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

away; Yuan has become the Cao Cao of his day.” Ah, Great Qing, breeding tigers only courts disaster; ah, Yuan Shikai, you harbored treacherous thoughts. You have slaughtered my citizens to safeguard foreigners’ rights of passage. You have purchased the favors of the Allies with the people’s blood. Backed by a powerful army, you sit back and wait to see what will happen, confident in your ability to maneuver. The fate of the Great Qing Empire now rests in your hands. Empress Dowager, Your Majesty, have You come to Your senses? Have You? If You still see him as the defender of the people in their peril, then the three-hundred-year foundation on which the dynasty has stood will crumble in an instant. When I examine my own conscience, I find that I too am not the loyal official I thought I was. I lack the faith and the allegiance to die for a righteous cause, to pick up a knife and end the life of that treacherous official, even though I have studied the classics and the martial arts since childhood. The actor Sun Bing is braver than I, the beggar Xiao Shanzi more loyal. I am a cringing coward, a weakling given to making concessions. At times strong passion surges in my chest; at other times I am torn between opposing wills. Caution is my watchword; my appearance is but a deceptive mask. I swagger around the common people, but treat my superiors and foreigners to flattery and obsequious smiles. I am a petty, shameless toady to those above and a tyrant to those below. Hopeless coward Gaomi County Magistrate Qian Ding, though breath remains in your body, you are a walking corpse. Even Xiao Shanzi, who shit his pants from fear just before he died, was three thousand times the man you are. Since you are bereft of a heroic spirit, live on like the running dog you are. Benumb yourself, and, as a dog, carry out your duties as official in charge of the execution. By refocusing my eyes, I looked closely at the head the executioner Zhao Jia was holding as he made his boastful announcement, and understood what was expected of me at that moment. I walked quickly over to the opera stage, where I flicked my sleeves, raised the hem of my robe, and saluted by going down on one knee before reporting to that traitor and thug loudly:
    “May it please Your Honors, the execution has been carried out!”
    Yuan Shikai said something to von Ketteler, keeping his voice low, to which the German responded with hearty laughter. Then they stood up, walked down the steps on the side of the stage, and came up to me.
    “On your feet, Gaomi County!” Yuan Shikai said coldly.
    I got to my feet and followed them up to the Ascension Platform. Yuan Shikai, who was robust and stocky, and von Ketteler, who was thin as a pole, walked shoulder to shoulder like a duck and an egret, but took slow steps. I kept my head down, eyes shielded, yet still able to see their backs. Truth is, I had a dagger hidden in my boot, and if I’d had half the courage of my young brother, I could have killed them both on the spot. The calmness and unflappability I’d demonstrated when I went alone into the rebels’ camp to apprehend Sun Bing had given way to crippling fear as I followed along behind them. That alone was proof that I was a tiger in my dealings with ordinary citizens and a sheep in the presence of superiors or foreigners. No, not a sheep, for a ram can butt with its horns, while I have the nerve of a frightened mouse.
    I stood at the feet of the intrepid Sun Bing and looked up into his face, bloated by the mass infusion of blood, some of which trickled out of the corners of his mouth. His puffy eyes were mere slits. The absence of teeth slurred the vituperations emerging from his mouth, but not so much as to make them unintelligible. Not only was he was flinging abuse at Yuan Shikai and von Ketteler, but he was straining to spit bloody foam into their faces. He simply did not have the strength, and all he could manage was childish dribbles. His mouth resembled nothing so much as the bubbly opening of a crab’s mouth. Yuan Shikai nodded his satisfaction.
    “Gaomi County, reward Zhao Jia and his son with the agreed-upon amount of silver, place them into the second rank of yayi, the ‘black,’ and give them a land-tax waiver.”
    Zhao Jia, who was in line behind me, fell to his knees on the inclined plank up to the platform.
    “Humble thanks for Your Excellency’s boundless generosity and favor!” he intoned loudly.
    “Listen carefully, Zhao Jia,”