A Loyal Character Dancer

been better. In the early eighties, few made up their minds to let go of an iron rice bowl—a job in a state-run company. That gave him a good start, and the guanxi he had accumulated as the Wenhui reporter helped a lot, too. He made tons of money. Then he met Zhenzhen, a college student. She fell in love with him. They got married, had a daughter the following year, and his business further expanded. He had no time for poetry by the time the anthology came out. On impulse, he sent Wen a copy with his business card enclosed. There was no response. He was not surprised.
     
    On one occasion, he asked a Fujian businessman to take to her three thousand Yuan anonymously. She would not accept the money. Engaged in one business battle after another, he had no time for sentiment. He thought he had forgotten about her.
     
    He was astonished when, several days earlier, she suddenly walked into his office. She had changed a lot; she was hardly different from an ordinary peasant now. In his mind’s eyes, however, she remained what she had been at sixteen, the same oval face, the same infinite tenderness in her eyes, and the same slender fingers that had held up the red paper heart. It did not take him a minute to make up his mind. She had helped him at the darkest moment of his life. Now it was his turn to help her.
     
    Liu paused to take a drink of his tea.
     
    “So to you,” Chen said, “she has become an idea—a symbol of your lost youth. It does not matter that she is no longer young or beautiful.”
     
    “The difference in her appearance makes it all the more touching.”
     
    “All the more romantic, too.” Chen nodded. “What did she tell you about herself?”
     
    “That she had to stay away from the village for a few days.”
     
    “Did you ask her why?”
     
    “She said that she did not want to join Feng in the United States, but she was afraid she had no choice.”
     
    “What did that mean?” Chen inquired. “If she had no choice, why should she have come all the way to you?”
     
    “I did not press her. She broke down a couple of times during our talk. I think it’s about her pregnancy.”
     
    “So she never really explained.”
     
    “She must have her reasons. Perhaps she had to think about her future, and she could not do so in the village.”
     
    “Has she spoken to you about her plans?”
     
    “No, she hasn’t. She does not seem in a hurry to leave.” Liu added reflectively, “Married to such a bastard as Feng, her change of mind would not be surprising to me.”
     
    “Well—” Chen guessed that it would be probably useless to push Liu any more in that direction. She could have stayed here without having to make any explanation. “Let me tell you something she has not told you. She fled from the village because she got a phone call from Feng, saying her life was in danger from gangsters.”
     
    “She did not tell me that. I did not ask her, and she did not have to.”
     
    “It’s understandable that she did not tell you everything, but we know she came to you with the intention of staying for a few days—not to think, but to hide from the local triad.”
     
    “I’m glad she thought of me in her need.” Liu lit a cigarette.
     
    “According to our information, she was supposed to call Feng, her husband, as soon as she found a safe place. So far she has not done so. Now she won’t join him even if we guarantee her safety. So she must have made her decision.”
     
    “She can stay as long as she likes,” Liu said. “Do you suppose she will have a good life there?”
     
    “A lot of people think so. Look at the long line waiting for visas at the American Consulate in Shanghai. Not to mention those people like her husband who sneak out.”
     
    “A good life with that bastard?”
     
    “But he is still her husband, isn’t he? And if she remains here—with you, what will others think?”
     
    “What matters is what she thinks,” Liu said. “When she came to me in need, the least I could do was to shelter her.”
     
    “You have done a lot for her. I’ve seen her passport picture. She looks so different today. Almost like another woman.”
     
    “Yes, she’s been resurrected. Too romantic a word, you will say.”
     
    “No. It is the very word, except that we are not living in a romantic age.”
     
    “Romance is not something out there, Chief Inspector Chen. It is in your mind,” Liu said, shaking his head. “I’ve told you what I know, as you