Paper Butterfly (Mei Wang Series #2)

( 3 )


• International phenomenon: Diane Wei Liang is the ideal international author: a native of China, she has lived and taught in the U.S. and the UK. Her compelling detective series, like Alexander McCall Smith’s The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, has already captured attention around the globe..

• An authentic and skillful storyteller: Diane Wei Liang fled Tiananmen Square in June 1989 and returned to Beijing six years later to find the sweetheart she lost when the troops rolled ...

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Paper Butterfly: A Mei Wang Mystery

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• International phenomenon: Diane Wei Liang is the ideal international author: a native of China, she has lived and taught in the U.S. and the UK. Her compelling detective series, like Alexander McCall Smith’s The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, has already captured attention around the globe..

• An authentic and skillful storyteller: Diane Wei Liang fled Tiananmen Square in June 1989 and returned to Beijing six years later to find the sweetheart she lost when the troops rolled in, separating them but never severing their bond. In the Mei Wang mystery series, she draws deeply from her life story, filling her books with vivid details that only someone who has lived it firsthand can know..

• An unusual heroine with a growing reputation : Mei Wang is the first successful female private detective in Beijing, and after capturing readers’ hearts in The Eye of Jade , a Book Sense Pick for February 2008, she now turns her attention to the next challenge. When beloved Chinese pop music star Kaili disappears, Mei must unravel a mystery filled with family secrets and the shadowy truth behind China’s labor camps. As Mei follows a trail of clues, Wei Liang takes readers on an adventure through China that will leave them looking forward to part three..

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

Two narratives drive Liang's absorbing second mystery to feature PI Wang Mei, who once worked for the ministry of public security (after 2008's The Eye of Jade): Mei's search for a missing pop singer, Kaili, and a subplot that begins nine years earlier with the imprisonment of a student, Lin, for participating in the student demonstrations in Tiananmen Square. Mei's investigation is slowed by the absence of her assistant, Gupin, but as she travels among many Beijing settings, including open-air markets, a big record company's offices, isolated construction areas and migrant workers' housing, the city's astonishing diversity and energy come alive. Fueled by innumerable tidbits about Chinese culture and daily life, the story is refreshingly low on Western-centric references. While the bias is clear, Liang, who left China after taking part in the Tiananmen Square protests, presents the politics with minimal dogma. A twist ending redeems a somewhat thin plot. (May)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Library Journal

A high-ranking Beijing cop-turned-PI, Mei Wang (The Eye of Jade) is hired to find a missing singer. At the same time, a leader of the 1989 Tiananmen Square uprising is released from the prison camp where he has been brutalized for years. Memories of Mei's own traumatic past (her father died in a labor camp) return as she reads the letters found in the young singer's apartment. The author, who spent her childhood in a labor camp and escaped China in 1989 after taking part in the student uprising, uses recent Chinese history as a catalyst for a haunting mystery that leaves readers with an intense sadness. [See Prepub Mystery, LJ1/09.]

—Jo Ann Vicarel
Kirkus Reviews
Beijing's only female private eye follows the trail of a missing pop singer through the hutongs of downscale Dashanzi. Calling herself an "information consultant" keeps Mei Wang (The Eye of Jade, 2008) on the right side of China's proscription against private detectives. But Peng Datong, CEO of Guanghua Record Company, knows that Mei is the right person to consult when his star performer Kaili disappears after a show at Capital Gymnasium. The perfume, cigarettes and pill bottles on Kaili's dressing table suggest a vain, self-involved diva, but the letters Mei finds from a distant lover-along with a delicate paper butterfly-hint at a more sensitive soul. As Spring Festival approaches and migrant workers flock from Beijing back to the provinces, Mei follows Kaili's trail to Dashanzi, where migrants live in abandoned factories. In nearby Tofu Mill Hutong, in the shadow of Drum Tower, overworked police detective Zhao helps her cope with increasing pressure to abandon her mission. Interleaved with Mei's search is the story of young Lin's struggle to find his way back to Beijing after his release from East Wind Lao Gai Camp in distant Gansu, where he spent eight years being purged of anti-revolutionary speech. As she struggles with her guilt at failing to support her fellow students at Tiananmen Square, Mei becomes convinced that justice will come only to those willing to fight for it. Fusing a strong sense of place with concern for issues that span the globe, Liang makes Mei Wang's Beijing at once exotic and familiar.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781416549581
  • Publisher: Simon & Schuster
  • Publication date: 2/23/2010
  • Series: Mei Wang Series, #2
  • Pages: 227
  • Product dimensions: 5.60 (w) x 8.58 (h) x 0.63 (d)

