Cigarette Holder

The first time Miss Zhao was seen was in a lively teahouse, not far from Tan Yang’s school.

Jingye Middle School was one of Shanghai’s leading Western-style academies, and Tan Yang felt nervous about meeting this teacher from Jingye. After school, Uncle Chen waited at the gate and took Tan Yang to the teahouse. The weather was cold, and as she entered, she saw steam rising everywhere, blurring the chilly air. Conversations and quarrels filled the space in a constant bustle. Following Uncle Chen up a wooden ladder, Tan Yang reached the second floor.

Upstairs, small private rooms were separated by tall-backed chairs. At the far end, Tan Yang saw Bi Qingtang seated opposite a young woman, perhaps in her twenties. Her long hair was loosely tied with a pale yellow scarf, draped at the nape of her neck. She wore a checkered cheongsam with a crimson cardigan over it. Bi Qingtang spoke to her, and she listened with a smile, sipping tea in small, delicate gulps. Her face was strikingly attractive, a gentle confidence shining through her affable demeanor, and her delicate features lent her an enchanting beauty.

Tan Yang approached timidly and called out, “Mr. Bi.” Bi Qingtang turned, delighted, and gestured across the table, “This is Miss Zhao, a teacher at Jingye Middle School.” Then he grinned at Miss Zhao, “Afraid you spend too much time enjoying your carefree romance, and now during the winter break, you’re idle—no romance to distract you. So I’ve found you a student. This girl is Tan Yang. Miss Zhao, please take care of her.” Miss Zhao rolled her eyes and retorted, “Don’t talk nonsense! That’s called free love. Mr. Bi, don’t tease me in front of this young lady.” With that, she turned and examined Tan Yang carefully, then praised sincerely, “So lovely!”

A little embarrassed, Tan Yang bowed and respectfully greeted, “Teacher Zhao.” “We’re not at school, no need for such formalities. My name is Zhao Ling—just call me Sister Ling.” Zhao Ling took Tan Yang’s hand and had her sit beside her. “How old are you?” “Fifteen.” “A classical beauty straight from a painting! You should’ve said so earlier. I shouldn’t have taken this easy job; it ought to go to one of the bachelor teachers at school.” Zhao Ling said solemnly to Bi Qingtang. Bi Qingtang ordered tea for Tan Yang and said lazily, “Forget it, male teachers are penniless and pretentious. Miss Tan is determined to become a wealthy lady.” “I am not!” Tan Yang protested earnestly. Bi Qingtang raised his brows, as if enlightened, “Oh, then I’ll find you a bachelor teacher instead.” He winked at Zhao Ling.

Seeing Tan Yang flushed with embarrassment and annoyance, Bi Qingtang burst into hearty laughter. After his amusement, he glanced at his watch, “I have a dinner engagement tonight. I’ll leave first. Uncle Chen will take you to the apartment later. Miss Zhao, the girl's studies are in your hands.” Zhao Ling gently put her arm around Tan Yang’s shoulder, “Rest assured, Mr. Bi. I have no ulterior motives like the male teachers; I’ll teach her wholeheartedly.” Bi Qingtang paid the bill and asked, “Miss Zhao, do you have anything to give?” “I do! Food and wine bags!” With Zhao Ling’s righteous expression, everyone laughed again.

The apartment occupied all three floors of a Western-style house, decorated in a British fashion. An old housekeeper lived there, tending and cleaning. Uncle Chen explained that it was mainly for hosting distinguished foreign guests from Bi Qingtang’s company. From this day, Tan Yang began tutoring with Zhao Ling. After school, Tan Yang went straight to the apartment. The housekeeper cooked, and Tan Yang did her homework. After about half an hour, dinner was ready, and Zhao Ling arrived, so teacher and student ate and chatted together. Afterwards, Zhao Ling tutored Tan Yang for two hours, and around seven or eight o’clock, she walked Tan Yang home, only leaving after watching her enter the gate. To Wu Ma and her uncle, Tan Yang simply said the school had started a night class, and they suspected nothing.

