Flower Net (Red Princess 1)

“Good evening, Vice Minister.”

He gave no sign of surprise at her decorous form of address.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes, I have, and I’m just on my way.”

“Surely you will drink tea.”

“Thank you for your graciousness. But truly, I must return home.”

They had had this precise conversation for many years now on those rare occasions when he had come home early or she had stayed too late. Hulan knew what would come next.

“Your mother would be honored if you stayed.”

No matter how long she might protest that she had eaten or had her tea or had a place to go, he would not rest until she had given in. Rather than fight, she shucked off her coat.

“Good,” he said. “You can help me with dinner.”

In the kitchen, counters gleamed under the glare of harsh overhead lights. Hulan’s father rolled up his sleeves and set to work peeling and chopping ginger and garlic. Hulan washed the rice until the water ran clear, then set it in a steamer decorated with pink peonies. Then she ran several heads of baby bok choy under water to rinse away dirt and any remnants of night soil. Later, Hulan watched silently as her father seared slivers of pork in a smoking wok. His hands moved quickly. The muscles of his forearms were taut as he effortlessly lifted the wok with its aromatic contents and poured them into a low serving dish.

In the dining room—so Western-contemporary with its chandelier, oval dinette set, and breakfront filled with Melmac dishes—Vice Minister Liu selected the most delectable morsels out of the main dish and put them into his wife’s bowl. As he raised his chopsticks to Jinli’s lips, he cleared his throat. Outside the pure stilted etiquette of their professional relationship, conversations between Hulan and her father always revolved around obedience and responsibility. For a modern man, a cadre with a fine revolutionary background, he betrayed a distinct adherence to Confucian beliefs.

“Hulan,” he began, “so many times I have asked you to come home and live with us.”

“Vice Minister, I do not consider this our home. I live in our real home.”

“That place is old. We are in a new era. Your true home is with your parents.” He jutted his chin out. “But you know this is not what I mean. I am talking about duty to your family.”

“Filial piety is one of the olds.”

“That is true. Mao did not believe in old ways. He had many mistresses and wives. When they had children, he did not hesitate to leave them with peasants in villages by the roadside. But Mao is dead. I do not need to tell you this.”

“No, you don’t, Vice Minister.”

“Family is a sanctuary. In China, there is no ambiguity about where we belong. Your mother and I are held together by our ancestors, as you are held to us as well as to your ancestors.”

“Baba.”

This break from the normal pattern caused her father to look her way.

Hulan took a breath and tried again. “Baba, I owe you and Mama a great debt for raising me. I know I can never repay you.” The meaning of her words was as clear to the vice minister as if she’d spoken them aloud. You taught me. You fed me and clothed me. In your lifetime, even if I were a son, I might not be able to repay that debt of obligation, of duty. But in your death, I would see to a proper burial. If I were a son, I would see that paper clothes and paper money were burned so that you might be rich in the afterlife. And each year, at Spring Festival, I would have my wife and daughters prepare you a whole chicken, a whole duck, a whole fish to symbolize unity and prosperity for the family. We would light incense for you. As your son I would chu xi, pay you back with interest for the gift of life. But I am only a daughter.

“A daughter is not such a bad thing,” her father said, slipping the wrinkled form of a tree ear mushroom into Jinli’s open mouth. “For centuries our family has named its daughters.”

“I see Mama every day.”

“This is not the same thing. You are unmarried.” And what he meant was: When a girl, obey your father. When married, obey your husband. When widowed, obey your son.

“I also work, Vice Minister.”

He snorted dismissively. “You do not need to do this work.”

“You hired me.”

“No one expected you to do more than pour tea. To do the investigations?” His face contorted. “It is not proper. You should do something cleaner. I can arrange this.”

“Have I not done my job?”