by Amy Kwei
“Yes, of course!” Miss Tyler pocketed his card and turned to face the reporter. “I hope you’ll allow me to speak of Chinese culture in broader terms. To have a concubine is an honest, open expression in this male- dominated society. In the West, we’re subtler. The French have their mistresses and we have our prostitutes and other outlets for men. I’m afraid it will be a long time before we Westerners will accept the reality of how the so-called fairer sex has learned to cope.”
Strong smiled and shook her hand. “It has been a pleasure meeting you. Perhaps someday we’ll talk again when you’re back in the States.”
Righteous Virtue, Purple Jade, and Orchid came to the table to toast their guests. Miss Tyler and Mr. Strong thanked their hosts and wished the family peace and prosperity.
Miss Tyler remembered the presents the girls had prepared. She nudged Golden Bell to remind her. Silver Bell produced her flute and played a fetching tune with a lively rhythm, while Golden Bell recited to the accompaniment:
“The flower is a maid of comely beauty;
Drifting down the brook of life, she does her duty,
The flower of virtue is a comely beauty!
Anchoring roots to a tree that is already flowering,
Joy and felicity precariously towering;
May love and happiness find safe harboring!
The flower is a maid of comely beauty;
Floating down the brook of life, she does her duty,
This flower of virtue is a comely beauty!
Man of upright virtue does his filial duty;
In Hangzhou, our fabled city,
That peace and purpose be restored with surety!
The flower is a maid of comely beauty;
Sailing down the brook of life, she does her duty,
This flower of virtue is a comely beauty!”
Everyone clapped and cheered, urging the sisters to repeat their performance. Purple Jade smiled, brimming with pride. She had orchestrated all the elements to a perfect pitch. All the activities flowed with integrity and grace; the months of planning and hard work had come to fruition.
Righteous Virtue announced: “I am honored by your presence and your many gifts. Let it be known that from now on, Orchid shall be named Huang Comely Brook.”
Never uttering a single sound, Orchid, with her head lowered and blushing throughout the evening, bowed deeply in thanks. She was led away to her bridal suite.
The night sky lit up. The fireworks had begun. There were peonies, chrysanthemum, lilies and other varieties in successive flowery display. Purple Jade rested her hands on Silver Bell’s shoulders, flushed with satisfaction.
“The time of flowering is here!” she said.
BRIGHT CRYSTAL APPLIED make-up in her bedroom.
Glorious Dragon, sprawled on her Western-style four-poster bed, read out loud the headline: “Three Divisions of Japanese Army Opened Fire on Beijing.” He sat up straight. “July 7, 1937 is a black day indeed.”
“I hope the fighting won’t spread.” Bright Crystal carefully penciled in her eyebrows.
The mirror reflected a hand-painted scene of egrets among marshy reeds and twisted pines. A shade of bamboo slats deflected the noonday sun. A fan droned softly overhead. The beige and green decor tempered the searing Shanghai heat.
“You know, there is no formal declaration of war.” Glorious Dragon put down the paper.
“General Chin went to Lushan a week ago,” Bright Crystal said. She tilted her head this way and that to make sure her brows had the desired curve.
“Chiang Kai-shek’s summer capital? What’s he doing there?”
“He’s with Chiang, and they’re meeting with Mao Tse-tung and Chou En-lai.”
“So the Xian Incident brought the Communists and the Nationalists together. No wonder Japan attacked; they don’t want to see China united.” Glorious Dragon’s eyes followed Bright Crystal’s every move.
Bright Crystal lined her lips lightly with a burnt carmine pencil. “General Chin thought Marshal Zhang had forced a shotgun marriage. It won’t last.” She filled in her lips with a rose sheen. “My humble opinion is that the Chinese people now demand their survival as a nation. No party with a thought to future leadership would dare collaborate with the Japanese. What do you think?”
