Don't cry Tai lake

background. Next to it stood the celebrated Seventh Heaven, a notorious dance hall back in the pre-1949 era. After 1949, it was turned into the Shanghai Number One Pharmacy Store, but nowadays, it had reverted back to its original function as a nightclub attached to a hotel, though it was no longer that notorious. Nor as classy as its original name suggested. The seven-story building was now dwarfed by all the new surrounding high-rises.

At the edge of the square, there was a somewhat fashionable teahouse, so they went over and took a table outside. No one would pay much attention to a middle-aged couple sitting at a teahouse.

Yu ordered a cup of Lion Hill tea and Peiqin, a bowl of white almond tofu.

“I wouldn’t have the pleasure of sitting with you here if it weren’t for your boss’s request,” she said in mock peevishness.

“After Chen comes back, I will also request vacation time-a whole week. And I’ll sit here with you just like today, every day, all day, if that’s what you really want, Peiqin.”

“No, I’m not complaining. You don’t have to envy your boss’s vacation. True, his may be an all-expenses-paid vacation with all the privileges of a high-ranking cadre, but does he have someone sitting beside him there, looking over that beautiful lake?”

“One can never tell what Chen is up to,” Yu said. “What he has asked us to look into today, I suppose, may have something to do with that girl, the one who is connected to the man in trouble. It might possibly even be a murder case.”

“That’s true,” she said with a low sigh.

“Do you like the area?” Yu asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, but for me, it might be more because of nostalgia. When I was still a small girl, back in the neighborhood we just visited, I sometimes passed by the Seventh Heaven, which then loomed up so high, seemed so unreachable, to me.”

Sipping at the Lion Hill tea, Yu glanced back at the pedestrian street, which seemed to not have changed as dramatically as much of the rest of the city. Several of the old-brand stores remained standing there, though even those had been refurbished.

In the square, a group of people began dancing to music that blared from a cassette player on the ground. A middle-aged, bald man, apparently the leader, dressed in an old sweat-drenched T-shirt with the character Dance printed on the front and in white silk pants with flared legs, danced intently, earnestly. For him, his green belt streaming in the breeze, the movement of the moment seemed to carry the meaning of the world. Across the square, another group was practicing tai chi, striking one pose after another, like floating clouds or flowing water. Continuing to look around the square, Yu then noticed something else going on across the street.

Two young girls, probably only seventeen or eighteen, were approaching a stoutly built Westerner, pointing at the hotel sign. China had been changing so rapidly and radically, it was like the proverb his father, Old Hunter, liked to quote: changing as if from the azure ocean into a mulberry field.

“I can hardly remember what the store was that used to be where the hotel is now,” Peiqin said, following his gaze.

“It was just a stationery store, as I remember,” Yu said.

Apart from the scene unfolding in front of the hotel, sitting there, drinking, relaxing, and looking around was pleasant.

“The only place that looks unchanged is Sheng’s Restaurant. At least the name is the same. And the outside as well.”

“Nanjing Road is no longer the busiest, most important street in the city, but then the city itself has always seemed young and vital, always with young people moving in and out,” Peiqin said, sipping at her drink, “and around here new stores, hotels, and restaurants are springing up.”

It was Yu’s turn to follow her glance to another new hotel, this one near Fujian Road. It was a high-end one built in the European style. He must have walked by it a number of times, but he never thought about going in. As Yu watched, a Big Buck emerged from the revolving door of the hotel, turned and blew a kiss to someone inside, a large diamond ring shining like a dream on his finger.

“Oh, the stock market,” Peiqin exclaimed, as if suddenly inspired, “We don’t know any businesspeople, but Chen does. Remember, he knows a Big Buck called Mr. Gu whose company, New World Group, is in the market.”

“That’s right. I met him once during an investigation. He helped us, claiming to be an admirer of Chen’s. He’ll help out again, I think, if I let him know that the information is for Chen.”

Yu was taking out his cell phone when Peiqin touched his elbow.

“Hold on. He’s coming-they are coming out.”

Fu was walking out with the girl. Instead of parting outside the hotel, they started strolling around, her arm locked in his. They walked across the street to the Yongan Department Store, another old building from the pre- 1949 days, newly redecorated from the inside out.

An elderly African man in a white suit had stepped out onto a white balcony on the third floor of Yongan and was playing the trumpet like in an old movie. His performance soon drew a crowd of people, including Fu and his girl.

His cell phone still in his hand, Yu seized the opportunity to quietly take pictures of the two without their knowledge. Even if they had noticed, it was common for people to take photos in the area around Nangjing Road.

It wasn’t what Chen had asked him to do, but it couldn’t hurt. Besides, it wasn’t a bad idea to have a few photos of the street. Nanjing Road was changing at such a rapid pace that in a couple of years, he and Peiqin wouldn’t be able to recognize it.

As Yu watched, the couple under the balcony were parting. They hugged passionately several times.

“We should be parting too,” Peiqin said, looking up at him, “if you want me to follow the woman.”

“No, I don’t see the point,” Yu said.

However odd the hotel episode might have appeared, he couldn’t think how it could be relevant to Chen’s investigation. Later, he might check in with Wei, the neighborhood cop. That should be more than enough.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s Saturday. Let’s do some shopping now, Peiqin. And then I’ll call that woman, Bai, one more time.”

FOURTEEN

On Saturday morning, Shanshan awoke with both her eyelids twitching. It was another ominous sign, she thought, as she tried to remember the horrible dream that was fast fading.

She reached for the watch under the pillow. It wasn’t yet eight. Lying back on the bed, she tried to go over in her mind what had happened in the last few days.

She glanced over at the china saucer used as an ashtray during Chen’s unexpected visit the other day, her finger tapping the edge of the bed, unconciously, the same way that Chen tapped his cigarette. As if through mysterious correspondence, the scarlet cell phone that Chen had bought her started to vibrate.

She picked it up and, when she’d answered, heard his voice.

“Morning, Shanshan. I woke up this morning thinking of you.”

“Thank you for waking me up with the great news,” she said, then added in a hurry, rubbing her eyes, “Oh, I’m just kidding.”

“I’m standing at the window, holding my first cup of coffee for the day. The view is fantastic. I wish you were here with me at this moment. ‘Don’t lean on the railing, alone-/ with the boundless view of waters and mountains.’”

“How romantic of you! I’ll think about your invitation,” she said, suddenly aware of footsteps moving along the corridor and then coming to a stop outside her door. It might be one of her neighbors in the dorm, where young people, many of them single like her, would sometimes borrow sugar or salt from each other. “One of my neighbors might be at my door.”