Li Ang - The Lost Garden

Besides, she was also troubled by a deep-seated fear of being hurt again, and that had stopped her from running into his arms that night. What had held her back and blocked an instinctive reaction was precisely this extreme fear.

She waited, biding her time till the acute fear of love receded from her heart.

But before that happened, she ran into Lin at a popular Taipei café.

It was like something out of a novel, a movie, or a TV drama. Taipei in the seventies had embarked upon a European style of interior decoration. Copies of European landscape paintings produced in Taiwan for export hung on the exquisitely carved mahogany posts and walls. Under soft lighting and amid a live performance, she looked up and spotted Lin walking in.

Though it resembled an ordinary gathering among friends, the purpose of the meeting was a billion NT loan that her uncle’s company planned to apply for. The bank had valued a piece of land he was using as collateral at only 800,000,000, which meant that he would get about 600,000,000 if the bank were willing to approve a loan at 80 percent of its worth, much less than he needed.

Yinghong was seeking the assistance of a Ms. Lin, the fifth concubine of a high-ranking government official. If Ms. Lin was willing to speak with the official on their behalf, they would get what they needed, or, for that matter, any amount they desired, since no land had a set value.

Her uncle had invited the dinner guests, all young ladies and married women who often got together for dinner. After dinner, he excused himself, saying he had another banquet to attend; Yinghong was charged with the task of bringing the ladies, along with Ms. Lin, to the European-style café.

It was not the first time the subject of the loan had come up; Ms. Lin had already agreed to help, and everything seemed to be progressing nicely. That night, Yinghong was there to give Ms. Lin a pay-to-bearer cashable check for two million NT. She looked up, and there he was. She knew from a single glance that it was him, knew it with a certainty that people often describe as being able to recognize your lover even if he or she had been burned to ashes. At first she didn’t think much about it, but then she began to wonder how such a coincidence could be possible, something that happened only in novels or movies. She had been talking to Ms. Lin when she happened to look up, and was unnerved by the impossible coincidence. Wanting to make sure, she took a quick second look, only to realize that her eyes had lost focus and that everything was a blur.

Her eyes came back into focus before she could rub them, and Lin Xigeng’s form immediately leaped into her consciousness.

She was momentarily shaken, but then she concentrated on how ridiculous the whole scene was, like a third-rate movie or TV melodrama. At such a moment, actors will rub their eyes to show that what they are witnessing is truly incredible. But then it dawned on her that even third-rate movies are based on reality.

Obviously Lin spotted her, and was surprised and somewhat incredulous; he returned her glance. They were separated by those mahogany posts decorated with dark mirrors intermixed with cheap, imitation European landscape paintings made in Taiwan for export. She was seated, he was standing, but the distance meant that she did not have to look up at his tall figure. Naturally, he walked straight up to her, but time seemed to stand still, giving the impression that it took a lifetime for him to get near her.

Feeling that she had been gazing at him for a long time made her uneasy. Finally she looked away, only to see multiple images of him in the dark mirrors on the posts: his back, one-quarter profile, half-profile, three-quarters profile. Each one was shown from only one angle, but there were so many of him from all directions that it seemed to be an endless image of him coming at her. It was so real and yet utterly unreal, and she had trouble telling the reflections from the real him. The mystifying sensation she’d had ever since their first meeting returned.

When he stood before her forcing her to look up, she was finally convinced that it was really him.

She greeted him casually and invited him to sit, but her heart was racing and her face was getting hot. As she rattled off a series of titles and introduced her friends to him, General Manager So-and-so’s wife, Section Head So-and-so’s daughter, etc., she could not keep from thinking that she should have changed out of her suit and blouse before coming to the café, because she knew that he had always liked her in more feminine clothes.

She tossed out one company and title after another, careful not to make mistakes. Mrs. Chen, whose husband was the Taiwan representative of an American fried chicken and hamburger firm; Mrs. Wu, whose husband was chairman of the board of a life insurance company; Miss Zhang, the youngest daughter of the chairman of the board of some enterprise, and so on. Her heartbeat quickened and she felt her smiling face beginning to quiver. Try as she might, she still got one title wrong; it should have been Dongqi Department Store, not Yuandong Department Store. Correcting herself, she quickly added that it was the first company to have a Japanese partner. At the grand opening the surge of shoppers had caused a huge traffic jam in the Eastern District, prompting the city to send more than a hundred traffic policemen to maintain order.

The women, married or not, all sat up and took notice. They knew he was the newest real estate tycoon, whose total worth was several billions; he would surely be the topic of conversation at their next social. To be sure, they would talk about him in a nonchalant manner — Lin Xigeng wasn’t as imposing as people said; or, he was nice and polite, to which someone would be sure to respond by saying, Mrs. So-and-so, he was only nice to you. With others, he was a different person.

Lin nodded to each of them while handing out his business cards. Yinghong knew he wasn’t paying much attention, until Ms. Lin was mentioned; then she detected something in his eyes and sensed that he must know who Ms. Lin was. But he just kept smiling, joining in the conversation every once in a while and never initiating any topics on his own. Yinghong thought he must be feeling awkward, and the odd discomfort he had displayed at that late-night snack joint was now turning into restlessness.

She was sitting so close to him she could hear him shift in his chair or change his posture. He crossed one leg, but quickly drew it back. Then he took out a cigarette and lit up, without even inquiring if the ladies would mind, totally ignoring etiquette. No one objected, but he quickly snubbed it out. Yinghong was too busy to notice if he’d switched to a different brand.

Equally uneasy, she began to talk, faster and faster, and even attempted a joke to erase the uneasiness. She was not unaware that she was saying too much and laughing too loudly at such an occasion, but she simply could not control herself.

Then he caught her off guard by suddenly standing up and saying he had business to attend to. The surprise sent stabbing pains through her heart, though she was still conscious of the popular romantic song being played on violin and piano by the live performers. She maintained her smile as he said good-bye to all the women before leaving.

Several years later, Yinghong would be entertaining guests in their luxurious home (Lin would be absent, as usual), at a time when the government official Ms. Lin had been living with would have just stepped down from his position, yet was still considered a force to be reckoned with in the complex political scene. Everyone present continued to treat Ms. Lin with special attention, but, of course, by now they were also flattering Yinghong.