All the Flowers in Shanghai (10 page)

I waited with Ba in the entrance hall.

The palanquin was beautiful, its paneled sides carved with animals and symbols and lacquered in red and gold. Fragrant cut flowers were hanging from the sides. A muscular man with his head shaved Manchurian-style stood at each corner, ready to slide the poles in place and carry me away. Ba and Ma were ready to say good-bye to me. Ma said how beautiful I was, nearly as beautiful as Sister, and repeated that this was a great day for me. Then she smiled at me, and for that I will always hate her. That stupid smile, passed from one generation to another, thoughtless and involuntary, of poisoned dreams passed on. Ba looked at me then helped me into the palanquin.

“You look beautiful. And look at this,” he said, brushing the lacquered side with his fingertips, “what a way to leave your old family and join your new one. It is magnificent.”

I could not meet his eyes.

“We will see you at the wedding ceremony.”

His voice trailed away as the curtain was drawn across. I could hear the poles slotting across the sides and then I was lifted up with a jerk and we moved away. I sat quietly even though I was regularly bounced from the seat as the bearers stumbled on the uneven roads. Although the morning chill still lingered, the air inside the palanquin soon became hot and moist from my labored breathing. A sliver of light cut through the drawn curtains, catching and dancing on the embroidery. The bright white line highlighted the beautiful fine stitching, picking out the rise and fall of the needle through the cloth. Eventually I peeped out from between the curtains and could see the streets around our house and the tops of the trees in the gardens in the distance.

The fresh air from outside relieved the closeness. I suddenly saw Grandfather walking back toward the house on the other side of the street. He was hurrying, then stopped and gazed straight at the palanquin. He looked tired, the skin sagging from his face and his hair thinner. He strained to stand straight-backed. His gray eyes followed us as the Manchurians bore me onward. As he watched he was mumbling something to himself, and I noticed the tremor in his arms and hands. He did not see me and it was the last I ever saw of him.

We drew away. People filled the space between us. I saw him stand and stare a moment longer, then he looked down and started to make his way back to the house. I shouted out to him but the sound was deadened inside the wooden palanquin and never made it beyond the thick curtain.

I could not stop crying. Tears ran down my face as we continued to bounce along. Occasionally I was thrown to one side and had to readjust my headdress. Unexpectedly, I began to laugh then. I did not know what was about to happen to me, and while I became lost in my thoughts of the fat young man and his family, we arrived at the Sang house. I heard someone shout out for a door to be opened and then I was carried into a courtyard.

Through the curtains I could see the large boxes that contained the presents from Ma and Ba. Some had been opened and had fabric hanging over their sides or straw poking out; others had been emptied. I saw some of the traditional and customary items, more expensive versions of the things Ma had once shown me from her own dowry: gold jewelry, dried fruits, tea sets, bedspreads, lotus seeds, and the sons’ and grandsons’ bowls. There were also other gifts that my parents had added, such as expensive ceramics and scrolls, unnecessary by tradition but they reinforced our eligibility and gave more face to the Sang family. This was Sister’s world, it was alien to me.

The curtains were abruptly pulled back and in the sunlight I saw the high walls of the courtyard and the four ugly Manchurian bearers standing in front of me, their knotted cues resting on their shoulders. Three servants arrived and helped me from my seat. The courtyard was vast and paved with smooth marble slabs, unlike the small yard at home with its gray stone. The servants led me and the Manchurians followed. To scare away evil spirits others let off firecrackers and various musicians started banging cymbals and playing the whining
erhu
s. Smoke from the firecrackers clouded the courtyard and trailed uselessly into the sky.

