Chapter 1 Treasures in Troubled Times

1948

Peiping, China

Dusk fell upon Di An Men Street. All about, strewn flyers urged residents to “Destroy the Communist bandits and suppress the rebellion.” Because of the blackout, the street lamps stood dark like sullen sentinels. Shop lights were covered with thick black paper or cloth. Pasted to every window in sight were crossed strips of paper to limit damage in case the city was bombed. The imposing Drum Tower, unmanned ever since the deposed Emperor Puyi had left the Forbidden City, loomed silent at the far end of the street.

Distant gunfire punctuated the steady whistle of the frigid northwest wind. The Communists were advancing and the Nationalists retreating everywhere. The rickety trolley cars with their grating bells made the only other sounds.

Many stores on Di An Men Street had already closed. A desperate few, still hoping to lure one or two more customers, stayed open. Signboards promised “Sacrifice Prices,” “Closing Sale,” or other fortunate opportunities for buyers, but the streets were empty. Even the vagrants and beggars who frequented the arcade of the Di An Men Gate had disappeared. The city was under attack, in the midst of a severe winter, and would soon be pitch dark. New Year’s Eve 1948 in Peiping had no air of festivity to it at all.

An antiquities dealer on the west side of the street still had his lights on. It was a small storefront, with a magnificent sign above the door for which my father had provided the calligraphy. Against a black background, three raised characters painted gold—Pin Gu Zhai—stood out and proclaimed Select Antiquities Studio. My father and I entered the dimly lit establishment and joined a scholarly looking group of my father’s friends already assembled around an elm wood table. I often accompanied my father to this shop, but tonight was special. After greetings were exchanged, the shop owner got right down to business.

“You would be acquiring quite a treasure, a national treasure really, Professor Chen. But I fear at quite a price. The owner’s chamberlain said if they took it abroad, they would make an absolute fortune from it. They know full well its value,” the bony, middle-aged man said.

“Have you had the experts verify it, Mr. Qi?” My father was considering a staggering investment and needed everything to be in order.

“Absolutely. Quite a few authorities, in fact, including your friends from the Imperial Museum.”

“It is unquestionably authentic,” said Chang Weijun, the Imperial Museum’s senior researcher and my father’s friend since college. “Its owner is named Jin, a descendant of a close relative of the Aisin Gioro imperial clan of the Qing Dynasty. Only such a family would be able to acquire such a treasure. Mr. Qi told him that you have rebuilt the Prince’s residence. That’s why he agreed to consider you as a buyer.”

“You know the adage as well as I do. ‘Invest in times of peace and hoard in times of trouble.’ Thirty gold bars is a lot of money, especially given the situation we’re in now,” my father replied. He liked being able to propose the apt aphorism for any situation.

Mr. Chang’s head bobbed in agreement. “How true. Thirty gold bars. Fifteen kilograms of gold.” After a pause, he added, “For which you could buy two-and-a-half million kilograms of rice. Does it make any sense to spend so much money in such turbulent times? Lots of people with rare items in their pockets are begging for food today.”

Mr. Qi sighed and said, “But then there’s the question of having a national treasure go abroad, where we may lose touch with it.”

“Mr. Liu.” Mr. Qi turned and spoke to the short, stout man beside him. “What do you think?”

Liu Bowen, one of China’s most renowned antiques brokers, adjusted his glasses, wheezed, and cleared his throat. “I think Professor Chen should meet Mr. Jin and see this treasure with his own eyes before we reach a decision.”

“Exactly, Mr. Liu,” my father nodded.

“The sooner the better,” Mr. Qi said at once. “Mr. Jin needs a prompt reply. The family plans to flee south within the next few days.”

“Mr. Qi, please pay another visit to Mr. Jin. See whether we can call upon him this evening. Mr. Liu and Mr. Chang, if you don’t have other plans, please join me at my home for a simple meal. We can wait there for Mr. Qi’s message.”

“Let’s go, Mr. Liu,” Mr. Chang said as he helped his portly companion up and took his arm. Liu was not yet 50, but he had the look and bearing of someone far older. He was not in good health and rarely left home. When he did, he was impeccably and elegantly dressed. Tonight he looked especially well-attired.

