Chapter Three

1.

His wife had gone to her parents’ house. Returning to her parents was a powerful weapon for a wife: no matter how heated a couple’s argument, if the husband didn’t want the family to break up, he would always humbly go to collect his wife at her parents’ place, accepting all the blame. It was never an easy task, since the wife’s family would always be on her side.

During their ten-year marriage, Mei had never taken that step. So when she took Yang Yang and walked out, Ruocheng was desperate to stop them leaving. Or perhaps he should have gone with them, apologising to her, begging her forgiveness.

But he couldn’t do that. If he went with them to her parents, she’d bring up Meixia, who was a disgrace to the family. Her parents would be furious with him and force him to send her back to Yunnan. They would reach an impasse.

With the apartment empty and silent, Ruocheng wanted to be with his daughter. When they had met, Ruocheng noticed Meixia didn’t call him ‘Dad’. He didn’t expect her to. He hadn’t been a dad to her; she’d been raised by his ex-wife Qiuyue. He’d carried her only when she was a baby, when they would go to the edge of the bamboo forest at dusk, waiting for Qiuyue to come home from the plantation.

Now he wondered what Meixia was doing in the little room at his parents’ place. Was she asleep, or having a chat with his brother’s daughter, or answering questions from his parents, his brother and sister-in-law? Meixia was stunning just like her mother. Her skin wasn’t as fair as the Shanghai girls, but its amber shine couldn’t be contrived with make-up. She had perfect features. She’d inherited her deep-set eyes from mother and her straight nose from him. And she was peaceful and quiet, shy but curious.

Ruocheng had stayed with Meixia at his parents’ till the early evening after taking her straight there from Old Lu. But he had no chance to talk with her. Surrounded by so many strangers, including her own father, Meixia was shy. Ruocheng had so much to ask and explain. Now he was alone and would be spending a whole night in the empty house. Ruocheng made up his mind. He’d bring his daughter home.

It was dark on the stairs. The back room behind the kitchen was silent. Maybe Meixia had fallen asleep after a busy day. He walked quietly upstairs without turning on the light.

The door of the back room was ajar. The TV was on with the volume turned down.

Ruocheng heard his niece’s voice coming from the room he used to share with his wife. ‘You’ve barged into our house from nowhere. It’s a huge blow to your dad and his family. Didn’t you think about that? Your dad and his wife had a fight about you and they might get divorced. They have an adorable boy, Yang Yang. He’ll lose his dad or his mum. He is much younger than you. How can you do that to the child? Well? Don’t play dumb!’

Ruocheng wanted to rush in and tell her to shut up. But he waited to see how Meixia would respond. He was hoping his daughter would stand up for herself and fight back.

To his disappointment, Meixia didn’t respond. Ruocheng sighed, thinking that Meixia must be like her mother, quietly accepting whatever was thrown at her. His niece carried on. ‘Look, our place is crowded already. Now we have to squeeze in another bed for you. But worst of all, when the neighbours see you, they’ll ask me who you are. What do you want me to say? Can I tell them you’re from the country and you’re my uncle’s daughter? It’s a disgrace for our family. So be sensible. Look around Shanghai for a few days, then go back where you came from.’

Ruocheng couldn’t stand it any longer. He pushed the door open and shouted ‘Yi, who told you to say all that stuff?’

Yi was shocked, not expecting her uncle back at this hour, but she wasn’t scared. She looked at her uncle coldly. ‘No one told me to say anything. I just said what I wanted to say.’

‘I won’t allow you to talk to Meixia like that.’

‘I have a mouth and the freedom to use it.’ Yi turned her back on Ruocheng.

Trembling with anger at this sixteen-year-old girl, he turned to look at Meixia and was gripped with pain. She hung her head like an offender under interrogation. Her body was huddled into a ball. When she heard her father’s voice she looked up, eyes filled with tears.

The door to the room was pushed open by Ruocheng’s sister-in-law, Yuefang.

‘What’s going on here? Did Yi say anything wrong? I heard her. She was just being honest.’ The hostility in her voice was palpable – Ruocheng realised that his niece’s rudeness had been encouraged by her mother. ‘If anything needs to be said, it’s up to me. She has no reason to poke her nose in,’ he said.

‘Listen, a young adult has moved into our home. Why shouldn’t we have our say?’ Yuefang had recently been promoted to supervisor at her department store. Her status had risen in the household too. Ruocheng’s mum had told him about the change in her behaviour.

Ruocheng was scornful of Yuefang’s superiority. ‘My parents and brother are in charge of this household. Stay out of our family business.’

‘I will not!’

His brother Guancheng came in frowning. Holding a cigarette, he looked hopelessly at Ruocheng. He offered a few dry coughs but said nothing. Ruocheng realised Guancheng must have argued with his wife about taking in Meixia.

Ruocheng sneered. ‘If I hadn’t earned my current place, this room would still be mine.’

‘But you moved out and you aren’t part of this household now.’ Yuefang wouldn’t budge. ‘You have your own home. Why didn’t you take your daughter there?’

That was rubbing salt in the wound. Ruocheng was enraged. He waved his hand and raised his voice, ‘You’ve gone too far! I won’t tolerate you talking to me like that!’

The back door opened and Ruocheng’s mother came up in her slippers. In a lowered voice, she urged her sons, ‘Can you stop arguing and shouting? You’ll wake the neighbours. We’re family and you two have been getting along well lately. Can you please have a civil discussion?’

‘Say what you mean,’ Yuefang replied angrily to her mother-inlaw, her voice rising even higher. ‘Are you saying it’s my fault the two brothers are arguing?’

Ruocheng’s mother replied calmly, ‘I don’t mean that at all. I’m just saying…’

‘Of course you meant that. You…’

Before Yuefang could finish, Guancheng threw his cigarette to the floor and slapped her. ‘How dare you shout at my mother like that? How dare you to talk to my brother so rudely?’

Yuefang screamed and started crying. She covered her face in her hands and ran back to her room. Yi started crying too and ran out of the room after her.

Guancheng rushed after them but his mother stopped by him. ‘Don’t ever hit your wife!’

He stamped angrily. ‘I have to. Who does she think she is? Even if she was promoted to deputy mayor, I could still hit her!’

His father was standing outside the door. ‘It doesn’t have to be so difficult. Why do you all have to make such a fuss? It’s disgraceful.’

‘Tell your son not to bring disgrace home,’ Yuefang shouted from her room. ‘He married a country woman and had a daughter with her, then got divorced, returned to Shanghai and started all over again!’

Ruocheng was furious. He was about to rush into the other room to argue with Yuefang when Meixia tugged at his shirt, her face covered in tears. He changed his mind. ‘All right! I’m taking Meixia with me right now!’

‘That’s fine,’ his father said in his lawyer’s voice. ‘A crowd is gathering at the back door, listening.’

‘I’m not afraid of that,’ Ruocheng said confidently. ‘I’m no sinner, I did nothing wrong, I don’t have any debts. If I hadn’t gone to the country, Guancheng would have had to go. We were told to “settle in the country for the rest of our lives”, so of course we looked at getting married and starting a family. But when we were allowed to return to the city, everyone came back. Why wouldn’t I do the same? I have nothing to be ashamed of. Come on, Meixia, let’s go home. If everyone abandons us, we’ll live together.’

His father followed him to the stairwell. ‘Did you speak to Mei?’

‘Yes…Dad, you don’t need to worry.’ He took Meixia’s hand and they walked down the stairs.

On the way down, someone turned on a light and when they reached the back door, Ruocheng saw all the neighbours staring at them.

He pushed his bicycle through the crowd to the avenue. He bent down and asked his daughter if she’d like him to double her on his bicycle. She nodded. He asked if she was afraid and she said no, because her mum used to take her around the village on her bike. He saw the sparkle in her eyes when she mentioned it.

He went fast enough to make the handlebars shake, but Meixia was very quiet. He noticed she didn’t put her arms around him or hold onto his clothes. She must be gripping the seat very tightly.

The storm at his parents’ was so sudden that Ruocheng hadn’t had time to think. Now, calmer, he wondered if he’d overreacted. He could have simply taken Meixia and left. He shouldn’t have shouted at his niece, or argued with his sister-in-law. By storming out, he had upset the whole household. Worse still, it would be hard to take Meixia back to his parents’ again. He had no choice but to have her stay with him and, if his wife wouldn’t change her mind, Meixia would have to go back to Xishuangbanna – that or he would face divorce.

The marriage…Ruocheng had to admit that all this unrest was caused by his daughter’s arrival. But it wasn’t her fault; she was innocent. She hadn’t done anything wrong. If Qiuyue hadn’t died so young, it would be different. She wouldn’t have let Meixia come all the way to find him. But Qiuyue couldn’t be blamed either.

Their marriage was the problem. Born in completely different places and with different backgrounds, they should never have married. But those years weren’t like any other time, it was a completely new thing, to bring all those young people from different places and different backgrounds together. The attraction was only natural, some of them were bound to fall in love.

When they got home, Ruocheng took Meixia to the little bathroom, gave her soap and towels and showed her how to use the tap and how to turn on the hot water for a shower.

When she came out of the bathroom, she’d washed her face and looked radiant. He took her to Yang Yang’s room and pointed at his bed, ‘You’ll sleep there.’

Meixia nodded. ‘Is this your home?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where is your family?’ She raised her hand, pointing at a photo of his family.

‘Oh, they’re staying somewhere else tonight,’ Ruocheng said, trying to sound casual, with a forced smile. ‘You must be exhausted. You should go to sleep now.’

