Both Mother and Fang Rong looked happy chatting under the sparkling sun. Toward the end of their conversation, after Fang Rong had given Mother the address of the ‘rich businessman,’ she shoved me into a waiting rickshaw. ‘Quick! Don’t make the master wait!’
When the vehicle was about to take off, Mother put her face close to me and whispered, ‘From now on, listen to Aunty Fang and your new master and behave. Will you promise me that?’
I nodded, noticing the tears welling in her eyes. She gently laid the cloth sack containing my meagre possessions (a small amount of cash and a few rice balls sprinkled with bits of salted fish) on my lap, then put her hand on my head. ‘Xiang Xiang, I’ll be leaving in a month. If I can, I’ll visit you. But if I don’t, I’ll write as soon as I’ve arrived in Peking.’ She paused, a faint smile breaking on her withered face. ‘You’re lucky …’
I touched her hand. ‘Ma …’
Just as I was struggling to say something, Fang Rong’s voice jolted us apart. ‘All right, let’s go, better not be late.’ With that, the rickshaw puller lifted the poles and we started to move.
I turned back and waved to Mother until she became a small dot and finally vanished like the last morning dew.
Fang Rong rode beside me in silence. Houses floated by as the rickshaw puller grunted along. After twists and turns through endless avenues and back alleys, the rickshaw entered a tree-lined boulevard.
Fang Rong turned to me and smiled. ‘Xiang Xiang, we’ll soon be there.’
Though the air was nippy, the coolie was sweating profusely. We bumped along a crowded street past a tailor, an embroidery shop, a hair salon, and a shoe store before the coolie finally grunted to a stop.
Fang Rong paid and we got out in front of the most beautiful mansion I’d ever seen. With walls painted a pale pink, the building rose tall and imposing, with a tightly closed red iron gate fiercely guarded by two stone lions. At the entrance, a solitary red lantern swayed gently in the breeze. An ornate wooden sign above the lintel glinted in the afternoon sun. I shaded my eyes and saw a shiny signboard, black with three large gold characters: PEACH BLOSSOM PAVILION. On either side, vertical boards flanking the gate read:
Guests flocking to the pavilion like birds,
Beauties blooming in the garden like flowers.
‘Aunty Fang,’ I pointed to the sign, ‘what is this Peach—’
‘Come on,’ Fang Rong cast me an annoyed look, ‘don’t let your father wait,’ and pulled me along.
My father? Didn’t she know that he was already dead? Just as I was wondering what this was all about, the gate creaked open, revealing a man of about forty; underneath shiny hair parted in the middle shone a smooth, handsome face. An embroidered silk jacket was draped elegantly over a lean, sinewy body.
He scrutinised me for long moments, then his face broke into a pleasant grin. ‘Ah, so the rumour is true. What a lovely girl!’ His slender fingers with their long, immaculate nails reached to pat my head. I felt an instant liking for this man my father’s age. I also wondered, how could the ugly-to-death Fang Rong catch such a nice-looking man?
‘Wu Qiang,’ Fang Rong drew away his hand, ‘haven’t you ever seen a pretty girl in your life?’ Then she turned to me. ‘This is my husband Wu Qiang and your father.’
‘But Aunty—’
Now Fang Rong put on an ear-reaching grin. ‘Xiang Xiang, your father is dead, so from now on Wu Qiang is your father. Call him De.’
Despite my liking for this man, in my heart no one could take the place of my father. ‘But he’s not my de!’
Fang Rong shot me a smile with the skin, but not the flesh. ‘I’ve told you that now he is, and I’m your mother, so call me Mama.’
Before I could protest again, she’d already half-pushed me along through a narrow entranceway. Then I forgot to complain because as we passed into the courtyard, my eyes beheld another world. Enclosed within the red fence was a garden where lush flowerbeds gave off a pleasing aroma. On the walls were painted lovely maidens cavorting among exotic flowers. A fountain murmured, spurting in willowy arcs. In a pond, golden carps swished their tails and gurgled trails of bubbles. A stone bridge led across the pond to a pavilion with gracefully upturned eaves. Patches of soothing shade were cast by artfully placed bamboo groves.
While hurrying after Fang Rong and Wu Qiang, I spotted a small face peeking out at me from behind the bamboo grove. What struck me was not her face but the sad, watery eyes which gazed into mine, as if desperate to tell a tale.
When I was on the verge of asking about her, Fang Rong cast me a tentative glance. ‘Xiang Xiang, aren’t you happy that this is now your new home? Isn’t it much better than your old one?’
I nodded emphatically, while feeling stung by those sad eyes.
‘I’m sure you’ll like it even better when you taste the wonderful food cooked by our chef,’ Wu Qiang chimed in enthusiastically.
Soon we arrived at a small room decorated with polished furniture and embroidered pink curtains. Against the back wall stood an altar with a statue of a white-browed, red-eyed general mounted on a horse and wielding a sword. Arrayed in front of him were offerings of rice, meat, and wine.
In the centre of the room was a table set with chopsticks, bowls, and dishes of snacks. Fang Rong told me to sit between her and Wu Qiang. With no other etiquette, she announced that dinner would begin. A middle-aged woman brought out plates of food, then laid them down one by one on the table. After filling the bowls with rice and soup, she left without a word.
During the whole meal, Fang Rong kept piling food into my bowl. ‘Eat more, soon you’ll be a very healthy and charming young lady.’
I’d never before tasted food so delicious. I gulped down chunks of fish, shrimp, pork, chicken, and beef, washing them down with cup after cup of fragrant tea.
When dinner was finished, I asked, ‘Aunty Fang—’
‘Did you forget that I’m now your mama?’
Her stare was so fierce that I finally muttered a weak, ‘Mama.’ I swallowed hard. ‘After dinner, are we going to see the master and the mistress of the mansion?’
Barely had I finished my question when she burst into laughter. Then she took a sip of her tea and replied meaningfully. ‘Ha, silly girl! Don’t you know that we are your new master and mistress?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That’s what I mean – I am the mistress and my husband is the master of this Peach Blossom Pavilion.’
‘What is Peach Blossom Pavilion?’
‘A book chamber.’
I looked around but didn’t see any books, not even bookshelves.
Fang Rong cast me a mysterious look. ‘A cloud and rain pavilion.’
Now Wu Qiang added soothingly, ‘This is … ah … a turquoise pavilion.’
‘What—’
Fang Rong spat, ‘A whorehouse!’
Wu Qiang looked on with a mysterious smile while his wife burst out in a loud laugh. Then she chided me affectionately. ‘Why do people always have to have the entrails drawn?’
She was referring to the Chinese saying that when one paints a portrait, he even includes the intestines – an act redundant and stupid.
Shocked, it took several beats before I could utter, ‘But didn’t you tell us that the master is a merchant of foreign trade?’
Fang Rong laughed, her huge breasts and bulging belly shivering. ‘Ha! Ha! It’s true. From time to time we do entertain