Ah Yee! I’m starving!’

  ‘In spite of the war,’ Ah Yee said, ‘I still found all this in the market today. I’m making you a special dinner to celebrate your homecoming.’

  ‘Oh, Ah Yee. My mouth is watering already. Can I have a tiny piece of tomato? Yum! It’s so sweet.’

  ‘What a shame I can’t take you home to show you the village where I grew up,’ Ah Yee sighed. ‘You should see the size of my tomatoes. When I was your age, I’d climb up the bamboo lattices and pick the biggest and reddest tomato growing on the vine.’

  ‘Bamboo lattices?’ I asked. ‘What for?’

  ‘Don’t you know anything, little city girl?’ she teased. ‘The tomato plant is a vine. Vines need to be supported in order to grow, because their stems are so weak. In my village, we’d build lattices out of bamboo and suspend ropes between the poles for vines to grow on.’

  ‘What else grows on vines?’ I asked eagerly. ‘Any other tasty vegetables?’

  ‘Lots of vegetables grow on vines: string beans, sweet peas, bitter melons, cucumbers and squashes to name a few. But now, Miss Ye Xian,’ she lowered her voice to a whisper, ‘your Niang wants to see you. Be careful! You’ll find her in the living room, listening to the radio.’

  As I walked gingerly towards the living room with my heart racing, I could hear a sombre male voice reporting the news in Mandarin.

  ‘This is a special announcement from the Kempeitei at Bridge House in Shanghai. According to our sister radio station JOAK in Japan, sixteen American bombers bombed four Japanese cities on 18 April. They indiscriminately destroyed schools and hospitals, killing and wounding civilians and a large number of schoolchildren. This inhuman attack on Japanese cultural and residential establishments has aroused widespread indignation among the Japanese people.

  ‘After the raid, the American planes escaped to China. Some of the airmen parachuted out and landed in Japanese-occupied territory. Although many have been captured, a few are still at large, including five airmen who crash-landed on Nan Tian Island.

  ‘If anyone is discovered hiding American fliers, they will be executed and their family severely punished.

  ‘We advise all citizens to be vigilant and to report any knowledge of the whereabouts of these American criminals immediately to the Japanese authorities. A reward of one million Chinese yuan will be given to anyone giving information leading to their capture…’

  Niang looked up and saw me standing fearfully at the door. She turned off the radio and told me to come in.

  She was perfectly coiffed and she
athed in a bright green, silk Chinese dress. Diamonds sparkled on her hands, ears and wrist. Her long fingernails were painted red, and the strong fragrance of her expensive French perfume filled the air.

  The memory of her sharp nails pressing against my throat came back to me like a bad dream as I greeted her. I felt a wave of nausea, and longed to escape, but dared not move. Ah Yee came in with two cups of tea and gave me a sympathetic look.

  ‘Sit down!’ Niang commanded.

  I sat at the edge of my seat and looked down at my feet.

  ‘Where were you all these past weeks?’ she asked.

  ‘At Big Aunt’s place,’ I lied.

  ‘All the time you were gone?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Did you go to school every day?’

  ‘Almost every day.’

  ‘What did you do when you weren’t at school?’

  ‘Read books and listened to the radio.’

  ‘Was Big Aunt with you all the time?’

  ‘Most of the time…’

  ‘You’re lying!’ she screamed.

  Her voice was so shrill that it made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. More than that, it made me ache in some place that was buried deep within me. Mingled with my fear and my urgent wish to get away from her was a mysterious and inexplicable yearning: a chord of memory almost as ancient as life itself. I realized with a shock that in spite of everything, I still wished to please her. Yet, at the same time, I knew that she was evil.

  Mercifully, at that moment, the phone rang.

  Niang gave me a baleful look and picked it up. Immediately, her tone turned sweet and courteous, entirely different from the one she had used while talking to me. In the middle of a long conversation about arranging a mah-jong game with the mayor’s wife, she suddenly remembered that I was still waiting. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed me.

  20

  Running Away

  Things went back to the way they were before I met Grandma Wu. I tried to spend as much time away from home as possible. Niang was frequently away at her mah-jong games in the afternoons, so I spent a lot of time hanging around the bazaar. Every day after school I’d visit the bookstall and bury my nose in a kung fu novel. Grandma Wang, the new bookseller, was a professional artist and calligrapher. She tried to teach me the correct way of holding a brush, grinding ink-sticks in water to make ink on ink-stones, scripting Chinese characters and sketching trees and flowers. But my attempts at creating ‘art’ failed miserably because I simply could not draw.

  I dared not visit Grandma Wu at the academy, but missed her and the boys terribly. Once or twice a week, Grandma Wu would make her way to the bookstall to see me. Depending on their schedules, one of the boys would sometimes join us. I was always hungry for news. It was a thrilling day when Marat told me he was now allowed to visit Ivanov every Sunday at Bridge House.

  ‘I’m so glad you can visit him weekly now. How is he?’ I asked. ‘What’s it like in that prison?’

  ‘Ivanov is amazing! Although he’s dying to get out of jail, he never complains. As for Bridge House, it’s more awful than you can ever imagine. Ivanov says the Japanese built it to provoke fear among the Chinese people.’

  ‘I’m sure Ivanov is right.’

  ‘I take fresh fruits and vegetables to Ivanov every week,’ Marat added. ‘My brother is cooking for Yonoshita pretty regularly now. They’ve become quite friendly. Sometimes they even eat together.’

  When he mentioned ‘vegetables’, I thought of what Ah Yee had told me, and a plan began to take shape in my mind.

  ‘Make sure you take lots of string beans, tomatoes, sweet peas, bitter melons, cucumbers and squashes next week,’ I said. ‘Ask Ivanov to cook some tasty dishes with those vegetables.’

