Author: Niu Zhao

Excerpted from *Jie Jie*, Issue 11, 2013Original Editor's Note: The author of this article, who at the time served as a member of the leadership at the Xinhua News Agency’s Hong Kong bureau, was ordered to maintain secret contact with Teresa Teng for three years. Through this article, we get a glimpse of a little-known side of Teresa Teng.

Secret Encounters with Teresa Teng
In the spring of 1986, Ms. Peng Yanyan of the Culture and Sports Department at the Xinhua News Agency’s Hong Kong Bureau met Teresa Teng at a friend’s gathering. Teresa Teng was very warm toward her new acquaintance and, as they parted, expressed her desire to establish regular contact with Xinhua, though she asked that this remain confidential.
Since China and the United Kingdom began negotiations on the Hong Kong issue, the Xinhua News Agency’s Hong Kong bureau has been engaging with an increasingly broad range of sectors of society. For various reasons, some individuals have maintained contact with the bureau in secret. Among them are officials from the British Hong Kong government, some prominent so-called “pro-British” figures, and staff members of Taiwanese institutions based in Hong Kong.
Given Teresa Teng’s unique status, it was naturally understandable that she requested her contact with the Xinhua branch office be kept confidential from the outside world. After deliberation, the branch office leadership decided that I, along with Han Li, the head of the Culture and Sports Department, and Peng Yanyan—the three of us—would be responsible for maintaining contact with Teresa Teng.
At the time, I was a member of the Standing Committee of the CPC Hong Kong and Macao Working Committee and Deputy Secretary-General of the Xinhua News Agency’s Hong Kong Bureau; the work of the Culture and Sports Department fell under my purview. However, I did not typically participate in the department’s day-to-day interactions with the outside world. The decision to assign this responsibility to me was intended to convey a sense of solemnity.
My first meeting with Teresa Teng took place at the Asia Hotel in Happy Valley. This hotel, in which Xinhua News Agency held a stake, had two floors reserved exclusively for special guests. At 7:00 p.m. that evening, Teresa Teng arrived as scheduled. With her bright eyes and pearly white teeth, she was radiant and far more beautiful than she appeared in photographs. She wore no makeup and was dressed casually. Accompanying her was a Ms. Mai with a short, boyish haircut. I was told she worked in the film industry and had directed a movie about twin sisters.

