Chinese Cinderella (4 page)

One year after their wedding, they had a son (Fourth Brother) followed by a daughter (Little Sister). There were now seven of us: five children from Father’s first wife and two from our stepmother, Niang.

As well as Father and Niang, we lived with our Grandfather Ye Ye (
), Grandmother Nai Nai (
) and Aunt Baba (
) in a big house in the French Concession of Tianjin, a city port on the north‐east coast of China. Aunt Baba was the older sister of our father. Because she was meek, shy, unmarried and had no money of her own, my parents ordered her to take care of me. From an early age, I slept in a cot in her room. This suited me well because I grew to know her better and better and we came to share a life apart from the rest of our family. Under the circumstances, perhaps it was inevitable that, in time, we loved each other very deeply.

Many years before, China had lost a war (known as the Opium War) against England and France. As a result, many coastal cities in China (such as Tianjin and Shanghai) came to be occupied by foreign soldiers.

The conquerors parcelled out the best areas of these treaty ports for themselves, claiming them as their own ‘territories’ or ‘concessions’. Tianjin’s French Concession was like a little piece of Paris transplanted into the centre of this big Chinese city. Our house was built in the French style and looked as if it had been lifted from a tree‐shaded avenue near the Eiffel Tower. Surrounded by a charming garden, it had porches, balconies, bow windows, awnings and a slanting tile roof. Across the street was St Louis Catholic Boys’ School, where the teachers were French missionaries.

In December 1941, when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, the United States became involved in the Second World War. Although Tianjin was occupied by the Japanese, the French Concession was still being governed by French officials. French policemen strutted about looking important and barking out orders in their own language, which they expected everyone to understand and obey.

At my school, Mother Agnes taught us the alphabet and how to count in French. Many of the streets around our house were named after dead French heroes or Catholic saints. When translated into Chinese, these street names became so complicated that Ye Ye and Nai Nai often had trouble remembering them. Bilingual store signs were common but the most exclusive shops painted their signs only in French. Nai Nai told us this was the foreigners’ way of announcing that no Chinese were allowed there except for maids in charge of white children.

Chapter Three

Nai Nai’s Bound Feet

T
he dinner‐bell rang at seven. Aunt Baba took my hand and led me into the dining‐room.

My grandparents were just ahead of us. Aunt Baba told me to run quickly to the head of the big, round dining‐table and pull out Grandmother Nai Nai’s chair for her. Nai Nai walked very slowly because of her bound feet. I watched her as she inched her way towards me, hobbling and swaying as if her toes had been partly cut off. As she sat down with a sigh of relief, I placed my foot next to her embroidered, black‐silk shoe to compare sizes.

‘Nai Nai, how come your feet are so tiny?’ I asked.

‘When I was three years old, a tight bandage was wound around my feet, bending the toes under the sole and crushing the arch so that my feet would remain small all my life. This has been the custom in China for over one thousand years, ever since the Tang dynasty. In my day, small feet were considered feminine and beautiful. If you had large and unbound feet, no man would marry you. This was the custom.’

‘Did it hurt?’

‘Of course! It hurt so badly I couldn’t sleep. I screamed with pain and begged my mother to free my feet but she wouldn’t. In fact, the pain has never gone away. My feet have hurt every day since they were bound and continue to hurt today. I had a pair of perfectly normal feet when I was born, but they maimed me on purpose and gave me life‐long arthritis so I would be attractive. Just be thankful this horrible custom was done away with thirty years ago. Otherwise your feet would be crippled and you wouldn’t be able to run or jump either.’

I went to the foot of the table and sat at my assigned seat between Second Brother and Third Brother as my three brothers ran in, laughing and jostling each other. I cringed as Second Brother sat down on my right. He was always saying mean things to me and grabbing my share of goodies when nobody was looking.

Second Brother used to sit next to Big Brother but the two of them fought a lot. Father finally separated them when they broke a fruit bowl fighting over a pear.

