LC chapter 47

 

Shanghai was completely different from Beijing. The hustle and glamour far exceeded Lin Ruan’s imagination. The architecture was unlike the courtyard houses of Beijing. Shanghai’s buildings came in all kinds of styles: British, Greek, and Gothic styles stood alongside one another along the wide streets, combining to create a uniquely captivating atmosphere.

Outside these grand areas, narrow, long alleys were full of ordinary daily life: residents cooling off in the summer heat, children running about, steam rising from hot water in the winter, and the jingle of bicycle bells. These ordinary scenes were an inseparable part of the city’s backdrop.

This is Lin Ruan’s sixteenth month in Shanghai.

Shanghai seemed to have no autumn; winter came in an instant. Fallen leaves covered the ground, silent underfoot because they were damp. At such times, Lin Ruan thought of the winters in Beijing, when dry leaves made a crisp sound when stepped on.

The hardest thing for Lin Ruan to adapt to was Shanghai’s winter. The cold seeped into everything, wet and chilling, sticking to the skin.

Lin Ruan wrapped his coat tighter and turned into an alley. He rented a room on the second floor of a house on Ping’an Alley. The window faced the sun, and ivy grew thickly beneath the windowsill.

He pushed the door open. The family that rented out the place was an older couple named Zhao. Their son, who was close to Lin Ruan’s age, had been drafted to the front lines several months ago.

The courtyard had potted plants in the corners and a yellow lamp by the door. Hearing the noise, Mrs. Zhao stepped out, wrapped in a shawl.

“It’s you, Ah Ruan,” she said softly.

Southern accents have a unique charm. In the old days, people called them “Wu Nong ruan yu,”[mfn]“吴侬软语 (Wú Nóng ruǎn yǔ)” literally means “the soft speech of the Wu people”[/mfn] —gentle and soothing to listen to.

“Yes, it’s me,” said Lin Ruan as he entered. Mrs. Zhao, a middle-aged woman who had lost her only son to the military, had gone noticeably gray in the short time since he left.

“Are you still checking for news from the north?” Mrs. Zhao asked.

Lin Ruan nodded. He had come to Shanghai in June of last year and spent three months getting settled. Just when things seemed to be on track, war broke out unexpectedly.

Initially, Shanghai, located at the rear, was less affected, but soon communication between the north and south was cut off. Trains were requisitioned for military use, leaving Lin Ruan stranded.

“Maybe you should check the docks,” Mrs. Zhao suggested. “Mr. Liu said a ship would pass by soon this morning.”

Lin Ruan took note. “It’s so cold. You should get some rest. I’ll head upstairs,” he said.

Mrs. Zhao nodded. “It’s been dangerous lately. Gunfire can be heard everywhere at night. Make sure to come back before dark next time.”

“I know,” Lin Ruan replied as he headed upstairs.

He entered his room, which was a small space containing a bed, a cabinet, and a desk beneath the window. A few books and a desk lamp sat on the table.

Lin Ruan set his belongings down and pulled out paper to write a letter.

It was a letter he could not send. Communication between the north and south had been cut off for six months, and he had long lost contact with Zhan Xi.

After Lin Ruan left for the south, Zhan Xi had left the country alone. Shining remained behind to take care of Tong Bo and the Lan Mansion while Zhan Xi traveled abroad. He was still the famous international businessman with a reputation that even Lin Ruan in Shanghai had heard of.

Beyond that, Lin Ruan had no more news. Zhan Xi moved from country to country—today in America, tomorrow possibly in Russia. Later, when the war began, Lin Ruan could not receive letters from the Lan Mansion.

The war had reached its final stages. The frontlines were collapsing, and the southern military would soon retreat to Shanghai.

Shanghai was already chaotic.

Lin Ruan had not finished writing his letter when the light flickered twice and went out. Frequent power and water outages made it seem as if the city’s resources were depleted. Lin Ruan could only put away his writing and go to sleep.

The next morning, he was awakened by the sound of gunfire. When he opened the window, cold air and the echoes of gunshots rushed in. He sighed, feeling almost accustomed to it.

After washing up and greeting Mr. and Mrs. Zhao, Lin Ruan headed out.

He had arranged to meet someone at a teahouse. Upon arriving, he saw a slightly overweight, middle-aged man in a suit and overcoat, holding a cup of hot tea and seated by the window.