Meet the Author

Diane Wei Liang was born in Beijing. She spent part of her childhood with her parents in a labor camp in a remote region of China. In 1989 she took part in the Student Democracy Movement and protested in Tiananmen Square. Diane is a graduate of Peking University. She has a Ph.D. in business administration from Carnegie Mellon University and was a professor of business in the U.S. and the U.K. for more than ten years. She now writes full-time and lives in London with her husband and their two children.
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Read an Excerpt


lt was two weeks before Chinese New Year, the spring festival that marks the end of winter. It is the principal holiday of the year, with celebrations that last seven days. Red Luck Posters were stuck to the door of each home. Meat was marinated and strong rice wine, ju, bought. Families arranged visits, and banquets were prepared. In Beijing millions thronged the temple fairs to complete their holiday shopping.

The largest miaohui was in Ditan Park. There the noise was deafening. Drums thudded, cymbals clashed, and trumpets blared in the cold air. Stall holders called their wares, and customers shouted for children to keep up.

Swept along by the crowds, Mei walked beside her sister, whose mood had darkened. "Why must we come here every year?" Lu moaned. "All these people pushing each other — and where's Mama?"

"She said she wanted to buy something." Mei stood on tiptoe to search but couldn't see her. Red lanterns swayed under the white stone arch of the sacrifice altar, where the emperor would offer sacrifices to earth at the summer solstice, and behind it, more crowds and stalls.

"Fireworks! Fireworks for Spring Festival!"

"Luck Posters to welcome the spring and banish ghosts!"

Dancers on stilts appeared at the end of the lane, accompanied by trumpets and drums. The women wore red satin and waved vast pink fans. The men were in long blue robes and domed hats beneath which their faces were heavily made up with thickly lined eyes and rouge cheeks. Two children ran in front of them, causing some to wobble. At that moment Mei saw her mother pushing through the crowd with two bottle gourds.

"Hulu?" Lu frowned and uncrossed her arms to take the gourd.

"For luck — and a grandson soon," said Ling Bai.

"Mama!" Lu protested. Her blush of embarrassment was endearing.

"As for you" — Ling Bai turned to Mei — "it will protect you against demons."

"I don't need it."

Ling Bai glared at her elder daughter. "Thirty-one years old and no boyfriend? You need a lucky charm."

Lu nudged Mei with her elbow. "Just take it," she whispered.

"Hulu is very powerful. Look at the curves. It's heaven and earth in union, true harmony. Especially lucky for a woman," Ling Bai averred.

They walked up the stone steps to the sacrifice altar, where a jiaozi theater was in full swing, musicians playing in exaggerated ways, trumpets, drums, cymbals, and an erhu, a Chinese stringed instrument. As four men danced, they tossed a sedan chair — the jiaozi — with an actress inside it.

"Where are you going, young wife?" roared the men.

"Going back to my mama's house," sang the actress.

"Where is your husband?"

"At home, like a little boy, with his mother."

The audience laughed. But Lu stood rigid and glared at the spectacle. She loathed folk dancing. Mei glanced at her mother, who was smiling, enjoying the play. Her face was lined, and strands of her gray hair blew across her face in the wind. Mei shivered with cold and guilt. But how could she love if she could not forgive? She had learned the truth, which had separated her from her mother as completely as if a shutter had fallen between them.

She shook her head as if to clear it. She wished she could confide in someone, to share the burden.

"Shall we find some bingtang hulu?" asked Ling Bai. Candied hawthorn on a stick was a favorite winter delicacy that everyone munched at the miaohui.

