Peach Blossom Pavilion
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She picked a silk top and trousers from her wardrobe and handed them to me. After I put them on, Pearl said, ‘All right, now let me help you put on make-up.’
When we were finally ready to go out, we stared at our images in the mirror. To my surprise, I looked completely different – at least five years older. The green top and pants with pink plum blossoms, though a little loose, looked very nice on me – as if spring had blossomed all the way from my torso to my limbs. Accentuated by the pink eye shadow and black eyeliner, my eyes gave off a lustrous sparkle that I hadn’t noticed before. The cinnamon pomade on my hair seemed to turn the three-thousand-threads-of-trouble into a mysterious black mirror.
‘Beautiful, aren’t we?’ Pearl purred.
I felt both too shy and too excited to respond.
She grabbed a fur coat and a woolen shawl from her sofa. ‘Now let’s go and exercise our charm!’ she exclaimed, then draped the shawl over my shoulders and pulled me out of the room.
Just then Fang Rong scurried toward us in the corridor. Her huge breasts undulated like tidal waves under her embroidered red jacket. ‘Hurry up, Pearl, Mr. Chan is still in a meeting, but the car is already waiting downstairs. Your de and I will follow you in another car.’ Like a fortune teller sizing up a new client, Mama scrutinised me for long moments, muttering, ‘Ah, so beautiful; proves my old, fussy eyes are still as sharp as a cleaver!’
Outside Peach Blossom, a big, shiny, black car was waiting. Having spotted us, the uniformed and capped chauffeur came to our side and opened the door.
When I was trying to crawl in, Pearl snatched me out. ‘Xiang Xiang, stop! That’s extremely vulgar. Watch me.’ She lowered herself onto the seat, then slowly swung in her legs. An expanse of thigh flashed through the slit of her dress.
‘But Sister Pearl,’ I said in a heated whisper so it wouldn’t be heard by the chauffeur, ‘I can see your entire thigh, even your underwear!’
After I’d gotten in, Pearl sat staring into the rearview mirror while smoothing her hair. She was still looking at her reflection when she said, ‘That’s the point, silly.’
The car started to move. I was so elated to be out that for the entire trip I spoke not a word, shifting my eyes to take in all the passing scenery.
After many turns, the car finally pulled to a stop in front of an ancient building with red-tiled roofs and white walls. Pearl and I got out of the car and walked toward the gate. Four big characters in walking-style calligraphy above the lintel read: WHITE CRANE IMMORTAL’S HALL.
I turned to ask Pearl, ‘What is an immortal’s hall?’
‘A Taoist temple.’
What did prostitutes have to do with Taoists and temples?
As we stepped through the crimson gate, I finally asked, ‘Sister Pearl, why would someone hold a party in a temple?’
‘Ah, Xiang Xiang,’ Pearl threw me a chiding look, ‘the party we’re now going to attend is special, a yaji – elegant gathering. Tonight you’ll meet lots of important and famous people – artists, scholars, poets, actors, high government officials. Anyway, you’re lucky to be invited, so you can start to soak in the flavour of the arts.’ She paused to look at me meaningfully. ‘If you want to be a ming ji, that is. Do you want to?’
I didn’t know whether to say yes or no. Maybe both. ‘Yes’ because I’d like to be prestigious, ‘no’ because, needless to say, I hated even to think of myself as a prostitute. Nevertheless, I knew the two words together signified something quite different. At Peach Blossom, I’d read fine poems and seen exquisite paintings by women – including Pearl – who bore this title. Among the cultivated, rather than being despised, they were highly respected – of course, for their beauty, but even more for their many talents and detached artistic air.
As I was still wondering whether I should say yes or no, I was surprised that my head, against my will, was already nodding like a pestle hitting against a mortar.
Now Pearl whispered into my ear, ‘Of course, there’ll also be crude businessmen and evil people like policemen, politicians, and even tong members.’
Silence reigned in the air until we stepped inside the courtyard where the party was held.
I let out a small cry.
It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. I inhaled the aroma of food and the fragrance of sweet-smelling incense. Colourful lanterns of various shapes and sizes hung from plum trees, swaying and shimmering in the breeze. Glowing peaches had grown as big as a baby’s head; a rabbit watched me wherever I moved; a carp glowed orange; a horse trotted in the wind; a fiery dragon stretched its claws and soared in the air.
