Scarring Jasmine-Chapter Thirty Six Dignity

11/14/2024 Thursday 31-51F Cloudy

Zhao walked Pox-Faced A San to his car. After A San sat in the back seat, Zhao said: “Elder brother, I hope you enjoyed today’s dinner. Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow if you have time, I would like to pay a visit to you; then we can sit down and talk about our potential partnership or business opportunities.” 

Instead of answering Zhao, A San searched all his pockets for something. Finally, he seemed to find it and pulled it out—It was a dirty crumpled handkerchief. He used it to wipe his greasy forehead, then spoke: “Younger brother, take it easy; don’t be in such a hurry. We ought to have some fun together first. The rest of this week I won’t be available but call me next Monday before noon.” 

Then he lowered his voice, “I would like to make a deal with you. As you know, the arms business is quite a fat piece; everyone wants to get a share of it, but most will fail. Why? They don’t have what I have: I have reliable contacts which allows me to buy guns directly from Hong Kong and Macau; and I have quite a few loyal buyers who pay me upfront. It is the sort of business that makes you sleep on money; simply pass it from one hand to the other, then you get both your hands greasy with fat. Frankly, you and I did have some old issues, which I believe that we have solved. 

Regarding the business, I am very interested in doing it with your boss, that Tianjin warlord. Two years ago, I tried to reach out to him, but for whatever reason his men turned me down. Now he is your relationship, I am ok with that—To partner with you and share some profit is far better than getting nothing from him. However, the main issue is, we have never done business together before--why should I trust you? You ought to show me your loyalty.” 

He peeped his head out of his car and whispered in Zhao’s ear: “I am always attracted to beautiful women. I am quite fond of your wife. Let’s exchange women: I would like to sleep with your wife for one night; as your compensation, you can pick any three of my eight concubines to have fun with. After that, we will be real partners. How about that?”

A San’s last words raged Zhao; he clenched his fists and had an almost irresistible impulse to smash A San’s head; however, he also was a man of great self-control. “You must be kidding. I will regard it a joke in bad taste!”

A San’s pineapple head drew further, “I don’t appreciate your tone, brother. I am very serious about this. Look, women are just tools; only after we used the same ones, the loyalty between us could be enhanced. Frankly, I shared women often with my contacts and buyers; that is why we have good relationships. You are a smart man; I am sure we will be great partners. Let’s share our women once, then we can start to share money.”

“I am afraid it isn’t a decision that I can make now.” To cover the annoyance, Zhao spoke. 

“Well, I expect your answer next Monday when you call me. The day after that I plan to go to Guangzhou and Hong Kong for two months.”

He rolled up the window; the car drove away.

Zhao went into his room and lay on the bed. He felt that he was a loser: His wife hated him; he lost his child; the only thing that could make him proud were his achievements in business; Now, for business’ sake, he had to let a pig insult him. Even if women were tools, how could he use the same tool which Pox-Faced A San had used? Thinking of A San’s face, he felt disgusted. There must be poison hidden in those pockmarks—dirty, nasty, and low. He would rather shoot Jasmine dead than let her sleep with that boar!

There was no doubt that Jasmine had recognized A San, from his name, and his signature face. But even if A San wasn’t the one who extorted her family, or if A San could have better looks, it was still absurd for a man to agree to share his wife with someone else. So, what should he do? Give up on A San and go back to Guangzhou and Zhanjiang trying to hunt for better suppliers? Then stay there, inspect the weapons one by one until he was sure that they were all good, then at last watch the goods get loaded and shipped? The more critical questions were: Could he find suppliers who had “the exact same shit” requested by that warlord? How about the prices and costs? And how long would it take him to ship his next batch to Tianjin? Would his buyer have the patience to wait for him? 

Yes, in the worst case scenario that he tried the arms business but still failed, he could just quit temporarily or permanently and go back to opium to build his fortune in a slower way. However, could he forget about his big dream? Would he be content with being no more than an anonymous opium smuggler all his life? That was terrible! It was like slitting his soul inch by inch! 

What A San said and had been proven: A San did have not only stable faithful supply sources, but also great sales channels. Getting paid upfront! What a great deal! Who could do that?! Then he could pay his suppliers upfront and be their supreme customer in price and timing! These were A San’s moats, which would take a new man at least ten years to forge, and that new man also needed luck. But who knew what would happen ten years later? Now he was in good shape; if he couldn’t succeed now, perhaps he never would! 

Crisis also meant opportunity. If, if he could take this chance, with the Tianjin warlord and Black Beard’s support, he believed that in a few years he could take over A San’s business, and expand it; then he would be capable of negotiating with both buyers or suppliers and be a policy maker rather than a follower. if he dared think about something big, perhaps he could establish his own arms factories, linking up supply, shipment, and sales; then once the timing was ripe, he would look for chances to step into politics, and rise from there. The government was the final big boss--not the entrepreneurs, not the warlords, not the mafias.

This thought excited him. So, to be an anonymous opium smuggler who wouldn’t sacrifice the woman he loved, vs, the potential to be a successful influential man through a compromise, which option should he choose?

There was another point: That woman didn’t love him at all; she hated him! She didn’t want to have his children; she disdained him; she tortured him by ignoring him. She loved another man who was more handsome, who had a significant upbringing, who could read and write and be considered upper class; while he, he was just a peasant kid; his parents were beaten to death by the servants of a landlord’s concubine; he couldn’t read and write and didn’t know how to make a woman happy. To her, cleaning her commode wasn’t enough; spending all the money he had to build her a big house wasn’t enough; devoting his heart and soul exclusively to her wasn’t enough! She trashed his love! They were two sorts of people from two different worlds, like bird and fish. Unfortunately, he fell in love with her first; in her world, he was forever inferior.