She turned to look at her lover, pursing her lips like a coquette. For one brief moment, Glorious Dragon was uncertain whether she sought his opinion on her lipstick or on her reasoning. All his discussions with Bright Crystal had involved her brilliant deductions. Yet no one felt threatened by her intelligence. Glorious Dragon liked to compare her artfulness with his sister’s erudition.
Purple Jade’s mind was clothed in a mantle of dignity; more often than not, she deferred to the opinions of the men around her. In spite of her learning, she appeared naive, innocent and humble. Bright Crystal, on the other hand, seemed vain, superficial and fickle, yet her perceptions were incisive and full of pragmatic wisdom. He would have gladly taken directions from her without her feminine guile. They were birds of the same feather. Life was an elaborate intrigue and conversation a challenging game to both of them.
In a rush of emotion, he kneeled behind his Crystal and embraced her slender waist. Snuggling his nose against her fragrant neck, he teased, “So how shall we prepare for the coming storm?”
Giggling, twisting her arm around to tickle Glorious Dragon, she forced him to release her. “Why are you wasting time here in broad daylight?” Still laughing, she picked up the silver-handled brush, and stroked it vigorously across her hair, so Glorious Dragon could not resume his nuzzling without being hit. “Everyone will want to rent in the foreign concessions as war approaches. Buy up as much real estate in this neighborhood as you can, and put the rest of our money in foreign banks!”
“Yes, young mistress.” Glorious Dragon stood erect, brought his hands together and bowed deeply as if paying obeisance to an ancestor. “Shall I evict everyone on Avenue Joffre and buy up the whole French concession in your name?”
Laughing giddily, Bright Crystal poked Glorious Dragon with her brush, and spelled out her instructions as if carrying on a frivolous banter. “Just remember the important part: Everything in the foreign bank accounts must be in your name and mine. Real estate ownership is kept on public record, so it should be in the names of reliable relatives. My father must hold some apartments. The rent will take care of him in his old age. When the fighting begins, your relatives, too, will be safer here.”
“I’ve been scouting the neighborhood for weeks now.” Glorious Dragon looked for his shoes. “No one wants to sell, and what’s available is impossibly overpriced. No one would consider renting you an apartment without several gold bars for key money.”
“So you’ve looked already, eh? When the fighting gets near, foreigners will want to go home. Buy then!” Bright Crystal’s voice became somber. “But have you diverted funds to the foreign banks?”
“No.” Glorious Dragon found his shoes and sat down near the door. “I’ll attend to that tomorrow. I should advise my sister, brother-in-law, and all the Chou cousins in Hangzhou to do the same. Plus, my sister’s family has a very friendly American tutor. My brother-in-law will make sure to deposit our funds into small regional banks in America that can avoid our government’s sanctions. We may have to make some donations to the missionaries, though.”
“Good planning! You are so good to your sister and her family.”
“Aside from you, she is the only family I have.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. The servant girl announced that a Mr. Eugene Ma had arrived.
“I didn’t invite him,” Crystal whispered.
“But you flirted with him.” Dragon scowled.
“Yes, in front of General Chin and all of you.”
Dragon understood their necessary roles. He bit his lip and motioned to Crystal that he was slipping out the backdoor.
Within half an hour, he was ringing the front doorbell and
asking to see Crystal.
“Oh, Dragon-ko, great to see you.” Crystal laughed and shook his hand. “Eugene is here to reassure me that we need not worry about the Japanese invasion.”
Dragon shook Eugene’s hand. “Fancy meeting you here, Eugene. I came to glean some information from Crystal — just in case General Chin had provided deeper understanding.”
“General Chin thought Zhang had forced a shotgun marriage. It won’t last.” Crystal parted with the information as if she were telling Dragon for the very first time. Both Crystal and Dragon were used to brandishing Chin’s name in front of other men enamored by Crystal. This was their best protection.
“I agree,” Eugene said. “I was just telling Crystal that the political council in the Hopei-Chahar region has just apologized to Japan. They want to help the Nationalists fight the Communists!”