Atop several tables were placed sheets of rice paper, brushes, ink stones, tea sets, wine vessels, trays of snacks, and plates of dim sum. Pearl and I floated here and there, watching some sisters paint, others rehearse poetry or sing arias of Peking and Kun operas, while yet others flirted with the guards and male servants. A few men arched their brows and smiled at us as we drifted by. Dew swayed on top of plum blossoms while in the fishpond gold carp wagged their tails.
More and more guests arrived. The men looked important and intimidating in expensive gowns or fashionable suits. The sisters were at their best – willowy bodies clad in silk, bejewelled hair shiny, make-up immaculate, as their delicate hands fussed with water pipes, clinked glasses, smoothed pomaded hair, patted fat cheeks, even delved into bulging pockets.
Then I felt a surge of guilt. In the bare fifteen minutes I’d been in this immortal’s hall, I’d completely forgotten about my mother. By now she was probably in the unadorned nunnery reciting sutras and beating the wooden fish to accumulate merit for me.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Pearl pinched my elbow, awakening me from my thoughts. ‘We’re still early, so let’s go appreciate the lanterns before my big fish Mr. Chan arrives.’ She led me past the women servants who were arranging the food and drink under the scrutinising eyes of Fang Rong and Wu Qiang.
Then she stopped in front of a big tree. Swaying down from the lanterns were slips of rice paper inscribed with calligraphy.
As I was about to read the characters, Pearl’s silvery voice rose to my ear. ‘Xiang Xiang, do you know that tonight is yuanxiao, the Lantern Festival?’
Sadness swelled inside me. Of course I knew yuanxiao – the festival to celebrate tuanyuan, family reunion. But my father was already dead and my mother a thousand miles away. Four months had gone by and I still hadn’t heard a word from her as she’d promised. With no family left, how could I celebrate a family reunion? The same time last year Mother had prepared a delicious dinner, and Baba had hung up our own lanterns in my favourite shapes of a peacock and the moon goddess Chang E. After we ate the sweet, round dumplings symbolising happy reunion, my parents took me to the old city’s Yu Garden. We strolled around the various famous scenic spots and appreciated lanterns, fireworks, acrobats, jugglers, lion dances. When we felt tired from all the walking and excitement, Baba took us to a street stall to enjoy the fragrant jasmine tea.
After that, we went to read the riddles. Baba, well learned in literature and all the classics, could almost always solve the difficult ones, so he’d won lots of prizes. That was why I’d also become very good at solving riddles. Last year the prize he’d won was a fan with a poem:
Last year during the yuanxiao, the lanterns shone as bright as daylight.
When the moon climbed on the trees’ top, lovers met each other in the twilight.
This year during the yuanxiao, while the moon and the lanterns are still here, last year’s persons are nowhere to be seen.
All that’s left are tears wetting the sleeves of my spring garment.
This was a very popular poem by the Sung dynasty poet Ouyang Xiu. Baba had told me that although the poem appeared sad, its message was in fact happy. ‘In the past, women and young girls were not allowed to roam outside their household by themselves. This rule was lifted during the yuanxiao festival, so married women would go out and have fun while young girls would meet their lovers, all under the pretext of appreciating lanterns. So the poem encourages freedom to find love.’ Baba patted my head affectionately. ‘Xiang Xiang, when you’ve grown up, I won’t hire a matchmaker to choose your husband. You’ll be free to look for someone you love.’
Now, remembering Baba and this poem made me extremely sad. Maybe it did convey an auspicious message as interpreted by Baba, but he’d also missed the bad omen it contained. This year, the lanterns were still there but both Baba and Mother were gone, leaving only tears to wet my winter garment.
Seeing that I was about to cry, Pearl put on the big, sweet smile which she normally reserved for her big-shot customers. ‘Cheer up, Xiang Xiang! Let’s look at some of the riddles.’
I dabbed the corners of my eyes and we began to read in silence. Just when I was about to give the answer, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Pearl, and beside her towered a thirtyish man – eyes large and hungry, forehead high, jaw square, with a long arm wrapped around Pearl’s narrow waist.
He leaned his flushed face close to Pearl’s made-up one and said as if he had just swallowed a fireball, ‘Little Pearl, I know tonight you have to keep Mr. Chan company, but before that, can you …’
Pearl snatched out her fan, flipped it open, then began to fan furiously while half-nudging the young man away with her hip. ‘Yor! When does our famous gifted oil painter pay attention to a plain woman like me?’
‘No, Pearl, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, the lady of my dreams.’
Pearl waved him a dismissive hand. ‘Then you better go to sleep now and I’ll see you later in your dream.’
