LITMIR.BIZ

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      She lifted and tousled my hair. ‘But you know what? Today you’ll look even prettier, for I’m taking you out to have your hair styled!’

      I turned to stare at her. ‘Styled?’

      ‘Yes, most girls have never even heard of it, let alone have the money to have it done. So lucky you!’

      But I had heard of it. ‘You mean like … those stars in a movie?’ Of course I’d never seen ‘those stars’ in a real movie, only in newspapers and magazines Baba had brought home from the warlord’s house.

      ‘Exactly! Do you want to look like a movie star?’

      I turned back to look at the mirror and saw my head nodding like that of a childless woman kowtowing to Guan Yin for a baby boy.

      It was a hot, sunny Friday afternoon. Besides me, Fang Rong also took two other girls to have their hair styled. One, voluptuous and very silly acting, was called Jade Vase, and the other, to my surprise, was Spring Moon. I was glad that Mama had arranged for Spring Moon to share the rickshaw with me while she shared hers with Jade Vase. Spring Moon seemed to have recovered from that horrible night and the scar on her arm turned out to be quite small. Now, I’d finally have the chance to discuss with her in detail the strong stench and scurrying rats of the dark room – and maybe even fuck. But we ended up gawking at the rarely glimpsed city life outside the turquoise pavilion. Our eyes couldn’t detach themselves from busy Nanking Boulevard with its famous red-and-gold signboards. Our fingers kept thrusting here and there to point out remembered sights.

      Spring Moon pointed at a grand building and said proudly in her high-pitched voice, ‘Look, that’s Xing Xing Department Store where I used to shop with my parents.’

      I craned my neck and saw three Western-dressed tai tai studying merchandise with great intensity. Behind them shuffled amahs burdened with overflowing shopping bags.

      While my eyes were appreciating the society ladies’ elaborate make-up and brocade dresses, Spring Moon’s finger had already shifted to an even grander building next to Xing Xing, her voice climbing higher and higher in the air. ‘Look, this is Sincere Department Store. My father once bought me a gold necklace in the jewellery department on the third floor!’

      She plunged on excitedly, ‘My father also used to take me to the Heavenly Tune Pavilion open-air café on the top floor of the Wing On Department Store. There, I could see the whole city, including the China Peace Company, the International Hotel, and the race track!’

      When the speeding rickshaw had left the two stores and the three tai tai behind, a silence fell between us.

      To leave her to her thoughts, I turned to take in the scenes on the street.

      A vendor, with two baskets in front, yelled at the top of his voice, ‘Fresh and aromatic roasted chicken! Your money back if it’s not aromatic!’

      Next to him an elderly woman, kneeling, begged by knocking her head loudly on the ground.

      A noodle seller, bare-chested and leathery-faced, was banging a brass gong to attract attention.

      Under the scorching sun, a red-turbanned, black-bearded Indian policeman frantically wielded a baton to direct traffic. Sweat poured down his dark face like black bean sauce.

      Then I spotted two small children followed by doting parents swarm into a candy store. When I saw the big smiles on the parents’ faces, my heart was seized with grief mixed with bitterness. Since the first day I’d been taken to Peach Blossom, despite the fact that I had a mother, plus another set of ‘parents’ unexpectedly dropped onto my lap, I still felt orphaned. I poked my head out of the rickshaw so that Spring Moon wouldn’t see the tears streaming down my cheeks.

      Just then her voice rose next to my ear, startling me. ‘See, Xiang Xiang, that’s Mali Pig For!’

      I wiped my tears while craning my neck. ‘Who?’

      ‘The famous Hollywood movie star! Over there, on the signboard of the Peking Theatre!’

      Now I saw the picture showing the huge head of a foreign woman with wavy hair and a dreamy look. Next to her were several English words that I tried but failed to read. I turned to Spring Moon. ‘Can you read those chicken’s intestines?’

      She smiled proudly. ‘Of course.’ Then, her lips pouted like a chicken’s ass, she began to read. ‘Poor Little Rich Girl.’

      ‘Wah! Where did you learn English?’

      ‘My father used to hire a private tutor to teach us.’ A pause, then she asked regally, ‘Xiang Xiang, have you ever seen a movie?’

      Pathetically I shook my head.

      A smile bloomed on her face. ‘My father used to take me to all the movie theatres: the Peking, the Embassy, and the Lyceum. If you have a chance to go inside these places, I bet you’ll be impressed. They’re like palaces!’

      Spring Moon’s eyes turned red. I looked away into the distance across the harbour behind the hazy skyline. A ship was blowing its whistle as it passed another. Like a pair of scissors, a third ship slid soundlessly through the sapphire waves, its American flag fluttering in the breeze like a brightly coloured dress.

      America! I muttered to myself. I hoped someday I’d be able to leave Shanghai to see the world, places such as America where I could meet this famous, strange woman called Mali Pig For.

      Two rickshaws sped past ours; the coolies’ bare feet kicked up clouds of dust.

      Everything outside Peach Blossom was so real, so lively … and yet illusory. Life seemed a deep, confused dream.

      When I was about to turn back to talk to Spring Moon, the rickshaw suddenly pulled to a stop, jolting us forward. Fang Rong paid the two heavily sweating coolies, then, with an imperious air, led us into the hairstyling establishment.

      The walls of the shop were covered with mirrors, giving it a spacious, mysterious look. Pasted on the mirrors were pictures of Chinese movie stars; all had shiny, styled hair like black waves gleaming under the moon.

      Upon seeing us, several men, white towels draped over their arms, hurried to greet Fang Rong. They smiled obsequiously at her but scrutinised us like wolves. After we sat down, Mama told them to fix each of us a different hairdo.

      She thrust a pudgy finger at Jade Vase. ‘She has an ugly mole on her forehead, so give her the weeping willow fringe to hide it.’ Then she motioned to Spring Moon. ‘Her face’s too round and her forehead too low, so give her the one-line fringe to cover everything.’ Finally she turned to me, smiling generously. ‘This one’s lucky; she’ll get the glamorous star-studded sky.’

      Wah! I almost burst into happy laughter. Star-studded sky! But I had no time to relish this honor, for the three hairstylists, smiling knowingly, had already begun to muss our hair with expertly moving fingers.

      It took more than an hour for the three men to cut, wash, and style our hair. We looked at each other in the mirror and discovered that Jade Vase’s forehead was covered by a narrow patch of soft hair hung low like weeping willow branches. Spring Moon’s face was framed with a thick fringe and straight hair down the sides, which magically made her round face look slender. For myself, I was pleased to see my hair pulled backward to reveal my much-envied high forehead and melon-seed face. Moreover, my three-thousand-threads-of-trouble were decorated with a gold clasp blossoming with pearls! My face seemed to have changed. Suddenly it looked glamorous … as if I were a real movie star who’d dance with swirling dress to dreamy music in a grand ballroom hung with glittering chandeliers!

      A sob woke me from my intoxication; I turned and caught Spring Moon’s gaze. Her teary eyes lingered on my face like a cat pathetically pawing a fish bone.

      ‘Spring Moon,’ I took a deep breath, ‘why—’

      Mama’s coarse voice roared in the air. ‘Spring Moon, stop that! Don’t envy the others. You should be grateful not only

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