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A Twentieth-Century Chinese Profile

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Contents

1. The Liu Family in Nan Tao, Shanghai.........................102. Alas a Samaritan Died So Young..............................223. A Ten-Year-Old's Oath.......................................364. Adolescent Years............................................545. On Tsinghua Campus..........................................686. Tien Oung and Lucy..........................................797. Homecoming..................................................898. From a Civil Servant to an entrepreneur.....................1039. The Liu Siblings Reunited...................................12010. Recapturing the Past.......................................13711. Tien Oung versus Cancer....................................155Life in Pictures...............................................177Family Trees...................................................309Appendix-Collected Works.......................................167

Chapter One

At the turn of the twentieth century, Shanghai, a coastal city guarding the east gate of China, was already carved into different "spheres of influence" by foreign powers as a result of successive wars that ended in the defeat of the Qing imperial dynasty. The west part of the city, with its eucalyptus-lined boulevards and eye-catching residential villas, was under French jurisdiction.

Known as the French Concession, the central part of the city, where most business enterprises were located, was under British rule. It was known as the Settlement. The northern part, called Hongkou, where mustached Japanese males swaggered about in the streets and high-coiffured Japanese females clattered on the pavements in their wooden foot gear, was under Japanese control. The Chinese government only had sovereignty over the southeast and most under-developed part of the city, which was known to Westerners as Nan Tao.

While the French Concession boasted of its neat and trim Western-styled residences with well-manicured lawns and tall eucalyptus trees, the Settlement took pride in its brisk business activities and Asphalt Street, and Hongkou prided itself on its vast, well-landscaped park, Nan Tao had nothing to boast of except its labyrinth of alleys and lanes. It had no tree-lined or asphalt streets but rather narrow cobblestone lanes. There were no tall buildings for business enterprises and no solid and comfortable houses for living. Most of the houses in this part were crudely built and huddled together without lawns or backyards. The inhabitants of the houses were mostly low-income schoolteachers, clerks, small tradesmen, peddlers, and other workers.

In the inner part of Nan Tao, a few clusters of better-shaped houses might be seen, although they were not large in dimension. They were two-story wooden structures, with small courtyards hemmed in by tall walls and black-painted front doors in the center. Such houses were owned or inhabited by well-to-do families or people with higher salaries. In one such house lived the Liu family.

Neighbors sometimes saw an elderly woman of nearly fifty, a bit on the heavy side, lean against a second-floor window, puffing leisurely on a brass water tobacco bottle. Sometimes neighbors saw her leave her house on a rickshaw and come back, again on a rickshaw, from her shopping missions with packages and parcels of different sizes. They never saw her go to the market for food. That was the cooking woman's job.

This elderly lady, Mrs. Liu, who had lost her husband three years earlier, was the head of the family. With a moderate fortune left behind by her husband, she was able to provide her only son with a fairly comfortable home and get him a wife when he was barely twenty. High-browed, with protruding cheekbones and a square jaw, the lady definitely had not been a beauty in her young days, but she undeniably was a woman of authority in her middle age. In spite of her weight, she moved about briskly on her small, bound feet, which were no more than three inches in length, issuing orders to the two woman servants in the house. She looked after her son's needs and concerns, though he was already a married man, personally brewing medicinal herbs for him. His dedicate, frail constitution had been the worry of her life. Her keen eyes had everything under observation, justifying her position as head of the Liu family.

One autumn day, in the third year after her son had gotten married, found the elderly lady sitting outside her son and daughter-in-law's bedroom. She had already been stationed there for three hours. Her face was stern and solemn, and her expectant eyes fixed on the bedroom door. She kept a calm front, but every nerve end inside her was taut. From time to time, her ears were invaded by painful moans and shrill sounds wafting through the door. Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Liu Jr., was in labor—her second labor. To ease her tension, the elderly lady took an occasional puff from her brass tobacco bottle, but her eyes never for a moment left the door.

"Congratulations, Madam." The midwife came out from the room, holding a tiny bundle in her arms. "Congratulations, Madam, another beautiful baby girl."

The elderly lady ignored the tiny bundle in the woman's outstretched arms. She left her seat without deigning to look at her second granddaughter.

Mrs. Liu Sr. had been looking forward to a grandson after Mrs. Liu Jr. had brought her a granddaughter the year before. Nothing was more important in the world than to have a grandson to prolong the bloodline of the Liu family. Throughout her life, she had been plagued by an implacable dread that her only son Liu Zao-qing's life might be snapped at any moment. Liu Zao-qing, born a frail child, was liable to all sorts of illness. No amount of nutritious food or medicinal brews could improve his health.

Mrs. Liu Sr. was bitterly disappointed and was seriously offended by her daughter-in-law's failure to produce male offspring for the family. She did not bother to step into her daughter-in-law's room to offer a comforting word, but shut herself in her own room for hours. The two woman servants in the house had a difficult time for days.

