Maid for the Billionaire(38)

The limo headed out of the city. The wide paved roads narrowed into dirt roads that wound through the mountains. "How far are we going?" Abby asked.

Zhang shrugged. "A little over an hour outside of the city. There is someone I'd like you to meet. She owns the only store in Saun Li."

They passed a small farmhouse, a simple white rectangular structure with a red tiled roof. Its only distinctive farm feature was the assortment of small animals scattered across its lawn and the rocky hill beside it. A donkey grazed, loose, in the sparse vegetation on the other side of the road.

Had the drive been for any other reason, Abby would have asked to have the car pull over. In the distance she could see a man sitting on a rock watching a small flock of sheep. His dark blue shirt and tan pants were not what she imagined a rural shepherd would wear.

Zhang noted her interest and said, "His name is Xin Yui. He splits his time between his work in the city and his parents' farm. Some rural families are allowed more than one child, but he bears the full responsibility of his parents. If he is lucky, his city job will allow him to afford to move his parents into the city with him, although I doubt they will go willingly. Their family has been on that land for many generations."

With some disappointment, Abby watched the small farm disappear from view. "You sound like you know him."

"I was born in this area," Zhang said curtly and turned away from the window, away from her memories. "Wen Chan is one I have brought you to meet. She went to just enough university to learn how to start a small business. The money she makes from her store feeds her entire family and allowed her to leave her abusive husband. In the past, poverty would have kept her with him with no choices."#p#分页标题#e#

The mountain road widened and smoothed the closer they came to a small town that seemed to appear out of nowhere. No more than twenty buildings made up the cluster of dwellings Zhang had called a town. In the center of it stood a small outdoor food market and an unassuming storefront with a hand-painted sign that Abby guessed was Wen's family name. Men and women gathered to talk near the store.

A woman in a plain cotton brown blouse and pants stood in the doorway of the store watching the limo park. Zhang instructed her driver and men to wait with the vehicles. Abby followed her out onto the hard dirt of the road.

The shopkeeper ushered them into her small shop and spoke to Zhang quickly in Mandarin. Her affection for her famous guest spoke of a familiarity that surprised Abby. The store was neat and clean, but little more than a few rows of shelves of food and basic necessities.

Abby bowed her head slightly in greeting. The woman greeted her in Mandarin. Abby answered her in the common language of China. "Nin hao."

Zhang spun to look at her from across the aisle of the small market. She switched over to Mandarin herself and asked, "You speak Mandarin?"

Abby gave a humble shrug and answered in that language. "A little."

"Why?" Zhang asked.

"I teach English to students from many countries. I like to study languages." Abby was what she called street proficient in seven languages. Her mastery was not university level, but she could understand and utilize many simple phrases and this talent often allowed her to assist non-English speaking families when translators were unavailable. It had been one such grateful family who had welcomed her into their home and given her basic lessons in the language they called simplified Chinese.

The shop keeper said, "You are very good."

Zhang said, "Your mastery of the tones is impressive."

Abby had received the same compliment from some of the parents of her Chinese students. Her vocabulary was limited, but she did have a good ear for what she called the music of languages. The challenge in learning Mandarin had been that the same word could mean several things if it the speaker changed which part of the word they stressed. Luckily her self-appointed tutors had been patient. "I speak only a little," Abby said, "but thank you."

At Zhang's prompting, Wen Chan slowly spoke of how the education she'd received had freed her and allowed her to build this life for herself and her family. She looked at Zhang several times during the sad, but inspirational story and Abby suspected that she wanted to thank Zhang for her involvement. Abby wasn't able to translate every word of the story, but she understood enough to be able to ask clarifying questions.

Zhang grudgingly admitted, "You're not what I expected from an American woman."

Abby switched back to English when she could not find the correct words to express her thoughts. "I think we both learned today that stereotypes are often wrong. I bet many Americans aren't aware of the cultural changes that are sweeping your country."