A Case of Two Cities

stop, a fresh wave of people broke in, elbowing and pushing him in still farther. The increasing heat mixed with the sweat smell was almost unbearable. The gap between the doing-well and the not-doing-well was visible everywhere. Nowadays, a successful entrepreneur like Gu would have a private car, and a rising Party cadre like Chen would have a company car, but the ordinary people could only take the ever-crowded bus.
     
    A “provincial sister” standing next to Chen, wearing a black dress with thin shoulder straps, soon found her dress crushed out of shape, and started pushing Chen in frustration. At the next stop, though it was still quite a distance from his destination, he squeezed himself out through the walls of passengers, which caused another angry outburst of curses all around. The young girl followed him out, only to find the buttons on her shoulder straps missing. In embarrassment, she started screaming for the bus to stop, her hair disheveled, her dress rumpled. The bus crawled out of sight, leaving her standing there, holding her straps, weeping and whining, her voice seeming to dog him for two or three blocks.
     
    The cool air from the central air-conditioning of the Starbucks was heavenly. It was one of the earliest American cafés in Shanghai, and its chain shops were rapidly spreading and attracting a large crowd of trendy customers. A new class, conveniently called the white collars, had emerged, most of them with well-paid positions in private or foreign companies. Young, educated, and well-off, they were eager to catch up with the world—through their newly acquired global brand awareness. Sitting in a corner, Gu was waiting for him.
     
    “A cool place,” Chen said as he took his seat, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a paper napkin.
     
    “How could the Shanghai people have managed all these years without a good café?” Gu said. “People need a place like this.”
     
    “Good question. Old Marx is right again. Coffee belongs to the superstructure—for the mind, not for the basic needs of the body. People must have a solid economic basis before worrying about the superstructure.”
     
    “No wonder you’re a political star, Chief Inspector Chen. You’re capable of applying Marxism to a cup of coffee.” Gu chuckled. “A lot of people come here for the feeling of being fashionable in today’s society—that’s for the mind too.”
     
    That was probably true. Sitting in an expensive American café might convince them they were the successful elite. But Chen hadn’t come for that.
     
    “A cop cannot afford to be fashionable.” Chen decided not to talk about Dong for the moment, with whom Gu might have things to do in the future, as he did with Chen. Instead, the inspector came to the point directly. “I need to ask you a question, Gu.”
     
    “Go ahead.”
     
    “Do you happen to know An Jiayi?”
     
    “Oh yes, a celebrity.”
     
    “Any contact with her?” Chen said. “For instance, has she visited your place?”
     
    “No, she hasn’t. As a rule, men don’t bring their women to karaoke.”
     
    “What does that mean?”
     
    “They come for K girls, my Comrade Chief Inspector. It’s no business secret. Now that people have hi-fi stereo systems at home, they don’t have to come to my place to sing. Someone like An has to be especially careful. It wouldn’t be pleasant for her to be seen in KTV club in the company of another man.”
     
    “In the company of another man?”
     
    “Isn’t that something you want to find out—whom she associates with?”
     
    “Well, I am curious,” Chen said, nodding, before changing the topic. “She has a PR company, hasn’t she?”
     
    “I’ve heard of it.”
     
    “Now that’s something that beats me. She has no business experience. Nor has she any capital—as far as I know.”
     
    “No, that’s something you don’t know. Today’s society is like a huge market and everything is for sale. So is her anchorwoman position. She doesn’t need any other capital.”
     
    “Enlighten me, Gu. I’m no businessman, you know.”
     
    “You think she interviews people for nothing? No, people pay a lot for publicity. What’s more effective than a TV show?” Gu took a deliberate sip at his coffee. “She can really help.”
     
    “But how could her show run like that?”
     
    “Believe it or not, these celebrities charge even for sitting at your banquet table. At the grand opening of my bar on Hengshan