The man had a trapped expression. Pearl cocked an eye at me while motioning to him. ‘Jiang Mou, let me introduce to you my little sister Xiang Xiang.’ Then she turned to me and spoke commandingly, ‘Xiang Xiang, pay respect to Mr. Jiang, the most famous oil portraitist in Shanghai. So if you’re lucky and behave, maybe someday he’ll be willing to paint you and make you very famous.’
‘Will you, Mr. Jiang?’ I asked, feeling colour rising in my cheeks.
‘If your sister says so,’ Jiang Mou said as his eyes kept moving all over Pearl.
Pearl continued to make small talk with Mr. Jiang while throwing him flirtatious glances and brushing his body with her smooth arms and fingers. Finally she whispered something into his ear and made a dismissive wave, at which the famous portraitist sauntered away like an obedient dog.
Pearl turned to me. ‘Xiang Xiang, now why don’t we start to read again?’
The lantern I’d picked was in the shape of a rooster, its riddle was written in walking-style calligraphy:
Its body can break the bellies of evil spirits
Its breath roars like thunder
Its sound rips up the sky and tears off the earth
But when you look back, it’s already a heap of ashes. (anobject)
I yelled to Pearl, ‘Firecrackers!’
She turned to look at me appreciatively, ‘Good, Xiang Xiang, now read this one.’ She pointed to a phoenix.
Face as beautiful as the crescent moon and ears alert as a night owl’s.
Ten thousand arms reach for ten thousand desperate voices. (a personage)
Again I blurted out, ‘Guan Yin, the Goddess of Mercy, who listens to the cries of the needy and goes to help!’
Pearl cocked an eye at me. ‘Very good, you’re really smart, eh?’ Now she pointed to a lotus. ‘Then what about this?’
Just then a loud explosive sound shattered the air.
‘Oh, my heaven!’ Pearl screamed, ‘someone’s got shot!’
‘How do you know?’
‘This is not the first time that it happened. It’s too terrible. Let’s go find out who’s the lucky one.’ Pearl grabbed my arm and we sped to the source of the sound.
5
Spring Moon
Pearl and I shoved through the hovering crowd and gaped.
What stared back at me was a pair of sad, flickering eyes. They were the same eyes that, from underneath the bamboo grove, had followed my every move.
Pearl sighed, yet her voice didn’t sound very upset. ‘I knew sooner or later something like this would happen to Spring Moon.’
I craned my neck to take a better look and saw the sad-eyed girl squirming and moaning on the ground. Blood oozed from her arm, staining the green sleeve of her dress.
I blurted out, ‘Oh, heaven, we should call the police!’
A coarse voice roared. ‘Who said call the police?!’
I felt my sleeve tugged. Pearl shot me a razor-sharp look to shut me up.
The evening suddenly turned icy.
Coarse Voice laughed an air-shredding laugh. ‘Ha! Ha! Ha! Doesn’t everyone here know that I am the police chief?’
I followed the voice until my gaze fell on the most evil face I’d ever seen. It belonged to a dark, solid man with a prominent jaw protruding from a wide, uncouth face. His eyes were mere slits, with the pupils darting like mice trapped in a narrow trough. His square body, stuffed into a stiff uniform the colour of chicken shit, gave the impression of a corpse.
Then, more to my surprise, nobody – none of the sisters, servants, Fang Rong, Wu Qiang, nor the guests – offered to help the poor girl. Everyone just stood there, their feet rooted to the ground and their eyes trapezing between Spring Moon and the police chief.
While his eyes scanned the onlookers like machine guns firing muted shots, everyone lowered their heads to stare at their shoes. The chief spat at Spring Moon, his saliva spraying in all directions and flickering in the lanterns’ light. ‘Fuck your mother, stinky slut. Has no one taught you never to say no to a police chief? Eh? You stinky stuff!’
Fang Rong shoved away the others and went up to Spring Moon, but to my utter shock and surprise, instead of offering help or comfort, she also spat on her – more vehemently than the angry corpse. ‘You cheap, stupid, short-lived bitch! Don’t I always tell you never say no to our noble guests!?’ Then she turned to the police chief, her lips curling into a grin so huge I feared her teeth might be all squeezed out. ‘I’m so sorry, Chief Che, but I swear to you on the honour of Buddha and Guan Yin and the righteous White-Browed God and all my ancestors that this will never happen again.’
The chief shot Fang Rong a murderous look, while swinging his gun. ‘Is that how you teach your daughters? To play ladies when they’re whores?’
A deafening silence. Fang Rong and Wu Qiang plopped down, engaging themselves in a succession of frantic kowtows.
