swept over him. Not a mosquito anywhere. He could not explain the mystery, though not for lack of trying. But then his thoughts were interrupted by a voice in the air: “Damned idiots! The Emperor’s gone, so stop wasting your time fanning the air above this poor pedant!” As the sound of the voice faded way, the swarm of mosquitoes regrouped overhead, united in their buzzing. The stifling heat returned with a vengeance, and the teacher jumped to his feet, a silent prayer on his lips: Save me, gods and spirits, and forgive me!
“That’s a sad excuse for a story,” Gao Ma complained. “A pack of lies to protect the interests of the feudal class. They assume for themselves the role of genius and superman to keep the masses under their thumbs.”
“You can recite your lessons or you can accept the truth. The frogs in Zhang Family Bay still don t croak. What do you say to that?”
Grandpa Three picked up where he had left off.
The teacher had known that Zhang Nine-five was not going to grow up to be a flash-in-the-pan scholar, but the true Son of Heaven. Just think, the Son of Heaven! He with the golden mouth and teeth of jade! The teacher rejoiced inwardly. Just think, you, the Emperor’s mentor, a great man in his own right! From that point on, not only did the teacher waive Zhang Nine-fives tuition, he even assumed personal responsibility for mother and sons living expenses, down to the last copper. Needless to say, Nine-five and his mother were immensely grateful. Now, the teacher had a sixteen-year-old daughter at home, a girl of unsurpassed beauty and great literary potential. Struck with an inspiration, he sought out Nine-five’s mother. “Elder Sister-in-Law, may I be so bold as to discuss Nine-five’s marital situation with you? I have a humble daughter at home, and would like to propose that she look after your esteemed son.” A startled Madame Zhang nee Liu replied, “Dear Teacher, how can we, a lowly widow and fatherless child, aspire to kinship with you?” “Elder Sister-in-Law, you honor me. I shall bring my daughter over tomorrow, and we can hold the ceremony then.” Mother Zhang shed tears of gratitude, then went home and told Nine-five, who had already seen his teacher’s spectacularly beautiful daughter. He couldn’t agree fast enough. The very next day they were wed-a gifted scholar and a talented beauty. The romantic prospects were endless. I’ll leave it to you to imagine what went on that night, but from then on, Zhang Nine-five threw himself into his studies. Then one day he took his bride to burn incense at the City God Temple, where he spotted a writing brush and paper on the altar. Itching to put them to use, he picked up the brush and wrote: “City God, City God, hie thee to Luoyang. Leave this very night, return on the morrow.” Then, laying down the brush, he left the temple and returned home with his wife. That night his teacher dreamed he saw the City God carrying a bottle of Maotai spirits. (Come on, now, where would he get a bottle of Maotai? I’m just using that as an example for the story!) He also carried a meaty pig’s head. “Esteemed Minister,” he said, “I beg you to plead the case of this insignificant City God with the Emperor. Get him to retract the imperial edict commanding me to go to Luoyang tonight and return tomorrow night. Tell me, sir, how can I manage a trip of a thousand miles in a single day?” The teacher was jolted awake by this startling development. Ah, it was only a dream. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. But, after lighting the lamp, he walked into the next room, where he saw a bottle of Maotai spirits on the stove alongside a debristled pig’s head. He pinched his thigh and bit his finger. Both smarted. So he reached out to feel the pig’s head and shake the bottle of spirits. Both real. Figuring he was still dreaming, he woke his wife and told her to see if the spirits and pig’s head were real. “Husband,” she said, “since you knew we had barely enough rice to get us through tomorrow, what possessed you to buy these luxuries?” Unable to contain his delight, he told her everything, forgetting that the mysteries of heaven must not be divulged.
Once again, the gurgling sound of water rose from the well. ‘Time to irrigate the crops again, my boy,” Old Man Wang said. “The water’s back.”
“Finish your story, Grandpa Three,” Gao Ma pleaded. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Take it easy, my boy. Be patient. Never finish good food in one meal, or tell a good story in one sitting.”
“Do you really hate socialism that much?” the policeman asked.
“It’s not socialism I hate, it’s you. To you socialism is a mere signboard, but to me it’s a social formation- concrete, not abstract. It’s embodied in public ownership of the means of production and in a system of distribution. Unfortunately it’s also embodied in corrupt officials like you. Isn’t that right?” Gao Ma demanded.
