A Concubine for the Family: A Family Saga in China (23 page)

When he was sure his brother-in-law had regained his composure, he instructed: “Arrange for this emergency. After all, the survival of your family is the first duty you owe to your ancestors.”

Righteous Virtue looked about the spacious hall filled with ancient scrolls of calligraphy, watercolors, gleaming rosewood furniture and ancient porcelain vases. He pounded his fist against his open hand. “My grandfather, my father and I have all grown up in Hangzhou. These halls are the first fruits of my independence.” His voice rang with angry despair. “I know your judgment to be shrewd and correct. I must sell as much property as possible and turn it into liquid assets, but who am I” — he paused to wipe his eyes — “without my roots?”

“If America seems too far, convert as much money as possible into English pounds. Ask your old classmate Chang Tar Guo of Chekiang Bank to manage it for you in their Hong Kong branch.”

Righteous Virtue nodded in bitter silence. Glorious Dragon sighed. He hoped his brother-in-law had acceded to practical reality.

As the two men bade each other good night, Righteous Virtue bowed deeply to his younger brother-in-law. “Dragon-
dee
, you’re wise beyond your years. My emotions have blinded my common sense. I shall do what I can to follow your advice.”

Glorious Dragon quickly returned the bow. “My honored Virtue-
ko
, I cannot shoulder such esteem. As you know too well, it is difficult to ride with the dragon!”

T
HE NEXT DAY, Purple Jade ordered palanquins to take the Huang women to the station. Palanquins were seldom seen in Shanghai. Residents of the bustling city vilified their ancient languid grace. Purple Jade thought it appropriate that her girls should have another leisurely ride to enjoy the local scenery, temper their excitement, and cultivate the necessary patience and reserve.

The train station was a hive of swirling people and a jumble of luggage. News of war had set people in motion. When the palanquins arrived, Ah Lee was unloading their luggage from the car. Purple Jade lingered to pay the porters while Silver Bell hopped off the palanquin, skipped over the crossbar where the porters shouldered their load, and dashed toward the luggage.

“You pissing bitchy slave girl!” the porter cursed, spitting after Silver Bell.

“What?” Purple Jade gasped, glaring at the porter.

“That pissing bitch passed her female ass over my shoulder bar!” He spat with disgust. “May she suffer the same evil fortune she brought me!”

The porter alternately spat and cursed, disregarding the distressed mother in front of him. Purple Jade wrung her hands and fidgeted in silence. Comely Brook heard the commotion and entered the arena. Assuming her servant’s voice, she shouted: “Shut up, you old turtle! Don’t you know you’ve just carried the great ladies of the Huang household?”

The porter ignored Comely Brook and continued his mutterings. He held out his hand to Purple Jade for compensation: a female had stepped over his crossbar, and in so doing, had blemished its honor.

With a groan, Purple Jade handed over the extra coins and fled. She ran toward the men checking in the luggage and stumbled. The sting of reality hit her: Outside the protective walls of her house, she was but another female, a chattel to even the lowliest porter. Reluctant to upset her husband and the girls, however, she held her peace. Her tears would not come even when the girls boarded the train. She stood transfixed for a long time, weak with fear and pale as the white silk kerchief she held.

Unaware of the indignity she had suffered, Righteous Virtue assumed that her stillness was due to her unaccustomed separation from her daughters. “You’ll be united with the girls very soon, Jade-
mei
.”

Comely Brook clung solicitously to Purple Jade, not knowing how to assuage her mistress’s sorrow. She prayed more fervently now for a son. Yes, she would preserve her noble husband’s family line to avenge her mistress’s humiliation. All would be made right upon the birth of her son — no, “their” son.

Several days later, Purple Jade, Comely Brook and Winter Plum left for Shanghai. Their house in the French concession was technically on foreign land and would remain safe from Japanese depredation. Purple Jade brought only what was essential to her personal needs, refusing to move antiques and family treasures, “since,” as she insisted, “the visit will be temporary.”

Righteous Virtue remained behind to sell property and settle accounts. He shipped more heirlooms to Shanghai every day and told his wife that there might be looting during the war. Proper furnishings were necessary to maintain “face” in their Shanghai house during their short sojourn in the city.

When Shanghai Harbor had been under siege for one month, Righteous Virtue gave detailed directions to the servants to manage the house. He departed, his car stuffed with family valuables. At the last moment, he included one small basket of silkworms, now already fat and snowy white. The gardener supplied a box of mulberry leaves wrapped in a cool wet cloth.

The car crawled through village streets, hugging the ancient north-south canal that had carried silk to Beijing for centuries. The chauffeur finally reached the highway between Nanking and Shanghai. As they approached the city, they heard muffled gunshots. The Chinese were piteously deficient in firepower, and the Japanese navy lobbed bombs into the Chinese sections.

“The East Ocean Devils do not dare bomb the foreign concessions,” snorted Ah Lee. Righteous Virtue did not reply. He was used to the chauffeur’s jaunty ways. In his youth, the novelties of the city had always drawn him into a whirlwind of activities — intoxicating but also exhausting. Now tension strained his taut muscles. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Better to let the chauffeur think him asleep, he thought, than see his anxiety.

Shops and windows were all shuttered in preparation for the violence to come. Sandbags fortified stately buildings. Few people were about.

