At the school Yunhe proves herself to be an ardent student. Her shirt is constantly wet with sweat. Bruises are visible on her knees and elbows from practicing martial arts. During voice class she spends hours studying one aria and won't quit until it is perfect. The teachers are pleased by the high expectations she sets for herself and she is adored. After classes one can hear Yunhe's laughter. It sounds like bells. The male students find it extremely pleasant. They find themselves unable to take their eyes off the girl. There is something about her that is utterly irresistible. It catches their attention and has a mysterious effect on them.
Not only does the girl love drama, she creates drama in her daily life. It becomes her interest first, then it extends itself to become a need, an obsession and an addiction. Finally her entire existence is based on it, her fantasy-she has to feel dramatic, has to play a role, or she gets restless, stressed and sick. She doesn't get well until she assigns herself another role.
It is midnight. The Temple of Confucius is said to be a visiting place of abandoned ghosts-the ghosts who had disobeyed tradition during their breathing time and have been punished. No temple will collect them. It is said that if the long grass sways in the empty courtyard after dark, bricks will drop from corners of the eaves. The statues of Confucius and his seventy-two disciples will come to life. They will lecture the ghosts and help them find their way back. The statue of Confucius is the tallest figure and is located in the deep end of the temple. It is covered with thick dust and spider webs, all the way from his feet up to his head scarf.
The boys of the opera school are afraid to go into the temple at night. One night they invent a game and set up a reward for anyone who dares to enter the temple after midnight to fetch the scarf from Confucius's head.
All week long, no one answers the challenge. The fifth night, someone grabs the scarf.
To everyone's surprise, it is Yunhe.
With two thin pigtails and a naughty grin on her face, the girl smiles toward the clapping audience.
The girl has a feeling that Mr. Zhao and his wife will do her good-for example, introduce her to someone or provide an opportunity. She relies on her instinct. Later in her life, on many occasions, she does the same.
She continues to practice her trade. She is taught Qingyi, traditionally a beautiful tragic female character. The girl's good looks earn her the role. Her movements are expected to be filled with elegance.
There are already rivals. Yunhe realizes that she has to fight to get chances. There is a part in a new play by a well-known Shanghai playwright, Tien Han. It is entitled The Incident on the Lake. Yunhe participates in the audition but is unlucky. The part goes to her roommate, a thin-haired girl whose brother is an instructor at the school.
Yunhe feels depressed during the opera's opening. She is unable to deal with her jealousy. Her discomfort is written all over her face. During the performance she forgets her job-to pop out of a tree. Inside she is tortured. She thinks of herself as a much better performer.
Some evil hands are always there trying to bind my feet, Madame Mao will say.
Even when winds buffet me from all directions, I never give up hope. This is my biggest virtue. Someone said that it was by accident that I sprouted. No. It was no accident. I created my own opportunity. Raining or snowing, I never missed one show. I was always there and always made myself available. I was never late or gave myself an excuse to retire early. I didn't waste time on gossiping or knitting sweaters by the stage curtain. I watched the leading lady.
Yes, I was bored to tears, but I made myself stay. I memorized the character's every aria and every word. It is not that I am so wise that I can predict what will happen next. What I do know is that if one wants to get a boat ride, one must be near the river.
The leading lady has the flu. Sick as she is, she doesn't want to leave the show. For days she drags herself through the play. It is Monday evening and it is rainy and wet. The actress is on the verge of collapsing. After peeping through the curtain at the small crowd she asks for the night off. The stage manager is furious with such short notice. The actress calls up a rickshaw and leaves the theater. It is seven o'clock. Fifteen minutes to curtain time. In the makeup room the stage manager paces in circles like a dog chasing its own tail. When the curtain bell rings he punches his fist into the makeup room mirror.
In the broken mirror Yunhe's face appears. Fully made up and dressed for the role.
I am ready to carry on the show, the girl says. I have been ready. Please, sir, give me a chance.
Thy white face doth powder spurn… The manager recites an aria from the middle of the play.
Vermilion must yet from thy lips learn. Yunhe opens her mouth with a full voice. Flesh of snow, bones of jade, dream thy dreams, peerless one, not for this world thou art made.
When the curtain ascends I am my role. Oh, how fantastic I feel! My cheeks are hot and I move about the stage at ease. I am born for this. I let myself flow, be led by the spirit of the character. The audience is mine. A shout comes when my character is about to end her life for love. Take me with you! I hear. Take me with you! The rest of the audience follows. And then there is the sob, the whole theater. It sounds like an incredible tide. Wave after wave. Sky high. Vast, wrapping my ears.
The performance is a success. It turns out to be the best opportunity I could ever hope for-Mr. Zhao Taimo and a group of critics he had invited to review the show are among the audience. He didn't call in advance to make reservations because he was aware that the show had been slow and that seats would not be a problem.
Yunhe's tears pour uncontrollably. The heroine finally wins her lover's affection. But her tears are not for her character. They are for herself, her victory, that she had outshone her rival, that she can no longer be ignored. And that she had single-handedly made all this happen herself.
Backstage, as she is being helped to remove her makeup and costume, she breaks down again. The sob comes so suddenly, with such an overwhelming impact, that she grabs the door and dashes out.
The year is 1930. Right after her first appearance on the stage, the theater is shut down. And then the troupe and the school. The reasons are lack of funds and political instability. Unable to pay its debts, China submits itself to deeper and wider foreign penetration. The infighting between warlords has exhausted the peasants and months of drought have devastated the landscape. By the time Yunhe decides to pack up, everybody else has already left. It is like a forest on fire where all the animals run for their lives.
The girl has no money to flee and she doesn't want to go back to her grandparents. Her mother has never tried to find her. She doesn't let herself miss her, especially in these moments, moments when she needs a place to go and a familiar face to turn to. She despises herself when she feels weak and helpless. She pinches the little-girl-crying-for-help voice inside her, pinches it as if it were her worst enemy. She keeps pinching until the pitiful voice turns into ice drops and forms a hard crystal. A crystal that never melts.