Read Tiger's Heart Online

Authors: Aisling Juanjuan Shen

Tiger's Heart (18 page)

She was right about everything. We could get in big trouble with the Zhous. But the idea that we could become rich teased me like the tip of a goose feather. I just couldn’t put it out of my mind. I knew it could be life-threatening to approach Song, but this was my chance, the opportunity I had longed for when I came to the South.

“Xiao Yi, Song should be in town soon again. Don’t leave yet. Stay somewhere in the town, and we can find an opportunity to approach him.”

She grinned. “No, Ah-Juan. Don’t get too excited. It’s just a beautiful dream. Who knows if it would ever work out? It’s too risky. I am leaving, no matter what. Life is too tiring. I just want a peaceful job in some small town where I can work normal hours and stay healthy.” She looked at me. “But why don’t you go and talk to Song? You seem to be good with men.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. I summoned up my courage and said resolutely, “I’ll find a chance to go and talk to him, and I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Her eyes glinted. She didn’t believe I’d do it. I would prove to her that I was serious. I was young and impatient, and I had nothing to lose.

The next day, Xiao Yi left the company and I became the only translator. I worked day and night and gradually became familiar with the two major suppliers, Jacques in Paris and Carl in South Carolina. I kept getting good deals for the Zhous, and they seemed pleased with my performance.

Finally, the day I had been waiting for arrived. Song, the rich country bumpkin who always had stacks of cash in his pockets, flew in to buy the KS machines. Sitting at my desk, I heard Zhou telling his driver to pick up Song at Guangzhou Airport.

After the driver left, Zhou turned to me and ordered, “Ah-Juan, lock all the drawers and don’t let Song near the fax machine.”

Song’s oval stomach, wrapped up in a blue suit, was the first thing to appear at the door, and then came his flat, swarthy face with its two small eyes. After dropping his buttocks into a leather chair, he quickly surveyed the room. I smiled to him politely and then turned back to the faxes scattered on my desk. I could feel his eyes burning into my back.

“Old Zhou, I see you have a new translator. Damn, you change translators as often as you change hookers. That stick Xiao Yi is gone now, and you got yourself a round one. Good choice. I like meaty ones.” He winked to Zhou and laughed lasciviously, swiveling his chair with his bottom like a naughty child.

I kept my eyes focused on the paper and fingers grasping the ballpoint pen.

“Of course! Hookers—you need to change them often, just like machines. You need to change them often too.” Zhou cackled. “Old Song, I’ve told Ah-Juan that being a hooker is the best job for a girl, because not only do you make money, you also have fun. I told her that in my next life I want to be reincarnated as a hooker, and she scoffed. But don’t you agree?”

Both of them roared with laughter. God, how could such sleazebags get so rich? But then I thought of what Chairman Deng Xiaoping once said—white cat or black cat, as long as it catches mice, it is a good cat. Moral character was not worth a penny. I shouldn’t care how many hookers Song dealt with or how terribly he behaved, as long as he could help turn my destiny around. I had to like him, and I had to make him like me too. My chance came later that night when Zhou invited me to dinner with them.

I knew Song liked to drink and, like the LongJiang executives, would enjoy watching me drink. So at dinner I filled both our cups with the strongest rice wine the restaurant offered, proposed a toast, and then downed mine in one gulp. Sure enough, he became extremely interested in me and kept pestering me to have more.

“So, where are you staying tonight?” I asked as we clinked our glasses.

“The Golden Swan Hotel. It’s not far from here,” he answered quickly and then ordered me to finish my rice wine.

Soon his face turned red. He took off his blazer and loosened his belt. His belly was as big as an eight-months-pregnant woman’s. He definitely could not see his own toes. After five or six glasses, the rice wine was burning all my internal organs, and I could hardly focus on his face. I saw Zhou stand up and go to the bathroom. I shook the tipsy feeling out of my head and gathered up my remaining sense.

“So, what room are you staying in?” I asked. I tilted my head flirtatiously.

“Why? Are you going to visit me tonight?” He squinted and smiled cunningly. He was playing with a toothpick, sticking it in the gaps between his teeth.

“No, why would I visit you?” I said. Immediately, I realized my tone had been too harsh, and I said sweetly, “Oh, well, maybe, if I don’t have to work too late.”

“Two-oh-seven.” He winked. “I’ll be waiting.”

When Zhou returned to the table, I told him I had had too much to drink and needed to go back to the office building. Zhou instructed his driver to take me home. I said a quick good-bye to Song. I didn’t want to appear too friendly and arouse Zhou’s suspicions.

I stayed next to the fax machine that night as usual, waiting anxiously for Zhou’s return. At around eleven, I heard his Lexus pull up and park and then his footsteps going up the stairs to his bedroom. I waited another hour until I was certain he would be asleep, and then I locked the office door and tiptoed down to the iron gate.

“Miss Shen, going out so late?” the guard grunted.

“Yeah, a friend of mine is really sick, and I need to go and see her. I’m so sorry to wake you up,” I apologized. He picked up the big chain of keys from the table and walked toward the small gate next to the big iron gate. I followed him closely. As soon as he opened the small gate, I stepped into the darkness and ran to the road.

The one-mile distance between the factory and the hotel seemed to take forever to travel in the pitch-dark night. I jogged on the empty asphalt road, looking behind me repeatedly. After ten minutes, I arrived at the entrance of the Golden Swan Hotel, carrying a gust of dust with me.

The receptionist was sleeping behind her desk in the dark lobby. I hid in the space beneath the elegant wooden staircase, which was ornately carved with dragons and phoenixes. After double-checking that the receptionist was still asleep and no one was watching, I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. The rooms on the second floor were located along the four sides of a square whose open center overlooked the lobby. I walked around the square as discreetly as possible, glancing quickly at the golden plates on the doors of the rooms.

