Mo Yan - Sandalwood Death

“This common woman thanks the First Lady for her grace.”

The First Lady exhaled loudly.

“Go,” she said. “The Magistrate is in the document room.”

Meiniang got to her feet, picked up the basket of dog meat and millet spirits she’d brought with her, and started to walk off. But the First Lady called her to a halt. With her dark eyes focused on the window, not on Meiniang, she said:

“He’s getting on in years, while you are young…”

The First Lady’s hint was not lost on Sun Meiniang. Her face was burning, and she did not know what to say to that. The First Lady walked out of the Western Parlor and headed to the rear of the compound. A welter of emotions fought for primacy in her mind—loathing, love, the pride of winning, and the humiliation of losing.

The Magistrate’s appetite gradually returned under Meiniang’s ministrations, and he grew stronger each day. Clouds of melancholy creased his brow as he read the documents that had piled up during his illness.

“Meiniang,” he said as he stroked her nicely rounded backside, “dear Meiniang, if I refuse to arrest your dieh, Excellency Yuan will arrest me.”

Meiniang rolled over and sat up.

“Magistrate, my dieh had good reason to attack the German. Yet they responded by killing my stepmother and siblings, and what’s more, they slaughtered twenty-four innocent civilians. Isn’t that enough? Why do they want my dieh arrested? Is this what people call justice?”

With a bitter smile, the Magistrate said:

“What does a woman know about such things?”

Meiniang grabbed his beard and said coquettishly:

“I may not know much about such things, but I know that my dieh is guilty of nothing.”

The Magistrate sighed.

“I never said he was. But I cannot disobey an order from my superior.”

“Be a good man and let him off the hook,” Meiniang said as she moved seductively on his lap. “Is a County Magistrate powerless to protect an innocent member of the community?”

“How can I make you understand, my precious?”

Meiniang wrapped her arms around his neck and began rubbing her silken body against him enticingly.

“Even by taking care of you the way I do, can I still not save my dieh?”

“Enough,” the Magistrate said, “that is enough. A carriage cannot reach the mountain without a road, but a boat can sail even against the wind. Qingming is nearly here, Meiniang, and, as in the past, I am going to have a set of swings put up in the parade ground for your enjoyment. I will also plant peach trees as a gift to the people. I am doing these things this year, Meiniang, because I cannot say where I will be next year.”

“By this time next year, you will have been promoted to Prefect, no, even higher!”

When he learned that Sun Bing had led an attack on the railroad shed on Qingming, the County Magistrate suffered a momentary lapse in his ability to function. He threw down the tool he was using to plant a peach tree and, without a word to anyone, crawled into his palanquin. He did not need to be told that his official career was about to end.

Back at the yamen, he summoned his clerks and secretaries.

“You must all know that today has signaled the end of this Magistrate’s official career,” he told them. “You are welcome to continue in your present positions and await the appointment of my replacement. If, however, you prefer to leave, I advise you to do so without delay.”

They exchanged looks, but said nothing.

With a bitter laugh, the Magistrate turned and went into his document room, slamming the door behind him.

The loud noise stunned them all. Deflated, they were at a loss for what to do. The revenue clerk went up to the window and said, “There is a popular adage, Laoye, that goes, ‘Confront soldiers with generals, and dam water with earth.’ What that means in essence is that heaven never seals off all the exits. We urge you to take a broad view.” His plea was met with silence from inside.

So he whispered to Chunsheng:

“Hurry out to the rear compound and tell the First Lady what has happened. Be quick, before something terrible happens.”

Meanwhile, the Magistrate had taken off his official garb and dropped it on the floor. Then he took off his hat and threw it into the corner.

“Happy is the man relieved of his duties,” he said to himself, “and lacking a head means no more worries. Your Imperial Majesty, Empress Dowager, I am unable to carry out my vow of fealty; Excellency Yuan, Excellency Fan, Excellency Cao, I am unable to complete the duties entrusted to me; dear wife, I am unable to fulfill my conjugal responsibilities; my dearest Meiniang, I am unable to stay with you. Sun Bing, you no-account son of a bitch, I have done well by you.”

The County Magistrate stood on a stool, untied the satin sash around his waist, and looped it over a crossbeam. Then he made a noose and inserted his head, carefully placing his beard outside the noose so that it fell neatly across his chest. He was able to see bits of the hazy sky and fine threads of rainwater through a hole poked in the paper covering of the latticed window, put there by a passing sparrow; he also saw his chief assistant, his clerks, his personal attendant, and his constables, all standing in the rain, as well as a pair of swallows that had made their nest under the eaves. Amid the hiss of falling rain and the twitter of swallows, the rich smell of life caressed his face. A light spring chill raised gooseflesh on his arms, in contrast to the sentimental longing for Sun Meiniang’s warm body that filled him up, body and soul. Every cell in his body thirsted for her. Woman, ah, woman, you are a miracle, a true wonder. I know that the destruction of my future occurred on your body, and yet I am still madly in love with you… The County Magistrate knew that if he let his thoughts go on like that, his courage to say good-bye to the world would slip away. So he clenched his teeth and kicked the stool out from under him. Vaguely he heard a scream, a woman’s voice. Was his wife coming to him? Or could it be Meiniang? Regret was already setting in, and he strained to reach up and free himself. But his arms were useless…

The County Magistrate set out in his four-man palanquin for Masang Township. In order to project a commanding aura, he took twenty county troopers—ten archers and ten musketeers—along with him. Two hundred forty German soldiers were going through their paces when the procession passed the Tongde Academy parade ground. Outfitted in colorful military attire, the tall, muscular soldiers displayed an impressive battle formation, rocking the area with their cadenced shouts. The Magistrate was shocked by what he saw, but did not show it. More than the tight formation and the Mauser weapons the soldiers carried, what truly impressed him was the row of twelve Krupp cannons crouching on the edge of the parade ground. Looking like enormous tortoises with bright shells and short, thick necks raised skyward, they rested on iron wheels that sat heavily on the ground. When Yuan Shikai had assumed office as Governor of Shandong, the County Magistrate and dozens of other County Magistrates had traveled to Jinan to observe a new force of five thousand soldiers that Yuan had brought from Jinan; it was an eye-opening experience for men who believed that the country now had an army that could stand up to the Great Powers. But compared to the German troops on the parade ground, it was a second-rate military force, even after receiving German weapons and training by German officers, who would not likely put their most powerful weapons in the hands of people whose country they had invaded. Excellency Yuan, what a fool you are.