All the Flowers in Shanghai (12 page)

BOOK: All the Flowers in Shanghai
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Ma saw neither complication nor consequence and so did not create any boundaries of her own, refusing to recognize the way he sought to protect himself from suffering and humiliation. She indulged herself and drew him after her, to a place where he was unprotected from taunting queries and demands. In the dying hours of the evening, Ma laughed and sang in the presence of my new family, confident that her life was now complete, whether anyone else agreed with her or not. Ba stood aside and let it all wash over him. For him it was finished now.

I wondered what would happen later tonight; what Yan had meant when she spoke of it. I had so little knowledge. Sister would certainly have known what was to happen, she and Ma would have discussed it if Sister had not already known, but Ma and Ba had told me nothing. As I sat at the banquet next to my husband, I reflected that he had been quite friendly to me so far. I did not want to be married to him, but he did not seem to mind the fact that I was his wife. I thought then of Bi and how we’d sat in the gardens together. I thought of him holding the corner of my blouse and how our lips had touched. I thought of my dreams of us together; the feeling I had just remembering our kiss was so powerful it beat inside me and overpowered every other sense, so that for a moment I could forget the last few months. I remembered watching and talking to his mother, the seamstress, while she made this dress. I ran the stitching between my finger and thumb under the table as I thought of all of this. I did not know this man next to me, he did not interest me, but I was now First Wife of the next generation of the Sang family. As Sister had predicted, I had inherited her life and her future.

Most women in those days still entered marriages created by their parents and matchmakers, and in the countryside many couples did not even meet each other before the wedding. In the city, though, Grandfather once told me, a few women were now thinking like foreigners and looking for love. But I did not believe I knew anything about love. How did it feel? What could I expect from it? When did it happen? If Sister had lived I might perhaps have been free to discover these things for myself.

After I had gone to my room on the preceding nights, Xiong Fa had stayed up drinking with his friends. Sister would have stayed with him, but I was too young and I think he knew this. Tonight, though, was to be the last night of celebrations and I would stay with him and his drinking friends. One named Cheung Liu had a small thin face with slitty eyes and yellow teeth. During the meal he kept knocking into me as he leaned over to pour drinks, and eventually caused me to drop food from my chopsticks. Xiong Fa put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and, with a seriousness that seemed suddenly out of place, said to him, “Liu, be careful . . . control yourself. You must be kind to my new wife.”

Liu looked shocked for a moment then smiled and replied, “Hey, you had me fooled there. Don’t pretend with us, your old friends, to be so protective and upset. We know you! Soon you will be busy looking for your second wife. You are a Sang man and we all know what that means.”

His friends laughed with him but I saw that Xiong Fa did not smile back. Instead he looked at me. His eyes were apologetic.

The dinner drew to a close with more toasts and Xiong Fa looked drunk. He and I exited first, followed by all the guests. Outside Ba came over to me and held my hand. He had never touched me like this before, holding my hand so tight in his. The party was ending but there was still some time left before the guests would have to depart. He had used Brylcreem in his hair and it was combed back Western-style. He looked as handsome as I had seen him on all those nights I had watched him arrive home late with Ma when I was a child. He was wearing a Western-style suit with a black bow tie around a white wing collar, appearing smaller in the narrow tailored suit, as though he was about to fade away. He looked at me and continued to hold my hand but did not smile. I hoped he was about to tell me something, to say something significant before leaving, but he merely pursed his lips and stared past me into the distance. His eyes refocused on me then. He clasped my hand even tighter and kissed me on the forehead.

“Xiao Feng.” He paused and smiled at me. “Well, you are Xiao Feng no longer. Now you are Mrs. Sang Xiong Fa. Remember, in three days’ time you and Xiong Fa should be coming home to us for the traditional dinner with the bride’s parents. Do not worry if you cannot, though. I realize with all of this,” he looked around, “you might be too busy.

