The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,28

hair was smoothed back from his high forehead so tightly that it made his eyebrows arch into peaks. His braid down his back told her that he was traditional. He nodded to Auntie and Uncle; then his gaze landed on Mei Lien. The man studied her for a moment, and no one spoke, as if they were waiting for him to make some kind of pronouncement. That he approved of his new bride? The man was older than she had thought, perhaps late forties, and Mei Lien sensed that she wouldn’t be his first wife. Hopefully she would be second wife then, and still have status in his household.

When the man nodded, Auntie’s grip on her arm lessened a fraction.

Mei Lien wanted to know what the nod meant.

“This way,” the man said. “The others will be here soon.”

Others? Were they witnesses, and she was to marry tonight? Was his family coming, and the ceremony would be in this hotel? Mei Lien thought of her mother’s wedding dress, crushed and wrinkled in her small trunk. Would she have time to press it?

They followed the man through the hanging drapes, and the sweet smoke intensified. Mei Lien covered her mouth to suppress another cough, and Auntie increased her grip once again. As they headed up a flight of narrow stairs, mercifully, the smoke lessened. At the top of the corridor was a long hallway, the walls covered in a patterned paper, connecting with the dusty wooden floor below. Mei Lien breathed freer as they walked down the hallway.

The man opened a door at the end of the hallway, and they all walked inside a bedroom. This room was absolutely opulent, with silk hangings, jade statues, and landscape art. Then Mei Lien noticed they weren’t alone. Three young women, close to Mei Lien’s age, stood along one wall, opposite the large bed. Another Chinese man, in his late fifties or early sixties, with shoulders as broad as an ox, perched on the edge of the bed, smoking.

The girls’ painted faces and expensive satin clothing sent a shiver of warning through Mei Lien, and she remembered the foul names she’d been called at the harbor in Hong Kong. Were these women daughters of the night? Did her husband want concubines, too?

Mei Lien’s eyes watered, but she miraculously held back her cough. Was she to be married to the old man? Her heart sank at the prospect. She didn’t want to be a widow in a few years, kicked to the street to fend for herself. If her husband died, she wouldn’t be able to marry again, and unless she had a grown son, there would be no one to care for her, no extra money to send to her mother.

Mei Lien knew she couldn’t ask any questions now, not with so many strangers staring at her. The other women didn’t look too pleased that she had come. Mei Lien finally identified her unease about the women: the eyes of each had that same glassy look that reminded her of Li Qiang, her betrothed, who had become addicted to opium.

Then the door opened again, and three more people entered. All men.

Uncle crossed to the men and bowed as if the new arrivals were of some importance. Their words were fast and whispered. Mei Lien caught only a small part of their discussion, which sounded like they were bartering over something. Discussing prices.

Mei Lien glanced again at the women against the wall. One appeared about to faint. The other two met her gaze, then quickly looked away.

The man with the pipe spoke for all to hear and ordered the three women to stand on chairs. It was then that Mei Lien noticed four chairs had been lined up in front of the wardrobe. The women moved to the chairs and obediently climbed up on them.

Auntie turned toward Mei Lien and hissed, “Are you stupid? Did you not hear the man? Get on a chair!”

Mei Lien opened her mouth to protest. What was going on? Where was her husband? Who were all these people? But Auntie pinched the top of her hip. Hard.

Mei Lien nearly yelped. Her eyes watered from the sharp sting, and she moved to the last chair and climbed up on it.

The men were still talking to Uncle, and now the man with the pipe had joined in. Their conversation became heated, rising whispers. When Uncle and the man with the pipe quieted and stood aside, Mei Lien watched the three men advance toward