Big Breasts and Wide Hips (83 page)

The next morning, Lianlian invited him to breakfast in her office. Sharing this honor was her husband, the master bird trainer, Parrot Han. The moment Jintong stepped through the door he was greeted by a “Good morning” from a black mynah on a golden perch. The bird ruffled its feather as it “spoke,” and he wondered if his ears had deceived him. He walked around to see if he could find the source of the sound. “Shangguan Jintong,” the mynah bird said. “Shangguan Jintong.” The bird's greeting shocked and elated him. He nodded in its direction. “Good morning,” he said. “What's your name?” The bird ruffled its feathers and said, “Bastard! Bastard!” “Did you hear that, Parrot?” Lianlian said. “This is what you've been teaching your little pet!” Parrot slapped the mynah. “Bastard!” he cursed. “Bastard!” the dizzy mynah echoed him. “Bastard!” Obviously embarrassed, Parrot turned to Lianlian. “Damn,” he said, “have you ever seen the likes of this bird? It's like a little child. You can try to teach him proper language till you're blue in the face, but it's no use. Then say a bad word, and he picks it up at once.”

Lianlian treated Jintong to some fresh milk and a partially cooked ostrich egg. She had the appetite of a bird, while Jintong had the appetite of a pig. She drank a cup of wonderfully fragrant Nestlé's coffee. “Uncle,” she said, “an army trains for a thousand days to fight for one. The time has come for you to display your skills.”

Jintong gulped in surprise, which led to a series of hiccups. “Urn,” he stammered, “what can, what can I do …”

Noticeably disgusted by the hiccups, she fixed her callous gray eyes on his mouth. Because of the callousness, her normally tender eyes were suddenly unbelievably intimidating, reminding him of her mother and of those marshland snakes that could swallow a wild goose. That thought cured his hiccups.

“You can do lots of things!” Rays of tenderness shot from her gray eyes, returning them to their enchanted beauty. “Uncle,” she said, “do you know the one thing needed for us to turn our plans into reality? Of course you do, it's money. The sauna resort cost money. The big-breasted Thai masseuse cost money. Do you know how much that ostrich egg you just ate cost?” She held out five fingers. “Fifty? Five hundred? Five thousand! Everything we do costs money, and for the Eastern Bird Sanctuary to prosper, we need a lot of it. Not eighty or a hundred thousand, and not two or three hundred thousand, but millions, tens of millions! And for that we need the support of the government. We need bank loans, and the government owns the banks. The bank managers do the mayor's bidding, and who does the mayor listen to?”

She smiled, looked at Jintong, and answered her own question.

“You, that's who!” More hiccups.

“Take it easy, Uncle. Listen carefully. The new mayor of Dalan isn't just anybody, it's none other than your very own mentor, Ji Qiongzhi, and the first person she inquired about as mayor was you. Just think, Uncle, after all these years, you're still in her thoughts. Emotions don't get any deeper than that.”

“So I go see her and say, mentor Ji, I'm Shangguan Jintong, and Fd like you to lend my niece several million yuan for her bird sanctuary, is that it?” Jintong said.

Lianlian laughed hard. Gently pounding Jintong on the shoulder, she said, “Silly Uncle, my silly Uncle, you sure have earned your reputation as an innocent man. I'll teach you how to do it.”

Over the next couple of weeks, Lianlian put Jintong through the sort of day-and-night training that Parrot used on his birds, instructing him on what a powerful woman likes to hear. On the day before Ji Qiongzhi's birthday Lianlian conducted a dress rehearsal in her bedroom. Dressed in a sheer white nightgown, she played the part of Mayor Ji, a cigarette in one hand and a glass of fine wine in the other, a love potion on the pillow, and embroidered slippers on her feet. Jintong, wearing a tailored suit and French cologne, was holding an array of peacock feathers in one arm and a trained parrot in the other as he gently pushed open the leather-trimmed door —

— The moment he stepped into the room, Ji Qiongzhi's prestige and manner froze him in his tracks. Unlike Lianlian, she wasn't dressed in a revealing nightgown. Instead, she was wearing an old army uniform, buttoned all the way up to the neck. And she wasn't smoking a cigarette or holding a glass of wine. Needless to say, there was no love potion on the pillow. In fact, she didn't receive him in her bedroom. She was smoking a Stalin-era pipe filled with reeking coarse tobacco, and was guzzling tea from an oversized mug with chipped porcelain and the words “Flood Dragon River Farm” stamped on one side. Seated in a beat-up rattan chair, she had her feet, encased in smelly nylon socks, on the desk in front of her. She was reading a mimeographed document when he entered. She tossed it aside when she saw him. “Bastard! Lousy bedbug!” Jintong's legs nearly buckled, and he all but threw himself to his knees in front of her. Taking her feet off the desk, she slipped into her shoes, caving in the backs, and said, “Come here, Shangguan Jintong. Don't be frightened, that wasn't meant for you.”