“Besides what would we be able to offer you and your new husband? The food here is glorious, the kitchens famous. I think Cook at home could no longer impress you.” He breathed out, trembling slightly. “Aiii, my young daughter, I never thought this would happen.”

I wanted to be held by him but didn’t have the courage to reach out.

We stood in awkward silence for a moment. After that he released my hand. I wanted to tell him that he was still my Ba and the food did not matter, but no words entered my mouth.

Ma came up to join us. She had been having a wonderful time and now smiled widely at me, saying again how lucky I was to be joining such a fine family, one of the largest in Shanghai. She looked at me, and then around the hall at everyone busy saying good-bye to each other. She turned back to me but said nothing more, just scrutinized me from toe to head. She turned to Ba then. I could see she was tempted to reenter the party, take in the last of the wine, food, and laughter, but she resisted, perhaps out of the little pride she had left. Ba took her by the hand and she followed him to say farewell to Xiong Fa’s parents and the other departing guests.

I stood alone for a second before I was suddenly pushed into the family line so that each guest could file past, giving their congratulations and farewells. Most people said nothing to me, a few said I was a beautiful bride, but all of them scrutinized my clothes, posture, and face. I could only manage a half-smile, I was so tired. Face after face bent forward, filling my vision with fatty jowls and my nose with the stench of stale food and wine. Spitting laughter, these sagging faces hung and swayed above me like dripping wax. After an hour we had finished and Yan led me to my room. As we left I looked back to see First Wife and Second Wife looking at me, talking and shaking their heads.

I was relieved when Yan finally closed my bedroom door. It was finished. I was suddenly very tired yet anxious about what would happen next. Everything had led to this moment, the plans carefully formulated many years ago. But for Sister’s benefit, not for mine.

Yan struggled to undress me as I was so tired and weak I could barely move. I sat in front of the mirror in my
du dou
and she spent a while brushing my hair. She said she had been told not to remove my makeup but to get me to bed. I asked her why but she said only that I should remember what she’d told me that morning: I should do what my husband told me. She helped me untie the
du dou
and then led me to my bed, laying a sheet over me, which she folded back so that my shoulders were exposed. She fanned out my hair across the pillow and blew out the candles and lamps, leaving just one candle burning near the door.

I lay still, but only because in my curiosity I was lost in thought and had forgotten to move. In the silence, wondering what might happen, I suddenly became nervous. My only comfort was that my husband had been very kind during the last three days, particularly when he’d told his friend Cheung Liu to be careful when he knocked me, and in the morning when he’d asked me how I was. I did not know what to expect from a husband, but mine seemed very thoughtful, like Grandfather would be when guests came to the house. While I waited I could only wonder what I would do tomorrow. The wedding celebration had finished so perhaps I could go back to the gardens, at home. I thought my husband would like the quiet there after the noise of the last three days’ celebrations, and I could introduce him to Grandfather if he still wanted to see me.

The door opened and Xiong Fa walked in unsteadily. He was still dressed in his marriage robes. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. He said nothing but stared at my face and the curve of my bare shoulders. His eyes traced the line of my hair spread across the pillow. He stroked it and then my cheek. No one had touched me like this before but it was gentle and kind and I did not feel afraid. His hand stayed on my cheek, making small caresses. He smiled at me.

His face came closer. He pressed his lips against mine and I tried to move away, but he grasped me under the chin to hold me still. Again I tried to pull away and then started to struggle. I wanted him to leave me alone. He reached down and pulled the sheet down to my waist, exposing my breasts. I immediately crossed my arms and he smiled at me again. He paused, then took hold of one of my wrists to move my arm back. I must have looked scared, because he let go of me and waited a moment before letting his left hand slide slowly down my side, moving from my waist to my thigh.

