A Loyal Character Dancer

mill.
     
    He decided to go to his mother’s place during the lunch break.                                                  
    It was not far away, but he had Little Zhou drive him there in the Mercedes. On the way, he stopped by a food market,   where he bargained with a fruit peddler for several minutes   before he bought a small bamboo basket of dried Longyan pulp. He recalled Inspector Rohn’s gibe about his bargaining skills.                                                  
    The sight of the familiar old building in Jiujiang Road seemed to promise the brief respite he needed from politics. Some of his former neighbors greeted him as he stepped out of the Mercedes which he was using for his mother’s benefit. She had never approved of his career choice, but in an increasingly   materialistic neighborhood, his cadre status, with a chauffeur holding the door for him, might help hers.
     
    The common cement sink by the front door was still damp. He spotted deep-green moss sprouting abundantly, like a large map, near the tap. The cracked walls needed extensive repairs. Several holes at the foot of the side wall, from which the crickets of his childhood had jumped out, were still there. The stairway was musty and dark, and the landings were piled with broken cardboard boxes and wicker baskets.
     
    He had not visited his mother since he had taken over the Wen case. There, in the same small plain attic room, he was amazed to see a colorful array of breads, sausages, and exotic-looking dishes in disposable plastic containers on the table.
     
    “All from Moscow Suburb,” his mother said.
     
    “That Overseas Chinese Lu! He can be overwhelming.”
     
    “He calls me ‘Mom,’ and refers to you as his real brother in need.”
     
    “He’s been harping on the same story all this time.”
     
    “ ‘A friend in need is a friend indeed.’ I’ve been reading Buddhist scripture. It’s not for nothing you do good deeds in this world. Whatever you do leads to something, either what you expect or what you don’t expect. Some people call it luck, but it’s really karma. Another friend of yours, Mr. Ma, has also visited me.”
     
    “When?”
     
    “This morning. A regular medical checkup, that’s what the old man calls it.”
     
    “It’s very thoughtful of him,” he said. “Any problems, Mother?”
     
    “My stomach has not been so comfortable of late. Mr. Ma insisted on coming over. It’s not easy for an old man to climb the stairs here.”
     
    “What did he say?”
     
    “Nothing serious. The imbalance of yin and yang, so on and so forth. He had the medicine delivered here,” she said. “Like Lu, Mr. Ma is anxious to pay you back, or he won’t be at ease. A man yiqi.”
     
    “The old man has suffered so much. Ten years for a copy of Dr. Zhivago. What I did was nothing.”
     
    “Wang Feng wrote the article about him, didn’t she?”
     
    “Yes, that was her idea.”
     
    “How is she doing in Japan?”
     
    “I haven’t heard from her for a long time.”
     
    “Any news from Beijing?”
     
    “Well, Party Secretary Li talks about arranging a Beijing vacation for me,” he said evasively.
     
    His mother did not really approve of his relationship with Ling, he knew. The old woman was concerned that High above, in the jade palace of the moon, / it could be too cold. What had worried Su Dongpo thousands of years earlier worried her, but what worried her more was the reality of his approaching thirty-five, still a bachelor. As the saying went, “Anything in a vegetable basket has to be counted as a vegetable now.”
     
    “That’s good,” she said with a smile.
     
    “I’m not sure if I can make it.”
     
    “So, you’re not sure—” His mother left the sentence unfinished, “Well, Mr. Ma told me you brought an American girl to his place.”
     
    “She is my partner temporarily.”
     
    “You seemed to think a lot of her, Mr. Ma said.”
     
    “Come on, Mother. I have to take good care of her. If anything happens to her, I will be held responsible.”
     
    “Whatever you say, Son. I’m old, and I hope you will settle down, just like everybody else.”
     
    “I’m too busy with my work, Mother.”
     
    “I do not know anything about your work. The world has changed too much. But I don’t think entanglement with an American will do you any good.”
     
    “Don’t worry,