After parting from Aston, Qin Siyu left the alley, stepped onto the main road, and headed home.
He did not know why it happened. Perhaps because he had gone several nights without sleep, perhaps because his strength was completely spent, or perhaps for some other reason. Whatever it was, after walking two blocks, he started to run for a streetcar and his vision suddenly went black—
The next instant, he collapsed beside the road with a thud.
All his clothes were borrowed. Just before falling, Qin Siyu managed to brace himself and twist onto his side, landing painfully on both palms.
In his daze he thought, …Ugh.
After that, he knew nothing more.
When Qin Siyu next woke, he felt himself swaying.
He was sitting upright, but somehow he seemed to be moving…?
When they reached a brightly lit place, the motion slowed to a stop. A dozen or so seconds later, it resumed gently.
"???" Qin Siyu’s eyes flew open. "!!!"
He appeared to be inside a car!
Opening his eyes fully and sitting bolt upright, he saw the driver in the front seat. Cars of this era had very low seat backs. The man wore a white cap and white gloves, and was smoothly turning the steering wheel onto another broad avenue.
"???" Qin Siyu turned to look beside him.
A handsome young white man was gazing elegantly out the window, his long fingers interlaced over his lap. The streetlights outside cast gold across his hair and the long lashes touched with golden flecks, which sparkled faintly when he blinked.
Sensing someone looking at him, Aston asked Qin Siyu, without turning his face back as though he did not wish to waste the effort, "Chinatown? Shall we stop outside?"
"Did I faint just now?" Qin Siyu asked. "Thank you."
"You’re welcome." Aston continued looking out the window. "You are a friend of Professor Brown’s, after all."
"I still have to thank you," Qin Siyu said. "I’m only Professor Brown’s friend, not yours."
Aston did not answer. Such distinctions were unimportant.
Qin Siyu had never ridden in a sedan before, and he was curious.
He watched the driver closely, observing his gloved hands as they operated the car.
Sometimes he sat up tall, sometimes he leaned forward. Aston watched him from the corner of his eye.
When Qin Siyu straightened his back to study a device in the car, Aston offered another cool explanation. "A navigation device. It’s called Iter Avto."
"How does it navigate?" Qin Siyu asked.
Aston did not go on. The driver, Parker, understood the question and answered in his stead. "It’s quite easy to use. We fit a roll of paper printed with the route into it. The paper connects to the car’s speedometer and advances automatically according to the distance traveled, guiding us along the route."
"I see," Qin Siyu said.
How remarkable.
This was currently America’s most luxurious sedan model, the Cadillac V-16, the first production car powered by a sixteen-cylinder engine. Each was built to the customer’s specifications.
It represented the pinnacle of American industry, but Qin Siyu knew none of that.
He kept watching the driver, while Aston glanced at him only occasionally.
As they drove through one neighborhood, Parker suddenly reached over and shut the window. Some sort of disturbance appeared to be taking place outside, and the noise was growing louder.
Qin Siyu instinctively looked out.
Several men staggered wildly out of a park, running in panic, with police officers in pursuit.
The men fled, but the officers would not let them go.
The police were arresting homosexual men.
The officers soon caught up with the fugitives and pinned them to the ground. The men’s pale upper bodies twisted and thrashed like fish flesh on a cutting board.
One officer struck a man’s forehead with his baton. The man let out a terrible howl, cries of "Ah! Ah!" piercing the San Francisco night.
Qin Siyu watched them, too.
This was illegal.
It was regarded as "against nature."
As early as 1909, California had passed a law permitting sterilization of those convicted of "sodomy" two or more times. In the years since, many had been sentenced for it, some to ten or even twenty years in prison.
By 1914, California law had explicitly included "fellatio" and "cunnilingus" as illegal acts. In practice, the law targeted homosexual people in particular. It classified the acts as felonies carrying sentences that could exceed fifteen years.
Elio’s Notes: California’s statute explicitly naming these acts was enacted in 1915, rather than 1914. Courts subsequently invalidated that wording in 1919, and legislators enacted a revised prohibition in 1921.
The Lewd and Dissolute Conduct Law made it easy for police to entrap homosexual men, allowing arrests for even the slightest physical contact.
It was said that dozens could be arrested in a single weekend.
During the Roaring Twenties, lights blazed across America, where fashionable extravagance, uproar, and excess were everywhere. Homosexuality was common, even fashionable. At costume balls, men in long dresses and elaborate headpieces and women in suits or tailcoats had become symbols of daring modernity.
But now…
Noise, entertainment, cultural experimentation, and self-expression were all blamed, in part, for the economic collapse. Homosexual people, seen as representatives of "self-centeredness" and "cultural experimentation," became scapegoats.
That very year, the sword of Damocles fell again. New York State officially passed a law declaring sexual relations between one man and another unlawful.
