Read Online Shanghai Redemption by Qiu Xiaolong - Free Book Online

life?”
    â€œCome on. Don’t play dumb with me.” The driver chuckled with great gusto. “They will do anything for you, from the front, to the back—”
    â€œOh that—”
    â€œThe club is expensive for a variety of reasons. Not just because of the service in the front or back. Some of the girls there are said to be highly qualified: college educated, fluent in English or French, able to cry out in whatever language you fancy when they come.”
    The taxi driver brought his monologue to a reluctant stop at the sight of a tall building topped with an elaborate neon sign that read, “The Heavenly World,” which was just beginning to flash nocturnal conspiracies against the corner of the sky.
    Chen got out and noted one thing immediately: the hustle and bustle of the valet parking. The attendants in red uniforms seemed to know their customers well, nodding and greeting each one by name. All the cars that pulled up were luxury models, and Chen alone arrived in a taxi.
    Wuting was waiting near the front entrance, with another middle-aged man dressed in a black suit and a red bow. He was beaming at Chen.
    The red-bowed man reached out his hand. “Director Chen, I’m Rong Pan, your loyal fan. It’s a great honor for us to have you here.”
    â€œThank you for your generous support of literature, Rong. Wuting told me all about it.”
    â€œWuting may not have told you one thing, Director Chen. I began reading your translations as early as the mid-eighties. Oh, those were truly the good, golden years for literature.”
    Rong was apparently aware of Chen’s new position, though that didn’t seem to have damped his enthusiasm.
    â€œLet’s move inside,” Wuting said with a smile.
    The book launch party was being held in a large hall with a banner stretched across overhead, bearing the name and portrait of T. S. Eliot. Chen wondered about the original function of the room, noting a colored poster near a closed door to the left.
    In the middle of the hall stood rows of leather chairs. In front of the first row, there were some marble coffee tables, and further up, a cordoned-off area with a dais in the middle. To the right of the dais was a long table with piles of books stacked on it.
    It turned out that Rong did know something about Eliot. Not only were copies of the new volume displayed around the room, but there were also several girls dressed up like cats scampering around, just like in the musical.
    The party started off with a fairly long introductory speech from Rong, one full of Eliotic lines. He did bring up one interesting detail about how the English poet was the catalyst for a crucial change in Rong’s life.
    â€œIn those years, I would bring a copy of Director Chen’s translation of Eliot to bed with me every night. I dreamed of becoming a poet myself, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that, as a young college graduate, I had neither the time nor the money for poetry. One night, I happened to reread a paragraph in Director Chen’s preface. It talked about Eliot’s early career as a banker. Eliot became a banker because there is no money in poetry, but making enough money as a banker made it possible for him to write. This hit me like a bolt of lightening across a black sky. If Eliot could do that, then so could I. I took a job in a state bank and worked my way up, until eventually I left to start a private bank of my own. That part is a boring business story, which I don’t need to tell here. But it all came about because of T. S. Eliot. And because of Director Chen too.”
    Applause broke out across the room. People put down their drinks and their cigarettes so they could clap.
    â€œTime flies. This all happened so many years ago,” Rong said. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t make my way back to poetry, but through Director Chen’s masterful translation, I might be able to relive my old