Mingmei Yip - The Nine Fold Heaven

“It is. I am sure you wouldn’t be interested. Anyway, I can’t tell you.”

I nodded. “Edward—”

I really didn’t know where to start to warn him about his danger with the gangs without giving myself away. So instead, I asked, “Do you fear another bombing?”

He nodded.

I went on. “I hear that the gangs… I just wish this was not their doing…” I hoped my warning was subtle yet effective.

“Jasmine, I’m not going to be intimidated.”

Unlike me, he had no idea about the power of Shanghai’s triads.

“Then how do you plan to deal with them?”

“Jasmine, you know I can’t tell you that. I haven’t seen you for a while, so let’s not talk about this and have something to drink.”

He poured each of us a glass of white wine, took a meditative sip, then spoke again. “Next Saturday, I am having a reception to entertain both foreign and Chinese guests. This is to soothe the tension after the bombing. I would like you to come and sing again. I’m sure your wonderful voice would put everyone at ease.”

I hesitated. I couldn’t do this again, not when Chinese were being invited. Someone was bound to realize my true identity. It was bad enough that Rainbow had. But she would keep my secret—until it was to her benefit to let it out.

I had to make up an excuse, so I said, “My voice. It’s not doing very well lately. I really need to rest. I’m afraid I can’t sing for a while.”

“That’s really too bad. Anything I can do? If you need a doctor, I know someone to recommend.”

“Edward, that’s not the problem…” I couldn’t believe that I’d just blurted out something stupid like this. But unfortunately I couldn’t take my words back.

“What’s wrong, Jasmine? Please tell me.”

And now I couldn’t say, “No, it’s nothing.” So I said, “Edward, I heard rumors that some criminals are not happy with you and the bombing was a warning.”

His bushy brows knitted. “Where did you hear this from?”

Fortunately, I came up with a simple explanation. “Some Chinese gossip newspapers you’ll never read.”

“Which one?”

Suddenly I remembered since he spoke Chinese fluently, he must be able to read it also.

“Can’t remember, I read it a while ago.”

“What did they say?” He looked anxious.

“I’m sorry, I should have saved it for you. It was something about the gambling houses. Anyway, there’s a lot of them angry at you because you’re meddling in their affairs.”

“Yes, because I don’t take bribes and I intend to clean things up!”

“Edward… do you really think you can change China?”

His face flushed and his voice turned angry. “Not all of China, we’re starting here in the foreign concessions.”

“Whatever you call it. But can you fight five thousand years of history?” Or bribery, I might have added.

His hand struck the table, causing a small earthquake that set Emily’s tea cups and saucers into a little nervous tango.

“That’s the problem. No one tries.”

Of course, he was right. We Chinese just accept the way things are. We follow the old proverb, “Sweep the snow from our own door and ignore the frost on other people’s roofs.”

He did not realize that no one would stand up for him.

“Edward, but you’re all alone….”

“I know. My colleagues want me to let things be. But if I…” His voice trailed off.

A brave man. But, of course, like everyone, he feared for his life.

I touched his face. “Edward…” But I didn’t know what more to say.

He took my hand and kissed it. “Jasmine, you are my comfort. My wife left me and I also fear for my son. I am not sure if I can win this war against the gangs. So if anything bad happens to me…”

“Edward, can’t you just leave everything behind and go back to—”

“No, it’s a matter of honor.”

“But that’s nothing to do with honor, it’s just… plain foolish.”

His face flushed as he raised his voice. “Jasmine, you don’t understand !”

“What don’t I understand?”

“I have never backed down from a challenge.”

“What about running away?” I was, in fact, asking this question for myself. I’d run away, but I had come back. And I still had no idea how it would end for me.

“Edward, maybe you’re right. But still I don’t want you to be…” I couldn’t say the word killed.

He pulled me to him and kissed me. “I won’t, Jasmine, I’ll be very careful.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I remained silent. He tilted my head so we were looking into each other’s eyes. In my fear his eyes seemed to blur, as if he were looking at me from another world—a ghostly one.

Edward Miller seemed to be the sort of man who deemed honor the most important thing in life. I only hoped that his honor did not end up costing him his life. But there was little I could do if he was determined to persist in his vain hope of ending corruption. I’d hoped he could be my protector, but ironically, his situation now seemed even more dangerous than mine.

A few weeks later, when I called, Emily said her boss would like me to go to an opera with him. This presented a dilemma. If I dressed as a woman, I’d risk being recognized as Camilla the Heavenly Songbird. But with Miller, I certainly could not show up dressed as a man. So I suggested I’d much rather see a movie instead if her boss wouldn’t object. At least I’d be in the dark most of the time and the chance of being recognized would be much less.

So the following Monday, Edward picked me up at the street corner close to where I’d said I lived and drove us to the Cathay theater in the intersection between Huaihai Road and Maoming Road, “Sea of Huai and Prosperous Fame.”

Edward took one of his hands from the wheel to cover mine. “Jasmine, I’m so happy that you suggested to see a movie instead. I just never thought of that for a change. And the Art Deco Cathay theater, it was built by the famous Hungarian architect, C. H. Gonda, you know about him?”

I had never heard of this architect, so I didn’t respond, only put up a sweet smile.

He went on. “Gonda also designed the Bank of Communications Office and the Capitol Cinema—”

I had no interest in this sort of thing, nor did I care about Art Deco. So I interrupted. “Edward, I suddenly have stomach cramps, can you stop for a minute so I can use the bathroom?”

“Of course.” He turned to cast me a concerned look. “If you are not feeling well, we can go back to my place now.”

“I’m fine. Just need to use the bathroom.”

So Edward pulled up the car next to the first public restroom we saw. Of course, I didn’t have cramps and felt perfectly fine. I only wanted to delay until after the movie started so it would be dark when we entered the theater. Besides, I studied myself in the mirror to reassure myself that with short hair and minimal makeup, I looked very different from my former self.

When Edward and I finally entered the theater, the previews had already started and no one paid us any attention in the dark. People were busy chewing on peanuts or chicken bones, drinking tea, and commenting on the happenings on screen, laughing or cursing.

The movie was Shanghai Express, starring Marlene Dietrich and the Chinese actress Anna May Wong. It was an exciting story in which a prostitute saves the life of a doctor, her former lover, on a train after he had been taken hostage by a warlord. Other excitement as the train sped from Peking toward Shanghai included a kidnapping and soldiers searching for rebel spies.

The movie served up intense condiments of emotions in me. The two actresses played women who, like me, must “live by their wits,” because they had no one to fall back on. I admired these fictional women who pretended to have the kind of life I really did have.