The Mao Case

disaster for all of us?”
    Yu was taken aback by her vehement response. Considering what
her family had suffered during the Cultural Revolution, however, her reaction was understandable.
    “Mao lived in Beijing, and Shang, in Shanghai,” he said. “How was that possible?”
    “Well, Mao came to Shanghai from time to time. Whenever he was here, the local officials would arrange parties for him at
     a grand mansion that had belonged to a Jewish businessman before 1949. Shang was waiting for him there.”
    “He might have danced with her, but that did not necessarily mean he slept with her.”
    “Come on, Yu. Mao could have danced with anyone in Beijing. Why come all the way to Shanghai?”
    “But Mao traveled a lot. There’s a song about his traveling for the welfare of the country, I remember.”
    “You’ve never heard these stories about Mao? I can’t believe you, Yu. Shang wasn’t the only one. Mao had so many personal
     secretaries, nurses, orderlies. Remember Jade Phoenix, the pretty secretary who took care of him day and night at his imperial
     residence? Now mind you, she was a young woman with only elementary school education who actually worked as the confidential
     secretary for Mao. Again, it was written up in the Party newspapers that even Madam Mao had to suck up to Jade Phoenix. Why?
     Everybody knows the answer.”
    “Yes, Jade Phoenix was in a documentary movie in Yunnan, that I do remember. It was just a glimpse of a knockout helping Mao
     walk out of his room. You know what? In that moment, I, too, couldn’t help speculating about their relationship, and I felt
     so guilty about it afterward, as if I had committed a most unforgivable crime.”
    “You didn’t have to feel guilty at all. Jade Phoenix is now an honorable manager of a Mao restaurant in Beijing and she sits
     there occasionally. The business is booming and reservations have to be made days beforehand. All the customers go there for
     a chance to see Jade Phoenix.”
    “But it all happened so many years ago. Why this assignment for Chen, all of a sudden?”

    “That I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “Some power struggle at the top?”
    “No, I don’t think they are going to remove Mao’s portrait from the Gate of Tiananmen Square, not anytime soon.”
    “Chen’s not working on some cover-up for him, I hope.”
    “But what can I do to help?”
    “He’ll come to you when he’s in need. Don’t worry about it, but — I do understand Old Hunter’s concern,” she said, rising abruptly.
     “Oh, I have to put the chicken in the pot. I’ll be right back.”
    She hurried back in a minute, picking up the copy of
Cloud and Rain in Shanghai
again. “I’m going to reread it closely. Perhaps I can find some clue for your boss.”
    “You, too, have a soft spot for our irresistible chief inspector,” he said with mock jealousy. “He also has a personal problem
     at the moment.”
    “What problem?”
    “Ling, his HCC girlfriend in Beijing, has married somebody else — people have been gossiping about it at the bureau.”
    “Oh that,” she said. “He got a call from Beijing during the bureau political studies meeting a couple of days ago. Somebody
     overheard the conversation — a few words of it. Chen looked devastated afterward.”
    “It might not be that bad for him. He’s a successful cop — and not because of her. In fact, I wondered what he would become
     if they stayed together. You know what I mean.”
    “He’s become a chief inspector on his own merits, no question about it,” Yu readily agreed. “Which is easy for others to see,
     but not for him.”
    “Then now he can turn over a new page. With his HCC girlfriend constantly at the back of his mind, it was impossible for him
     to see other girls. White Cloud, for instance.”
    It was another of her favorite topics. Peiqin appeared to think that the breakup had come as a shock to Chen, but Chen’s relationship
     with his HCC girlfriend had long been on the rocks. Last year, Chen
had passed on an opportunity to go to Beijing, but Yu decided not to mention that to Peiqin at the moment.
    “No, not White Cloud,” he said instead. “I don’t think she’s a good one for him, either.”
    “You know what I found in a bookstore the other day?” she said, delving into the book box again to pick up a magazine. “A
     poem written by your chief inspector. For his HCC girlfriend, though it isn’t that explicit. Even then and there, they