‘Don’t lie to me. You two are always arguing about wanting a son. Now I’m older I understand. It’s because of me that those family planning officers killed Happiness and that you gave Waterborn away. The government only allows parents to have one child living with them.’
‘That may be the rule, Nannan,’ Kongzi says. ‘But still, your mother and I are doing our best to make sure you have a little sibling to keep you company once we’re gone.’
‘If you wanted me to have a sibling, why did you sell Waterborn?’ A fly darts off Nannan’s hand and settles on the table.
‘Don’t touch the fly – it’s filthy!’ Meili says to Kongzi, as he’s about to swat it, then she turns to Nannan and says: ‘Your father, he – he just wasn’t thinking straight that day. He and I are working hard, saving up money so that you can go to university when you’re older. Kongzi, I’m still hungry. Order a yellow croaker steamed with salted vegetables.’
‘No, you’re saving up money to buy little Heaven a residence permit,’ Nannan says.
‘Yes, that too,’ Kongzi says. ‘We want our family to have a bright future, Nannan. That’s why we came here: to make money and give you a better life . . . A yellow croaker, please, waitress, and . . . mm, let’s see, a “chicken of the immortals” as well.’ Kongzi closes the menu and pushes it to the centre of the table.
‘No, you came here to escape the family planning officers. All my classmates’ parents are on the run from them. I understand everything now. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have left the village. If I hadn’t been born, Happiness would be alive today. I hate myself.’ Nannan stands up and leaves the table.
‘Mere mortal that I am, I can’t join you in the sky. The Heavens weep in sympathy, but are powerless to end my thousand autumns of longing . . .’ Kongzi warbles, then thanks the waitress as she puts another dish onto the table.
‘Stop singing, Kongzi,’ Meili says. ‘Listen, Nannan is growing up. Her body’s starting to develop, and she’s become very sensitive. We must be careful what we say in front of her. You must stop making her recite the Three Character Classic and Standards for Being a Good Pupil and Child. You’re putting too much pressure on her.’ She rests her elbows on the table and rubs her throbbing temples. Last night she took Tang and six members of their staff to the Princess Karaoke Bar to celebrate his birthday, and she had far too much to drink.
‘I read Nannan’s diary,’ Kongzi confesses. ‘She wrote that she doesn’t have a home to go back to and that she’s like a stream flowing to nowhere.’
‘The other day she asked me what “despair” means. I said it’s when you feel there’s no hope.’
‘Don’t talk to her about matters you don’t understand. The Confucian Doctrine of the Mean says that we should neither cling to life nor throw it away, and should avoid extreme emotions of joy and despair. We should learn to be happy with our lot.’
‘You just want an easy life. Where’s your ambition gone? When my brother’s released from the labour camp, I’m going to ask him to come and work for my company.’ Meili looks down at her left hand and rubs the shiny scar tissue on the stump of her index finger. The nails of the four remaining fingers are painted with sparkling red varnish.
Kongzi picks up a slice of pork smothered in sticky rice. ‘But your brother has no skills. What would he do?’
‘I didn’t have any skills either, but I still managed to help set up a company and become general manager, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, but you and he have different personalities,’ Kongzi says, pouring himself some more beer. The restaurant is only half full. On the next table a man wearing a wig and a smart grey suit is serving himself and his elegant guest some vintage Five Grain Liquor.
‘Did Nannan go to the toilet?’ Meili says. ‘This toffee apple should be eaten hot.’ She looks up at the laminated menu of Hunanese food on the wall: CHILLI-STUFFED PEPPERS, HOT-SOUR DOG MEAT, CRISPY DUCK IN SESAME SAUCE . . . then stares at the goldfish swimming about in a dirty fish tank on the counter, next to a ceramic fortune cat that is continually raising and lowering its left paw.