And if they found out, how could they ransom her, since the bandits stole all the treasure she was taking to the family estate?

  Through her fear, she also felt hope. Her dear father Arh Chin’s spirit would certainly overpower the bandits. He would never let his daughter be harmed by these bullies. No. He would protect her. Staring out to sea, she hoped for a miracle. Her dreamy eyes could almost see help approaching from afar—the rescue boat that was never to arrive.

  Then she came down with a bad fever and spent several delirious days not knowing where she was, without food, without fresh water. Her desperate aunt used drops of rain she collected from the roof of the boat to moisten Yan’s cracked lips and dry throat. Yan probably would not have lived through the ordeal except that the bandits decided to let the boat go. It was time for them to move on and find a new target.

  The plundered vessel continued on its course toward Ningbo, without its treasure or Yan’s cousin, occupied only by the sick, the weak, the helpless, the old, and the young. Everyone was disheartened, having lost everything except their chapped, sunburned skins.

  Yan had to rest for a week at her ancestral family estate before she felt her strength coming back. Lao Ma was the gentlest woman she had ever met, attending to every tiny detail of her recovery night and day. Yan constantly asked for water. Having been deprived of it, she panicked whenever she couldn’t see water, or wasn’t sure whether a glass of it was real drinking water or came from the sea. A single sip provided her with relief. It took her a while to realize that she did not have to worry about water anymore, and that she was safe again.

  The first thing she did when she was strong enough to get out of bed was to worship all the ancestors in her family temple and get their blessing. Yan had not set foot inside a temple since her family converted to Christianity, but this shrine contained spirits of all the Gu ancestors, and it was only appropriate that she worship them.

  With Lao Ma’s help, Yan lit an incense stick in front of each ancestral tablet and placed a big bunch of them in front of the Goddess of Mercy, whose carved figure soared as high as the ceiling. Then she kneeled in front of the entire congregation of figurines representing all her inherited ancestors to receive their communal blessing. On her hands and knees, Yan lowered her head all the way to the floor three times, while Lao Ma fingered her wooden prayer beads and sang a Buddhist blessing. When Yan finished bowing, she closed her eyes and folded her hands together in a praying position, remaining that way until Lao Ma finished her ritual. Then, together, they thanked all the spirits and asked them for guidance and protection.

  Afterwards, Lao Ma took Yan around her family’s lands and introduced her to less fortunate relatives who had been given merciful permission by Ho De Gu to work his land and harvest the crops without paying any fees. Yan was received like royalty. Baskets of the freshest produce, eggs, cured meats, and smoked fish were presented to her. Everyone called her “Little Miss” out of respect. One elderly woman with powder-white hair dropped to her knees in front of Yan and started to kiss her feet, calling her the “Savior of our humble existence.” Yan was utterly at a loss, and she insisted on pulling the old lady up. She knew that what her father had done for the less fortunate relatives in their home village meant a lot to them, yet she felt uneasy accepting their gratitude on her father’s behalf. Still, she was very proud of her father for his kind deeds.

  The trip changed Yan’s feelings about her new family. She learned about their origins and their history, and no longer felt bound to them by force. She began to feel that she had indeed become the daughter of this family, accepted by all the ancestors.

  Having been given away and enduring years of criticism from her new mother, it was an unusual feeling to be surrounded by people who looked up to her and were eager to please her. She felt proud and happy. Every morning, Yan woke to Lao Ma’s gentle whispers. Snuggling under a soft, homespun cotton blanket, she could hear the birds twittering and smell the bowl of honey-sweet egg custard fresh from the steamer on her nightstand even before she opened her eyes. Lao Ma was always the first thing Yan saw in the morning, bending over her bed and holding a warm, moist towel to freshen her up. Her silky white hair was perfectly combed and pinned up into a bun in the back.