In line with Lianlian's instructions, Jintong should have bowed deeply at that moment, and then, with tears in his eyes, gazed at her soft bosom, but for only about ten seconds. Longer than that would give the impression of unwelcome intentions; less than that implied disrespect. Then he was to say, “My dear teacher, Ji Qiongzhi, do you still remember that useless student you once had?”

But she'd called him by name before he could open his mouth and looked him over from head to toe, the same liveliness in her eyes as before. He felt prickly all over, and wished he could drop what he was carrying and get away as fast as his feet would carry him. She sniffed the air. “How much cologne did Geng Lianlian spray on you?” she asked mockingly.

She got up and pushed open a window to let in the cool night air. Off in the distance, arc welders raised sparks on steel girders high above the ground, like holiday fireworks. “Have a seat,” she said. “I have nothing to offer you, except a glass of water.” She picked up a mug with a missing handle from the tea cart, studied the gunk at the bottom, and said, “Maybe not. It's filthy, and I'm too lazy to go wash it out. I'm getting old. Time is unforgiving. After running around all day, my legs have swelled up like leavened bread.”

“When she brings up her age and complains about getting old, Uncle, you mustn't agree with her. Even if her face looks like a dried-up gourd, what you have to say is” — now he parroted the exact words Geng Lianlian had coached him to say: “Teacher, except that you've filled out a little, you look just the same as when you were teaching us songs all those years ago. You look like a woman of twenty-seven or twenty-eight, certainly no more than thirty!”

With a sneer, Ji said, “Geng Lianlian told you to say that, didn't she?”

“Yes.” He blushed.

“Jintong, you can't sing a song well just by memorizing the lyrics. I assure you that that sort of ass-kissing is wasted on me. Under thirty, indeed! That's crap! I don't have to be told that I'm getting old. My hair's turning gray, my eyesight's getting worse, my teeth are threatening to fall out, and my skin sags. There's more, but I'd rather not talk about it. People out there praise me to the sky to my face, but curse me behind my back, silently if not out loud. That old deadbeat! The old witch! Since you owned up to it, I'll overlook it today. I could just as easily have thrown you out. But have a seat. Don't just stand there.”

Jintong handed her the array of peacock feathers. “Teacher Ji, Geng Lianlian asked me to give you these and told me to say, ‘Teacher, these fifty-five peacock feathers are a birthday gift that mirrors your own beauty.'” “More crap!” Ji said. “A peacock is beautiful. But a peahen is uglier than a roosting chicken. Take those feathers back to her. And what's that, a talking parrot?” She pointed at the cage he was holding. “Uncover it and let me have a look.” Jintong removed the red silk cover and tapped the cage. The sleepy parrot inside ruffled its wings and said angrily, “How are you, how are you, Teacher Ji?” Ji Qiongzhi smacked the cage, throwing such a scare into the bird that it hopped up and down, its pretty feathers banging loudly against the cage. With a sigh, Ji said, “How am I? No damned good, that's how.”

She refilled her pipe and sucked on it like a toothless old man. “Birdman Han planted a dragon seed,” she said, “but all he got for his efforts was a flea! Why did Geng Lianlian send you here?”

Jintong stammered, “She asked me to invite you to take a tour of the Eastern Bird Sanctuary.”

“That's not the real reason,” Ji said as she picked up her mug of tea and took a drink. She banged it down on the table and said, “What she really wants is a bank loan.”

On one glorious spring day, Ji Qiongzhi elevated Jintong's status in the eyes of others by leading a delegation of Dalan's most influential officials and, by special invitation, the managers of the Construction Bank, the Bank of Industry and Commerce, the People's Bank, and the Bank of Agriculture on an inspection tour of the Eastern Bird Sanctuary. Lu Shengli, a woman of majestic bearing, dressed very simply that day, but any discerning individual could see that this very simplicity was in itself a fashion statement, and that her “simple” clothes were all designer imports.