It didn’t take many days for Tan Yang to understand what Bi Qingtang meant by “carefree romance.” Worried about Zhao Ling returning home alone after escorting Tan Yang, her “romantic interest” soon appeared. His name was Li He, a university classmate of Zhao Ling, now working as a translator. He was tall, wore thick glasses, and appeared stern. Zhao Ling had Tan Yang call him Brother Li. After a while, Tan Yang discovered that Brother Li was nothing like his appearance. He loved to joke and tell stories; a minor incident on a tram retold by him would leave everyone in stitches. Despite Zhao Ling’s wit, her boyfriend’s dry humor outpaced her by far.

Though Zhao Ling was sharp-tongued, she truly had a teacher’s temperament—patient and skillful. At some point, she started calling Tan Yang “Yangyang” and “little sister,” with genuine affection for the obedient girl. Li He joined in, calling her the same. When studies tired them out, Zhao Ling would tease Li He, who sat reading in the next room. He looked like a bookworm, but was quick-witted, always turning Zhao Ling’s tricks back on her. Zhao Ling would feign anger, Li He would hurry over to appease her, apologizing profusely. One would pretend to pout, the other would apologize, and Tan Yang would giggle, watching the playfulness that resembled a family—elder sister, brother-in-law, and little sister.

In this semester’s final exams, Tan Yang finally ranked in the upper middle of her class. Zhao Ling hoped she could finish three semesters’ worth of courses in just one, so in September she could advance to junior high. Thus, most of the winter break was spent in the apartment, and Li He would join them after work. The spacious, comfortable rooms, filled with light, allowed Tan Yang to study and laugh with her kind Sister Ling and Brother Li. No matter how heavy the workload, it felt joyful. In this apartment, Tan Yang found the warmth of home she had long missed, and in the bustling, unfamiliar city, she finally discovered her own haven.

Since Tan Yang began studying with Zhao Ling, Bi Qingtang rarely appeared, only stopping by every ten days or so, occasionally bringing exotic snacks from his company’s import shop. Zhao Ling never hesitated to request her favorites, pointing out what she liked and what Tan Yang preferred, asking him to bring more next time. The following day, Uncle Chen would actually deliver the snacks Zhao Ling had mentioned, and Zhao Ling innocently told Li He, “I work hard teaching his student, eating some snacks isn’t too much, is it?”

Eating snacks was ordinary enough, but Zhao Ling stubbornly refused to accept any payment from Bi Qingtang for her tutoring, which was unusual. The first couple of times Uncle Chen offered money, she declined. When Bi Qingtang tried himself, Zhao Ling and Li He conspired to play the rogue—one said, “Mr. Bi is stingy, working hard for half a year and offering only this paltry sum, he ought to gift us a few apartment buildings instead.” The other added, “Mr. Bi isn’t stingy, he just lacks sincerity. Why doesn’t he give us some of his company’s opium? That’s the real money-maker!” Their antics left Bi Qingtang exasperated, and he hurriedly excused himself and left.

That evening, as Zhao Ling and Li He walked Tan Yang home, Tan Yang seemed troubled. Zhao Ling asked, and Tan Yang replied, “Sister Ling, you work so hard teaching me, but refuse payment from Mr. Bi. It makes me feel uneasy.” Zhao Ling, linking arms with Tan Yang, laughed, “You’re overthinking. I have my reasons for not taking Mr. Bi’s money. Our family owes him a great debt. My father worked as an accountant at a foreign firm. One deputy manager embezzled company funds and fled, and to appease the British head office, the Shanghai general manager pinned everything on my father. The firm was full of foreigners; no one spoke for him. The police in the concession were eager to find a scapegoat. Li He and I were about to graduate from university, interning at the time. Li He happened to be assisting the official translator at Mr. Bi’s company. We were desperate, so we bravely stopped Mr. Bi outside his company, asking for help.”

“We didn’t expect much, but to our surprise, Mr. Bi became furious and cursed, ‘Those damned foreigners are causing trouble on our turf again.’ With his mediation—both coaxing and intimidating—even the foreign firm, which the local authorities wouldn’t dare offend, submitted paperwork within days, and my father was released. Later, Li He graduated, and Mr. Bi helped him secure a good position. So, Mr. Bi is truly our benefactor. Being able to repay him by tutoring you is an honor; it gives me peace of mind.”