Lin Ruan approached and sat across from him. The man greeted him, “Young Boss.” He was a comprador from the north and an old acquaintance of Lin Ruan’s. He was reliable and experienced.

“I heard a ship will be passing through Shanghai. Can you get a ticket?” Lin Ruan asked.

“There is a ship, but you know how chaotic it is now. Many want to escape, so tickets are hard to get,” the comprador said.

Lin Ruan lowered his head and sipped his tea. “Money isn’t the problem.”

The comprador laughed wryly. “Money is useless these days. It’s everywhere. What matters are connections.”

Lin Ruan slowly said, “I also have gold. What matters most is the ticket.”

The man’s expression brightened. “Don’t worry. As long as you have the goods, I can handle it! But…”

Lin Ruan handed over a fine cigarette. The man immediately recognized the hidden gold and hurriedly pocketed it.

Lin Ruan nodded and left. Zhan Xi had prepared a lot for Lin Ruan before he left for the south, especially money. However, Lin Ruan found work in Shanghai that was sufficient to sustain himself, leaving Zhan Xi’s money untouched. The gold bars and silver coins that Zhan Xi had left behind proved his foresight; only a small portion were banknotes.

Lin Ruan later found another comprador, wary of putting all his trust in one person.

By noon, he had checked his silver pocket watch, stroked its Latin inscription on the back, and put it away before heading to his teacher’s house.

His teacher, Mr. Hua, was a renowned architect who had invited Lin Ruan to study in Shanghai. Mr. Hua treated Lin Ruan like family.

Mr. Hua and his wife were from Sichuan and had settled in Shanghai. They had many students, but only one daughter: Hua Ying, who was younger than Lin Ruan.

They discussed the decision to leave Shanghai with Lin Ruan, but he made the primary decision. There was no other way. The couple was too old, and Hua Ying had been pampered and raised without much influence.

Lin Ruan knocked. Hua Ying answered the door. She was young and wore a sapphire blue velvet dress. Her hair was slightly curled and held in place with a pearl hairpin. She smiled warmly. “Lin Ruan-gege, come in.”

Mr. Hua and his family lived in an old, small, two-story Western-style house with red brick walls. Pigeons often perched in the attic.

Inside, Mrs. Hua had prepared a meal. Mr. Hua, carrying the dishes, greeted Lin Ruan cheerfully.

Lin Ruan relaxed slightly in the familiar surroundings as he sat at the table. Hua Ying served him soup.

“Thank you,” Lin Ruan said.

“You’re always so polite,” said Hua Ying, smiling.

Lin Ruan turned to Mr. Hua. “I heard a ship will dock the day after tomorrow. I’ve arranged the ticket. If nothing goes wrong, I’ll leave then.”

Mr. Hua nodded. “Good, that’s good.”

Hua Ying pouted. “Why leave Shanghai? It’s perfect here.”

Unlike the Hua couple and Lin Ruan, she had been in Shanghai since birth. Sichuan was Mr. Hua’s hometown and Beijing was Lin Ruan’s.

Mrs. Hua gently tapped her daughter’s head. “Don’t talk so much.”

Hua Ying pouted, then asked, “Lin Ruan-gege, what’s Beijing City like? Why do you miss it so much?”

“Of course,” Lin Ruan smiled. “It’s where my lover is.”

The vast blue ocean stretched to the horizon, blending seamlessly with the sky. A freighter slowly moved across the water. Its deck was full of blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners who were busy going about their business.

“Two more days until we reach the port of Shanghai,” one foreigner said in English.

The man sitting in the blue velvet chair with his legs crossed and his fingers twitching slightly asked, “Have we found the person I’m looking for?”

“Sorry, sir,” the foreigner replied. “Shanghai is in chaos. Finding a single person in such a huge city is almost impossible.”

Zhan Xi’s eyes darkened. “Send more people. Keep searching.”

“Yes.” The foreigner asked.
“When the ship docks, will you allow the locals to come aboard?” Many people are hoping to use it as a way to leave Shanghai.”

Zhan Xi nodded casually. The ship wasn’t carrying much cargo. Since domestic routes were blocked, Zhan Xi had to find a way to handle it by sea.

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