Sheng Keyi - Death Fugue

‘Please have a seat Mr Yuan. I am very sorry that I haven’t had time to meet you until today.’

A man came out from a gap in the wall, his bald head shining. He pushed forward a Chinese-style armchair, then stood to one side, his body stiff and his hands folded at his waist.

‘Who are you? Why did you bring me here?’ Mengliu was not willing to sit. He looked around suspiciously.

The robot laughed and said, ‘Mr Yuan, your tone is a little unfriendly. You should feel honoured to come to our beautiful Swan Valley. You are timid and weak, and you lack ideals. But you also lack spiritual support. You need a resuscitation, so we can change your shortcomings and flaws. You will become a poet with impeccable character.’

‘If I am good or bad, what is that to you? I’m just an ordinary man, and of no value to you.’ Mengliu felt that the machine spoke with a style that was vaguely familiar.

‘Ha ha ha ha. Put aside your old ways of thinking,’ the robot continued, laughing. ‘If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I will answer.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I am Ah Lian Qiu, the spiritual leader of Swan Valley.’

‘You are a woman?’

‘Sorry?’

‘A woman?!’

‘It does not matter.’

Mengliu was silent for a moment, then asked, ‘Why is sexual intercourse not allowed in Swan Valley?’

‘A single person can colour ten million years of history. That is to say, one good, great, perfect person is more beneficial than countless handicapped people, and those with lower IQs. Swan Valley strictly regulates fertility according to scientific principles. It guarantees a quality population, and that we will not produce useless citizens. So…’

‘So you seized upon excellent food, laid claim to blue skies, and captured perfection in humans…’

‘That is blunt, and rather unfriendly.’

‘You strangle human nature…’

‘It is logical to be inhumane. What use is humanity? Humane feeling is just a vat of paint. It will make a mess of everything. I am sure you can see how affluent Swan Valley is, how orderly. The people’s intelligence, their knowledge and spirit as well as their attitude toward life, are all to be commended. There is no desire, no greed, no selfishness or distraction, only good deeds. Swan Valley will be the most ideal place on earth.’

‘Yes. There is no resistance, only compliance. There is no self, only manipulation. People have been turned into robots. It is no different from castration.’

‘In Swan Valley, where everyone has ample food and clothing, how could there be any unhappiness? Who would object to such a comfortable, and agreeable life?’ When the robot had said this, it laughed wildly several times, as if it had revelled in this pleasure for a thousand years.

‘Then what do you want to do with me?’

‘To save you. To let you start over again as a poet.’

‘I am not a poet, and I don’t need saving. Please, let me go home.’

‘As far as I know, you are a good poet, but you are not the least bit patriotic.’

‘Nonsense. You would have no way of knowing what my feelings for my country are.’

‘Mr Yuan, if you were patriotic, why didn’t you join the protests all those years ago?’

‘I don’t know what you mean. I have my own way of expressing my feelings for my motherland. Moreover, things were not the way you think they were. What everyone knows is just their view…’

‘You are wrong. One has a clearer perspective as an observer.

‘You are like a frog in a well.’

‘I’m sorry. I meant to praise you. You keep away from messy complications. You are wise.’

‘I do not need to talk to you about such things. You’ve violated my personal liberties.’

‘I wonder. You live like farmers in a village with no church, and yet you talk to me of individual rights? Maybe you are thinking of that girl, Suitang? Don’t worry, we can invite her here, and hope that your genes match hers. Sometimes a prodigy…’

‘No, I’ve got no relationship with her,’ Mengliu said, raising his voice. ‘I don’t want to get married, and I certainly don’t want to father a prodigy.’

‘Ha ha. Mr Yuan, don’t be so quick to reject the idea. You will come to love Swan Valley, and you will make a comfortable life here.’

‘Frankly, I do not feel your goodness. You deprive others of freedom as a means of entertainment.’

‘You are so stubborn. But you will come to understand.’

‘I just want to go home.’

‘We are prepared to make you a cultural officer, and you still want to go back? You’d rather be a zombie, entangled in self-condemnation and guilt?’

Mengliu was secretly surprised. The robot seemed to have completely mastered both his past and his hidden inner world. Yes, he admitted to himself, he did live in a spiritual prison, and he knew beyond a doubt that he had no chance of being set free. He still remembered the day very clearly. Shunyu’s father had brought him the devastating news. The red rosebud appeared. He did not board the train and leave. He had gone in search of Qizi. If she was alive, he wanted to find her, and if she was dead, he wanted to find her body. There was no one at the Wisdom Bureau. The guard’s eyes were red. The horrors he had witnessed that night reverberated in his trembling words. He described the sounds of gunfire, the tanks, the fires, and the hand-to-hand combat, the wounded and the dead, the ambulances, and the chaotic spectacle, like something out of a movie. He bade farewell to the guard, then ran to other places where she might be found, but discovered nothing. The streets were full of people in uniform, patrols searching and cross-examining people. He went to Liuli Street and found it empty. The walls of the Catholic Church were full of bullet holes. The mouth of the injured street had been stopped up — the birds didn’t sing, nor was there a sound from the empty darkness of the broken windows. Beiping Street was even worse. The pavement had collapsed under the weight of the tanks, the surface of the road had been destroyed, stone structures and traffic signs ground into powder. Smoke-charred vehicles stood abandoned along the road. Some of the trees beside the road had been uprooted, and bullet holes filled the walls of the buildings on both sides. The tree trunks were covered in blood. He wanted to go along Beiping Street to Round Square, but was stopped by a man in uniform. He remained resolute, and got a blow from his gun butt as a result. He created an uproar. He wanted them to arrest him. Maybe if they did, it would be like the previous time, when he was locked up with Qizi. He begged them to take him, but they just chased him away. He was unkempt, one foot bare and the other shuffling along in a slipper. They thought he was crazy. In a daze, he sat down on the road beside a motorbike, which had been crushed to a flat, paper-like form stuck to the ground. He looked at it like it was a piece of meat. He knew the odds were against Qizi.

When he returned he just sat in the West Wing waiting for someone to come and arrest him. No one came for him, because the old landlord had told the police that Mengliu never left the house, and stayed in all day every day sleeping. On the third day, he went to the Green Flower, but the bar had been closed and Shunyu’s father arrested on charges of harbouring and abetting wanted criminals. No one knew where he had been taken.

Nearly two years later Mengliu received a letter from him. It was his dying testimony.

Unfortunately, we have no way of discussing together the question of the lady-charming xun. I promise you, it has been passed down from generation to generation in our family for six-hundred years. The words on its base, ‘meng liu’, were inscribed by my own hand. ‘Meng’ means to miss someone, and ‘Liu’ was a girl’s name. I had hoped we would be able to meet again…