We walked out into the pouring rain. It seemed as if the whole world was weeping. Throughout our childhood, youth and middle age, we had stood shoulder to shoulder on every important issue. Over the years, Niang must have resented this special bond between us. In the end, seeking to destroy it, she had baited James into participating in a fraud he detested. Nothing would have pleased her more than to see the two of us at each other’s throats, fighting over her legacy.
As I watched him hurry away, hunched against the rain, I called after him, ‘! San ge! (Third Elder Brother) ! It was a great misfortune for us to have had Niang for a stepmother. Don’t worry, I won’t contest her will. I will never allow her to triumph over me.’
CHAPTER 32
Luo Ye Gui Gen
Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots
On an overcast March day in 1994, I received a letter from my aunt begging me to go to her in Shanghai. The news enveloped me in gloom, mirroring the unseasonably chilly Southern Californian weather. As I went about my daily routine at the surgical centre, there was an ache which jolted me whenever I thought of her dying alone in her big house.
Inside, a quiet, small voice whispered that this visit would be the last. Instinctively, I recoiled from the intolerable thought that Aunt Baba would soon be gone for ever. Throughout the long flight from Los Angeles to Shanghai via Tokyo, I made elaborate plans to take her to America and have her seen by the best specialists.
Shanghai in the 1990s had been transformed into a city bursting with energy and vitality. Cars jammed the streets. Tall brown cranes dotted building sites. The horizon was sheathed in a hazy film of dust as old buildings were toppled and replaced.
Once more, I entered the familiar lane where she had lived for the last fifty years. It was now littered with broken concrete and construction material. I wound my way around shining motor cycles and imported luxury automobiles. From the garden, I pushed open the newly painted French glass doors, stepped into the old living-room which was now her bedroom and embraced my aunt and all my beginnings.
She was bedridden following a fall which broke her hip. X-rays showed that she had cancer of the colon which had already spread. To my surprise, I found her cheerful and free from pain, perhaps because of the small doses of morphine she was being given. She was surrounded by neighbours and friends who congregated at her bedside day and night. In this cosy, noisy, gregarious world of the ‘all-Chinese’ sickbed, so different from the stark, sterile solitude of the American hospital room, her life had assumed the astounding quality of a continuous farewell party.
Bob, who had accompanied me, had been learning Mandarin. He tried his newly acquired skills on my aunt, though, in truth, it resembled no dialect I had ever heard. After a while, Aunt Baba interrupted him in the middle of a long and convoluted sentence, asking what tongue he was speaking. When told it was Mandarin, she commented mischievously, ‘Next time, before you start talking to me in Chinese, please give me advance notice, “I am going to speak to you in Mandarin now.” Unless forewarned, my old ears might think you’re still speaking English.’
I had returned once again to the warm cocoon of Aunt Baba’s world, safe in the knowledge that she was the one person to whom I would always matter. Here, clasping each other’s hands and listening to her lilting Shanghai speech, I forgot the throb that had been pounding my head ever since I learned of her illness. Instead of fear and discontent, Aunt Baba was floating in tranquil euphoria. She categorically refused to consider surgery or even hospitalization, gently chiding me for my grandiose plans of rescue which she labelled ‘macabre’ and ‘unnatural’.
‘I have had a good run of eighty-nine years. It is time to accept the end. Since there is no hope of a cure, why prolong the agony of dying?’
Up to the last, her anxieties were centred on the loved ones she must leave behind. She wanted to give me strength to come to terms with all my hurt. I nestled on the bed next to her thin, frail body… the way I used to as a child when sleep would evade me because things were terrible and life seemed devoid of hope. And she comforted me, just as in the past, by stroking my hair and telling me a story. She called it ‘The Incurable Wound’.
‘A long time ago, there lived a child called Ling-ling who was a good artist. After her mother’s death, her father’s favourite concubine began to maltreat her by showing preference towards her own children. Ling-ling had no one to play with and spent her time painting. Her pictures became famous and were sold for many taels of silver. Her stepmother now grew jealous. One night, she crept up to Ling-ling’s bed and stuck a dirty nail into the child’s hand, spreading faeces on the nail to cause an infection.
‘In a few days, Ling-ling’s hand became red and swollen. Though the nail was removed, pus poured from the wound. However, Ling-ling continued to paint.
‘Now a strange thing happened. The wound never healed, but Ling-ling’s paintings became better and better. The more the pus exuded, the greater the beauty of her work. In the whole of China, there was nothing like it. The pain in her hand seemed to imbue Ling-ling with an essence of invincibility, enabling her to zhan er bi sheng, dou er bi ke (prevail in every battle, overcome each adversity).
‘The Emperor himself heard of Ling-ling’s masterpieces. She was summoned to the palace to paint the portrait of the crown prince. They fell in love and married. However, despite the administration of innumerable poultices prescribed by the best doctors in China, Ling-ling’s wound would not heal. She continued to paint superbly until her death at a ripe old age.’
Her words were like a gentle breeze, blowing away the dark clouds. Her belief in my worth had always sustained me throughout all my difficult passages. And now, her story touched me with the artistry of a magic wand, bringing harmony and solace.
