by Mingmei Yip
I preferred the quieter, upper floor of the cafe and arrived fifteen minutes before we were to meet. The ambiance was elegant but relaxed, with young Russian waitresses in white and green striped uniforms silently serving the customers. A white-gloved waitress led me to sit at a round table next to a floor-length window framed by grass-green curtains. Here I watched life pass by outside on the busy Tranquil Peace Temple Road. From the street below, the tune of ‘I’m Always Chasing Rainbows,’ wafted up.
I’m always chasing rainbows,
Watching clouds drifting by.
Some people look and find the sunshine.
I’ll always look and find the rain …
Soon I spotted Shadow getting off a rickshaw and hurrying inside. A moment later, she made her magical appearance on the upper floor.
Precision, a trait necessary for both magician and spy. We smiled at each other as she was seated by the same Russian waitress. After our orders were taken, we politely complimented each other on our good taste in clothes – she was clad in a black-dotted pink dress with a rather plain gold pendant, and I in a beige, lacy cheongsam with matching pearl earrings and necklace. We chatted until the waitress arrived with a layered silver tray with our drinks – cafe crème for me and vodka for her – together with Russian bread accompanied by butter and jam. Sipping my coffee, more bitter than sweet, I studied her smooth, lightly made-up face, and smiled, hoping she would break the silence.
She smiled back, her face as inscrutable as her magic. ‘What an honour to be seen with Shanghai’s Heavenly Songbird.’
‘Overpraise.’
Her eyes penetrated mine. ‘Don’t be modest, Camilla. You know you’re way ahead of me.’
And you’re desperate to take my place.
She sipped her much stronger and more expensive vodka. Then she tilted her head, her waves of shoulder-length black hair glowing in the early-afternoon sunlight. ‘May I know the purpose of this invitation?’
What a blunt question! I’d better get used to her brusque style. In replying, I was careful not to sound too eager or too cold, in order to maintain just the right distance. ‘Shadow, I am most impressed by your talent, and I still would like to know: how did you do it?’
Of course I didn’t expect an honest answer, or any answer at all. My goal was to evoke a response, to get a sense of how she handled things.
This time she let out a soft laugh, revealing rows of smooth, pearly teeth. ‘This will be my secret, unless someday I encounter a worthy student to pass on my teacher’s heritage. Or if I have a child.’
‘Do you have a father in mind?’
‘Camilla, do you think women like us can find someone suitable?’
The idea of having a husband and a family was as alien to me as going to America someday in the future, but I asked, ‘Why not?’ just to hear what she would say.
‘How long do you think people like us will stay in our prime?’
‘We’re both still young.’
‘You know, time never waits for anyone, especially not for glamour-girls like us.’
‘You’re right,’ I said, suddenly feeling older. ‘Just like the Huangpu River flowing on forever and, with it, our youth and beauty.’
Would this be her weakness – fear of losing her beauty, her possible fame and fortune, her magic? But why was she so fearful when she was yet in her prime?
She cast me a curious glance. ‘Camilla, I’m sure you’ve been carefully planning out your whole life, and that’s how you’ve got to where you are now.’
She was wrong, of course. But how could she have guessed that my life was not my own and that it had been strategically mapped out by others?
‘Shadow, I’m not as much in control as you think.’
‘I doubt that.’
After a pause she blurted out, ‘Camilla, do beauty and talent give you the happiness you’re looking for?’
Again, what a question. She must know that a pretty young girl like me would not really be in love with the old, puny, monkey-faced Lung.
But she’d never learn the truth from me. I threw her question back. ‘Shadow, how about you? Does your beauty and talent give you happiness – or trouble?’
We both laughed.
She raised her glass to tap my cup.
‘Let’s just hope that fate has a worthy purpose in granting us our beauty.’
I had my agenda, but what was hers?
As we resumed sipping our drinks and munching the delicacies, she asked, ‘Camilla, what made you want to be a singer?’
