‘Good for them!’
‘If you want the truth,’ Li Yidou says, ‘the meat wasn’t very good at all.’
‘Your mother-in-law says that the quality of meat is affected by the fear an animal feels just before it’s killed. That was in one of your stories.’
‘You’ve got a good memory.’
‘I’ve eaten braised live fish,’ Mo Yan says. ‘Even when its body is steaming under that gravy, its mouth keeps opening and closing, like it’s trying to say something.’
‘There’s no paucity of examples of cruel eating practices,’ Li Yidou says. ‘My mother-in-law is an expert in that area.’
‘Are there many differences between the parents-in-law in your stories and your real-life in-laws?’
‘Night and day,’ Li Yidou says, blushing.
‘I admire your nerve,’ Mo Yan says. ‘If your stories actually get published one day, your wife and your father-in- law will have you braised, that’s for sure.’
‘I wouldn’t mind. They could even steam or deep-fry me, as long as the stories got published.’
‘I don’t think it’d be worth it.’
‘I do.’
‘Let’s talk about it some more tonight,’ Mo Yan says. ‘You’re OK in my book. There’s no doubt that you’re more talented than lam.’
‘You flatter me, Sir.’
IV
The luncheon is held at the Yichi Tavern.
Mo Yan occupies the seat of honor, Secretary Hu is the host. Seven or eight other people are seated around the table, all city fathers. Yu Yichi and Li Yidou fill out the guest list. With all his experience, Yu Yichi cuts a dashing figure. Li Yidou, on the other hand, is very uncomfortable, and doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Secretary Hu, who looks to be in his mid-thirties, has a square face, big eyes, hair combed straight back, and an oily, shiny face; poised and dignified, and extremely well spoken, he wears his authority like a cloak.
After three rounds of toasts, Secretary Hu stands up, saying he’s expected at several more luncheons, and leaves. Deputy Head Jin of the Propaganda Department picks up the decanter to host the next round. A half-hour later, Mo Yan’s head is spinning, his lips like pieces of wood.
‘Deputy Head Jin,’ Mo Yan declares, ‘I never thought you’d turn out to be such a fine individual… I figured you to be a… child-eating demon…’
Mo Yan does not notice the beads of cold sweat that suddenly appears on Li Yidou’s face.
‘Our Deputy Head is an accomplished musician – he plays a number of instruments and sings as well,’ one of the dignitaries says. ‘You should hear him sing the part of the legendary Magistrate Bao. His stentorian voice is as good as the great Qiu Shengxu!’
‘Let’s hear some, Deputy Head Jin,’ Mo Yan proposes.
‘If you don’t mind my making a fool of myself,’ Deputy Head Jin says.
He gets to his feet, clears his throat, and, in a thunderous voice with a series of crescendos and diminuendos, sings a long aria without turning red in the face or gasping for air. When it is over, he clasps his hands and announces, ‘Please don’t laugh!’
Mo Yan shouts his appreciation.
‘May I be permitted a question, Mo Yan, Sir?’ Deputy Head Jin asks. ‘What’s the reason for pissing into the liquor vat?’
His face reddening, Mo Yan replies, ‘The rantings of a novelist. Don’t take them seriously.’
Deputy Head Jin says, I’ll drink three glasses if Mo Yan will sing a bit of “Little Sister Strides Boldly Forward.”‘
'I'm not much of a drinker,’ Mo Yan demurs, ‘and a very bad singer.’
‘A son of Han, a man among men, never drinks without a song. Come come come, I’ll drink first.’
Deputy Head Jin lines up three glasses and fills them. Then he bends his head down and takes a deep breath; when he raises his head, he is holding all three glasses in his mouth. He tips his head back until the glasses are bottoms up, then lowers his head once more, placing the glasses exactly where they were.
‘Bravo!’ one of the guests shouts. ‘Plum Blossoms Playing Thrice!’
‘Mo Yan, Sir, that’s Deputy Head Jin’s
‘It’s superb!’ Mo Yan says.
‘Your turn, Mo Yan, Sir,’ Deputy Head Jin says.
Three glasses are lined up in front of Mo Yan and filled to the brim.
‘Don’t expect any Plum Blossoms Playing Thrice from me,’ Mo Yan says.
‘One glass at a time, that’s all we ask,’ Deputy Head Jin says generously. ‘We’re not out to embarrass you.’
With three more glasses down the hatch, Mo Yan’s head is really spinning.
The other guests are urging him to sing.
Mo Yan realizes that his mouth will no longer do his bidding, now that his lips and tongue are out of sync.
‘Writer Mo Yan,’ Deputy Head Jin says, ‘if you’ll sing something, anything, I’ll drink the “submarine” for you.’
So Mo Yan sings for them, a ghastly sound, as it turns out.
Still everyone shouts his approval.
‘All right,' Deputy Head Jin says, ‘now l’ll drink the “submarine.”'
He pours a glass of beer, then a glass of hard liquor, which he lets sink in the taller glass. Picking up the beer glass, he tips his head back and drinks them both together, every last drop.
Just then a woman enters the dining room, laughing loudly -Ha ha. ‘Where’s the writer?’ she asks loudly. I’d like to toast him with three glasses.’
Li Yidou leans over to Mo Yan. ‘Mayor Wang,’ he whispers. ‘No one holds her liquor like she does.’
Mo Yan gazes at the Mayor as she approaches: large, square face, fair and delicate, bedroom eyes, moist as an autumn shower, elegantly dressed, looking like a stately woman of ancient times.
Intending to stand up, instead he slides indecorously under the table.
V
… Mo Yan Sir Mo Yan Sir what’s wrong please wake up This guy wrote
