“I see,” Lee said. “So prior to the 1911 revolution, China was ruled by a king and the general structure of society was that of a feudal state. I have no idea what that means, though,” Lee confessed.
“It can be confusing,” Xiang said as he sipped from his water. “A feudal state as it pertains to China means that the basic structure of society was a decentralized one, whereby land was held in exchange for labor. So, there were landowners of various levels of wealth and influence that owned the land in exchange for loyalty to the king. This loyalty usually included the obligation to provide military service. The landowners, in turn, owned peasants that worked their land and property in exchange for food and living quarters.”
“Okay, that makes sense, I guess.”
“I should clarify though that, at the beginning of the twentieth century, China was actually in a deviation of feudalism in which the king’s power was either very weak or non-existent and the landowners were all-powerful. These landowners were not so peaceful. Rather, they were military leaders, or warlords, and they held the real power in China at the time. The warlords were, in effect, the rulers of their territories, which they defended using military force. The warlords remained influential clear up until the C.C.P.’s revolutionary army finally defeated them in civil war, and the C.C.P. formally took power and re-united the country.”
“It does sound like a wild situation.”
“Yes, it was. It took many, many years for the C.C.P. to finally re-unite China, which didn’t happen until 1949. This was after a long struggle against both the territorial warlords, as well as the other political party—the Nationalists—which was the C.C.P.’s real nemesis. Both the C.C.P. and the Nationalists wanted to re-unite the whole of China under one flag and hold national power. Thus, the chaotic situation I described earlier was even more so because there was this third party that was also seeking power.”
“I can’t imagine what it would be like to live in such an environment,” Lee said. “I guess it’s been relatively stable in the U.S. for quite a while.”
“Yes, the U.S. has its own violent history but, as compared to China, it’s been relatively stable.”
“So, what happened in the 1911 revolution?”
“Yes, well this gives you the general background for the start of the revolution. There were a number of other factors that contributed as well. First, the Qing rulers were actually members of the Manchu, which were an ethnic minority in China. There was a lot of resentment coming from the Han, who were the large majority within the Chinese population as they still are to this day.
“The second was that the Qing dynasty, in the early 1900s, was in decline and ineffective at modernizing China and defeating foreign invasions. If there has been anything that has been unanimous in the Chinese people as a whole throughout its history, it has been the desire for Chinese modernization and hatred of foreign aggression.
“Anyway, at this time in Chinese history, there were a good many anti-Qing groups in China seeking power and attempting to overthrow them and re-establish a Han government. As the Qing’s effectiveness and influence waned, they sensed the opportunity to seize power. The Qing’s prestige had been severely reduced following a string of defeats of its army by both foreign and domestic invaders. For example, they lost the First and Second Opium War to the British in a series of skirmishes over the trade of opium from England into China.
“This led to a so-called ‘self-strengthening movement’ whereby they attempted to modernize by adopting a variety of Western technologies. China has been doing this throughout their modern history.”
“Doing what? Borrowing technology from the West?”
“Yes, exactly. They’ve been borrowing technology from the West. This has never been more so than in recent history. At least the C.C.P. leadership seems to have recognized the importance of striving to lead innovation, rather than always following behind.
“One of the organizations pushing against the Qing was called the Xingzhonghui, a Chinese terms meaning “Revive China Society.” Sun Yat-sen would later take leadership of this organization, which was merged with another separate group, and re-named the Tongmenhui, or “United League.” This was just one of many such revolutionary societies that had been formed both domestically and overseas at this time. It was Sun Yat-sen, however, who would ultimately play a crucial role in the 1911 revolution.
“Anyway, there was a long series of uprisings attempted by both Sun’s group as well as other groups. I mean, there were a great many of them. Sun Yat-sen, it has been said, participated in up to ten of them. But none of them were successful until the uprising at Wuchang. This uprising began as a revolt against the Qing government’s seizure and handover of a local railway development’s ventures to foreign powers. You see here, again, how sensitive the Chinese people had become to foreign intrusion.
“A couple of anti-Qing groups teamed up at this time to launch a revolt, which was initiated on October 11, 1911. This was the first revolt that was a success as the anti-Qing militia was able to take control of the entire city of Wuchang. This uprising then started a brief civil war between a broad set of revolutionary groups and the Qing. Eventually, the revolutionaries won the day, and the war was ended through a political compromise between Yuan Shikai, a Qing military strongman, and Sun Yat-sun, who had by then established himself as the leader of the revolutionary movement.”
“That’s wild,” Lee said. “China was such a complicated and unstable place.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a server. Lee’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food. They waited in silence as the server slid their food in front of them.
“To say the least,” Xiang said. “I mean, even after this agreement was finished and the Republic of China was formed and the Qing court had transferred power to the republic, this new government was monopolized by Yuan and this led to many years of instability. This instability was characterized by continued political division and several more attempts to restore the Qing.”
“Wow,” Lee said, shaking her head. “This was in the early nineteen hundreds. So, while the U.S. was going through advances in mass production, the assembly line, the development of airplanes and autos, and leading into World War One, this was all going on in distant China.”
