The Goddess of Yantai

by Ian Hamilton

  “They usually do. The owner hires cooks from all over and the menu is a mixture of this and that.”

  “Let’s go,” Ava said.

  It had rained heavily in Beijing as well, and they had to step over and around puddles on the way to the restaurant. Ava was so focused on keeping her feet dry that she didn’t notice at first when Fai came to a stop in front of a steam-covered window. She saw chairs and tables inside and assumed it was the canteen, although there were no signs anywhere to indicate it.

  “Good, it isn’t too crowded,” Fai said, opening the door.

  The restaurant was a square with about ten large, round tables occupying the centre of the white-tiled floor and another ten smaller tables lining the walls. The tables were covered with plastic sheets. The chairs were of the metal folding variety that Ava’s mother pulled out of the closet to set up around the mah-jong table.

  Fai waved to one of the female servers. The woman pointed to a table against the wall and a few minutes later came to them with cups and a pot of tea.

  “Great to see you again. It’s been a while. The boss isn’t here. He’ll be pissed to hear that he missed you,” the woman said. Then she glanced curiously at Ava, as if surprised to see her. “Do you need a menu?”

  “I think I’ll just let my friend order for both of us,” Ava said.

  “Do you have hot and sour soup tonight?” Fai asked.

  “We do.”

  “Fine. Then we’ll have that and zhajiang noodles and jiaozi —”

  “Jiaozi with pork or with scrambled eggs and chives?”

  “Eggs and chives. And I think I’m in the mood for gong bao,” Fai said. “That should be enough food, yes?”

  “I can’t see you two finishing it all.”

  “We’ve been walking all day and we’re starving,” Fai said. “Besides, you won’t believe how much this woman can eat.”

  The server nodded. “Do you want something stronger to drink?”

  “Do you have wine?” Ava asked.

  “Only beer or cognac.”

  “I’d better stick with tea.”

  “I’ll have a Yanjing,” Fai said.

  “I didn’t know you drink beer,” Ava said when the server left.

  “Only on special occasions.”

  “And what makes this so special?”

  Fai sat back in her chair and looked around the restaurant. “I’ve eaten here at least a hundred times. I discovered it by chance when I went for a walk after an argument with Lau Lau. It became my refuge, the place I came to when I needed quiet,” she said. “You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “I don’t want you to be flattered. I’d much rather you understood how happy you make me, and how content I am when I’m with you,” Fai said. “Today was wonderful, just being together, and walking and talking was wonderful.”

  “I enjoyed it as well after I stopped worrying about not having a phone.”

  “Speaking of which, I’m sure we can borrow one now if you really need to make a call.”

  “I can wait until we get home,” Ava said as the server returned with a bottle of beer, an empty glass, and a large bowl balanced on a tray.

  As Fai poured her beer, the server spooned hot and sour soup into their bowls. It was maroon coloured, a darker red than Ava was used to, and also contained more ingredients than was usual. Ava could see thin slivers of chicken and a brown meat that was either pork or duck; she also noticed wood mushrooms and fungi, small translucent shrimp and scallops, strips of green pepper, red chilis, and a tangle of bean sprouts. Across the soup’s surface she could see chili oil shimmering like an oil slick on water. Ava added white pepper, mixed it in, took a spoonful of soup, and sipped carefully several times.

  “How is it?” Fai asked.

  “It has some heat to it but it isn’t overpowering, and it has a delicate vinegar nip that I really like. Too often I find that restaurants go heavy on the heat and completely forget the traditional sour component. It’s something I eat all the time, and what I love about it is that no two chefs, let alone restaurants, make it the same way. At the most basic level I’m sure there are similarities, but I think I’ve had every possible variation of hot and sour and a myriad of different ingredients, and I’ve seen it range in colour from bright red to dark brown.”

  “How does this one rate?”

  Ava ate another two spoonfuls. “It’s very good,” she said finally. “Near the top.”

  Half an hour later she was saying the same thing about the rest of the food they’d ordered. Although she knew she was biased, it reconfirmed her belief that in terms of variety and quality, Chinese cuisine was the best in the world. How else to explain that, in a city as large and sophisticated as Beijing, she could find herself eating dinner in a restaurant that wasn’t much larger than a hole in the wall, had the plainest of appearances, and didn’t even bother putting its name on a sign (assuming that it actually had a name) and yet still have a meal that any five-star hotel restaurant would have been proud to serve?

  The zhajiang noodles, tossed with a rich minced pork sauce and then dotted with fresh greens, and the crescent-shaped jiaozi dumplings were both excellent, but the gong bao really amazed her. It was a dish commonly known in North America as “kung pao” and usually made with chicken, but even the best she could remember was a pale imitation of what the chef in this small unnamed restaurant had conjured in his wok, using chicken thighs, soy sauce, sesame oil, Chinese black vinegar, rice wine, hoisin sauce, cashews, and chili peppers that the server said had come directly from a private source in Sichuan. Wherever they were from, they were tiny morsels of dynamite that Fai quenched with another beer, while Ava drank two large glasses of water.

