Sandalwood Death: A Novel (Chinese Literature Today Book Series)

and I will be defiant unto death. Brother Zhu Ba, Sun Bing knows why you are doing this, that you are afraid of my being impaled on the stake. You are afraid that I will not be able to endure the punishment and will cry for my father and mother. You are afraid that the moment will come when both a speedy death and a life worth living are denied me. And so you plan to foil the Germans’ scheme by leaving them only my corpse. Take your hands away, Brother Zhu Ba, for killing me this way will ruin my good name. You should know that my resistance to the Germans has been only partially realized; if I shy from my goal now, it will be like a tigerhead start and a snake-tail finish, a cowardly abandonment. I look forward to walking proudly down the street singing a Maoqiang aria, to live like a warrior and die as a martyr. I want to stand tall and shout my militancy; I want to be the agent of a popular awakening and the cause of crippling fear among the foreign devils. Only moments before death claimed me, I suddenly knew what I had to do: I first clawed at my would-be killer’s eyes with both hands and then kneed him in the groin. Something hot and wet dripped down my body as the hands fell away, freeing my neck from danger.
    As bright moonlight streamed down, I saw that Zhu Ba and I were surrounded by Imperial Guards, their faces bloated like inflated pig bladders. A couple of those pig bladders came up, grabbed me by the arms, and dragged me away, and as my vision cleared, I saw my old friend, the beggar Zhu Ba, lying crumpled on the ground and twitching uncontrollably. Gobs of foul-smelling blue matter were oozing from his head, and I realized that he hadn’t let go because of my struggle, but because he had been clubbed.
    I was immediately bundled by a clutch of shouting men through the secondary gate, past the Exhortation Memorial Arch, and deposited on a platform in front of the Main Hall. I looked up, and was nearly blinded by the array of lanterns that lit up the interior of the hall while others, hung high from the eaves, threw the placard bearing the official title of Yuan Shikai into sharp relief. The Gaomi County formal hall lanterns had been moved to the sides. The soldiers carried me inside and flung me onto the stone kneeling bench. By propping my hands on the floor, I managed to stand up on wobbly legs, but only long enough for a soldier to kick me behind the knee and send me back to the stone bench. Again using my hands, I moved my legs out in front to use the bench as a chair. I refused to kneel.
    Once I was in a comfortable sitting position, I looked up and laid eyes on the moon-shaped, oily face of Yuan Shikai and the long, gaunt face of the German von Ketteler. Magistrate Qian Ding was standing to the side, bent at the waist, his back arched, looking both pathetic and anxious.
    “You, down there, villain.” It was Yuan Shikai’s voice. “State your name!”
    “Ha-ha, ha-ha . . .” My laughter rang through the hall. “Excellency Yuan’s eyesight does not serve him well,” I said. “With pride I shall tell you who I am. I am the leader of the resistance against German aggression, once known as Sun Bing, but I have been anointed the great spirit Yue Fei, carrying the posthumous name of Wumu. I suffered cruelly when imprisoned in the Pavilion of Wind and Waves!”
    “Bring the lanterns closer!” Yuan Shikai demanded.
    Several lanterns materialized in front of my face.
    “Magistrate Qian, what is going on here?” Yuan Shikai said icily.
    Qian Ding rushed up, flicked his sleeves, and lifted the hem of his robe so he could get down on one knee.
    “Excellency, your humble servant personally went to the condemned cells, where I found Sun Bing chained to the bandit’s stone.”
    “Then who is this?”
    The Magistrate rushed up and stood in front of me to get a closer look with the aid of the lanterns. His eyes flashed like will-o’-the-wisps. I thrust out my chin, parted my lips, and said:
    “Take a good look, Eminence Qian. This is a chin you ought to recognize. There was a time when it sprouted a beard so grand that each strand stayed perfectly straight even when immersed in water. And in this mouth there were once two perfect rows of teeth so tough they could bite through bone and leave marks in iron. It was you who personally yanked out the hairs of that beard, and von Ketteler who knocked out my teeth with the butt of his pistol.”
    “Well, if you are Sun Bing, then who is the Sun