Some evil hands are always there trying to bind my feet, Madame Mao will say.

Even when winds buffet me from all directions, I never give up hope. This is my biggest virtue. Someone said that it was by accident that I sprouted. No. It was no accident. I created my own opportunity. Raining or snowing, I never missed one show. I was always there and always made myself available. I was never late or gave myself an excuse to retire early. I didn't waste time on gossiping or knitting sweaters by the stage curtain. I watched the leading lady.

Yes, I was bored to tears, but I made myself stay. I memorized the character's every aria and every word. It is not that I am so wise that I can predict what will happen next. What I do know is that if one wants to get a boat ride, one must be near the river.

The leading lady has the flu. Sick as she is, she doesn't want to leave the show. For days she drags herself through the play. It is Monday evening and it is rainy and wet. The actress is on the verge of collapsing. After peeping through the curtain at the small crowd she asks for the night off. The stage manager is furious with such short notice. The actress calls up a rickshaw and leaves the theater. It is seven o'clock. Fifteen minutes to curtain time. In the makeup room the stage manager paces in circles like a dog chasing its own tail. When the curtain bell rings he punches his fist into the makeup room mirror.

In the broken mirror Yunhe's face appears. Fully made up and dressed for the role.

I am ready to carry on the show, the girl says. I have been ready. Please, sir, give me a chance.

Thy white face doth powder spurn… The manager recites an aria from the middle of the play.

Vermilion must yet from thy lips learn. Yunhe opens her mouth with a full voice. Flesh of snow, bones of jade, dream thy dreams, peerless one, not for this world thou art made.