6 for 1 (59) Invitation

The summer in Shanghai is particularly long and lingering. The drizzly spring days pass in a fleeting moment, and then the sultry, humid summer descends in full force.

On a Sunday afternoon, several workers were installing a telephone in Tan Yang’s office. Her desk was occupied, so she sat on the sofa by the window, sorting through medical records. From time to time, a thread of breeze slipped through the window behind her—not cool, but comfortable, like a child’s little finger brushing gently down one's back.

Two brisk knocks sounded at the door, and before Tan Yang could respond, the door swung open. Fang Ya leaned against the threshold, smiling brightly at Tan Yang. “Director Yang, I’ve caught a cold and came to you for some medicine!”

Tan Yang smiled, set aside the medical records, and stood up. “Let’s go to the clinic, I’ll listen to your lungs and check your throat.”

Fang Ya quickly shook her head. “No, no, no! I didn’t come for a proper doctor. I came to you because I wanted to avoid all that fuss. Just give me some medicine, anything will do.”

Tan Yang frowned helplessly. “You can’t take medicine carelessly. And why do you think I’m not a proper doctor?”

Fang Ya replied teasingly, “Seeing you for a consultation is hardly proper. I don’t want to take off my clothes for you to examine me—just thinking about it gives me goosebumps! I’d rather see a male doctor I don’t know; as long as he’s not too old or ugly, I wouldn’t mind undressing!”

As she spoke, Fang Ya absently dusted off her brand-new dress, a primrose yellow cheongsam embroidered with gold thread, overlaid with a sheer layer of chiffon, reminiscent of early spring mountains shrouded in morning mist, exuding lazy vitality.

Tan Yang admired Fang Ya’s dress and praised, “Sister Fang Ya, your cheongsam is truly beautiful!”

Fang Ya glanced proudly at herself. “You have good taste! It’s just back from the tailor, the latest style this year!” She looked at Tan Yang. “But you—your cheongsam is last year’s style. You really don’t care about yourself anymore.”

Tan Yang lowered her head and laughed softly. In the past, every season the tailor would come to measure her, delivering several fashionable garments. At first, Tan Yang didn’t wear them—the luxurious flair wasn’t to her liking. She asked someone to tell the tailor not to make any more for her. Still, the clothes continued to arrive, but now the colors and styles suited her tastes; Tan Yang realized that Bi Qingtang must have approved them. Occasionally, she would buy clothes herself, but most often it was at Bi Qingtang’s urging. He always said, “A woman should treat herself well, and the first step is to dress herself well!”

Lost in thought, Tan Yang barely noticed Fang Ya coming over to her. Fang Ya touched Tan Yang’s casually pinned long hair and said, “You should get your hair permed! Honestly!” There was obvious affection and concern in her words, warming and stinging Tan Yang’s heart.

Fang Ya pulled Tan Yang out of the hospital to the tailor, and together they ordered four or five cheongsams. Fang Ya enthusiastically chose the fabric colors—besides Tan Yang’s usual greens, blues, and yellows, they ordered begonia red and lotus pink. Fang Ya lectured Tan Yang, “A woman’s greatest pride is earning her own money to buy flowers to wear. Earn money, wear flowers!” She added, “That old saying needs changing: it’s not ‘a woman dresses for those who admire her,’ it’s ‘a woman dresses for herself.’ Dress up for your own happiness—the money’s yours, no need to please others, pleasing yourself is enough!” Tan Yang savored her words, finding the sentiment crooked but the reasoning sound.

After ordering the clothes, it was already dinnertime, but Fang Ya dragged Tan Yang, hungry, to get her hair permed. The salon they went to was one of the most fashionable spots on the Shanghai Bund, with lavish European décor, golden wall lamps mounted on large glass mirrors. The reflection made them look like amber wine in crystal goblets, glowing warmly. The hot curling tongs circled their heads, the weather was stifling, and the attendants fanned them diligently. Tan Yang and Fang Ya sat side by side, keeping their heads still, so they sat straight and upright. Though they gazed ahead, they could see each other in the mirror and chat as usual.

“Yang Yang, my birthday is next Wednesday!”

“Is that so? Let me wish you a happy birthday in advance.”

“Guess how old I’ll be? I’ll give you a hint—it’s a round number.”

“Forty? You really don’t look it!”

“Haha, you’re just teasing me. I was forty five years ago. I’m older than Qingtang, remember?”

Tan Yang heard her mention Bi Qingtang again and didn’t know how to respond, so she just smiled. Fang Ya continued, “I’m planning a dance party Wednesday night. You must come!”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why? Are you afraid Qingtang will be there? He won’t, he’s busy with the silk factory, and his daughter occupies him at night. He has no time for socializing! He sent me a big golden peach this morning; I called him to complain about how tacky it was, and he said, ‘common things for common folk.’ I’m so annoyed, I won’t bother with him for a while.”

“No, Sister Fang Ya, I truly don’t want to go.”

Fang Ya glared at her, about to turn her head but was yanked by the curling tongs, grimacing in pain. “Yang Yang, what’s the matter with you? Have some backbone! You studied so much, all those grand theories about freedom and independence you shouted about in school, but without Bi Qingtang you can’t live? No new clothes, no hair perms, no socializing. Even widows in the old days couldn’t be as devoted as you!”

“Sister Fang Ya!” Tan Yang interrupted.

Seeing Tan Yang was upset, Fang Ya smiled and fell silent. After a while, she gently said, “Yang Yang, I talk like this, but it’s only for your sake. You’re not even twenty-seven, you can’t just go on living so lifelessly. Besides, I’ve invited a lot of people to the party, including some ladies who’ve studied abroad—I’ll need your help. Please come, alright?” Tan Yang said nothing, but Fang Ya smiled, “That means you’re coming! Remember, Wednesday night, come early, and bring the most elegant birthday gift you can find!” Since Fang Ya insisted, Tan Yang agreed.

