A Loyal Character Dancer

Mr. Li want to discuss the Wen case with me?”
     
    “I’m not sure about that. The invitation is to demonstrate our bureau’s attention to the case, and to you, our distinguished American guest.”
     
    “Isn’t it enough to assign you to me?” she said.
     
    “Well, in China, Li’s invitation gives more face.”
     
    “Giving face—I’ve heard only about losing face.”
     
    “If you are a somebody, you give face by making a friendly gesture.”
     
    “I see, like your visit to Gu. So I have no choice?”
     
    “Well, if you say no, Party Secretary Li will lose face. The bureau will, too—including me.”
     
    “Oh no! Yours is one face I have to save.” She laughed. “What shall I wear to the Beijing Opera?”
     
    “Beijing Opera is not like Western opera. You don’t have to dress formally, but if you do—”
     
    “Then I’m giving face, too.”
     
    “Exactly. Shall I pick you up at the hotel?”
     
    “Where is the theater?”
     
    “Not far from your hotel. On the corner of Fuzhou and Henan Roads. The City Government Auditorium.”
     
    “You don’t have to pick me up. I’ll take a taxi there. See you.”
     
    “Oh, by the way, I have not discussed this afternoon’s visit with Party Secretary Li.”
     
    She understood this last remark was a deliberate warning.
     
    She started to dress and reached for her suit, but after such an eventful day, especially after their argument in Qingpu, she felt tempted to appear more feminine. She decided on a black dress with a low neckline.
     
    In front of the City Government Auditorium, she saw the surprise on Chen’s face before she noticed somebody standing by him, Party Secretary Li, a stout man in his early sixties, his wrinkled face dominated by the heavy bags under his eyes.
     
    They were ushered into an elegant reception room where there was an impressive array of pictures on the walls showing high-ranking officials shaking hands with distinguished foreign guests or with the actors and actresses.
     
    “I welcome you on behalf of the Shanghai Police Bureau, Inspector Catherine Rohn.” Li spoke in a rather stiff official tone, despite the smile on his face.
     
    “Thank you, Mr. Party Secretary Li. It is a great honor to meet you today.”
     
    “It is the first time that our two countries are cooperating on an illegal immigration case. It is a top priority for our bureau, and for our Party authorities and government.”
     
    “I appreciate the cooperation of the Shanghai Police Bureau, but there has been no progress so far.”
     
    “Don’t worry, Inspector Rohn. We’ve been doing our best, both in Shanghai and Fujian. You will escort Wen Liping to the United States in time.” Li changed the subject abruptly. “Now, this is your first trip to Shanghai, I’ve heard. What is your impression of this city?”
     
    “Fantastic. Shanghai is more marvelous than I imagined.”
     
    “What about the hotel?”
     
    “Fabulous. Chief Inspector Chen has told the hotel people to treat me as a ‘distinguished guest.’”
     
    “That’s what he should have done.” Li nodded vigorously. “So how is your Chinese partner?”
     
    “I could not ask for a better colleague.”
     
    “Yes, he is our ace inspector. A romantic poet to boot. That’s why we have assigned him to you.”
     
    “You call him a romantic poet,” she said, jokingly, “but he calls himself a modernist.”
     
    “You see, modernism is no good. Inspector Rohn says so too,” Li said to Chen. “Be romantic. Revolutionary romantic, Chief Inspector Chen.”
     
    “Romantic, revolutionary romantic,” Chen echoed. “Chairman Mao used this phrase in 1944 in the Yen’an Forum Talk.”
     
    It was obvious to her that Party Secretary Li did not know much about literary terms. Chen seemed to be good-humored, even a bit offhand, toward his boss. Was it because of his special connections within the Party system?
     
    They were ushered to their reserved seats; she sat between Li and Chen. The lights grew dim. An orchestra of traditional Chinese musical instruments started playing and the audience burst out cheering.
     
    “Why are they cheering now?” Catherine asked.
     
    “Beijing Opera is an art of many facets,” Chen said. “Singing, posing, performing martial arts, and playing music. A master of a traditional Chinese musical instrument like the erhu can make a huge difference. The audience is applauding the music.”
     
    “No, that’s not why they are