The Sing-song Girls of Shanghai

by Bangqing Han

  He smiled without replying and returned to the table quietly. Lotuson Wang had caught the conversation faintly but pretended he had not heard. The two of them finished the pot of wine and asked for rice. Constance, who had now finished her toilet, sat down at the table’s humble side to eat with them.

  The meal over, Benevolence set out for the jewelry stores in the Old City, while Lotuson told Constance to toast more opium for him. After smoking a dozen pellets, his appetite was finally satisfied. Benevolence returned as the clock struck five. He had only bought two items, the bracelets and the comb, which cost over four hundred dollars. He could not find the right quality for the rest and so had left them until another day. Overjoyed, Lotuson thanked him for his trouble.

  Benevolence had business to attend to at the Flourishing Ginseng Store, so he took his leave. Lotuson Wang also bade Constance good-bye and went by sedan chair to West Floral Alley to deliver the jewelry to Little Rouge.

  “Where’s Mr. Hong?” Little Rouge asked as soon as she saw him.

  “He’s gone home.”

  “Well, did he go and get it?”

  “He bought a couple of things.” He lifted the lid off the cardboard box, took out the comb and bracelets, and put them on the table. “Take a look. The bracelets are all right, but the comb is not quite as good. If you don’t like it, we’ll send it back and get another one.”

  She didn’t even take a proper look at the jewelry. “That’s not a whole set. Just put it there,” she said indifferently.

  He hastened to return everything to the box, which he then put in a drawer of the dressing table. “He couldn’t find the right quality for the rest of the set. I’ll go and make the choice myself in a couple of days.”

  “Well, since all I get are the leftovers, what quality is there to speak of?” she said.

  “Whose leftovers are you talking about?”

  “Why were these things taken to the other place first?”

  In his agitation, Lotuson produced the sales slip to show her. “Look, it’s all on the sales slip.”

  She pushed it aside. “I’m not interested.”

  He backed away dejectedly. Pearlie, who happened to come in to freshen the tea, guffawed. “Mr. Wang has had too much fun at Constance’s, so it’s right he comes here for a little talking to, no?”

  He could only smile awkwardly and let it pass.

  It was getting dark. Talisman submitted an invitation from Elan Ge, asking him to dinner at Snow Scent’s. As Little Rouge was looking displeased, Lotuson took the opportunity to leave. She neither detained him nor saw him out.

  Lotuson went by sedan chair to Snow Scent’s. The host, Elan Ge, came up to greet him and asked him to be seated. Only two guests had come before him. When they introduced themselves, he learned that one was Second Bai Gao, the other Devotion Yin. Although this was their first meeting, Lotuson had long been aware of their reputation as talented poets of Zhejiang and Jiangsu provinces.1 He saluted them, saying, “Delighted to meet you.”

  Then the attendants outside reported, “The guest at Sky in a Wine Pot said please take your seat first.” So Elan Ge told them to set the table. Lotuson Wang asked who else was coming. “Iron Hua” was the reply.

  This Iron Hua, the guest of honor, was a family friend of Lotuson’s. Since he did not like crowds, Elan Ge only invited three guests to keep him company. After a moment’s wait, he arrived with his girl, White Orchid. Elan Ge issued three call chits and asked everyone to come to the table.

  “Have you met the woman of your dreams yet?” Iron Hua asked Second Bai. When the latter shook his head, he said, “You’d never expect a man of such sensibilities as Second Bai would be so hard to please.”

  “I quite understand his temperament,” Devotion Yin said. “A pity I’m not a courtesan. If I were one, I’d make him thoroughly lovesick and die of longing for me in Shanghai.”

  Second Bai laughed. “Though you’re not a courtesan, I’m still pining for you.”

  Devotion Yin also broke out laughing. “I suppose I brought the insult on myself.”2

  Iron Hua quoted: “‘Everybody wishes to be the master’s concubine. Marriage ties to be realized in the next incarnation.’ This makes a good anecdote, too.”

  Devotion Yin insisted on punishing Second Bai for the insult and told Little Sister to get the large wine cups.

  “With his capacity, drinking is no punishment for him,” Iron Hua said.