Chang helped his friend out of the shop and into my father’s black Dodge sedan. After a short drive, the car pulled up to the wall outside No. 3, Cihui Palace Lane. We walked through the gate, along the gray brick corridor, and up the steps through the deeply carved inner gate. We then crossed the porch, went through a third gate, and finally arrived at the big parlor of the main courtyard.

My mother was waiting at the doorway. “How are you, dear friends? You certainly are a fine sight for these sore eyes. We should see each other more often.”

“You might see us more frequently if it weren’t such a hard journey to get here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel I’ve walked a full kilometer from the first gate to this doorway,” Mr. Liu said with a smile but breathing heavily.

“Now don’t tease me after all this time. Let me help you,” said my mother as she guided the men into the large parlor.

My parents had kept the room to the same dimensions it had been when the palace served as the Prince’s residence. It was much broader and five times longer than parlors of normal mansions. Inside were elegant eight-leaf screens, a hallmark of the Chen family, including four landscape paintings and four traditional calligraphy scrolls. All were done by noted Chinese artists and calligraphers of the time, each an intimate friend of my father.

The centerpiece of the eight screens was a picture of splendid plum blossoms in winter, so full and evocative that visitors often found themselves trying to catch a whiff of their fragrance. The panel above showed four pied magpies singing happily in the plum tree’s upper branches. It was a tour de force by Master Qi Baishi and displayed his special, luminous red ink. The four birds represented the four Chen sons, while the blossoms were a reminder that the warm lushness of the autumn fruits started with the hard winter’s flowers. My father liked to get to the heart of the matter and to be succinct. Sometimes when we asked about the picture, he would simply say, “No sweat, no sweet.”

In the middle of the parlor was a huge bed of elaborately carved rosewood that was used for seating when it wasn’t used for sleeping. It was my grandfather’s place of repose. Behind it now was a long, narrow rosewood table on which my father had placed a large photograph of my grandfather after he died in 1943.

Sometimes just passing by my grandfather’s picture put a lump in my throat and made me feel like crying. I also took joy, however, from looking into my grandfather’s kindly eyes, so accurately portrayed in the picture. It brought back fond memories for me of wonderful stories about Yanmen, my grandfather’s home, so far away from the noisy and busy city. I never tired of hearing these tales, and my grandfather had never tired of telling them.

The eastern hall contained my favorite piece in the mansion—a tall clock with a long pendulum, the gift of a French businessman. A little toy man mounted on a horse rode around the top of the clock when it rang the hour. And in this hall, sitting behind the small desk my mother had arranged for me so she could watch me doing my homework, I liked to watch my parents work at the large rosewood desk they used every day. It had drawers on both sides and a marble top with patterns resembling swirling clouds and tranquil water. My parents appeared very much in love as they shared the desk and their thoughts and took care of their business. My father said he liked to read and write while listening to the clicks of my mother’s abacus. The western hall was decorated in the modern style. Large garden pots of tall pomegranates, osmanthus, and balata brought vitality and a delightful scent to the surroundings.

The group walked into the parlor where an older and a younger man were conversing. My mother made introductions. “Mr. Liu, Mr. Chang, this is Mr. Yu, my husband’s closest colleague and the wonder worker who oversees our finances. And this handsome young man is Zhijie, Pinzhi’s nephew from his hometown in Henan.”

“When did you get here, Zhijie? I haven’t seen you for ages.” My father smiled affectionately.

“Hello, Uncle. I just arrived. It’s been a rough trip. The Reds are everywhere. They control the Northeastern provinces and almost all the north. Jisheng says Peiping will be completely overrun within the month. I couldn’t have made it here without his help.”

“Where is Jisheng?” My father asked after my eldest brother.

“He’s with General Yuan in the salon. They have something to discuss with you.”

My father turned to Mr. Yu and said, “Please show our guests to the dining room. People must be hungry after this long day. Junying, Songsheng, and I will join you shortly.”

