Qiu Xiaolong - Enigma of China

Two hours later, as he walked out of the Shaoxing railway station, Chen was surprised to find himself facing a large modern square thronged with people and beyond it, an impressive six-lane thoroughfare filled with noisy traffic. There was also a line of taxis waiting along the curb.

Chen’s assumptions about Shaoxing had come mainly from the writings of Lu Xun, a “revolutionary writer” endorsed by Mao and the Party authorities during the Cultural Revolution. Lu Xun’s books were the only literature he could read during those years without having to disguise them by wrapping them in the red plastic covers of Quotations from Chairman Mao . In his stories, Shaoxing was more a rustic town than a city, with villagers, boats, a market fair, farmers like Ah Q, and country kids like Runtu. But Shaoxing, like anywhere else in China, had changed dramatically.

He caught sight of Tang pushing his way through the crowd, carrying a map in one hand, looking like one of the tourists. A stoutly built man in his late forties, Tang had deeply set eyes and a square jawline, an interesting mixture of supposedly southern and northern characteristics. He was wearing a light gray jacket, a blue shirt, and jeans.

Instead of asking any questions, Tang simply shook hands with Chen and handed over the map of Shaoxing. “Sorry, I can’t park here. It’s just across the street. I’ll be back to pick you up in one minute.”

Chen watched him as he pulled up in a shiny black Buick. It wasn’t a bureau car, as Tang had promised not to tell his colleagues.

After Chen got into the car, Tang handed him a large manila envelope.

“Zhou’s visits here weren’t about official business. He contacted only some of his relatives and friends. I put together a list of them-names, addresses, and numbers. That’s about all I could come up with on such short notice.”

“You’ve done an extraordinary job. So where are we going?”

“His cousin’s place. They saw each other last year.”

The car was already turning into a quiet residential area, with narrower streets and shabbier lanes, where some of the old houses were in disrepair.

“I’ve also included some information about his counterparts in Shaoxing,” Tang said with an apologetic smile. “But I have a meeting I have to attend.”

“Don’t worry about me. You’ve already done so much.”

“When the meeting is over, I’ll see what else I can dig up, and I’ll contact you as soon as I have anything. In the meantime, after going through this list, you might as well do some sightseeing here, or participate in the festival if you prefer. By the way, where is the festival?”

“Lu Xun’s old home.”

“A good choice.”

“A politically correct choice. But I may go to Lanting Park instead.”

“As you like, but let me buy you a Shaoxing dinner at the end of the day. It’s nothing fancy when compared to the food of Shanghai, but I guarantee the flavor is authentic.”

“Thank you, I’d like that. Did you find any property listed under Zhou’s name here?”

“No, but I’ll check into that too.”

The car pulled up near an old apartment complex, which looked pretty much the same as those built in the late seventies in Shanghai. Most of them were four-story concrete buildings that had become discolored with the passage of time. Chen guessed that they weren’t too far from the center of the city.

“Here we are, Zhou’s cousin’s home. Her name is Mingxia.”

“Thanks, Tang. Call me if you learn anything new.”

“I’ll do that,” Tang said, and then pulled away.

Chen walked over to a relatively new building and knocked on a door decorated with a red paper-cut character for happiness that was posted upside down in accordance with the superstition, as “upside down” is pronounced in Chinese exactly the same as “arrival.”

The woman who answered the door was plump, in her midfifties with streaks of gray in her hair, deep lines on her forehead, and a single shining gold tooth. She was dressed in a baggy, dark blue short-sleeve blouse and pants.

“Are you Mingxia?”

After examining the ID he held out, she nodded and let Chen in without saying another word. It was a one-room efficiency apartment packed with old furniture and other mysterious stuff. She pulled over a shaky rattan chair, from which she removed a pile of old magazines, and motioned for him to sit.

Chen wasted no time in explaining the purpose of his visit.

“Zhou left Shaoxing when he was still a kid,” she said. “For years, he didn’t come back to visit. At least, not that I was aware of. But he finally did return last year and treated us to a meal at a hotel restaurant, a five-star one. Then he did it again, a couple of months later, in a new restaurant named after a character in a Lu Xun story.”

“Did he tell you why he came back?”

“No, not exactly. I assumed that, as in the old proverb, it’s important for a successful man to return to his old home wrapped in glory. A generous treat for us folks who live here is naturally a part of that.”

“Do you remember anything unusual that he said or did during his visits?”

“No, I spoke only two or three words to him each time. We were seated at a big banquet table, more than ten of us, each of us thanking and toasting him across the table. I wondered whether he even noticed me.”

“But he must have talked to the others. For instance, about family back in Shanghai or his work?”

“He mentioned that the housing prices were still quite cheap here. I remember because we all took him as someone with reliable inside information. A free-standing villa in the best location here in Shaoxing would cost less than one million yuan, and he told us that it’s a steal.”

“So he encouraged you to buy?”

“A bargain or not, it’s still way beyond me. He mentioned one particular high-end subdivision, I think.”

“Was he going to buy something for himself?”

“No, he didn’t say anything about it.”

“What’s the name of the subdivision?”

“It’s near East Lake, but I can’t recall the name.”

“Was there anything else, Mingxia?”

“Well, I don’t know. He didn’t come back with his family. Instead, there was a secretary sitting with him, waiting on him. She deboned the Dong Lake fish for him during one of the banquets. But then that’s not that unusual for someone in his position, is it?”

“You mean having a little secretary?”

“I couldn’t tell. But she wasn’t that little, and not that young. Much younger than Zhou, of course.”

After talking for another forty-five minutes, Chen took his leave, practically empty-handed. All he’d learned was that Zhou had traveled with Fang, which, given their relationship, probably didn’t mean anything.

He began wondering if it was worthwhile to keep pursuing this angle.

Next, he decided to visit Chang Lihua, the director of the Shaoxing Housing Development.

Chang appeared genuinely surprised by Chen’s unannounced visit.

“You should have told us earlier about your visit, Chief Inspector Chen.”

“I haven’t told anybody about my visit. There’s no point beating around the bush with you, Director Chang. You must have heard what was going on with Zhou. It’s a very complicated and sensitive case. The less people know about it, the better. Your help would be most valuable to us.”

“Thank you for telling me this,” Chang said, producing a pack of cigarettes. He was about to offer one to Chen, when his hand jerked back as if he’d been bitten by a poisonous snake.

They were Panda. Since they had once been made exclusively for Comrade Deng Xiaoping in the Forbidden City, the memories of its imperial uniqueness lingered. That was what made them so expensive.