The second granddaughter made a very brief stay in this world. She made her hasty exit on the fourth day after her birth. This might have been a relief to the elderly lady. However, to her son Zao-qing, the baby girl's death was a sad loss. The young father, who loved children, whether boys or girls, had been deeply grieved.

Mrs. Liu Jr., whose maiden name was Zhu Zhi-yuan, was the eldest daughter of a small tradesman who had very little education yet was eager to gain respectability. To him, it was a long-cherished wish fulfilled to have his daughter married into the respectable Liu family. He was glad to have the well-educated young gentlemen Liu Zao-qing as son-in-law in spite of the latter's frail constitution, which had frustrated quite a number of parents who had marriageable daughters.

Zao-qing's young wife had keenly felt that her mother-in-law was not happy with her for bringing her a granddaughter instead of a grandson. The knitted brow and the grim look on the elderly woman's face were clearly silent accusations of her failure to deliver a boy. The moody atmosphere in the house when her husband was absent from home for work was suffocating, and it compelled her to find ways and means to please the elderly lady. It was no easy job, for the elderly lady was fastidious and always fault-finding. The only thing that somewhat placated the elderly lady's displeasure with her was her cooking skill. Zhi-yuan, being the eldest daughter of the Zhu family, looked after the catering of the family, and she was an excellent cook.

When her second pregnancy was confirmed, the clouds on her mother-in-law's face lifted, the knitted brow smoothed out, and the oppressive atmosphere in the house vanished. The young Mrs. Liu was able to breathe freely and walked about with brisk steps again. She firmly believed she would not disappoint her mother-in-law this time. This time, it must be a boy, she told herself. With full confidence, she told this to her husband, who responded, "Boy or girl, it's a blessing to have another baby."

The labor lasted longer than the first delivery and caused her more excruciating pain. With all her remaining strength, she ousted the little thing out of her body.

"A baby girl!" the midwife cried. The young mother's heart contracted with dread for herself and sadness for her second baby girl. Still, she shed tears upon the baby girl's death.

The elderly lady's brows were more deeply knotted; the look on her face became more forbidden and formidable. She kept a moody silence all day long, speaking to servants only when necessary. Only the presence of her son in the evening when he came home from work brought back the wisp of smile to her face. Life for a young woman who failed to bring a male heir to a family could be very miserable.

Zhi-yuan was instantly in an emotional turmoil when the old doctor declared she was pregnant again. This happened six months after the second baby girl's death. Why so soon? I have barely managed to recover from a most difficult time. Am I going to repeat it? Oh, what if it is a girl again? Better get rid of the fetus before it is too late. No, no can do. Maybe this time Zao-qing and I will be blessed with a boy. It would be a heinous crime to deprive the little thing of the right to grow. Every day, Zhi-yuan was on tenterhooks, in spite of Zao-qing's kind and comforting words.

Miraculously, the news of Zhi-yuan's pregnancy transformed Mrs. Liu Sr. into a different woman. From a cold, moody unfeeling woman she suddenly metamorphosed into a symbol of kindness and gentleness. She was all smiles and amiability to her daughter-in-law, treating her like a princess. This time, it must be a boy, she believed. She prayed to the Goddess of Mercy more often with each passing day. She recited more sutra each day. She kept more days for fasting. In contrast to her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Liu Sr. was in fervor of excitement every day.

A week before the day of expectation, Zhi-yuan was sent to the newly established maternity hospital in Nan Tao after a long argument between mother and son. The elderly lady was dead against the idea, and the son insisting on it.

Mrs. Liu Sr. was not allowed to station herself outside the delivery room in the hospital. She fidgeted in her seat in the waiting room, plagued by anticipation, anguish, suspense, and fear in turn.

"It's a boy, Mother." Zao-qing, lowering himself, whispered into his mother's ear.

"A boy! Bless the Goddess of Mercy!" the dazed elderly lady murmured and looked at her son. Happy tears welled up in her eyes.

The birth of the first boy, Tien Sen, in the Liu family elevated the young Mrs. Liu to an enviable height. From a humble daughter-in-law who had to watch every step she took, who had to speak to her mother-in-law with bated breath, and who had to make herself invisible so as not to incur the elderly lady's wrath, Zhi-yuan now became a woman who walked about freely with a tossed-up head, facing and talking to the elderly lady as her equal.

The gloomy atmosphere in the Liu house was superseded by the baby's cooing, the elderly lady's short, brisk steps around the baby's cradle, and her cheerful chattering. Mrs. Liu Sr. was genuinely grateful to her daughter-in-law for eventually producing for her a male heir to prolong the bloodline of the Liu family. The grandmother hung around the baby's cradle all day long, her heart full of gratitude and love. It was at this point that the poor little girl, Tien Wei, the first grandchild, had a tiny share of her grandmother's love.

