Death of a Red Heroine

the abstract ideal of Buddhism. Proud of her religious cultivation, she considered herself above romantic entanglement of the red dust.”
    “Sorry for interruption again, what is the red dust?”
    “Just this mundane world, where the ordinary folk like us live.”
    “Then it is not too bad.”
    “Toward the end of the novel, while Miaoyu’s meditating one lonely night, she falls prey to her own sexual fantasy. Unable even to speak in the throes of passion, she’s easily approached and attacked by a group of bandits. She’s not a virgin when she dies. According to literary critics, it’s a metaphor: Only the demon in her heart could lure the demon to her body. She’s a victim of her long sexual repression.”
    “So what is the point?”
    “Could ideals be enough to sustain a human being, especially a female human being, to the end? During the final moments of her consciousness, I believe, Miaoyu must be full of regret for her wasted life. She should have devoted hers to cleaning her house, going to bed with her husband, fixing school lunches for her children.”
    “But Miaoyu is just a character in the novel.”
    “But it is so true. The novel shows brilliant insight into the nature of human beings. What is true for Miaoyu, should also be true for Guan.”
    “I see,” he said. “You’re full of insight, too.”
    Indeed, politics seemed to have been Guan’s whole life, but was that really enough? What Guan read in People’s Daily would not love her back.
    “So I cannot imagine,” she said, “that Guan could have lived only for politics—unless she had suffered some traumatic experience earlier in her life.”
    “That’s possible, but none of her colleagues ever mentioned it.”
    “Well, most of her colleagues have not worked too many years with her—haven’t you told me that?”
    “Yes, that’s also true.”
    Guan had been at the store for eleven years, but none of the interviewees had worked there for so long a time. General Manager Xiao had been transferred from another company just a couple of years earlier.
    “Women do not want to talk about their past, especially a single woman to younger women.”
    “You’re certainly right, Peiqin. I should have interviewed some retired employees as well.”
    “By the way, what about your chief inspector?”
    “Well, he has his ideas,” he said, “but no breakthrough, either.”
    “No, I mean his personal life.”
    “I don’t know anything about it.”
    “He’s in his mid-thirties, isn’t he? A chief inspector at his age must be a most eligible bachelor.”
    “Yes. Some people say a woman reporter from the Wenhui Daily has been seeing him. For an article about him, he says.”
    “Do you think that he would tell people if it were for something else?”
    “Well, he’s somebody in the bureau. Everybody is watching. Of course he will not say anything.”
    “Just like Guan,” she said.
    “There may be one difference.”
    “What’s that?”
    “She was more well-known.”
    “All the more reason she would not say anything to others.”
    “Peiqin, you’re extraordinary.”
    “No, I’m an ordinary girl. Just lucky with an extraordinary husband.”
    A light breeze had sprung up.
    “Sure,” he said ruefully, “an extraordinary husband.”
    “Oh, Guangming, I still remember so clearly those days in Xishuangbanna. Lying alone at night, I thought of you coming to my rescue in elementary school, and it was almost unbearable. I have told you that, haven’t I?”
    “You never stop amazing me,” he said, squeezing her hand.
    “Your hand in my hand,” she said with twinkle in her eyes, “that is all I ask for in the Grand View Garden. I’m so happy sitting here with you and thinking of those poor girls in the novel.”
    A soft mist drifted away outside the antique chamber.
    “Look at the couplet on the moon-shaped door,” Peiqin said.
Hill upon hill, the road seems to be lost,
Willows and flowers, another village appears.

Chapter 14
    S aturday morning, Chief Inspector Chen had arrived at the bureau earlier than usual, when the old doorman, Comrade Liang, called out of his cubicle by the iron gate, “Something for you, Chief Inspector Chen.”
    It was an electronic money order, 3,000 Yuan, a substantial advance for his translation from Lijiang Publishing House. After the loan to Overseas Chinese Lu, Chen had written to Su Liang, the editor in chief, mentioning his new position and apartment as causing him extra expense, but