"Not for me," said Lu. "How can you eat something that's been lying about in this dust for hours?"

The Wangs made their way to the North Gate, Ling Bai searching for a bingtang hulu stall.

"People are staring at you," Mei muttered to her sister.

"Are they?"

Lu sounded indifferent, and Mei knew why. Her sister was strikingly beautiful but never gave it a thought. It was of interest only to others.

Ling Bai bought two bingtang hulu, one for Mei and one for herself. They ate them as they walked. The path leading to the North Gate was packed with stalls. A man was pouring tea from a large copper pot with a very long spout. Smoke rose from kebab braziers, the scents of cumin and chili in the air. Colorful windmills spun, and red lanterns dangled like giant fruit from leafless branches.

An ice slide stood in the middle of North Gate Square, children and adults squeaking and laughing as they slid down. A long queue snaked around the ticket booth. Bright banners displaying miyu, riddles, hung from the trees, where a large crowd had gathered.

Ling Bai and Mei liked miyu. Some years ago, when Mei was still a girl, they had competed on National Day and won prizes.

"There's one," said Mei, reading aloud. " 'A good beginning — a foreign currency.'" She thought for a while. "The answer is U.S. dollars — mei yuan. Mei means 'beautiful,' and yuan can mean 'beginning,'" she whispered to Ling Bai.

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed her mother. "Write it down and we'll win a prize."

"One won't get us far. We'll need to solve at least ten to win something worthwhile," Lu said.

"We have plenty of time." Mei glanced at Lu.

"I'm tired of standing about in the cold," said Lu sweetly. It wasn't a complaint. "We've been out for hours."

"Perhaps you're right," Ling Bai said, clutching her shopping bag.

Lu took her mother's arm. "It's the same every year."

They heard a drumroll from the direction of the sacrifice altar, and someone shouted, "Lion Dance!" The crowd surged.

Mei, Lu, and Ling Bai walked out of the North Gate, where taxis were delivering revelers to the fair. Lu found an empty one and got in, her mother following. Mei sat next to the driver.

"Where to?" cried the driver jovially.

"The Grand Hotel," said Lu.

He started the engine and turned on the meter. "Which way shall I go? Changan Boulevard is at a standstill."

"Whichever way's the quickest," said Lu with a hint of impatience.

At the Grand Hotel, they sat at a table with a white linen cloth in the Red Wall café. The waitress brought tea in a silver pot, and as she set it down, the china tinkled. She went away, then returned with a cappuccino for Lu.

The café had a high ceiling, crystal lights, and a spiral staircase with a vine growing up the banister. Potted plants and panoramic windows gave the impression of a lush conservatory. A waiter brought Western cakes on a trolley, so perfect they might have been made of plastic.

Ling Bai eyed them. "Too beautiful to eat." Mei ordered a yellow piece with icing. She hoped it was cheesecake, which she had eaten once before and liked.

Lu stirred her coffee. "They were saying there'll be snow tomorrow."

"I'm not surprised. This is the time of Big Chill, the coldest two weeks of the year," said Ling Bai.

Sitting in the café, Mei found that hard to believe. They were insulated here from the outside world.

Lu took out her mobile phone. "Li-ning is having lunch at the China Club. Maybe he could join us if they've finished."

Mei and Ling Bai sipped their tea, awkward together now that Lu's attention was elsewhere. Mei gazed out of a window, her strong nose and firm mouth making her profile sharp. The sky was darker, clouds dense, and traffic thick as mud idled on Changan Boulevard. Mei stretched for a glimpse of Tiananmen Square, which was not far away, but she couldn't see it.

"Can't you come for a few minutes?" Lu said into the phone. She sounded annoyed.

"When do you leave for Canada?" Mei asked her mother, although she knew the date. She was embarrassed that Ling Bai was eavesdropping on Lu's conversation.

"In a week, I think," said Ling Bai gloomily. "Will I see you before I go?"

"You know that Gupin, my assistant, is going home for Spring Festival. I'm afraid I'll be too busy," Mei said to her teacup rather than to her mother.