Big Brother winked at me as he sat down. He had a twinkle in his eye and was whistling a tune. Yesterday he’d tried to teach me how to whistle but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t make it work. Was Big Brother up to some new mischief today? Last Sunday afternoon, I came across him crouched by Grandfather Ye Ye’s bed, watching him like a cat while Ye Ye took his nap. A long black hair from Ye Ye’s right nostril was being blown out and drawn in with every snore. Silently but swiftly, Big Brother suddenly approached Ye Ye and carefully pinched the nasal hair between his forefinger and thumb. There was a tantalising pause as Ye Ye exhaled with a long, contented wheeze. Meanwhile I held my breath, mesmerised and not daring to make a sound. Finally, Ye Ye inhaled deeply. Doggedly, Big Brother hung on. The hair was wrenched from its root. Ye Ye woke up with a yell, jumped from his bed, took in the situation with one glance and went after Big Brother with a feather duster. Laughing hysterically, Big Brother rushed out of the room, slid down the banister and made a clean getaway into the garden, all the time holding Ye Ye’s hair aloft like a trophy.

Third Brother took his seat on my left. His lips were pursed and he was trying to whistle unsuccessfully. Seeing the medal on my uniform, he raised his eyebrow and smiled at me. ‘What’s that?’ he asked.

‘It’s an award for topping my class. My teacher says I can wear it for seven days.’

‘Congratulations! First week at school and you get a medal! Not bad!’

While I was basking in Third Brother’s praise, I suddenly felt a hard blow across the back of my head. I turned around to see Second Brother glowering at me.

‘What did you do
that
for?’ I asked angrily. Deliberately, he took my right arm under the table and gave it a quick, hard twist while no one was looking. ‘Because I feel like it, that’s why, you ugly little squirt! This’ll teach you to show off your medal!’

I turned for help from Third Brother but he was looking straight ahead, obviously not wishing to be involved. At that moment, Father, Niang and Big Sister came in together and Second Brother immediately let go of my arm.

Niang was speaking to Big Sister in English and Big Sister was nodding assent. She glanced at all of us smugly as she took her seat between Second Brother and Niang, full of her own self‐importance at being so favoured by our stepmother. Because her left arm had been paralysed from a birth injury, her movements were slow and awkward and she liked to order me, or Third Brother, to carry out her chores.

‘Wu Mei (Fifth Younger Sister)!’ she now said. ‘Go fetch my English–Chinese dictionary. It’s on my bed in my room. Niang wants me to translate something . . .’

I was halfway off my chair when Nai Nai said, ‘Do the translation later! Sit down, Wu Mei. Let’s have dinner first before the dishes get cold. Here, let me first pick a selection of soft foods to send up to the nursery so the wet nurse can feed the two youngest . . .’ She turned to Niang with a smile. ‘Another two years and all seven grandchildren will be sitting around this table. Won’t that be wonderful?’

Niang’s two‐year‐old son, Fourth Brother, and her infant daughter, Little Sister, were still too young to eat with us. However, they were already ‘special’ from the moment of their birth. Though nobody actually said so, it was simply understood that everyone considered Niang’s ‘real’ children to be better‐looking, smarter, and simply superior in every way to Niang’s stepchildren. Besides, who dared disagree?

For dessert, the maids brought in a huge bowl of my favourite fruit, dragons’ eyes! I was so happy I couldn’t help laughing out loud.

Nai Nai gave us each a small bowl of fruit and I counted seven dragons’ eyes in mine. I peeled off the leathery brown skin and was savouring the delicate white flesh when Father suddenly pointed to my medal.

‘Is this medal for topping your class?’ he asked.

I nodded eagerly, too excited to speak. A hush fell upon the table. This was the first time anyone could remember Father singling me out or saying anything to me. Everyone looked at my medal.

‘Is the left side of your chest heavier?’ Father continued, beaming with pride. ‘Are you tilting?’

I flushed with pleasure and could barely swallow. My big Dia Dia was actually teasing me! On his way out, he even patted me on my head. Then he said, ‘Continue studying hard and bringing honour to our Yen family name so we can be proud of you.’

All the grown‐ups beamed at me as they followed Father out of the room. How wonderful! My triumph had become Father’s triumph! I must study harder and keep wearing this medal so I can go on pleasing Father, I thought to myself.

But what was this? Big Sister was coming towards me with a scowl. Without a word, she reached over and snatched two dragons’ eyes from my bowl as she left the room. My three brothers followed her example. Then they all ran out, leaving me quite alone with my silver medal, staring at my empty bowl.

Chapter Four

Life in Tianjin