Annie Wang - The People’s Republic of Desire

But the physical and mental pain have not weakened Lulu's love for Ximu at all. On the contrary, she worships him without complaint or regret. No wonder some male returnees feel like kids in a candy store when they return to China. All of a sudden, they find they are as hot as Apollo!

While I was still studying in the States, Lulu e-mailed me, begging for help. At that time, Lulu had discovered that Ximu was living in Beijing with a Japanese woman who had grown up in China. Ximu said he was just that kind of guy. He needed different women: French, American, Japanese, Chinese – their different cultures stimulated him. He wasn't a one-woman man. Lulu could either accept him or leave him. Lulu was deeply hurt.

I don't understand why Ximu, who claims to be so French, always got Lulu pregnant. Why doesn't he wear a condom? Lulu says Ximu says that love must know no barriers, and they must give of each other fully.

I think Ximu is full of shit. But Lulu says, "Well, I thought every girl in love has had abortions, at least in China!" I almost faint – how can my fashionable friend Lulu be so out of touch with the world?

YAOMOHUA: To demonize.

SONGGAO XIE: Platform shoes. Popular among young women in Japan, Korea, and China, where women especially want to look taller. The shoes cause accidents and broken ankles because of their fantastic but impractical platform.

XINGBAKE: Starbucks, considered one of the most "in" places for urban youth. Quite the opposite of its status in the States, where it is considered a somewhat soulless and uninteresting corporate creation.

HULI JING: The fox spirit comes in the guise of a beautiful maiden to seduce men and slowly devour them. Refers to attractive young women who make men crazy for them.

If Lulu is considered a white-collar woman, women like Beibei are called gold-collar. As president of Chichi Entertainment Company, Beibei is a member of China 's nouveaux riches. With an income twice that of her husband and one hundred times that of the average Chinese, Beibei drives a BMW 750. Even though it is used, it cost her more than $100,000. Imported luxury goods like cars and cosmetics are taxed almost 40 percent in China, but it doesn't stop Beibei from carrying Fendi handbags and wearing Estée Lauder makeup. Even her maids get Estée Lauder gift bags. Beibei buys her clothes only at the Scitec and World Trade malls in China. Still she complains often that the luxury brands sold in China aren't most up-to-date so she has to fly to Paris or New York to shop.

Her career success doesn't surprise me. As a matter of fact, I anticipated my friend's achievement. Among the three of us, thirty-five-year-old Beibei, granddaughter of a Chinese general, is the oldest, tallest, and most self-assured. She has always been a smart, aggressive, business-oriented go-getter, whom I admire and am disgusted by at the same time.

Beibei invites me to have dinner in the stylish and pricey Courtyard Restaurant owned by a Chinese-American lawyer near the Forbidden City. She is wearing a red dudou - baby doll clothing that shows off her belly button like Britney Spears and exposes her shoulders like Nicole Kidman. Beibei has a narrow face. She wears dark bangs that make her look much younger than she actually is. Youthfulness is worshipped in China to a ridiculous degree, and Beibei can't risk being thought of as old or out of date. Beibei's heels are dangerously high, but she never seems to have trouble navigating even the most difficult terrain. As she walks to the table, the lace of her Victoria 's Secret underwear peaks out from above her waistline.

Lulu isn't with us. She is dashing off to Tibet with her lover Ximu, whose art show will include a hundred people taking a shower in front of the Potala Palace. But she calls us long distance, "Guess what? As I'm standing right in front of the Potala Palace, I see many Tibetan protesters! They say that Ximu tries to make fun of them and perpetuate the stereotypes that Tibetans don't like to wash themselves! But come on, this is fucking art!" Her voice reveals her deep admiration for Ximu.

"I guess being controversial is what Ximu wants. We wish him good luck!" Beibei quickly hangs up the phone.

"I hate Ximu. I can't stand Lulu's obsession with him. Why is she so stupid when it comes to Ximu?" Beibei complains to me.

"Everybody has her blind spot, I guess," I say.

"Have you found out that Lulu loves to mimic George Sand?" Beibei asks me.

"You mean the feminist writer who was Chopin's lover?"

"Yes."

"But I thought Lulu was more a fan of Simone de Beauvoir and Marguerite Duras!" Lulu's love life can get confusing.

"Marguerite Duras, the author of The Lover. The woman who had a twenty-something lover when she was in her sixties? Did she smoke too?" asks Beibei.

"I can't remember, but it's very likely."

"I think Lulu picks up smoking and swearing from George Sand. But it's all on the surface. George Sand was so ahead of her time. Lulu isn't a feminist. She is still a slave of men, but I," Beibei blows a smoke ring proudly, "am the master of men."

Beibei has a tendency to put down others in order to elevate herself. She even does this to her best friends, like Lulu and me, but without evil intentions. Sometimes, she just needs to feel like a queen. Her fortune-teller says that she was a queen in her previous life, and she genuinely believes it.

Beibei has been married for seven years and has had four lovers during that time, all young guys in their twenties. They call her Big Sis. Her latest lover is called Iron Egg, a twenty-one-year-old journalist for a local tabloid. As the owner of an entertainment company, Beibei is following the new fashion of dating young studs. Hong Kong singer Faye Wong and American actress Demi Moore are her relationship role models.

"Men had legitimate lovers for thousands of years in China. They were called concubines. Why can't we women have our male concubines?" Beibei reveals a seductive smile.

Before I can say anything, she continues, "You know Western feminists have gone too far. They are men haters. I agree with them that men are jerks. You can't give up everything for them. But I don't hate men. I love being their master. It's fun!"

"How can a woman become a master of men?" I ask while sipping fresh apple juice.

"Don't believe any of that love bullshit. You have to realize that the stupidest investment in the world is an investment in love," says Beibei. "Only when you are immune from love will you have the chance to be a master." The lesson continues.

Of course, I know Beibei has no faith in love because her husband – the one they call Chairman Hua – betrayed her.

When Beibei was studying at the Central Minority Nationalities Institute, she met Hua Dabin. Because he was chairman of the students association, everybody called him Chairman Hua – after Hua Guofeng, Mao Zedong's designated successor. Hua Dabin came from Xinjiang, was tall and striking and very popular with the girls.

Beibei fell in love with Chairman Hua, and was soon living with him off-campus. This was major news that year at school – because at the time it was forbidden for college students to marry or live together. The institute almost expelled them, and only because of Beibei's family connections were they allowed to stay.

Hua majored in literary and historical archives, and after graduation it was difficult for him to find a job. The school was going to send him back to Xinjiang. It was nearly impossible for people from the outer provinces to remain in Beijing.

Beibei decided to marry him immediately. That way, he could obtain Beijing residency and stay in Beijing. Beibei also did not hesitate to use her old revolutionary grandfather to pull some strings and find Hua a job. Her grandfather had been incorruptible all his life, but he couldn't remain so in his final years, all for the sake of his much-loved granddaughter.