The Goddess of Yantai

by Ian Hamilton

  “My name is Fan. Please sit.”

  The man was wearing blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. His grey hair was plaited and tied in the back. His face was heavily lined, and when he smiled at Ava, she saw that his teeth were yellow. He had to be close to eighty. Ava was still wearing the clothes she’d worn to the meeting with Mo and felt distinctly overdressed.

  “I’m drinking green tea. It’s supposed to be the best for your health,” Fan said. “But they have all kinds here, so you can have green, black, white, oolong, or scented.”

  “Green will do just fine, thank you.”

  The man stood, went to a shelf off to one side, and took a cup from it. He placed the cup in front of Ava and poured. “Would you like a bun? They don’t make them here, but they buy them daily from another hutong only a few hundred metres from here.”

  “The tea will be enough.”

  “I saw you looking into the bathroom,” he said as he watched her sip.

  “A public bathroom isn’t something I’m used to seeing in the middle of a major city.”

  “It’s a relic. Nearly all of us have indoor plumbing but none of us want to see it closed. It reminds us of our past. There are enough developers trying to destroy the hutongs that the idea of knocking down any part of one is abhorrent.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “More than forty years. I’m a writer, and originally I lived with four colleagues in a house about the same size as Fai’s. But as they moved out and one died, I gradually acquired ownership.”

  “So you know Fai — personally, I mean?”

  “I do, but I knew Lau Lau better. We used to drink together. I wrote a couple of scripts for him that never amounted to anything, but I rewrote one and it was made into a film.”

  “Do you still see him or hear from him?”

  “From time to time. But he’s a very unhappy man, and at my age I prefer not being surrounded by misery. There’s enough of it going around naturally that I don’t want to invite more in,” Fan said. “Besides, I don’t like the way he talks about Fai. She’s been a good neighbour and friend to everyone in the hutong, and that’s all that matters to me. What went on between them should stay between them. I’ve tried telling him that but he can’t help himself, so I try to stay away from him now.”

  There was something in Fan’s manner that Ava found a little off-putting. It wasn’t so much what he was saying as the way he said it. She felt that his remark about what had gone on between Fai and Lau Lau wasn’t just a comment; it was an invitation for her to ask questions that would give him a chance to gossip and then pry into her affairs. This is a sly old man, she thought, and then said, “This is the first hutong I’ve ever seen. You seem to know a lot about them. How many still exist in Beijing?”

  “There are about a thousand left. When I came to Beijing, there were more than three thousand,” he said, not seeming to mind her redirecting the conversation. “This one is three hundred years old, but there are some that go back five and six hundred years. The word ‘hutong’ is Mongolian and means ‘water well.’ In the north it was customary to build large courtyards around wells and then extend lanes and alleys out like bicycle spokes from the courtyards. Our lane is a bit less than ten metres across, which is about average, but I’ve seen some as narrow as seven metres, and hardly any wider than ten. Many of the hutongs are interconnected through various courtyards, so we’re all neighbours.”

  “Have you banded together to fight off the developers?”

  “We try, but our biggest problem is the government. The developers can’t do anything without its approval, and until a few years ago, approvals could be bought. That’s stopped for now, but we have to keep the pressure on. One good thing is that the hutongs have become a tourist attraction — although not this one, because we’re too ordinary. But Skewed Tobacco Pouch Street, South Gong and Drum Lane, and Coloured Glaze Factory Street are all fashionable, so we use their drawing power to help defend our lane,” he said, and then paused. “A few years ago, when Lau Lau was at his peak, when he was the most famous filmmaker in China, he wanted to make a documentary about the destruction of the hutongs, but nothing came of it. He blames Pang Fai for that as well. He said she discouraged him by telling him he would only anger local Party leaders and make it harder to get financing for his other films.”

  Ava finished her tea. “If I were to visit one hutong, which one would you recommend?”

  “Nanluoguxiang, South Gong and Drum Lane,” he said, again quite nonplussed by her avoidance of talking about Lau Lau and Fai. “It dates back to the Yuan Dynasty, so it’s at least seven hundred years old. It still has the traditional board-style residences and is the closest thing you can see to what was the original texture of the hutong.”

  “Thank you,” Ava said, and then glanced at her phone as it alerted her to an incoming text message. It was from Fai and read simply Done. Ava stood up. “I have to go now. I’ve really enjoyed your company, and I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you do?” Fan said.

  Ava knew the question he really wanted to ask was What are you doing with Pang Fai? “I’m an accountant,” she said.

  “I’m sure Pang Fai could use a good one. Actors and writers aren’t trained when it comes to handling money. If Lau Lau had had better management support, he might still be making movies today.”

  “You could be right,” Ava said, and then turned and walked back along the hutong.

  She was almost at the entrance to Fai’s compound when her phone rang. “Hey, Suki,” she answered.

  “I’m calling to confirm dinner with the Suns tonight,” Suki said.

  “Oh shit, I’d forgotten about that.”

  “You are still coming, aren’t you?”’

  “Of course.”