He suddenly had an urge to escape. He put his hand on her shoulder and felt her shudder. He repeated as warmly as he could, ‘It’s very late now. Go to sleep.’

‘All right.’ Meixia looked up. Ruocheng was reminded of Qiuyue – he left the room quickly, pretending he had things to do.

He’d been desperate for this opportunity to be alone with her so they could talk. But as he brushed his teeth, Ruocheng realised that he lacked the courage to face his own daughter. How should he deal with that?

Before going to bed, he looked in at Meixia in Yang Yang’s room. The light was still on and she was standing at the window, gazing into the night. He walked quietly to his daughter’s side. Directly opposite the window, the street was flanked with palm trees, the leaves were thick and green in the autumn evening. Vehicles passed in both directions. He was used to the view and didn’t find it interesting.

‘Meixia…’ She looked up and he was surprised to see she had been crying. ‘What’s wrong?’

Tears rolled down her face like pearls off a broken string. Her lips trembled as she tried to control herself, but the harder she tried, the more pitiful she looked.

‘Am I…Am I really such a nuisance?’

‘No, of course not,’ Ruocheng comforted her. He realised that she’d heard and understood everything. She had difficulty understanding Shanghai dialect, but knew she was the cause of the fight in the family. She’d made his wife and son leave home. She must have guessed that when she saw the photo of his family on the wall.

Ruocheng had no idea how to soothe his daughter. Fumbling for words, he said, ‘Meixia, you’re a lovely girl. I mean it. I’m really pleased that you came to Shanghai. Please don’t…Don’t think too much about the arguments. They have nothing to do with you. Don’t worry about them…’

Someone help me, he thought. For the first time, the editor in him was struggling to find the right words. They were weak and insubstantial.

‘Did Mr Xie write to you?’ Meixia asked gently.

‘Yes, he did. You knew about that? What did he say to you?’

‘He said you had a good life in Shanghai and he felt sorry for Mum. He said that I…’

Ruocheng heard the oblique criticism from his old classmate. The fact that he wrote at all indicated that he disapproved of Ruocheng’s actions.

‘How did Mum die?’ he asked.

‘She had headaches.’

‘Did she see the doctor?’

Meixia shook her head. ‘Mum couldn’t sleep at night. She tossed around and sighed. Then her head started hurting. It hurt so much that she lost a lot of weight. Mum said it felt like there was a snake moving in her head.’

Ruocheng lowered his eyes as he heard about Qiuyue’s suffering.

‘When it started, I couldn’t understand why she was like that but as I grew older, I realised it was all because she missed you.’

Ruocheng shuddered. Feeling awkward and embarrassed, he forced a smile and asked in a low voice, ‘Didn’t she…want to remarry?’

‘People in the village and at the farm told her she should. I knew a man from Hunan whose wife had died who desperately wanted to be with her, but she refused him. She cried and said she was worried that I’d be treated badly if she re-married. But I knew it was because she really missed you.’

Meixia dried her tears, bent down and opened the fake leather bag she carried with her. She took out a parcel wrapped in thick paper, a small shiny hand-made bamboo box for betel nuts, a plastic bag with special dried mushrooms in it and a little book. She piled them all on a stool.

‘Mum insisted I bring all these to you. She said big things were too heavy for me to carry. The mushrooms were your favourite. And the bamboo box is because you always liked the bamboo things in the village. The parcel has dang gui in it. Mum said people in Shanghai liked it for medicine.’

Dang gui! Ruocheng’s face froze. He tore a small opening in the parcel, releasing a strong fragrance. Dang gui was very precious. It immediately reminded him of the plant on their balcony. Qiuyue had brought it home before he’d headed back to Shanghai. When he walked up the stairs, he saw her watering the plant and asked curiously, ‘Isn’t that wild celery?’

‘No, it’s dang gui.’

‘Dang gui?’

‘It’s medicinal. Those young people took it home when they went back to Shanghai.’

Ruocheng had heard about the plant but he had no idea why Qiuyue wanted to grow it in a pot. Wasn’t it supposed to be collected in the wild? ‘You can buy it dried at the store. Why are you growing it?’

‘Because I like its name,’ Qiuyue replied in a soft voice. ‘Dang gui means “should come back”. It’s given as a gift to family members who’ve left home. It will remind me of you. In autumn when it’s ready to harvest, it will give me some relief, and maybe you’ll come back after that.’ She choked on her own sobbing.

Meixia didn’t know any of this. But she knew her mother couldn’t stop thinking about her father, and before she died she had asked her to take some dang gui to him.

Ruocheng’s eyes shifted to the bag – he recognised it as soon as he saw it. It was the bag he’d carried when he left Shanghai for Yunnan. Almost every zhiqing from Shanghai carried something similar. Nearly twenty years later, cracks like a turtle shell had appeared on its surface, and it looked rather ugly now. Ten years ago when he left for Shanghai, he’d abandoned the bag along with everything else that he’d brought with him to Yunnan. He wouldn’t need any of it in Shanghai. But he didn’t know Qiuyue had mended the bag and started using it. Qiuyue had maintained her deep affection for him. But what had he done? He’d never even considered returning to visit them.

‘There’s something in the little book. Mum asked me to keep it there.’ Meixia picked up the slim volume, its cover faded to a muddy yellow. How to Appreciate Classical Poetry. Ruocheng had brought the book with him to kill time when he went to Yunnan. He didn’t know Qiuyue had kept it.

Meixia opened the book and passed it to him. When he saw two dried flowers, he was stunned. They were forget-me-nots.

‘When her head didn’t hurt, Mum liked to sing.’ As far as Ruocheng could remember, Qiuyue preferred peace and quiet. Even before she got married, she didn’t like going out with other girls who had singing competitions. ‘She used to sing a particular song when I was little. As I grew up, I could sing the song myself. Then I realised what it was.’

‘What was it?’

‘“Waiting For My Man To Return”.’

Ruocheng felt his heart tremble. Meixia started singing, softly and with feeling.

Over the mountain is a cloud shaped like a woman.

Waiting for my man, tears wet my dress.

Over the mountain is a cloud shaped like a woman.

Waiting for my man, tears keep rolling down.

The cloud will travel miles to deliver the message.

Autumn has gone and winter is coming.

My calls are echoed in the sound of huge waves.

I cry bitterly because my man has not returned.

Meixia’s own tears fell at the end of the song – the last line was half sung, half sobbed. His daughter’s singing made Ruocheng feel desolate. Life in the remote village with Qiuyue and Meixia wasn’t as comfortable as his life in Shanghai, but they’d never stopped thinking about him and missing him, hoping against hope he’d also think about them from time to time.

But like a grain of sand, he’d been drawn into the whirlpool of noisy city life, in the fight for housing, to make a living and get promoted. He’d found new love and in the midst of it all, he’d forgotten and abandoned something much more valuable…his conscience. With tears in his eyes, he looked at his daughter. ‘Meixia, I…I’m sorry. I’ve let your mother down and I’ve let you down.’

‘Dad!’ She had rushed to him with her arms open.

Tossing and turning in bed, Ruocheng finally dozed off long after midnight. The telephone woke him at dawn. It was his wife. ‘Listen, I’m coming home to discuss that girl. Since she’s here now, we can’t just leave her on her own. Wait for me.’

‘Thank you. Thank you!’ From the sound of her voice, he could tell she’d had a sleepless night. Ruocheng thought it might take her a week to think it through but she was coming around.

He was wide awake now. He got up, tidied the room, prepared breakfast and sat waiting for his wife. Then he remembered that Mei didn’t know he’d brought Meixia here. How would she react? And what would his daughter think when she saw his wife?

2.

As general manager of the trading company, Wu Guanchao had dealt with all sorts of situations and people. He was well-connected and knew how to work the system. But the conversation he was about to have was the hardest he could imagine. He felt like pulling out, but Yonghui was his son.

The moment he walked into Yonghui’s room, he saw how anxious the boy had grown during his long wait. His face was changed, his eyes were tearful and darted around the room.

‘Dad, let’s go home.’

Wu made tea for himself and lit a cigarette. ‘Come, sit down.’

Yonghui didn’t sit. He was puzzled by his dad’s reluctance. ‘Mum’s at home. She’ll worry.’

Yonghui was sure his mum couldn’t wait to see him, just like he was anxious to see her.

‘Sit down, Yonghui. We’re not going anywhere. You’ll sleep here tonight.’

‘Here?’ Frowning, he asked, ‘So Mum…She doesn’t want to see me, does she?’

‘No.’ Wu patted Yonghui’s shoulder. ‘Calm down and listen to me.’ Yonghui slumped down, looking lost.

Wu felt for his son. It would be cruel to tell him the truth, but he couldn’t hide it forever. He puffed at his cigarette and said, ‘Seeing you’ve grown up and should know about life, I’ve decided to tell you the truth.’

Yonghui looked up, eyes wide open. There was fear on his face.

‘Yonghui, you might have heard that Mum and I divorced so we could return to Shanghai. When we left, we gave you to your adoptive parents who were very nice people…’

‘I know that.’

‘That’s good. After we returned to Shanghai, Mum and I went our separate ways. In other words, she married someone else, and so did I. We each have our own families.’

Yonghui burst out crying, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Wu was taken aback. He couldn’t continue. His fingers trembled, losing all their usual elegance. He had to accept that his son was a person with his own feelings and thoughts. And he was now forced to re-examine his past, including the decision he’d made about his marriage. For the first time, he felt indebted to his child.