  As Yan enjoyed her breakfast, Lao Ma worked on her hair and brought her a fresh change of clothes. There was so much to look forward to. Yan was taken on seaside excursions, oversaw the unloading of the fishing boats, and was given the first taste when freshly smoked fish were brought—still warm—out of the curing huts. In turn, she insisted on undertaking the task of making hundreds of rice cakes during the holidays, stamping them with festive red seals and then distributing them to the grateful villagers.

  Yan enjoyed life on the family estate. She loved and was loved back; she gave and was given to. Nobody ever blamed her for things she hadn’t done or had done wrong. If she failed to do something right the first time, she was encouraged to try again. She began to gain confidence. Yan felt she could stay there forever and be happy in this ideal and simple country life.

  Sadly, the day came all too soon when she had to say farewell to the people she had come to love. For the second time, a gigantic passenger boat puffing white steam came and took her away from the life of her dreams, carrying her back to Shanghai.

  To her surprise, her family had moved to a new location in the Zhabei District in the northeastern part of the city. After a couple days of rest, Yan finally caught up with her parents on everything that had taken place while she was gone. It was then that she discovered that her family life had once again taken an unexpected turn.

  Chapter X

  A Topsy-turvy World

  Ho De Gu was an upright man who believed in a world where everyone treated everyone else fairly. Unfortunately, his good luck and success caused jealousy among his relatives, and they began spreading rumors that Ho De was abusing his power as general manager of the Wellington Shop and putting money into his own pocket. After making the rounds, this slander reached Ho De’s own ears, thanks to some kind friends who warned him to be careful and watch out for those with bad intentions.

  It was hard for Ho De to hear such rumors. He had done nothing wrong and he didn’t see any point in responding to lies. But an honest man who did not have a flexible tongue to defend himself could seem as guilty as a thief. He simply swallowed the insults and did nothing. Besides, he had enough problems already. Jin Lai, who had not been feeling well for some time, was diagnosed with TB, and Ho De felt guilty that he never had time to stay home and take care of her. The rumors continued, though, and, increasingly hurt and frustrated, Ho De finally decided to quit his position and retire from social life altogether even though his cousin, the owner of the shop, insisted he should ignore the rumors and stay on.

  By the time Yan came back from the country, Ho De had already settled his wife and young son in a small but comfortable ground-floor apartment attached to a small mom-and-pop store, selling everyday necessities such as soy sauce, cooking wine, matches, cigarettes, and toilet paper. Using all his savings, he bought the apartment and store at an estate sale despite a rumor that the place was haunted and in a cursed location. A toothless knife-sharpener who worked on the street outside the store approached Ho De and whispered in his ear that the previous owner had died of a mysterious illness with empty pockets. But Ho De did not listen, and he detested rumors now more than ever. Besides, he was a Christian and did not believe in feng shui and the old superstitions. Gold watches might bring jealousy and bad luck, but what could go wrong selling matches in his own shop with no one to badmouth him? A new start was tempting and after spending hours happily imagining how he would make an easy living and spend all his time with his family, Ho De put a thick stack of gold coins into the hand of the surprised seller.

  With the store now safely his, it was time to bring Yan back from the countryside. Ho De proudly showed her around his new prize, but she was shocked by the changes that had occurred in the family, the city, and the world. Her socially prominent father had fallen to the level of a lowly shop owner, her stepmother had fallen sick to a fatal disease, and the country had fallen to the Communists. The Nationalist Party, its troops, and followers, which had ruled since 1911, fled to Taiwan, and the English, French, Germans, and other foreigners who helped make Shanghai so colorful and cosmopolitan deserted the city in a panic, lucky to get out before the storied iron door of China came down once again and remained locked for decades to come. With their power secured, the Communists began confiscating all private land, homes, companies, and stores. Under the new reforms, all private property became the property of the government, the people, and the country.