“Exactly! Keep in mind that most of China in this time was still dominated by the feudal setup with landowners and, particularly, the warlords. The warlords would actually continue to hold power throughout China into the 1930s and, in parts of China, clear up until 1949 until Chairman Mao and his People’s Army, led in part by Deng Xiaoping, overpowered the warlords in a series of battles throughout the 1930s and 1940s. That’s how far behind technologically and in terms of stability the Chinese were as compared to the Western world.”
Lee caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and Xiang literally jumped as his concentration was broken. A man and a woman, both of Chinese descent, had quietly approached the table. They were dressed formally, the man in a black suit and tie and the woman in a pink, red, purple, and black blouse and a long black skirt that fell to her feet. Lee estimated the man was probably in his mid-thirties and the woman in her early thirties. While the man was short and thin, and with seemingly no distinguishable features, the woman was tall and thin, her hair tight against her skull and cropped into a ball behind her head. Her smooth, pale skin shone with a subtle, candescent gleam in the flickering light of the lantern. She had a thin, radiant smile that, Lee thought, rivaled her own. Lee noticed that she was actually taller than the man, though it could’ve been due to the high heels she was wearing.
“Hello,” the man said. “Sorry we’re late.”
Xiang returned the greeting.
The man nodded at Lee. “Do you mind if I slide in beside you?”
Lee pulled her coat closer to her to allow him room. “Not at all.”
“Lyn, this is Phua Youhong, my friend I told you about earlier,” Xiang said, pointing his uptur
ned hand to the man seated next to her.
“And this is Meng Ge, but she goes by Susan here in the States.”
Susan, smiling, reached across the table toward Lee. Lee shook the thin, delicate hand more firmly than she meant to.
“Hello, Ms. Lee,” Susan said.
“Please, call me Lyn.”
“Youhong works for Ambassador Li in the embassy here in New York,” Xiang explained. “Susan has been here in New York for two years now. She works for—” Xiang struggled to remember her employer.
“I’ve been working for Zou, Meng, Tong, and Associates,” Susan said. “It’s a consulting firm. We help American businesses enter the Chinese marketplace.”
“You’re a friend of Youhong?” Lee asked.
Susan smiled broadly. “You could say that. We’ve been dating for a few months.”
“Eight months,” Phua clarified.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” Susan offered.
“That’s okay,” Xiang said. “I was just trying to convey the complexity of Chinese history to Lyn. Particularly the time around the 1911 revolution.”
“Ah! Better to know history so as not to make the same mistakes twice,” Susan said, her smooth skin crinkled slightly around her thin eyes as her face morphed into an appropriately mischievous expression.
“Sometimes easier said than done,” Lee said. “For me, at least.”
Susan Meng and Phua Youhong studied their menus, given to them by the hostess, in silence for a few moments. Finally, Phua broke the silence. “I’m afraid that Xiang’s been a bit shy about discussing you. May I ask how you met him?”
An expression of amused bewilderment crossed Xiang’s face. This previous expression then segued into a sarcastic grin. He tossed a piece of his napkin at Phua which he’d already torn off and crumpled into a tiny ball.
“Trust me, Lyn, when I say this is not true. I’ve told Phua just about everything I know about you.”
“Do you want me to tell him, Xiang?” Lee asked. “Because I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
“Oh by all means. He knows already anyway.”
“I met Xiang at a work conference,” Lee explained. “He asked me out over the company intranet.”
“Over the company intranet?” Susan said. She’d thrown her eyes wide, feigning an expression of surprise. “Scandalous!” Susan’s eyes narrowed into slits, yet they also sparkled softly. It wasn’t a smile that Lee found threatening but, rather, friendly.
“And you were okay with this?” Phua asked.
“Certainly,” Lee said. “It was a small risk, but it was fine. It’s flattering when someone is willing to take a risk for you, don’t you think?”
“I understand,” Phua said. “Well, let’s just say this isn’t the first time Xiang has been willing to mix business with pleasure.”
“Yes, hardly,” Susan said. “And likely won’t be the last.”
“Okay, enough,” Xiang said. “I didn’t invite you two here to rag on me all night long.”
“Let me try to deflect the conversation for you, Xiang,” Lee said.
“Please do.”
“Mr. Phua, may I ask what it is that you do for the ambassador?”
Phua pursed his lips and adjusted his tie with his right hand. “I’m the assistant ambassador. I have many of the same responsibilities as the ambassador, only on a smaller scale. I fill in for him at many events if he doesn’t have the time to attend, which happens quite frequently. I’m also responsible for managing several of the more mission-critical departments within the embassy.”
“Which departments?”
“For example, the Policy Department, Office of Consular Affairs, and Office of Commercial Affairs, among others.”
“So you give lots of speeches, attend a lot of dinners, shake a lot of hands. That kind of thing.”
Phua laughed gently. “Yes, something like that. A big part of my job is promoting Chinese business enterprise her in the U.S. So, yes there’s a lot of—how should I say? What is the best English word?”