Homosexual people were prosecuted in large numbers. They were called "criminals," "lunatics," and "imbeciles."
"Sexual psychopaths" had to be sent to prison or psychiatric hospitals.
As the economy worsened, people seemed utterly incapable of understanding or tolerating one another. Whenever they encountered someone different from themselves, they instinctively and uncontrollably screamed accusations in their minds: Is it you? Is it you pieces of trash? Are you the ones who ruined this country and brought hardworking people like me to this? Is it you?! It must be you!
Aston also looked out the window.
Qin Siyu quietly asked, "They’re arresting gay men, aren’t they?"
"Mm," Aston agreed.
Perhaps because there were only the two of them in the back seat, their eyes met for a moment for no particular reason.
On the street, the officers caught the last pair of men they had been chasing.
The two fell to the ground, desperately holding one another.
They curled close together like conjoined infants newly emerged from the womb, clinging to each other as though they knew nothing of this world and feared everything in it, and the only familiar thing, the only source of safety, was the other person.
An officer seized each of them, trying forcefully to pull them apart.
The police shouted "Fuck!" as they bent over to separate the pair.
But the two men on the ground clung to each other with everything they had. The officers could not pry them apart.
After several attempts, the officers grew furious, straightened up, and began kicking them with the hard toes of their police boots!
The blows struck their heads, backs, and waists with dull thuds in the darkness, accompanied by furious curses!
A few stray dogs ran away in terror. Even the stray dogs were skin and bones these days.
Resting his chin on his hand, Qin Siyu stayed silent for a moment before asking Aston, "What do you think of those two?"
Aston had, of course, seen everything. After a rare moment of silence, he answered, "The Lord does not permit it."
Qin Siyu gave a little laugh but did not argue. "All right."
He understood that, given Aston’s class and position, religious belief was to be expected.
Outside the window, the "conjoined infants" were finally torn apart and taken away by the police. Like babies separated from their mother, they cried out in despair.
The car remained silent for the rest of the journey.
At one point Aston looked over at Qin Siyu again. Qin Siyu returned the look, silently asking, "???"
Aston suddenly noticed something unusual about his eyelids.
Aston’s own double eyelids, like those of other handsome Anglo-Saxon men, had parallel folds. Qin Siyu’s folds, however, opened outward. They seemed single near the inner corners, then divided and gradually widened toward the outer edges. Each crease swept upward, not in a straight line but in a subtle curve, opening, running parallel for a stretch, and rising again at the outer corner, where the eyes themselves tilted slightly.
Much later, he would learn that in the East this was called a "small fan-shaped" double-eyelid crease, a distinctive and graceful shape.
"It’s nothing," Aston replied.
Sensing the other man’s gaze on his eyes, Qin Siyu assumed he was looking at the tiny mole beneath one of them.
"Are you looking at this?" He brushed it with his fingertip. "In China, we call it a ‘tear mole.’"
"A tear mole?"
"Mm." Qin Siyu smiled faintly. "When it’s beneath the eye, that’s what it’s called. They say it means you owed someone a debt of love in a previous life and must repay it in this one. You’ll have to shed tears and endure hardships before you can be together."
"Fatalism, is it? Very Eastern romance." Aston glanced at the mole and asked casually, not taking the belief seriously, "Have you any idea who that person might be?"
"I don’t think that person exists." Qin Siyu looked at him just as Aston’s eyes lifted; their gazes brushed together.
"Really?" Aston said.
"Mm," Qin Siyu replied softly, distantly. "It’s probably just a legend."
The car continued toward Chinatown.
The driver was about to descend Lombard Street. As he made the first bend, perhaps taking it too sharply, something fell out of Qin Siyu’s trouser pocket with a smack.
"?" Aston glanced at the carpet and then fell silent. "…………"
It was part of the dinner the dance marathon organizers had served the contestants.
Because the dancers needed to maintain their strength, the marathon dinners were lavish: bread, eggs, milk, fruit, sausages, and much more.
The dining tables were chest-high so that contestants could eat while they danced.
And Qin Siyu… had slipped two chocolate bars into his pocket.
The kind used to replenish energy.
"…" Qin Siyu glanced around the car and fell silent for a second himself before explaining, "These are really delicious. I’ve never had them before. I wanted to take them home and let my family try them. I think they’ll like them."
He planned to give one to Lin Xiangmei and Qin Sanfu, and the other to Lin Suyu. Her eyes had sparkled when she tasted one earlier.
Aston glanced at the two pieces of candy again.
They were Snickers bars, introduced by Mars only the previous year: chocolate with a layer of caramel, nougat within, and peanuts folded inside. It was quite normal that Qin Siyu had never eaten one.
"I imagine they will," Aston said.
Lombard Street descended steeply through eight hairpin turns, with residents tending vivid flowers along the steps on either side, which was why it was known as the winding flower street. Hydrangeas were in bloom just then. Afraid the chocolates might slide too far away, or even get lost, Qin Siyu hunched over to pick them up.
