Free Shanghai Girl by Vivian Yang Page A

political science."
    Gordon nods, studying me.
    I try to amend what I said. "I major in political science, all right. But it's not all those didactic Marxist theories. Nowadays, we also study the structure and workings of so-called 'western democracy'."
    "So, tell me, Sha-fei, what are the pros and cons of China's current structure of government versus that of 'so-called western democracy'?" he challenges.
    I look straight into his eyes and ask, "Do you want the official version or my personal opinion?"
    "I thought you're not supposed to have a personal opinion."
    "Not supposed to, but I have one. Perhaps it would be wise of me not to tell you, though."
    Gordon agrees, "You'd better not. I already think you're a wise and capable young lady."
    A sudden shyness comes over me at his compliment. "You overpraise me, Uncle Gordon," I say, blushing, and lowering my head.
    "Let me give you a piece of advice, Sha-fei. You should take recognition in stride and not be overly modest. Acknowledge the compliment by simply saying 'Thank you' with pride. You can argue that modesty is traditionally considered a virtue in Chinese culture. But in order to survive and succeed in today's world, you must learn to be assertive without being aggressive. Fight for what you’re entitled to. Understand?"
    "Yes, I do. Thank you, Uncle Gordon." I decide to put this into practice as soon as possible.
    Touching my nose with his index finger, Gordon says, "You naughty little thing."
    I reply defensively, "No, I was thanking you for your advice."
    "Is that right? I'm sure that they didn't teach you to talk like this in school," Gordon says with a laugh.
    "That's right. They didn't teach me any of this at Pujiang University here in Shanghai. It's just me."
    "Good for you."
    "Thank you," I answer brightly, tilting my head forward. "I forgot to tell you that I go to the same school where Father taught."
    Gordon squints, as if trying to picture Tao Hong the Professor. "Is that right? Was he a good professor?"
    "I never took his classes. He died before I got into the school. He had been a popular teacher before imprisonment, but after his release, he didn't live long enough to teach much."
    Gordon looks at his spoonful of blood soup in his hand and pours it back to the bowl. "It's sad Tao will never know about our meeting today."
    "Yes. Father died without hope of any sort."
    "How did your family take it?"
    "Mother was relieved Father was finally dead. She tried to negotiate with the school to get compensation for our family, but the school gave nothing. I knew, even then, that the person who cared about me the most had gone. I had no siblings – you know about China's one child policy, right? I knew I was going to have to fend for myself for the rest of my life." I pause to swallow something, tears or saliva I'm not sure. Gordon is listening intently without a word. "What I didn't know was that Mother had struck a deal with an important school official so she could marry my stepfather and live her good life that way."
    "Oh, I didn't know...," Gordon decides not to finish his sentence.
    "That school official used to be my stepfather's subordinate. Thinking Mother was good-looking, he introduced her to Stepfather, as a favor to his old commander. Mother stayed with me for another year after she was legally married, then she went to his home in Nanjing, shortly after I began college. She didn't postpone moving away because of me, though. The government's transfer of official residency permit took that long, even at Stepfather's level."
    Gordon exhales audibly. "I guess your mother made the best of her circumstances. What does your stepfather do?"
    "He is a ranking cadre. Mother is finally living her good life, the life she didn't have with Father," I say bitterly.
    "Are you on good terms with your stepfather?"
    I lower my head and talk into my lap, "I suppose I am. It's a shame that I'm still dependent on him financially. I want to be strong and independent. But