Mingmei Yip - The Nine Fold Heaven

How could I turn down this request from the little girl who, like me, might be saved by her talent for singing? What other chance would she have if I did not encourage her? So I’d do her this one favor.

“All right.”

So I told her how to sink her qi to her dantian, then bring it back up to her chest, throat, even her head. How I had used the rising sun and its reflection on the river to inspire my singing.

In the past, after I’d finished singing at Bright Moon Nightclub, I would take a nap, then walk to the Bund and sing to the sun as it rose, then to its reflection on the Huangpu River. This way my voice would absorb the powerful yang energy from the rising sun and the yin energy from the softly flowing river. Together, the yang and yin would expand my range up to heaven and down to the sea bottom. So that when I reached the highest register, instead of cracking, my voice would be as soothing as the morning sun. And when it reached the lowest register, it wouldn’t disappear, but would be as deep and fathomless as the ocean.

This was a secret no one knew about and if they did, didn’t care, because most nightclub singers’ goal is not to improve their arts, but to get rich and famous as quickly and easily as possible. Or even better, get a rich and famous husband. That’s why they don’t bother to practice much.

After I demonstrated my special method to the little girl, her answer surprised me.

“But I can’t do this.”

“Have you ever been to the Huangpu River to watch the rising sun? Or”—I pointed to the sky seen through the thin foliage and crisscrossing branches—“can you feel the sun’s warmth?”

Her answer was, “I’ve been to the river but couldn’t see the sun.”

“How come?”

“Because I can’t… see things. I am blind.”

Of course. Somehow I’d not been thinking about this, did not want to admit to myself how helpless she really was. She seemed to have eyes like the rest of us, except that they were semi-hidden underneath her thick glasses. Though I’d seen her bump around, it was all too sad for me to think about.

“I’m so sorry, my little friend—”

“That’s why I am here. My parents are dead. My whole family was in a bus accident.” She paused to inhale deeply, then said, “And my glasses broke and stuck in my eyes.”

“How terrible… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

I was amazed to hear her say this.

“How?”

“I sing a lot better since I couldn’t see. I listen to Camilla’s singing whenever I can. I want to be like her.”

I almost blurted out, “No, don’t try to be her! Her life is harder than you can imagine!” But I stopped myself just in time.

“Big Sister, tell me your name and why are you here?”

“Just call me Big Sister, Peiling. Be a good girl now because I have to go.”

“Please stay, Miss Camilla.”

Could this child be clairvoyant? Or maybe she lied that she was blind and could actually see me?!

“No, I’m not Camilla. Like you, I’m her fan and I try to sing like her.”

She didn’t respond, just stared at me through her thick glasses with her near-sightless eyes.

Fearing that she’d insist that I was Camilla, a truth I had to vehemently deny, I hugged her frail little body. “Peiling, I have to go.”

“Promise you’ll come back to visit.”

“I’ll try,” I said, while having no intention to do so. Another trip here would make it all the more likely that my identity would be discovered.

“Big Sister…” Suddenly, she changed the subject. “I’m not that lonely here because I have Baobao to play with. We like each other so much we play together all the time.”

Many Chinese like to call their child Bao—meaning “treasure”—then they double it to Baobao for double treasure. This piqued my curiosity, because no one was treated like a treasure here.

“Who’s Baobao? Why are you not with him?”

“Please wait. I’ll go get him right away.”

Before I could stop her, she hurriedly left, then soon returned with a sleeping baby in her arms.

I asked tentatively, “Is this… your baby?”

She smiled. “Oh, no. I just love to take care of Baobao. He’s so cute and such a good baby.”

“You mean no one takes care of him here except you?”

She nodded. “One time I heard a baby crying for a long time and no one did anything. So I followed the sound to his crib, picked him up, and rocked him. Then I gave him water with some sugar I had been saving, and put it in his mouth. He looked very happy, waving his little arms and legs. From then on he’s been a very good baby when I hold him, but he cries when others try to pick him up. So Director Chen assigned me to care for him. The staff here are happy that I help them do their job—”

I interrupted. “But, Peiling, you’re… blind, so how can you…”

“Big Sister, blind people have to be much more careful than those who can see. Because we listen, really listen. Anyway, I really love Baobao and I think he loves me too. Even though he’s been here only a few weeks.”

I was not really listening but thinking of my own baby, Jinjin. Because Jinjin would be the same age and I imagined he was as nice looking as Baobao. Baobao had Peiling to take care of him and keep him company, but what about my Jinjin? Wherever he was, did he have anyone to play with him and love him?

“Peiling, what’s Baobao’s last name?”

“I don’t know. Everyone just calls him Baobao,” Peiling said, her expression turning sad. “The staff told me that I can’t take care of him anymore once Baobao starts to walk.”

“But why not?”

“Because I’m blind, no matter how careful I am with him, I can’t watch him and he’ll get into trouble.”

I cast the baby another look. “All right, Peiling, have a good time with Baobao, I really need to go.”

Peiling lifted the baby’s hand and waved. “Baobao, say good-bye to Big Sister and ask her to come back.”

Then she threw me a startling question. “Big Sister, can you take me with you?”

“But why do you want to come with me?”

“Because then we could sing together to the rising sun by the Huangpu River and be happy.”

I laughed out loud. “Then what about your Baobao, I thought you and him are inseparable?”

“Of course I’ll take him with me too.”

An impossible dream, I thought, but kept it to myself.

What she said next startled me. “So we could be a happy family.”

“But what about if I already have one?”

“No, you don’t.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you don’t think about Baobao starting to walk soon.”

For the next few days, thinking about Peiling at the Compassionate Grace Orphanage left me off balance. It was creepy that a child so young could sing my songs, especially someone who, like me, was abandoned to an orphanage. I kept remembering how it had felt to hug her little body and see her pick up Baobao. It was almost as if she were my reincarnation, except that I was alive, at least for the moment.

Then I thought of Baobao. I knew that orphanages are so understaffed and underfunded that babies were left lying in cribs for days without being touched. So this Baobao was a lucky little guy to have someone paying him personal attention.

Despite now being able to afford beautiful clothes, expensive jewelry, and meals at any expensive restaurant, suddenly I felt as impoverished as the orphans.

That evening, my baby, Jinjin, again entered my dream.

He was running toward me wearing a red stomach cover which made him look unbearably cute. Before I had chance to say a word, he was already talking.