The salon was in the western end of the main parlor. My mother knocked lightly on the door and Jisheng let us in. I smiled and nodded at my brother and quietly made my way to a corner as my parents had directed.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, General Yuan,” my father greeted the middle-aged man. Yuan had an obvious military bearing but was traveling in civilian clothes. He had known our family for years and was aide-de-camp to General Sun Lianzhong, Chief of Staff in President Chiang Kai-shek’s Office. General Sun and his wife, Yufeng, were among my parents’ closest friends.

“I pay this unannounced visit with orders to tell you specifically what is happening in Nanking. While we were waiting for you, I briefed General Chen in some detail.”

My father had a hard time accepting my brother’s rank. “Jisheng’s too young to be a general. He got promoted only because General Fu needed to expand the army.”

“You are too modest. Your son has what it takes to lead—he showed that in his service against the Japanese—and he has graduated from military school.”

Jisheng was in the 14^th graduating class of the Whampoa Military Academy that Chiang Kai-shek once headed and where Zhou Enlai had been director of the Political Department. It provided many leaders to both sides of the civil war. After graduating, Jisheng was appointed a platoon leader in the Nationalist Army to fight against the Japanese. Within three years, he was promoted to a battalion commander and critically wounded at a battle in southern Henan Province. A Japanese bullet went through his chest, but he survived.

My father sat down on the sofa next to the general and listened intently as he said, “The current situation is deteriorating daily. Chiang Kai-shek plans to submit his resignation soon. General Sun and his wife sent me a confidential telegram from Nanking, asking me to get word to you and Mrs. Chen that they are determined to leave the mainland for Taiwan.”

“Oh, my!” exclaimed my mother, still with some surprise despite the inevitability of the news.

“They urge you to decide without delay whether to stay or leave. Tickets for Taiwan are getting harder and harder to obtain. But the Presidential Chief’s Office can help,” Yuan said gravely.

Jisheng said, “The end can’t be far. We heard that General Fu has been in contact with officers of the Communist Party through his daughter, who is an underground member of the Communist Party here.”

General Yuan confirmed the rumor. “Yes, it is true. General Fu even asked the Communist Army to bomb the airport in the Temple of Heaven to prevent Chiang Kai-shek’s son from flying in. General Fu had built this temporary landing strip to accommodate his own evacuation should he need it.”

“Really?” My father was pleasantly surprised by this piece of news.

“Absolutely true. General Fu doesn’t want to be bothered by Generalissimo Chiang and his Nanking government.”

“Then a peaceful turnover of Peiping is truly possible.” My father had never given up this hope.

“Be that as it may,” Jisheng said, “we still should be wary of the Communists. They don’t keep promises and always turn against friends! I’ve given it long and serious consideration, and my family and I have decided to leave Peiping for the south.”

“How?” my mother asked.

“First to Tsingtao and then Shanghai. We’ll pick our steps.”

Jisheng’s revelation proved to be a conversation stopper. Finally, General Yuan broke the uneasy silence that had fallen upon the group. “The question is not just what is going to happen next week or next month, but what will happen down the road. Dear friends, you must think about whether you can trust the Communists with your future!”

The room fell quiet until General Yuan broke the silence again.

“If you intend to leave, General Sun is the one person who can help. Please ask Jisheng to stay in contact with me before I leave Peiping. I would spare no effort if I could be of service to you.” General Yuan rose to leave.

“How can we ever repay you for your kindness?” My mother took his hand.

“Don’t mention it, Mrs. Chen. Mrs. Luo also asked me to tell you that she’s eager to play mah-jongg with you as there aren’t many good players in Nanking.”

“She’s always such a joy to be around. Please do remember us to General Sun and Yufeng.”

“Jisheng, ask Wu to get the car ready for General Yuan,” my mother said.

“It would be more discreet to have Zhu take General Yuan back by pedicab,” my father said. “Let us see you off, General Yuan.”

“Professor Chen, Mrs. Chen, don’t bother. Let Jisheng do it for you.”

“Just to the doorway,” my father insisted.

My father and mother accompanied General Yuan to the entrance foyer. I kept back, but as my brother opened the door, I could see Old Zhu waiting by a covered pedicab, holding a flap open.

“I wish you a safe trip, General Yuan.” My father grasped Yuan’s hand.

“Take care of yourselves. I hope we may meet again soon and under happier circumstances.” Yuan inclined his head in their direction, waved his hand in a salute, turned sharply, and walked out.