  “Thank god. It would have been hard to explain if you weren’t. The Suns have booked a small room in the Lost Heaven restaurant, near Tiananmen Square. Aside from being one of the best restaurants in the city, it serves Yunnan cuisine, and that’s where Mrs. Sun is from originally. She only goes there for very special occasions.”

  “I was in Yunnan not that long ago, in Kunming, the capital,” Ava said.

  “Make sure you say nice things about it. She’s proud of her heritage.”

  “What time are we booked for?”

  “Eight o’clock.”

  “Can I bring a guest?”

  “You can bring as many guests as you want. This is a celebration, so the more the merrier. Mrs. Sun told me the room seats up to sixteen people. So far there’s me, you, the Suns, and six other people from their business.”

  “Suki, if I bring a guest, it will be Pang Fai — the actress.”

  “You don’t have to tell me who Pang Fai is.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. You just caught me off guard,” Suki said. “All I can tell you is that if you do bring Pang Fai, it will cause a sensation. Mrs. Sun’s only addiction is movies.”

  “Do you want me to let you know ahead of time if she is coming?”

  “No. I won’t say anything to Mrs. Sun. Let’s make it a surprise if it happens. If it doesn’t, no one’s going to be disappointed, except for me.”

  “So I’ll see you at eight, then,” Ava said, stepping inside the small courtyard. She walked up to Fai’s door and paused. She knocked to announce her arrival and then, after a few seconds, opened the door.

  Fai sat on the couch, her head resting against the back and her eyes closed.

  “Are you okay?” Ava asked.

  “I’m trying to make myself feel clean again,” Fai said, not opening her eyes.

  “Do you want to talk about it, or do you just want to move on?”

  “Come and sit next to me,” Fai sai
d, patting the couch. “Where did you go?”

  “The Little Tea Room. I met your neighbour, Mr. Fan.”

  “He likes to think he’s everyone’s friend, and he is, until they get to know him.”

  “That was the impression I had.”

  Fai leaned towards Ava until her head found a shoulder. “I was very nervous when I phoned Mo,” she said. “The receptionist put me on hold for what seemed like forever, and I thought he wasn’t going to take my call. But he did, and the moment I heard his voice I started to cry and ramble. It was like I was on autopilot.”

  “How quickly did he react?”

  “He had to cut me off to do it,” Fai said. “He told me he’d suspected that there had been some miscommunication, because he couldn’t understand how I could think that he and the Syndicate weren’t committed to supporting me.”

  “How did you leave it?”

  “Two o’clock tomorrow afternoon at the Kempinski,” Fai said, and drew a deep breath.

  “Okay, but like I said, you don’t have to be in the room tomorrow when he arrives.”

  “Never mind the room. I don’t want to be anywhere near the hotel,” Fai said. “I’ve watched him intimidate, dominate, and humiliate people for years, but as much as I want to see how he reacts when the tables are turned, I’m not sure I could handle it.”

  “Then I think our decision is the correct one,” Ava said, and looked at her watch. “Now I need to make some phone calls so that we’re properly organized for tomorrow, and you need to make another decision about tonight.”

  “Who are you calling?”

  “The hotel to make a reservation, and then Lop and my friend Derek Liang in Toronto.”

  “Toronto?”

  “Derek is the person who’s been collecting information on Mo’s son. I need him to accelerate the process.”

  “And what about tonight?”

  “I’m invited to a dinner to celebrate a business deal that our partner Suki Chan and I just finalized. There will be about ten other people there, most of them local and attached to the logistics company we’ve just bought. I have to go, and I’d like you to come with me.”

  Fai looked hesitant.

  “They are lovely people, and I know that at least two of them are big fans,” Ava said. “They’ve booked a private room at a restaurant called Lost Heaven, which is supposed to be one of the best in the city.”

  “I’d rather be at home alone with you, but if you have to go, I guess I’m going too,” Fai said.

  “If nothing else, it will be a distraction.”

  “I don’t need a distraction,” Fai said. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow, and I don’t need anything to take my mind off it.”

  “Fai, there are no guarantees that tomorrow will go the way we want,” Ava warned.

  “I’ll be okay even if it doesn’t work, because I’ve already stopped feeling like a victim.”

  ( 14 )

  Ava called the Kempinski first to reserve a room in the name of Jennie Kwong. It was an identity she’d used off and on while she was working with Uncle, and she always carried a passport and credit card registered to that name. She knew she was probably being overly cautious, but she had no idea how diligent Mo was, and she didn’t want to find out the hard way. There were rooms available, but she had to pay a premium to ensure early check-in. Then she phoned Lop and briefed him on the arrangements. They agreed to meet in the Kempinski lobby at noon to review their story.

  She waited until six-thirty to call Derek. She knew the baby was usually up by six but wanted to give him time to feed her and have a coffee. Mimi answered the phone, and the two women had a quick conversation before Ava talked to Derek. Mimi knew a lot about Ava’s past life, including her sexuality. In fact it had been Mimi who introduced Ava to her previous girlfriend, Maria Gonzalez. Ava didn’t mind sharing bits of her personal life with Mimi, but this wasn’t the time to talk about Fai, so they chatted generally about the baby and Mimi’s job before the phone was passed to Derek.