Day after day, as I sat beside her and watched her lapse into a coma from which she never woke, I believed that my nearness would help her along her final journey. Reflecting on her eighty-nine years, which had spanned most of the twentieth century, I realized how wise my mother had been to entrust me to the care of my remarkable aunt. In her modest and unassuming way, she had guided me towards a spirit of independence which she herself had manifested by rebuffing Niang and remaining in Shanghai. Aunt Baba was not one to dwell on the bitter hardships she suffered during the Cultural Revolution. Love, generosity and humour never left her.
Life had come full circle. Luo ye gui gen. (Falling leaves return to their roots.) I felt a wave of repose, a peaceful serenity.
Index
Baba, Aunt 11, 14, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21, 24, 28, 39, 42, 44, 83–4, 108, 111, 219, 271–4 and Adeline 59–60, 61–2, 73, 86
at the Women’s Bank 52–3, 76, 80, 193
financial dependence 49–50, 75, 83
household, charge of 25, 29, 32–3, 38, 88, 89
life in Communist China 87, 201–3, 204, 205, 218, 222–6, 271–4
Bai-lun Soon, Byron 157, 158–73
Beijing 87, 93, 227
California 162–3
Chiang Kai-shek 22, 30, 82, 87, 136
Chien, Miss 55, 56, 89, 193, 194–5, 197, 202, 252–3
child slaves 100
Ching, Martin 151, 152–4, 157, 158–9, 160
Chun, Professor Daphne 144–5, 149
Cold War 138
Communist China ‘blacks’ 203 campaigns and purges 194, 198–9, 201, 204
Cultural Revolution 138, 139, 180, 205, 225, 226, 230
four class system 224–5
Great Leap Forward 199
People’s Republic of China declared 88
Communists 22, 82, 87, 88–9, 92, 93, 94, 118–19, 194
Crawford, Alcenith 207, 208
Decker, Karl 128–31, 134, 135, 137, 139–40
Deng Xiaoping 204, 205, 218
earthquake (1976) 204–5
foot binding 5, 11
Frederick, Uncle 90, 196, 197
Gang of Four 205
Gold Yuan Certificates 83, 88
Grand Aunt 5, 7, 8
–9, 15, 17, 75–6, 87, 197, 198, 204
Hong Kong 94–5, 141, 148–9, 218 British-Sino joint declaration 233–4
Cantonese Chinese 148, 150
economic boom 148, 150, 190–1
Peak area 143
political unrest 179, 180, 244–5
Hsu, Mrs 168, 169, 170
Hwa Chong Hong 12, 14, 15–16
Japan 13, 15–16, 22, 30, 31
Katz, Joan 126–7
Korean War 142
Kowloon 95, 233
Kuomintang 22, 30, 82, 87, 92, 118
Lam, Beverley 181, 182
Lao Lao, Aunt 26, 94, 119, 200, 201
Leland, Professor John 231, 241
Li, K.C. 12, 14, 15, 16
Liang, Susan 1, 31, 42, 45–6, 55, 56, 79, 82, 121, 185–90, 232, 236, 253, 261–2 disowned 188–9
Liang, Tony 185–6
Lin Biao 93, 203–4
Liu Shi-kuen 229
London 122
Lu, Mr 232, 236, 254, 255
Macau 180
Mah, Professor Robert 208–11, 214, 240, 242, 258, 266, 267, 272
Manchu dynasty 11, 21
Manchuria 22, 92
Mao Zedong 82, 88, 199, 203, 205, 255
marriage customs 8, 25
McFadden, Professor (Lo Mac) 120, 141, 144, 145, 149
Monte Carlo 180, 212
Morris, Ginger 170
Nanking 30
Nantao 6
New Territories 95, 233
Port Harcourt 142, 178, 182
Prosperi, Jeanne Virginie see Yen, Jeanne Prosperi
racial and gender discrimination 125–6, 148, 206–7
Red Army 88
Red Guards 201–2, 203
Sacred Heart Convent and Orphanage 99–106, 113–14
St Joseph’s Catholic School for Girls 27, 33, 36, 91
Schilling, (Aunt) Reine 27, 28, 93, 94, 95, 96, 247
Schilling, (Uncle) Jean 94, 97
Schilling, Victor 96
Second World War 31, 54
Shanghai 5–7, 14, 18, 30, 31, 38, 43, 88, 220–2, 271
Shanghai Women’s Bank 9, 16, 52, 193, 195–6, 198, 222
Sino-Japanese War 22, 30, 31–2, 82
Suen, Mary 100, 101, 102, 103, 112, 113
Sun, S.T. 139
Sun Yat Sen 11
Sung, Lydia 1–2, 33, 44, 50, 51, 52, 56–9, 118–19, 200–1 and Adeline 34–5, 227–32, 237–9, 240, 263
disowned 189
marriage 77–9