A week later, Teresa Teng hosted a dinner in return at the Qilin Ge Restaurant on Liyuan Avenue. The restaurant wasn’t very crowded, and the atmosphere was quiet and serene. This time, Teresa Teng and Miss Mai had come directly from a gym; she looked refreshed and radiant, with a healthy glow and a vibrant, youthful energy.
From then on, we became friends. Every so often, she would invite us over for tea. However, Miss Mai didn’t make many appearances later on—perhaps she wasn’t interested in these small gatherings, or perhaps Teresa Teng didn’t want her to know too much about what we were talking about.
Planning a performance tour in mainland China
While I was dating Teresa Teng, I noticed that she never shied away from talking about her humble family background. She said her father was a veteran, and life was quite difficult for them when they first arrived in Taiwan. As a child, she cut grass and grew vegetables; she wore patched clothes, and after school, she would help out at her mother’s small restaurant.
She also makes no secret of her longing for the mainland. She enjoys reading *China Travel*, published in Hong Kong, and has purchased a set of large-format picture books titled *Magnificent China*. “Our motherland is so vast,” she said, “and there are so many famous rivers and great landscapes. Just looking at those photos is enough to make one feel enchanted.”
After that conversation, inviting her to perform in mainland China became a topic of our discussion.
Unexpectedly, she seemed very excited about performing in mainland China. She and Peng Yanyan met privately to draw up a “performance plan.” She made it clear that she didn’t want to just attend a single gala and sing a few songs; instead, she wanted to hold a solo concert. Peng Yanyan mapped out the following itinerary for her: Beijing as the first stop, Shanghai as the second, Xi’an as the third, and Guangzhou as the fourth. Peng Yanyan said, “This way, we’ll cover the north, south, east, and west.” Teresa Teng was delighted to hear this and noted that a great deal of preparation would be required.
The so-called preparations also included some technical issues. At that time, mainland singers rarely held solo concerts. Concerts by singers from Hong Kong and Taiwan, on the other hand, required elaborate stages, dazzling lighting, high-quality musical accompaniment, and top-notch sound systems—all of which were unavailable on the mainland at the time. Teresa Teng said she would take charge of planning all of this.
However, based on our observations, she is actually quite lonely in Hong Kong. She rarely attends entertainment industry events, seldom appears in the media, doesn’t have her own company, and doesn’t even have an agent. Even if a company were willing to organize things for her, it would be impossible to keep it confidential beforehand, and it would likely become the focus of media attention once again. As a result, her preparations have never materialized.
In the end, this “performance plan” was put on hold and never came to fruition.
Teresa Teng’s performance plans had been delayed. So we asked her if she’d be willing to take a trip to mainland China. She asked how she could enter the mainland. We suggested she use an alias, cross the border with a “Return-to-Hometown Permit” issued by China Travel Service, and have Peng Yanyan accompany her the entire way. Terry Teng perked up again and began discussing the “travel plans” with Peng Yanyan. She suggested that winter would be the best time for the trip, as she wanted to see snow. She was eager to climb the Great Wall amid a blizzard and take in the scenery beyond the Great Wall.
However, her rather poetic plan ultimately failed to come to fruition.
I want to settle down in Suzhou
After getting to know Teresa Teng for some time, the Xinhua News Agency branch decided to have Deputy Director Qiao Zonghuai host a formal dinner for her at a hotel in Stanley. The property had originally been the residence of Chen Qingsong, the owner of the Jianing Group; after Jianing went bankrupt, Xinhua News Agency purchased it and converted it into a hotel.
Jin Yong later said that he had also come to take a look, and that if Xinhua News Agency didn’t buy it, he might have bought it himself.

Terry Tang, along with Leslie Cheung, Brigitte Lin, and Alan Lam, among others

A few days later, Teresa Teng invited us to dinner and suddenly brought up the topic of buying a house. She said that Xinhua News Agency had many connections in various circles and asked if we could help her find a home.
At Teresa Teng’s request, we found her an apartment in Deep Water Bay through a friend—the current No. 18 Kam Mei Road in Stanley—and she said she was very satisfied with it. After purchasing the house in Stanley, she invited us to dinner. As we were talking, she suddenly said, “Living in Taiwan is a hassle, and living in Hong Kong is a hassle too. I want to buy a house on the mainland so I can go stay there when things get too stressful. Could you help me with that?”
That was even more surprising! She then added, “Of all the cities in China, Suzhou is my favorite, and I’d really like to buy a house there.” When she heard from Peng Yanyan that I had worked in Jiangsu for a long time, she asked me to help her. At the time, I thought she was just saying it offhand, so I gave a noncommittal response.
Unexpectedly, after some time had passed, she suddenly called to ask if there was any news about buying a house in Suzhou. That put me in a difficult position.
At the time, I was just about to return to Jiangsu for a vacation, so I took the opportunity to visit Suzhou. Director Zhu of the city’s General Administration of Government Affairs showed me a property—a two-story house with a garden. The yard was large, but the house was very dilapidated and nearly in a state of disrepair. Director Zhu said that after purchasing it, we could redesign and rebuild it; the seller was asking 60,000 yuan. I drew a rough sketch and took it back to Hong Kong.
Terry Teng was initially skeptical that a 60,000 yuan apartment could be purchased in the First District, and then asked if she should wire the money right away. I quickly replied that she would have to decide after seeing the place in person in Suzhou, and that there might be some paperwork to take care of, so there was no need to rush.