‘So you mean I can’t go to your home?’ Yonghui said between sobs.

‘It’s not that you can’t, Yonghui…but you need to give me some time. You only arrived today, all of a sudden. I haven’t had time to discuss this with my family.’

‘But wouldn’t Mum want to see me?’

‘She’ll come to see you tomorrow morning.’

‘Can’t I go to her home, either?’

‘You can ask her tomorrow.’

‘Dad, I don’t understand. Why did you and Mum divorce and give me away? You didn’t like me, did you? You never liked me, right?’

Wu’s face twitched. He stubbed his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray. ‘No, that’s not true, never think that. We both loved you and we thought about you all the time. We missed you.’

‘Why then?’

‘Why? I don’t even know myself. Yonghui, you’re still young and there’s a lot you don’t understand. When you get older, you’ll understand why.’

Wu couldn’t say now whether it had been he or his wife who suggested a divorce. But whoever first mentioned the idea, the other had already thought of it. So they agreed quickly. Seeing the other zhiqing flooding back to Shanghai, they worried they might miss out. The only obstacles were their marriage and their child.

Their tidy bamboo house lost its usual joy. They were silent at meal times, in bed, at the market or when they were with the baby. They both felt weighed down by the shackles of their marriage.

Early in the morning at the end of the dry season as the birds called Wu hid himself behind the bamboo bush and started pounding rice. In Xishuangbanna, pounding rice, as with housework and field-work was a wife’s job. Husbands’ work was limited to installing the central beam of a bamboo house, ploughing and herding cattle.

But after Wu married Yang, he continued with the habits he’d developed as a zhiqing. He washed clothes at the river, carried water from the well and pounded rice. He also went to the market with Yang, carrying things for her and holding her umbrella under the hot sun. So the village women often teased and laughed at him.

‘There’s a man who married a lazy woman and has to do everything himself.’

‘Those city women are so lucky. Their men do everything.’

‘You’re just jealous. You should go and get a city man yourself.’

‘I wonder if they’d want you…’

Yang was even more forcefully teased and sneered at by the local women. She couldn’t compete with them doing the tough work in the fields and at home – she wasn’t strong enough. The local men also laughed at Wu, so he tried to avoid being seen when he helped his wife with housework. But he was well-known in the village and beyond as a henpecked husband. At least they had a baby boy, which helped restore some of their status.

The banana leaves rustled when Yang opened the bamboo gate and walked over to where he was pounding rice. She lifted the basket from her back and didn’t bother to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She lowered her voice but couldn’t contain her excitement. ‘The zhiqing in the plantation have all gone.’

‘Really?’ he turned around.

‘All those zhiqing, from Beijing, Kunming and Shanghai, they burnt their bed rolls, suitcases, beds and everything as a symbol of leaving this life behind.’ Yang wiped her neck and forehead. ‘The leaders were worried about violent incidents, so they just hung the official seal on the door of their office and disappeared. Zhiqing from all over followed their example and joined the exodus. Anyone without an assigned job has left.’ Yang looked straight at Wu, waiting for his response.

He blinked a few times. ‘What else have you heard?’

‘A married couple, just like us, got a divorce and left. Apparently people aren’t taking divorce very seriously, so it’s easy to get one. The only difference is that they didn’t have a child.’

Wu could hear Yang’s tentatively questioning tone. Having lived in the village all these years, he knew it was quick and easy for local people to get a divorce, so when zhiqing divorced, it wouldn’t create much of a stir.

He looked at his wife and sighed. ‘But we’ve had a child.’

‘If that’s the only difficulty. I know a couple in the village who really want to adopt a child because they’re still childless after years of marriage. Particularly a boy.’

There was a spark in Wu’s eyes. ‘You mean we could give Yonghui away?’

Yang avoided his gaze. ‘Some people have done it. Otherwise, we’ll have to live here for the rest of our lives.’

Wu fell silent. He frowned. ‘Well, there doesn’t seem to be any other option.’

Yonghui started crying inside the bamboo house. He’d woken up and couldn’t see his parents around. They looked at each other, startled, as if they’d been caught committing a crime.

His father had left. Yonghui lay on the bed, feeling chilled through. His hopes for a new life with his parents were crushed. He had imagined they would be excited to see him in Shanghai and would show him the sights. What the street vendors in his village had said about Shanghai people seemed to be true: they were calculating, cunning, cold, arrogant, superficial, stingy and even ruthless.

He missed home and his adoptive parents who had raised him. Mum always made extra food for him to take to school. He’d never worn mended clothes. They bought him a backpack instead of a satchel when they heard that it would help his shoulders develop evenly. His dad went all the way to town and spent over twenty yuan to buy one.

But Yonghui had decided to come thousands of miles to see his birth parents. On Sunday, when he wasn’t at home, they’d have gone to the school but wouldn’t have found him. Yonghui imagined how anxious they’d be.

One unbearably hot day before he had left, Yonghui had gone to the little village shop to buy a pen and saw a crowd gathered at the door. He pushed his way through and saw a middle-aged woman in bright fashionable clothes. Tears on her face, she looked vacant. She held a pair of sunglasses and her lips trembled as she repeated the same sentence again and again, ‘How could I know they’d move house? How could I know they’d move house?’

Yonghui wasn’t sure what it was all about, but knew she was from a long way away. He overheard the people around him. ‘Poor thing. I hear she came to look for her son. When she went back to Beijing in such a rush, she left him with someone. Now she’s looking for him, but can’t find him.’

‘She’s been here for a couple of months and has covered all three villages.’

‘She developed an illness in Beijing and can never have another child.’

‘No wonder she seems deranged.’

‘She should have known that the local people move a lot.’

Yonghui wondered about his own parents.

Haunted by the image of the woman looking for her lost son, Yonghui’s urge to see them became stronger every day. But now he was in Shanghai, all he could see was his parents’ coldness and detachment.

‘An illegitimate child? That’s not my concern!’

Wu Guanchao had barely finished speaking when Mo Ping exploded with abuse. He was furious with her, but knew he couldn’t lash out. Everything he had was provided by this woman. If he had still been married to Yang, he couldn’t be where he was now. Mo Ping was the only daughter of a high-ranking official. Her three older brothers had moved out and started their own families. Her parents indulged and spoilt her. She lived with them in their two-storey mansion – a huge house with a front yard, a back yard, a kitchen and two bathrooms. There was even a balcony.

When Wu decided to put up with Mo Ping’s arrogance and volatile temper, this mansion had influenced his decision. After graduating from university, he had been assigned to the administrative office of a technical school that sent him to settle affairs at a factory in Hangzhou with an accountant. Mo Ping was the accountant. She was to review the accounts and Wu was to deal with the factory management. They finished the job easily and brought back over four thousand yuan. The trip lasted a week and they spent most of the time together, except at night.

The company was happy with the outcome and gave them a small bonus. Wu bought two tickets to a dance with his and invited Mo Ping, who happily accepted.

A disco ball threw multi-coloured stars around the dance hall as the music played. The singing was exhilarating. The men and women were all very glamorous. Once the dance started, he realised how clumsy he was compared with her confidence. She didn’t seem to notice his embarrassment. In the dim light, the two got closer and closer.

‘I hear you were married before,’ Mo Ping suddenly asked, looking into his eyes. ‘And you’re divorced.’

‘Yes.’

‘Make a clean break. Say goodbye to the past.’ She leaned closer to him.

He didn’t push her away. He offered to walk her home and she didn’t object. When they reached her door, he was amazed to see that she lived in a mansion with a garden.

After the dance, they saw each other more often. He started noticing his colleagues’ comments about her. With a high-ranking official as her father, she had lived a privileged life. That explained why she was arrogant and aloof. She’d had several boyfriends but dumped them all. Men who’d heard about her personality kept away. People said it served her right if her choices were limited now. Wu had come at just the right time.

After returning from Yunnan, Wu had suffered the hardship of having nowhere to live. Lack of housing also stopped him and Yang from reneging on their divorce. When they both finally got into university, they each lived in their assigned dormitories. Their studies and campus life made them forget their lack of an apartment. Only when relatives or friends had a temporary vacancy at their homes were they able to have a quick get-together. After graduation, they were assigned to jobs but as relative newcomers to Shanghai, that didn’t help them get an apartment.

Wu was divorced and so legally free. He didn’t even think about his son. On a midsummer night, after he and Mo Ping had been to a movie, he walked her home as usual. When they got to her door, Mo Ping invited him in for a drink.

He hesitated, but she had already opened the door and walked in. He summoned his courage and went in too. Wasn’t this the house he’d set himself to conquer?

She opened a can of cola from the fridge. He didn’t recognise the music she put on but he liked it.

‘Come on,’ Mo Ping put down her can. ‘Let’s dance.’

Wu didn’t want to disappoint her. He held her waist and she leaned into him. What if her parents saw them? But the dance soon carried him away. Mo Ping was restless. She buried her face in his shoulder and then looked up at him, lips half open. He bent and kissed her on the lips. She kissed back, greedily. Yang had never kissed him like that.

Suddenly Mo Ping raised her head, focused her dazzling eyes on Wu and asked ‘Do you still hear from your ex-wife?’

‘No, of course not.’ In fact, he and Yang spoke regularly and when her place or his was available, they slept together. But there was no passion or affection, and when he’d started to see Mo Ping he’d also begun to keep his distance from Yang. As he hadn’t called her for a few weeks, he wasn’t really lying.