Of course my training had well prepared me to cover up such matters. I never told anything but lies about myself. The Art of War says, ‘To guard yourself, hide your secrets below nine layers of earth.’ In other words, others should know as little about you as possible.
‘It was my mother’s dream to be a singer; that’s why she sent me to take singing lessons.’
‘And your father?’
‘Oh, he died when I was a baby. My mother never talked about him. I guess it was too painful.’
‘Are you living with your mother?’
‘No, she’s in an asylum.’
‘Oh, how terrible! What happened?’
‘She became insane and can’t take care of herself. She’s much better now, being cared for by professionals. That’s why I have to work hard, to pay for her care.’
I had just made up another elaborate lie. I’d better remember to whom I told which story about my nonexistent parents – in case it mattered.
‘I’m so sorry. It must be very difficult for you.’
I changed the subject. ‘So, will you come to hear me sing at Bright Moon?’
‘Of course. I’ve been wanting that for a long time. I just didn’t have the connections to get in.’
‘Don’t worry. Just come tomorrow at eight, and I’ll tell the manager to let you in.’
The meeting with Shadow wore me out. So the following morning I arrived early at the winged-goddess statue by the Huangpu River. As usual, I went behind the gigantic column so I’d be left alone to practise. The sun had already risen over the wide river that seemed blissfully oblivious of the troubles and miseries of the human world. Staring at the peacefully rippling water always calmed me. What I loved most was that, though I would whisper my secrets to the river, it would never betray me by spreading them.
After I finished my vocal gymnastics, I turned around to watch the bustling boulevard. Vendors screamed their breakfast offerings: Wholesome soy milk! Tasty green bean soup! Sizzling scallion pancakes! Crispy fried dough! Extra juicy pork buns! Competing to be heard, street urchins shouted at full throttle: Leisure News! Heaven Daily! Flower Moon News! Pleasure Talk News! Idleness News! Amid the din, fast-walking businessmen with serious expressions lugged bulging briefcases, maids followed housewives carrying their shopping bags, children in uniforms headed towards school, coolies staggered under heavy boxes as they headed towards the piers …
The collective qi, or energy, of this city always fascinated me. Though pulling in every direction, the resulting cacophony created a strange harmony, chaotic yet orderly. As I watched the people and their intersecting lives in this dusty world, a song I’d written escaped from my lips:
Everyone has parents, but I don’t.
Where are you hiding, dear Mama and Baba?
When, if ever, will we meet?
Would we recognise each other,
Or merely rub shoulders as we pass?
Unexpectedly, a deep and mellow male voice rose beside me, singing the famous song ‘Looking for You.’
You are the floating cloud in the clear sky,
The fleeting star at midnight.
My heart is caught in a pool of passion.
How can I hold myself back,
Hold myself back from looking for you …
His voice sounded as if it could lure a lark down from a tall tree. When he finished, I could almost see the sad notes lingering above the rushing river, reluctant to end
their melodious incarnation on earth. I felt strangely drawn by the singer’s unseen presence behind me. When I turned, I found myself under the scrutiny of Master Lung’s son.
‘Hello, Young Master Lung.’ I quickly pulled myself up from the well of my dangerous sentimentality. ‘I never imagined … what a beautiful voice you have.’
Did he blush, or did I imagine it?
‘Good morning, Camilla … May I call you Camilla?’
‘Of course, Young Master.’
‘Camilla, my name is Jinying.’
I smiled, glancing at the crowds along the Bund. ‘What are you doing here so early in the morning?’
‘Listening to your singing.’
We looked at each other in silence for a moment before he spoke again. ‘Camilla, when I was watching, I saw the sun’s rays splashing all over you. I really thought I’d seen a goddess. Or an angel.’
If only he knew. If I was an angel at all, it would be to his father – as the angel of death.
He went on. ‘When I saw you, I could only think of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus.’
So he was already visualising me naked, my private parts covered only by long, flowing hair!