Suddenly an ocher flash lit the eastern sky. Their nostrils filled with smoke. Righteous Virtue opened his eyes. The gray concrete buildings were silhouetted against a dusty pink sky. He listened for the bomb, but could not distinguish the rumble from the pounding of his heart. There was a gnawing flutter in his stomach; he lit a cigarette with shaking hands.

“That’s a big one!” Ah Lee exclaimed. “But I’ve seen bigger!” He had made several trips to the city within the last weeks.

Righteous Virtue did not know how to respond to such bravado, but he was thankful for the confidence with which the chauffeur threaded the car through the streets leading to the French concession.

The streets came alive as they neared the foreign territory. There had been a migration of people and beggars toward the safety zone. Defeated, shuffling figures filled the streets among temporary lean-tos. The odor of human sweat, cooking grease, and street dust penetrated the car.

Ah Lee blasted his horn and slowed the vehicle to accommodate the dense crowds. Importuning hands quickly surrounded the car. To give alms now would be to incite a riot.

Soldiers came, brandishing their rifles. The crowd thinned, but some hardy bodies clung to the car. A soldier yanked at the collar of a frayed cotton jacket, and a whole strip of cloth came off like peeling paint on a dilapidated wall. The man fled, hugging what remained of his clothes to his chest. Several men began laughing. The tension broke; the ragged men dropped off the car.

Righteous Virtue gave the soldiers a guilty, furtive glance as he passed out two packs of cigarettes. The soldiers quickly cleared the way for them.

The chauffeur stretched himself with impatient languor, his bravado restored. “They’re lucky the soldiers let them stay. They’d be sitting ducks if they were forced to return to the Chinese section.”

Righteous Virtue averted his eyes from the dispossessed masses. He hid behind clouds of cigarette smoke, and cursed the education that had left his emotions vulnerable to the plight of these benighted human beings. The chauffeur, with his callused sensibility, was better equipped for survival.

As Virtue stared ahead through a haze of smoke, he saw a woman picking lice off her daughter’s hair. They sat at the mouth of their lean-to, basking in the sun and watching the bombs hit the Chinese sections. There was such lyric tenderness on the woman’s face that Righteous Virtue started with sharp recognition. This could have been Purple Jade doing Silver Bell’s hair!

W
HEN GLORIOUS DRAGON returned to Shanghai, he exaggerated his public attention toward Iris to divert suspicion. He would not visit Bright Crystal without Iris. Bright Crystal understood his prudence, and Iris was briefed on how to play her role. She began her induction into high society.

These new precautions were necessary, because when Crystal was feeding Glorious Dragon his supper in the hospital one evening, a stranger opened the door, stared at the loving scene and said, “Sorry, wrong room!”

Several unexpected incursions followed, and Dragon became aware of strange men hovering near him when he exercised outside his room. He realized with a shudder that Bright Crystal’s passionate care had been a serious blunder. General Chin must know by now that he was her lover and not a “
tang
cousin.” He and Crystal were brazen to act like hosts in the house the general had provided! With Shanghai under fire, it would be easy for General Chin to kill them both. But why didn’t he? Perhaps the general still required Crystal’s services. She could turn the foreign business contacts against him. Perhaps the general was just biding his time, letting them live in fear and humiliation.

Glorious Dragon had left Shanghai to urge his sister to leave Hangzhou as soon as he was discharged from the hospital. Iris’s presence was a fortuitous gift.

One day, Glorious Dragon received an urgent call from Bright Crystal. She was weeping hysterically. Two ruffians had raped her personal serving girl, Little Lotus, behind their house. They also sent a message to her mistress: “Never see your lover again, or suffer the same fate!”

The young lovers met immediately. They were paralyzed with fear and indecision. “You mustn’t come here any more,” Bright Crystal cried, tears streaming down her face.

“The Japanese may take Shanghai very soon,” Glorious Dragon whispered. “They will neutralize General Chin’s power.”

“It won’t be easy living under the Japanese! General Chin still has underworld connections.” Bright Crystal wiped her face, smearing her make-up. “Shouldn’t we both run away now?”

“Where should we go?” Glorious Dragon began to pace. “I can’t join the Communists in the northwest, so the most logical place is overseas!”

“Who will take care of my father if I leave?”

“And who will manage the Chou family businesses?”

“General Chin often brags about his long arm of influence.” Bright Crystal sobbed. “He can always have us assassinated overseas. I know he believes in revenge.” She trembled uncontrollably.

They stared at each other, mute with anxiety. All their defiant frivolity evaporated.

Glorious Dragon folded his Crystal into his arms. Finally in a tight, angry voice he said: “We’ll stay and wait, but we must not meet again.” The stakes were too high for everything he held dear.

Bright Crystal nodded in silence and packed a bag for her Dragon. Weeping and shivering, she intuitively understood his anger — the helplessness of a fearless Dragon.

Glorious Dragon avoided Avenue Joffre from that day on, posting bodyguards around himself wherever he went.

When Righteous Virtue finally arrived at the house on Petain Road, the insular peace and warm greetings cheered him.

“My lord, you’ve finally come. Purple Jade and Comely Brook bowed their welcome in tandem. Purple Jade and the girls looked fresh and taller in their modern sheaths. Comely Brook, however, had reverted to wearing her pajama-style work clothes. With her expanding girth, she was happy to forgo her fancy sheaths in favor of the simple cotton outfits she made herself. Righteous Virtue smiled broadly, muttering his praise: “You all look wonderful, wonderful.”

“Father, look at the piano uncle Dragon bought us!” said Golden Bell.