  The argument was still going on when the girls arrived. Second Bai had called River Blossom, and Devotion Yin Green Fragrance, both virgin courtesans, while Lotuson Wang just called Constance from across the way. When the finger game started, the girls vied with one another to substitute for the penalty wine. Second Bai, set on getting Devotion Yin drunk, would not allow any substitutes for him. Lotuson, guessing what he was after, helped him to make fun of Devotion. But Devotion excelled at the game and actually got Lotuson drunk first.

  Constance stayed until Lotuson was banker and, before she left, advised him repeatedly not to drink anymore. However, Iron Hua was as keen a drinker as Second Bai. When the finger game was over and the girls were gone, he wanted to play the drinking game Catch Seven, and the others had no choice but to keep him company. Lotuson Wang, who was less than alert, kept making mistakes and ended up drinking a lot more. At one point, he felt he could not bear up any longer, so he did not wait for the end of the game but just went to lie down on the divan. Seeing this, Iron Hua wound up the game hastily.

  Elan Ge asked Lotuson Wang to have a little congee, but he waved it away and instead tried to toast some opium. Since he could not hold the pick steadily over the flame, the opium dripped on the tray. Snow Scent called at once for Little Sister to help fill the pipe, but Lotuson again waved her away. Then he suddenly got up, saluted everybody, and took his leave. Elan Ge could not very well detain him, so he saw him off at the door and told Talisman to attend to him carefully.

  Talisman saw Lotuson into the sedan chair, hung up the chair curtain, fixed the hand rest, and asked, “Where to, sir?”

  “West Floral,” replied Lotuson. With Talisman running beside the sedan chair, they went straight to Little Rouge’s in West Floral Alley, alighting in the parlor.

  As Lotuson headed up the stairs, Pearlie hurried out from the kitchen and called out loudly, “Aiyo! Mr. Wang, watch your step!” Lotuson did not answer, just kept running. A smiling Pearlie followed closely behind him into Little Rouge’s room, saying, “You gave me a fright, Mr. Wang. It’s a good thing you didn’t trip and fall.”

  He looked around and did not see Little Rouge, so he asked Pearlie.

  “She’s probably downstairs.”

  He asked no more, just collapsed onto the leather chair by the bed. Fully dressed and not even asking for opium, he dropped off. A manservant brought a kettle and a hot towel.

  “Mr. Wang, would you like to wipe your face?” Pearlie whispered. He did not answer. She signaled the manservant with her eyes for him just to fill the teacup and go. Then she walked quietly out, tapped three times on door of the mezzanine room, and said, “Mr. Wang is asleep.”

  Perhaps these events were decreed by fate. Now although Lotuson was snoring loudly, he was not asleep and was greatly surprised by Pearlie’s behavior. The minute she went downstairs, he got up and walked softly to the back of the parlor. There was some light in the mezzanine room. He pushed at the door to find it barred from the inside. He looked around and saw there was a hole the size of a pigeon egg in the partition wall, so he peeped in. There had always been just a divan in the mezzanine room, without bed curtains, so everything was visible at a glance. He saw two people lying on the divan in each other’s embrace; one was definitely Little Rouge, and the other was a familiar face as well. He searched his memory: it was none other than Little Willow, the male lead of the theater troupe at Panorama Garden.

  Lotuson was in a towering rage. He turned round, rushed into Little Rouge’s room, and made for the dressing table by the b
ed. A violent shove brought it toppling to the ground, with lamps, mirrors, clock, vases, and all. As for whether the newly purchased jade comb and bracelets in the drawer were broken, we will never know. When the maid Pearlie heard the noise, she rushed upstairs, knowing things had gone wrong. The servant girl Goldie and a few menservants also came in a body. Lotuson was now at the divan. He picked up the opium tray and threw it at the center table, scattering all the equipment and ornaments in it across the room. Pearlie flung her arms around him from behind, holding on to him desperately by the waist. Though always timid and frail, at this moment Lotuson was as strong as a tiger. Pearlie was no match for him; he was rid of her with one hefty kick. Even Goldie backed away several steps.

