‘Qizi…’ He wanted to wake her up, but he was actually the one who was confused.
‘When he tried to save me Hei Chun was badly burned… Shunyu’s father hid us in a friend’s hospital, and on the third day, secretly drove us to a place that was far away but safe. For a whole year we were constantly on the move, escaping from one place to another.’
Mengliu was stunned. ‘I had no idea. I was looking for you… Hei Chun…where is he?’
‘He was seriously injured. One eye was burned out. His fingers were damaged. He was unrecognisable…After we came to Swan Valley, he spent half a year writing The Principles of Genetics.’ Leisurely, she turned her wheelchair in a circle. ‘He said it was better than More’s Utopia. The original manuscript is here.’
‘He wrote that book…I knew it was his writing style! But… does that mean that all along Swan Valley has been a product of your ideas?’ Mengliu stammered. ‘Wh…where is Hei Chun? I want to talk to him.’
‘I’m afraid that will be a little difficult.’ She pointed to a table on the podium. ‘He is in the urn over there. For him, after finishing The Principles of Genetics, a life of the flesh was superfluous. It was his own choice.’
‘He…you…you two…’ Mengliu feared his head would explode.
‘How is Shunyu’s father now? Does he still manage the Green Flower?’ She chatted as she operated on her prostheses, calmly and skilfully.
‘The tavern was seized. He was sent to prison…’
‘Prison huh? What crime did he commit?’ She stopped the action of her hands. Her speech filled with emotion.
‘There was a bunch of charges. Harbouring known criminals, escorting insurgents, participating in subversion…He died during the second year of his imprisonment. I don’t know how he died. No one could tell me…’
One of the artificial legs rattled and dropped to the ground.
She clicked a remote control and the electronic screens all flashed on again, creating a mess of fluorescence that flickered across her confused face, but the sadness in her eyes remained cold and bright.
‘He is your biological father.’
‘Yes. When I found out, it was too late.’ He picked up the prosthesis and handed it back to her. ‘I didn’t get a last chance to see him. And there were no ashes left…’ His voice grew lower, finally sinking all the way to the ground.
She turned and reattached the artificial leg.
‘Did you bring your xun?’ she asked.
‘No.’
She looked at him, then moved the wheelchair beside him and reached out and took the xun from his pocket.
‘Play a tune,’ she ordered, but it also sounded like a plea.
From the flawless accuracy of her action he knew she remembered their past, and it warmed his heart. It surged up in him. He could not refuse her order, or request. And right at this moment his confused heart also needed a release valve.
He kneaded the xun with both hands then, without thinking, played ‘The Pain of Separation’.
The cylindrical hall was like a giant speaker. The mysterious deep tune, fluctuating between regret and mourning, seemed to spread out and fill the universe. In every corner of the world creatures listened to the music. They moaned, they howled, they lamented, they cried, and then they were silent.
Ah Lian Qiu slowly stood up from her chair. She struck the keys on her remote like a skilled typist, commanding the movement of her legs, the bending of her knees, her walk, and then her standing still, all in fluid motions. It was hard to tell they were prosthetics, but the mechanical rhythm of her legs could not be completely disguised, so that in the end she resembled a lifelike robot.
‘There are two things that made your father proud,’ she said, as if preparing to see a visitor off. ‘One was your poetry, the other was the feeling in your playing of the xun. He planned to let the backlash from the demonstrations blow over, then sit down and have a good drink with you.’
‘Maybe he would be ashamed that I didn’t stay by your side and protect you.’
‘No. The one you needed to protect was Shunyu, your half-sister. I had the whole square, the whole of Beiping — the whole crowd of people waiting for the truth — to protect me.’ Her voice grew rich with pride.
‘Qizi?’ He wanted desperately to do something to dissolve the distance between them, and thought that recalling the memory of the earliest stages of their acquaintance might be the best way. ‘I remember the interrogation room. You said you were developing a mysterious machine…At the time I laughed to myself, thinking it was impossible.’ He paused, suddenly alarmed. He looked at the lake and saw what looked like a tornado in the sky above it. ‘But you did it.’
Ah Lian Qiu’s nostrils flared as she sneered, ‘I am the spiritual leader of Swan Valley, Ah Lian Qiu.’
‘Qizi?’
‘I am the spiritual leader of Swan Valley, Ah Lian Qiu.’
‘You’ve become a stranger…’
‘Power, beauty, physical torture — you’ve withstood them all. You refused to write poetry. You have proved yourself a poet. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘I want to take you away. You can’t stay here. Death is spreading through Swan Valley. It’s over…’
‘Leave? Where would I go? Back to your motherland? Ha!’ Her wild laughter stopped suddenly. ‘Go back? Tell her, only when she chooses the most beautiful spring, when the red rose blooms, when she walks the truest path with the most sincere attitude, and admits her wrongs to me! Admits it to everyone! Admits it to the whole world!’
She left him angrily, walking to the podium with a mechanical but swift pace. She picked up a red cloth from the table and expertly wrapped it around her head. She took up the remote control in her hand, then as she walked, she recited the old poem ‘Hunger Strike’, as if an audience of countless people were listening. ‘On sunny days, we are on a hunger strike…’
When her recitation reached its climax, she took a stack of paper from the drawer and tossed it skyward, as if scattering pamphlets. Her tone suddenly rose.
‘…Democracy is life’s highest form of existence. Freedom is an eternal, inherent right. Everyone has the right to know the truth…’
The leaves of paper fell. Mengliu picked one up. It was a page from the manuscript of Hei Chun’s Principles of Genetics. It was exactly the section he was familiar with.
‘To reconstruct the Roman Republic or the early emperor-governed Rome is possible. To achieve this goal, we must have people of courage and genius to constitute the ruling class…We do not need the common public to participate in politics…the contest between nations is only a contest between the quality of their people. It is a battle of knowledge. Therefore, to have a rich and powerful population one must begin with its genes…We will create a new society not because we are better than others, but because we are simple people with simple human needs — for air and light, health and honour, and for freedom and the highest spiritual pursuits. Our impartial behaviour is innate…The excellent and new nation of Swan Valley, in a few years’ time, we will demand the world’s attention.’
Qizi’s voice rolled on, ‘Farewell, parents! Please forgive me. Your child cannot serve two masters. Farewell, citizens! Please allow us to serve you in this unusual manner…’
As quickly as he could, Mengliu scrambled to collect the scattered manuscript. He had caught a glimpse of the value and weight of the work. It was Hei Chun’s vision. He had a responsibility to compile and publish it. And he had a great desire to read it.