  “That was a terrific meal,” Ava said as Fai paid the server for a bill that amounted to less than thirty American dollars. “I’ll come back here anytime you want.”

  “You should make that soon,” the server said, and then smiled at Ava. “We love Fai and we’ve missed her. She’s not only our most famous customer, she’s also our favourite.”

  “I’m quite sure those two things go hand in hand,” Fai said.

  “She can never accept a compliment,” the server said to Ava as the women stood to leave.

  The restaurant had been warm, its air infused with the aromas of garlic and ginger. It came as a bit of a shock when Ava and Fai walked into the dark, damp night and the smell of gasoline fumes. “It feels like rain again,” Ava said, zipping up her jacket.

  Fai did the same, then looped her arm through Ava’s and pulled her close. “Let’s hurry home.”

  The streets had lots of traffic but the sidewalks were quiet; it took them only a few minutes to reach the hutong. It began to rain as they stepped through the courtyard doors, and they scurried across the yard to Fai’s. She fumbled with her key but they got inside the house just in time to avoid a suddenly vicious downpour.

  Ava held out her arms and they hugged. The passions they’d been withholding during the day were turned loose as they pressed every part of their bodies against each other.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Fai said.

  “In a minute. I should call Suki first,” Ava said. “She’ll be wondering what happened to me.”

  “Then call her. Do you want my phone?”

  “I’ll use my own. I’ll go upstairs and get the charger.”

  “Hurry. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  Ava took the phone from her jacket pocket as she climbed the stairs. The charger was sitting on a table by the bed. She plugged it in, inserted it into the phone, found Suki’s number, and pressed.

  “My god, Ava, are you all right?” Suki answered. “May and I have been trying to reach you for most of the day.”

  “I’m so sorry. I went to visit the Great Wall and t
ook a phone that wasn’t charged.”

  “So you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Good, but when you’re finished talking to me, you have to call May Ling. She’s worried sick about you.”

  “What did she think could have happened to me?”

  “That’s the point. Given your history, it could have been anything.”

  “I guess there’s some truth in that.”

  “I wanted to reach you to tell you the Suns have agreed to the deal.”

  “Did they have any issues with foregoing the property assessments?”

  “None. Actually, she told me that she suspected something like that might happen. They didn’t say anything because they didn’t want us to think they had some other motive for being opposed to it.”

  “Well then, I guess it’s congratulations, Suki. You’ve done it again,” Ava said. “When will the paperwork be finalized?”

  “A day or two. I’m going to stay here until it’s done.”

  “I will as well. Call me when you need me.”

  “Okay, I’ll stay in touch, but make sure you phone May tonight.”

  Ava felt a touch of relief as the conversation ended. She hadn’t expected anything negative to happen during the day, but she never discounted bad luck. Just as that thought left her, she heard voices from below. She dropped her phone onto the bed and walked to the top of the stairs.

  “What’s this?” Fai said.

  “It’s a package for you.”

  “I can see it’s a package, but why do you have it?”

  “What’s going on down there?” Ava called out.

  “Mr. Fan is here. He has a package for me,” Fai said.

  “Why does he have your package?” Ava asked, starting down the stairs.

  “I was just asking the same question.”

  “Hello. Nice to see you again,” Fan said as Ava reached the hallway.

  “Nice to see you too.”

  “So what’s this all about?” Fai said, looking at the large brown padded envelope that he still held in his hands.

  “A man left this at your door earlier this afternoon. I didn’t mean to interfere, but it began to rain quite heavily and I thought I should keep it dry until you got home.”

  “How did you know I wasn’t at home?”

  “I saw you and Ava leave earlier in the day.”

  “How did you know we’d left?”

  “What else do I have to do but watch people come and go?”

  Fai hesitated and then said, “Give me the package.”

  He handed it to her. She looked at the front and then the back. “All it has on it is my name on both sides,” she said. “There’s no address and no information about a sender.”

  “I thought that was a bit odd myself.”

  “This man who brought it, what did he look like?” Ava asked.

  “I don’t really know. He was wearing what they call a hoodie. I couldn’t see his face.”

  “So he wasn’t wearing the uniform of any delivery service?”

  “Just jeans and a hoodie.”

  “That doesn’t mean much. There are a lot of freelance delivery companies,” Fai said to Ava.

  “But why isn’t there an address on the envelope?”

  “He could have had it on a piece of paper.”

  “I think you’re reading far too much into this,” Fan said.

  Fai stared at him. “Mr. Fan, thanks for your help delivering my package in a dry condition. I think we can handle it from here on.”

  “Sure. You two ladies have a nice evening, now,” he said. He hesitated for a few seconds and then turned and walked out.

  “That was a bit creepy,” Ava said as the door closed behind him.

  “It’s as I told you: he wants to know everyone’s business.”

  Ava looked at the envelope. “And I’m sure he’s eager to know what’s in there.”

  Fai nodded and tore open one end. “It’s a plain DVD,” she said, taking it out. “There’s nothing else in here.”