  Lotuson picked up the opium pipe and lashed out at everything around the room. Except for the two hanging paraffin lamps, everything made of glass—table lamps, wall lamps, glass frames of paintings, the wardrobe mirror, and the framed panel over the bed—was smashed to smithereens. Although there were three or four menservants present, the most they could do was put themselves between Lotuson and his target because they dared not lay hands on him. Talisman and the two sedan-chair bearers peeped in from behind the door curtain but did not enter the room. Goldie stood trembling to one side, stunned. Pearlie, unable to climb to her feet, merely kept shouting in panic, “Don’t, Mr. Wang!”

  He heard nothing, just kept hitting out wildly, battering his way to and fro across the room. In the heat of this uncontrollable rampage, a young man dashed into the room, threw himself on the ground, and started kowtowing, shouting, “Have mercy, Mr. Wang! Have mercy, Mr. Wang!”

  Lotuson saw that it was Little Rouge’s own brother. The sight of him kowtowing on the floor touched a soft spot in Lotuson’s heart. With a sigh, he threw down the opium pipe, pushed his way out of the crowd, and rushed off. Startled, Talisman and the two sedan-chair bearers hurried after him. He did not take the sedan chair, though, just ran straight out the front door. Leaving the bearers behind, Talisman gave chase. He saw Lotuson going into East Co-prosperity Alley; only then did he turn back to fetch the sedan chair.

  Lotuson ran to Constance’s and burst into her room without waiting to be announced. He collapsed on the chair panting and gasping, trying to catch his breath. This gave Constance such a turn that she just stared at him, not daring to ask what had happened. After a long while, she tested the waters with a question, “Has the party been over for a while now?” He glared straight ahead without a word. She secretly sent her maid to find out from Talisman, who had just arrived with the sedan chair. On being told briefly what had happened, the maid came back and whispered into Constance’s ear. Only then was she reassured. Failing to think of anything to say that would divert Lotuson, she went and filled a pipe of opium, asked him to smoke, and then unbuttoned and took off his summer silk gown for him.

  He went through a dozen pellets of opium in silence. She waited on him attentively but did not attempt to talk to him. After about an hour, she asked quietly, “Would you like a little congee?” He shook his head. “Then let’s go to bed.” He nodded. So she passed on the order to Talisman to take the sedan chair home and told the maid to make the bed. Constance helped him out of his clothes, took off his socks, and lay down with him. As she drifted off to sleep, she could still hear him groaning and sighing as he tossed and turned.

  By the time Constance woke up the morning, sun was shining on the window. She saw Lotuson lying there staring at the canopy of the bed. She could not help asking, “Did you get any sleep?” He still did not answer. She sat up, tucked up her hair a bit, and bent down to ask him, her face close to his, “Why are you like this? If you let this anger ruin your health, is it worth it?”

  What she said suddenly gave him an idea. He pushed her aside, sat up in bed, and asked her huffily, “I want to ask you: will you help me get even?”

  Failing to understand what he meant, Constance’s face flushed red in agitation. “What are you talking about? Did I do you wrong?”

  Seeing that she had taken it the wrong way, Lotuson actually broke into a smile. He hooked an arm around her neck and lay down with her, explaining at length about Little Rouge’s scandal and his intention to marry Constance as a concubine. Would Constance show any objection? She was all willingness and obedience, and the matter was settled at once.

  Presently, the two of them got up to wash. He told the maid to summon Talisman, who had been in attendance since early in the morning. He came in at once. Lotuson first asked whether there was any official business.

  “None,” Talisman replied. “But Little Rouge’s brother and her maid came to the residence, crying, smiling, and kowtowing, saying to ask Master to call in.”

  Before he had finished, Lotuson barked at him, “I don’t want to hear about it!”

  He answered “yes, sir” several times, took two steps back, and stood stiffly at attention, waiting for orders. After a while, Lotuson said, “Ask Mr. Hong here.”

  Talisman went downstairs bearing the message, left word for the sedan-chair bearers, and went his way. He thought to himself: best to go first to Little Rouge’s to report the news and get credit for it. So he turned to West Floral Alley from the northern end of East Co-prosperity Alley. Little Rouge’s brother was overjoyed. Talisman was invited into the bookkeeper’s room, where the brother respectfully presented him with a water pipe.