Mama’s voice spilled fear. ‘Sorry, Chief Che, it’s all our fault. Tonight I promise we’ll whip this slut to death to teach her a good lesson.’
Mama kept apologising, while the police chief kept fuming. He cursed incessantly, his body shivering and his high-booted feet fidgeting. When the cold breeze blew in my direction, a strong stench of alcohol wafted into my nostrils. Everyone remained deadly quiet, intently watching what was going to happen next. It astonished me that, amid this crisis, some sisters looked entertained, as if they were watching a Peking opera comedy.
The chief’s venomous words rolled out across the chill night air. ‘Promise me you’ll whip this slut till her skin blossoms and her flesh rots! And I mean it, you get it?!’
Now Mama and De yapped simultaneously, ‘You have our word, Chief!’
The dark face snorted. His voice slashed the night air like a sword. ‘Huh! If not,’ he swung his gun toward the two kneeling figures, ‘beware of your brains!’
The pitiful duo paraded more kowtows.
Then suddenly, hands shaking, the police chief turned to aim the gun at Spring Moon’s head. A collective gasp resonated in the air. Spring Moon closed her eyes. The pool of blood slowly crept along the ground as if it had a miserable life of its own.
Eager faces, shining with curiosity, excitement, and fear, waited for the ‘bang!’ to climax the evening. I felt my heart almost jump out of my chest.
Just then, to everyone’s surprise, Pearl pushed through the group, stepped forward, and wriggled up to the police chief. The evil-faced stinking male turned to stare at her, now not quite sure whether to shoot or not.
Pearl wet her lips and put on her best smile. ‘Aii-ya, Chief Che,’ her voice sounded as if it had been soaked for hours in a honey jar, ‘why fret over a little girl? Didn’t you just say that she’s but a stinky stuff, a worthless slut, a whore?’
The chief kicked Spring Moon’s shoulder; his boots glinted menacingly under the pale moonlight. ‘Yeh! Stinky stuff! Soon-drop-dead bitch!’
Spring Moon moaned; Pearl quickly added, ‘So don’t you think it’s not worth your bullet, Chief? Besides, why fret over a piece of dirt, just needlessly stirring your qi and harming your health? It’s not worth it at all.’ Now seeing that the police chief had calmed down a bit, she ventured to put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Chief Che, you came here to get entertainment, not to get angry, right? We need you to be happy so you can take good care of our society by protecting us against all wrongs.’ She turned to wink at the onlookers. ‘Right?!’
Everybody nodded and uttered a loud ‘Yes!’
Slowly, Pearl moved her hand to cover the gun, then began to caress the chief’s arm while slowly guiding the weapon back to its holster – like a snake returning to its hole. After that, she slipped her arm around the chief’s. ‘Come on, Chief Che, let’s forget this piece of scum and have some fun. I’ll treat you to a glass of champagne, or,’ she winked, ‘anything that takes your fancy.’ Now she ventured to touch the chief’s cheek, her red-painted nails sparkling eerily under the yellowish lantern light. ‘I promise you the wine is imported from France and you’ll love it just as you love justice.’ Her gaze swept around the audience before she turned back to the chief, wetting her lips. ‘And I’ll never say “no” to a big-shot customer like you. Not that I’m stupid or smart, it’s simply because I can’t afford to turn down righteousness!’
‘Well said!’ The group clapped.
Finally, with a stunning smile, Pearl wriggled her water-snake waist and led the staggering police chief away.
Waiting until they were out of sight, people let out a collective sigh of relief. Then some stooped to examine Spring Moon. Blood continued to ooze from her arm where the bullet had grazed her. Some simply stared blankly, as if disappointed that the incident had turned out to be an anticlimax with no killing. Fang Rong ordered two of the guards to take the poor girl back to the pavilion.
I sneaked up to her and asked, ‘Mama, shouldn’t we get her to the hospital?’
She shot me a dirty look. ‘Hospital? Ah, what big talk! But who’s going to pay? You? All right, if you pay, then we’ll send her to a hospital—’
‘But Mama, I don’t have any money!’
‘Neither do I!’
Wu Qiang chimed in, ‘Don’t worry, Xiang Xiang. We’ll ask our herbalist to treat her; it’s much cheaper.’
‘What about –?’
Mama snorted. ‘If she dies, she dies, that’s her fate, nobody can change that, not you, not me, not Guan Yin, not Buddha, not a Western doctor nor an expensive hospital.’ She waved vehemently to the guards. ‘Take her back, now!’ Then she spat on Spring Moon. ‘Stinky stuff! Bringer of bad luck!’