“What? Bad people can do good deeds, too.” Hearing Tan Yang’s unconscious muttering, Zhao Ling frowned in confusion, “Yangyang, Mr. Bi treats you well; why say that? Granted, he trades in opium, which isn’t a respectable business, but in Shanghai, many ordinary people bullied by foreigners in the concession rely on Mr. Bi, who, under the guise of the Chamber of Commerce, acts as their gangster protector. Because of Mr. Bi’s influence, all merchants must show him respect, and even those ruthless capitalists have to swallow their pride. The common folk secretly cheer him on! In this profit-driven, dark society, good and bad aren’t so easily distinguished. If you think you know right from wrong, it’s only from hearing others’ opinions; you haven’t seen the truth for yourself.”

Zhao Ling was getting passionate, but Li He interrupted with irritation, “Enough. If you go on, you’ll sound like a radical. Reading a few books about the October Revolution has made you bold—aren’t you afraid of trouble?” Zhao Ling heeded her boyfriend’s words and said no more. That night, lying in bed, Tan Yang thought perhaps her view of Bi Qingtang was somewhat biased. Without his help, her studies wouldn’t have gone so smoothly. She resolved to be grateful.

One day before the Spring Festival, Tan Yang was studying as usual with Zhao Ling in the apartment. Li He’s company was on holiday, so he lingered in the study, keeping Zhao Ling company. The doorbell rang, and the housekeeper answered. Hearing someone call “Mr. Bi,” Tan Yang and the others came out and saw Bi Qingtang, reeking of alcohol, waving them off, “Go about your business. I had lunch and drinks nearby, drank too much. I’ll lie down in the bedroom for a while, sober up, and then leave.” With that, everyone returned to their activities.

After more than an hour of study, Tan Yang stepped out for water and saw Bi Qingtang opening the balcony door, gazing down. A gust of cold wind swept inside, clearing Tan Yang’s clouded head. She returned, and when she came out again, she carried a glass of water.

“Mr. Bi.” Hearing Tan Yang call from behind, he turned and smiled, accepting the glass, “Just woke up, very thirsty. Thank you.” Tan Yang smiled and said nothing. They stood, each holding a glass, through which the faint blue sky across the street could be glimpsed, bringing a sense of calm and ease.

“Why aren’t you studying inside, leaving your teacher alone? Sneaking out here to slack off?” Tan Yang spun the glass in her hand, quietly defending herself, “I needed a break after studying so long. Sister Ling and Brother Li are inside, arguing vigorously.” Bi Qingtang raised his glass, but laughed at Tan Yang’s words, nearly choking, “Ha, that’s not arguing, that’s flirting!” Tan Yang grinned mischievously, “She’s still my teacher; even if it’s flirting, I can’t call it that.” Bi Qingtang looked at Tan Yang meaningfully, then broke into a wicked smile, leaning closer, “Little girl, do you even know what flirting is?” His face was only ten centimeters away, and as he breathed, a sweet, not unpleasant scent of alcohol wafted over. Tan Yang froze, blushing instantly. Bi Qingtang noticed and, having meant only to tease her, became flustered and quickly stepped back.

After an awkward silence, Tan Yang produced a handkerchief, unfolded it to reveal an ivory cigarette holder, about half a finger long, elegant and simple. She held it out with the handkerchief, smiling sweetly, “A small gift, please accept it, sir!” Bi Qingtang, who had been lazily leaning against the balcony rail, was startled and stood straight, his gaze complex as he looked at Tan Yang. It took a long moment before he picked up the ivory holder and frowned, “Why did you think to buy me something?” “I’ve been in Shanghai nearly a year, and Mr. Bi has helped me so much. I ought to thank you. It’s not much, really—I bought it some time ago, but hadn’t seen you, so I’m giving it today.” Hearing this, Bi Qingtang seemed relieved, though a faint sense of loss crept in. He glanced at the holder in his hand, “This isn’t cheap. You’re still a student—why spend money like this?” Tan Yang giggled, “I told my uncle I needed new clothes for New Year, so he gave me the money.”

Whether Bi Qingtang heard Tan Yang’s words or not, he seemed lost in thought. After a while, he suddenly asked, “When is your birthday?” Tan Yang was surprised, then replied carelessly, “Just last month—December 27th.” Bi Qingtang nodded, “It’s cold outside—go back inside.” Tan Yang nodded obediently and was about to leave when, on impulse, she turned and asked, “Mr. Bi, when is your birthday?”

Bi Qingtang lowered his head, gazing at the ivory holder, and said softly, “Today.”

End of Chapter 97.