I found number 207 and halted. I clutched my jacket with both hands and paused for a moment, waiting for my heart to slow down. I was poised to knock, but my hand dropped to my side. Maybe the cost would be too high. I didn’t know if I was ready for this. But a voice inside of me thundered, Yes! Yes, you are. I knocked.

Song appeared, wearing an open robe, his eyes foggy from sleep. I said a soft hi to him and squeezed in. The funk of foot odor rose to my nose. He slipped back into the bed and leaned his back against the pillow, looking at me, a bit puzzled.

I sat down on the edge of the other bed in the room. He examined me from head to toe, and then I saw a sly smile emerging on his face. I started to get scared, and before he could develop wilder thoughts, I said, “Boss Song, don’t misunderstand. Sorry that I came to visit you so late, but I have a very important matter to discuss.”

“Oh, really?” he said skeptically. “What is it?”

Solemnly and slowly, I asked, “Would you like to bypass Zhou and import machines directly from overseas yourself?”

He was clearly taken aback. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I know everything, and I can help you make so much more money by bypassing Zhou. Right now, the money you are making is just a drop of dirt leaking out of the gaps between Zhou’s toes.”

“You’re selling out your boss? How can you be so bold? Zhou will kill you.” He chuckled a little, but his voice had an edge to it.

I grew frightened, wondering if I had miscalculated. Was there a chance he’d tell Zhou? I stuffed down the fear. “You know the old saying: unless a man looks out for himself, Heaven and Earth will destroy him. I want to make money. I want to succeed. And I think you’re too smart a businessman to let go of this opportunity.”

“No, you’re wrong. I am very happy working with Zhou. I’m content with the current arrangement.”

I didn’t understand how he could reject such a good opportunity. I struggled with the sudden disappointment, but I wasn’t ready to give up. “You can double and triple your profit by importing them yourself. I can arrange for everything. I know the suppliers and how to get through Customs. All you need to supply are the funds.”

“Nah, importing is too much trouble.” Scratching his scalp covered with one-inch long hairs, he sighed contentedly. “I am happy now. All I have to do is to buy machines from Zhou and then sell them to my customers. Very easy, quick money.”

In the mirror across the room, I saw my face losing its color. I couldn’t move my lips. This was it. My grand plan, which I had spent so long concocting and had bet my future on, had turned into a disaster. Now I had to walk out of that door, go back to my fax machine, and pretend that this had never happened.

“All right, Boss Song. I thought I should offer you this chance. Since you’re not interested, please forget what I said tonight.” I forced a smile and drew myself up, acting as dignified as possible, and turned to the door.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“I have to go back to the office now.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he called. “Why are you rushing? Come back. Sit down and let’s talk some more.” He pointed at the bed. I sat back down and tried to figure out what kind of game he was playing.

He leaned back. “How can I know that you’re not a spy Zhou sent to test me? You know, I don’t want to offend him and lose my business. He’s the only person importing machines to China right now.”

He sounded half serious and half joking.

I tried to figure out what he wanted to hear, but I could only see daggers behind his genial smile. With my palms open, I said, “Boss Song, I don’t know how to prove my sincerity to you. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“I barely know you. How can I trust you?” His small eyes were narrowed to slits, fixing on my face like a fox’s. Now I could tell where he was going. I felt disgusted, but I controlled myself.

He moved over a little on his bed and patted the space next to him. “Come here,” he said.

I hesitated.

“Come here,” he repeated more emphatically.

I sat next to him. He put his arm around my shoulder and cupped my chin, snickering. “You little thing, coming to my room in the middle of the night! What do you want from me?”

I tore his hand off of my face. “Come on, Boss Song, I didn’t come here for this.”

“Look, how can I believe you if you don’t prove yourself to me?” His voice became impatient and loud.

His words rang in my ears. I couldn’t believe that this big, fat guy breathing heavily on me, whose body smelled like meat, controlled my fate. I felt trapped. I wanted to make my fortune, the fortune I’d dreamed of for so long, so badly. I had given him my word, and now I had nothing left except my body. I didn’t know whether to push him away or embrace him. But I couldn’t dally. I had to make a decision. I steeled myself. If this was what my fate had arranged, if this was the price I had to pay for my dream of getting rich, I’d just close my eyes and do it.

Pushing down the wrath and indignation boiling inside me, I stripped off my clothes quickly and lay on my back. I spread my arms above my head. He got on top of me clumsily. The pungent smell of alcohol mixed with deodorant wafted over my face as he lowered his head and tried to stick his tongue into my mouth. I closed my teeth tightly and raised my chin as high as I could.

“Oh motherfucker, it feels so damn good!” he cried with ecstasy. He collapsed like a dead pig on a butcher’s chopping board. I just wanted to grab all my clothes and run away, but I stayed to explain to him what we would need to get the company started. I insisted that Xiao Yi and I be treated as equal partners, not just employees. He didn’t talk much, just listened, and I couldn’t tell if he was seriously interested.

“I’ll think about your idea,” he said in a perky voice as I stepped out into the corridor. I was too ashamed of what I had just done to press him, and I got out of that filthy hotel as quickly as possible. I didn’t regret it, though. I had done what I had to do.

Two weeks later, Song called me from the city of Xiamen in Fujian Province, where he was from, and told me that he’d found an agency that could import the machines for us in the way I had described to him. He offered to pay Xiao Yi and me five thousand yuan a month each and ten percent of the profits. I wanted more, but he held all the cards.

“Fly over right away, and we’ll find an office space together and set up a company here.” He was in a rush to get me off the phone. I confirmed with him that he would still bring Xiao Yi in, and then I agreed to meet him the next day. I didn’t know how I was going to get the money for the plane ticket, but then I remembered I had someone I could always count on.

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