“ I am so proud of you ,” Mrs . Zhang would say every time she saw Ah ’ Huang , “ So , so proud . You are just like my daughter .”
The paparazzi still trailed Ah ’ Huang . The Chinese Red Blossom did not wither so easily . Every now and then , she still made headlines : “ Chinese Red Blossom living in a fairytale !” Men blocked the streets and cooed over her when the driver drove Ah ’ Huang and Mr . Du around Shanghai . “ Bastards ,” Mr . Du would swear under his breath . “ She ’ s mine .”
Initially , Japanese aggression in China began as rumours . Ah ’ Huang dismissed them and refused to believe them . However , the media quickly verified the rumours . It dawned on Ah ’ Huang that the Japanese were indeed invading Chinaand Shanghai was their next target .
“ Out with the Japanese !” “ China power !” “ Against the Japanese we stand !” Protests raged the streets of Shanghai , the youth formed organisations that initiated movements against the Japanese . Flyers and posters were taped on the walls of every street and nightclub , offering a reward for any Chinese who reported traces of Japanese in Shanghai .
No one knows , no one knows . Ah ’ Huang tried to hypnotise herself . She hid behind the facade as she piled layer and layer of makeup on her face to cover her tear stains . She feared stepping out of Mr . Du ’ s house , she was phobic about being exposed in the light . The local newspaper published graphic photos of Japanese residents being publicly flogged until they crumpled as a bloody mess , embellishing them with captions that denoted victory and satisfaction . Why should I even fear ? I lived in Shanghai all my life ! Ah ’ Huang would protest between surges of tears . “ Musume , never forget your roots .” Her father ’ s voice would immediately reverberate within the walls of her mind . Sometimes , when Ah ’ Huang was alone in the shower , she would drop to her knees and bawl her eyes out ; she would bite her arm until it bled , to muffle her cries . Jiuming , jiuming , tasukete , tasukete !
She was afraid . She was at the pinnacle of success ; she could not afford to slip and fall . The news of her mother being beaten to death further shook Ah ’ Huang in her bones . She constantly felt out of breath , she was running , running , escaping from her own demon . When is this nightmare going to end ?
Alas , paper could not contain flames . Mr . Du returned home one evening , stormed up the marble staircase and flung open the door to Ah ’ Huang ’ s room . Ah ’ Huang had been sobbing ; her eyes were bloodshot , a stark contrast to her snowy skin .
Ah ’ Huang found Mr . Du difficult to read . His face was twisted in a nasty grimace , Ah ’ Huang read fury , disappointment , desperation . Mr . Du clenched his fists . “ Get out . Now .”
Without opposition , Ah ’ Huang brushed past Mr . Du , headed down the stairs , and silently stepped out the door . The heavy gates banged shut in her face with a loud “ clang ”.
It was as if Ah ’ Huang expected this day to come . Tears began streaming down her angular face , but she merely brushed them away , and raced towards her nightclub , her second home . Her form-fitting red qipao attracted the attention of passersby , many of whom gasped , pointed , and exchanged glances . Ah ’ Huang clung onto her red qipao as she fought against the wind , just as she was desperately clinging onto the final rays of hope .
The nightclub was dark when Ah ’ Huang arrived . Only the grandfather clock was ticking , ticking . There was almost no sign of life . Cautiously , Ah ’ Huang pushed open the door of the dressing room , just to find the dancers nestled in a corner . Their eyes widened as Ah ’ Huang approached them . Ah ’ Huang could feel them shuddering .
“ Go away ! You are not welcome .” Xi ’ Wen exclaimed . Her brows were furrowed , her large eyes glistening in the darkness . A strange sensation crept up Ah ’ Huang ’ s neck . She had seen those eyes before . In a dark environment . Tanabata Matsuri . Those eyes belonged to Xi ’ Wen . Ah ’ Huang almost choked . Xi ’ Wen knew she was Japanese .