‘And your voice, heavenly and golden like the sun …’
I was not going to let him change the air by the river from foggy to romantic, so I responded matter-of-factly, changing the subject. ‘Young Master, how did you know I was here?’
‘I like to come here and watch the river. Last week I saw you practise. You were so absorbed that I was afraid to interrupt you.’
‘You don’t have to work?’
‘I just got my law degree and wanted to stay in America. But my father sent me a telegram saying that he was not feeling well and needed me to come home. So he lied to get me back here. At first I was furious at him, but now I’m happy.’
‘Happy, why?’
He blushed. ‘Anyway, it is the will of heaven …’
Yes, it is also the will of heaven that your father will soon die through my efforts.
Oblivious of my secret thoughts, he spoke again. ‘But I don’t want to be a lawyer. I only want to sing and play the piano. Camilla, I’m so glad that we share the same passion.’
I didn’t respond. So he went on. ‘May I take you for a morning coffee or tea?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
He made no effort to hide his disappointment. ‘You have something else to do this early in the morning?’
‘Not really, but I just met you. Besides, I don’t go out to cafes with men … Someone will see us and set off gossip.’
He protested. ‘You’re friends with my father, so it’s not like I am a stranger.’
‘Young Master, I am a very busy woman. I wish I had the luxury for chit-chat or wind-and-moon talk over a cup of bitter Western coffee or sweet Chinese tea. Besides, gossip is the last thing I need in my life.’
‘But—’
‘Sorry, I’ve got to go.’
‘Wait a minute,’ he said, then took something from his pocket. ‘Can you at least sign this for me?’
It was the fan I’d thrown into the audience the other night. ‘It was you who caught this? And you kept it?’
‘Of course! How could I have thrown it away?’
I quickly signed the fan and turned away.
As I walked, I felt his eyes drilling small holes through the morning fog into my back.
The young master incident threw me off balance, and it was not until much later that I regained my composure. He wanted friendship, something I could not allow myself to have.
Or maybe more?
How complicated this could turn out to be. I was bedding the father, while the son wanted me in his bed? When father and son competed for the same woman, would they destroy each other? Or would one step aside? If so, which one? That would be interesting to know. If Lung found out about his son’s advances, would he get rid of him? What if instead Lung thought that I had seduced his innocent son – would this be the end of me?
Now my mission to eliminate Lung faced two obstacles instead of one: Shadow and now the young master. But was Jinying really an obstacle or just a nuisance? Perhaps he could be distracted … by Shadow?
Conveniently, Master Lung told me he’d be out of town with Mr Zhu for a meeting. I grabbed the chance to invite both Shadow and young Master Lung to my show at Bright Moon. But I couldn’t invite the son without the father’s suspicion.
So I told Lung, ‘I’m very disappointed. I’m going to debut a few new songs, and I really want you to hear them!’
‘But you can sing them for me when I’m back, right?’
‘Of course, but that won’t be the same.’
‘How come?’
‘Because this is the premier, and your presence gives me lots of face!’
‘All right, all right …’ He paused to think, then cooed, ‘What if I send my son to represent me?’
Wonderful.
That evening onstage, I followed Madame Lewinsky’s advice to pick one person in the audience to focus on. To my alarm, my eyes, with wills of their own, went straight to meet Jinying’s. Just then the pianist hit the first note for ‘Night-time Shanghai.’ Throughout my whole performance, the gangster’s son’s eyes never left me. Not even to appreciate the sensuous Shadow sitting right next to him.
After finishing my act, I went to sit at their table. The young master poured me champagne. I took a delicate sip, appreciating my two handsome guests.
‘I hope you two have been getting to know each other?’
Shadow smiled. ‘We were too busy watching you and listening to your music.’
Jinying nodded.
‘Young Master—’
‘Please call me Jinying.’
‘Jinying, have you been making conversation with our beautiful Miss Shadow?’
