Mingmei Yip - The Nine Fold Heaven

But this was not the time for me to reveal that I knew he had murdered my parents. I had plans for him, when the right time came, but not now.

“You were a worthless orphan in a worthless orphanage before I found you and made you into the most famous singer in Shanghai, spoiling you with all kinds of luxuries. You already forget about that?”

“Yes, but only to make me sleep with your enemy so you could kill him.”

“Camilla, you think you’re smart, but it’s only because of me. Besides, I’ve let you live, and your stupid fucking man, and his motherfucking father too.”

But only because so far he hadn’t succeeded in killing us.

He chuckled. “So now you’re in love! Ha, ha, ha! The one thing I told you never to do because it could get you killed. You’re a total loser!”

I said sarcastically, “Ha, Big Brother Wang, have you never realized that if I am a loser, so are you, because you taught me?”

Never before could I have dared to disagree with my boss, let alone talk back and throw out insults. I’d forced myself to be like a parrot—repeating his orders.

He ignored my sarcasm. “Ha, heaven is now on my side, eh? Because you failed to kill Lung, now if you want him back, you have to give me back all the money.”

Then his anger flared and his voice rose up like a plane taking off. “All right, enough of this nonsense, Camilla. Where is the seal you stole from Lung’s safe?”

Did he really imagine I would be so stupid as to give him Lung’s seal? That little lump of rock was my lifeline, my pension, my path to turn my impossible dreams into possible ones.

Obviously, Wang had figured out my deception; I had given him the papers but not the chop to verify he was the account holder. I smiled to myself when I imagined his expression when he had gone to the bank and been refused the money. Of course, what infuriated him was not so much the loss of the money as the loss of face. He still got a fortune in gold bars, because when I had opened Lung’s safe I had taken mainly what was on paper—money and bank statements. I would have taken the gold, too, but I could only carry a few and so had to leave the rest. Wang just couldn’t bear the fact that he couldn’t have everything he’d been scheming for years to steal.

I was very tempted to say that I didn’t have the seal just to spite him; but then if he did have Lung, he’d go ahead and kill him.

So I said, “I have the seal in a safe place.”

“Damn you, you cunning little cunt! All right, tell Lung’s son if he wants his father back, you give me the seal and I’ll hand over your worthless man’s even more worthless father!”

I put on a little girl’s voice. “But, Big Brother Wang, how can I trust you again after our previous meeting?”

“Ha! But you don’t have a choice!”

Maybe. I could let Lung die without shedding any tears. But then Jinying would never forgive me and I might lose him. I definitely didn’t want my little Jinjin to grow up fatherless. Or to be alone myself.

So I pretended to agree. “Then we can meet at your upcoming sixtieth birthday party. You must be having a huge celebration with lots of politicians, businessmen, and celebrities. So also invite me and Jinying—”

“Hmm… Camilla, you still remember my birthday?”

“Of course, Big Brother Wang, after all you have done for me!”

This was pretty obvious flattery, but I knew vanity was his greatest weakness.

I went on. “You’ll have Master Lung sit at your table with his back to the room. Just get him dark glasses and a fake beard. If anyone asks, tell them he’s your uncle from the country or something. The young master and I will come up to your table. If we verify it is Lung, I’ll give you the seal and he comes with us. How’s that?”

I was sure Wang did not want us at his birthday party, but he wanted the seal more. So he agreed.

“All right, give me your address so I can send you an invitation.”

I laughed. “You didn’t train me to be stupid! Just tell me the time and place and we’ll see you there.”

A few days before the banquet, I took out a big chunk of my money—or Master Lung’s or Big Brother Wang’s, depending on whom you asked—to buy a Mercedes, a bulletproof one, such being a basic necessity for Shanghai’s wealthy. This would be my present to Wang for his big sixtieth birthday party.

Sixty is the most important birthday for Chinese because we reckon dates in sixty-year cycles. In the old days, few lived that long. That’s why anyone still alive at sixty will have a lavish celebration, if they can afford it. After all, what chance is there of making it through a second sixty-year cycle?

I again called Wang to let him know about the generous gift.

His murderer’s voice assaulted my eardrum. “Why so generous suddenly, eh?!”

Before I could respond, he added, “Huh! Don’t even think about pulling any dirty tricks! I can’t kill anyone during my birthday, but there are many days after that!”

I smiled into the receiver. “Big Brother Wang, this is your sixtieth birthday, a momentous occasion. After all you have done for me, how could I not give you an expensive gift appropriate for your number one status? Since you rebuked me for being ungrateful during our previous phone call, I decided I should show my appreciation with an extravagant gift. I also don’t want to get killed on your birthday, or any other day for that matter.”

Naturally, Wang would suspect that I’d put a bomb or something else deadly inside the vehicle. So I told him that I would drive the car to the restaurant on his birthday, then park right outside so his men could search the vehicle.

Finally, I concluded my talk by saying something I knew would infuriate him. “Big Brother Wang, don’t forget that now I’m flush with money from Lung’s safe. The cost of the car is just like a grain of sand on the desert. Ha! Ha! Ha!”

When he didn’t respond to this I added, “Big Brother Wang, when I go to your birthday party, my name will be Jasmine Chen, not Camilla.” This time, before he had a chance to curse me, I hung up with a loud bang.

Wang’s birthday came on a chilly, rainy Saturday evening. Jinying dressed in a Chinese gown, while I, hoping not to be recognized as Shanghai’s Heavenly Songbird, wore a Western-style evening dress, modest makeup, and a deep brown wig with bangs.

This was as different as I could come up with from my previous trademark look of a lavishly embroidered cheongsam, theatrical makeup, and false eyelashes, topped by wavy, long black hair swept to the right. The short sleeves of the cheongsam left space for multiple bracelets up past my elbows—translucent jade and gold sprinkled with diamonds. On my right ring finger I placed a huge cat’s eye stone set inside a ferocious gold tiger’s face striped with black enamel.

I hoped that my relatively plain look would keep anyone from recognizing me. I would have disguised as a man except that Jinying and I had to be a couple. Also, if I had to charm my way past a muscle-bound, husky bodyguard, I hoped that, despite my plain getup, I could draw upon my feminine power. I’d already told Wang over the phone that Jinying and I would sit at his table with his relatives: wives, sons, daughters-in-law, nephews, more wives, and so on. Wang had twelve grown children and countless grandchildren, so I hoped we’d just merge in and his guests wouldn’t pay us any notice. I doubted anyone knew all of Wang’s relations, least of all Wang himself.

With Jinying driving, we set out for the fancy new restaurant Wang had chosen for this party, perhaps because of its auspicious name—Good Luck Garden. I hoped that tonight the good luck would be mine instead of his. The restaurant had a curved façade, which seemed to be an imitation of the front of the Bright Moon Nightclub where I’d performed, bringing back memories of when I’d been featured at this most prestigious of Shanghai nightclubs as the glamorous Heavenly Songbird. There that I’d met Jinying and first danced with him on the nightclub’s famous glass floor. It was also there that I’d performed with Shadow the “two shows of the century.” Now, partly disguised in my plain outfit, I could not but feel deep regret that those days would never return.