Suddenly they broke off.
The idol seemed to awaken from a dream. ‘Yes…I am a poet… But now, as a poet, I solemnly tell you that I will never write poetry for Swan Valley!’
After he said this the three-piece percussion group, the single drum, the large gong and the small gong, struck up a manic military tone, a reckless, merciless racket.
Sama’s whip cracked, and the first signs of redness appeared on Mengliu’s white haunches. The accompanying music immediately turned joyous, and Sama began to appreciate his own value. Obviously a strict man, he completed each stroke with the same graceful posture. But his damned idol would not cooperate, and remained mute. So Sama accompanied each stroke with a howl of his own. The whole scene had a tragic feel, which soon left him and his idol both covered in blood.
After ten minutes, Sama fell to the ground with a plop, and declared the end of the flogging.
The soothing strains of the erhu were raised like a supplicant’s hands toward the sky.
‘When a poet no longer writes poetry, he acquires dignity, perhaps a far greater dignity than he ever had when he wrote.’ Sama slowly raised his head and stood up. Tossing the cane from his hand, he spread out his arms toward the auditorium. ‘Lying down or standing up — who can say which is more humble, and which more noble? Perhaps it requires more courage to stop writing, than to write.’
The crimson curtain slowly closed on the stage.
The lights were extinguished.
27
In the past, during the dark nights of his soul, every day felt like three in the morning for Mengliu. Now there were no dark nights, the light in his cell blazed all the time, making red roses dance before his eyes. Who was smoking and drinking in the room while I was asleep? What unpleasant smells, the whole place littered with cigarette butts, and could I still have slept like the dead? Mengliu’s throat was dry. On the night stand were three cups, one with water, one with green tea, and one with rice wine. He drank them all and was still thirsty. The stars on the ceiling no longer sparkled. At the window the sea seemed to be moving, and there was a vague sound of waves. The door to the cell was unlatched, and the hint of a chill wind slipped in through the crack there. It wasn’t cold, but it cleared his head. The unlatched door seemed to imply an opportunity for escape. He smiled contemptuously. How could he escape his own mind? He waited quietly for someone to come and take him to his suffering. He took this as a battle, a standoff; he would never flee.
A ray of sunshine squeezed in through the crack at the door, creating a bar on the ground that fell all the way to his feet. Extremely weak, he felt an unusual sense of fulfillment. His heart was like a radiator, throwing out heat. He opened the autograph book and stroked Qizi’s signature, wondering whether she was dead. But he was numb inside and the concept of life and death no longer had meaning for him. He hid the book, then went to clean himself up. He washed his face and shaved. He could not see the person in the mirror clearly, and had no notion of his appearance. He did everything in very low spirits, stroking his face with his long fingers. When he came out, Suitang was in the room. There was a platter of sleek, sliced rabbit on the table, accompanied by a variety of spices.
‘What’s this? I’m a VIP again?’ The tangy smell made his mouth water.
Suitang smiled. ‘This could be your last meal on earth.’
‘If it’s the first, that’s good, and if it’s the last, that’s fine too. What’s the point?’ He ate greedily. ‘Tell me. There’s no need to beat around the bush.’
‘Don’t be so uncongenial. We are the only two of our kind in Swan Valley.’ Suitang’s resentment had a hint of coquetry. ‘Sama has been sent to the mill for re-education because of his dereliction of duty…Who knows, maybe it’s all a sham. It’s hard to believe your fan club could have penetrated to such a remote location.’
‘So?’ he interrupted.
‘You’re angry? What are you angry with me for? I didn’t betray my friend for glory…’
‘This…is good. It tastes like Darae’s work. Want to try it?’
Ignoring him, she walked straight to the window and pushed it open. The sudden gust that blew in struck him fiercely. Raising his head, he saw the golden shine of the sea outside and was astonished, as if he had seen a miracle. The genuine sea, boundless, waves crashing in the bay, seagulls soaring, and the sea breeze constantly blowing his way. His hand touched the ledge and on the wall a crack showed through. It was a sliding door. He opened it, and found a balcony outside. It was connected to a long passage like a bridge standing above the sea. He could not help but grasp Suitang’s hand, and she followed him obediently out the door. They reached the end of the bridge and turned to look back at the island far behind them. The sea and sky were both boundless, they couldn’t believe they were on Earth.
‘I’ve felt I was in a fog these past few days. Suitang, is this a dream?’ A man may suffer from waking nightmares, especially when he has gone without sleep for nights. Standing in the dazzling sun, gazing at the vast world, his feelings might be even more overwhelming. Mengliu was on the bridge with the water rippling beneath him, and a tempest stirring in his mind. He wanted to write a poem. The words were already on the tip of his tongue. No, on his lips, ready to fly out of his mouth at any moment, like a bird leaving its nest. No. It could not be. He looked into the distance and tried hard to swallow the verse. Apparently choking on it, his face reddened. Before long, he began to feel dizzy, nauseous, and bloated. He leant his head over the sea and vomited. Pieces of rabbit that had turned to debris rained down on the water, then sank quietly.
Suitang said, ‘The sea breeze is not good for you.’
‘I must have been poisoned. If they want to kill me, it would not be difficult. Why bother poisoning me in secret?’ he shouted as he turned back.
Suitang rushed after him, saying, ‘Are you crazy? I ate the other half of the rabbit. There’s nothing wrong with me. Your empty stomach rejected the oily food. You should eat porridge first.’
‘Eat porridge? I would rather drink the west wind! Look at me. I could float away now.’
He really did look like a sage. Stumbling like a kite that could not get lift-off, he almost fell into the sea several times more.
They returned by the same route. Strangely, the place they had come from was gone, and the entire topography seemed to have changed too. They had somehow ended up in a secluded courtyard halfway up the mountain. The wide doorway to the courtyard looked like the entrance to a square. There was a nude sculpture by the door and an abandoned armoured vehicle topped with a long gun pointed off in the distance. There was nothing in the courtyard, only a large column shooting up to the sky in the centre and below it, an area the size of a basketball court. Mengliu thought of the white chimney he and Juli had seen. He clearly recalled Juli’s longing look. This should be it.
He walked around the base, but there was no entrance. He looked up, but he could not see the top. He instinctively knew this wasn’t a chimney. Perhaps it was a military watchtower. Its top would afford a panoramic view of Swan Valley, as well as the distant sea. Suitang agreed. As he checked the bricks, he asked where she had been in recent days and how she had been treated. Suitang prevaricated, saying, ‘I just can’t describe the place. Don’t think I’m making things up. It was like I was sleepwalking. I was in a different place every day. I had plenty to eat and drink, and I listened to a lot of lectures. They said you were writing a ballad.’
‘You really don’t know me. I’m not like you, easily manipulated… even to the point of becoming their lobbyist.’