Shanghai Redemption by Qiu Xiaolong Read Free Book Online

looking for articles about legal reform. In China, the first sign of change would have appeared in cyberspace. There was still a week before he was to start his new job, but Chen might as well get a head start and do some research.
    After an hour or so, he gave up in resignation. He hadn’t found anything interesting, except some old news about Zhongtian. Zhongtian was an “independent scholar” who had posted articles on his blog about the idea of separation of powers between the legislative, executive, and judicial branches of government. The People’s Daily had responded with an editorial declaring that this idea would never work in China. Zhongtian had argued that under the one-party system, where it was taken for granted that the Party’s interest was above the law, any talk of legal reform was just a show, full of politically correct language, yet empty of anything real. As a result, Zhongtian had been invited by Internal Security to meet them for “a cup of tea,” which meant a serious warning delivered in person. When Zhongtian continued posting, he got into some “tax trouble”—at least, that was the word on the Internet.
    That incident spoke to the possible role of the Legal Reform Committee, Chen thought, with a frown. Reform was just another umbrella word in the politics of China, capable of referring to anything, or nothing. At bottom, the legal system was part and parcel of the Party system.
    Annoyed at the whole concept, he began replying to the e-mails from his new office, using similar, equally empty language. He didn’t bother to download, much less read, any of the attachments.
    It soon wore him out. He got up and put a bowl of instant noodles in the microwave. While waiting, he sent his pictures from Suzhou electronically to a nearby convenience store to have prints made for his mother. He selected same-day service, so he could pick them up later that afternoon.
    He called his mother to tell her about his visit to Suzhou. He made a detailed report about the planned renovation of his father’s tomb and promised to bring the pictures over soon, possibly that evening. She sounded pleased.
    Afterward, as he was throwing the paper bowl of the noodles into the trash bin, he started going through the pile of junk mail he’d let collect on his kitchen counter. Among the piles, he found an invitation from White Cloud for the grand opening of her high-end hair salon on West Huaihai Road. The envelope contained a VIP voucher in the amount of five thousand yuan. He’d already missed the event.
    He’d met White Cloud on a case several years ago. At that time he was an “emerging cadre”—a man on the rise—and she was a “college/karaoke girl” working in a KTV salon. Afterward, she briefly worked as a “little secretary” for him while he was doing a translation project. They’d kept in touch ever since. On several occasions, she’d been helpful, and he was sure it wasn’t because of his position. She had no need to curry favor with him. This invitation was yet another of her generous gestures.
    It really wasn’t easy for a provincial girl, with no connections or background, to become a successful entrepreneur in Shanghai. Now she had her own salon, and on West Huaihai Road at that. The very location spoke volumes. On impulse, he ordered a large bouquet of flowers to be delivered to her salon.
    And with that, he was ready to set out.
    *   *   *
    Half an hour later, Chen arrived at the Shanghai Foreign Liaison Office on Shanxi Road.
    The visit was related to a recent incident assigned to the Special Case Squad, the so-called dead pig case. The trouble had all started when a British visitor came down with food poisoning from some sausage made with bad pork. Then everything got out of control: pictures of thousands of dead pigs floating down the Huangpu River turned up online, creating an