‘Don’t you dare,’ said Mo Ping, biting him hard on the shoulder. Giggling, she then buried her face in his chest. Wu kissed her hair.

‘Stay the night. My parents have gone on holiday. I’m scared to be on my own.’ She held him even tighter.

Excited, he lifted her and they started spinning around. Mo Ping screamed and laughed.

After they married, Wu not only moved into Mo Ping’s house but also into his father-in-law’s sphere of influence. He was quickly promoted at his school and not long after he left to open a trade and development company backed by funds his father-in-law raised. Wu turned out to be a savvy entrepreneur, decisive and proficient in keeping the higher-ups happy. Profits increased year by year. Wu made sure the company’s staff received bonuses and gifts. People wanted to work there, and Wu always found jobs for the bosses’ relatives.

Even Mo Ping softened towards her husband. She respected what he’d achieved, something which her three brothers, even with their father’s support, had failed to do. Still, Wu knew his place at home. He pampered his wife and put up with her occasional tantrums.

Mo Ping was furious when she heard about Yonghui’s arrival. Wu didn’t argue. ‘I knew it would upset you. I’ve let you down. But if I’d kept it a secret and discussed it with Yang behind your back, it would have upset you even more.’

‘You just want to see that crazy woman!’

Wu ignored her jealousy. ‘I’m not saying that Yonghui should come here. But he’s in Shanghai now and he’s my son. I can’t change that. If I’m too tough, I’m afraid I’ll hurt him. He’s still a child. If he went to my office and told everyone who he is, there’d be a scandal.’

Mo Ping’s eyes widened. She seemed to understand. ‘Are you saying he’ll go to the office?’

‘He found his way to the building today.’

‘What a brat!’

‘Keep your voice down. Yanyan is asleep.’ Wu didn’t want their daughter to hear their conversation, let alone Mo Ping’s parents.

She lowered her volume, ‘What are you going to do, then?’

‘I’ll try to smooth it out. You know, business is getting harder. It might be good to stop being general manager of the company. In the last few years we’ve made enough money for our family. The company is being audited and will be restructured. Maybe I could take the opportunity to retire. I hear I’m being considered as a candidate for the Bureau’s leadership team. Apparently there’s a vacancy and the primary requirement is youth. The manager of the Bureau’s housing office called me last week, out of the blue, saying there was an apartment in the city centre which he was thinking of assigning to me. He asked me to take a look.’

‘Really?’ Mo Ping raised her eyebrows.

‘Well, I’m sure he’s heard the rumour that I’ll be promoted to the leadership team and could be his boss.’

‘It’s only natural. Now my dad’s retired, people have distanced themselves from him. When are we going to have a look at that apartment?’

Wu was relieved that Mo Ping had calmed down. He talked about his work not just to distract her, but more importantly to show that he no longer relied on her family’s influence. He’d carved out his own territory and was now close to getting an apartment of his own. Though Mo Ping’s parents let them share their house, Wu was always aware of who was master there. If they could move into an assigned apartment he would be the indisputable head of the household.

‘When we both have a moment, we can go and look at it together,’ he told her. But his mind was still on the unresolved problem of his son.

‘That’s none of my business.’ Mo Ping still sounded angry, unwilling to negotiate. But she wasn’t as aggressive as before. ‘Whatever you decide to do, just keep him out of my sight. You can show him around, treat him to meals, buy things for him, or even bring him here for a look. But don’t go too far with him and don’t ever get in touch with Yang.’

Wu was touched by Mo Ping’s change of heart. ‘Thank you. You’re even more generous than I thought.’

3.

Keen to see her son, Leying rushed to her parents’ house. She was headed straight to the little room at the back, but her mum came out of the kitchen, stumbled into her and marked her expensive blouse with her wet hands.

‘I need to tell you something,’ her mother said.

Leying glared at the handprints on her blouse.

‘Your son was found smoking inside the house!’ she announced.

Leying frowned. Smoking at sixteen?

Tianhua came out of his room, ‘Mum, are you taking me out? I’ve been in here all day. I’m so bored.’

Leying sniffed and could smell the smoke. But right now she didn’t have time to deal with it. ‘Take off your overcoat, it isn’t cold. Listen, didn’t you want to come and see my place? You can have a bath there. Look at you. You look like a country bumpkin. You will be taken for a ride. I’ll take you for a haircut and buy you some clothes.’

‘Great!’ Tianhua clapped with excitement.

Leying’s husband wouldn’t be home till after midnight. Her stepdaughter was in school and her mother-in-law was out playing mah-jong. They would all be back at dinner time. Their maid would only come in the late afternoon. Leying would have the house to herself for two or three hours. Why not bring her son to have a quick look? There might not be another opportunity.

Before they left her parents’ place, Leying asked her son to walk behind her and not speak to her on the street in case they attracted the neighbours’ attention.

Once they reached her house, Leying took Tianhua through one door after another. She turned on lamps and chandeliers as they walked through the living room, bedrooms, study, kitchen, dining room, bathrooms and a small sitting room. The cream furniture on the first floor, the pure wool rug and the chandeliers all looked expensive. Tianhua seemed stunned by what he saw.

The furniture on the second floor was imported from Czechoslovakia. On the third floor there were fourteen pieces made from Brazilian redwood. She told Tianhua that the furniture alone cost over ten thousand yuan. ‘Mum, you’re living in an emperor’s palace.’

Leying laughed. Her house couldn’t be compared to a palace, but it was much better than the bamboo house her first husband had built for her.

‘I’ll get you something to eat, then you can have a bath.’

They went down to the living room on the first floor. Tianhua sat on the sofa, bouncing up and down to see how high he could go. Leying got fresh and preserved fruit, sweets, chocolates, orange juice and cupcakes for him. She had her back to the front door when she heard Chaojun’s booming voice.

‘Oh, who’s our distinguished guest? Can you introduce me?’

Chaojun always said he had no fame or status in society, but he did have money. He had built an extravagant house and still had money left over. He thought of buying a car, but couldn’t find anywhere nearby to park it. He ended up changing his Suzuki 50 to a Honda 200.

He had run fruit and seafood businesses and made money from both but eventually shifted to selling clothes, which proved the most profitable since there was no off-season for clothes. He owned a shop and four or five stalls and he hired people to mind them while he received five or six thousand yuan each month from the profits.

Chaojun’s work day involved going to check his stalls, or rather the girls hired to work there. The girls were all from neighbouring rural areas, young and new to the city. Their only dream was to become a nanny. He deliberately offered them wages slightly higher than a nanny’s pay. To get a job at his stalls, they just needed to provide the address and identity documents issued by their home village. Though he applied an aesthetic standard as well. He employed them for anything from a few months to two or three years, but never longer than that because he believed innocent country girls became cunning and calculating after a year or so. While they were his staff, he was responsible for their accommodation and gave them a pay rise each month – if they performed well. Some girls would receive ten or twenty yuan, others might get fifty. And he dressed them expensively in brand-name clothes and shoes. There were always newcomers keen to work his stalls.

Chaojun had slept with every single girl working for him. They all kept silent and no one ever reported him to the police, even after they left – the shame was too great. Chaojun thought, they’re willing participants. The law can’t get me. With each new girl, he started by giving her some fashion magazines to pore through when there was a quiet moment on the stall. A couple of months later when he had come to know her, he’d give her new clothes and take her to fancy places like the dance hall at the Huating Hotel. They’d go to trendy bars and he would spoil her. Finally, Chaojun would invite her to watch videos, starting with martial arts, moving to sentimental dramas and eventually porn. When it was time for him to make a move he was never rejected.

Occasionally a girl wasn’t completely won over and Chaojun would quickly nip the problem in the bud by spending some money to keep her quiet.

But Chaojun’s visits to the stalls weren’t only for flirting with the girls. He needed to do market research. When clothes sold well, he’d order the fabric, the manufacturing and the delivery all at once. He didn’t own a factory, but he knew many housewives making clothes at home for street production teams. He’d offer them a higher piecework price and they always managed to deliver in three days.

By midday, he had done his work for the day and could call his friends to play cards, mah-jong or pool. Chaojun never gambled more than 500 yuan and he’d stop if he lost it. After having dinner with his friends, he would spend the night with his girls.

Today he’d given up some gambling time to come home early. Leying thought she had been careful with her secret, not realising how many people in the neighbourhood couldn’t wait to tip off her husband. Seeing Leying so frightened at hearing his voice, he couldn’t help laughing. ‘Relax. I came back to pick up my mobile phone. Introduce me, who is this?’

Leying’s face reddened. She walked back and forth and stammered ‘This is…Tianhua. He’s…’

‘Your relative?’

‘He’s my son. I had him in Yunnan.’

‘Oh – but you’ve never told me about him.’

‘I know. I…I was too embarrassed. Tianhua, meet…your stepfather. Please call him Dad.’ Leying slipped into Yunnan dialect that sounded funny to Chaojun.

Tianhua stood up and said, ‘Dad,’ full of respect.

‘All right. Now we’ve met.’ Chaojun liked this tall, intelligent-looking boy. ‘Sit down. This is our first meeting, but it’s a bit unexpected so I don’t have any gifts for you. Here’s two hundred yuan instead.’

He took out two notes and handed them to Tianhua.

Leying stammered, ‘S-say thank you to your stepfather.’

‘Thank you, Dad.’

Chaojun waved his hand. ‘You’re welcome. We’re not strangers now. Leying, can you ask Tianhua to stay here? I need a word with you in the next room.’

