All the Flowers in Shanghai by Duncan Jepson Read Free Book Online Page B

gardens. When I met Bi next, I desperately wanted to tell him everything. But he seemed as calm and serene as he had every other day, and all the thoughts bubbling inside me suddenly seemed much too silly, so I kept silent. I smiled and sat quietly beside him, kneading my toes in the grass. Grandfather looked agitated, mumbling that he was going to see if one of the fig trees had blossomed. As soon as he had left, Bi turned to me and shifted a little closer.
    “My father told me that girls like flowers.” As he said this, he shyly produced three pretty peonies with white petals and beautiful yellow centers.
    “I do like these! Thank you. They are called Paeonia lactiflora . They are very pretty.”
    “What did you say? Is that Chinese?”
    “It’s something my grandfather taught me. He told me it’s an ancient language, as old as Chinese but the people who spoke it have all gone. He said they had huge cities and temples like we do. He told me they were magnificent.”
    I held the petals to my face and breathed in their freshness. They smelled of daybreak. I laid them in my lap and caressed the petals between my thumb and first finger. They were soft and delicate.
    “I never thought I would find someone in the city who liked flowers. You should come and live in the countryside. In summer there are flowers everywhere. Is living in the city good? It looks very busy and noisy to me.”
    “Except for going to school, I am not allowed to go into it without my grandfather . . . and he only likes to come to these gardens.”
    “We should go and have a look together.”
    He tempted me, but I knew we should stay in the gardens. Even my being with him would make my parents very angry if they found out.
    Grandfather returned and stood over us, looking at the flowers that Bi had given me.
    “Bi, did you give those to Feng Feng? Paeonia lactiflora . . . very pretty. Xiao Feng, I hope you named them correctly?” Grandfather gently asked us, though he was obviously still agitated. “Xiao Feng, remember to cut their stems a little before putting them in water when you get home. Then they will not wilt so quickly.”
    “I will, Grandfather,” I replied. “I’ll see you at home.”
    We watched him walk away.
    When I went back to the house later I saw Grandfather speaking to Ba. They stood close together, Grandfather straight-backed and Ba looking down, his hands by his sides. They talked slowly and erratically. They talked as father and son, Grandfather speaking and Ba listening respectfully. When Ba tried to interrupt, Grandfather held up his hand, signaling that he must wait. When Grandfather had finished speaking, Ba told him something that obviously stunned him. They stood together in silence for a moment before Grandfather retreated to his room.
    I don’t know what they said but everyone in the house began to work even more feverishly, as if sheer haste and activity could bring the wedding day upon us more quickly. Each separate task had to be accomplished perfectly: a misplaced stitch or poorly wrapped present might upset the gods and bring a curse upon us, ruining the day. Grandfather lost all interest in the gardens and sat in his chair, pale and anxious. I had not yet seen any of the doctors Ma had mentioned during her argument with Ba, but after Grandfather spoke to him I saw them start to arrive.
    The first was a local man who visited every day bringing Sister many traditional medicines made from fresh herbs and dried animal parts, which needed to be brewed into medicinal teas. He was a withered old man who looked like the desiccated creatures and twigs he brought with him. He would shuffle around the outside of the house, checking for objects that would create bad feng shui then remove them before coming inside to visit Sister. There was also a man who practiced Western medicine, who came carrying a neat little bag of bottles and pills. He wore spectacles and was smartly dressed in a gray ma qua and Western