After Spring Moon had been carried away, Fang Rong put on a big smile, announcing to the sisters and the guests while frantically waving her hands, ‘Nothing happened; everything’s all right! Now go back to the party and enjoy yourselves!’
Immediately the group dispersed – some customers went to drink; others watched Mr. Wu demonstrate calligraphy; yet others listened to the sisters sing and swing their curvy bodies to the rhythm of the music …
It both surprised and disgusted me that people were indeed having a good time as if nothing had happened.
Since no one was paying any attention to me, I went to sit on a bench to calm myself. Spring Moon’s image kept spinning in my mind – her sad eyes, her pained face. Who was she? How did she end up in Peach Blossom? Was her family so poor that they had to sell her into the prostitution house? But she didn’t look poor – she had a smooth face and nice skin. Was her father also a criminal like mine? Had she been kidnapped by a bandit?
I sat in a daze I didn’t know how long until I flinched from a slap on my shoulder. I turned and saw Fang Rong’s menacing face hovering above mine. And an old man’s wrinkled one next to hers.
‘Xiang Xiang, what’s the matter with you? Don’t you know that you’re here to work, not to relax?’
I sprang up in no time.
Mama turned to Old Wrinkles. ‘Look, Big Master Fung, this is our famous Xiang Xiang, face beautiful enough to outshine the moon and shame the flowers. Don’t you think?’
Old Wrinkles scrutinised me the same way my mother had examined a choice piece of pork in the market for our yuanxiao dinner. ‘Wonderful, wonderful! The fame has not been spread for nothing,’ he mumbled, while stroking his stubble with his bony, long-nailed fingers.
Mama nipped my chin and ordered, ‘Xiang Xiang, give Big Master Fung a big smile.’
‘Big Master Fung, see the dimples?’ She shot Old Wrinkles a flirtatious look, causing goose bumps to creep on my skin. ‘Aren’t they so charming that they’ll suck you in and make you forget all your troubles?’
Old Wrinkles nodded appreciatively, while his eyes caressed me all over. ‘Yes indeed, indeed.’
Mama went on excitedly, ‘Big Master Fung, there’s one more precious thing about Xiang Xiang.’
‘Eh? What is it?’
Mama lowered her voice to create suspense. ‘Xiang Xiang has a natural body fragrance as if her diet were nothing but flowers.’
Now, like a bulldog, Old Wrinkles leaned close to me and sniffed. ‘Yes, she does smell wonderful. But I think it’s just perfume.’
Mama chuckled. ‘Oh, of course not, Big Master Fung. You have my word, or your money back.’ She winked. ‘Xiang Xiang hasn’t yet received any customers, so who’d buy her perfume?’
‘All right, no need to explain,’ Old Wrinkles said, then he whispered something into Mama’s ear to which she frantically nodded.
I could only catch tidbits of the conversation – ‘fresh dewy peach,’ ‘mighty emperor stretches the bow,’ ‘golden-gun-never-drop pills’ – but their manner made my skin creep and my cheeks burn. After more prurient glances directed from my head to toe and then back from toe to head, the two burst into guffaws.
When Old Wrinkles finally left, so did Mama’s laughter. Now she turned to cast me a murderous look. ‘Xiang Xiang, what’s the matter with you? Don’t stand there like a fool; come and help!’
The party went on long past midnight. After most of the guests had gone, Pearl materialised out of nowhere and joined me to go back to Peach Blossom Pavilion. When we were inside the rickshaw, I noticed that her eyes were blurry, her face flushed, and her mouth reeked of alcohol.
‘Sister Pearl, are you all right?’
‘Oh yes. Don’t you worry about me, I’m fine. I just wonder how’s Spring Moon now. Hai, poor girl, I hope she can pull through.’
I asked tentatively, ‘Where’s the police chief?’
‘He was tipsy. Otherwise Spring Moon would have been shot in the head already and started her journey to the Western Paradise. Then I got him completely drunk, so his gang took him back. Hopefully by tomorrow morning he won’t remember a thing. Otherwise he may still cause trouble.’
‘Is he very important?’
Pearl chuckled. ‘Did you see how he swung his gun? He’s a local despot! Have you ever heard the saying “When a scholar argues with a soldier, even if he has reasons, he has no way to make them clear”?’
She plunged on, ‘Because the soldier is armed with a gun! So he doesn’t give a damn about the scholar’s reasoning, he’ll just shoot him!’ She looked me straight in the eyes. ‘And remember, Xiang Xiang, we’re not even scholars, but whores.’