The Goddess of Yantai Read online

  “If I see Fai, I’ll certainly tell her,” Ava said, not quite ready to concede the obvious to Suki.

  “And Ava, I’m quite sure it will go well with Mrs. Sun. We understand each other.”

  Ava ended the call, and as she did a gust of wind swept across the hotel entrance. She looked up and saw that the sky was suddenly a different shade of grey from the usual smog. Several raindrops landed on her face and she sensed that a storm was coming. She stepped towards the curb and asked the doorman to get her a taxi.

  Fifteen minutes later she was less than a kilometre from the hotel, the taxi barely moving as rain pelted down so hard that Ava had to strain to see out the windows. She sent a text to Fai describing her situation and then began to email the David Mo information to May Ling and Xu. She hesitated before sending some of the more graphic photos of David with his boyfriend, but then, figuring they might ultimately be her best protection, she did so anyway.

  The rain eased after another fifteen minutes. As the traffic began to crawl rather than just sit still, Ava sent a text to Fai saying the taxi was finally moving.

  She wiped the mist from the window and looked outside, into the heart of Beijing. All she knew about it, she thought, was what she’d read. If Suki was right about how long it would take for the lawyers to finalize the agreement, she had maybe two days to correct that. Was Fai up to doing a little sightseeing with her?

  By the time the taxi arrived at the entrance to the hutong, the weather had again taken a turn for the worse. Ava groaned as she contemplated how wet she was going to be by the time she reached Fai’s. She paid the driver, opened the door, and started to get out.

  “Wait there, I’m coming,” a familiar voice said.

  Ava looked through the driving rain to see Fai walking towards her, holding an umbrella over her head.

  ( 20 )

  The rain didn’t let up for the entire evening, but Ava and Fai were warm and snug inside the kitchen. The sound of rain pelting against the windows only heightened their sense of well-being. They ate what was left of the food Fai’s mother had sent from Yantai, finished a bottle and a half of red wine, and talked about the day that had been and the day that lay ahead.

  Ava underplayed the meeting with Mo, seeing no benefit in making it sound anything other than a normal business transaction. One of the few questions Fai had was about the possibility of Mo using his connections to exact revenge on Lop or Ava. Ava explained what she’d done with May and Xu.

  “Do they know why all this was necessary?” Fai asked.

  “Xu does. May doesn’t yet but probably will. I don’t have secrets where they’re concerned; they’re more like family than friends. Is that a problem for you?”

  “Not at all. I just wish I had friends like that.”

  Ava’s phone was on the entire evening but didn’t ring. She assumed that meant things had gone well between the Suns and Suki, which made a good day even better.

  Fai kept glancing at her phone, looking a bit anxious every time she did.

  “Are you expecting a call?” Ava asked.

  “Chen promised to call after his meeting with Mo.”

  “What time was it scheduled for?”

  “They were having dinner. At least that was the plan. I don’t know if your meeting with Mo caused any changes.”

  “Have you spoken to Chen about our meeting?”

  “I felt I had to, but I lied. I called him after we talked and told him I was able to sort things out without going to the hotel, and that Mao’s Daughter was going to be released and I’d keep getting support.”

  “All that is true.”

  “I didn’t mention your involvement.”

  “He didn’t press you for details about how you made it happen?”

  “He tried to, but I was evasive.”

  “Are you worried about what might happen with him?”

  “Even if things have worked out for me, I don’t want harm to come to him or his business,” Fai said. “I may not like him that much, but it isn’t that easy to separate myself from what he’s done for me in the past.”

  “He’ll call eventually, and when he does, I’m sure it will be to report good news,” Ava said. “In the meantime, let’s talk about tomorrow. I should have a free day, and if I do, what’s the one thing you’d recommend I see?”

  “There’s the Forbidden City, the Palace Museum, and other places like that near here. But they’re always so crowded, and everyone is pushing and shoving.”

  “Okay, if we don’t want to be among crowds, what does that leave?”

  “I love the Great Wall. Have you seen it?”

  “No.”

  “I went to parts of it when I was on location for a couple of films. I particularly liked the section at Huanghuacheng. It’s built along the sides of mountains, and you look down on a lake from the summit. There’s a chestnut orchard at the base of the wall that’s supposed to be five hundred years old, and south of Huanghua town there’s a mausoleum built by one of the emperors that’s now one of the famous Ming tombs.”

  “How far is it from Beijing?”

  “Maybe an hour by taxi.”

  “And no crowds?”

  “Huanghuacheng isn’t really one of those touristy parts of the wall. The walkway on top is slanted and really steep in some places. It’s hard to walk along. You’d need to wear your running shoes.”

  “How far could we walk?”

  “The wall is six thousand kilometres long.”

  “I know,” Ava said and laughed.

  “What I’m saying is that you can go as far as you want.”

  “It sounds like a perfect way to spend a day, as long as it’s not raining,” Ava said. Then she yawned so suddenly she didn’t have time to cover her mouth.

  “I’m ready for bed if you are,” Fai said.

