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WEI: Did you sign a contract with them to be a surrogate mother?

CHEN MEI: Yes. They gave me a third of the fee up front. The rest was to be paid when the baby was born.

WEI: That could be a problem. But let’s not worry about that. Magistrate Bao will sort everything out. Go on.

CHEN MEI: They said the contents of the syringe came from a very important man, with excellent genes, a genius. They said he’d stopped smoking and drinking for half a year, and ate a whole abalone and two sea cucumbers every day, all to guarantee the birth of a healthy baby.

WEI: (sarcastically) What he wanted was an investment.

CHEN MEI: All he wanted was to father a perfect child. They told me he’d seen a photo of me before my face was ruined, and believed that I was a mixed-race beauty.

WEI: If money means nothing to you, why be a surrogate mother?

CHEN MEI: Did I say that money means nothing to me?

WEI: Just a moment ago.

CHEN MEI: (reflects) Now I remember. My father was in the hospital because of a traffic accident and I became a surrogate to earn enough to pay his bills.

WEI: You are a true filial daughter. A father like that would be better off dead.

CHEN MEI: I thought that too, but he was still my father.

WEI: That’s why I say you’re a filial daughter.

CHEN MEI: I knew my baby wasn’t stillborn, because I heard him cry… listen… he’s crying again… my baby has never tasted his mother’s milk… my poor baby…

The station chief opens the door and enters.

STATION CHIEF: All this crying and carrying on. If you’ve got something to say, say it. Don’t cry.

CHEN MEI: (kneels) Magistrate Bao, please seek justice for this common woman…

STATION CHIEF: What’s that all about? Ridiculous.

WEI: (under her breath) Chief, this could be a monumental case. (hands him her notebook; he scans what she’s written) It could involve a prostitution ring and child trafficking!

CHEN MEI: Magistrate, please save my child!

STATION CHIEF: All right, Citizen Chen, I’ll take your case and be sure to pass it on to Magistrate Bao. Go home and wait to hear from us.

Chen Mei leaves.

WEI: Chief.

STATION CHIEF: You’re new here, so you don’t have a handle on what’s going on. That woman was disfigured in the fire at the Dongli Stuffed Animal Factory. She hasn’t been right in the head for years. We all feel sorry for her, but there’s nothing we can do.

WEI: Chief, I saw…

STATION CHIEF: What did you see?

WEI: (embarrassed) She’s lactating.

STATION CHIEF: That must have been perspiration. You’re new to this post, Wei. In this profession we have to remain vigilant and keep from being overly sensitive.

Curtain

Act IV

The stage is set as in Act II.

Hao Dashou and Qin He sit at their benches making dolls.

A middle-aged man in a wrinkled grey suit and red tie, a fountain pen in his pocket and a briefcase under his arm enters quietly.

HAO DASHOU: (head down) What are you doing here again, Tadpole?

TADPOLE: (flatteringly) You’re a wizard, Hao Dashou. You knew it was me just by the sound.

HAO DASHOU: Not the sound, the smell.

QIN HE: A dog’s sense of smell is thousands of times keener than a man’s.

HAO DASHOU: Was that meant for me?

QIN HE: Did I say that? I was only talking about a dog’s sense of smell.

HAO DASHOU: That was meant for me. (quickly twists the clay in his hand into the image of Qin He’s face, shows it to Tadpole and Qin, then flings it to the floor) I’ve just flattened a face that knows no shame!

QIN HE: (taking up the challenge, twists a clay replica of Hao’s face, shows Tadpole, then flings it to the floor) I’ve just flattened an old dog!

TADPOLE: Hold your temper, Uncle Hao, you too, Uncle Qin. Stop it, both of you. The two images you just created were works of art. What a shame to flatten them.

HAO DASHOU: Butt out! Be careful I don’t make you, then flatten you.

TADPOLE: Make one of me, I beg you. But don’t flatten it afterward. When my play is finished, I’ll put that on the cover.

HAO DASHOU: I already told you that your aunt would rather watch ants climb a tree than read your trashy play.

QIN HE: Why are you writing plays instead of working in the field? If you actually manage to write your play, I’ll eat this ball of clay.

TADPOLE: (modestly) Uncle Hao, Uncle Qin, Gugu is getting old and her eyesight is failing. I wouldn’t dare ask her to read it herself. I plan to read it to her and to you at the same time. I’m sure you both know Cao Yu and Lao She. Well, they both went to the theatre to read their plays to actors and directors.

HAO DASHOU: But you’re not Cao Yu, and you’re not Lao She.

QIN HE: And we’re not actors, and we’re definitely not directors.

TADPOLE: But you are characters in my play! I worked hard to enhance your images. You’ll be sorry if you don’t listen, but if you do, and there are parts you’re unhappy with, I can change them. Otherwise, the play will be staged and will be published as a libretto, and then it will be too late for you to do anything about it. (suddenly sad) I’ve worked on this play for ten years and have gone through everything I owned. I even sold off the rafters in my house. (with his hands on his chest, he coughs painfully) For the sake of this play, I smoked cheap tobacco, and when I had none of that, I smoked the leaves of locust trees — countless sleepless nights, deteriorating health, my very life drained, all for what? Fame? Fortune? (shrilly) No, and no! For Gugu’s love, to give permanent recognition to Northeast Gaomi Township’s very own goddess. If you won’t listen to me read, I’ll kill myself in front of you.

HAO DASHOU: Who are you trying to scare? How do you plan to do it? Rope? Poison?

QIN HE: It actually sounds slightly moving. I think I’d like to hear it.