Dinner Party
Ho Ji-Ch’ing spent a few languid days at Bai’s residence. Since there was little to do and Bai didn’t have the time to take him out and about, he could only meander around with Feng Guo-Chung and Hsiao-Shun.
The incident at Dong’an Market had left Feng in a lingering state of apprehension. “Ch’i-yeh, isn’t it a bit dangerous to go out with just the three of us?”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing gave a confident snort. “It’ll be fine. If Arimitsu could bring us to Tientsin, the last thing he’d do is allow me to be killed. Heavens know what the j.a.panese are up to, we might as well enjoy ourselves while we can.”
Feng did place a certain amount of trust in the former commander-in-chief. When even the prime target was optimistic about his longevity, as a mere attendant, Feng could safely restore his heart to its original position.
The only times Bai Su-Ch’en came home were during the evenings, when Ho Ji-Ch’ing found himself beaming uncontrollably whenever he laid eyes on his little uncle. He was a man who rarely wore genuine smiles; they made him look almost boyish, taking years off his face.
Bai had no objection to his nephew’s smiles. But despite the pretty smiles, Ho Ji-Ch’ing was still a man, not to mention one who exudes a lazy sort of ferociousness and whose childish antics often turned physical—there was only so much Bai could take.
Three days went by like so. On the fourth day, he returned from work and found a momentary respite of peace and quiet, since Ho Ji-Ch’ing had received an invitation from Arimitsu Kiyoshi earlier in the afternoon and had left to attend his dinner party.
Sitting in a private room at the Astor Hotel, an expressionless Ho Ji-Ch’ing took in the guests around table and only felt perplexed.
Arimitsu Kiyoshi wore a dinner suit, his greased hair parted on the side and held down by what must have been a large amount of hair tonic. Pointing to a short man next to him who sported a nearly identical face and build, he announced to Ho Ji-Ch’ing with a grin: “Mr. Ho, this is my brother, Arimitsu Tsutomu.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing supposed he should be polite to Little Uncle’s boss, but while he was still mulling over the thought, Arimitsu Kiyoshi had already abandoned his brother and proceeded to point to the burly man next to him. “This is Colonel Nikaido.”
Colonel Nikaido wore a black kimono and a commanding yet amicable expression. A small and perfectly square toothbrush moustache sat above his lips.
Ho Ji-Ch’ing’s mind struggled to catch up.
Before he could arrange a smile for Nikaido, Arimitsu Kiyoshi pointed to a lama in red silk robes. “This is Tulku[1] Tsongkha.”
His finger then veered to the last guest. “This is Prince Altan.”
Having no alternative, Ho Ji-Ch’ing directed his belated smile entirely to the young Mongol prince.
Prince Altan appeared to be barely over twenty. He had a round face, a straight nose, and large eyes; he looked nothing like a Mongol. He threw a limpid glance at Ho Ji-Ch’ing and immediately looked down. One of his hands was tucked under his magua jacket like he was hiding something in there.
Receiving no response to his smile, Ho Ji-Ch’ing instantly regained his impa.s.sive demeanor.
Never to miss an opportunity to show off his Chinese, Arimitsu’s mouth was already gushing a stream of words before the dishes were fully served. He fixed his attention on Tulku Tsongkha. “Your Eminence, I am a traveller, I am extremely interested in Chinese culture. I have a deep understanding of it, immeasurably deep. I have heard that you too are very knowledgeable, which is good. We can share a discourse.”
Tulku Tsongkha’s was engrossed in filling him mouth with food and grease. He managed to momentarily extricate his tongue and answered, “Have at it!”
Arimitsu took a sip of beer. Just as his teeth came into contact with air, the sound of a chirping cricket filled the room.
His back turned to the other guests, Prince Altan pulled out a jade cricket jar that was engraved with an intricate depiction of the Eight Immortals crossing the sea. A pair of quivering antennae, which must have belonged to the noise’s culprit, peeked out through the air holes.
“Shhhh—shhhh—”, Altan puckered his lips and blew air at the antennae. Tulku Tsongkha rose from his seat and made his way in front of Altan, where he bent down and praised in a fluent Peking drawl: “Nice cricket jar!”
Altan looked up and smiled at him. “The jar’s noth-nothing. I have a Re-re-red-Sand Green in-in here!”
“I’ve got a Golden Back back home,” the tulku said. ”Want to see them fight?”
“All-All right! P-p-pick a t-time!”
His love for crickets was such that the tulku wasn’t bothered by the prince’s stuttering, and the two of them remained there—one seated and one squatting—and launched into an impa.s.sioned discussion. Arimitsu regarded the scene with both shock and embarra.s.sment and turned to give Ho Ji-Ch’ing an apologetic smile, but discovered that the man was craning his neck and watching Altan’s Red-Sand Green with interest.