I automatically clenched my legs together, though I did not know why. I was panicking and terrified. His hand stroked my stomach. I tensed, wanting to bring my knees to my chest, to curl into a ball, but I did not dare move and merely clenched them together a little tighter. His fingers moved down from my stomach to between my legs, tracing a line through me. I felt them push slightly inside and clenched hard against them. Tears started to well up inside me. Though I wanted to hide them, they trickled down my cheeks. He saw them and stopped. He withdrew his hand and just sat there, letting both hands fall into his lap. I started to cry, lying perfectly still and silent, hoping like an injured animal that he would stop hurting me and leave.

“Perhaps we should try again tomorrow night.” He breathed out and the air smelled sharply of wine. “Good night.”

He got up, bent over, and kissed me on the forehead. I could only see him for a second. Because I was so rigid with fear, I could not move my head to watch him leave the room. My tears continued. I felt for the sheet and once I had it between my fingers slowly pulled it over me. I lay there in safety for a few seconds then vomited over the bed.

I was woken in the middle of the night by Yan, who looked concerned. I told her I was well enough, but very tired. I saw that the vomit had been cleaned up and my nightclothes laid out. I closed my eyes again and tried to pretend she was not there. The light from the candle kept me awake. I seemed to stay awake for hours, trying to sleep, and though I kept my eyes firmly shut, the faint yellow light danced over my eyelids, making me restive and agitated. When I opened them again, she was still sitting in the chair across the room, watching me. A light breeze broke through the slats in the shutters from the open window and entered the room. It made the flame of the candle move violently and wild shadows lurched around, casting strange shapes and patterns on the wall. I asked her to tell my new family, when morning came, that I was ill and could not leave my room. Then I closed my eyes again, and slept.

Chapter 7

I
awoke to semidarkness as the slats in the shutters could not prevent all the daylight from entering. I could see my wedding dress hanging on the wardrobe door: it would be packed away today. I saw the fine stitching that had brought life to the phoenixes, flowers, and characters adorning the silk. Each golden stitch created by beautiful kind hands. Yet now it looked like a skin that had been shed. I wished the seamstress was here to return us both to life. I missed watching those hands that would never harm me. I closed my eyes and opened them again but nothing had changed; apart from my dress the rest of the room was solid dark wood and lacquer. Two large
guan
of blue-and-white porcelain had been placed on a high table near the wardrobe and there was a beautiful
meiping
in copper red between them. But they were cold, and like the rest of the room made me feel nothing but alone. Yan was gone. I curled up under the sheet and cried again.

Later, Yan told me that on that morning I was traditionally required to make my new family a late breakfast, and that because I’d stayed in my room I had offended them. They had all gathered and waited for me to serve the meal, or at least tea. After Yan told them I was not coming, Father-in-law said nothing but First and Second Wives gossiped openly. They all shot accusing glances at Xiong Fa and eventually the two wives left indignantly. Father-in-law remained seated there for several hours, refusing to move. He sat with his arms folded, staring across the table at my empty seat. He could not understand how his daughter-in-law, now a Sang, could fail to keep the traditions and customs he valued so highly. Xiong Fa would be repeatedly reminded of this over the next few months and I would not be forgiven quickly.

Yan had lied to them as I had asked her to and told them that the last few days had given me a fever. I was very tired and needed time to rest and recover. She brought bowls of medicinal soup to my room every three hours, showing how ill I must be, which she lined up in a row in front of the
guan
. Eventually she poured them into the chamber pot. I had also asked her to tell them I needed a long foot massage to aid my recovery so that she had a reason to spend the day with me.

In the afternoon Yan brought me some congee, the delicious rice porridge, which I loved so much. She sat back in the chair and watched me start on it. I looked up at her and felt I should say something to bring us closer.

“Do you know if this house has any gardens? I used to walk in the gardens next to my parents’ house with my grandfather. He loved flowers and trees and would tell me their names.”

Yan leant forward to speak to me, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her fists.

“I have heard the other servants talk of gardens but they say that old Master Sang built the house over most of them. There are some on the left side of the house but they are not visited much as the family likes to be inside. The outside is for peasants and servants,” she said with a smile.

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