My parents, Jisheng, and I made our way to the dining room in the main courtyard. People around the table were enjoying aromatic pork hotpot and drinking Huadiao yellow liquor while listening to Zhijie talk about his journey to Peiping.

“We could smell this wonderful dinner from afar.” Jisheng took his seat and right away raised a glass. “Before I dig in, though, I’d like to toast to Uncle Zhang, Uncle Liu, and Cousin Zhijie.”

“I want to toast too,” I said.

“Children should not drink alcohol,” my mother said, removing my cup.

“It’s not liquor, mum. It’s just tea.” I took my cup back.

“You are so quick, Songshen.” My mother smiled with pride.

“Where are the other children?” my father asked.

“They’re skating on the rink in the back garden,” I replied.

“This is how children should be, without a care in the world,” Mr. Chang said. “They bring a touch of joy to our New Year, which otherwise is pretty bleak.”

Mr. Liu said, “Carpe diem! Even in troubled times, we must take the time to enjoy life.”

“That’s for sure.” Zhijie stood up and topped everyone’s drink. “For now, let us toast to the moment, friends and family together.”

“Speaking of family, Zhijie, how are things at home?” my father asked.

“Very bad, Uncle. Most young men have left Yanmen and Jiyuan and headed south, leaving the elderly, women, and children to fend for themselves. Between wars and lousy harvests, people are living on dried sweet potatoes and wild potherbs.”

My father looked sad. “I want you to take some gold back to Yanmen and buy food for the families who need it.”

“Auntie has already told Mr. Yu to take care of it, to have the gold hammered into flakes and sewn inside wadded jackets so I can take it back safely.”

Jisheng said, “Zhijie will go by way of Baoding. My friends at the Military School can get him a rail ticket to Jiyuan Town. Someone from Yanmen can meet him there.”

“Mr. Yu, tell our counting room to prepare more gold flakes for Zhijie. This is literally a matter of life or death.”

“Please put your mind at rest, sir; it will be done. Excuse me, everyone,” Mr. Yu said as he walked out.

The hot pot was steaming and wonderful aromas filled the dining room, but nobody had an appetite except me. Again, conversation lapsed. The company was preoccupied and, for the moment at least, content to drown their sorrows. Zhijie took a new bottle from the sideboard and filled everyone’s glasses. The telephone broke the silence.

My mother answered, said a few words, and replaced the phone in the cradle. “That was Mr. Qi. He asked you to come promptly to Mr. Jin’s place. He’ll await you on the corner of Beichizi Avenue.”

“Zhijie, I have some important business to attend to with Mr. Liu and Mr. Chang. Your auntie and Jisheng will help you get things ready. Let’s talk more when I get back,” my father said.

“Let me go too!” I pleaded.

“You’d just be getting underfoot when there are serious matters to discuss,” said my mother.

“Oh, it’s alright. Let him see something new.” My father was strict with his children, but he always wanted us to learn more about the world, so he often took me along when he went to Select Antiquities Studio or met with his old friends. I loved listening to adult conversation. So, at my father’s words, I ran out of the room to get his coat. My father, Mr. Chang, and Mr. Liu followed.

“Pinzhi,” my mother caught up and whispered to him, “Don’t forget that you have an appointment to meet Hanchen in the garden study tonight.”

“I won’t. If I am a little late, please talk with him first.”

The Dodge left Cihui Palace Lane and crossed East Jingshan Street. It didn’t pass another car on the dark streets all the way to the west side of the Forbidden City where Mr. Qi awaited them at the appointed corner. As the car was too wide to get into the lane, Wu parked it and turned off the lights. Mr. Qi led the car’s occupants down the alley until they saw Mr. Jin standing in front of a red double door.

My mouth dropped open and my eyes grew wide. An old man in a fur cap and fur coat greeted us. He smiled warmly at me. Never in my life had I ever seen such a display of finery. By contrast, my father had the money to wear fancy clothes but was a simple man who dressed in the simplest ways. He never wore leather shoes—preferring his cotton-padded footwear—or a suit, as did most of his colleagues.