Leying felt a little more settled when she saw Chaojun give money to her son. It seemed her husband wouldn’t use him against her. But she was still anxious about why he wanted to talk to her privately. Was he planning to blackmail her?

In the living room, Chaojun sat on the sofa with his legs crossed. Leying picked a spot diagonally opposite so she could carefully observe any subtle changes in his expression. Being married to Chaojun all these years, she knew him well. A calm appearance often concealed a calculating mind.

‘Chaojun, I know what I did was wrong. I wasn’t honest with you, but the reason I covered it up was because I was worried you wouldn’t want me.’

‘No need to explain,’ Chaojun said, then laughed. ‘We’re husband and wife, sharing the same bed. If the boy hadn’t come, we could say “out of sight, out of mind”. But since he has come… He’s your son after all and you can’t just lock him up at your parents’. If the neighbours found out, they’d say I was a terrible stepfather. Let him stay at our house. You can stop worrying.’

Tears welled up in Leying’s eyes as she gazed at her husband. He was compassionate after all, despite his cunning in business.

‘As his mother, I should thank you on his behalf…’ she sobbed.

‘We’re family. Now I’ve been given a son out of the blue, of course I want to treat him well.’

She thought if her husband could accept her son, he couldn’t be thinking of abandoning her. She wiped away her tears. ‘Tianhua will never be able to thank you enough.’

‘I’m doing it for you.’ Chaojun lowered his voice. He lit a cigarette and puffed twice. ‘Last night you behaved very reasonably and didn’t make a scene. I appreciate that.’

Leying went pale. She didn’t expect Chaojun to come to the point so quickly. Last night, confronted with his philandering in their house, she’d had no choice but to accept the situation. It was as if she had been punched in the face and had to swallow her broken teeth.

‘My mother told me what happened and I knew how I should repay your generosity. I came back home now so we could talk openly.’

Her husband had picked his moment to place his cards on the table. A nervous look flickered across her face and she asked in a pitiable voice, ‘You mean…’

‘I’m not going to stop sleeping with other women. The young woman you saw last night and the other girls working on my stalls are my girls. Without me supporting them, they’d get nowhere in Shanghai. I don’t need to tell you that those of us who’ve made a fortune have all had a secret or two.’ Chaojun squinted and looked askance at his wife.

Leying tried to cover her shock and contempt. Chaojun didn’t seem to notice her expression. He ashed his cigarette and continued. ‘But I want you to know it’s all just a game for me. Afterwards, the game is over. I won’t let any of the girls cling – they’re all the same to me. I won’t divorce you or dump you so I can marry another woman. We’ve shared a lot and we understand each other. As my mother says, you’re diligent, reliable, faithful and you care for your elders. You’re a good woman.’

‘It sounds like you’re presenting me with a merit certificate.’ Leying forced a bitter smile. She understood now. Her husband was using her son to blackmail her into accepting his infidelity. He made it clear that their marriage would survive but she had to allow him to do whatever he pleased for as long as she wanted to take care of her son. This was slightly better than she’d expected, but what kind of life would she be living? How could she keep her dignity? Her courage failed her and all she could think of saying was, ‘Have you heard the Ministry of Health statistics that the transient population has the highest STD rate in Shanghai? You sleep around, picking up whoever comes your way, but what if you contract…’

Chaojun started laughing. ‘How can you even think of that, Leying? That’s why I never go to bars, hotels or the kind of places where the women have syphilis. The girls I choose to sleep with are fresh from the country. They may not be fashionable or glamorous, but most of them are virgins and those who aren’t are clean. So you don’t need to worry.’

Leying was tongue-tied and could hardly recognise this shameless man as her husband.

When she came into the living room she was even more dismayed. Her stepdaughter Yumin was back from school and was sitting on the sofa opposite Tianhua, chatting away.

4.

Shanshan and her colleagues were told to stay home because there was no electricity in the factory. She wouldn’t start until two in the afternoon which meant finishing at ten. When that happened, she liked to sleep in, go to the market for some groceries and prepare dinner for Mancheng, but today she didn’t have the energy to do anything. She had the late shift the night before and had slept badly. She was irritable and nervous that her husband would soon be back, along with his son. She knew if she had resisted, he wouldn’t have dared to bring his son home, but she couldn’t bare to watch Mancheng suffer.

When he confessed to her what had happened, she quickly realised that she had to make a decision. Would she continue living with him? If not, would she file for divorce? Either she and her daughter would leave the house, or she’d kick Mancheng out. But if she didn’t want to leave him, she’d have to face the shame he had brought on their household.

She still loved him. As a pretty young girl on the state farm on the outskirts of Shanghai, she was never short of interested young men. After she returned to Shanghai, she was introduced to more than a dozen prospective suitors including a wealthy man with overseas connections, a journalist, a foreign language teacher, a handsome chauffeur and an assistant engineer. But she had rejected them one by one before finally settling on Mancheng. Although he’d been married before, he respected and cared for her. They never considered each other’s social status, family background or financial situation, theirs had been a love match. Whenever Shanshan was on a late shift or did overtime, he waited for her at the factory gate, took her for supper and then walked her home, even in the worst weather. She was touched by his attention, and after rejecting so many suitors, she’d settled on him as the love of her life.

She didn’t have the energy to go through a divorce, take their daughter and look for another man. Shanshan decided she’d hang onto Mancheng, no matter what. And so far, things weren’t that bad. But she knew her suffering hadn’t even begun. To rationalise the whole incident was one thing, to meet the child and bring him into their household was another altogether.

She heard Mancheng’s footsteps approaching and him telling the child to be careful in the dark. He spoke in Yunnan dialect. She tried to suppress her irritation and disgust. She felt so worked up she could barely stand, so she sat on the edge of the bed.

Father and son walked into the room.

‘Shanshan, this is Sifan.’ He spoke with a humble smile. She’d prefer him not to look so pitiable. Mancheng turned to his son, ‘Sifan, this is your mum.’

The boy looked at her blankly.

She forced a smile and said, ‘How are you? Did you have breakfast?’

‘Yes, Mum.’ Shanshan felt all her limbs tense. She could easily see traces of Mancheng in the boy’s expressions and manner.

‘How old are you?’

‘Fourteen.’

‘Then you’ll be an older brother for Siyun.’ Shanshan was trying to find something to say so she wouldn’t appear too cold. She wasn’t so irrational as to blame the child in any way. ‘Are you in middle school?’

‘Year Eight.’

‘Is it the holidays now?’

‘No.’

‘Why come to Shanghai, then? What will happen with your studies?’ She suddenly realised it sounded like she was interrogating him, so she quickly added, ‘Will you be able to catch up?’

Sifan stole a timid glance at her, then turned to Mancheng imploringly.

His father stood with his hands at his sides, looking anxiously at his son. Shanshan saw tears welling up in the boy’s eyes and couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. She was about to say something consoling when a shadow passed their door. ‘So you have a young visitor? Let me see. Boy or girl? Your nephew or niece?’

Mancheng turned and greeted their neighbour awkwardly, ‘Granny Pudong, you’re back from the market early.’

Shanshan quickly walked up to the old woman. ‘He’s Mancheng’s guest. Come on, let’s go to your place for a chat.’ She took the hint and they left together. Shanshan decided to tell her everything in order to gain her support.

‘Dad…’ Sifan stood at the corner of the table, looking timidly at his father.

Mancheng pushed a stool over. ‘Take a seat.’

Sifan sat and Mancheng took a can of cola from the fridge for him. The boy took a sip then choked on the strange taste. He gave the can back.

With a smile, Mancheng poured him an orange juice instead.

Sifan took the glass but didn’t drink. ‘Dad, is this your home?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s so small. How do you all live here?’

‘Housing is very difficult in Shanghai. This seems small, but compared to lots of other people, we’re much better off.’

‘It’s not what I imagined.’

‘Really?’

‘I…I thought your home would be a lot better than this.’ Sifan didn’t want to elaborate, but Mancheng could easily guess what his son had in mind.

He wanted to ask more about Sifan’s mother, but Shanshan was upstairs and if she heard them talking about his first wife, she’d be furious.

‘The living space here is much smaller than what you’re used to.’

‘Our house is really big,’ Sifan said. Then he frowned. ‘Dad, why did you divorce Mum? Was it because she wasn’t nice to you?’

Mancheng could keep quiet, but he couldn’t stop his son speaking. He anxiously looked at the doorway and strained to hear if Shanshan was coming. When he was sure she wasn’t in earshot, he said in a hushed voice, ‘No, your mother was very nice to me.’

‘Why did you divorce, then? Just to live in this small room?’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ He didn’t point out that when he returned to Shanghai, he didn’t know Shanshan and had no idea they’d have this room as their home.

‘But why? I don’t understand.’ Sifan suddenly burst into tears.

Mancheng pushed the cup aside and put his arm around his son. ‘What’s wrong? Don’t cry, tell me what’s wrong.’

Sifan’s shoulders twitched. ‘You have no idea how lonely Mum and I have been in the village. In school I was…I was bullied and teased all the time.’ He pushed the glass of juice away so hard that it fell and spilt over the table and started dripping onto the floor.

Mancheng felt helpless. Consumed with guilt, he pulled the boy closer and murmured, ‘Don’t cry, Sifan. Dad’s with you now.’

Sifan clutched at him and cried even louder when he saw Shanshan standing at the door, looking pale.

