Mingmei Yip - The Nine Fold Heaven

Of course, these are no more than the conjectures of a silly gossip columnist. Maybe the general is, as you read this, perched on a mountaintop, meditating to calm his troubled mind, and will be back in Shanghai, unscathed and filled with the refreshing mountain energy. Who knows?

Things happen. But they can also not happen.

My dear readers, alive or dead, it’s your bet, so place it now!

After I read the disquieting article, my heart galloped like a wild horse. I feared for Edward, but I was also relieved that Rainbow actually kept her promise not to reveal my relationship with the general in her column. I knew it was unlikely that Edward and I would ever see each other again. Whoever had taken him wanted him out of the way. And for myself, there was no assurance that Rainbow would not mention me in her next column. As she put it, things happen—or not happen, which was my hope.

A few days later, when I called Emily, someone at the consulate said she was gone but had left another number—an overseas one—if I wanted to reach her.

Something was very wrong.

I immediately took a rickshaw to the closest post office so I could place the call. A couple of minutes later, the operator handed me the phone.

Emily’s voice sounded so far and yet so close—like a dead person who’s here and not here at the same time.

She said, “Miss Chen, I’m so glad that you called. General Miller, Henry, and I flew on the China Clipper and are back in San Francisco.”

I knew that airplanes could go all the way to America in only a few days but was still surprised that she could be so far away so quickly. I was both relieved and sad that Edward had left China, but I knew that was the only safe option for him.

“But you must not tell anyone about this.”

“Trust me, Emily, I can keep a secret.”

She sighed. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now that we’re back here to where we belong.” She paused to inhale deeply, then said, “The kidnappers were gangsters!”

“Oh, heaven!” I exclaimed, though this was no surprise.

“They bargained with the Americans to recall General Miller in exchange for not harming him.”

“And the general agreed?”

“We don’t believe they would dare to harm General Miller, but we can’t take a chance either.”

“I’m so sorry to hear this, Emily. Can I talk to him—”

I was cut off by the governess. “General Miller asked me to tell you how sorry he is that things turned out this way. His new assignment is in Egypt, so he won’t be back to Shanghai. I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Emily, but I understand.”

I was sorry, of course, but I thought that it solved one problem for me—how to get rid of Edward when I found Jinying.

But my relief was short-lived. Despite myself, I could not stop the image of Edward from making my mind revolve as memories of our brief affair came and went like a lantern on a merry-go-round.

The following days, I lost my appetite and could hardly sleep. Maybe this was my fate: That I had to suffer the loss of all the men who truly loved me. However, I felt some comfort that at least Edward had not been tortured and killed as I’d feared. But I was sadder than I’d expected to realize that we’d never see each other again in this life.

Then I thought of Rainbow Chang. Now that the ambassador was out of Shanghai, she needn’t worry that anyone would try to clean up the city’s gambling business. I decided to call her to tell her that Edward was gone and also see if she had any more useful information.

But what the gossip columnist said surprised me. “Ha-ha! Camilla, sorry, but you’re wrong. I heard something very different.”

“What is it?” Of course I didn’t tell her that I’d got my news directly from Miller’s governess.

Rainbow’s seductive alto voice went on. “The ambassador did go back to America…” She paused, then lowered her voice. “But as a corpse.”

“What?! Where did you hear this?”

“Sorry, I can’t tell you. Ha-ha!” She laughed again. “Everyone knows my pen can determine their fate, so they tell me anything I want.”

Even if it’s not true. If it’s bad, you believe it. And you make up the rest, I thought, but didn’t dare to say.

“How did he…?” The word die just refused to step out from my mouth.

“The gangs did not plan to kill him, just a warning to the Americans that they better not mess with the Chinese. They know that if Miller were to succeed with gambling, he’d go after other businesses, too—whores, smuggling, loans… anything he can stick his big, itchy nose in.

“After they snatched him, the foreign ghost struggled so hard and screamed so loud that one of the gangs lost his temper and strangled him. Then they decided to quickly bury him under the Maple Bridge where their car was passing.

“Then, after the gangsters threw the last shovelful down the freshly dug hole, they heard muffled sounds from below. They turned and ran, terrified it was the foreign ghost’s ghost—funny, isn’t it? But then one of the gangsters asked, what if the general was still alive? What if he could dig his way out?

“However, no one dared to shovel away the mud, so finally one of them fired his gun into the grave to make sure that what they had buried had really become a ghost….”

I pressed, my voice urgent. “Then what happened?! Did Miller…”

She went on excitedly. “Just then a bright light flashed across the dark sky.” Rainbow paused, for suspense, I supposed. “You know what that means?”

“No, Rainbow, just tell me.”

“When a great, virtuous person, like Buddha or Confucius, appears in the world, his birth and death are announced by unusual signs in the sky. So now the gangsters realized that the general was someone they shouldn’t have killed. They fear his ghost will come back to exact his bloody revenge. You know, like General Guan, by chopping them in half. Ha, ha, ha!”

When she finished enjoying her own imaginary revenge, I asked, “Rainbow, did you just make this all up?”

“Of course not.”

“Then how come you didn’t write it in your column?”

“Have you noticed that most newspapers are mum and vague about this? So why should I? Besides, I profit from his death anyway.”

“An ambassador’s death is big news. Why wasn’t it in the newspapers?”

“Let me tell you, Camilla, because none of the other foreigners are sorry to be rid of Edward Miller.”

“But why?”

“Because of him, they stopped getting ‘lucky money’ from the Chinese, that’s why. So even his close colleagues are happy that he went back home, I mean his eternal home.”

I was tempted to call Emily again to find out if Edward was alive but decided to leave the matter alone. I could not risk becoming further entangled. Emily was honest and Rainbow was a liar. But just in case it was Rainbow who was telling the truth, I decided to burn offerings and say a prayer for Edward, wherever he was, this world or the next.

Either way, I knew my affair with him was over and there was no possibility that we would see each other again. Worse, here in the city, the dangers that I faced had only increased. If the gangsters could send an ambassador to heaven, they sure could send a singer to hell. I was surprised that I had not been found by the gangs or the police. Of course, it could be that besides Rainbow Chang, no one knew I was back. Except that she could tip them off at any moment.

Though I had served Big Brother Wang, I was well aware that a spy is like a yehu, a “chamber pot”: When the master needs to pee, it is needed right away; but when he doesn’t, the pot is but a stinking eyesore. So I, once the most talented and beautiful singer, after I’d served my purpose, was but a stinking chamber pot! Or, as the Chinese say, “After the rabbits are caught, the hounds are cooked.”