  Talisman smoked as he said, “I don’t have much of an idea except for putting in a good word for you. Now I’m told to go and invite Mr. Hong. I suggest you come with me and ask Mr. Hong to think of something. That’d be much more effective than anything I say.”

  Full of gratitude, Little Rouge’s brother told Pearlie about it, and the three of them went on their way. They headed for Twin Pearl’s at Sunshine Alley, only to learn that Benevolence was not there. So they each took a ricksha to Lu Stone Bridge at Little East Gate and from there walked to the Flourishing Ginseng Store. The apprentice at the store knew Talisman and hastened to announce him. The minute Benevolence Hong came out into the parlor, Little Rouge’s brother went up and kowtowed to him, his face soon wet with crying and sniveling as he told of Mr. Wang’s inexplicable anger and so on and so forth. After hearing him out, Benevolence had a pretty good idea of what had happened.

  “What are you here for?” He turned to Talisman.

  “My master asks you to drop in at Constance’s, sir,” said Talisman.

  Benevolence bowed his head and thought for a moment and then told the two men to wait in the parlor while he and the maid Pearlie went into an inner room for detailed consultation.

  ::

  1. Zhejiang and Jiangsu were the two provinces well known over the ages for producing literary talent.

  2. Though homosexual relationships were not rare in dynastic China, it was still an insult to say that a man took on the woman’s role in such a relationship.

  CHAPTER 34 :: The wanton shrew gets her just punishment, and the cuckolded lover gets married in revenge

  Talisman and Little Rouge’s brother waited in the parlor for a long time. When the maid Pearlie finally came out, she unexpectedly took Little Rouge’s brother off with her. Talisman had to wait a little longer before Benevolence Hong came out to tell him, “They want me to put in a good word for them in front of Mr. Wang. Since I’m his friend, it’s a bit awkward. What about this: I’ll take Mr. Wang to their place, and they can do the talking themselves, what d’you think?”

  Talisman was of course all for it. So Benevolence went to Constance’s in East Co-prosperity Alley in a ricksha, with Talisman in tow.

  Lotuson Wang had just ordered four small dishes and was drinking in glum solitude. When Benevolence came in, Lotuson invited him to sit down.

  “Worn out from last night?” Benevolence asked, smiling.

  “So now you’re teasing me! I did ask you to find out about her, but you refused,” Lotuson replied in mock vexation.

  “What was there to find out?”

  “When a
courtesan takes up with an actor, aren’t there many ways of finding out about it?”

  “It was you who brought about all this by taking her on carriage rides; that was how the whole thing came about. Didn’t I tell you Little Rouge incurred too much expense because of carriage rides? Too bad you didn’t catch my meaning.”

  Lotuson held up a hand to stop him. “Say no more. Let’s drink.”

  The maid brought another cup and a pair of chopsticks, while Constance came over to pour the wine herself. Lotuson said to Benevolence, “Forget about the green jade jewelry set.” He produced another shopping list consisting, among other things, of a dark blue cape and a scarlet skirt—a bride’s outfit—and asked Benevolence to see to it as soon as possible.

  “Congratulations!” Benevolence smiled at Constance, who was so embarrassed she walked away.

  Benevolence then turned to Lotuson and said earnestly, “Your marriage to Maestro Constance is a fine thing. But it’d be a bit awkward if you stop going to Little Rouge’s just like that.”

  “Awkward or not, it’s none of your business!” Lotuson retorted, losing his temper.

  Somewhat embarrassed, Benevolence smiled and said mildly, “That’s not what I mean. Since Little Rouge has no other client but yourself, if you stop going, she’ll be at a loss. And with the festival approaching, she’ll have to pay up her many bills. Then there’re her parents and brother; the family needs food and money, too. What can she do about it? If she sees no way out, she just might take her own life. Now Little Rouge’s life may not matter much, but if she dies because of you, it’d be a blemish on your karma, too. We come out to look for fun, not bad karma, so why push it?”

  Lotuson pondered and nodded. “So—you, too, are speaking up for them.”

  Benevolence’s face turned livid. “What d’you mean by that? Why would I want to speak up for them?”

  “You’re telling me to go to her place, isn’t that speaking up for them?”