Ling Bai sighed. "You should think of finding a new assistant. I thought you were doing well — why keep a migrant worker in the office, especially a man? People will talk."

"I don't care what anyone says. Gupin is good at his job. Unlike some, he has a high school diploma and is taking evening classes at the university." Suddenly, Mei was picturing Gupin's chiseled face and muscular shoulders in her mind's eye. She wondered what he was doing this weekend. Perhaps he was still at work on the case of the boy who had died in the hospital during a routine operation. Perhaps he had been shopping for his sick mother — he could even have been at the miaohui, buying Beijing treats to take home. The thought made her smile.

Lu shut her phone. "I'm sorry. Li-ning won't be able to come, even though he wants to. They're going to the driving range with Big Boss Dong."

"He's always busy." Mei remembered the last dinner Li-ning couldn't make.

"Everyone wants to collaborate with him on their projects or persuade him to invest. It's hard to be a tycoon."

"Surely — "

"I don't mind. I know what it takes to be a success. He has to put a great deal of time and effort into networking, which means making sacrifices in our personal life. I have to do the same for my show," Lu said. She hosted a program on Beijing TV in which she interviewed and offered counseling to people who had problems such as adulterous affairs or difficult mothers-in-law. It had proved popular, and for a time there had been talk about broadcasting it nationally.

"You both work so hard I hardly see you," Ling Bai said, looking first at Lu, then at Mei. "Especially you."

"Mama, you know everyone wants their case solved yesterday."

"Opportunity! It's everywhere these days. If you don't grab it, someone else will." Lu raised a hand to silence Mei, who had been about to interrupt. "I don't know how much you make, Mei, catching cheating husbands, but for us, lost opportunity might cost millions. So we work all the time, trying to keep up. Li-ning and I know we're being unfair to our family and friends" — she laid a hand affectionately on her mother's — "and that's why this Spring Festival, we're taking Mama with us to Vancouver to see Li-ning's family." She turned to Mei. "Mama told me you've stopped going to see her since she came out of the hospital."

"You've done no better." Mei stole an uneasy glance at Ling Bai.

"I'm busy. I have my show, I lecture, and sometimes I travel overseas with my husband. And yichuo — you can't imagine! Dinners, lunches, parties, going to the theater and the opera with business contacts. If we never said no, we'd be working twenty-four hours a day. But Mama's been to see us for dinner. We've gone shopping together." Lu glanced at Ling Bai. "We've grown closer since she had her stroke. What happened last spring made me realize that we can't take anything for granted. One day we will lose her, and then we'll wish we'd looked after her properly."

Mei couldn't contradict her, but neither could she explain. She was silent, swirling the tea in the bottom of her cup.

"Have you heard," said Ling Bai, eager to defuse the tension, "Hu Bin's been released."

"Wasn't he one of the student leaders at Tiananmen?"

Ling Bai nodded. "Mei knew him at university, didn't you?"

"I met him a couple of times on campus," said Mei. She had seen it in small print on page twenty-one of today's Beijing Daily. Hu Bin had been sentenced to twelve years for leading the student protest in 1989. His release, three years early, might mean he was ill.

Hu Bin's release had brought back uncomfortable memories. Mei had already been working at the police headquarters — the Ministry for Public Security — when the students had taken to the streets in the spring of 1989. Every day she had read avidly about the protest in the square, but unlike millions of other office and factory workers in the city, she had not gone out to join them. She had sat behind her desk at the ministry, ensconced on the other side. The side who, in the end, went against the students. To this day, she reproached herself for that. The guilt for not having being with those she cared about lodged in her heart like a stone. But how could she have known that it would end in blood? That people would die and friends like Hu Bin would be imprisoned for so long?

She could reproach herself for so much. It had been her, really, she reflected, who had stolen her father's life. Their mother had denounced him for criticizing Mao's polices during the Cultural Revolution; it had been her only way to save her children from the labor camp. Her evidence had helped send him to prison, where he died young. When Mei stumbled on the truth the year before, while uncovering an ancient jade lost since the Cultural Revolution, she had been angry at first, but then she had grieved. Hatred threatened to destroy her love for her mother. Mei wished she could forgive the woman who had made such great sacrifices and given Mei life twice.

