The Interior

by Lisa See

  In the morning he’d met with the representative of a hotel that was in a dispute with a California winery over a shipment of chardonnay. His next appointment was with an American man who came with his Chinese partner. They had a factory that manufactured women’s clothing made from pigskin. For five years this venture had operated smoothly, with the products having a steady growth in the United States. Unfortunately, the tanner had become involved with some unsavory types, and now the whole enterprise faced investigation by the government. The American in particular was worried about his rights. Was there anything that David could do to help?

  At a quarter to five, David and Miss Quo left the office, and Investigator Lo drove them to the Zhongnanhai compound next to the Forbidden City to meet with Governor Sun Gan, who served on the Central Committee representing Shanxi Province. As the car pushed through traffic, Miss Quo ran through David’s itinerary for his trip to Knight International. On Thursday, he would have private meetings with the American managers of the factory and the Knights—father and son. On Friday, they would meet with Governor Sun and the other VIP-ers, as Miss Quo called Randall Craig and the Tartan team. On Saturday, after a ceremony at the Knight compound, they would all fly back to Beijing on the two companies’ private jets for a series of banquets and meetings with top officials from Knight, Tartan, and the Chinese government. Miles Stout would also fly in to attend. The Sunday evening banquet would culminate in the signing of the closing documents.

  Once at the Zhongnanhai compound, Miss Quo led the way to the small private office the governor used while in Beijing. She made the introductions, carefully translating the conversation. By the quality of the fabric and cut, David surmised that Sun’s navy blue pinstripe suit had been tailored either in Hong Kong or London. Despite this surface sophistication and his age—Sun looked to be in his late sixties—his ruddy complexion and the strength of his handshake attested to a life spent largely outdoors in physical labor.

  The two men sat down in overstuffed burgundy velvet chairs, while Miss Quo took a straight-back chair a little to David’s left. For the next couple of minutes Miss Quo spoke in Mandarin. David recognized certain words—baba and cha—and knew that they were exchanging pleasantries about Miss Quo’s father and negotiating the ever important issue of whether or not the guests would drink tea. Their chatter came to a close. Sun himself poured three cups of tea, and then he began to speak in a smooth, confident voice, pausing occasionally to let Miss Quo translate. During the next twenty minutes, as Sun spoke in glowing terms of the attributes of his home province, he never took his eyes off David. Under other circumstances David might have chafed under this scrutiny, but Sun had a warmth about him. He was down-to-earth and, if Miss Quo’s translation was accurate, very direct.

  “Governor Sun wishes you to know that he has encouraged many foreign businesses to come to his province,” Miss Quo said as Sun came to the conclusion of his remarks. “Every year it becomes easier to reach. Shanxi has built a new expressway, making Taiyuan only five hours away from Beijing by car or bus, while a plane takes only minutes. He thinks it’s important for you to know that he believes that within ten years his province will be a leader for economic investment in the interior.”

  “How does Governor Sun plan to accomplish his goals?”

  Miss Quo dutifully translated David’s question, listened as Sun replied in Mandarin, then said, “As you know, China is in a period of great change. Supreme Leader Deng Xiaoping encouraged us to move forward with economic reform.”

  “To get rich is glorious,” David quoted.

  “Precisely.” Miss Quo nodded. “But there are some things that he did not want to see change. Since his death our country can now move forward on some of those programs. This is what Governor Sun is promoting here in Beijing as well as in Shanxi. Historically, he says, change can only come from the countryside. He has proposed one-person, one-vote balloting in local elections that would be open to party and non-party candidates alike. He has worked hard to abolish rice-eating finance.”

  At David’s puzzled look, she explained, “This is a phrase used by Premier Zhu Rongji. It means he wants to cut our country’s bureaucracy, which so often promotes corruption. Governor Sun greatly supports these new ideas and believes that they will eventually lead to greater freedoms for the Chinese people, increased prosperity, and a better relationship with our brothers in the West.”