Forty or more expensive sedans pulled up at the gate of the Eastern Bird Sanctuary, where a pair of red palace lanterns three meters in diameter, filled with more than a hundred silver-throated skylarks, hung. Parrot Han had trained the birds to start singing as soon as they heard the sound of automobile engines. The lanterns vibrated with the skylarks' songs, natural music of unsurpassed and unforgettable beauty. The arched roof of the gate was home to more than seventy nests of golden swifts, also trained by the magical hand of Parrot Han. A wooden plaque standing alongside the gate gave the English name of the swifts and a Chinese and English detailed description of the birds. Of special note was the fact that the nearly transparent nests were famous for their high nutritional value; a single nest sold for 3,000 yuan. For this occasion, Geng Lianlian had secretly installed several hundred audio speakers on nearby trees, which flooded the area with taped birdcalls. Just inside the gate, four wooden plaques proclaimed: Birds Call Flowers Sing, one gigantic word on each plaque. At first, the observers assumed that the word “sing” was a mistake, but they quickly realized that it was the perfect choice, since the flowers of the Eastern Bird Sanctuary did in fact appear to be singing as they swayed along with the nearly deafening birdcalls. A flock of well-trained wild chickens performed a welcoming dance in the middle of the courtyard, pairing off as couples one minute and spinning in the air the next, in perfect cadence with the music. These can't be wild chickens! They're nothing less than a flock of young gentlemen (for the sake of aesthetic continuity, Parrot Han had trained only male birds), a flock of young dandies forming a multicolored chorus line that dazzled the observers' eyes. Geng Lianlian and Jintong led the visitors into the sanctuary's performance hall, where Parrot Han, wearing ceremonial dress with embroidered red flowers, waited impressively, baton at the ready. Once the visitors were inside, a young female attendant threw a switch, flooding the hall with light, and twenty tiger-skin parrots on a horizontal perch directly opposite the entrance sang out in unison: Welcome welcome, hearty welcome, welcome welcome, hearty welcome! The visitors responded with ecstatic applause. Before the sound had died out, a flock of little siskins flew out, each carrying a folded pink slip in its beak, which they dropped into the hands of the visitors. Opening their slips, the visitors read the following: Greetings to your honorable personages! Your advice and guidance will be much appreciated. The recipients clicked their tongues in amazement. Next came two mynahs dressed in red jackets and little green hats; waddling up to a microphone at the center of the stage, one of them announced haughtily, Ladies and gentlemen, how do you do! The second mynah translated into fluent English. Thank you for honoring us with your presence. We welcome your precious advice — more translation. The director of the Municipal Trade Bureau, who knew English well, commented, Pure Oxford English. Now, for your enjoyment, we offer a solo rendering of “The Women's Liberation Anthem,” sung by Hill Mynah. A hill mynah in purple dress bird-walked up to the microphone and bowed to the audience, so deeply that they could see the two yellow flaps on the back of her head. She said, today I'm going to sing a historical song, which I respectfully dedicate to Mayor Ji. I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you. Another deep bow exposed for the second time the two flaps, as ten canaries hopped out onto the stage to sing the opening bars in their lovely voices. The hill mynah began to rock as her voice rose in song:

The song ended amid thundering applause. Lianlian and Jintong sneaked a look at Ji Qiongzhi to gauge her reaction. She sat there calmly, neither clapping nor shouting her approval. Lianlian began to squirm. “What's with her?” she asked softly, giving him a nudge with her elbow. He shook his head.

Lianlian cleared her throat to get everyone's attention.
^U
I now invite our honorable guests to the dining room. Since the Eastern Bird Sanctuary is a new enterprise and has limited funds, we can offer only a modest meal. Our chef has prepared a ‘hundred bird banquet' in your honor.”

The pair of avian masters of ceremony rushed up to the microphone to announce in unison, “Hundred bird banquet, hundred bird banquet, delicacies galore. From ostrich to hummingbird. Mallard and blue horse chicken. Red-crested crane and long-tailed turtledove. Bustard and ibis, hawfinch and mandarin duck, pelican and lovebird. Yellow roc, thrush, and woodpecker. Swan, cormorant, flamingo