Since all his efforts for her were in vain, so what was the point of him sacrificing his future for someone who would never appreciate him? And, it could be a punishment for her, for her who shirked her wife’s duty; for her who loved someone else rather than her husband; for her who couldn’t position herself properly and failed to realize that he was her owner of both her body and soul! 

That’s it!

“Jasmine,” early next morning, he entered Jasmine’s room, “why did you throw the liquor into my face last night?” 

“You know the reason.” Jasmine was combing her hair. 

“Yes, he is Pox-Faced A San; he will be my business partner and we will have a great future together.” 

Jasmine stared at him, “Once before you promised that you would avenge him for my family.” 

“Forget about that Jasmine; things have changed. We must move on for business’s sake!” 

“Your business is more important than morality; your business can make you call your enemy friend. If that’s your decision, then why did you tell me this?”

“Because I need your favor.” Zhao breathed out, “He admires you, and wants you to serve him for one night.”

The comb dropped from Jasmine’s hand to the floor. Her face became paper white. She was visibly shocked, and for quite a long time, she couldn’t speak.

“I know it is hard, Jasmine, it is also painful to me. But please try to understand that this is for our future. I can’t tell you the details now, but I do have a big plan. To be great men, sometimes we must bear greater shames. Give me a few more years, I will prove that all your sacrifices are worthwhile. Just one night-- I promise I will never change my heart for you; I will love you even more than ever. I never really felt happy when I was with other women; I did it merely to agitate you, to get your attention. You are the only one that I loved and will love. You are the meaning of my life!”

“Promises, forgivenesses, and excuses…” Jasmine murmured, and walked to her daybed. “Even though since long ago I have lost all my expectations for you, once again, you successfully shocked me.” Her face looked deadly disappointed.

“Don’t say something like that Jasmine, your words are like knives slitting my heart! Will you love me and have my children? If you say yes, I will drop everything and go to Peach Blossom Dock with you; I can build the house smaller, where we will never separate from each other. When we were on the mountain, you told me that you wanted a simple life. Now I have enough money once I sell all my business; if you still want it, I will do it for you this time.”

“It has been three years since you first mentioned your Peach Blossom Dock house to me. Now it is still not built. I no longer want it. I won’t love you; I won’t have your children; I won’t go sleep with Pox-Faced A San! He is the murderer of my father!”

“Jasmine, you must choose one: Either go with me for our simple happiness or go with A San for my business. I can’t lose both.” 

“I choose neither!”

Zhao grabbed Jasmine’s wrist, his hand was as strong as a pincer, “Then I will choose it for you—Go sleep with A San! At least in that case, I still have my business.”

“I won’t go! I am not a whore!”

“You must go! It isn’t your choice! Next Monday I believe he will come to pick you up in person. Remember, you are not a virgin; you betrayed me and slept with another man for six months! So what’s the big deal of one more night?”

No more struggle nor word from Jasmine; she turned her head away and closed her eyes. 

At that moment, for Jasmine, there was no spiritual repose; there was no escape. Even if she chose to hide, to acquiesce, to sit in the mud, to mentally paralyze herself, she still sank deeper and deeper, get dirtier and dirtier; and there was no end for her. “Am I really under that curse?” She thought of First Madam’s words: “You are too beautiful so you are always men’s target, and your face makes men rarely see your inside quality--That’s too unfortunate. Beauty is your burden perhaps you would be happier if you weren’t quite so gorgeous.”

Here it was: Beauty was a risky gift from God. She always felt that she was pushed around by an invisible hand, which was her fate; and behind that hand, there was another hand, it was men; what motivated men was, her beauty. Thus, the beauty drove men, men drove her fate, her fate drove her!

Suddenly something struck her mind like a lightning flash. Her mother said before that a fortuneteller predicted that she would bring her family misfortune in her early twenties, which she did—She indirectly caused her father’s death, her brother’s disability, and the downfall of the family. All these losses couldn’t be compensated by Qian’s twenty thousand silver coins, or any sum!

To avoid that, according to the fortuneteller, she should either not to cut her fingernails, or cut up her face! She shivered—Was her fate all written? She coincidentally didn’t refuse Zhao’s request for her fingernail, which later triggered all the miseries. But why did the fortuneteller mention about cutting up her face? Jasmine pursued the answer in her brain. Oh yes, because cutting up her face meant to dull her beauty, to make her “not quite so gorgeous”, to free her from her  beauty-driven imprisonment. Only when her appearance wouldn’t drive men, men wouldn’t drive her fate, she could turn the tables. Indeed, it sounded like an extreme, desperate solution, but what else could she do to defend herself? To end this predatory game? At least it would be her own decision, and she could execute it alone. “Pretty or not, it is the least of my concern. I would rather be an ugly yet honorable woman than being pretty but dishonored.” 

To sink, or to swim; to acquiesce, or to rebel; to be challenged, or to challenge; to be destroyed, or destroy and rebuild. Before her last bit of dignity was taken away, before she was entirely ruined either mentally or physically or both, she must take action to save herself. She figured: There were a few days to go before next Monday. During this period, the first thing she needed to do was quit opium, which could only drown her slowly and enslave her; then when the final time came, she would be ready for it.

That morning, she dumped all her dark opium into the blazing kitchen range.