Waiting for the results was like waiting for the dice to turn up in your favor — throwing them down harder doesn’t do any good. Fate decides everything. And so Jiang Lili decided to go to church to pray. The words she uttered to God were like a melodramatic essay worthy of publication. At first Wang Qiyao kept her impatience well hidden, but after Jiang Lili started bragging about her to the whole world, what patience she had left began to wear thin. Gradually, impatience became annoyance and Wang Qiyao took to ignoring Jiang Lili. Lili, however, interpreted this coldness as a sign that she hadn’t done enough and began to work even harder. This left Wang Qiyao at a complete loss. She knew that Jiang Lili was good to her, but she felt constrained, as if her personal freedom was being violated. The natural reaction was to stand up and resist. Being extra nice to someone can be a form of manipulation — kindness is an exercise of power in its own right. Meanwhile, though nothing had been formally declared, the entire city was already filling up with gossip; virtually everyone in Shanghai knew. Wang Qiyao only wished that there was a place where she could hide, where she didn’t have to see another soul. She wished she could be deaf so she wouldn’t have to be bothered by all those annoying questions. It was a good thing that by the time of the pageant they had both already graduated and didn’t have to worry about school anymore. Wang Qiyao couldn’t even imagine how she would have dealt with the stares if she had still been in school. Her relatives were already a handful. And so she had no choice but to spend most of her time at Jiang Lili’s house; no matter how much of an uproar Lili made, there was only one of her — outside there were hundreds. Later, Wang Qiyao decided to move in with the Jiang family.
Actually, Lili had been wanting Wang Qiyao to move in with her for some time, but till now Wang Qiyao had always declined. When she finally agreed, Jiang Lili was so ecstatic that she made sure the room was all fixed up a full three days before Wang Qiyao was even scheduled to move in. Seeing how happy her daughter was, Lili’s mother was also full of energy, ordering the maid to do this and that to get the house ready for their honored guest. The only people living with Lili were her mother and a brother. Her father had moved his factory to the interior during the war and afterward never relocated back to Shanghai. He had, in fact, taken a second wife out there and rarely came home, not even for Chinese New Year. He only returned to Shanghai twice a year for his children’s birthdays — that was his way of showing fatherly love.
Jiang Lili’s little brother was attending middle school, but he often played truant and did nothing but sit home and listen to the radio from morning till night, coming out of his room only for meals. Everyone in the family was a bit odd; even the maid had strange habits. Things were backwards in this family; the children did not have an ounce of respect for their mother, while she constantly fawned upon them. They counted every penny when it came to daily necessities, yet could throw away a hundred dollars at the drop of a hat. The mistress of the house seemed to have tired of being in charge and let the maid boss them around. After moving in, Wang Qiyao felt almost duty-bound to share the responsibilities of running the household — even though her status was half that of a retainer. She became the one to decide what they should have for dinner the following day; the one to ask when anyone in the house was looking for anything; and when the maid went through the daily accounts, it was always her job to make sure there were no mistakes. After Wang Qiyao moved in, the maid suddenly had someone keeping her in check. Her late night mahjong games in the servants’ quarters were at an end, she was no longer allowed to keep guests for dinner, and she had to ask for permission before going out and return in a timely fashion. She was also required to comb her hair and dress more neatly — no longer would she be allowed to go clanking and clacking around all day in those annoying wooden sandals. And so, as she overhauled the household, Wang Qiyao slowly took away the maid’s power, bit by bit, until she was the sole mistress of the house. By moving into Jiang Lili’s house, she had evened things up with Lili. She had improved the household, thus repaying Jiang Lili for being so good to her, but she had also wrested back some control over her own life. That way, the slate was wiped clean and they could be on an equal footing. It was during this time that Wang Qiyao received the news that she had qualified for the preliminary pageant.
The pageant was swamped. It was as if all the gorgeous women in Shanghai had assembled in the room. Reporters from virtually every newspaper in the city scurried around, fighting to get their stories out first, while they feasted their eyes on the beauties that surrounded them. Their gazes were laced with desire, as were their articles. The entrance to the hotel where the pageant was being held was crowded with pedicabs and automobiles, along with a continuous flow of people coming and going. The girls came accompanied by their maidservants, sisters, or other family members, tailors, and hairdressers in tow. Shanghai girls were different from other girls. Like the men in their families, they too wanted to turn heads and make something of themselves. Moreover, they didn’t just talk about it, they took action. In some ways, they were even more aggressive and tenacious than their fathers and brothers, unafraid of losing or getting hurt. At least half of the splendor of Shanghai was built on their desire for fame and wealth; if not for this desire, more than half the stores in the city would have long gone under.
Shanghai’s splendor is actually a kind of feminine grace; the scent carried by the wind is a woman’s perfume, and there are always more women’s clothes displayed in the store windows than men’s. The shadows of the French parasol trees seem to carry a womanly aura, as do the oleanders and lilacs in the courtyards — the most feminine of flowers. The humid breeze during the rainy season is a woman’s little temper tantrum, the murmuring sound of Shanghainese is custom-made for women’s most intimate gossip. The city is like one big goddess, wearing clothes plumed with rainbows, scattering silver and gold across the sky. The colored clouds are the sleeves of her gown.
On that day, more important than the rest, on that special festival celebrating pretty girls, the sun rose especially for them, shining down on them as they left their homes across the city. Every last rose or carnation in the shops was bought up by well-wishers to congratulate the girls. Their bodies were wrapped in the most fashionable clothes, their faces displayed the highest artistry of makeup, and the most stylish hairdos adorned their heads. It was a massive fashion show and they were all models, each and every one a rare beauty — the cream of the crop. Looked at separately, each seemed destined to take the crown; put side by side, each appeared prettier than the last; once the competition began, their collective beauty marshaled up a force capable of toppling mountains and overturning the sea. They were the pith and marrow of this city — its spirit. Normally their beauty was spread evenly throughout the city, diffused in the air; but on the day of the pageant their essence was concentrated into what was the most gorgeous portrait Shanghai had ever painted of itself.