Another man said, "So many traditions, eh, Xiao Hulan?" She started. She hadn't been called Little Hulan since before she'd gone to the Red Soil Farm. "They tell us how to be loyal, how to conduct conversations, how to negotiate, how to meet as husband and wife. They can be so tiresome, don't you think?"
Hulan didn't know how to respond.
"I say, we are old friends here," this second man went on. "We are not family, but I can remember when you called me uncle."
Hulan's eyes stung with tears at these words. This compound with its memories. These men-the most powerful in her country-old now, dredging up times that were perhaps better left forgotten.
As if reading her thoughts, the second man said, "We have never forgotten your family or you. There are some people in this room who wouldn't be here if not for the long-ago courage of your father and mother. And what we want to say is that your work for our nation has not gone unnoticed and we are grateful."
"We also know," the first man resumed, "that your job has come at a high price."
Her father's death. Being belittled in the press. Becoming an object of scorn in her own country. Almost losing her life and that of her child. Yes, she had paid a very high price.
"We are sorry," he said.
Up to a point, Hulan thought.
"The people of our country think one thing about you," the man continued, "but you may keep your mind easy. We know the truth."
"Yes, but I live among the people. I work among the masses."
The men looked at her in surprise. She wasn't supposed to speak at all, let alone make even the slightest criticism. Over their shoulders Hulan saw Vice Minister Zai put a weary hand over his eyes.
"We need you, Liu Hulan," the man in the middle said. "You have an understanding of the truth. You are fair. You have always been unflinching."
I've followed the wind. I've been swayed by government propaganda and thereby lost people I've loved, she thought.
"We need you more than ever, Liu Hulan," he continued. "You understand better than most about corruptibility. Sad to say, this is your family legacy, but you have used it to advantage. You also understand these foreigners who are coming into our country like ants looking for sugar." The man paused. All this time his face had been the mask of a beloved uncle. Now he added a look of concern. "We know you don't want to leave your homeland. We are proud of you for wanting to have your baby here when it would be so easy for you to travel to the homeland of its father."
"David will be back."
He nodded. "We know that, of course."
A silence settled. Dust motes drifted in a stream of light coming through the window. Finally Hulan broke with ceremony. "What do you want?"
The face of the man in the middle stretched into a thin, triumphant smile.
"On the exterior you are so Chinese, Liu Hulan," he said. "You know how to say the proper words of a filial daughter, you know all the etiquette of centuries-old tradition, but inside you are like a foreigner." On the surface these words conveyed a supreme insult, but his voice resonated with admiration. "We have an open door policy and we will not back away from it," he went on. "But with that open door we have to deal with these outsiders. We want you to help us with that." He held up a hand. "I am not asking you to leave the Ministry of Public Security. No, we want you to stay exactly where you are. You have your credentials. You have your own money. These two things give you power on the street."
"So I continue my life as it is."
The man nodded.
"With no other strings?"
"To the contrary. We are prepared to look the other way. David Stark will be allowed to return to China. You will be allowed to have your baby."
Hulan glanced over the man's shoulder to Zai. Her mentor's face was white with worry. She could almost hear him shouting at her, Take it, accept it.
Hulan cleared her throat. "One does not like to bargain with family."
Zai once again covered his eyes. Even Sun looked appalled.
"This is not a negotiation," the man on the right said sternly.
"Nevertheless," Hulan said.
"What can we do for you, Xiao Hulan?"
"Three things."
"Three?" The old men exchanged glances. This kind of request was unheard of. The man in the middle waved his hand, signaling an agreement. The man to his left said, "Tell us what they are, then we will see."
"Why were we able to leave Beijing after the murders of Pearl Jenner and Guy Lin?"
"This is your request? This is hardly worth asking!"
"But I still want to know," Hulan said.
"Vice Minister Zai advised us to give you free rein. He proved to be right about you, as always."
Yes, of course this was how it had been. She'd intuited it during her, encounter with Pathologist Fong.
"This second comes from my own curiosity," she went on. "I will never repeat it. I know what will happen if I do."
"Yes?"
"I had occasion to see Sun Gan's dangan." As she spoke these words she didn't look in Sun's direction. "There are some discrepancies to what I know to be the facts. This makes me think that he had men like you behind him. I wonder how this happened."
A heavy silence hung in the room. At last the man in the middle said, "No, not men. One man. The late but revered Premier Zhou Enlai."
As he continued speaking, the pieces clicked into place. Local cadres had sent the young Sun Gan to a mission school. His heroism at Tianlong Shan with Henry Knight had been noted and he'd been sent west, this time to spy on the Americans. However, the story in the dangan relating Sun's valor at the battle of Huai Hua was a complete falsehood. He'd been elsewhere. The place and the circumstances would remain a state secret, but he'd saved Zhou's life just as he'd saved Henry Knight's. Zhou, like Knight, had been grateful and had smoothed the way to position and promotion for his protege. These simple acts, combined with Henry Knight's "tea money," had assured Sun safety during various political campaigns, not the least of which was the Cultural Revolution.
"Sun Gan was in great trouble during what we may call the Chaos," the man in the middle said. "But instead of trying to save himself, he petitioned Premier Zhou to protect one of our country's treasures. This is why, if you were to visit the Jinci Temple famous in Shanxi Province for its Three Everlasting Springs, you would know that Premier Zhou sent- at Sun Gan's request-an armed guard to protect…"
Another piece fell into place, this one from Hulan's own past. She remembered leaving the Red Soil Farm on an excursion to Jinci. The monks had been ridiculed and struggled against. In the newer buildings Hulan and her compatriots had destroyed paintings and sculptures, but they'd not been allowed to touch the oldest and most beautiful building at Jinci, the renowned Mother Temple, defended as it was by Premier Zhou's personal guards. It was as Henry Knight said that day flying back to Taiyuan: Sun Gan, even in the most difficult circumstances, "stood firm." Unlike others in this room, herself included, he'd never wavered in his beliefs or his duties.