‘Are you out of your mind, Shanshan? How could you let the child stay in your home? You’ll have no peace!’ Granny Pudong flung a string of questions at her after hearing her story. She said Shanshan was naive. ‘What if the child refuses to leave? How can you be so foolish?’

‘But where else could he live in Shanghai?’

‘That’s his father’s problem.’

‘What can he do? His parents’ place is overcrowded. There are three generations living there.’

‘You’re just too kind, Shanshan.’

She appreciated Granny’s concern, but couldn’t abandon her husband. She was going to go to the market to buy ingredients for a welcome dinner for Sifan.

Coming downstairs, she didn’t hear Mancheng’s conversation with his son, she only heard Sifan’s crying. When she saw father and son holding each other so closely, she felt a pang of envy. It dawned on her that this boy was here to steal Mancheng’s heart. She shuddered.

‘Take care of him. I…I’m going to the market.’

The question came back to her: did she still love her husband?

She took a basket and went out, feeling dispirited. The autumn sun was still bright and crisp and a fresh breeze was blowing. Shanshan looked up and saw nothing but an endless white.

Holding his son tightly, Mancheng felt Sifan’s heartbeat, his warmth and his trembling. He’d let down his son and his first wife. Sifan’s accusation made him realise for the first time that he and Luo hadn’t had the peaceful and pleasant life in the village he’d chosen to imagine for them. For ten years, Sifan had lived without a father. Sifan’s crying subsided and he gradually calmed down. As Mancheng held him, his mind was led to thoughts of Xishuangbanna.

It was an early June morning in the wet season. The green landscape was covered in silver fog. Coconut trees, bamboo bushes, the river and the village looked like a classic Chinese ink painting, frozen in the early morning silence.

The fog started rising until drizzle began to fall. Dewdrops were sliding off the leaves, tapping the ground as they fell. The sound of footsteps on wet ground came from the path. Mancheng was hiding behind a tree, listening attentively. The path ran through the thick rainforest, and villagers who brought contraband items from across the border had to follow it to get to Xishuangbanna. Slippers, jewellery, nylon umbrellas and clothes, cigarettes, cosmetics, underwear, padded bras, cards with pictures of naked women, shiny wrist watches, these were in high demand. Regional officials had to organise security to block this pathway to capitalism. Villagers wouldn’t do the job, so the task fell to the zhiqing who had moved here.

Mancheng was assigned the midnight to dawn shift. He dreaded catching women from the village. At the market, city girls swamped the Dai women selling cosmetics and underwear. Mancheng had no interest catching the villagers, but it was a political task and he would be assessed on how well he completed it.

The first thing that caught his eye was an open umbrella. The legs beneath it were wrapped in a long tight skirt that limited its wearer to small, fast steps. But she didn’t seem like a smuggler, she had no bags or baskets. He was about to let her pass when he remembered that he’d been particularly instructed to check anyone who didn’t seem to be carrying anything.

‘Wait a minute!’ Mancheng jumped out from behind the tree.

‘Oh, it’s you, Brother Mancheng.’ The umbrella lowered, revealing a shiny face. It was the Dai girl, Luo Xiuzhu. Her hair was covered with a yellow silk scarf. A silver belt accentuated her tall shapely figure. Luo looked at Mancheng’s face, clearly transfixed, and said with a smile, ‘I was wondering where the guard was today. Hiding behind trees, eh?’

He was immediately drawn to her, she seemed like something from a fairy tale. Trying to act nonchalant, he asked with a faint smile, ‘Where have you been?’

‘Do you want to search me? Go ahead.’ Luo swung her body towards him, half impetuous and half teasing.

Mancheng was overwhelmed. This local girl seemed to be attracted to him and she was so sweet. How could he search her? Where would he start? Just a few days before, at another checkpoint, his colleague had stopped a pregnant woman. A brief conversation had aroused his suspicion and he asked the woman to take off her belt. The woman refused and insisted that the guard do it himself. Unnerved, the young man had no choice but to take the woman to the village’s security office to find a female officer to do the search. The woman wasn’t pregnant but had wrapped up nylon tops, underwear and bras in a mosquito net to make a bump. She was even carrying some photographs of movie stars in bikinis. After taking the photographs and half of her goods, they released her.

Mancheng wasn’t impressed by the story. He thought it better to let the local women make a bit of money. Now his turn had come and he was too embarrassed even to ask Luo to take off her belt. He rubbed his eyes, pretending he was still sleepy. ‘Do you have any goods with you?’

‘What do you think, Brother Mancheng?’ Luo’s tone was coquettish.

‘If you do, you should show them voluntarily.’ Seeing her slender figure holding nothing but an open umbrella, he decided she couldn’t possibly have any contraband and was about to let her go, when he wondered why she’d risk making a trip without bringing back any goods. Luo asked provocatively, ‘Come on, search me. If you don’t find anything, I’ll go.’

It sounded like she was carrying something, but how could he search her? He waved his hand. ‘You’re a girl, you know I can’t search you. You’d better go back to the village. Dawn is breaking.’

Luo didn’t even seem grateful. She closed her umbrella and walked to the tree, gesturing him to come over. He went behind the tree and Luo put her umbrella in his hand. He realised it was much heavier than it should be. He took a closer look and saw that the shaft of the umbrella was thicker than normal and the canopy was bigger.

While he tried to think of how to ask her to open her umbrella, Luo swiftly turned and took off her silver belt. It was a dazzling sight. He saw a piece of velvet inside the belt covered with all kinds of jewellery, jade and gemstones. He’d never seen so much in one place in his life.

‘These must be worth a fortune!’

‘If I had a fortune, I wouldn’t bother to do this. They’re all fake, silly boy!’ Luo laughed at him. ‘They’re man-made and very cheap. But put them in the sun and they glitter and look beautiful. I can make a few hundred yuan selling these. Do you want one? Pick one or two.’

It was an obvious bribe. Mancheng waved his hand. ‘No, what would I need them for?’

‘For your favourite girl,’ said Luo.

‘I don’t have one.’

‘Are you serious?’ Luo blinked her big eyes, looking up at him.

He turned away, heart pounding. He remembered the time when he gave her a ride on his bicycle and she had put her arms tightly around his waist.

He said quietly, ‘I’m not lying to you.’

‘I believe you, Brother Mancheng.’

Mancheng picked up the umbrella and gave it back to her. ‘So there’s stuff inside here?’

‘Yes, want to have a look?’

‘No, leave it.’

‘All right. If I open it, it might be hard to put everything back inside again.’

Luo put down the umbrella and flattened her silver belt to put it back on. She straightened her back and was about to stretch her arms up when she slipped and lost her balance. She squealed and Mancheng caught her. Closing her eyes, she mumbled softly, ‘Brother Mancheng…’

In his twenty odd years, it was the first time he’d been so intimate with a girl. Her chest heaved in front of his eyes and her beautiful face turned to him. He felt a surge of warmth through his body and he lowered his face and kissed her soft lips.

Clouds drifted over the woods and village. It started drizzling.

At dusk, on the avenue and in stairwells, the neighbourhood came alive. Children shouted, bicycle bells rang incessantly, passers-by shouted hellos at each other, water gushed as residents did their washing, and people screamed abuse. All these noises crashed through the window of Mancheng’s little room. The upstairs neighbours kept running up and down the stairs so Mancheng closed the door, worried they would see Sifan.

Siyun was home from school, doing her homework. She chewed the rubber at the end of her pencil, tilted her head and asked Mancheng, ‘Dad, last time our teacher asked us who had siblings, you told me I was an only child. How come I have an older brother now?’ She blinked and gazed at him.

Mancheng remembered that Xiao Bailian had warned him Sifan could understand Shanghai dialect – clearly he could understand what Siyun said.

‘Dad, tell me.’

‘Well, your brother lived in another city,’ he replied, then quickly changed the subject. ‘Siyun, finish your homework. We’re waiting for you for dinner.’

‘But I don’t know how to do this question.’

‘I’ll teach you.’ Sifan sat next to Siyun.

Mancheng was surprised that brother and sister were close so quickly. Normally he’d insist Siyun complete her homework independently, but he had no intention of interrupting them. He loved to see them getting along well even though they were so different – one born in Xishuangbanna to a Dai mother, the other born in Shanghai, doted on by both parents, living a carefree life.

An anxious day was nearly over. He had done less than he normally did at work, but felt more exhausted. It had been emotionally and mentally draining. He noticed Shanshan was kept busy with grocery shopping, washing and making lunch, not allowing herself a break. She didn’t have her usual gentle smile. She was polite when she asked Sifan to the table, but he could see she was very unsettled. She hardly spoke to him.

She poured the vegetables into the smoking wok then called for Mancheng and asked him to keep stirring for her. She rushed downstairs and was away for a while before he realised she’d gone to the communal toilet. Their building had been built before 1949 and had very poor amenities. There were no toilets so each household used chamber pots and the residents took them out each morning to a designated pit at the end of the avenue. But with a fourteen-year-old boy in the room, Shanshan now had to go to the communal toilet which was five minutes away. Mancheng felt humiliated and worried. What would she do during the night?

She didn’t complain. After lunch, she lay on the bed and dozed off for a short while then hurried back to work. Before she left, she told Mancheng that she’d prepared the dishes for dinner and he just needed to warm them up, cook some rice and make soup. He offered to accompany her to the factory, but she declined, suggesting he tell Sifan to rest.

He watched from the window as Shanshan climbed onto her bike. Tears of guilt and gratitude welled up. He was saddened by his uselessness. A two-room apartment would be so much better.