  ‘Why those in particular?’

  ‘Because they are all vines. And vines can only grow if they are supported by lattices or ropes.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘See if Ivanov can persuade Yonoshita to plant a vegetable garden in Bridge House,’ I suggested. ‘Maybe they’ll put the prisoners to work, including the Americans. Then Yonoshita can have all the fresh vegetables his heart desires.’

  ‘But why are vines so important?’ Marat was puzzled.

  ‘It’s not vines. It’s the lattices and ropes supporting those vines; particularly if they’re placed next to a wall. So convenient for anyone wanting to escape…’

  At home, I closeted myself in my room, doing homework, reading novels and writing my diary. Every evening before dinner, I would secretly practise my kung fu exercises behind closed doors. During mealtimes, I sat at my parents’ table not saying a word, afraid that I might come up with the wrong remark. At weekends, I made a point of helping Ah Yee in the kitchen. I’d never forgotten the promise I made to myself to learn cooking, and was determined to become as good a cook as the boys and Ah Yee.

  By the middle of May, I was missing my aunt more than ever. Finally, one day, Ah Yee said that a letter had come for me.

  ‘I think it’s from your aunt,’ she whispered. ‘Postmarked Nan Tian Island with no return address. It’s definitely her handwriting. Is she visiting Nan Tian?’

  I ignored her question. ‘Where’s the letter?’

  ‘Actually, it was more than a letter,’ Ah Yee said. ‘It was one of those cardboard packages used for sending books.’

  ‘Did she send me a book?’ I asked, delighted at the prospect. ‘Give it to me!’

  ‘Your mother has it,’ Ah Yee said.

  ‘Why did you give it to her?’ I asked, suddenly filled with premonition.

  ‘I was following your father’s instructions. He wanted all letters addressed to you to be given to them first.’

  ‘Even those from Big Aunt?’

  ‘Especially those from Big Aunt. I don’t think they believe your story about what you did during your absence from home. I heard your stepmother saying to your father yesterday that Big Aunt is a bad influence. If Niang has her way, she would prevent you from ever seeing your aunt again. She seems to hate her.’

  I kept thinking of Big Aunt’s letter and could hardly concentrate on my homework or anything else. During dinner, my parents avoided looking at me. Although I was dying to ask, I was afraid of getting Ah Yee into trouble.

  When dinner was almost over and we were peeling our fruit for dessert, Niang suddenly ordered Ah Yee to bring the package lying on her dressing table. My heart leapt when I saw my aunt’s familiar handwriting. Then I noticed with a sinking feeling that the package had already been opened.

  ‘We have here a package sent to you by your aunt,’ Niang began with a smug smile. ‘It contains some very interesting material!’

  ‘The package was addressed to me,’ I protested bravely. ‘May I ask who gave you the right to open it?’

  Her smile vanished in an instant. ‘You are insolent and obnoxious! How dare you ask such a question? We opened it because your aunt is not to be trusted. She’s a wicked woman who is out to destroy her family.’

  ‘I don’t agree,’ I began. Seeing the sharp frown on my father’s face, I quickly added, ‘But you are entitled to your own opinion, just as I am to mine.’

  She gave a cynical laugh. ‘I’m not about to argue with someone as stupid as you! See for yourself.’

  Trepidation rose quickly somewhere in my stomach as she handed me the package. I had a sudden foreboding of something dangerous lurking within, a mysterious object beyond my comprehension. Otherwise, why was Niang leering and capering as she dug her tentacles ever deeper into my heart? Worst of all, I had to cope with this situation alone, without help from anybody. Certainly not from my father.

  ‘What’s in the package that can be so bad?’ I thought as I took it in my sweaty hand, trying to reassure myself. I looked up at Niang and glimpsed a chilling smile on her face. Was it triumph I saw written all over her features? What was she celebrating? Why was she so happy?

  I had once seen a cat beside a pond, waiting to pounce on some
hapless goldfish swimming in the water. I thought with something akin to horror, ‘Niang is enjoying this! But why?’ Then I plunged my hand bravely into the package. Initially, my fingers felt nothing but a tangled nest of shredded paper padding. After groping around for a while, I finally pulled out a small, oblong, cardboard box.

  At first I was relieved, thinking I had worried over nothing. But then I opened the box. Inside was a pair of glittering silver flying wings; the same wings that the American pilot, Ted Lawson, had torn off his shirt and given to me on the night of his rescue. As I stared at the badge with my mouth half-open in alarm, I heard Niang’s cold voice saying, ‘What is this and where did it come from?’

  I pulled every scrap of shredded paper out of the package to look for Big Aunt’s letter, but there was none. ‘Didn’t Big Aunt send a letter with this box? Where is it?’ I asked.

  ‘Answer me first!’ she commanded.

  ‘How would I know?’ I said in a deliberately nonchalant voice. ‘What do you think it is?’

  ‘You and your aunt are playing with fire!’ she said menacingly. ‘Your father and I think this badge must have belonged to one of the American pilots. On the back of it are the words “US Army Air Corps”. If the Japanese find this in our possession, all of us will be given the death penalty!’

  A shiver went down my spine. When I looked at Niang’s cold, beautiful face, I felt a spasm of panic and fear. If I wasn’t careful, something dreadful would happen. ‘What does Big Aunt say in her letter?’ I persisted desperately. ‘She sent it to me! It’s my letter! Let me have it!’

  ‘Your father tells me that your aunt’s godmother lives in Nan Tian. He visited that island many times as a boy, and has even been to Grandma Liu’s house. He thinks your aunt must have been involved in some way with the Americans. Your aunt is a bad influence. In fact, she’s downright dangerous! Your father and I have decided that you are to have nothing more to do with her.’