‘Yes, we’ve been discussing your wonderful voice.’ He sipped his champagne and went on. ‘Camilla, when you sing, you are so spontaneous, hitting those high notes so effortlessly.’ He eyes searched mine like a miner looking for gold. ‘I know how hard you must work to achieve this.’
I sighed inside. The last thing I needed was for Lung’s son, of all people, to have a crush on me. If only he would switch his infatuation to Shadow. But my idea of getting him and Shadow together looked to be a bust.
What to do? All I could think was to try one last time.
I raised my glass, and we all toasted to one another. After that, I said to the magician, ‘Shadow, when you have your next show, please let me know, and I’ll definitely go.’ Then I turned to Lung’s son. ‘Jinying, you will be stunned by Shadow’s impossible magic.’
He smiled politely at the magician, then turned to me. ‘Sure, Camilla. Let me know, and you and I can go together.’
It was hopeless. Didn’t he worry that his father would discover his feelings for me? Surely he did not imagine that his father would be willing to share his mistress. I really didn’t need this; my life was complicated enough. But how could I get rid of him?
Just then I felt a pat on my shoulder. I turned and saw, to my surprise, Madame Lewinsky’s kind face smiling down at me.
Before I had a chance to say anything, my teacher was already speaking. ‘My darling Camilla’ – she winked at me, tilting her head towards Jinying – ‘congratulations. Your singing has improved so much!’ She leaned towards me and whispered into my ear, ‘I can feel your genuine emotion now.’
I asked, ‘You think so?’
She nodded. ‘Absolutely. I’m a woman, I can tell you’re in love.’
‘No, I’m not. No, no.’ My voice rose.
She smiled tenderly, like a mother at her daughter. ‘Camilla, trust me. I know these things. You’re fighting it, but you don’t need to. Just relax and give yourself some time, won’t you, my darling? Love is the most wonderful thing that can happen to a woman. If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears. Just pay me a visit.’
I paused before I said, changing th
e topic, ‘Madame Lewinsky, why didn’t you tell me you’d be here, so I could have sent you a ticket in advance? Please sit down and chat with us for a while.’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve got to go, but nice to meet you and your friends.’ Eyes sparkling with mischief, she again whispered into my ear, her head nodding towards Jinying, ‘He’s a really nice young man, and I can tell he’s madly in love with you. Remember, once your bird of youth has flown, it will never come back.’
After that, she cast another appreciative look at Jinying, turned back to wink at me, and left.
Jinying poured more champagne into my glass. ‘Who was that lady?’
‘My singing teacher.’
‘Then you should have introduced her to us.’
I explained that she was in a hurry, but the young master continued. ‘Maybe I should also take lessons from her.’
Alarmed, I exclaimed, ‘Oh, no, I am sure she is all booked!’
PART TWO
6
Life Between the Two Gangs
Among the city’s numerous black societies, the two most powerful, headed respectively by the warlords Master Lung and Big Brother Wang, were the Flying Dragons and the Red Demons. However, the Flying Dragons were always a few steps ahead of the Red Demons in their various ‘business enterprises’ – gambling, prostitution, opium, ‘protection,’ kidnapping and loan-sharking, as well as smuggling guns, gold, US dollars and medicines in, and national treasures out. Ironically, as the two gangs competed in illegal dealings, they also vied in doing charitable works.
My boss, Big Brother Wang’s, lifelong obsession was to destroy Lung so he could replace him not only as the richest and most feared boss of the Shanghai underworld but also as its most respected philanthropist.
That was how I came onto the scene – a minuscule screw wriggling between the city’s two most powerful machines.
Wang’s plan was to apply the famous meiren ji, beauty strategy or honey trap, one of the Thirty-Six Stratagems. Simple in principle and timeless in effectiveness, it involved sending beautiful women to eliminate anyone from lord to emperor. Twenty-five hundred years ago, during the chaotic era known as the Warring States, King Goujian of Yue used it to defeat King Fuchai of the State of Wu.
