The play premiered in early September and became a spectacular success. The theater didn’t sell tickets initially and just invited some professionals and dignitaries to attend the first two performances. Lisa and Li Lisan were there for the opening night and congratulated Yomei afterward for such a splendid inauguration of her directing career. She introduced Jin Shan to the couple and also translated for him when he chatted a bit with Lisa. Lisa told him that she had seen the movie The Midnight Song, which he had starred in. He laughed and said, “That was long ago, when I was still a young boy.” Li Lisan was also warm and friendly to Jin Shan, saying he was glad to see that Jin Shan’s handsome face was smooth and scarless, because the protagonist Shan had played in the movie, Sung Danping, had a hideous visage burned by acid. That made them all laugh.
The audience of Pavel Korchagin were struck by the beauty and originality of the production, and some had even applauded at the very beginning, as soon as the curtain went up, when no actor had uttered a word yet, just for the vibrant scenery, which was so exotic and striking, the likes of which they had never seen before. The only complaint came from some conservative viewers who felt the deep, wet kisses between Pavel and Tonya were over the top—they said the two could have just hugged and smooched a tad and didn’t have to French-kiss openly for a full minute. But young people loved to see this extravagant manifestation of passion and love. Some even applauded at the scene.
Another reason for the play becoming an immediate sensation was the actual love triangle in the production crew. The leading man and lady, both big stars, and the stage director had been entwined emotionally; nevertheless, they had managed to put the play together and even made it a hit. That was something unheard of, and therefore many people were more eager to see whether this triangular tension was manifested in the performance. In addition, there was also another famous actor, Wu Xue, who played the role of the revolutionary leader Zhukhrai. Such a cast alone was extraordinary.
After the first two nights, the theater began to sell tickets to the public. There was always a line at the box office. One night as Yomei and Jin Shan were strolling around, hand in hand and both wearing lightly tinted glasses, they saw some people wrapped in blankets or thin quilts standing in the line for the next day’s tickets. The couple stepped away, afraid of being recognized. Jin Shan was so touched that he said “This has made me feel as if I’m having a second acting life. Our play has revived me.”
Yomei laughed and asked, “So you feel like the Emperor of Spoken Drama again?” She was referring to the nickname the public had given him back in Shanghai.
“Well, not an aristocrat, but a youthful man again. Even when I’m with you in bed.”
She whacked him on the shoulder. “You’re a hopelessly sensual goat.”
He laughed. “You’re not exactly a chaste maiden, are you?”
“How could I remain chaste with a man like you?”
“To be honest, I admire your resolve and the kind of clarity you have about your own feelings.”
“I respect Ruifang for her devotion to the play. She’s a true professional. It must be hard for her to play the leading lady.”
“Of course it’s not easy, but she’ll leave when the performance period is over.”
Ruifang had just made arrangements with Shanghai Film Studio and would move to that city soon. She would also quit the stage and resume acting only on the screen. Her fame as a movie star would help her find work anywhere in China. Both Jin Shan and Yomei felt relieved to see her land an adequate position for herself.
Yomei invited Lily to the play’s fourth night, on September 12. By then, Lily had left the Lis’, since she had her own lodgings in the dormitory of her translation bureau. She was so struck by the beauty and grandeur of the play that afterward she hugged Yomei and murmured, “I’m so proud of you!” Her eyes welled with tears.
Yomei took her to a nearby dumpling house to have a snack. It was nearly ten o’clock at night, but there were still many customers in the restaurant. The two of them were seated face-to-face at a Formica table, at whose center a yellow laminated menu stood between the salt and pepper shakers. Still in the afterglow of the successful evening, they were each to have a bowl of wontons. Jin Shan was with the acting crew and couldn’t join them. These days, after performances, he’d meet the members of the audience who were reluctant to leave right away, giving a brief talk about the production of the play and fielding their questions. Lily had congratulated him backstage, after the performance. She’d also met him a few times before and could see that he looked younger now, having dropped more than twenty pounds and fitting into the role of Pavel Korchagin well.
Spooning up a wonton from her steaming bowl, Yomei said, “You know, I’m going to get married soon.”
“Who’s the lucky groom?” Lily’s eyes narrowed as she was smiling.
“You haven’t heard?”
“No, tell me who your fiancé is.”
“Jin Shan.”
“Oh, doesn’t he already have a wife?”
“They are divorced. I love him, so I want to get married.”
“Why? You were never the marrying type.”
“True, I used to be against matrimony, but lately I’ve realized that once you’re married, you can concentrate more on work, and people leave you alone.”
Lily put down her spoon and sighed. “Still, I’m surprised. Why did you pick Jin Shan? You used to have great suitors, some of whom have become pillars of our country.” The inner edges of Lily’s eyebrows rose, forming a caret below her full forehead.
“I can see you’re underwhelmed. Tell me, is Jin Shan that mediocre to you?”
