Anchee Min - Becoming Madame Mao

The time when Zi-zhen leaves Yenan is the time Lan Ping arrives. In the recorded history it is a windy afternoon. Cold and chilly. Zi-zhen is with her small daughter. She looks exhausted and is full of resentment. She talks to a fellow traveler about her life with Mao. Talks about the time when she was eighteen and had a pair of eyes described as jewels. I met him on the mountain of Yongxin, at a Communist gathering. After days of meetings we chatted, had meals together. Liquors and roasted chickens. He asked me to share his tea cup. Zi-zhen remembers vividly the way Mao made an announcement to his friends: "I am in love." She remembers his dream to build an army of his own. Now he has his army, now she has lost her health and gayness. She is twenty-eight years old and is sick and straw-thin. She sits on a stool in a cheap hotel and is frozen with her thoughts.

The goat-beard man can't help but admire the actress.

Although I have found Chairman Mao's lecture enlightening, I have difficulty comprehending certain points, she says. Is there any way I can ask the Chairman questions in person?

Kang Sheng has never met a girl like her. Sweet but aggressive. He finds her a good partner already. So he says, Of course, the Chairman is a teacher who likes students who challenge themselves. But because of his status, it is not easy to arrange a visit with him. His place is heavily guarded. Kang Sheng pauses, looks at the girl and frowns. Let me see what I can do.

After three days Kang Sheng sends a message to the girl that a private meeting with Mao is scheduled.

As if getting a stage call, Miss Lan Ping comes to the curtain. In the mirror she checks herself for the last time. She has put nothing on her face. In fact she has washed her face twice. She has decided to show her down-to-earthness, her reliability. She is in her uniform, her full costume. Her waist is tightened by a belt.

She marches to his cave. The guard with the caterpillar scar between his eyebrows blocks her. She announces her name. The guard looks her up and down suspiciously. The Chairman has invited me. Wait here, the guard says and goes inside the cave. A few minutes later he comes back. The Chairman is expecting you.

Sit. He grabs a chair for her. Tea?

She sits down and looks around. Sorry to bother you, Chairman. I understand you are a busy man. I… She stops as if too shy to go on.

It's my job to listen to what people have to say, he says, smiling. Sometimes a little bit of relaxation makes me work more effectively.

She smiles, finds herself relaxed.

He clears his desk and comes to sit opposite her.

She sips her tea and looks at him. She knows what her eyes can do to a man. She had been told by Yu Qiwei, Tang Nah and Zhang Min. She bathes him with her sunshine.

He breaks the silence. I have heard from Comrade Kang Sheng that you have difficulty comprehending points in my lecture.

Yes, she answers, again sorry to bother you.

My pleasure. He gets up and adds hot water to her cup. As Confucius has said, one ought to take delight in teaching. My door opens to you. Any time when you have questions, just come.

There is formality as they play the teacher and student. Then he asks about her story. Who she is and where she is from. She enjoys the telling. The lines she has rehearsed well. Once in a while she pauses, observes him. He is attentive. She continues the story, adding, changing and skipping certain details. When she mentions the immensity of Shanghai he joins in.

I was there in 1923. It was for the Party's convention, he says, playing with his pencil and drawing circles on a telegram. Our Party only had a handful of members at that time and we were constantly tailed by Chiang Kai-shek's agents.

Where did you stay? she asks curiously.

District of Luwan by Cima Road.

The street that has red-brick black-arch-door houses?

That's right.

The tea-eggs are excellent on that street.

Well, I was too poor to afford a taste.

Which province did you represent at the convention?

Hunan.

Did you have side jobs besides working for the Party?

I was a laundryman at Fu-xing's.

A laundryman? she laughs. How interesting!

The difficult part of my job was not washing but delivery, he adds, as most of my earnings from washing had to be spent on tram tickets, which were so expensive.

Why didn't you stay in Shanghai?

Let's put it this way. I had a hard time swimming in a bathtub.

She gets up to leave. It is dinner time.

Please, stay for dinner.

I am afraid I've been bothering you too much.

Stay. The voice comes from behind as she moves toward the door. Please honor my invitation.

The guards set up the table. Four dishes. A plate of stir-fried pork with soy sauce, a plate of radishes, a plate of greens and a plate of spicy tofu. She wolfs the food down, apologizing for her manners. Life in Yenan is much harder than Shanghai, isn't it? he says. Like a father, he watches her eat. She nods, continues stuffing her mouth.

He picks up a piece of meat and drops it into her bowl. He then comments, I consider the food delicious in comparison to what we ate during the Long March. I have eaten tree bark, grass and rats.

She stops eating and asks to be told more of what it was like to go through the exile.

It was after Tatu, he begins. Our army turned north. In the snow mountains we found comparative safety, yet the prodigious heights weakened everyone. Many perished and pack animals and supplies were abandoned. We were in swampy regions of the grasslands. It was a picture of horror. Near Tibet, my men had been attacked and now we were passing again through a region of hostile tribes. No food was available. Our kitchen heads dug up what seemed to be turnips, which later proved to be poisonous. The water made us ill. The winds buffeted us and hailstorms were followed by snow. Ropes were laid down to guide us across the marshlands, but the ropes vanished in the quicksand. We lost our few remaining pack animals.

She notices that he tries to make light of his words but cannot do so.

He takes a deep breath and continues. A small column was seen walking across a sea of thick foggy grasses, and then… the whole column disappeared.

She stares at him.

When the guard lights the second candle she gets up to say goodbye. It might sound funny to you but I thought you would be arrogant, she says, walking out of his door.

What reason do I have to be arrogant? I am Mao Tse-tung not Chiang Kai-shek.

She nods, laughing, and says she must get going.

The path is not smooth and it is moonless tonight. Little Dragon! Walk Comrade Lan Ping home, will you?

It is the third time they meet privately. The stars look like voyeurs' eyes opening and closing. Mao Tse-tung and Lan Ping stand in the descending darkness, shoulder to shoulder. The day has begun to cool. Weeds bend lazily over the riverbank. The reflection of the moon trembles in the water.

I was born in the village of Shao Shan in 1893, Mao says. He describes the landscape of his hometown. It is a land of hibiscus, orchards, serfs and rice fields. My father was a poor peasant. While young he joined the warlords' army because of heavy debts. He was a soldier for many years. Later on he returned to the village and managed to buy back his land. He saved carefully and operated a small trading business. He was petty. He sent me to a local primary school when I was eight but he wanted me to work on the farm in the early morning and at night. My father hated to see me idle. He often yelled, "Make use of yourself!" I can still hear his voice today. He was a hot-tempered man and frequently beat both me and my brothers.

It is at this point the girl inserts her comments. She describes her own father. Says she understands perfectly how he must have felt as a young boy terrified by his father. She looks up at him in tears.