Old photos of Teresa Teng and Rosamund Kwan (first from the right)

In the spring of 1988, a delegation from Suzhou traveled to Hong Kong to host a food exhibition on the fourth floor of the Yuhua Department Store. I asked Peng Yanyan to give Teresa Teng a call and ask if she’d like to stop by. Teresa Teng agreed right away.
The next day, we accompanied her to Yuhua, where a server brought out several plates of Suzhou pastries. Teresa Teng seemed very happy and ate quite a lot. When we left, Mr. Yu, the owner of Yuhua, gave each of us one jin of tea and a portion of pastries. I gave my portion to Teresa Teng, and she accepted it without hesitation. As we walked toward the elevator, she suddenly turned around and went back to shake hands with the pastry chefs to thank them. I noticed this small gesture, which demonstrated Teresa Teng’s politeness and refinement, as well as her respect for ordinary working people.
That evening, Teresa Teng called to say she wanted to treat her guests from Suzhou to a meal and asked me to set a time for her. Since I was busy with other work, I asked Peng Yanyan to make the arrangements on my behalf. Terry Teng hosted the dinner at Tianxiang Lou, a restaurant known for its high prices. She was very warm and hospitable toward her guests and announced, “I’m planning to buy a house in Suzhou. I want to live there in the future—just imagine how wonderful it would be to drink Longjing tea and eat your pastries every day!”
The reform and opening-up in mainland China brought new hope to Teresa Teng. She wove countless dreams for herself, almost haphazardly: standing on the Great Wall, resting in a water town, gazing up at the full moon over her hometown, listening to the heavenly sounds of the West—and, of course, above all, reclaiming her former glory and achieving new heights amid the applause of hundreds of millions of fans. Her dreams were not mere fantasies; they may well have been the most sensible choices at the time. Yet, because an invisible net loomed over her, she was never able to break free.
The Legend of the Lifting of the Ban on Teresa Teng's Songs
Later, for various reasons, our contact with Teresa Teng gradually became less frequent. But her lovely image has lingered in my mind ever since.
I remember that Teresa Teng’s songs first reached the mainland toward the end of the Cultural Revolution. At that time, most households didn’t have tape recorders and weren’t equipped to play music tapes. Teresa Teng’s songs were spread by word of mouth and gained popularity very quickly—especially songs like “Alishan,” which many people could hum. Once the authorities discovered this, they immediately issued an order banning their dissemination. At the time, Teresa Teng’s songs were labeled “obscene songs” and “decadent music”; it was also claimed that she had participated in the Kuomintang’s “entertainment for the troops” activities and was therefore anti-Communist. Even after the “Gang of Four” was overthrown, this ban remained in effect.

By 1984, the situation had changed. People traveling from the mainland to Hong Kong were scrambling to buy Teresa Teng’s cassette tapes, indicating that customs restrictions had been lifted. As a result, Teresa Teng’s songs spread across the mainland like wildfire in the spring breeze.
This is merely a matter involving a pop star, but people seem to have ascribed deeper meaning to it, viewing it as a symbol of a more open and culturally tolerant society on the mainland. As a result, it has given rise to all sorts of rumors in Hong Kong.
One legend goes that a middle school student wrote directly to Deng Xiaoping, asking why Teresa Teng’s songs were banned. Comrade Xiaoping wrote a single line in the margin of the letter: “I also like listening to Teresa Teng’s songs.” Another legend goes that when Deng Xiaoping met with Hong Kong Legislative Council member Deng Lianru, he said, “There’s a Deng Lianru in Hong Kong and a Teresa Teng in Taiwan—we’re all from the same family.” These legends cannot be verified, but they certainly contain some embellishments.
Although these various rumors cannot be verified, the “lifting of the ban” is an indisputable fact.
An Everlasting Regret
In 1993, I was surprised to see her photo in a newspaper. In just a few short years, she had become bloated and aged, looking completely unrecognizable. After seeing that photo, I concluded she would never appear on stage in mainland China again, because she was a woman with a strong sense of self-respect.
On May 28, 1995, Teresa Teng completed her final journey and was laid to rest at Jinbaoshan Cemetery in Taiwan.