Ian Hamilton: The wild beast of Wuhan

“ Guanxi,” she said.

Uncle sipped his tea. “A man in business in China is nothing without family and guanxi.”

“What kind of family does he have?”

“I was going to speak to you about that,” he said slowly. “As I told you, we will be staying at his house, so you will undoubtedly meet part of the family there, and at dinner. He works from home and entertains there as well.”

“I see.”

“And he has surrounded himself with his family.”

“How large is the family?”

“When I met him, he had a first wife with one daughter. She had been a teenage sweetheart, a factory worker. And he had just taken a second wife, the child of a business associate, a very smart woman who handled his money, and from what I have been told she still does. They have no children. I am told he took a third wife about eight years ago and they have two sons.”

“They live under one roof?”

“They do, on separate floors.”

“How difficult is that?”

“We will find out,” Uncle said, as the lounge P.A. announced that their flight was boarding.

There was a long, winding line at the gate, a smattering of businesspeople, but the majority of the passengers were tourists being herded by guides waving umbrellas with coloured flags attached to them. Ava wasn’t sure what the attraction was in Wuhan. She had been to China more times than she could count, but always for work. Her only trip to Wuhan had been a two-day blur of meetings in hotel lobbies and boardrooms as she tried, successfully, to convince a meat importer that the fact he had lodged a quality complaint about four containers of chicken feet didn’t mean he could avoid paying for them, especially when he had managed to sell them all. It had been one of her first assignments for Uncle.

Her memories of Wuhan were as blurred as the meetings had seemed. The city was surprisingly big — more than nine million people — and like all major Chinese cities it was awash in construction cranes. Her most vivid memory was the shroud of dirt and dust from the building sites that melded with bus fumes and industrial smog. Many of the people she saw on the streets wore masks, which she had thought was unnecessary until she went jogging one morning. When she got back to the hotel, her lungs were sore, and when she blew her nose, black mucus coated the tissue.

She and Uncle bypassed the boarding lines and went directly through the first-class entrance. Wuhan was in Hubei province, almost in the centre of eastern China and a two-hour flight from Hong Kong. As soon as they had settled into their seats Uncle pulled out a racing form and began studying the Sha Tin race card. Ava closed her eyes and napped.

When she woke, they were over a large body of water and starting to make their descent into Wuhan.

“Lake Dongting,” Uncle said. “When I was a boy, we would go there in the summer to swim and to watch the dragon-boat races. That is where dragon-boat racing began.”

She knew that Hubei meant “north of the lake” and that the name of the neighbouring province, Hunan, meant “south of the lake,” but she had never associated the names with an actual body of water.

Like virtually every city in China, Wuhan had a relatively new airport, and Tianhe International was one of the busiest in the country, serving the nine million people in Wuhan and the sixty million who lived in Hubei. It reflected the province’s central position in China’s economic life.

Ava and Uncle were met at the arrivals gate by a middle-aged man who was about the same size as Sonny. His large belly pushed out a blue Lacoste shirt to what Ava thought had to be its breaking point, and what little hair he had was worn long in the back and braided. Ava couldn’t help but notice the tattoos that covered both his bare arms and peeked out around his collarbones. He bowed to Uncle and nodded at her.

“This is Tam,” Uncle said to Ava.

Tam took their carry-on bags and walked them to a door that had police written on it. He opened it and led them through a cavernous office to another door that led them outside. A Mercedes-Benz sat at the curb. The driver, who looked as if he doubled as a bodyguard, rushed to open the car’s back door. He bowed so low that his chin almost hit his knees. “Don’t make such a fuss,” Uncle said as he slid into the back seat.

Ava sat in the back with Uncle. Tam was in the front, his body turned towards them so he could look at Uncle while he spoke.

“I have not been here since they built the new airport. How far are we from the city?” Uncle asked in Mandarin.

“About thirty kilometres, but Wong Changxing’s house is only twenty kilometres away.”

Ava’s Mandarin was not quite as good as her Cantonese. She understood the nuances of what she heard, but her ability to speak the language was more rudimentary.

“Did Wong’s people object when you told them you were coming to meet me?”

“Hmmm… they went on and on about how it shamed them.”

“What did you find out about his problem?”

“Nothing.”

“How can that be?” Although Uncle had asked the question gently, Ava saw that it stung Tam.

“We spoke to everyone we know, including some of his own people. No one can explain.”

Uncle shifted his attention to the countryside that flanked the superhighway. “I remember when there were no highways here,” he said to Ava. “Now Wuhan has more than Hong Kong, and dozens of railroads.”

Tam nodded in agreement, looking relieved that the topic of conversation had changed.

Uncle turned back to him. “Explain to Ava about Wong’s family situation. I am not sure I understand it completely myself.”

“He has three wives,” Tam began.

“We know the numbers. Explain the relationships, with him, among themselves,” Uncle said.

“The first wife is from Wuhan. She was a factory worker and they married when they were teenagers, before Wong started to succeed. She is a simple woman, not very bright, and he soon surpassed her. They have one child, a daughter, who now goes to university in Australia. The second wife, May Ling, is also from Wuhan. Her father was an important man in the Party and she went to university in Beijing. When Wong married her, May Ling began to work in the business. She has a reputation for being shrewd and tough. People say she has as much, if not more, to do with the business’s growth as he does.”

“So she is still involved?” Uncle asked.

“Side by side. He does nothing without May Ling.”

“I did not meet her when I was here.”

“If you had, you would have remembered her. She looks like a slightly older version of — ” Tam motioned his head in Ava’s direction.

“Then why the third wife?” Ava asked.

“May Ling couldn’t have children.”

“He had a child.”

“No son.”

“So he went looking for a brood mare?” Ava said.

“People say it was May Ling’s idea, that she found the girl working in Shanghai, had her tested, and brought her back here. Luckily she gave him sons.”

“Do you believe that? What woman — ”

“I believe,” Tam said, “that the third wife was just for children. It is May Ling whom he still lives with. She is the real wife.”

“All of them in the same house?” Ava asked.

“When he married May Ling, both wives had their own houses, but he found it impractical to run back and forth. So he built a house for the two of them, and then when the third wife came, he built a new one for all of them. The first wife lives on the second floor with her mother and father and some aunties. The third wife lives on the third floor with the two sons, her mother, a sister, and the amah. May Ling and Wong Changxing have the eighth floor.”