Phua thought for a moment.
“Schmoozing?” Lee said.
Phua smiled broadly. “Yes, exactly. I do a lot of schmoozing.” Phua thought for a moment longer. “And that is why I always have Susan. Every statesman needs a pretty face by his side.”
This prompted a swift kick from Susan underneath the table. “I’m far more than just a pretty face,” Susan said. “Believe me, if Youhong didn’t have my financial expertise available to him, he wouldn’t be able to function in his current role nearly as well as he does.”
Phua reached part of the way underneath the table. Lee imagined he was rubbing his leg where Susan had struck him. “It’s true. My background is in government and politics. Susan has been a lifesaver for me. She works with businessmen every day and she’s become—”
At that moment, Lee’s attention was momentarily diverted to the other side of the restaurant where the torso of a slim brunette holding a microphone had materialized. The woman was dressed in a black evening gown with silver sequins. Lee assumed she was standing upon a small stage, but the brick partition had kept it out of her line of sight. A small band had begun to play behind the woman. This necessitated that Phua speak louder in order to be heard over the din.
“What did you say?” Lee asked.
“She’s become very adept at her work,” Phua said.
Lee looked Susan Meng in the eye. She decided to ask a bold question. “And what do you get in return?”
Ming’s eyebrows elevated subtly. The question had the intended effect, which was that of surprise. “Pardon?”
“What do you get in return, Susan? In return for your expertise?” The folds of Meng’s eyes crinkled again, smiling placidly at her. Lee thought that Meng had as good an ability to hide behind her smile as anyone she’d ever met, with the possible exception of herself.
“Access,” Meng said.
“Access to what?”
“To angel investors.”
Lee frowned. “Angel investors?”
“Yes, Lyn. Seed money. For start-ups.”
“Is that part of your job with the consulting firm? Finding seed money for new businesses?”
“No, it’s not for me or my employer,” Meng said. “At least, not directly.” Meng’s face curled into that broad, confident smile. “It’s for my father.”
“Your father?”
Meng smiled from ear to ear. Her small teeth, pearly white, matched her earrings. “That’s right. My father is an investor.”
“A big-time investor,” Xiang said.
“What does he invest in?” Lee asked.
“Technology.”
“Such as?”
“Any number of things: quantum computers, medical technologies, mobile computing, nuclear power, just to name a few.”
Lee began to fan herself with a napkin. A flash of heat had seemingly burst inside her, as though she was blushing. Too much wine, she thought. She’d have to quit drinking it. She pushed it away from her and took a sip of water.
“Impressive,” Lee said. “So he’s been successful?”
“I think so, yes.”
Xiang spoke up again. “Successful would be an understatement.”
Lee was tempted to ask his net worth, but she knew it would most likely be interpreted as having been said in poor taste, and she didn’t want to risk it. “Wow. He must be an amazing talent. What’s it like having someone like that as your father?”
“I have to say it was pretty amazing. He’s taught me so much.”
“What does he teach you?”
Meng shrugged. She placed her right arm with her elbow on the table and tucked her right knuckles under her chin, supporting her head. She smiled again. She projects such confidence, Lee thought. It comes so naturally for her.
“He’s taught me how to invest, of course. How to work the system. And he introduced me to some of his connections.”
Lee shrug
ged. “Well, I can see why you think so highly of him. Congratulations on his—your—success.”
“Thank you. It was all my father’s doing, really. I can’t take any credit for it.”
She knows the value of projecting modesty, Lee thought. She pondered if that was as culturally true in China as in the U.S., or if that was also something she’d learned from her father.
As the others spoke, Lee began to notice a feeling of drowsiness come over her. The mouths of her new friends were moving, but she seemed to keep losing her sense of the conversation. She took a few more sips of her ice water to wake herself.
The four of them fell into silence for a while until Phua asked Susan if she wanted to dance. Lee hadn’t realized that a handful of couples had risen from their booths and were now dancing in front of the stage.
“Do you want to dance, Xiang?”
Xiang’s eyes drooped again and he frowned.
Lee laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Xiang. We have to keep up with your friends.” Lee extended her hand. Xiang rose from the table, took her hand, and led her across the room to a small dance floor. Xiang took her left hand in his; she felt his left hand slide onto her waist. There was a trace of sweetness to his smell that reminded her of the honey bread she used to pull fresh out of the oven at her parents’ shop.
The music was too loud for conversation, so they just danced. As the vocalist sang, a drowsiness swept over her. She found it increasingly difficult to focus her eyes as they moved between the dance floor and a series of elevated booths around the perimeter designed with floral arrangements and layers of lustrous Oriental cloth. She reached around Xiang’s neck with her right hand to rub her eyes, but it didn’t seem to help. The band was well into the second song when she began to feel numb, as though somehow outside of herself, and she seemed to be losing some of her coordination.
“Xiang?”
“What is it?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“I know I’m a bad dancer, but you invited me, remember?”
“No, I mean something’s wrong with me.”
The Thought Cathedral Page 24