“Thanks to your Italian planes, the Nationalists will put up a good fight.” Crystal smiled sweetly, glossing over all the political complications.
“Is your information correct?” Dragon asked.
“Of course. I also told Crystal that my German contacts introduced me to the Italians, and I gave them a large order to buy their planes.” Eugene snapped his fingers as if to boast how easy it was to clinch the deal.
“Congratulations! The air force will really help our National cause. Your German education probably helped.” Dragon knew very well that Eugene spoke German, but he asked, “Do you speak German?” He was playing the humble card — giving Eugene another chance to brag.
“Of course I do.” Eugene sipped his tea, but if Crystal were his mistress, he would have asked for beer.
“Imagine having such an excellent education.” Dragon nodded.
Crystal beamed her admiring smile and said, “Oh Eugene, you must call me and tell me whenever you get more information. General Chin never tells me enough. I hope he’ll come here soon.” This was a hint for them to leave.
After some pleasantries, Eugene kissed Crystal’s hand and bade her goodbye. “Guten Tag,” he said. He clicked his heels together and bowed.
“I’m coming with you, Eugene.” Dragon also kissed Crystal’s hand and gave her a secret wink.
As the two walked away arm in arm, Dragon said, “Congratulations Eugene! Let’s go for a drink. That sale was a masterful score!”
“Yes, yes.” Eugene smiled. “I’ll treat.” He was more than pleased with himself.
Dragon could not help imagining how Mr. Strong would have enjoyed the political confidences they had just shared.
Dragon returned to Crystal’s house for lunch. As they ate, Dragon continued their morning discussion. He asked, “So Eugene may be correct and Japan may soon withdraw. What do you think?”
“No, I think Nanking will repudiate the apology by the political council in the Hopei-Chahar region this time.”
“Why?”
“I think the Chinese people do not want a Japanese overlord. After the drama of the Xian incident, every Chinese knows about Chiang’s bargain with the Communists. As I said this morning, I think the Chinese people all want their survival as a nation. No party with a thought to future leadership would dare collaborate with the Japanese.”
Dragon nodded in agreement. He knew his sister would have come to the same conclusion because she was trained in the classics, just like Chiang Kai-shek. He hurriedly took a few bites and left the table.
“Where are you going?”
“I have a secret mission.”
“What mission? Are you going to check out the properties owned by foreigners?”
“There is really no time to lose.” He winked and bade his lover good afternoon.
Glorious Dragon’s father began life working for a silk trader. He traveled up and down the Yangtze Valley to buy the best cocoons. Soon he won enough respect and good will to start his own business — all the while amassing a fortune. Later he established factories in Shanghai, and expanded into the export market. He was already an old man when Glorious Dragon was born.
Fragrant Wind, his favorite concubine, died giving birth to Glorious Dragon. The old man was furious at his loss. He took to smoking opium and refused to even look at his only son.
As a young boy, Glorious Dragon seldom saw his busy father. Successive numbers of teachers had been hired to prepare the only son in the classics. But Dragon always managed to make his teachers resign. One left because the boy had dissolved a handful of salt into his tea. Another left because he choked on the pepper Dragon left in his lunch. The last one literally ran out the door because the mischievous child set off a string of firecrackers right under his seat. Dragon was the target of his father’s constant rage and disappointment. But no one disciplined him because he was the heir, and his father resorted to his pipe after his fiery rage tired him.
Purple Jade, the child of another concubine, was always there for him. She was thirteen years older and taught Glorious Dragon everything as one child taught another — all in the spirit of play.
“But I’m not as smart as you are, Jade-jei!” Glorious Dragon said.
“Oh no, you’re naughty, but you’re smarter!”
“Surely you’re more fond of learning. Father often bellowed that he wished you were his son!”
“That’s because I never felt the kind of pressure that a son gets. Whenever I made a mistake, I would giggle and the teacher would smile. As you know, girls are not expected to study. But once I read the Tang poets, nothing could stop me. The teacher thought I was strange! But Father was delighted. He encouraged me. He had suffered so much himself — he was almost illiterate. You mustn’t blame him for his harsh ways.”