Mr. Jin admitted them into the main parlor. I thought it looked very old-fashioned and almost empty. A long straight table with a damask runner and several chairs stood in the center of the room. The old man asked everyone to take a seat. A servant poured each one a cup of fragrant jasmine tea.

“You are Mr. Chen, I presume?” Mr. Jin nodded to Mr. Liu.

“No, no. I’m Liu. My friend here is the buyer.” Mr. Liu gestured to his right.

Mr. Jin turned and apologized to my father. “Excuse my presumption.”

Mr. Qi broke in at once. “You know the old proverb, ‘The wise buyer never shows his silver.’” The gentlemen all smiled, and I thought about what I had just heard. The saying was new to me.

“Mr. Jin, this is Professor Chen Pinzhi, about whom I have spoken at such length. Professor Chen spent two years restoring your uncle’s palace.”

Mr. Jin made a reverent bow to my father. “My family owes you a debt of gratitude, Mr. Chen. Most of my relatives are in quite desperate shape, not even able to support their own families. Without you, my uncle’s residence would have fallen into utter ruin.”

My father returned the bow with folded hands and said, “Mr. Jin, please allow me to thank your family for the opportunity to fulfil my dream, to bring such a magnificent structure back to its glory. I believe that the Chen family has been allowed to borrow the palace for a time and enjoy its beauty.”

Mr. Jin looked at me. “And who might this young master be?”

Mr. Qi said, “This is the youngest son of Professor Chen, Songsheng.”

Mr. Jin beamed benignly. He seemed to take an immediate liking to me.

Mr. Qi said, “Mr. Jin, in view of the hour, could you please bring out the treasure? I must confess I can hardly contain my excitement.”

“Certainly. Let me show you my family’s most valued possession.”

Several servants in gowns and jackets put on pairs of white gloves and lit sandalwood. One placed an embroidered cushion on the table. Another lay a cushion on the floor directly in front of the table. The head man walked slowly to the table, holding in both hands a rosewood box set on all four sides with deep emerald jade. He gently put the case on the cushion and then stood aside.

Mr. Jin rose and said to us, “This rosewood case bears the imperial seal of Emperor Qianlong, my great ancestor. According to my family code, I must perform a short ritual before opening this case. Please allow me.”

Mr. Jin walked slowly to the table and slowly knelt down on the cushion. He folded and lifted his hands above his forehead and kowtowed three times. Then he stood up and put on white gloves. After taking off the box cover, he withdrew a wood dowel and laid down the four sideboards of the box. This revealed an inkstone case made of dark yellow wood. Mr. Jin gently took the cover off, and everyone saw the ancient inkstone, quite worn.

“This is the inkstone of Chu Suiliang, the famed chancellor, calligrapher, and poet of the Tang Dynasty, whose writings have been admired for 1,300 years.” Mr. Jin lifted it carefully. “This treasure is precious not only for itself but also for these rosewood side boards. Each board displays the imperial seals of emperors from the Tang, Song, Ming, and Qing Dynasties.” All eyes were upon the opened box and the four seals impressed upon its yellow satin liner.

Mr. Jin continued, “As far as I know, there’s nothing like it in the world, one piece with four imperial seals.” He called for a servant to bring a magnifier for his distinguished guests and a footrest to help me see it more clearly.

I was allowed to examine the treasure first, and as I carefully scrutinized each of the seals through the glass, Mr. Jin explained, “The earliest seal is from Emperor Gaozong of Tang. Chu Suiliang began his service with Gaozong’s father, Taizong. When you open the four side boards of the box, you’ll see the Tang seal on top, then seals of Emperor Shenzong of the Song Dynasty, Emperor Chengzu of the Ming Dynasty, and Emperor Qianlong, my revered ancestor.”

At that moment the room was so quiet that everybody’s breathing could easily be heard. Taking turns, everyone held the magnifier and enjoyed the four imperial seals, practically ignoring the inkstone.

My father raised his head and asked sadly, “How can you part with such a family treasure?”

“To be honest, parting with this makes my heart ache. I would give up everything else we are fleeing with in exchange for this treasure. But our trip is perilous, fraught with all sorts of dangers. I could not face my ancestors if anything happened to this precious family possession. I’ve turned it over in my thoughts again and again and made up my mind. The safest thing to do is to leave it here, entrusted to a man of perception and honor. I think you are that man.”

