Qiu Xiaolong - Shanghai Redemption

At the end of his e-mail, he added a personal touch, talking about his father’s grave in Suzhou being in bad repair and claiming that his mother had requested that he personally oversee its renovation.

“She’s old, in frail health, and her days may be limited. I’m not in a position to say no to her. The renovation of my father’s grave will take just about a week. While there, I can also continue reading up for the new position. The moment the project is completed, I will start working with unlimited concentration for our Party, for years to come.”

This note sounded like an echo from Chenqing Biao by Li Mi, a Jin dynasty scholar-official in the third century. Li Mi compared his grandmother to the evening sun declining against the western hills; “ The days I can serve my old grandmother are short, and the days I can serve your majesty are long, long indeed .”

He wondered whether the superior cadre reading it would catch the reference. Still, it sound credible, for Chen was known to be a filial son, a pose in line with his bookish character. To some, it might also look like a feeble protest about his new position: Chen could easily be doing nothing more than dragging his feet, delaying the onset of his new role.

To do nothing, it says in the Taoist classic Dao De Jing , makes it possible for one to do everything. Chen wanted to make his enemy believe that he was doing nothing, thereby allowing him to do whatever was necessary while they weren’t watching.

He stepped outside again, this time going over to a newsstand several blocks away. He was sure no one recognized him there. He asked for several SIM cards. Theoretically, in accordance with government regulations, he should have shown ID to buy SIM cards. Those SIM cards would then be registered under his name, but newsstands usually didn’t bother to check ID. Sure enough, the young girl there sold them to him without any question.

He started to put a new SIM card into his cell phone, but he had second thoughts. He walked down another block and went into a phone store. There he chose a couple of inexpensive cell phones. He put the new SIM card into one of them-this would be his special phone, designated for confidential calls, to avoid any possibility of his calls being tapped or traced. It would also be easier. This way he wouldn’t have to change the SIM card frequently.

As for the other phone and cards, he kept them to use on special occasions, or perhaps to give to others.

He used the special phone to dial Mr. Gu, a successful and well-connected businessman, who had proclaimed himself to be a staunch friend of Chen’s ever since they had worked together back in the early days of Gu’s New World project. Gu might be able to tell him something about Rong.

Gu picked up at the first ring and, on hearing Chen’s voice, said, “Oh, you. I’ll call you back in one minute.”

Was Gu calling back on a special phone? The businessman was a cautious one and might have heard something about Chen. The phone rang almost immediately.

“You’re calling from a new phone? I recognized your voice, if not the number,” Gu said. He had indeed called back from another phone, one with a different number. “Oh, I got the invitation to the book party at the Heavenly World yesterday, but I had a business meeting. Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry about missing it.”

Chen told Gu what had happened at the Heavenly World, including the party sponsored by Rong and the raid on the nightclub. He didn’t say anything about the possibility that he himself was the target of the raid.

“How could that be possible?” Gu exclaimed. “Shen is connected to someone at the very top. Everyone knows that.”

The surprise in his voice sounded genuine.

“Then why?”

“Let me make a couple of phone calls and see what I can find out about Rong. I’ve met him before, but I don’t know much.” Gu then added deliberately, “I don’t get involved in politics, Chen, but I’ve heard some whispered words.”

“Really!”

“You know how businesspeople are always gossiping about one thing or another.” Gu abruptly changed the subject: “I have a new vacation center in Kunshan near Suzhou. It’s finished but not open for business yet. Why not go there and stay as my special guest? Enjoy a vacation. It’s time for you to take a break from your work-a break in absolute privacy.”

“Absolute privacy?”

“Well, some of the successful elite nowadays work hard to maintain a low profile. For them, staying at a five-star hotel is no longer a good idea, what with cell phone calls being monitored and surveillance cameras everywhere. So I had a vacation center built for my special guests. Each of them will have a whole floor to themselves, and from the garage, they can go directly to their designated floor. They won’t have to worry about being seen by others, and they enjoy all the services of the vacation center in complete privacy. You can stay there as long as you like, and you can drive back to Shanghai in less than an hour.”

Gu was making the offer in spite of the “whispered words.” It was a practical suggestion, too, for Chen to lie low. Should he request additional leave? Out of sight, out of mind-and how things might change in two or three months, no one could tell. The emphasis on privacy and service, however, reminded Chen of the scene at the Heavenly World.

“I’ll think about it, Gu. It’s so thoughtful of you, I appreciate your offer,” Chen said. “And your business has been expanding beyond Shanghai. Congratulations!”

“You don’t have to say that to me. It’s just that I’ve been drinking wine today, and I’m a little drunk. Who cares about the flood coming to drown the world when I’m no longer here.”

That didn’t sound like Gu. Chen waited for him to go on.

“Surely you remember Lu Xun’s prediction. Today’s society is like a sinking ship at night, with most of the passengers in a deep sleep. It’s probably not a bad idea for them to sink into another deep sleep, so to speak. There’s no point in trying to wake them up. It would only add to their suffering if they were to become aware of the inevitable end. At the same time, however, the few who have profited are awake and are jumping ship.”

“Imagine you saying that to me, Mr. Gu! You, the chairman of the New World Group.”

“Well, I’m reading a book about Jiang Cun, a Qing dynasty salt merchant, who at the peak of his success said, ‘You may have mountains of silver or mountains of gold, but overnight the emperor can take it all away without even condescending to say “I owe you.”’ That was China then, and that is China today.

“So I’m thinking of emigrating. I’ll have my wife and daughter go to the United States first. Then, if worse comes to worst, at least they’ll be safe and secure somewhere else.”

Chen didn’t respond.

“You have a girlfriend in the United States,” Gu went on thoughtfully. “And you once talked to me about furthering your studies there.”

“Yes?”

“I’m planning to set up an office in New York. What about serving as the office head there? It’s condescending of me to make such a suggestion, I know, but it’s something for you to think about.”

“I will think about it, Gu. I really appreciate your suggestion.”

Afterward, Chen felt increasingly uneasy about what Gu had said. The well-connected businessman hadn’t tried to distance himself from the ex-chief inspector. But his suggesting instead a vacation-and then an overseas job-was a subtle warning about the terrible mess Chen had landed himself in.

Chen looked at his watch. It wasn’t noon yet. He swallowed another two aspirin, still without eating anything. Then he set out again.