I am learning to kill. I am trying not to shake. There is no middle ground, I tell myself. Kill or be killed. On February 10, 1967, a congressional meeting takes place. The string between the oppositions tightens. The focus is whether or not to acknowledge my leadership in the army; whether Kuai Da-fu and his Red Guards are allowed to open branch offices in the army, and whether the students should be permitted to organize rallies to criticize the army heads. All meetings end up with each side banging the table. Later on a secret letter of petition signed by the "old boys" is delivered to Mao by Marshal Tan Zhen-lin.
I am sure Tan has never imagined that I would get a chance to read the letter. But I do. Mao shows it to me voluntarily. In the letter I am described as a "white-boned demon," a bloodsucker and a bad cloud hanging over the sky of the Communist Party. I am demanded as a sacrifice.
You are left with no choice, Mao says, flipping himself in his indoor swimming pool. He looks like a fat otter. Too much pork with sugar and soy sauce, I think to myself.
What are you going to do? he asks, floating. Marshal Tan says that he has never cried, but now is crying for the Party.
I look around trying to find a place to sit, but there are no chairs. I haven't been to the pool since its renovation. I don't know what Tan means, I say.
Mao dives into the water and then resurfaces. Why don't we read his letter one more time, then?
He is quitting the Party's membership. And he has done three things he regrets in life.
One?
That he is living today…
He is ashamed.
Second, he regrets following you and that he became a revolutionary; and third…
He regrets ever joining the Communist Party.
Precisely, Chairman.
Mao rolls over and swims with his belly up. It makes him look like he is holding a ball. He closes his eyes and continues to float. After a while he swims toward the edge.
I watch him climb out. The water falls from him in silver streams. He has gained a tremendous amount of weight. The muscles are puffy on his chest and arms. Below his swelling belly, his legs are extremely thin. He picks up a towel and steps into gray shorts.
Call Premier Zhou to arrange a meeting. I'll talk to the old boys on the eighteenth. By the way I want you to join me. Lin Biao and his wife too.
My sky brightens-Mao is picking up the gun himself.
I call up Kang Sheng and Chun-qiao to celebrate the news.
The meeting of historical significance opens on the evening of February 18, 1967. Premier Zhou is the host. Lin's wife Ye and I come early along with Kang Sheng, Chun-qiao and his disciple Yiao Wen-yuan. We sit on the left side of a long table with Mao and Premier Zhou on each end. We are all dressed in the People's Liberation Army uniform.
I am excited and a little nervous. I worry that I don't look tough enough. Ye is better. She is a typical military wife who can bang the table louder than her husband. Since Mao wants Lin to be his successor, Ye has been acting like a second lady. She is careful with me, though. She has learned Wang Guang-mei's lesson. She compliments me on every occasion and invites me to speak at the Institute of the People's Liberation Army. She shows her appreciation.
Ye reminds me of a midwife in my village who powdered her skin with flour in order to make herself look like a city woman with pale skin. Ye never tells me about her background. She avoids the subject when I ask. She is not proud of her origin. I am sure it's low. I am glad that she doesn't speak foreign languages and I am glad that she doesn't like to read. I selfishly feel blessed that she acts a fool when speaking in front of the public. She is a lousy speaker. She once told me that every time she gets up on the stage she gets diarrhea afterwards.
I have been thinking that if I play the game right Ye can be a perfect supporting actress. Her stupidity serves as a foil to my intelligence. For that I am willing to help her. Getting to know her will also make it easier to destroy her in the future if necessary. After all I have no idea how the Lins will treat me after Mao passes away. It won't be hard for them to find an excuse and get rid of me. I am trusting nobody.
At the moment Ye is the woman I need to replace Wang Guang-mei. Ye indulges in rumors. She goes door to door to collect them. She digs up garbage and analyzes her gatherings like a backyard rat.
Mao gives no greeting when Marshal Chen Yi, Tan Zhen-lin, Ye Jian-ying, Nie Rong-zhen, Xu Xiang-qian, Li Fu-chun and Li Xian-nian enter the room. Premier Zhou is used to Mao's unpredictable temper and he starts the meeting anyway. By making light jokes he tries to relax everyone. Suddenly he is interrupted-Mao fires.
What are you boys up to? Conducting a coup d'état? Trying to remove me? Has Liu always been your secret choice? Why the conspiracy? Why vote for the Cultural Revolution in the first place? Why don't you vote against me and live with the honesty you claim as your principle? Why act like cowards?
The old boys are speechless.
Marshal Tan glances at the opposite side of the table where Madame Mao Jiang Ching sits sandwiched by Kang Sheng and Chun-qiao.
Tan breaks the silence. I am sticking to my view. I don't get it, to be honest with you, Chairman. What is the Cultural Revolution if its goal is to abolish order? Why torture the founding fathers of the republic? What's the point in creating factions in the army? To tear down the country? Make me get it, Chairman!
The old boys nod in unison.
Mao seems to be shocked by Tan's frankness. Good Tan! Here the devil comes to show its true face! You know what? There is no way I will allow you to bring the Cultural Revolution to a miscarriage! The Red Guards have my full support! What they are doing is what China needs. A soul operation on a mass scale! We need chaos! Absolute chaos! Violence is the only choice to turn the situation. A new China can only be born upon the ashes of the old.
She praises Mao in her heart. What a performance! Chaos, absolute chaos. She smiles although her face continues to look grave. She turns to Kang Sheng, who is nodding with the same we-are-winning glance.
Let me make myself clear, Mao continues. If the Cultural Revolution fails, I will retreat. I will take Comrade Lin Biao with me. We will go back to the mountains. You can have everything. I am sure that's why you are here today, aren't you? You want Liu and you want capitalism. You want to give the people's China back to landlords and industrialists. Fine! You shall watch our children being sold, exploited and worked to death again. Have it all! Why aren't you talking? What's wrong? What is the silence and bitter expression? You have been giving my wife Comrade Jiang Ching a hard time. You never acknowledge her as my representative and a leader in her own right. What's the truth behind this? How do you pretend that this is not directed toward me? Take over the power, then! Hey, Marshal Tan and Chen, you, the loudest, the most opinionated. Why don't you arrest my wife? Take her out! Shoot her! Pull the trigger! Destroy the headquarters of the Cultural Revolution. Put Kang Sheng into exile, get rid of me once and for all. Go ahead if you have such hatred for Comrade Jiang Ching and me. Why don't you boys fart!
Like a bug who throws himself into the fire, Tan gets up and starts to swear. Shame!
Mao clenches his teeth. A cigarette breaks between his fingers. When he speaks again, his voice has a strange throaty sound as if coming up with phlegm. It's fine with me that you choose to turn yourself into a reactionary. Fine with me that you make yourself an enemy of the people. What can I do? Thirty-three years ago I saved the army because the army was ready to be saved. Am I right, Premier Zhou?
Premier Zhou and the old boys lower their heads. Mao stirs the memory of the past, of the horror without his leadership, of three fourths of the Red Army destroyed in months, of the shame of the Party's misconduct by men including Premier Zhou himself, and of how Mao single-handedly turned defeat into victory.