Purple Jade was like that — self-deprecating and unwilling to find fault with anyone. If she could not explain the source of her suffering, she would blame fate.
Glorious Dragon, by contrast, looked back at his father’s abusive outbursts and the cruel practice of binding his sister’s feet and blamed the old ways. He hated the classics, which required memorization without comprehension. He loved his sister and admired his brother-in-law, but could not understand why they stuck with the old stifling ways, where traditions dominated.
Yet, much as he strained against the old culture, he was shackled emotionally to his family. The thought of Purple Jade’s noble presence in the family compound filled his heart with tenderness and peace.
He remembered the scene at his father’s deathbed. In his delirium, the old man called out his favorite concubine’s name: “Fragrant Wind, Fragrant Wind . . . Old Chou is coming.”
In a moment of lucidity, he held on to his son’s hand. “Glorious Dragon, my son, my son, how I neglected you!” His face grew red, and his breathing tentative. Purple Jade moved closer to calm him.
“No, let me!” He motioned her away, clutching desperately at his son. “She was like me, my Fragrant Wind, your mother. Her father gave her to me because . . . because his fields had been flooded.” He smiled with obvious pleasure. “I didn’t have to, but I accepted her. Saved him an extra mouth to feed. Accepted her as my concubine. She was smart, grateful. She went with me to select the finest cocoons. I . . . I shouldn’t have blamed . . . blamed you. Oh, how I miss her. If she had lived, perhaps . . . I could have stayed away from the pipe . . . but now you must take care of our family.”
His father died a few days later, but the old man’s words left an indelible mark on Glorious Dragon. He could no longer be indifferent when war or opium threatened his family’s honor or safety. In spite of his disregard for tradition, he managed his family business with intense commitment.
He shared all his family concerns with Bright Crystal. She had also grown up without a mother. Her father would have taught her to cook, but he had followed his heart instead and allowed his only child to choose her own path. She was fortunate not to have been highborn and thus bound by old restrictions. She chose to pursue her own interests wherever her inclinations took her. Glorious Dragon admired her honesty and courage, but he never told her
of his new insatiable urge to wreak havoc in General Chin’s opium dens. He knew that her ignorance was her protection.
WHAT DISGUISE SHOULD I use for the opium den this time? Glorious Dragon stomped around Bright Crystal’s parlor, wondering.
The idea of planning to disrupt another opium den and hurt General Chin’s pocketbook always kept his heart thumping. Twice before, he had caused substantial damage in two locations. He bought drinks for foreign soldiers, and when they became intoxicated, he provoked them to raid the dens. Cursing, they charged into the smoke-filled rooms, brandishing their half-empty bottles and breaking them on the proprietors’ and smokers’ heads. In the ensuing melee, he had no trouble sneaking away.
When he first arrived in Shanghai, he had sampled several dens just out of curiosity. However after smoking a pipe or two, he realized he did not enjoy the languorous state that followed. What fascinated him were the nubile young women in slinky cheongsam who served the patrons. Glorious Dragon stopped going after seeing the seedier parlors, which employed young boys and prepubescent girls. Now, every time he thought of Little Six and General Chin’s involvement, he wanted to smash more opium dens.
“You look like a fettered hound. What’s eating you?” Crystal had entered the room.
“Nothing.”
“How’s the contract with Babson and Westcott coming?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you want me to ask General Chin to help?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew that it was insensitive of her to mention Chin.
“No! Never accept a favor from him!” Glorious Dragon ran to the piano and pounded on the keys with his fist.
“Please stop.” Bright Crystal covered her ears. “I can’t stand it! I’ll buy you a gong to drive away the devil in you!”
Glorious Dragon continued pounding. He could think of no other way to relieve his frustration and anxiety.
Bright Crystal snuffed out her cigarette. “I’ll go get some iced tea.” She walked out, touching Glorious Dragon’s back as she passed.