  “That all sounds wonderful,” David said. “But why has Governor Sun invited me here?”

  Miss Quo didn’t attempt to hide her displeasure. “You ask too forward a question.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Miss Quo,” Sun said, speaking in near-perfect English.

  David had fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the Chinese book. Of course this man would speak English.

  “I thought it would be wise to meet you before we see each other at Knight International,” Sun said. “I have nothing but the greatest respect for Mr. Knight and Mr. Craig. Henry Knight is an old friend while Mr. Craig is new. Still, I think it is good for us to become friends ourselves. In this manner the road of business is smooth.”

  “I agree fully,” David said.

  Sun offered David a saucer filled with dried watermelon seeds. “But I must admit that I have what you would probably call ulterior reasons for meeting with you today,” Sun continued. “Like many of us in China who read the newspaper or watch television, I’m familiar with the good work you did for our country earlier this year. But we both know that what was in the news was not the full truth of those days. I do hope you’ll forgive my immodesty when I say that I’ve been permitted the great privilege of sitting in on conversations with people very high in our government who are aware of the true nature of your deeds. Our nation has been honored by your work in uncovering corruption in our government as well as in your own.”

  David was in a country with the world’s largest population, and yet he felt as though he had moved to a small town where everyone knew everyone else’s business. Before he could say anything, however, Sun went on.

  “I too am very concerned about corruption. As Premier Zhu has observed, the collecting of illegal fees sows seething discontent among the people. So, as you might say, you and I are on the same wavelength. I think that two people of such like minds should work together. I would be honored if you would accept me as a client.”

  “Are you in trouble?” David asked, the litigator in him showing through.

  An awkward silence followed, and David felt Miss Quo’s disapproving eyes on him. Then Sun laughed heartily and said, “Some people say that bluntness is the worst trait of Americans. In China we would never use words so freely. Well, maybe after you and I had known each other for ten thousand years and had been meeting here every day for ten thousand weeks, perhaps then you would have shown this weakness. But actually this characteristic is what I love about Americans as a people. You speak your mind. It makes you so very transparent, but I must admit it is refreshing.”

  The remarks were condescending, but Sun’s affability took the sting out of them.

  “To answer your question,” Sun continued, “no, I’m not in trouble. But people have many reasons to need lawyers.”

  “I’m not an expert on Chinese law,” David said. “You’d be better served by a Chinese law firm.”

  “You see, Miss Quo, there he is showing his open heart to us again,” Sun said.

  Miss Quo cast her eyes down modestly, pleased that her new boss had fallen into favor with such a powerful man.

  “I don’t need someone who is familiar with Chinese law,” Sun said after a moment. “As your Miss Quo has already explained, I act on behalf of my province and my country when foreign companies come calling. I have actively sought foreign investment in Shanxi. You must understand, until very recently we didn’t do much business using contracts. You don’t need things like that when the government owns every business, factory, and farm. So in China we’ve had many problems with outsiders as we nego
tiate our deals. I think foreigners would be pleased to deal with someone like you who understands their ways. What I’m proposing is that you represent me both as an individual, for I have many investments of my own, and as the representative of Shanxi Province.”

  “It would be a conflict for me to represent you in any dealings with Tartan,” David said.

  “Again, that’s just one deal. It’s my job to bring many foreign companies to Shanxi.”

  “If I represent you, I’ll be privy to many aspects of your business. There may be things you won’t want Tartan to know and vice versa.”

  “Lawyers are supposed to be discreet.”

  “Discretion isn’t the problem,” David said. “Many clients simply prefer to know that there’ll never be a chance that their affairs will be anything other than completely private, that work product won’t somehow get misplaced or misfiled, that no one will be in the office and glance at something they shouldn’t see.”