He turned to his brother, but Arimitsu Tsutomu was involved in a heated discussion with Colonel Nikaido and gave him no opportunity to interject.
He was the one who arranged the event, but now everyone had found something to do and took no notice of him!
When the dinner came to an end, the prince, the tulku, and the cricket left together in the same car. Ho Ji-Ch’ing was about to ask the concierge to get him a ride when Arimitsu Tsutomu spoke up: “Mr. Ho, it is still early. May I speak to you for a moment?”
Walking in front, Ho Ji-Ch’ing looked back at him and gave a hesitant nod. “All right.”
He followed Arimitsu Tsutomu and Colonel Nikaido into a car; Arimitsu Kiyoshi had already left at some point. The car brought them to a j.a.panese restaurant near Fifth Avenue, and they stepped out and moved into a remarkably elegant and quiet was.h.i.tsu. Since Arimitsu Tsutomu did not speak, Ho Ji-Ch’ing was even less inclined initiate the conversation. After the waitress had finished serving them tea and departed, Arimitsu Tsutomu finally began steadily: “Mr. Ho, it’s a bit awkward that we’re here getting tea and dessert right after having dinner at the Astor Hotel, but I wanted to speak to you somewhere quiet. I hope you do not mind.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing noted that unlike his somewhat deranged brother, Arimitsu Tsutomu seemed fairly stable and eloquent.
“Please speak your mind, Mr. Arimitsu.”
Arimitsu threw Nikaido a glance. “I’ve heard that Mr. Ho once had a very successful career in Northwestern China.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing’s heart gave a jolt and he waved a hand hurriedly. “You flatter me. If I did, I wouldn’t have gone back to Peking alone.”
Arimitsu smiled. “Young as you are, Mr. Ho, you are very modest. It’s a rare virtue.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing shook his head. “You give me too much credit. I was just speaking the truth.”
“But then again,” Arimitsu continued. “It’d be a great shame to leave Mr. Ho’s youth and talent idle at home.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing remained silent this time. He felt like he was getting an idea of Arimitsu’s intention.
Looking down, Arimitsu picked up his teacup and brought it to his lips for a moment, then set it back down on the table without drinking from it. “I know you are a smart man, Mr. Ho. You’d never resign yourself to a life of mediocrity.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing lowered his eyes. “Actually, I do yearn for a quiet—”
Smiling, Arimitsu interrupted him with a raised hand. “Let’s stop playing word games. Mr. Ho, I’ll be frank with you. Colonel Nikaido here is a representative of the j.a.panese Imperial Kwantung Army. He greatly admires your military talent, and hopes that you will join forces with the Kwantung Army in contribution to the prosperity of East Asia and the development of Manchukuo. If you’re willing, the Kwantung Army will appoint you as the commander-in-chief of the Manchukuo Second Army. What do you—?”
Before he could finish, Ho Ji-Ch’ing gave a small laugh. “Mr. Arimitsu, if I still harboured any desire for fame and fortune, why would I go through all that trouble to come back? I could have simply stayed in Shensi. When I returned to Peking, I made up my mind to cut all my ties with the military and political world and live my life in peace. That’s all there is to it. So while I appreciate Mr. Arimitsu and Colonel Nikaido’s kindness, I have nothing to offer.”
Nikaido didn’t seem to know much Chinese and gave Arimitsu a blank look. Arimitsu’s expression did not waver as he continued to smile. “There’s no hurry, please take some time to consider it.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing also smiled. “I hope Mr. Arimitsu and Colonel Nikaido can understand my perspective.”
“I absolutely do. But please give it more thought. Your father, Marshal Ho, had given me a lot of help, and I am very grateful for it. I hope we can continue this friendship, for the benefit of common prosperity! Ha-ha! Also, the Second Army is stationed in Jehol. Your father once told me that Jehol was his land of fortune; now if Mr. Ho returns to Jehol, it’ll be like… How does that saying go? I’m sorry, I can’t remember the proverb at the moment, but you understand what I mean.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing shook his head and said nothing more. He drank his tea with a forced smile.
Arimitsu cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I heard from my brother that there’s been an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt on Mr. Ho back in Peking, which is very troubling. If Mr. Ho so desires, the Kwantung Army can provide the necessary protection.”
At this, Ho Ji-Ch’ing couldn’t help but shoot Arimitsu a thoughtful glance. “Well…”
Arimitsu began to laugh. “Mr. Ho, please try the desserts here. They’re very good!”
I wish I could do something about the whole speaking to each other in third person thing, but I’ve gone along with it in the past so… consider it local colour.
[1] “Living Buddha”