No ONE, I TRUST, WILL CALL TWENTY YEARS OF SERVING OUR ILLUSTRIOUS Ming Emperor a poor record. My late father, it is true, served fifty years, and when he died a Councilor of State, he had just celebrated his seventieth birthday. I shall be forty, three days hence- but may Heaven grant that I shan't be then still alive.
In the ever rarer moments that my tortured brain is clear, I let my thoughts go back to the years that have passed, the only escape now left. Four years ago I was promoted to Investigator of the Metropolitan Court, a signal honor for an official of only thirty-five. People predicted a great future for me. How proud I was of this large mansion assigned to me, and how I loved to walk in the beautiful garden, hand in hand with my daughter! How small she was then, only a child, but she knew already the literary names of every flower I pointed at. Four years-but how long ago that seems now. Like memories from a previous existence.
Now you, threatening shadow, again press close to me; shrinking in terror, I must obey you. Do you grudge me even this brief respite? Didn't I do all you ordered me to do? Didn't I last month, after my return from that fey old city of Han-yuan by its sinister lake, choose at once an auspicious date for my daughter's wedding; and wasn't she married last week? What do you say now? My senses are numbed by the unbearable pain; I can't hear you well. You say that… that my daughter must learn the truth? Almighty Heaven, have you no pity? That knowledge shall break her heart, destroy her… No, don't hurt me, please. I shall do as you say, only don't hurt me… Yes, I shall write.
Write, as every sleepless night I write, with you, inexorable executioner, standing over me. The others can't see you, you say. But isn't it true that when a man has been touched by death, others can see its mark on him? Every time I come upon one of my wives or concubines in the now deserted corridors, she quickly averts her face. When I look up from my papers in the office, I often catch my clerks staring at me. As they hurriedly bend again over their documents, I know that they covertly clasp the amulets they have taken to wearing of late. They must feel that after I had come back from my visit to Han-yuan I was not merely very ill. A sick man is pitied; a man possessed is shunned.
They do not understand. They need only pity me. As one pities a man condemned to the inhuman punishment of inflicting on himself with his own hand the lingering death: being forced by the executioner to cut away his own flesh, piece by piece. Every letter I wrote, every coded message I sent out these last days cut away a slice of my living flesh. Thus the threads of the ingenious web I had been weaving patiently over the entire Empire were cut, one by one. Every thread cut stands for a crushed hope, a thwarted illusion, a wasted dream. Now all traces have been wept out; no one shall ever know. I even presume that the
This is the moment that the executioner plunges his long knife in the tortured criminal's heart, giving him the merciful deathblow. Why, then, do you, fearful shadow, insist on prolonging my agony, you who call yourself by the name of a flower? Why do you want to tear my heart to pieces, by forcing me to kill the soul of my poor daughter? She never committed any crime, she never knew… Yes, I hear you, terrible woman; you say that I still must write, write down everything, so that my daughter shall know. Tell her how Heaven denied me a quick, self- chosen end, and condemned me to a slow death of agony in your cruel hands. And that after having granted me one brief glance of… what could have been.
Yes, my daughter shall know. About meeting you on the shore of the lake, about the old tale you told me, all. But I swear that if there still be a Heaven above us, my daughter shall forgive me; a traitor and a murderer she shall forgive, I tell you. But not you! Not you, because you are only hate, hate incarnate, and you shall die together with me, die forever. No, don't pull away my hand now; you said 'Write!' and write I shall. May Heaven have mercy on me and… yes, also on you. For now-too late-I recognize you for what you really are, and I know that you never come uninvited. You haunt and torture to death only those who have called you up by their own dark deeds.
This, then, is what happened.
The Court had directed me to Han-yuan, to investigate a complicated case of embezzlement of government funds; it was suspected that the local authorities were involved. You will remember that this year spring came early. A feeling of expectancy was vibrating in the warm air; in a reckless mood I had even thought of taking my daughter along with me on that trip to Han-yuan. But that mood passed, and I took Chrysanthemum, my youngest concubine, with me instead. I thus hoped to restore peace to my tormented soul, for Chrysanthemum had been very dear to me-before. When I had arrived in Han-yuan, however, I realized that it had been an idle hope. She whom I had left behind was more than ever with me. Her image stood between us; I couldn't even bring myself to touch Chrysanthemum's poor slender hand.
Feverishly, I devoted all my efforts to the case, trying to forget. I solved it within a week; the culprit proved to be a clerk from the capital, and he confessed. On my last night in Han-yuan the grateful local authorities gave a splendid parting dinner for me, in the Willow Quarter, the abode of the singing girls, of century-old fame. They were profuse in their protestations of gratitude and admiration for my speedy solution of the vexing case. They said they only regretted that they could not have Almond Blossom dance for me. She was the most beautiful and accomplished dancer of the quarter, they said, named after a famous beauty of bygone times. Unfortunately, the girl had unaccountably disappeared, that very morning. If only I could prolong my stay in Han-yuan for a few days, they added wistfully, doubtless I would then solve for them that mystery too! Their flattery pleased me; I drank more wine than usual, and when late in the night I came back to the luxurious hostel that had been placed at my disposal, I was in an elated mood. All would be well, I felt; I would break the spell!
Chrysanthemum was waiting for me. She wore a peach-colored single dress that admirably set off her young figure. She was looking at me with her lovely eyes, and I would have folded her in my arms. Then, suddenly, the other, the forbidden one, was there, and I could not.
A violent shiver shook my frame. Muttering I know not what excuse, I ran out into the garden. I felt as if I were suffocating; I wanted air. But it was sultry and hot in the garden. I had to go out, to the lake. I tiptoed past the dozing doorman, and went out into the deserted street. When I had reached the bank of the lake, I stood still and looked out for a long time over the still water, deep despair in my heart. What would my carefully built-up scheme boot me? Who could rule men when himself not a man? At last I knew there was only one solution.
Once I had taken that decision, I felt at peace. I loosened the front of my purple robe, and pushed the high black cap back from my perspiring brow. I strolled along at a leisurely pace, looking for a place on the bank that would suit my purpose. I think I even hummed a song. Is not the best time for leaving the painted hall when the red candles are still burning and when the wine is still warm in the golden goblets? I enjoyed the charming surroundings. On my left the almond trees, laden with white blossoms whose scent hung heavily in the warm spring air. And on my right the silvery expanse of the moonlit lake.
I saw her when I turned a corner of the winding road.
She was standing on the bank, very close to the water, clad in a white silk robe with a green sash, and wearing a white water lily in her hair. As she looked round at me, the moonlight shone on her lovely face. Then I knew in a flash that here at last was the woman who would break the laming spell, the woman Heaven had destined for me.
She also knew, for when I had gone up to her there was none of the usual greetings and polite inquiries. She only said:
A MEETING ON THE SHORE OF THE LAKE