  “I am tired.”

  “It’s been a long, emotional day.”

  “One that turned out well.”

  “I’d feel a bit more confident about that if Chen felt the same way,” Fai said.

  “Then phone him.”

  Fai nodded but then hesitated before reaching for the phone.

  Ava wondered if her presence in the kitchen was the reason for Fai’s reluctance. “Would you prefer it if I left?” she said.

  “No, stay.”

  Ava watched Fai hit speed-dial and then deliberately turned towards the kitchen window, looking out into the wet lamp-lit courtyard.

  Fai said, “Chen, it’s me. I was wondering how it went with Mo tonight.”

  Ava’s attention flitted between Fai and the window. For several minutes Fai was tense and quiet as she listened to Chen. It seemed longer than that to Ava, but as the conversation continued she saw Fai’s tension ease and stopped worrying about what kind of story Chen was spinning.

  “Is everything okay?” Ava asked when Fai put down her phone.

  “According to Chen it couldn’t have gone much better. We’re back on track. He said he’s rarely found Mo so pleasant and co-operative.”

  “I’m glad he’s doing the right thing.”

  “Even if it is for the wrong reason.”

  “You remember me telling you that?”

  “Specifically you said people always do the right thing for the wrong reason. It stuck with me.”

  “I know it sounds cynical, but it is true.”

  “Do you think I’m cynical?”

  “What?”

  “Do you think I’m sleeping with you, telling you that I love you, only because I need your help?”

  “No,” Ava said, taken aback by the question. “It never occurred to me, but maybe that’s just my ego at work. And besides, you didn’t need my help until I arrived in Beijing.”

  “How do you know that for certain?”

  “I don
’t.”

  “So you’re putting that much trust in me?”

  “I am.”

  Fai closed her eyes and reached blindly across the table for Ava’s hands. “I love my career. I was born to act and I never want to stop doing it. But what that means is that I’ve spent my entire adult life in an industry where no one trusts anyone, where everything is spun and exaggerated, and where ultimately the only interest that matters is self-interest. Letting go of that mindset isn’t going to be easy, but I promise you I’ll try.”

  ( 21 )

  It was dark by the time their taxi found its way back to the hutong from Huanghuacheng and the Great Wall. It had been an unusual day for Ava. It was the first time she and Fai had spent that much time in public as a couple, and there had been some awkward moments as they tried to figure out how much intimacy could be on display. If they’d been in Canada Ava wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but given that Fai might be recognized — even though she was wearing sunglasses and a cap — and the general Chinese tendency towards homophobia, they had been cautious.

  What had made the day odder still was that Ava had no access to a cellphone. She had brought hers but had forgotten to charge it the night before, something she didn’t notice until she tried to turn it on when they were more than halfway to Huanghuacheng. When she asked Fai if she could borrow hers, she discovered that Fai hadn’t bothered to bring it. This left Ava out of touch with her world. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in that situation, and for the first hour or so at Huanghuacheng she felt anxious. She knew there was no real basis for her anxiety other than the perception that she had somehow lost control. Control of what? she asked herself, and began to calm down. After an hour of walking along the top of the Great Wall, the calmness had taken a firm hold.

  Her initial reaction to the wall itself was disappointment. At about seven metres it wasn’t nearly as high as she’d expected, but after she climbed the stone stairway and reached the top, her appreciation began to grow. The wall was approximately six metres wide at its base and five metres wide at the top. Its sheer mass was formidable, and looking down from the ramparts, it seemed even more imposing. But it wasn’t until she gazed in either direction and saw it snaking around mountains for as far as she could see that she realized how forbidding it must have appeared to invaders. There was nowhere to attack that couldn’t be defended.

  There was a large group of tourists at the entrance point. Ava listened as their guide briefed them in English about the wall’s six-hundred-year history and its two-hundred-year construction. The guide made the wall seem like a testament to perseverance rather than to military foresight or architectural brilliance. Ava wondered who had written the script.

  “Let’s get away from this crowd,” Fai said. She pointed to the left, where the wall rose haphazardly towards a mountain and there were fewer walkers in sight. “We can get a terrific view of the town and the lake from up there.”

  As close as the mountain appeared, they walked for almost an hour along the wall path before reaching its base. The path required concentration to navigate. It was paved in bricks that rose and fell haphazardly, while the path itself veered erratically left and right, but always uphill. As a result, Ava was mostly watching where she was walking rather than looking at the scenery.

  Their walk took them through several sentinels, or watchtowers, where the tourists tended to congregate. But the farther they went, the fewer tourists there were; by the time they stopped in the middle of a long run of wall, they were the only people in the vicinity. Fai leaned against the rampart and stared at the lake and the mountain. “In the summer this entire area is carpeted in yellow flowers,” she said. “That’s where the town gets its name, Yellow Flower City.”

  “I like the way older Chinese cultures weren’t afraid to state the obvious,” Ava said as she slipped her arm around Fai’s waist.