Tan Yang took the time to paint an ink landscape and had it mounted to give to Fang Ya, inscribing it with, “Clear waters worry not, but are wrinkled by the wind; green mountains never age, but are whitened by snow.” She felt now that a lifetime of wishes fulfilled and immortality were nothing but fantasies—if one could fret freely and grow old openly, it would be a fine thing in itself.

On Wednesday evening, Tan Yang headed to Fang Ya’s house with the painting. She had planned to go early and leave early, but as she was about to depart, Hu Liancheng came to see her. He told Tan Yang that the coroner now had time and left the coroner’s home number for her to contact him.

Seeing Tan Yang was about to go out, Hu Liancheng asked where she was headed. When she told him, he laughed, “Miss Fang’s birthday—I must pay my respects! Let’s go together, I’ve brought the car.” Knowing he and Fang Ya were friends, Tan Yang agreed.

Hu Liancheng hurriedly picked up a birthday gift for Fang Ya at the department store, then drove with Tan Yang to her house. As they entered the garden, Tan Yang saw both sides of the path lined with oleander bushes, blooming with brilliant pink flowers, clustered together like a fiery sunset.

Fang Ya always said that Old Master Bi loved oleanders most. Though he was gone, she wanted the flowers to bloom in riotous red. What she didn’t know was that Bi Qingtang had told Tan Yang the real lover of oleanders was his mother; Old Master Bi cherished them in memory of his late wife. In the past, Tan Yang always pitied Fang Ya for not knowing the truth; now, she thought, understanding and ignorance each have their virtues. The Bi residence on Fuxu Road was planted with two rows of oleanders as well. Tan Yang imagined they must be blooming as splendidly now.

Tan Yang wanted to bring cheer to Fang Ya’s birthday, so she wore the new begonia-red Shu embroidery cheongsam, with a light pink chiffon overlay. Fearing a cool evening, she draped an ivory silk shawl and carried a white clutch adorned with silver beads and sequins. Her newly permed hair cascaded to her waist, glossy and black, clipped on each side with pearl and crystal barrettes. The hairstyle and accessories complemented her wavy curls perfectly, blending elegance and charm, and Tan Yang’s naturally refined demeanor gave the bold color a gentle harmony that others could not manage. Dressed like this, she was strikingly beautiful, dazzling all who saw her.

The moment Tan Yang entered, Fang Ya spotted her and exclaimed, “Yang Yang, you’re too much! You’re dressed so beautifully, are you here to steal my spotlight?”

Tan Yang handed her the painting scroll, murmuring, “Sister Fang Ya, don’t tease me—remember, you chose this dress for me!”

Fang Ya laughed as she took the painting. “Oh my, you’re not giving me a painting by Wang Xizhi and a calligraphy by Zheng Banqiao for my birthday, are you? Truly elegant gifts!”

“Wang Xizhi? Zheng Banqiao?” Seeing Tan Yang’s confusion, Fang Ya leaned in and whispered, “Those are the only two famous names I know! I just mention them to sound cultured!”

Hu Liancheng parked the car and entered, carrying a gift box and wishing Fang Ya a happy birthday politely. Fang Ya turned, surprised, her smile freezing on her face. Hu Liancheng explained, “Tan said it’s your birthday, so I came to join the festivities. I hope you don’t mind, Miss Fang.”

Fang Ya, ever the socialite, quickly regained her composure. “It’s a delight to have you here! I didn’t dare invite you, afraid you wouldn’t come and I’d be embarrassed.” She glanced at Tan Yang and murmured, “I’m just surprised you came together.”

Hu Liancheng stepped forward with a smile of satisfaction. “Miss Fang, perhaps you don’t know: Tan and I have known each other since Germany. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to help her—she’d never ask me herself!” Fang Ya’s eyebrow twitched at this, and after glancing around to ensure no one overheard, she relaxed and said, “I have some things to attend to. You two make yourselves comfortable.” With that, she hurried away.

The hall was crowded and warm. Tan Yang wanted to remove her shawl, and Hu Liancheng, in the manner of a gentleman from their days studying abroad, quickly helped her take it off. Tan Yang thought nothing of it, thanked him, and he folded the shawl carefully, offering to put it away for her. Fang Ya, not far away, saw this and suddenly felt overwhelmed, frowning and heading upstairs.

In the upstairs bedroom, Fang Ya shut the door tightly, anxiously dialed the phone, then covered the receiver and spoke with difficulty, nervously explaining herself. Moments later, a deafening shout came through the receiver. Fang Ya, unprepared, felt as though a needle had pierced her eardrum, stabbing her brain with pain. She quickly held the receiver away, and as she turned, her gaze landed on Old Master Bi’s photograph on the dressing table. Suddenly angered, she shouted back into the phone.

“You impudent creature! Since when do you get to scold me? However incompetent I might be, I’m still your elder! Do you think I’m eager to help you? Who was it smoking in my study all last week? When I asked, you stubbornly refused to admit it. If it weren’t for your rare request and for your late father’s sake, I wouldn’t bother with this mess! Help you? You brought this trouble on yourself—call it retribution. Help you? I’d rather not offend Yang Yang!”

With that, Fang Ya slammed the phone down. Still fuming, she dialed again and said with malicious glee, “Well, I suppose it’s my fault for not handling things properly. Don’t bother coming tonight—out of sight, out of mind. Other couples are happily together; no need to add to your frustration…”

Author’s Note: This story entered VIP status on May 17, 2013, starting with Chapter 38 (36) “A Thousand Gold.” If you’ve already read it, don’t buy it again—don’t waste your money. I hope everyone will support me, thank you.

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