The Trail to Buddha's Mirror - Don Winslow [121]
The old nun left it up to me. She said that they would do their best to hide me, if that was my wish. I was so torn! I loved my life on the mountain and I loved my father. I wanted to be away from the cares of the world, but I wanted to help Father’s reforms. I prayed to Kuan Yin, but I knew the answer. Father would never stop, and I could not hurt the people who had rescued me, given me a shelter and a home. I went down the mountain with the monk and turned myself over to the soldiers. But it broke my heart to say good-bye to the mountain I loved so much.
I was overjoyed to see Father again, but there was great sadness between us. Mother’s death, my sister’s betrayal. I asked Father if he had found her. When he didn’t answer, I became frightened. I asked again. Finally he said yes, he had found her—she was dead. She had been killed in the fighting at the Chengdu factory. Now I was the only daughter, he said, and I had to live for both.
Then Father surprised me. He said I must leave China. He had lost all his family to China, except me, and he couldn’t stand the thought of losing me as well. He said I must go away until the country was safe to have a family. I argued, I cried, I begged, but Father was firm. I asked if I could go back to the mountain, but Father said that no place within China was safe. I must go away.
We spent but a few days together. Then we said good-bye and I was taken secretly to Guangzhou and put aboard a junk. I was smuggled into Hong Kong much the way you were smuggled out. I was put onshore at the typhoon shelter at Yaumatei, and that neighborhood became my new home.
But how to live? Yaumatei was very dangerous for a single young woman without connections. But Father had seen to that. I was soon visited by a local 14K Triad member. I knew nothing about Triads then, but this man told me that 14K was closely allied with mainland China, that I did not have to worry about my safety. He gave me money to live on. I thought about what I wanted to do. All I knew to do was to paint, but I could not use my own name for fear of damaging Father. I took my mother’s name, Li, a very common one in China. And I did begin to paint. The freedom of Hong Kong was wonderful, and my painting began to thrive. I saw new possibilities, new forms, new colors. And there was no one watching over me to tell me what I could do or not do. I was lonely, but I was happy.
Then I met Robert. Robert had come on a holiday … let me see … two years ago? We met at the opening of a new office building where I had done murals. Robert’s company was doing business with a Hong Kong company, and—
Neal tightened his grip on her shoulder.
“Wait a second,” he said. “You met in Hong Kong? Not In San Francisco?”
“Hong Kong.”
“You told me San Francisco before.”
“Yes.”
“Are you lying now or were you lying before?” She covered his hand with hers. “I was not in bed with you before.”
“Was it love at first sight?” Neal asked. “With Pendleton?” She hesitated before answering, “For him.” Neal’s chest hurt. “But not for you?”
It seemed to take her about a week to answer, “No, not for me.” He was surprised to find himself using interrogation techniques with her, varying the pace of his questions, or using silences to hype her anxiety. Was it just habit, he wondered, or did he still consider her the adversary, this woman who was lying in his bed? He waited for her to go on.
“We were together perhaps one week,” she said, “before Robert had to go home. He was very sad to say good-bye, and I promised I would write.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, I promised! He wrote back, or sometimes telephoned. Then … I was contacted by a Triad leader. He had a message from Father. Father said that Robert’s knowledge would be very valuable to China.”
“I’ll bet.