  Fai pressed close. “Now everything is so coded. Words have no real meaning on their own. I can’t tell you how many times the most innocuous phrase in a script is branded as unpatriotic because of some off-the-wall interpretation.”

  Ava glanced sideways. Fai was looking straight ahead, her face in profile. She wasn’t wearing makeup; her lips were pale and her eyes naked, and her skin looked almost translucent. There wasn’t a wrinkle or a blemish anywhere on her face. Fai looked almost girlish, and that made Ava feel her own years — years of experience rather than calendar time. She wondered if Fai measured her life in terms of films made in the same way that Ava calculated hers in terms of jobs completed. A job might last for a few days or a few weeks, but every one of them took its toll.

  “What are you looking at?” Fai asked suddenly, turning her head.

  “You. I’ve never seen anyone quite so beautiful.”

  “You aren’t half bad yourself, you know,” Fai said, laughing. “Besides, my mother always said that beauty is what beauty does, and that makes you the real princess in our universe.”

  “Beauty is what beauty does?” Ava said.

  “My mother is full of sentiments like that. They’re substitutes for her inability to express real emotions or thoughts.”

  “More code?”

  “In a way.”

  “My mother says things like that as well, but when you really stop to think about it, some of them make real sense.”

  “That’s what I always tell her — whether I think they do or not.”

  “You’re a good daughter.”

  “Not so much, but I’m better than I was,” Fai said.

  “I am too,” Ava said. “For years I resented my mother for the way she lived her life — you know, being a part-time wife, which made my father part-time as well — and for having no sense about money management. I hated her gambling and the fact that she never planned for the future. Then one day I looked at her and I saw a different woman. She hadn’t changed, but I had. I realized I have a mother who would sacrifice everything she has — without a second thought — for her children, and who accepts us and loves us for exactly who we are. It’s all so unconditional and so absolute.”

  “Did she always know you’re gay?”

  “I never hid it, but it’s something we never discussed directly. I think it was enough for both of us that she knew and that I knew she knew — if that makes any sense,” Ava said. “All she wants is for me to be happy.”

  “Has she met any of your girlfriends?”

  “Yes. She always got along quite well with them, but again in an arm’s-length sort of way,” Ava said. “Are you worried about how your parents would react if you told them?”

  “I don’t think it would make any difference to them in terms of me. But they’d probably be worried about how others would treat me,” Fai said. She looked down onto the deep blue lake. “Will you come to Yantai with me?”

  Ava was caught off guard by the question, which immediately generated more questions in her head. She put those aside and said, “Of course.”

  “I don’t mean right away,” Fai said. “But eventually, when I’m ready to tell them about me, about us. They aren’t complicated people and they haven’t travelled much. Their world is inside the walls of their house in Yantai. I would find it difficult to explain my feelings to them in the abstract. It would be so much easier if you were with me and I could simply say, ‘This is the woman I love.’”

  “Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

  “Soon enough, I think,” Fai said. She took a deep breath and then shook her head. “I find it hard to believe that we’re only an hour from Beijing. The air here is so completely different.”

  “And look how blue the lake is.”

  “When I was here for the film shoot, the director told me that the local government pumps blue dye into it.”

  “Well, they can’t pump anything into the air.” Ava laughed and looked up into the sky. “But there
are rainclouds gathering. Shall we walk some more before they empty themselves on us?”

  ( 22 )

  The rain held off until late in the afternoon. By then Ava figured they’d walked off and on for four hours, and as fit as she was, the uneven pathway had taken a toll on her legs. She was pleased to call it a day when the sky turned from dull grey to almost black and the prospect of rain became certain. She and Fai were close to Huanghuacheng by then and scurried into the town to find a taxi. They were just climbing into one when the downpour began. Sheets of rain, driven by a suddenly emerging strong wind, lashed against the windows.

  “Perfect timing,” Ava said.

  “I was going to suggest that we visit the Ming tombs, but not in this weather,” Fai said.

  “I’ve had enough walking for one day anyway. My legs ache,” Ava said. “How come you don’t seem the least bit tired?”

  “I’ve always had the ability to walk for miles and miles. I have no idea where it comes from. When I first moved to Beijing, I spent every Sunday walking around the city. It was a good way to learn about it. I saw my first hutongs then and fell in love with them, although I never imagined I’d have a chance to live in one.”

  “Does walking make you as hungry as it makes me?”

  “I’m starving, but there aren’t many restaurants around here.”

  “Can you wait until we get back to Beijing?”

  “No problem,” Fai said, and told the driver to head for the city.

  The rain eased as they reached Beijing’s outskirts, and it had stopped entirely by the time the taxi pulled up at the entrance to the hutong.

  “Where do you want to eat?” Ava asked.

  “There’s a place called the Hai Wan Canteen a couple of streets from here that I really like,” Fai said rather hesitantly. “It isn’t fancy, but it may have the best zhajiang noodles in Beijing.”

  “I don’t care if it’s fancy as long as the food is good,” Ava said. “I have an urge for hot and sour soup. Would they have that?”