One bar had rolled beneath a front seat.
The car was spacious, and the chocolate had slid so far away that Qin Siyu could not reach it by feel. He climbed down from the rear seat and squatted on the floor to reach farther forward.
He spread his fingers across the carpet, patting here and there until he finally felt it.
He had been searching for so long that just as the tip of his middle finger touched the wrapper, the car rounded another sharp bend!
His fingertip slipped away. No longer able to control his position, Qin Siyu felt himself flung violently sideways. He was about to lose his balance!
Before he could topple over, he grabbed the first thing beside his hand!
Whatever he seized went rigid. His whole body slid with the car’s momentum, his right hand gripping Aston’s calf, and his right ear struck Aston’s knee with a smack.
The turn was so sharp that his ear remained pressed to Aston’s knee, and his hand gripped the other man’s calf tightly for fear of falling, until the driver completed the bend.
His fingers pinched Aston’s trouser fabric, his palm pressed against the muscle and shinbone beneath the black trousers, and his hair brushed the cloth.
Aston lowered his lashes and saw only a fluffy black head pressed against his somewhat stiff left knee.
They had not finished descending Lombard Street. More turns lay ahead. Every time the car turned left, Qin Siyu’s forehead pressed firmly against Aston’s knee. Whenever it turned right, he gripped Aston’s calf for dear life to keep from being thrown aside. At last the turns were over, and Aston could see that they had left the winding street behind. Knowing Qin Siyu, squatting on the floor, could not possibly realize this, he drew his leg away elegantly and said, "We’re through."
Qin Siyu let go of his leg, retrieved the candy, and sat back on the seat. "I’m sorry."
Aston relaxed his leg. "It’s nothing."
In front, Parker turned around anxiously. "Master…"
In those days, for a member of an ethnic minority to initiate physical contact with a white person without permission was a serious matter.
Aston stopped him. "It’s nothing," he repeated.
Qin Siyu had already hooked a finger under his chin. What difference did this make?
After descending the winding street, the car turned onto Hyde Street.
They went a little farther and were approaching Nob Hill.
The area had fine views and an excellent location. Many wealthy West Coast families had built mansions there, including Stanford himself. Although the earthquake had destroyed many mansions, plenty of wealthy residents remained unwilling to leave. It was still a rich neighborhood.
Aston glanced at Qin Siyu, reached up, took one of his own coats off its hook, and gently draped it over Qin Siyu’s head.
Abruptly covered by the wool coat of the person sitting beside him, Qin Siyu: "???"
The coat carried a faint fragrance.
He knew it was perfume, but he had never used any, and no one around him did, either.
In fact, Qin Siyu had noticed the delicate scent earlier.
It was a little different from women’s perfume, with a light woody fragrance, clean and steady.
Now that the coat covered his face, the scent was everywhere.
It clung to his hair, brushed his lips, and touched his neck.
So close, it seemed much stronger.
Peering out from beneath the coat, Qin Siyu looked at Aston in confusion. "What’s the matter?"
Aston looked almost apologetic, his lofty manner much subdued. "We’re approaching Nob Hill. Many relatives and friends of the family live here. I have nothing against any race, but I’d rather avoid trouble. I’m sorry. Please bear with this for a little while."
He was not lying. He did not discriminate against any race, but as the only son of a business dynasty he also considered himself cold and pragmatic.
That night he had walked out on the dance marathon prize ceremony, and his car was conspicuous. If someone really did see him riding with a Chinese man, his father Alex would…
It was 1932. Many states still had segregated railroad cars, with whites and people of color required to sit separately, and restaurants likewise had different sections. If someone saw a man like Aston sitting with him in a car…
Qin Siyu gave a small laugh. Yes, that could certainly cause "trouble."
People would grow curious and ask questions; someone might even tell his parents. Aston did not want to deal with more problems because of him.
But Qin Siyu slowly removed the coat from his head and said very calmly, "Mr. Aston, please stop the car."
Aston appeared surprised. "There’s still some distance to Chinatown. It would take at least half an hour on foot. You’ve been dancing for days. I doubt you can manage it."
He had even fainted a little while ago.
Qin Siyu kept looking at him, his expression still calm. Aston’s wool coat hung loose and large around his shoulders. "Thank you for bringing me this far, but… please stop the car. I’m sorry. I really can’t accept having to cover myself up… just because my hair and eyes are black."
Their gazes met with almost painful intensity. Aston was silent for a moment, then told Parker, "Stop the car."
The Cadillac glided to a halt at the roadside. Qin Siyu got out, thanked them once again, and supported himself as he started walking uphill.
Aston watched from behind. Qin Siyu moved very slowly, but he kept walking.
After a moment Aston withdrew his gaze, leaned back against the seat, and told the driver, "Let’s go back. Drive."