and Niang 119, 219–20, 232, 235, 241–2, 259–60, 265–6, 269
Sung, Samuel 77, 78–9, 118, 119, 200, 201, 228, 229
Sung Tai-ling 228, 229, 231, 238, 240–1
Sung Tai-way 228, 229–31, 240, 241, 242–3
Taiwan 118
Tang, C.S. 132–3, 134, 138
Ternan, Lady 124
Tiananmen Square 204, 244
Tianjin 12, 13–14, 22, 27, 30, 31, 34, 91, 93
Tien, H.H. 135–7, 138–9
Ting, Dr Mary Mei-Ing 20, 21–2, 23, 144
Tsan Yuk Hospital 146–7, 148–9
United States Chinese immigration 153
discrimination in 206–7
private medical practice 171, 206
women physicians 207
Wu Chun-mei 69
Ye Ye 7–8, 13, 15, 28, 35, 37, 42, 44, 48, 49, 50, 51, 80, 85, 86 business interests 12, 14, 16
financial dependence 49, 75, 76, 107
in Hong Kong 83, 84, 87, 95–6, 107–11
illness and death 107–8, 110–11, 114
loneliness 76–7, 110
marriage 10–11
Yen, Edgar 2, 30, 35, 36, 72, 80–1, 89, 125, 183–5, 189, 217, 233, 256, 263 in England 123, 125
medical career 125, 183–5
Yen, Franklin 31, 32, 36, 44, 55–6, 58, 65, 79, 82, 107, 109, 119–21, 187
Yen, Gregory 2, 30, 35, 39–40, 45, 50, 57–8, 59, 62, 79–80, 89, 141, 142–3, 149–50, 155, 181, 182–3, 189–90, 233, 237, 250, 256, 262, 263 in Canada 182–3
in England 122–4
marriage 178
in Nigeria 178, 179–80
Yen, James 2, 42, 56, 57, 81–2, 89–90, 108–9, 117, 142, 143, 150, 189–90, 220, 234, 235, 243, 245, 246–7, 249, 255, 263, 268–70 and Adeline 35–6, 63, 82, 156, 256–7
in England 115, 122, 128
marriage 180–2
and Niang 191–2, 216–17, 219, 232, 233, 250–1, 252–3, 270
and Niang’s will 257–60, 262
works for father 141, 178, 182–3
Yen, Jeanne Prosperi (Niang) 29, 31, 32, 50–1, 76, 82, 95, 107, 109, 149, 172, 173, 181, 183, 184, 213, 215–17, 224, 232–3, 264 and Adeline 46–7, 63–5, 67–8, 70–1, 96, 98, 100, 114–15, 125, 146–7, 175, 176, 217, 228–9, 253–5
controls household 52
and Franklin’s death 119–21, 187
funeral and will 252–60, 262
and Hong Kong society 97, 150, 253
and husband’s will 2–3, 236–7
illness and death 245–51
and James 191–2, 216–17, 219, 232, 233, 250–1, 252–3, 270
and Lydia 119, 219–20, 232, 235, 259–60, 265–6, 269
marriage 26, 27–30
and stepchildren 60, 78–9, 81
and Susan 45–6, 185, 186–7, 232, 236
Yen, Joseph Tsi-rung 11, 41, 45, 194–5, 200, 211 and Adeline 36–7, 69–71, 84–6, 112–13, 116–17, 144–5, 156, 174–5, 215
and Aunt Baba 49–50, 83–5
British citizenship 179
business interests 2, 16–17, 30–1, 37, 75–6, 83, 97, 142, 178, 196, 212, 232
and children’s upbringing 47, 50, 54, 66, 81
and Edgar 183–4
education 14–15
and first wife 20–1, 23–4
funeral and will 1–3, 235–7, 266–7
and Gregory 179–80, 183
Hong Kong, moves to 83–4, 87
illness and death 212–17, 219, 232, 235
and Lydia 119
and second wife 25–30, 121, 173–4
and Susan 187–9
and Ye Ye 49, 107–8
Yen Lam, Louise 181, 182, 189, 191–2, 245
Yen Mah, Adeline 20, 23, 30 at university in England 122–40
and Aunt Baba 59–60, 61–2, 73, 86, 272–4
childhood 34–117
children 165–6, 211
emigrates to US 156, 157
and father 36–7, 69–71, 84–6, 112–13, 116–17
first marriage and divorce 160, 176–7, 207–8
Hong Kong visits 140–1, 218–19
and James 35–6, 63, 82, 156, 256–7
and Karl Decker 128–31, 134, 135, 137, 139–40
and Lydia 34–5, 227–32, 237–9, 240, 263
medical career 140–1, 144–7, 148–9, 154, 163–4, 170, 206
and Niang 46–7, 63–5, 67–8, 70–1, 96, 98, 100, 114–15, 125, 146–7, 175, 176, 217, 228–9, 253–5
and Niang’s will 259–60
playwriting success 113–14, 115–16
pneumonia 108–9, 112–13
Yen, Matilda 178, 179, 182
Yen Ren Yong-ping 18–19, 20, 22–4
Yen Wang Jie-xiang (Grandmother) 10–11, 14, 31, 38–41, 52, 196
Yu Chun-yee 130, 132
Zhou Enlai 204
Adeline Yen Mah, Falling Leaves: The Memoir of an Unwanted Chinese Daughter
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