Without regard for manners, he washed and changed into a grey robe and black cloth shoes. The sun was bright, but mild. He was bathed in comfort. Feeling that he’d entered a medieval atmosphere, he imagined people of that era, sheep herders spending their days out in the fresh air. They chanted curses when they got toothaches, and when they got tired of one place, they simply uprooted themselves and went on their way. They seemed to have just passed by.
Mengliu left the house and walked to a curved building. He found himself standing in an empty hall lit by stained-glass French windows. The floor was tiled with a red porcelain that made it look like coloured glass. There was a curtained stage, with the walls on either side hung with paintings depicting the events of a fairy tale. The remaining spaces were hung with embroideries, paper cutouts, and paintings made with shells. A few musical instruments, having been polished, stood in a neat row. Passing through the building, he encountered a group of children playing marbles, wearing odd clothes and speaking in a strange tongue. The marbles rolled in the sunlight, setting off sparkles to rival the glow of their fancy jewellery.
Seeing Mengliu, the children stopped their game and began whispering to one another. After laughing strangely, they ran off. A boy of about five or six years, with short hair and brown eyes, was left behind. He approached Mengliu like a little raccoon, picked up the marbles, offered them to the guest, then turned and walked away.
The boy had given Mengliu dazzling diamonds, so bright they made him squint. He hid them nervously in his clothes, then left in haste.
When he had walked along a path for what seemed like a long time, Mengliu came to a square full of sculptures. Crowds of people sat on the grass. Some banners with slogans hung from the trees, while others lined the roadside. Everyone looked cheerful and relaxed, as if enjoying a barbecue while on holiday. People drank beer or other beverages. Several played pipes made from reeds, with a crisp lyrical melody that crackled with a fiery vitality.
The crowd was full of people of different skin colours. Their clothing was light grey and of a coarse linen texture, loose-fitting, plain, and simple. Some were embroidered with complex patterns of fish, dragons, bamboo, flowers, butterflies, or the Buddhist swastika symbol, resembling clothing typical of Han Chinese, though not as beautiful. The men wore shirts with short fronts and baggy pants or open-necked long gowns, and their heads were either wrapped in turbans or left bare, exposing their curly hair. Their mannerisms and language were cultured. The women were distinguished by their colourful clothing, the sleeves had borders and the kimono-style collars were low-cut, exposing their inner garments. Some wore their hair loose, some covered it with a black hairnet, others chose to put it all up, adorned with a few brightly coloured hairpins. Some pulled their hair into a single ox-horn-shaped bun, situated on the left or right side of their heads. They tied their hair with something like flaxen yarn, of many different shades and patterns. There were also women who chose to plait their hair, curling the braids around their heads, inserting crescent-shaped combs at the crown to hold them in place. Others chose to pull their hair into spiral-shaped buns with scarves folded into hats at the crown, the neatly stacked ribbons flowing in the wind. The crafted shells used to secure the scarves shone like gems.
The women bloomed like flowers, and Mengliu was elated at the sight of them. He walked to the statue of a naked man and stood beneath it. At its base, he saw a plaque inscribed with a description in English. This was one of Swan Valley’s spiritual leaders. He had created Swan Valley’s language and led a life of hardship and good deeds. He established kindness as Swan Valley’s most important virtue.
The spiritual leader looked like a woodcutter. He held a sickle or some sort of weapon in one hand, while the other was clenched into a fist. He was muscular, with ripples protruding all over his naked body. He exuded power from head to toe, and all of the strength of his being was centred in his phallus. It stood impressively erect, pointing straight ahead, like invincible artillery aimed at the very spirit of evil.
Mengliu thought, ‘What artist had the guts to take the clothes off his spiritual leader? Didn’t he stop to think of how it would make all the women lust after him?’
A young man climbed nimbly up the statue. He hung a red banner with white lettering on the phallus of the spiritual leader. The slogans billowed outward in the breeze.
They were commemorating the spiritual leader’s birthday. Bird-shaped flowers bloomed everywhere. Mengliu later learned that these were the spiritual blossoms of Swan Valley, and stood for liberty and independence.
Enthusiastic applause broke out in the square. People beat on drums. The reed pipes belted out their sharp notes. The people, well-trained, raised their voices in unison a few seconds later. Their timing was as precise and clean as the slicing of a knife.
On a huge electronic screen, a spaceship flew through distant stars, and drew nearer. Its door opened slowly, and the image of a figure decked out in a space suit as it floated in the cabin was vaguely visible. It was impossible to tell its age or gender. The creature adjusted its position so that it faced the people, then waved and said in a robotic voice:
‘Beautiful and highly intelligent people of Swan Valley, greetings! In our Swan Valley, where kindness is the priority, each person has the potential to become the new spiritual leader. Choose the better history, put into practice the precious right that has been passed down from generation to generation, these noble ideals: it is God’s promise that each of us is equal, that all people may be free, and that everyone has the opportunity to reach the full measure of happiness. Thank you for your trust, your passion, and your sacrifice. Your insights and your upbringing are all influenced by the spirit of Swan Valley. You are all perfect, the pride of Swan Valley. We do not allow the soul to remain imprisoned. Now as your spiritual leader Ah Lian Qiu, I will do my best for the beautiful Swan Valley, giving my all, even my life…’
Mengliu did not understand the language of Swan Valley, but did get some impression of the spiritual leader’s meaning from the English phrases mixed into the speech, which used words such as ‘good,’ ‘spirit,’ ‘soul,’ and ‘freedom.’ He had no interest in the spiritual leader and his speech. With so many wonderful women in the gathering, he had, from habit, already been out on the prowl. In this area he had an innate sense, and he quickly homed in on a woman in green. She wore a simple robe, with the hem of her skirt, neckline and waistband all embroidered in blue. Her blouse was low-cut, her bosom full and her neck smooth. Her black hair reached all the way down to her waist. Tiny feet peeked out from beneath the hem of her skirt.
His heart was like a car careening along a mountain road. The bumps and turns of it shocked him.
Just as he thought to go over and make his advances, he found himself surrounded by a crowd. They could tell he was a foreigner. According to their tradition, they were competing for the chance to take him into their care. He stood out like a cherry on a snowy-white cream cake. But they didn’t speak to him at all. As if he were an animal that had strayed among humans, or an item in a bazaar, he was surrounded by heated debate, as if they were discussing whether to send him back to the zoo or release him into the forest. The dispute rushed on, punctuated by expressions of modesty and sincerity, and even some pleading.
Mengliu soon understood that he was the cherry to be plucked, taken home, washed, placed on a clean white plate, and stored in a warm, hospitable cupboard. He was all too used to seeing the cold and ruthless treatment of others, farmers going to the market with their bullock carts overturned and their bullocks slapped around; doctors who had not received red envelopes with payoffs inside sewing their patients’ anuses shut; the elderly left to freeze to death on the roadside, the poor to die at home. People kidnapped children and sold them, demolished homes, abused animals. Now he stood here, a stranger, and he could feel the selfless love of these people. He was completely captivated by their show of friendliness.