“Not because of that. As an actor, he’s fine but somewhat washed-out. Compared to men like Lin Biao and Liu Yalou, Jin Shan is inconspicuous, to say the least. He’s quite old for you, besides. Honestly, Yomei, I wish you had talked with me about your choice. I can’t see what you love about him.”
“As a matter of fact, I asked myself the same question, but I now have my answer: I love his artist’s soul, and even his madness. When we’re together, we have so much to talk about, whereas with men like Lin Biao and Liu Yalou I don’t have a common language. How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
“No, I’m not that interested in men, although a bunch of them had often popped up in my work unit.”
“So the navy officer has stopped going after you?”
“He just disappeared.”
“Why?”
“I have no clue. Perhaps because I couldn’t help him with his career. It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in a sycophant like him anyway. I’m tired of men.”
“That’s only because you haven’t met the right one for you yet. In due time, you’ll meet someone who can make you feel like a different woman.”
“Fat chance.” Lily arched her eyebrows. “I want to go to Moscow to study again, to work toward a graduate degree, but it’s out of the question for now.”
“Why? Because of Jiang Ching?”
“She’s part of it. She wants me to work for her, but I’m more suitable for desk work, so I’ve been trying my best to stay in the translation bureau under Shi Zhe’s leadership. I like my colleagues there, who are all knowledgeable and can write well.”
“It’s a large work unit, isn’t it?”
“Yes, almost like a ministry. When will your wedding be held?”
“We don’t have a fixed date yet. Probably next month, after the performance period is over. I’ll have to check with Father Zhou and Mother Deng to see when they can attend our wedding. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Do you need anything for your new home? I mean, what kind of gift can I get you?”
“Nothing at all. Please come to my wedding. That’ll mean a lot to me.”
A week later, Yomei went to see the Zhous. Her sister, Yolan, no longer lived with them, having moved to the dormitory of the Beijing College of Foreign Languages, where she matriculated as a Russian major. Yolan enjoyed her school a lot, so she didn’t go to the Zhous as often as before, in spite of Yomei’s urging her to keep stronger ties with the Zhous. Such a close relationship would stand her in good stead when dealing with the officials at her school. But Yolan seemed to have settled down at the college and had a circle of friends, though she still went to see the Zhous from time to time. Yomei was happy for her. Nowadays when they met, she sometimes spoke Russian with her and could tell the progress Yolan had been making with her studies.
Before Yomei told the Zhous about her relationship with Jin Shan, they’d heard of it. Word had gone around that Zhou Enlai’s daughter had become a home-wrecker and had robbed Zhang Ruifang of her husband. After a dinner of seafood soup and braised meatballs—“lion heads,” a signature dish in Huaiyang cuisine, and Yomei’s favorite dish at the Zhous’—the premier, his forehead crimped, asked her bluntly, “I’m told that you’ve been carrying on with Jin Shan. How serious is this affair or whatever you call it?”
Lowering her eyes, Yomei said, “Jin Shan and I love each other. We plan to get married next month.”
Father Zhou and Mother Deng looked at each other, apparently astonished by her answer. Mother Deng said, “Why such a rush? Do you really know him?”
“Yes, I’m known him since the age of fourteen.”
Father Zhou smirked. “You were just a little girl at that time and couldn’t possibly get to know him well.”
“But in recent months, I have seen how dedicated he is to the theatrical arts. He’s a real artist, a great one.”
Father Zhou’s face clouded over, giving a reproachful smile. “Yomei, both Jin Shan and Zhang Ruifang used to work for me, so I know them pretty well. They are both truly excellent actors, but you’re going to marry a man with whom you will live for the rest of your life. There must be some sides to his personality that you might not be aware of. You mustn’t rush.”
“We only want you to be happy,” added Mother Deng.
Yomei breathed a sigh. “Do you approve of my marriage?” She sounded frustrated, a flicker of impatience and shame in her tone.
Father Zhou said, “I know what kind of a man Jin Shan is. As a comrade and even a friend, he is a fine fellow, but as a husband, you ought to be careful before plunging into a marriage with him. He just divorced his wife for your sake and might do the same to you if he falls for another woman.”
“Besides,” Mother Deng joined in, “you should consider your reputation. It’s hard for a woman to shake off a bad name. You should’ve been more prudent.”
“If this is a scandal,” Yomei went on, “it will blow over. For love, I’m willing to suffer and sacrifice.”
The Zhous said no more and seemed aware of the futility of their remonstrations. Yomei realized that at heart they disapproved of her marriage, so she didn’t persist. Instead, she asked them about their opinion of Pavel Korchagin. They both loved it and even said they could see a star rising in China’s spoken drama, meaning Yomei had had a great beginning. They truly felt proud of her. At the same time, they advised her to be careful and learn how to manage success. Father Zhou told her that a Soviet newspaper had just reported on the performance in Beijing, and he would have a copy of the article sent to Yomei.