  Ava went over the information he’d given her the day before and then asked him to expand it as much as possible. “I need the information by eleven p.m. your time, and preferably sooner. I know I’m asking for a lot, but I need absolutely everything you can dig up on the son, including photos,” she concluded.

  “Do you care how you get it?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you want it in one package or should I send it to you as I collect it?”

  “Send it as you get it.”

  “And how do you want it sent? Text? Email? Phone?”

  “Whichever way works best for you, but if you get pictures I would prefer them to be attached to an email.”

  “I’ll get started as soon as Mimi leaves for work.”

  While Ava made her phone calls, Fai showered and got dressed for dinner. Ava was sitting in the kitchen when she came down the stairs wearing flat shoes, black jeans, and a plain long-sleeved white cotton blouse. Her hair was still damp and brushed close to the scalp. She wore no makeup, but her cheeks were bright pink and her face almost glowed.

  “This is my going-out-in-Beijing look,” Fai said when she saw Ava staring at her. “It may not be effective as a disguise, but it does cause people to question if I’m actually who I appear to be.”

  Ava looked at her own slacks, shirt, and jewellery. “This is the second time today I’ve felt overdressed, and I’m not often accused of that,” she said and stood up. “I’m going to change.”

  “Don’t. I love the way you look.”

  “At the very least I should freshen up and put on a clean shirt,” said Ava.

  She climbed the stairs and went into the bedroom, where she took out a fresh pale pink Brooks Brothers shirt from her Shanghai Tang Double Happiness bag. She carried it to the bathroom, hung it on a hook, and slipped off the shirt she was wearing. She went to the sink and turned on the hot water. As the water gradually warmed, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The bathroom was brightly lit and the mirror was of very good quality. When she’d looked into it that morning, she’d seen creases made by sleep and a firm pillow. Now she examined her face for lines or any other signs of aging. She was closer to forty than thirty, if only by a year or two, and she understood the inevitability of deterioration. But understanding it and accepting it were two different things, and she was her mother’s daughter, after all. What did her mother spend each year on face creams and special ointments? At least four thousand dollars, maybe more. Ava didn’t use creams yet, but she wasn’t averse to the idea; she was determined to look young as long as possible.

  She sighed and stared harder. There were no apparent lines in her face, and as she looked down at her half-naked torso, she saw that it was still lean and taut. She was proud of her body, which she kept toned by running and bak mei workouts. Its only blemishes were scars that were reminders of how dangerous her old job had been. The largest was on her upper right thigh. She’d been shot there, the bullet so deeply embedded in the muscle that a Macao surgeon had to cut his way in to extract it. That scar was long and pink, like a fat worm. The others — on her shoulder and down the side of her left knee — were insignificant by comparison. She had been a little shy about the scars the first time she and Fai had really explored each other’s bodies. But Fai had put her at ease quickly, sliding down to kiss her thigh and then running her tongue along the pink worm.

  I haven’t been working out enough, Ava thought suddenly. I’m going to get fat if I don’t get back into some kind of routine.

  Ten minutes later, Ava, in her pink shirt and with her face freshly scrubbed, joined Fai downstairs. They left the house for the now familiar walk to the end of the hutong to catch a taxi.

  Traffic was heavy but moving, and at ten past eight the cab stopped in front of Lost Heaven. The restaurant was in a freestanding one-stor
ey building. The front was completely glass, and the walls and double doors had metal discs the size of dinner plates embedded in them. It was an austere look that was quickly contradicted when they stepped into the walled reception area. The floor was a glistening worn, dark wood. Scrolled wooden chairs and sofas heavily padded in bright red cloth stood along each wall leading from the door to a long mahogany desk. The walls were painted a brilliant red, and the lamps on either side of the desk also glowed red.

  “We’re here to join the Sun party,” Ava said to the host.

  He nodded, turned, and spoke to a young woman standing next to him. She came out from behind the desk and said, “Follow me,” looking intently at Pang Fai.

  They trailed her through the restaurant with its continuing theme of dark wooden floors and red lights. When they reached a closed door near the back of the restaurant, their guide reached for the handle, turned it, and stood to one side. As they moved past, she whispered to Fai, “Are you really who I think you are?”

  “Probably,” Fai said with a slight smile.

  Ava saw Mr. Sun sitting at the far end of a long table, with Suki and Mrs. Sun sitting closest to him on either side. The table was covered with a red cloth. The chairs around it were wooden, had beautifully carved scrolled backs, and were padded in purple cloth. The room was, not surprisingly, lit in red, and it made the rows of masks hanging on the walls look almost demonic.

  Mr. Sun stood to greet Ava, and both Suki and Mrs. Sun looked in her direction. When Fai stepped up alongside Ava, their gazes froze. Even though Suki had known that Fai might come with Ava, she still seemed startled. Mrs. Sun didn’t appear to know what to do; she sat almost frozen, her mouth agape.

  “This is my friend Pang Fai,” Ava said. “I was told she is welcome to join us for dinner.”

  The entire table rose to their feet. There were two empty seats next to Suki and across from Mrs. Sun and her chief accountant. Ava and Fai walked to them, mouthing hellos as they went. When they reached the end of the table, Ava made the introductions and everyone sat.