When we entered the house, I realized it was very large, several stories high, and could not help stopping to look around me. A servant pulled me forward but I did not stop staring as we walked. The entrance hall had dark wooden paneling and above it there were three more galleried floors, each framed by dark veneered railings. I could see people leaning over these wooden railings and peering down at our small procession. The ceiling was far above. The walls of the hall were lined with beautiful and ancient scrolls, and at intervals were ornate shelves containing deep blue Qinghua porcelain, Tang green-glaze cups and dishes, Song Dynasty porcelain pillows (one shaped like a little boy and another like a little girl), a rare green Longquan celadon and a green mallet vase from the great Hongwu period, and many delicate ornaments of colored glass. Grandfather had shown me pictures of these things when we discussed flower arranging and how there must be a delicate balance between the flowers and their vessel. I knew these were all rare and expensive possessions; that my parents’ painstakingly assembled gifts meant nothing.

I was led to a room at the end of the hall and told to stand at the center of it. A servant waited with me. The room was completely empty except for a maid and me. Like the hall, the floor of this room was of polished wood and on the walls hung huge scrolls showing waterfalls, cranes, and quiet misty mountains, with calligraphy that flowed beautifully but which I could not read properly. The shutters of the room were closed and I felt hot under my layers of heavy cloth. As I stood there I began to sweat.

Suddenly two much older women entered the room. I recognized them from the family visit months ago, on the day it had rained so heavily. They were dressed very traditionally in beautiful long
kua
of brilliant and vivid red with gold inlay, like burning sunsets. Each dress had thick gold trim with large phoenixes embroidered on it. I stared into their faces, which were fat and thickly painted to cover their aging looks. They were grotesque.

Why would Sister choose to live with them? I did not understand why she would want this. The women came close and stared hard at my face. One poked my cheek and another lifted my hand high and reached down into my long sleeve to feel the skin under my arm. She pinched it near my armpit. They muttered to each other with each new poke and pinch. I was too frightened to say anything. One of them lifted my dress at the hem to look at my feet and ankles. I do not think they were happy with my profile, hands, or skin. The ugliest woman, the one with the most makeup and no neck, pushed her face close to mine.

“Do not forget, I am the First Wife of the house. She,” pointing to the other woman, who was standing by the door ready to leave, “is the Second Wife.”

In the quiet after they had shut the door, I started to cry. The servant, who I had forgotten was there, quickly came up to me with a cloth to stop my makeup from being ruined. I stood waiting and crying for the next two hours and all that time she caught my tears.

Eventually I was summoned and led to some double doors. The young man was standing by them waiting for me.

M
y bridegroom looked smarter and less pompous in his black silk wedding suit and long red overcoat embroidered with dragons and characters for good luck. The small hat he wore with its red pompom made him look like a round-faced schoolboy.

He smiled at me and said, “I can only just see you behind that veil, but I can still see enough to know you are very beautiful. I think the guests will agree with me.”

I wondered if he thought of Sister, but Ma had told me not to mention her during the ceremony because it would be bad luck.

“We must go now. Are you ready? I should tell you not to be nervous, but I am a little nervous myself.” He winked at me with a quick smile then signaled to the servants to open the doors.

I only managed a weak smile in reply but he could not have seen this through the veil. Everything was moving so fast now that I did not have time to take it all in. The doors were opened and we entered a large room lined with hundreds of people. At the other end stood two large chairs and there sat his father and the First Wife, in their full silk robes. It could have been the Imperial Court, with everyone assembled to pay their respects.

I looked clumsy walking down the aisle between the guests as my stride was too long, making me out of step with the rest of the procession. The servant had to keep whispering instructions to me. I started to panic, and although I could not hear anyone say anything I think I felt every insult directed at me. Beside my parents-in-law stood numerous other family members, dressed elegantly and expensively. All of them stared hard at me as I approached and I could see them whispering to each other. I learned later that thirty-four members of the family lived in this house, each with their own apartment and agenda, which mostly centered around obtaining more money and influence over the current head of the family, my father-in-law.