Tentative footsteps sounded in the stairwell. There were no lights on the stairs. In the evening, it was very dark and strangers had to make their way up carefully, holding onto the banister.

The footsteps stopped at their door.

An unfamiliar female voice asked, ‘Is this the one?’

‘That’s right.’ It was a neighbour’s voice.

There was a gentle knock on the door and Mancheng jumped up to see a woman of Shanshan’s age standing in the doorway, smiling.

‘Is this the home of Liang Mancheng?’

‘Yes…’

Before he could say anything else, a boy jumped out from behind the woman and screamed with excitement, ‘Sifan! Sifan!’

Sifan dropped his pencil. ‘Xiaofeng!’

The two boys embraced, cheek to cheek. Siyun watched, her little finger in her mouth, looking as surprised as the adults.

5.

The post box was around the corner. Xiaofeng watched people drop letters into it before he decided to post his own letter. The note on the post box said the mail was collected twice a day. In the village, it was emptied only once a day.

He took another look at the envelope first. He hated to think of being the one to tell his mother the bad news.

Sifan had confirmed that ‘lao gai’ in Shanghai dialect meant prison. Xiaofeng’s intuition had been right, his dad was in jail. No wonder his grandpa and the whole family tried to hide the truth. When Sifan told him the meaning he felt instantly deflated, and everything else he wanted to ask evaporated from his mind.

On the way back home, Xiaofeng insisted that his aunty tell him the truth and she confirmed it. His dad had committed a crime and been sent to a prison.

Back at Grandpa’s place, he was very quiet and only ate half his dinner. If he’d known, he wouldn’t have travelled all the way to Shanghai. Grandpa and his uncle wouldn’t tell him what kind of crime his dad had committed. They only said it wasn’t serious and that he had been given a three-year sentence. He had served a year already.

Xiaofeng wrote to his mother that night, telling her what he’d discovered. He asked her if she’d like to come to Shanghai to visit his dad. If she would, he’d wait for her, but if she didn’t want to come, he’d return home. Shanghai was impressive and his grandpa and the family were very nice to him, but he missed her.

With the letter posted, Xiaofeng felt relieved. He just needed to wait for a reply. On their way to Shanghai, Xiaofeng had been the happiest and most relaxed among his group of five. Unlike the others, he had his dad’s home address. And his parents hadn’t divorced. But now he’d turned out to be the most unfortunate – all the other children had met either their mum or their dad.

According to Mum, you were such a good dad, Xiaofeng thought. How could you become a criminal?

It was late at night. A tiny patch of stars was visible through the cell window. A few leaves shuddered in a corner of the night sky.

It was autumn, so the breeze had a chill. His younger brother Jiaqi had visited him, bringing some things to wear. He said he’d come next month with winter clothes. Zhengqi’s family made his guilt and shame feel even more acute. His parents and his girlfriend visited once and never came back. Only his younger brother made regular visits. He knew his brother would rather not come, but he needed clothes and news from home. Jiaqi was ten years his junior, so there wasn’t much to talk about. But today his brother had shocked him. His son Xiaofeng had come all the way from Xishuangbanna to Shanghai. Jiaqi said that he was a very good, sensible boy, but unhappy that he couldn’t see his dad.

He was usually strong-willed and seldom cried. Even on the day he was handcuffed and sentenced he hadn’t dropped a single tear, but today tears blurred Zhengqi’s vision.

In Xishuangbanna, rivers flowed, flowers blossomed across the four seasons and fruit was harvested all year long. Mengbai Village was called ‘the home of peacocks and elephants’. The local bamboo houses had balconies and were cool in summer and warm in winter. Today the late afternoon had turned sultry. After dinner, girls from the village came to the riverbank to wash clothes, bathe or swim. From the bank, they appeared to float in the river like flowers, with their colourful straight skirts drifting up through the water.

Zhengqi wanted to jump in and swim. He was a good swimmer and could easily do a few laps across the small river. But he still wasn’t used to swimming among the girls, who teased him. He walked further along the bank till the village was barely visible. Around the bend of the river, he felt he was at a safe distance, so he took off his clothes and jumped in.

The water felt warm after a day in the sun. Floating on the surface, Zhengqi closed his eyes and indulged in the moment, letting the river caress his body.

‘Brother, that’s a good idea. It looks great!’

Zhengqi had almost lost himself when he heard the girl’s lilting voice. It was Yihe, a Dai girl he knew from the village. Her yellow floral skirt floated around her as she swam over to him, smiling.

He was caught by surprise. ‘You…Why are you here?’

‘I could ask you the same. Brother, can you teach me how to float on the water like that? It looks so comfortable.’

‘I don’t know how to teach you.’ Zhengqi wanted to disappear. He had no idea how he could ever teach a half-naked girl to swim on her back.

‘I was teasing you. You’re scared, aren’t you?’ Yihe’s laughter rippled across the water and echoed in his ears. ‘Brother, I know you’re a good swimmer. Let’s have a race!’

‘Fine, I’m not scared of you.’ Zhengqi’s competitive spirit emerged. He raised his arm. ‘You stay there. I’ll let you have a head start. On the count of three…’

‘Wait a minute!’ She also raised her arm. ‘Whoever loses has to be punished!’

‘Deal!’

‘Ready, set…One, two…’

Before he could shout three, Yihe had shouted it herself and started swimming like a fish.

Zhengqi had no time to condemn her cheating. He flung out his long arms and swam hard to catch up. He knew she was no match for him, but he wanted to make her happy.

In the village, he had known Yihe the best. Once when they were chatting he casually mentioned that he’d like to taste local dishes. To his surprise, she invited him to her home because the family had prepared a special Dai dish of raw deer mince with ginger, garlic, chives, peppercorns and lemon juice. After the meal, she sat at her weaving table on the balcony. Zhengqi sat next to her and they talked as the moon shone and then retired behind the clouds.

Since then, a rumour had started that Zhengqi was dating the Dai girl. He vigorously denied it but the villagers ignored him and kept teasing him. To quieten them he deliberately avoided contact with local girls. But Yihe didn’t seem to mind the rumour and she happily greeted him each time she ran into him. In June at the Dai New Year festival, the young women and men of the village wore new clothes and played a courtship game where the women threw embroidered bags for the men to catch. Zhengqi went to watch out of curiosity, but before he knew it, a diamond-shaped bag had landed right in his arms. He wanted to throw it back but the other girls pushed Yihe towards him.

‘It was Yihe who threw it!’

She went red and covered her face in her hands. One of the young men shouted ‘Zhengqi, marry her! She’s a lovely girl.’

Everyone burst out laughing.

Zhengqi smiled awkwardly – he broke out in a sweat and his face went red too. Not knowing what to do, he glanced at Yihe but she just opened her fingers, and peeped at him between them. He threw the bag back and ran away. The laughter followed him.

While he was remembering all this, he didn’t notice that Yihe had swum far ahead of him. He had to catch her or she’d be able to punish him.

The sun touched the mountain top and fell over its side. The smooth, soothing water had gone quiet. Yihe’s face reappeared from under it. ‘Brother, you can’t catch me!’

He couldn’t let a young girl defeat him. She looked small and fragile, but in the water she was swift as a mermaid. He had to swim very hard to get closer to her, then he realised she was swimming into the centre of the river and against the current.

The sun had set now and the fields along the banks were covered in mist. Yihe’s body looked smooth like jade in the soft light. She rose in the water and waved at Zhengqi, ‘Come on! Come and catch me!’

Her voice sounded tired. Zhengqi quickly got closer but he slowed down, heart pounding, as he came close to her body.

Yihe turned around and suddenly saw him at her side. Surprised for a moment, she quickly recovered, laughing and splashing water at him. ‘You can’t catch me!’

The second she looked away, Zhengqi made a jump at her and grabbed her shoulders. ‘You’re caught!’ Yihe tried to swim and escape, but Zhengqi held her to his chest. The touch of her skin made him shudder. His breathing quickened. Feeling that she wanted to break away, he let her go. But then she pushed closer to him, her laughter coloured with expectation.

Yihe pressed her cheek to his. She murmured, ‘Brother, remember the day you came to our house for that deer meat? You sat on a stool next to my weaving table. According to our custom, that meant you had proposed to me and I had accepted.’

He didn’t know what to say.

‘Do you remember I threw that bag at you?’

‘Of course.’

‘So…do you want me?’ Yihe lifted her head, looking at him shyly.

He held her tight and kissed her but she cradled his face in her hands, pushed it away then asked gently, ‘Tell me. You have to tell me.’

‘Yes, I do. I love you Yihe.’ Zhengqi’s voice trembled. She squealed and held him close.

The moon escaped the clouds, and rays of dream-like silver shot across the river and its banks.

Past and present merged and kept gnawing at him like a hungry mouse. Sleepless at night and restless during the day, he remembered Yihe’s bamboo house, he remembered his son’s lovely sleeping face and intelligent eyes; he remembered Yihe’s gentleness and hard work. But when he’d suddenly had the opportunity to return to Shanghai and take over his dad’s job, he didn’t worry about his wife and son. He told her that the policy only allowed him to go back to Shanghai alone, but after he found his feet, and made lots of money, he’d bring her and their son to live with him. He assured her that the pain of separation was only temporary. Yihe’s simple acceptance of his lies filled him with guilt. Looking at him with admiration and love, she believed that he’d soon be back in Xishuangbanna to take her and their son to the big city.