“Mr. Jin, I believe that Professor Chen cherishes this treasure with a depth exceeded only by your own. We know it is impossible to overvalue a priceless object. But, amidst the chaos of war, in these times of trouble, do you think it is possible that we discuss the price?” Mr. Qi asked politely.

My father shook his head vigorously in disapproval. “I accept Mr. Jin’s price. Not even one ounce of gold is to be deducted. Mr. Jin, I appreciate more than you might know that you trust me with this treasure.”

Mr. Jin was instantly moved to tears by my father’s words. “No, Professor Chen. It is my honor to have met so generous and true a person as you. Please take it at half the price that my man quoted to Mr. Qi.”

“No, quite impossible,” my father said immediately.

“I will rest in peace, my heart satisfied, if this treasure goes with you to the prince’s residence. Please don’t refuse me.”

Mr. Chang thought about it a bit and then said, “Why don’t you two just split the difference?”

My father shook both his head and his hands this time. “No, I insist. It must be the original price. Thirty gold bars, plain and simple, or else I would have qualms of conscience.”

Mr. Jin looked up through tears at my father. Then he slowly stood up, wiped his face, and turned to face his head man. “Bring me the Cabbage and Cricket.”

The servant walked to an adjoining room, returned with a rosewood box, and handed it to his master.

Mr. Jin walked over to my father. “I’m so fortunate to meet you today. I have never met a buyer like you. So I will accept the terms you demand, the original price, but you must accept one request of mine.”

“Ask and you shall have it,” my father said as he stood up quickly.

“You must take this present.” With those words, Mr. Jin opened the beautifully carved rosewood box with the soft patina that comes only with age. Inside was an ivory cabbage with a green cricket carved from bright emerald jade. I could hardly believe my eyes. The cricket looked so real with its two long, slender antennae feeling the tip of the white-green leaf of the cabbage. I wasn’t the only one in the room spellbound. This was another treasure of incalculable value and incomparable beauty!

My father was taken aback. “How could I allow this? We historians and collectors knew that such a piece existed, but then it just disappeared. And now we are face to face with it. How can I accept such a valuable present?”

“Treasures are expensive; principles are beyond measure,” Mr. Jin said. “You would shame me if you decline my gift.”

Mr. Qi said firmly, “You must take it, Professor Chen. Mr. Jin is expressing his deepest feelings.”

My father agreed. “I accept your most remarkable gift, Mr. Jin, even though I have no way to express my deep gratitude. I’ll have Mr. Yu, of my counting room, come here with Mr. Qi to bring the 30 gold bars to you by 9:00 tomorrow morning.”

“It is settled then,” Mr. Jin said.

My father stood up to leave. “Put your heart to rest, Mr. Jin. I pledge to safeguard your treasures. Would you please honor me by visiting my house before you depart?”

“I would surely like to pay you a visit. I’ve wished for some time to see the rebuilt palace. But in these uncertain times, I cannot promise. Safeguarding the inkstone was the last task keeping us in Peiping. It is best for us to say goodbye here.” Mr. Jin accompanied us to the doorway.

On the way home, I asked, “Daddy, how much do you think the cabbage and cricket is worth?”

“It’s hard to say,” Mr. Qi jumped in. “It’s a treasure of the realm.”

“I really like Mr. Jin and feel sorry for him,” I said softly. “It must be very hard for him to part with his beloved treasures. He was crying.”

“You’re right, but his tears were not for the treasures alone,” Mr. Qi said.

The Dodge drove by the red wall of the Imperial Palace. As my father gazed up at the corner tower of the palace, he said, “Mr. Qi. I must pay Mr. Jin ten more gold bars. What do you think?”

Mr. Qi shook his head and answered, “I’m afraid that simply won’t work. It will offend and hurt Mr. Jin, and he would never accept it anyway.”

The car drove into East Jingshan Street, leaving behind the Forbidden City and its surrounding moat. Its occupants should have felt joy at acquiring these two priceless treasures, but the ride home was quiet, even solemn. I couldn’t stop thinking about the tears in Mr. Jin’s eyes.