Chapter 11
Rongxiang returned home in the early hours of the morning.
In Hideo Nakajima's cold and damp mansion, he was forced to listen to hours of persuasion and incitement. During this time, he drank two pots of hot tea and went to the restroom several times. Finally, Nakajima revealed his true colors.
“Lord Rong!” he said in a slightly hoarse voice, “You must make a decision! You must choose your path: whether to cooperate with the Great Japanese Empire to build a prosperous new Manchuria, or to cooperate with the Chinese warlords who overthrew your dynasty and drove the Manchu emperor out of the palace. I think, as wise as you are, you will make the right choice!”
Rongxiang stared coldly at Nakajima Hideo, feeling as if all the blood in his body had frozen and stopped flowing. At the same time, his head seemed to grow heavier and heavier, while his body felt light and somewhat unresponsive.
“Um…” He bit his numb lip, trying to regain his ability to speak: “Is Mr. Nakajima interrogating me?”
Hideo Nakajima sat up straight: "I wouldn't dare. Please don't misunderstand, Rong-jun."
“Oh, since that’s not the case, why is Mr. Nakajima so eager to get an answer from me?” Rongxiang picked up his teacup and brought it to his lips. “Mr. Nakajima is an old acquaintance, so I won’t hide anything from you. I am a Manchu, and I will certainly be loyal to the Emperor. But you are Japanese, and cooperating with you will be condemned as treason. Mr. Nakajima, as a Sinophile, surely knows this, doesn’t he?”
Hideo Nakajima paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "Mr. Rong, I think this is what you've been worried about all along, isn't it?"
Rongxiang put down his cup: "Mr. Nakajima loves to speculate about what others are thinking. You are the truly clever one. However, you are not me, so you cannot force me to make a decision unless you put a gun to my head."
Hideo Nakajima maintained his smile: "Ryo-kun is joking."
Rongxiang laughed as well: "Yes, you're joking. Mr. Nakajima, please don't laugh at me. I'm just a warrior, not as learned as you are, and your words don't make so much sense. A warrior only has the courage of a warrior, with few thoughts and few concerns. If I do anything unexpected, please forgive me, Mr. Nakajima."
Nakajima raised his hand and placed the teacup in front of him: "Rong-kun, you are too modest. You are not a warrior, but a scholar-general."
"I dare not accept such praise!" Rongxiang leaned back on the sofa, his eyes gradually becoming unfocused. He was really at his limit, but he absolutely refused to show any weakness in front of Nakajima.
He was suffering, but from Nakajima Hideo's perspective, he only saw Nakajima's half-closed phoenix eyes and his fair complexion with a hint of pink, making him look like a beautiful painting. So, he became even more unhurried.
Lin Fengqing descended the stage amidst the adulation of the crowd. Backstage, she first took a sip of tea from a servant's cup before gracefully sitting down to change and remove her makeup. Just as she finished combing her hair, she heard someone approach and ask with a laugh, "Oh, Fengqing, you're all dressed up so quickly today! Master Rong's car hasn't arrived yet!"
It was Xiao Yufang who spoke. The two were both leading actresses in Fengtian, and they would always exchange sarcastic remarks whenever they met. Hearing this, Lin Fengqing wasn't angry at all. Instead, she deliberately smiled and said, "Sigh... He's sick. I told him today that he wouldn't come to the show or pick me up. But he wouldn't listen. In the end, I finally managed to persuade him. It's good that I have a day of peace and quiet. These days, I've been eating or shopping at department stores all the time. I'm so tired that I have no energy left."
With a few words, Lin Fengqing dismissed Xiao Yufang. She smiled charmingly at herself in the mirror, surprised by her own luck in meeting such a kind man as Rong Xiang. However, Rong Xiang hadn't visited the mansion for two days; she'd heard he had a high fever and was currently resting in bed. Thinking of this, she couldn't help but resent him. She'd told him earlier to have a doctor examine him properly, but he hadn't taken it seriously. That person… Lin Fengqing squinted, gazing out the window at the dim, golden light of the setting sun… That person was just like that—gentle, but with a smile that made his eyes crinkle, a bit like a peach blossom! He didn't say many mushy things, which was good; it saved her the trouble of flattering and agreeing.