  “What you’re saying, Attorney Stark, is making me nervous about you and Phillips, MacKenzie…”

  “We are scrupulous with all work product, but accidents can happen. Not to mention…”

  When David hesitated, Sun finished for him. “You’re in China and you can’t guarantee complete confidentiality anyway.”

  David turned his palms up and surrendered to that truth, then added, “In addition, what if five years from now there’s a disagreement between you and Tartan?”

  “There won’t be,” Sun said.

  “But what if there were?” David persisted. “Wouldn’t you want to know that your affairs had always been totally secure?”

  “We’re both working toward the same ends,” Sun said. “There are no conflicts and there never will be.”

  “Still, if there were, I’d have to choose which client I’d represent. I’m afraid it would have to be Tartan.”

  “Because it’s a bigger client than I am.”

  “And because my firm has represented Tartan longer.”

  “This is all right with me.”

  “Then let me call my office and Tartan to see how they feel about it. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can with their answers as well as a waiver that you’ll need to sign.”

  Governor Sun stood, signaling the end of the meeting. He shook David’s hand, looked deeply into his eyes, and said, “As soon as you get your waiver, I’ll send you a report of my various activities.” He walked David and Miss Quo to the door. He bowed his head. “If you need anything before I see you later this week, please call my assistant Amy Gao.” Then Sun turned his attention to a delegation of businessmen waiting in the foyer.

  “There’s something quite wonderful about listening to people’s troubles, then trying to help them,” David said to Hulan that night. “I made a couple of phone calls this afternoon and was able to resolve the problems with the winery. The pig thing will be a little more difficult, but Miss Quo has already drafted a couple of letters to whom she says are the right people. Hopefully we’ll be able to have some meetings at the beginning of next week after the signing of the Knight deal and those pig guys can go back to their manufacturing with no more problems.”

  Hulan thought David still had a lot to learn about the way things worked in China.

  He’d saved the news of his meeting with Governor Sun for last. Hulan absorbed the details, listening carefully for the usual Chinese nuances that David might have missed. They both laughed when he told her about the new Beijing-Taiyuan expressway. “How was I supposed to know it existed?” Hulan asked, groaning in mock horror at the needless misery she’d put herself through on those two trains, while at the same time thinking just how far removed Suchee and the others she’d met in Da Shui were from this life-changing news.

  They laughed even harder when David got to the part about Sun speaking perfect English. “I should have known better,” David said. “I do know better!”

  “But?”

  “Jet lag?” he tried. And again they laughed. Then he said, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For Sun. Landing him as a client is a coup. I know I owe that to you.”

  “But I didn’t do anything.”

  “He isn’t a friend or some part of the Red Prince network?”

  “I’ve never met him. I’ve seen him, of course. He was at Deng’s funeral. He’s a powerful man, David. Very important.”

  “So how did he…”

  “As Sun said himself, your reputation precedes you. Besides, Miss Quo has impeccable connections.”

  David thought for a moment, then asked, “All that pro-democracy, pro-capitalism talk, isn’t that dangerous?”

  “A year ago, even three months ago I would have said yes. But Deng is dead. Look at who runs the country now. President Jiang Zemin is trying to recast the U.S. as China’s friend, not its enemy. As mayor of Shanghai, Zhu Rongzi brought that city back to world prominence. Now that he’s premier, he hopes to do the same for the whole country. I don’t know much about Sun, except that he’s trying to do for his entire province what Zhu did for Shanghai. It doesn’t take a mathematician to add this up. Today Sun is one of one hundred and seventy-five people on the Central Committee. People say he’s vying to become one of the seventeen members of the Politburo. From there maybe he’ll go onto the five-man Standing Committee. Then again, maybe he can bypass those steps entirely and go straight to the top. In ten, twenty years, he could have it all.”

  “You like him.”

  Hulan shrugged. “Again, I don’t know him personally, but I like what he says. He’ll be a great client for you.”