  Suddenly, everyone owned everything, and no one owned anything. Owners and managers of businesses and shops were now considered lucky to get jobs in their own companies. Those who were reluctant to turn their business over to the state, or resisted in any way, were sent to prison, or executed in public as criminals. For Yan’s family, it meant that their new apartment and store, bought with their life savings, would soon belong to the government. Since it was just an ordinary neighborhood store that had attracted no public complaints in the past, Ho De was allowed to stay on, tending the shop as a government employee with a small salary. The Gu family could stay in their apartment by paying rent to the state. They managed to live a simple life, meeting their basic needs. Their ancestral lands had been “nationalized” by the government and became one of the local “co-ops,” soon to be turned into communes. The estate, where, just weeks ago, Yan had lived like a young princess, was seized by the poor local fieldhands who were now the proud, most prestigious members of the new order.

  Yan and her family considered themselves to be fortunate when they learned about the calamities that befell their other, even richer relatives. As with many other upscale stores, Wellington Clock and Watch was taken over and closed by the government in order to eliminate services for the rich and decadent. It was wholly unnecessary, as bourgeois society had suddenly ceased to exist. The tables had turned. The poor and illiterate were made masters over the rich and educated. To have been wealthy was a sin since it was the result of exploitation. The more you owned, the more manual labor would be prescribed to clean away your sins. Ho De’s cousin, the owner of Wellington, was reassigned as a janitor and paid a petty wage. His family home, a creamy yellow three-store villa situated in the French quarter, was confiscated together with their giant mahogany furniture, grand pianos, jewelry, garments, and the memories of a lifetime. To further humiliate him, the whole family, including nine of his children, was assigned to live in the servant quarters, while the rest of the villa was subdivided into many apartments for the working-class families and Communist Party members who were now, according to the nation’s leader Mao Zedong, the masters of the country. Used to having a dozen maids and servants around the house, his wife was shocked to find that she was now all on her own, responsible for tending not only herself but also her husband and children. Whatever she wanted, and had always had, was there no more. Their world had been turned upside down.

  Yan’s eldest sister fared no better in Ningbo. She was married to the son of a famous doctor who reinvested the money he made in local farmland. By “Liberation” in 1949, he owned thousands of acres of land. He was condemned as the richest and most rotten landlord in Ningbo, someone who had exploited and taken advantage of his poor fieldhands. Public meetings were held to reveal his evil doings. All his land was confiscated and returned to the people. He was condemned to die and ordered to confess his crimes, but he refused. To the very end, he denied that he was evil and refused to kneel down in public at his own execution.

  Ho De lowered his head every time these gruesome pieces of news reached his ears. He became ever more protective of his family, and the little apartment and store became his whole world. He got up early each morning, pedaling his large three-wheeled cart to fetch supplies. He was happy with this solitary routine and considered his morning rounds as his daily exercise.

  By law, Ho De opened the store at nine and closed it at seven. It was always busiest during the last two hours when every family was preparing dinner and rushing out to the corner store to get soy sauce, rice wine, matches, a stack of brown toilet paper squares, or a tube of “Darkie” toothpaste, a wildly popular dentifrice sporting a blatantly racist logo of a black minstrel with a top hat and blazingly white teeth.

  The end of the day was always hectic, but Yan usually managed to help out and make dinner. After the last customer left, the store closed and the family would finally have some peace. Yan served the dinner, picking out the best pieces and making a special plate for her mother to eat in bed. The next best went to her father and little brother. Yan got whatever was left.

  Although Jin Lai was treated extremely well, she was getting more finicky by the day. She was always wishing for the rare, the out of season, and the unobtainable. Yan wracked her brains to find the impossible. Each time her mother craved something, Yan assured her she would get it, not knowing where she could find such a rarity or how she could pay for it.

  As the sole employee of his own store, Ho De barely made enough for the family to have the bare essentials, much less luxuries. After his experience at the clock store, Ho De did not even dare to borrow a single cup of soy sauce from the store, in case the local block warden decided to step in and do an audit, which was really an excuse for extortion, anyway. You had to be very careful in this new world, even more than before.