Her mother's voice brought Mei back to the Red Wall café. "It's a goodwill gesture, I suppose, to release him before the holiday."

"I'm sure that's right," said Lu, finishing her coffee. "It's about time, too. Such ancient history. It's better for both sides to forget."

"It's only been nine years," retorted Mei.

"Exactly. Ancient history." Lu tossed her hair over a shoulder and laughed. "My dear sister, you live too much in the past, and everyone else has moved on. How does the old proverb go? 'The present is like gold.'"

At that moment, the waiter brought their cakes. For a while they gazed, awestruck and silent, at the art on their plates. Then Mei took a bite of hers and shuddered. It was lime, not cheesecake, and she didn't like lime.

"Lu's right," Ling Bai said to Mei through a mouthful of her napoleon. "You must forget the past and move on. Don't carry it with you. Learn to forgive."

Mei's heart jumped. Did her mother know that she had found out what had happened to her father?

"Will you go back to Ya-ping?" Ling Bai asked.

Mei sighed. "But you didn't like him — you didn't want me to marry him."

"That was years ago, when he was only a student from the provinces. He's a successful businessman now, living in Chicago."

"He's also divorced."

"So is Li-ning." Ling Bai gazed proudly at her younger daughter. "That it may make him a better husband."

Mei took another bite of her cake. "Once a cup's broken, it can't be mended."

"That's because you don't want to mend it," said Lu. "He broke your heart, yes, but that's more ancient history. Live in the present. It's the key to happiness."

"And you can let me worry about my love life." What if Mei couldn't learn to forgive and forget?

Lu gestured to the waiter for the bill, then said to Mei, "But I care about you because you're my sister. A friend of mine will call you tomorrow. His name is Mr. Peng. He's the chairman of Guanghua Record Company. He might have a case for you — could be a big one."

"Thank you," said Mei. Her sister had irritated her with unsolicited advice, but she had just redeemed herself.

Copyright © 2008 by Diane Wei Liang

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 3 )
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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 13, 2014


    Hahahahaahah taiwan-san has her own mystery!!! Do not coment unlesd you understamd it because otherwide you will think i am wring when i am referencing something.

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  • Posted April 17, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    fans will enjoy this modern day China private investigative thriller

    No longer working for the Ministry of Public Security, Wang Mei knows from experience how slippery a slope she walks as an "information consultant"; private investigators are prohibited in China. Guanghua Record Company CEO Peng Datong hires Mei as a "consultant" researching the disappearance of his pop superstar Kaili. She vanished following a highly regarded performance at Beijing's Capital Gymnasium. ---------

    Mei finds Kaili's dressing table filled with cigarettes and pills, but it is the letters and a PAPER BUTTERFLY the sleuth finds that interest her. Apparently, Kaili has a long distant sweetheart. As the migrants leave Beijing to work in the provinces, Mei follows Kaili to Dashanzi where the workers live in abandoned factories while in the city. Meanwhile pressure rises on Mei to drop her investigation with only Police Detective Zhao helping her. At the same time, Mei feels guilty when a former student Lin returns to Beijing after her release from remote East Wind Lao Gai Camp where he was educated and purged of his inflammatory role at the Tiananmen Square demonstrations.------------

    Though readers will know instantly which side of the Tiananmen Square human rights debate that Diane Wei Liang is on, fans will enjoy this modern day China private investigative thriller. Fascinatingly Wang being an information consultant is mindful of Mosley's Easy Rawlins who also could not be a professional sleuth in 1960s Los Angeles; adding depth to her fall from grace is her former peers and her family scorns her for quitting her prestigious job to go capitalist. The story line focuses intensely on China for instance the drop in acceptance of migratory workers to second class with the professionals like Datong taking over the city. The story line is somewhat leisurely flowed as the emphasis is on the culture and human rights.-----------

    Harriet Klausner

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 10, 2011

    No text was provided for this review.

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