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“But you knew he had sex with Miaoshan before,” Peanut said. Her tone was so matter-of-fact that Hulan could almost forget that Peanut was only fourteen.
“You think I don’t know that every penis that has been inside me has already been inside Miaoshan?” Siang asked bitterly. The question required no answer, so Siang went on. “You’re still young, Peanut. It’s good for you to be safe in here. You wait for your father to arrange a marriage for you.”
“I am hoping for a true-love marriage,” Peanut said wistfully, her voice barely audible over the machinery.
“True love?” Siang spat out. “Look around this room and tell me if there is a single woman here who has experienced true love.”
“I have,” Hulan said. “And I know you have too. I’ve seen you with Tsai Bing.”
“Tsai Bing?” Siang sputtered. Then resolve crept into her voice. “Let me tell you something about Tsai Bing. Remember that day you found us in the cornfield?”
Hulan said she did.
“You asked him about the baby and he blushed. I hadn’t known about that.”
“You mean about the baby?” Hulan queried.
“No, that he was still having sex with Miaoshan even when he told me that he only loved me and that we would find a way to get married.”
Hulan was in no way prepared for what Siang said next.
“He had sex with her,” she continued sorrowfully, “even after I told him about seeing her with my father.”
Next to Hulan, Peanut sucked air in through her teeth.
“So now you have sex with the manager to get back at the one you love.” Hulan eased her voice over her words, erasing anything that might be taken for judgment.
“No, I let the manager put his organ in me so I can get promoted and make more money. The only way Tsai Bing and I will ever be together is if we leave Da Shui Village. The only way that will ever happen is if we have money.” Siang brought her shoulder up so she could wipe away a tear. “A night or two with a foreigner is a small price for a lifetime.”
But looking at Siang, whose toughness was as thin as a sheet of gold leaf, it seemed a very high price.
The morning wore on. The temperature in the room quickly rose over a stultifying forty degrees centigrade. Around them conversation dwindled to nothing as the heat and humidity drained the last bit of energy from the women who had already worked more than fifty-six hours this week. Hulan welcomed the relative silence from human voices. She had asked as many questions as she could today without drawing excessive attention to herself. Peanut’s queries about what Hulan was doing here only reminded her of how transparent her mission was becoming. Similarly, she could not continue her conversation with Siang. The girl had shut herself off, working with her head bent and her shoulders slouched except for those times when Aaron Rodgers swung by on his rounds and she plastered a fake smile on her face.
Hulan—her hands bandaged, her stomach queasy, her shoulders aching, her head pounding from the heat and noise from the machines—made her mind focus on the enigma of Ling Miaoshan. Last night Guy Lin hadn’t mentioned anything about a strike. Would Miaoshan have kept that information from him? Could Miaoshan have thought up the idea of a strike by herself? Could she have then moved forward, organizing, cajoling, frightening her fellow workers into following her without outside help? And if someone had helped her, who and why? Maybe this someone hadn’t helped her at all. Maybe he—and knowing what she did about Miaoshan, Hulan had no doubts that it would be a he—had used her as a way to foment unrest for some reason that wasn’t yet clear.
As Hulan circled around these ideas, she kept coming back to Miaoshan’s promiscuity. To use the coarse words of the local Public Security captain, it seemed true that Miaoshan had spread her legs for any man with a beating heart. From the beginning of time there had been women who had used sex as a method of survival, as a way of getting what they wanted, as a means to an end. But also from the beginning of time there had been women who had been victimized, used, and tossed aside when their novelty wore off or they became diseased or old. Was Miaoshan the manipulator or the manipulated?
David’s first obligation was to speak to Randall Craig. At seven, he called the hotel operator for Randall’s room number, but was told that Mr. Craig hadn’t checked in until late last night and had asked that no calls be put through. At eight, he tried again. Randall Craig picked up on the first ring. David asked if they might have breakfast together. Ten minutes later, David was in Randall’s spacious suite with a view overlooking South Xinjian Road. David had a duty to tell Randall about the problems that could be of concern to Tartan Incorporated. At the same time, David needed to protect his other client, Sun Gan. If David believed Sun was innocent—and the simplicity of the code more than anything made that a strong possibility—then he had to try to flesh out the truth to help the governor.
By the time the continental breakfast arrived, David had run through his concerns about the sale, outlining the alleged dangers on the factory floor, the use of child labor, and—without using names—the possibility that bribery had occurred.
Randall Craig listened patiently, occasionally taking sips of coffee or breaking off a piece of croissant. When David finished, Randall said, “Why hasn’t this shown up in the reports?”
“I don’t know,” David answered.
“Well, look, the due diligence was already done by your predecessor. I’m willing to stand by Keith’s reports.”
“But they’re wrong. If this information—any of it—comes out, then Tartan will be exposed to various lawsuits, not to mention criminal proceedings.”
“Let’s deal with the bribery issue first,” Randall said. “I assume old man Knight is the one you think is paying out. Who’s he paying?”
“I can’t say,” David answered. It wasn’t a lie exactly, but it was vague enough to keep his other client protected.
“Is there any danger of it coming out before the sale?”
“There’s an American reporter who’s on to the story.”
Randall sighed. “Pearl Jenner, I suppose. Have you talked to her?”