Zhi-yuan's position in the family was further consolidated by her bringing into the family three more boys in succession at two-year intervals.

Surrounded by four boys and a girl, Mrs. Liu Sr., now turning sixty, felt she was the happiest woman in the world. The four boys of eight, six, four, and two, all looked sturdy and healthy. She had no fear that the bloodline of the Liu family would be snapped short. Should anything happen to her son Zao-qing, any one of the four boys could continue and prolong the Liu bloodline. And her worry about her son's health had eased a bit in her later years, since Zao-qing's health seemed to be improving as he neared thirty.

The gratitude that Mrs. Liu Sr. had for her daughter-in-law knew no bounds. Only one thing rankled her heart. Her son Zao-qing's devotion and love for his wife Zhi-yuan seemed to have usurped her place in her son's heart. A mother's possessive love for her only son expected whole-hearted love from him. Jealousy, like a gnat, occasionally gnawed her heart, but her gratitude to Zhi-yuan soon restored her good sense.

It was a peaceful passing away for Mrs. Liu Sr. Sweeping a last glance at her grandchildren, four boys and a girl, the old lady closed her eyes, a wisp of contented smile hovering over her lips. Tien Oung, the second Liu boy, was six years old when his grandmother died. At his age, he had only a dim recollection of his grandmother — a doting, indulgent woman who was all smiles. He did not know what a difficult time his mother Zhi-yuan had had living under her mother-in-law's roof during the first few years after she married into the Liu family. The old lady might not have left any impression in the minds of her two younger grandsons, Tien Xiong, age four, and Tien Ji, a mere two-year-old toddler.

Chapter Two

With a growing family, Liu Zao-qing found the old house too cramped. He moved to live in a lane in another part of Nan Tao. It was a two-story triplex house with a fairly large courtyard in front where the growing children could play.

This house, bigger and having more rooms than the old one, required a higher rent. A frugal woman by nature and practice, Zhi-yuan took in two tenants to reduce the burden of higher rent. Both tenants had several children. Together with the Liu children, they formed a small community. With people coming and going all the time, the front door always stood open till nightfall.

Liu Zao-qing, born prematurely, weighing barely five pounds at his birth, passed a very different childhood. He was liable to the invasion of all sorts of infantile illness and passed most of his days in bed. Parental love and attention, medicinal brews, and tonic soup pulled him through childhood but never helped to build a strong constitution for him.

Liu Zao-qing was always a skinny boy, pale and frail. His fingers, wrapped in a thin layer of skin with a bit of flesh, looked like chicken claws. He was of average height but as thin as a pole. Zao-qing presented a pathetic picture to his neighbors and teachers at school.

However, as a boy, Zao-qing appealed to his teachers as well. It was a pity that Zao-qing was born a weak and fragile child, but he was compensated with good looks and a keen intellect. Thick, glossy hair crowned the top of a well-shaped head. He had a broad forehead with sparkling eyes underneath. A straight nose with a distinctive tip. A thin-lipped mouth ready to offer a welcome smile. A stiff jaw line. These features, each in its right place, composed an attractive face suggestive of gentility, kindness, high sensitivity, and intellectual susceptibility.

Zao-qing's life spanned the transitional years of the old order being replaced by the new. His adolescent years saw the ushering in of the Republican days. It was a period of enlightenment. Zao-qing was exposed to all kinds of new ideas and new influences. He had his high-school education in a missionary school. The teachers took pity on his delicate health yet praised his remarkable cultural progress, and the British missionary teacher marveled at his high susceptibility to the English language. By the time of his graduation, Zao-qing could write flawless English compositions. He could speak English as fluently as an English native-speaker—a skill that was rare among Chinese people at the time.

The tall, beefy middle-aged British official frowned when Zao-qing walked into his official for the interview. A weakling! A half-wit! A midget! Or a misfit! How dare you apply for a position at the Customs House (which was then under British control). Sheer daydreaming! The British official must have felt insulted, but he maintained his official politeness and gestured for the piteous-looking applicant to take a seat opposite him.

Zao-qinq looked at his interviewer quietly and with due respect, waiting for his questions. The British official threw him an intimidating look, which Zao-qing returned with a calm smile. Something exuding from the young man's eyes and inner being seemed to quell the official's irrational anger. This compelled him to scrutinize the Chinese youth before him more closely and neutrally. He was not at all a scarecrow of a Chinaman. There was something in this pathetic-looking young man.

There was no written record of the interview at the Customs House between Zao-qing and this tall, beefy British official. However, this much Zao-qing repeated to his mother when he returned from the interview at the Customs House: "Oh, boy! You are on. You start working in this office next Monday. Boy, is your father British? Or your mother?"

(Continues...)

Excerpted from A Twentieth-Century Chinese Profileby MARGARET LIU WEN TSAI Copyright © 2012 by Margaret Liu Wen Tsai. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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