  “Why would someone send you a disk?”

  “It isn’t that unusual. I get three or four a year from wannabe actors and directors.”

  “Still . . . No note, no name, no address?”

  “Also not that unusual. All that information is normally in the introduction,” Fai said, then paused. “Have you finished making your phone calls?”

  “No. I should call May Ling.”

  “Then why don’t you do that while I take a quick look at what I’ve got here. Then all our obligations will have been met and we can indulge ourselves in ourselves.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Ava said.

  ( 23 )

  Ava tried May’s mobile first, but when it went directly to voicemail, she called her Wuhan office.

  “Finally,” May said after one ring. “We thought we’d lost you.”

  “I took a day off to tour and then my phone battery died. Sadly, there was nowhere on the Great Wall of China to recharge it. I guess they didn’t think of that when they built it.”

  May Ling laughed. “Were you really on the wall?”

  “For about four hours. I’d never seen it before.”

  “Me neither. What kind of Chinese does that make us?”

  “Typical?”

  “You’re probably right,” May said.

  “I spoke to Suki, so I know that we have a deal here. I’m sorry I was out of touch, but I’m sure she didn’t really need me.”

  “We all need you in our own way,” May said. “And I have to say that, however highly Suki thought of you before — which was considerable — it skyrocketed when you took Pang Fai to dinner with the Suns.”

  “You told me that already.”

  “I know, but Suki keeps going on about it. She has heard so many stories about you, and this gives her a personal one to add.”

  “I was actually worried what she’d assume about Fai and me.”

  “Fai is a superstar; she lives on another planet. Suki and the others were thrilled just to be in her presence. No one thought twice about why she was there with you.”

  “Is it that simple?”

  “For them it very well might be,” May said. “I remember when we were in London for the PÖ launch. It astounded me how overwhelmed people were when they met her.”

  “And yet the truth is, she’s as vulnerable as any of us.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” May said. “And I imagine that when you tell me the full story about this China Movie Syndicate guy, Mo, I’ll learn more.”

  “When we have the chance to sit and talk, I’ll fill you in,” Ava said. Then she flinched as she heard what sounded like a wail. She took the phone from her ear and listened. It was quiet. “May, I’m going to stay here until the acquisition is fully complete. Then I’m going to talk Fai into taking a holiday. She’s mentioned going to Yantai to see her parents, and after that I’d like to have her come to Toronto with me. Whatever I decide, I’ll let you know.”

  “Your timing is good. After we’re finished in Beijing, there isn’t much going on in the business that Amanda can’t handle. But it would be nice to see you before you head back to Toronto.”

  “Maybe I could stop in Hong Kong on the way?”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Then I’ll work on it,” Ava said. She heard another noise, and this time she was certain it had originated downstairs. “May, I have to go. I’ll be in touch.”

  She left her phone on the table and walked to the top of the stairs. She stopped and listened, wondering if the sounds were coming from the television and the DVD Fai was playing. She started to walk downstairs and was halfway there before she realized that the voice she was hearing was Fai’s.

  When Ava arrived in the li
ving room, she saw Fai standing in the middle of the room with her back to the stairs and her attention focused on the television. She had a remote control in her right hand and was pointing it at the grainy black-and-white picture on the screen.

  The picture quality was terrible, and Ava couldn’t make out what it was supposed to represent until she stood alongside Fai. She lightly touched Fai’s arm.

  Fai recoiled, startled, and then slowly seemed to recognize that it was Ava. The hand that held the remote was shaking. “When will this end?” she said, her voice cracking.

  “Is this all there is on the disk?” Ava said.

  “No. There’s a man who introduces it, and then he asks for money.”

  “I’d like to see him.”

  ( 24 )

  They lay on top of the bed fully clothed, wrapped in each other’s arms. There had been no attempt at lovemaking and little conversation beyond words of comfort from Ava since they had climbed the stairs an hour before.

  “I can’t put you through any more shit from my former life,” Fai said finally, almost in a whisper. “The mess with Mo was bad enough, and you did more than I ever expected, or probably deserved. But the shit on that video and those demands . . . I can’t ask you to help.”

  Ava didn’t respond immediately. She pulled Fai closer and held on tight until she began to feel her become less tense. “Let’s just talk about it,” Ava said. “We can’t ignore it, and I can’t know about it and not want to help any way I can. You can’t keep me from caring.”

  “But I can’t keep throwing my problems at you.”

  “You didn’t send that disk. But whoever did, my hope is that it’s just a coincidence.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My hope is that the guy on the DVD is what he says he is — a blackmailer — and that if we pay him we can make him go away,” Ava said, glad to be talking about something other than Fai’s state of mind. “I don’t want to think that this is somehow connected to Mo, because if it is, it’s either certain to become public or he’ll want to trade it for the leverage we now have.”

  “Even if he isn’t connected to Mo, he still wants five million renminbi, and I don’t have that kind of money,” Fai said. “And if I did, what guarantees do we have that he won’t make that film public anyway?”