  “I don’t know,” David said. When Hulan looked at him quizzically, he continued, “I don’t know much about the way things work here. I don’t understand the politics. I go out on the streets and see capitalism. I come home and you tell me about communist party rule. I have trouble meshing those two ideas.”

  “But you don’t have to. Listen to what he said: He wants your help in working with foreigners, because the rituals are different. He said it; you just didn’t hear it. In a Chinese deal the negotiations are intricate: will tea be offered, will you accept it, who will sit at what part of the table, who enters the room first. Effusive compliments are exchanged but never accepted. You can never say what you want or what you’ll concede. The ‘final’ contract is never the last version. On the eve of signing or just before a big banquet, there are always ‘a few last matters to attend to.’ Negotiations can go on for months, sometimes years. This is true in business and personal relationships, but it’s absolutely contrary to the American way. When you tell me Sun wants you to help him cut through all that, I like him even more.”

  “But he’s a politician, Hulan.”

  “He’s not just any politician. He’s a forward thinker. If he needs help, I think you should give it to him. That’s what you do best—help people who are on the side of right.”

  David didn’t like the idea of getting involved in politics, but if Hulan thought Sun was a good guy, then what could David do but help him, because as Hulan said, this was what he did best. He tried to explain the heart of it to Hulan.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter to me if a client is big or not. Like today with those people who were manufacturing clothes out of pigskin. I enjoyed talking to them. It pleased me that with a couple of phone calls I could fix their problem or at least make some headway. But a politician is different. I’m not convinced about how complex his deals are. I worry about integrity. I worry about what I won’t understand. I worry about what Sun’s real problems are and why he wasn’t forthright about them. Because he must have them or else he wouldn’t come to me. Still, as a lawyer I can look at his problems and steer him in the right direction, but…” He drew the word out as he thought back. “I remember once seeing a painting of a shipwreck. There was a lighthouse and the beam reflected over the water, but that still hadn’t prevented the ship from hitting the rocks. That’s how I see what I do, Hulan. There’s the sense t
hat you can orient to the light in the darkness and even know the waters, but if a surprise current comes up or a fog descends, then suddenly logic and experience might not be enough to stop disaster from occurring.”

  On Wednesday they were awakened as usual by the yang ge troupe. This time David said he wanted to go out and see it. They dressed and a few minutes later stepped out into the alleyway. Standing at David’s side, Hulan saw the dancers in a new way. How sweet they were in their colorful costumes. How dear to see these old people like Madame Zhang and Madame Ri with their smiling faces and delicate movements. Even the music that had sounded so loud and inharmonic to her ears now sounded festive and gay. And at her side was David. He was dressed casually in khakis, a button-down shirt open at the neck, and loafers. His body was loose and relaxed as he leaned lackadaisically with one shoulder against the wall of the Liu family compound. Hulan edged closer to him, and he draped his arm easily over her shoulder. She felt cautiously happy.

  Still, David was a foreigner and Hulan’s neighbors had been aware of his presence since the night he had arrived in the hutong. So, when Neighborhood Committee Director Zhang came knocking at the door an hour after the troupe dispersed, Hulan was ready for her. She escorted Madame Zhang out to the garden, where David was on the phone speaking to Miles Stout about Governor Sun and explaining all the conflict issues. David looked up, said into the phone, “Miles, I have to go, but if you get a waiver from Tartan, fax it to me as soon as possible. I’d like to represent Sun if we can.” Then he hung up, stood, and took Madame Zhang’s knobby hand in his for a light handshake.

  Madame Zhang took an appreciatively noisy sip of chrysanthemum tea, then said in Chinese, “The foreigner has come again. I see he has been here for five days already.”

  “Yes, auntie,” Hulan agreed.

  “I suspect that he has plans to stay longer.”

  “I hope so,” Hulan said.

  “You have not come to me for a marriage permit.”

  Hulan glanced over to David, who was trying to look interested, but was totally unaware of the meaning of the conversation. “There is no plan for marriage.”