She thought how strange it was that she had been married to Mao for seventeen years.
Do you know what secret it was that got us married? Mao asked as if reading her thoughts and then answered himself. It was the fascination with ourselves. We once were each other's mirror that reflected our own beauty. We sang hymns to ourselves… and that was all.
Getting up, he fastened his pants. A smoker who burned his pillow with his own cigarette butt. His tone was filled with irony.
You're wrong! she blurted out.
Come on, our life has been spent in battling the feudalists, Chiang Kai-shek, the Japanese, the imperialists, the mother earth and each other. Never mind the past. For your future's sake I advise you to remember the reason the willow blossom flies higher than a bird-it is because it has the wind's support.
Well, something you'd better remember too. You and I are two sides of one leaf-there is no way to split-your godlike picture depends on me to hold it in its place.
Play out your drama any way you like. He walked toward the door and paused. But don't assign me to any role.
The door slammed behind him.
The hall echoed.
No syphilis. The report from my doctor comes back. I let out a long breath. I was scared. Curious, I decide to telephone Mao's physician, Dr. Li. I ask if Mao has syphilis. After a nervous hesitation Dr. Li explains that he needs a letter of permission from the Politburo to reveal information on Mao's health. Doesn't it count that I am his wife?
I was instructed not to answer any question regarding the Chairman's health, Madame.
The line is silent for a while. I press on. If I am to sleep with him tonight, will it be safe?
No reply.
I will charge you with first-degree murder if you lie, Doctor.
I let the threat sit for a while and then repeat my question.
No. The man finally cracks. It won't be safe.
So he's got syphilis.
I didn't say that, Madame! He suddenly acts hysterical. I've never said that Chairman Mao had syphilis!
With his medical bags in hand Dr. Li flies in on a military jet at seven-thirty in the morning. Madame Mao receives him in a cottage surrounded by the West Lake in Hang-zhou. She is in a skylighted drawing room taking photos of roses.
Dr. Li wipes his brow and begins to unpack his equipment. She stops him. I sent for you to answer me one question. What have you done to cure Mao?
The man's fingers begin to play nervously with the zipper on his equipment case.
You see, Doctor, I don't exist if Mao gets chewed up by bugs.
Dr. Li lets out a breath. Forgive me, Madame… The Chairman… he is not particularly fond of my treatment.
She laughs as she takes apart her tripod. That's typical!
Dr. Li smiles humbly. Well, the Chairman is always busy. He has a country to run.
He is an old smelly-rotten-stone from the bottom of a manure pit, she says loudly. I know how you feel, Doctor. I have been trying to change his diet for years without a single success. He loves fat pork with sugar and soy sauce. The greasier the better. But the syphilis bug is a different matter, isn't it? What will happen if he continues to be the virus carrier? Will the other parts of his body be infected? Will he die from the disease?
No, Dr. Li confirms. It does much less damage to a man than to a woman.
Are you saying that he'd be fine without taking any medication?
The doctor chooses to remain silent again.
Is it difficult to get rid of the bug?
No, not at all. All the Chairman has to do is to receive a couple of shots.
Did you explain this to him?
Yes I did, Madame.
What happened?
The man's mouth drops and he won't utter another word.
She passes him a towel to wipe his sweat. Again it's typical. My husband couldn't care less about what happens to his partners. Sit down, Doctor. You don't have to make a sound. Just correct me if I am wrong. Please believe that I know Mao inside out. Did he say that there was no way you could make him suffer the shots? I bet he said exactly that. Yes? You see. He has to continue the practice of longevity and you think what an awful human being he is, don't you?
No no no no. The man springs up from the sofa. I've never thought… I'd never dare…
She smiles as if finding the situation comical.
Dr. Li continues like a bad actor reciting his lines. I would never think of Chairman Mao in such a way. I am a one hundred percent revolutionary. I devote my life to our great leader, great teacher, great commander-our Great Helmsman.
Poor man. Putting her camera into its case she teases, Then you must think that these girls deserve the bugs, don't you? No? Why not? It's their punishment, isn't it? I understand that some of the victims of syphilis can never bear children? Am I wrong? All right, I am right. Do you sympathize with the girls? I would be surprised if you didn't. I was told that you are a decent doctor. Do you believe in the Chairman's practice? Have you encouraged him? Then you discouraged him? No? Why? Why not? You are a doctor. You are supposed to cure, to heal, to stop the virus! What? You don't know? You see, you have come to understand my situation now. Because you are experiencing what I am experiencing. It is all about how a decent person gets stripped of his dignity.
15
UNLIKE MAO, WHO HAS LITTLE TASTE for art and architecture, Madame Mao Jiang Ching finds herself touched by the Forbidden City, especially its Summer Palace. Her favorite spot is the Sea of Magnolia Fragrance, its forest of flowers behind the Hall of Happiness in Longevity. The plants were transplanted from southern China two centuries ago. During its blooming season Madame Mao spends hours wandering in what she calls "the pink clouds." The other spot is the Peony Terrace, built in 1903 by the old empress dowager. The flower beds are made of terraced carved rock.
In the winter, "Strolling through a picture scroll" becomes her favorite activity. She orders the guards and servants to make themselves "disappear" before she enters the "scene." The complex of buildings stands on the hillside west of the Tower of the Scent of Buddha. She loves the view: three towers, two pavilions, a gallery and an arched gateway. She listens to the wind and finds herself calmed. The third day of the snow she comes again to look at a magnificent building that has a large octagonal two-story open pavilion with a double-eave roof of green and yellow glazed tiles. It is now blanketed by snow. She weeps freely and feels understood-a great actress's disappearance.
The whiteness, the sorrow. Alone in the picture world.
I order servants to bring me cloth-bound picture books. I have begun studying the personalities of the Forbidden City. I share an interest in opera with the empress dowager. On splendid days I come to visit her glories. I walk directly toward the Hall of Health and Happiness. The hall stands opposite the stage at a distance of less than twenty meters. It was here that the empress enjoyed theatrical performances. I sit down on her throne. It is a gold-lacquered chair with a design of a hundred birds paying homage to the phoenix. It is comfortable. The chair is kept like new. The spirit of the woman is touchable.
I come to adjust my mood. I come to dream, and to feel what it is like to be the empress dowager and to have true power. I don't need a troupe to play for me. I see myself as the protagonist in an imagined opera. The scenes are vivid as I leaf through the empress's opera manual. They are the classic pieces I grew up with, the ones I learned from my grandfather. The Diary of the Imperial Existence. I can hear the tunes and arias. It was said that the empress didn't sit on the throne to watch the performances but reclined in bed in her wing and observed from the window. She had seen the opera so many times that she had memorized every detail.