  Being a big girl of seventeen, Yan was resourceful and bold. When her mother asked for golden honey dates or Big Dam Crabs from Yang Cheng Lake, Yan silently took her order and set out to fulfill it. Leaving home, she went straight to the pawnshop to sell a piece of her own jewelry—a gold ring, a gold watch, a necklace, or an ivory brooch—some of which were longtime keepsakes she had loved dearly. Once they were in the pawnshop, she knew she would never get them back again. Clutching the money tightly to thwart pickpockets, she wandered all over the city, searching for her mother’s often unobtainable wishes. Sometimes, she got lucky. Other times, she went home empty-handed and collapsed onto a chair, completely depleted of energy and hope. The next day would find her back on the streets, searching for her dying mother’s little wishes.

  One cold winter day, her mother woke up craving tangerines.

  “How I wish I could have some tangerines!” she said to Yan in a dreamy voice as she held her untouched breakfast porridge. “I have been thinking about them all night. I even dreamed about them, their refreshing smell as I peeled them open, sweet juice running down my throat as I chewed and swallowed them.” She swallowed hard, lifted her head up, and begged Yan: “Can you get me some today?”

  “Yes, Mother.” Yan never liked to disappoint Jin Lai.

  It was a very difficult wish to fulfill, as fruits and vegetables in those days were seasonal, and quick transportation between north and south was virtually nonexistent. Fresh fruits were rare commodities during winter, especially the kinds that didn’t store well. Yan’s two-day expedition finally ended when she bumped into a vendor balancing a bamboo pole on his shoulder, each end of which was secured with a cloth-covered basket. When Yan asked, “Any tangerines for sale?” as she did so many, many times with so many, many disappointments, the vendor stopped and partially uncovered one of the baskets, revealing a cache of brilliant orange fruit. Without hesitating, Yan paid him a huge sum and bought ten tangerines. She wrapped them in her scarf and skipped home as fast as she could, singing an episode from her favorite opera.

  “Mother, mother,” she called in a high-pitched voice. “I’m home! I got you tangerines!”

  Unfortunately, this story did not end well. The taste of those tangerines did not live up to her mother’s expectations. They were bitter and dry, without a trace of the sweet flavor she had dreamed about as a last pleasure before the Emperor of the Underworld came to pay her a visit. She threw one at Yan, hitting her on her head.

  “You’re trying to poison me!” she shouted. “You want me to die. You … you want to get rid of me!”

  Yan ran out of the home, tears streaming down her face.

  Her father heard the commotion and followed her outside. He sat beside her on the edge of the sidewalk, holding her hand tightly and asking her forgiveness.

  “Yan, my good daughter, I am so sorry. Your mother is not herself anymore. It’s the illness. Would you forgive her for my sake? Would you? Would you?”

  When she saw the tears on Ho De’s cheeks, she did. And life resumed in the Gu household, slowly, silently, patiently, and hopelessly. Everyone knew that it was a matter of time, for in China at that time, TB was incurable.

  Chapter XI

  New Prospects in Life

  Through her radio, as well as her work at the little store, Yan learned a lot about the new world in which she now lived. Actually, the store was the information center of the neighborhood. When people saw each other at the store, their greetings were often followed by juicy rumors and bits and pieces of neighborhood news. That was how Yan found out that the area high school was enrolling nighttime volunteers for the National Literacy Movement. Inspired by the enthusiasm of her customers and a wish to get out of the stifling atmosphere of long workdays and life with her poisonous stepmother, Yan decided to test her home education.

  Wouldn’t it be wonderful to do something outside this apartment, this store, and do something important? The hours were certainly fine. She could leave the house after she fed the family, took care of her stepmother, and put her brother to bed for the night. All she needed to buy was a flashlight to accompany her on her long, lonely walks to the school.