Kneeling down on a cushion before my new parents, I was so anxious that I forgot about the hundreds of people looking on. As I glanced up at First Wife from my position at her feet, she looked to me a misshapen thing, like the little creatures Bi and I would mold out of mud while we played by the river. Inside I felt like laughing, but my face was tight and taut with fear. My bridegroom and I were to serve tea to his parents and then to mine. I didn’t know whether I should smile as I gave them the tea, or even look into their eyes. I was just relieved I did not spill it. As the cups were passed back to us, the parents gave us a red packet containing money. From its thickness, my parents-in-law gave their son a modest
li shi
. Ba and Ma gave their new son-in-law a
li shi
that seemed huge. I never realized they had saved so much. After thanking them, we got up and all the guests cheered. It was quite shocking to me to look at my new husband. I was now married.

There would be three banquets to celebrate and I was expected to toast all the guests at each meal. My husband drank alcoholic drinks and First Wife suggested I try some, as not to drink on the first night would be rude. There were thirty-five tables of fifteen people each and we toasted each table. As we approached a table everyone would stand and raise their glasses and we would all drink. Ma had tried to teach me the etiquette and manners needed for the wedding ceremony but everything overwhelmed me. There were simply too many gestures of politeness and custom for me to remember and repeat. I had not had enough time to practice and learn. Nothing made any sense. I called the relatives by the wrong names and gave incorrect greetings. I knew it was disrespectful but I was helpless as there was no time to apologize. By table eight, after three glasses of wine, I started to feel ill but First Wife insisted that I must toast all the other tables, too. If necessary, the servants would hold me up. They diluted my wine with water but by the last few tables I could not see anything and could barely stand. Eventually I tripped and fell, and I remember the laughter as they picked me up.

I was taken to my new bedroom. Lying flat on my back, I stared at the ceiling. My vision blurred around the edges, the details fading and then becoming clear again. A sudden sharp pain sliced through my forehead to behind my eyes, the room began to spin, and I passed out.

The servant who had stemmed my tears before the ceremony, a woman called Yan, stayed by my side all night. In the morning she brought me some congee, which helped soothe my stomach. She sat on the edge of my bed, which was very impolite for a servant, but it was the only friendship and warmth I had been offered for the last two months, apart from those moments with Bi’s mother, and I was glad of it. She told me that I had missed the rest of the banquet, but my mother had told everyone I was tired out by happiness and the excitement of the occasion.

Yan sat and watched me eat. After a few minutes she broke the silence.

“Young mistress, you must be careful in this house. You must watch what you say to people here. There are many rivalries between the members of the family, many old grudges, but it would take me hours to retell them and anyway I should not be talking that way to you. Remember, after your father-in-law, First Wife should always be given the most respect, the most face. Even your husband must follow this, no matter what. She is his mother.”

I did not fully understand what Yan was telling me. I was already afraid of the whole family and did not want to know the other people in the house.

The congee was warm, the smell of boiling rice summoning memories of Grandfather in the kitchen and of afternoons when Bi, Grandfather, and I had sat talking.

“Thank you, Yan,” was all I could offer in reply. I did not wish to allow her, a maid, to see my ignorance.

My thoughts wandered and I did not notice her leave the room.

Other servants entered then to dress me for the day of continued celebrations. I was tired and did not know these maids. I felt shy in front of them and was uncomfortable with them touching me. Their attention was suffocating. I felt afraid of all the things I did not understand and that might hurt me. It was time for me to meet my new husband.

As we entered the hall on the second day, there were jokes and twisted little smiles as we passed by the members of the household, walking arm in arm. Xiong Fa patted my elbow gently as we walked, which I found calming, then smiled at me.

“Are you feeling well?” he asked.

“I think so.”

“Today we will have another tea ceremony, and then this evening we will have a banquet to receive the more distant family members, acquaintances, and business associates. You will be sitting next to my mother, the First Wife. You must give her face, and should offer to place some food on her plate. Please be attentive. It is best if you serve her at the start of the meal. Do
not
wait for her to serve herself or she will be able to say you were not polite, not giving her proper respect. Please do this correctly. You are young, so let me advise you that following the etiquette and customs, all the small things, will make your life here easier. And, please . . . do not worry.”