He pondered for a moment, realizing that life, like a play, was always like the lives of actors. He only hoped that his performance would be a joyous one, without any unexpected complications. Speaking of illness, he was quite worried; who could have a fever every night? He feared it might damage their health if it continued. However, given his status, it wasn't appropriate to visit him at his residence while he was ill; it was truly a cause for great anxiety.
Rongxiang sat up against the headboard, wrapped in a blanket. He had caught a fever and chills, which eventually developed into pneumonia. After more than a month of rest and the use of imported medicine flown in from the United States, his health quickly improved. However, he remained listless and never truly recovered.
Having been bedridden for a long time, he looked somewhat dazed. His hair was freshly shaved; the barber hadn't done a good job this time, cutting off a lot of his hair at once, leaving only short hair standing on end—a country boy's hairstyle. This angered him, and he immediately gave the barber a thorough dressing-down.
Yi Zhongming sat on the edge of the bed, quietly peeling an apple. He was getting older and older, and the Kwantung Army was already causing him a lot of headaches. His young lover was also seriously ill. He was so busy that he couldn't spare a moment for anything else.
The apple peel was a long strip, hanging down in a spiral. Yi Zhongming handed the peeled apple to Rong Xiang, then wiped his hands with a handkerchief: "How are you feeling today?"
"Much better." Rongxiang listlessly took a small bite of his apple. "How's Zhongdao? I heard something happened at Dongdaying."
Yi Zhongming stared at a nail hole in the floor: "A small warehouse exploded, it's not a big deal."
"Did the Japanese do it?"
"They want to teach us a lesson."
"Then what should we do?"
Just as Yi Zhongming was about to answer, he suddenly heard a commotion at the door. Actually, he had vaguely heard people shouting earlier, but he hadn't paid much attention. This time, listening carefully, he couldn't help but walk quickly to the window and look down.
Rong Xiang waved his hand at him expressionlessly: "They are students—they came once last week, but we couldn't take action against them, so we had to send the patrol officers to chase them away. It caused a lot of discussion in the education sector, and they scolded me again."
Yi Zhongming stared intently at the students gathering and marching downstairs. They were all carrying banners with large black characters denouncing Rong Xiang. Everyone knew that he was now colluding with the Japanese and was the number one traitor in Fengtian.
“The taller the tree, the more the wind blows. Now these students are all watching me. Actually, Feng Dingkun’s actions were even more blatant, but no one paid any attention to him.” As he said this, Rong Xiang suddenly felt a sense of satisfaction amidst his bitterness. This satisfaction allowed him to temporarily forget his illness and cheer up: “If the patrol officers don’t work in a while, I’ll have Xiao Meng take some people out. After all, they’re still kids. If we scare them a couple of times, they shouldn’t dare to cause any more trouble.”
Yi Zhongming walked back and sat down: "Those people from Xiao Meng's group don't know how to scare people; they'll really fight. If someone gets killed, it'll be troublesome." He reached out and touched Rong Xiang's short hair, his heart filled with tenderness. In fact, he had always felt a lot of tenderness towards Rong Xiang, but that tenderness had been stored up for so long that it had almost turned bittersweet.
Rongxiang closed his eyes and let him stroke him. The two were silent for a moment, only the shouts and curses coming from downstairs could be heard.
After a while, chaos suddenly broke out outside. Rongxiang opened his eyes and smiled: "It must be Xiao Meng who took people out."
Yi Zhongming stood up: "Nonsense."
Rongxiang pulled the blanket closer to his chest and closed his eyes again: "Who cares? Anyway, I'm caught in the middle now."
Yi Zhongming stood there for a while, then bent down and kissed Rongxiang's forehead before turning and walking towards the door: "I'll call Xiao Meng back. It's better to let the patrol officers handle this kind of thing."
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