Duong Huong - The Zenith

“I remember.”

“Do you remember his love affair with Ho Ch’in?”

“Of course I do.”

“Very good, thus do you remember that Ho Ch’in had plotted to kill the crown prince, Fu Ching, how many times?”

“Twice, if I am not mistaken.”

“Right, twice. And if Minister Liu had not insisted, the crown prince would have become dust. And still Ho Ch’in was favored. His personal wealth was more than the state treasury. This demonstrates that Ch’ien Lung’s adoration of Ho Ch’in had more to it than the life of the crown prince and the national interest. And definitely Ch’ien Lung was not a weakling or a frivolous dreamer. What, then, prompted him to behave like that, if not satisfaction of his sexual appetite? If not to caress until satiety a body that contained the soul of ruler? As a bisexual, Ch’ien Lung was passionate for both man and woman but I believe that in reality his homosexual proclivity was stronger and the more dominant. Because in those days, homosexuals were despised and teased, that is why he built a series of pavilions for them in the inner part of the palace to hide them from the people. If the court had released his harem to the countryside, for sure two-thirds of them would still have been virgins. There: open your eyes to see the game as played by real rulers. Not just Ch’ien Lung; rulers of every dynasty were the same.”

“I know. And you are sure that successors should follow this tradition?”

“You rank me too low; to be accurate, you look at me with irreverent eyes. That same irreverence of the ancient clans of the hundred Viet peoples in southern China. You need to understand that I am not a successor but a founder. I laugh at how the old kings and lords used women at such cost but with such little effect. I don’t need to build red chambers and towers. I don’t need to check expenses for red bodices and trousers. If you drive them into a corner, the female cats will scratch each other and disturb my sound sleep. My home is mobile. A modest vessel on dry land is a thousand times more convenient that an extravagant oceangoing sailboat even though it can visit the six continents. The land is vast; the mountains and rivers grand; I select women from wherever I happen to be. Not twenty-year-old mountain girls as you did, but all youngsters ages twelve to sixteen. The younger they are, the fresher their life-giving sap. I regain my youth and nourish my libido thanks to those growing girls.”

“Of course,” the president says, smiling and puckering his lips, “I know your famous saying: ‘I wash my sex organs inside them.’”

“What are sex organs? Indeed, you really are one who takes your words from those with big noses and blue eyes. I am only a person from Hunan. I like to speak like local farmers: ‘I wash my cock in the alleyways of young girls so they can stimulate my energy.’ There, do you hear it clearly?”

He starts to laugh after these words, in a playful and provocative manner, his tiny blinking eyes shooting out devilish sparks. The president sees clearly his two rows of very even and yellow teeth. He remains silent, not answering. A moment passes. Then Chairman Man clears his throat and says:

“After I pop their cherries, I return these ‘female comrades’ back to the local cadres to manage. They must give them a raise, enroll them in units or the Party; if unemployed, find them manufacturing jobs. If they want to go to school, then institutions will open their doors. If some are weak and die, it is but the falling of a peach or two from the peach trees of Yunnan. A lucky one gets my love and is honored with carrying my seed. She will be well cared for and her child will be raised in secret and sent to the child-care center of the Party’s central leadership. Don’t you see my capacity for initiative? Don’t you see that I am better than Ch’ien Lung in enjoying games?”

He again laughs robustly.

The president quietly looks at the apparition opposite him. The folds of flesh overflowing the high collar of his cadre-style shirt are also lined like lizard skin, reminding one of a pile of soggy and mildewed dough. His full chest stretches his shirt. But from his stomach area down only a blanket of fog appears. When the president was young, he had heard people say that ghosts never have legs. They glide over the grass and can be seen only from the knees up. Now he knows it is true. The strange thing though is that this king of the north is still alive, arranging the executions of his subordinates; so why does he appear to the president as a ghost in his dreams, whether at three in the morning or in the afternoon? His laughter creates sounds that are both sharp and flat. If one could put a color to the sound it would be black steel mixed with brass rust. It’s not obvious why Chairman Man’s laughter makes him sad while his arrogance no longer makes him angry. At first, he feels an unrelated sadness, an odd melancholy as when you read a romantic story. Chairman Man seems surprised to see him quiet. He lowers his voice:

“Why? Are you nostalgic for the past or do you regret things you ought to have done?”

“No. Regrets are useless.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“I think yin and yang are unbound. You — a nemesis — bother to come visit as an honored guest. But all the advice given out in life is worthless because individuals are different.”

“Right. Sheep graze grass and vultures devour corpses. But anyone governing a large kingdom with prowess or just caring for a small island must study the art of governing. Even Africans know how to retain sovereign power. You are a thousand times more intelligent than they: why you let subordinates push you to this extremity is something I would like to know.”

“You have nothing else to do down in this sad and gloomy country? Have all the relatives of those you harmed up on Chinese soil really lost their smarts or come down with dementia? You think they will always remain silent in the presence of millions of innocent corpses?”

“Believe it or not. Is it so important? The game is over. The chess pieces are back in their coffins. Now I am looking for new lands. You are an object that excites me. All excitement is linked to curiosity. But for thousands of years China and Vietnam have been enemy siblings. You and I, too.”

“I find you pretty honest.”

“Yin and yang take different paths; the game of being diplomatic — no longer useful.”

“If you already confirm our kinship of brotherly enemies, why do you come?”

“You ask a stupid question. I come because of that kinship.”

“To give your power an official stamp; to prove that as head of state you are outstanding; to say that during all your life you were full and satisfied in every way and your personhood was always on a pedestal looking down on the interests of your country. That is why you never hold your hands back from any kind of destruction. That is also why you became the ‘Great Helmsman.’ Because your people are so used to worshipping great ones who stand on arches of triumph built from human bones. Given that you want to stand on a high pedestal, the higher the pile of human bones, the more beautiful the result. And, finally: Is this the best way to educate those who want to be kings?”

“In reality, it is. Now, you are extremely intelligent. I came here to advise you or to humiliate you — however you want to see it! Because always, words just whore; a gentleman from the southern capital or from the northern one just jumps into bed. I am here to teach you that acting the role of a king is day and night different from the skills displayed by any old actor. You should study acting or else retire to the calm life of ordinary people ‘under a thatch roof; two shining hearts.’ To be king, such work demands different behavior. Rulers can never forget two basic rules. The first thing is to be able to release your semen perfectly. This is hygienic for the body and must be done to keep the brain clear and the blood flowing. The second thing is to know how to use the blood of others in cleaning the steps to the throne. Because blood is the only liquid that can water the garden where the fruit of power and glory grows. Do you see any tree that is not watered producing leaves and fruit? These are the two golden rules by which to nourish the mind and body and to preserve the throne. Kings and mandarins in years past all knew how to apply these two principles. And you can’t. Worse: you went against them. This was the biggest mistake in your life. This fault not only destroyed your life’s work but also pushed you into a life of imprisonment. Imprisonment on two fronts: your body suffering from clotted blood and your mind in agony because you are in the state of being used. Your subordinates used the Kwangchou rest house as a place to tie down your legs. If I am not mistaken, you were settled in there about six, seven months, started to get used to the terrain, to like the food there, to love looking at pretty local girls. So why did they send you here?”