He tried very hard to make money in the city. Being smart and eloquent, he worked in acquisitions and sales and was soon promoted. He learnt quickly and started building his reputation in the trade. He travelled a lot and became very knowledgeable about who wanted to buy his factory’s products and who could supply what the factory needed. He was highly efficient and won the factory bosses’ approval and appreciation. Even when he broke the rules – travelling in comfortable sleeping cars and staying in luxury hotels – the leaders signed his expense claims without question and still awarded him bonuses. When he helped others, he had no hesitation taking commissions or money as a gift. When it was feasible, he’d do private deals and pocket the profits.

But the success of each deal numbed his heart. He became more sophisticated, and enjoyed his luxuries. When he thought back on his uncomplicated love for his wife in the country, he couldn’t help laughing at his own naivety. From time to time, alone in the middle of the night, he took out the old picture of his wife and son sitting with him. Bitterness, affection and resignation assailed him, so he would hide it again. He had the money and time to make a trip to Xishuangbanna now. Once he went to Sichuan for business, but didn’t bother going further to Yunnan. In his heart, he knew his marriage to Yihe would be dissolved as time went by, according to local custom. He hoped she’d re-marry, which would leave him free of any emotional and moral responsibilities.

He met a hairdresser named Yani who was nineteen. After high school, Yani didn’t pass the university entrance exam and couldn’t find a job that she liked. Both her parents were hairdressers, so she learnt by watching them. They helped her set up a small salon on the corner of their street. Business was good at the beginning and she made enough to go out and buy expensive clothes. But it didn’t last long. Someone bought a cigarette shop on the same street and transformed it into a modern, air-conditioned salon. It even had a fancy name, ‘Mengnasi Beauty Parlour’, even though no one knew what it meant. Even as the new salon took most of Yani’s business, she didn’t seem too concerned because she always thought hairdressing was beneath her – she would have closed the shop if not for her parents. At least this way she had plenty of free time.

Zhengqi often went to a small hotel on the same street as the hairdresser to meet with clients. He could see why the new salon was more popular. Apart from looking modern, the owner had also hired two attractive young girls and one young man. Yani wasn’t ugly but she was a little plain. She dressed casually and threw on a loose white coat when in the shop.

One day Zhengqi went to the hotel to see a client, but he arrived early and needed to kill some time. He walked into Yani’s shop thinking about a haircut, knowing he could keep an eye on the entrance to the hotel. He sat in the chair and she came to him, putting her hand on his forehead and pushing back his fringe. ‘What style do you want?’

‘You choose, as long as it looks good.’ He had passed the age of caring about his hair.

‘I’ll cut both sides neat and short and keep it longer on top. Then a blow dry and some hairspray.’ Yani was on tiptoes, standing close to him. When she spoke to him, Zhengqi could smell the orange of her chewing gum. He couldn’t help glancing at her. Her eyes weren’t big but they were clear and bright, her dark pupils like grapes in water.

‘Just do what you think is best.’

‘You’ll be happy.’ Yani smiled at him.

He knew she could rip him off. Normally after a hairdresser suggested the style, he would ask the price. But she was so friendly, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

She lowered his chair and started cutting. Zhengqi looked at himself in the mirror. His beard almost covered his mouth. People might mistake him for a man in his forties. He looked even older with Yani beside him. She moved swiftly and seemed so youthful. Her white coat smelt of sunshine. Each time she stood on tiptoes, reaching over him, her chest and belly touched his body. He had an urge to pull her into his arms. Yani was concentrating and didn’t seem to know what was on his mind. Her skin was very pale – she must stay indoors most of the time.

‘How’s business?’ he asked casually.

‘So great. You’re my first customer today.’

Zhengqi was amused by her sarcasm. He teased her, ‘You aren’t concerned, because you made a fortune in the months before that new salon opened.’

‘You’re kidding. The money was already spent. I’m just a hair-dresser and can’t compete with someone like you.’

‘Me? What about me?’

‘You drink imported wine, smoke imported cigarettes and wear an expensive suit. You’re a rich man, aren’t you? Don’t try to pretend.’

Zhengqi laughed, enjoying the young girl’s flattery. ‘So you’ve been keeping an eye on the people who go in and out of the hotel across the street?’

‘I wouldn’t do that. I heard it from the hotel owner. He said his hotel was small, but your business deals were very big.’

‘They’re all deals for the company.’

‘Don’t try to fool me. Who doesn’t profit from their company deals these days?’

Zhengqi laughed, patting Yani’s waist. ‘You’re a sharp girl.’

She didn’t move away, nor tell him off. His heart started to beat faster.

Yani’s nonchalance aroused his curiosity and desire. When she bent again to cut his fringe, his hand moved to her chest.

‘Behave yourself,’ she gently reprimanded him, ‘People might see.’

He withdrew his hand, pleased with her response. It wasn’t his advance she objected to, just that other people might see it. Yani rubbed cream into his hair. She massaged his scalp and his whole body responded. She held his head and worked the pressure points. He’d never felt so relaxed.

‘You’re very good,’ Zhengqi couldn’t help complimenting her.

‘I use my skills to make money. I don’t rip off my customers.’

The massaging took longer than the haircut. When he got up to walk to the basin, he saw on the board that a haircut and massage cost six yuan. So if business was good, Yani could easily make a small fortune.

At the basin, she held the back of his neck with one hand while washing his hair with the other. She touched his face a few times with her long fingers and at the end she pinched his nose and said, ‘You’re very naughty!’

Zhengqi enjoyed her flirtatious teasing and sensed that she’d do more than haircutting. When she picked up a hot towel to wipe his face, he put his arm around her waist. She flicked him with the towel, but he pulled her closer and kissed her.

‘No!’

‘No one can see us from outside.’

Yani didn’t slap him or shout for help.

When she shaved him, she did it very carefully. Her free hand kept moving between his lips and chin. Each time her fingers touched his lips, he’d try to kiss them. She smiled knowingly but said nothing. He stared at her till she felt uneasy and threw a towel over his face. He laughed from under the towel and she laughed with him.

When she finished, he tried to stand up to kiss her. She pushed him back down then bent to allow the kiss. At first, her lips were tightly closed, but with some pressure from his, she slowly opened them.

After a final touch of hairspray, he looked refreshed and younger. Yani took off her white coat. He handed her a ten yuan note but she pushed it back into his pocket. ‘Is that really necessary?’

‘But…’ He looked at her, feeling touched.

Yani pursed her lips and said, ‘If you really like me, come and see me tonight. Sitting in the salon ten hours a day, I get so bored.’

That evening, Zhengqi slipped into the closed hairdresser’s. Yani was flipping through magazines restlessly. The moment he arrived, she ran into his arms. She locked the door and led him inside. There was a small room behind the salon with a bed. Her parents insisted she run the shop till they retired. So now she was trapped in the shop day and night.

He didn’t expect a plain girl like Yani to be so eager for romantic love. Seeing her so full of expectation, he lied that he’d been preoccupied with thoughts of her all afternoon. He also made up a story that he’d noticed her beautiful face a long time ago and followed her. She smiled and said, ‘I’ve been watching you. The hotel owner told me that you were zhiqing and had come back from the country. You’re not young, but you’re still single. At dinnertime, I went over to the hotel and saw you still there with your client, so I guessed you’d come tonight.’

They didn’t turn the light on, but sat talking in the dark. He didn’t need to make much effort before she yielded. He soon realised she was a virgin.

After dressing, he took out one hundred yuan. To his surprise, she threw the notes back at him and cursed him. ‘What do you take me for? If you think I did it for money, don’t ever come back!’

She burst into tears.

Zhengqi quickly bent down to beg her forgiveness. He realised he was dealing with a girl who genuinely wanted to be with him.

Their relationship progressed quickly. As time went by, they fell in love. She had an abortion for him, but he wouldn’t bring himself to tell her that he couldn’t marry her.

One night, when he rushed to her place after returning from a business trip, he brought a large sum of money with him. The next morning, Yani got up quietly and tiptoed to his bag. She was curious to find out if he’d told her the truth about coming to her directly without going home to drop off the money. She opened it and saw the money, but she also found a photo Zhengqi had kept of his wife and son.

She was devastated and retaliated fiercely. She reported him for rape. Zhengqi looked for the letters Yani had written him as evidence of their relationship, but he couldn’t find them. Regardless, without dissolving his previous marriage, his adulterous relationship with Yani was illegal. And though he hadn’t raped her, he had hidden the truth from her. At first he had thought Yani was tempted by the money but he found out later that she hadn’t taken a penny. After hurting a girl who was so devoted to him, he had no intention of defending himself. In his heart, he felt guilty and also regretted that he’d let his wife and son down. He deserved to be punished.

He was sentenced to three years imprisonment.

Zhengqi believed all this had happened for a reason. But how could he explain it to his son? In his memory, Xiaofeng was still a child who’d only just learnt to walk and talk. Zhengqi had changed, becoming an operator, a wheeler and dealer, but he was unaware that his son had also grown and become a young man.

He longed to see his son, but told his brother not to bring him to visit and not to tell him where he was. Jiaqi gave a bitter smile and said, ‘The boy is very smart – you can’t hide anything from him. He’s figured out that you’re in prison.’

If his son had found out he was in prison, he must have told his mother. What would Yihe and the villagers think of him? Nothing could replace that first love, rooted in Dai culture. He felt the deepest guilt towards Yihe who had trusted him and idolised him. He had realised his dream by returning to Shanghai and making a small fortune. But what had he lost?

He had no real answer. For himself or for his son.