The policeman, hardly less irate than he, pounded the table and said, “Gao Ma, I’m interrogating you as an officer of the court. This is no debating contest! We’re waiting for you to confess how you incited the masses to beat, smash, and loot, and how you joined them in this criminal activity. You were a soldier once, then a veteran. But you became a common criminal who resisted arrest and fled, only to ultimately fall into our grasp!”
“I already told you, you can shoot me or cut off my head or bury me alive, it doesnt matter to me. I hate corrupt officials like you who, under the guise of unfurling the flag of the Communist Party, destroy its reputation. I hate you all!”
It was after midnight. Farmers irrigating their crops under an even brighter, even clearer moon grew increasingly spectral. Lanterns faded and darkened under the luminous moonbeams.
Gao Ma handed a cigarette to Old Man Wang, who picked up the thread of his tale.
The teacher did what he never ever should have done: he revealed to his wife Zhang Nine-five’s imperial future. So many of the world’s great events have come a cropper because of women, who, like dogs, can eat butter but can’t keep it down. Just imagine the thoughts that ran through her head when she heard that her son-in-law was fated to become the Son of Heaven. Her daughter would be Empress, making her Empress Mother-a relationship with royalty that could never be broken: more riches and honors than she could ever fully appreciate, more silks and satins than she could ever possibly wear, and more delicacies and rich foods than she could ever eat. She lost touch with reality. But that’s another story.The next day the teacher went to the City God Temple, where he walked straight to the altar, picked up the slip of paper Zhang Nine-five had written, and, without a word to anyone, slipped it up his sleeve and took it home. “Did you write this, worthy son-in-law?” he confronted Zhang Nine-five. “Yes, I did,” Nine-five replied bashfully. “It’s at least five hundred miles from here to Luoyang,” the teacher said, “a round trip of a thousand li. How is he to travel that distance in a single day?” “I was just having some fun,” Nine-five protested. “Well, you’d better write another slip to spare him the trip,” the teacher said. So Nine-five picked up the brush and wrote on a torn slip of paper, “City God, City God, you need not go to Luoyang. Off to bed after a hearty meal, and stay in good health.” That night the City God returned to the teacher in a dream. “My heartfelt thanks for interceding on my behalf,” he said, “for which I want to give you this roast lamb and fine wine.” As before, when the teacher awoke and went into the next room, there on the stove awaited a roast lamb and a bottle of fine wine.
A meteor streaked earthward, dragging its fiery tail behind it. Old Man Wang continued the tale: Nine-five’s mother-in-law had a dispute with a neighbor that day, and in the heat of the argument forgot her husband’s admonition to keep this secret. “For your information,” she said, “my son-in-law is a future Son of Heaven, and after he mounts the Dragon Throne, I’ll have him lop off all your heads, one after the other.” Treating it as an idle threat, the neighbor said, “Everybody knows that scrawny monkey of a son-in-law doesn’t have a bone in his body worthy of an Emperor. Even if he did, with a black-hearted, ham-handed mother-in-law like you, Old Man Heaven would replace those bones!” A passing spirit, overhearing the angry comment, reported it to the Jade Emperor, who was so incensed he ordered Heavenly Prince Li and his son Nuozha to go down and replace Zhang Nine-five’s bones. That afternoon Heavenly Prince Li and his son arrived at the City God Temple, where they were feted with a banquet, at which Heavenly Prince Li had a bit too much to drink and let slip their reason for coming. Recalling with gratitude Zhang Nine-five’s retraction of the imperial edict, the City God quickly appeared in a dream to the teacher, saying, “Dear teacher, your wife repeated something that angered the Jade Emperor, who sent Heavenly Prince Li and his son to remove your worthy son-in-law’s imperial bones and replace them with turtle bones during the third watch tonight. Tell your worthy son-in-law that he must grit his teeth and bear up under any pain, no matter how great, and not to scream under any circumstances. That way he retains his golden mouth and teeth of jade. One scream, and even his teeth will become those of a turtle. The mysteries of heaven cannot be divulged. Please inform your worthy son-in-law that he must watch what he says.” After ensuring that his message was understood, the City God mounted the wind and rode off. This time the teacher awoke covered with sweat. Knowing this was no
