The Mao Case

to me.
    “After researching everything, I proposed to Li that we write to the author, asking for his cooperation. Li gave me a dressing
     down, declaring that I didn’t understand the complexity of the class struggle and that there was no possibility of contacting
     the author. Teng had to confess he slandered Mao, Li insisted, or at least to admit that it was a gross typo on his part.
     So I had no choice but to go on ‘investigating,’ turning myself into a mouthpiece for Mao’s famous quotation: ‘Leniency to
     those who confess their crime, and severity to those who resist.’ I tried to give advice to Teng by citing what proverbs I
     could think of, such as ‘A hero cuts his losses, for the moment’ and ‘You have to hang your head low under other’s eaves,’
     but he wouldn’t listen. A couple of days later, he committed suicide, leaving a will written in blood, with only one sentence:
     ‘A long, eternal life to Chairman Mao!’ ”
    He paused again to take a sip from the empty cup, feeling his throat suddenly dry.
    “Now, that was as an acceptable conclusion according to Li. ‘The criminal committed suicide, aware of the punishment for his
     crime.’ So that was the end of the Mao case. About two or three months later, Mao himself passed away.”
    “What a case!”
    “It was a case I could never get out of my mind.
It was just an assignment
, I’ve told myself Old Heaven alone knows how many times.
After all, millions and millions of people died like ants, like weeds, during the Cultural Revolution. Apart from shouting
     that Mao quotation to Teng, I didn’t put any extra pressure on him. I was a cop, simply doing what I was supposed to. But
     I still wonder: could I have tried to do something more? To help him, I mean. It’s a question that is like a fly, inevitably
     buzzing back to the same spot, continuously bugging me.
    “After the Cultural Revolution, there was a short period of ‘rectifying the wrong cases.’ Without talking to Party Secretary
     Li about it, I dropped in at Teng’s school one day. To my consternation, there was no ‘rectifying the wrong case’ with regard
     to Teng, because there was no case. Nothing in official record at all. He committed suicide during an unofficial investigation.
     That’s all there was about it. Disaster comes in and out of the mouth, as an old saying goes. With Mao in the background,
     no one was willing to talk about it.
    “I kept a notebook on the case, so I got hold of the books mentioned in Teng’s class notes, as well as some new publications
     about Mao. I had hoped to prove that it was Teng’s typo, so he, too, was at least partially responsible. Alternatively, that
     one of the authors had made a typo. Either way, I wouldn’t have to hold myself responsible. A deceiving and self-deceiving
     trick, you may say, like silencing a ringing bell by stuffing up one’s own ears. But the more I read, the lower my heart sank —”
    “Wait a minute, Old Hunter,” Chen interrupted at the sight of the returning waitress. “Bring more hot water.”
    “Two thermos bottles of hot water,” Old Hunter said. “We don’t serve hot water like that,” she protested weakly. “We paid
     for a private room. At least we should be able to have the tea our way.”
    After she brought the hot water as requested, Old Hunter waved the waitress out of the room, poured a cup for himself, and
     resumed.
    “About Mao’s marriages, here’s a summary of what I’ve gathered from various sources. After their marriage, Kaihui gave birth
     to three sons. In 1927, Mao went to the Jingjiang Mountains as a guerrilla
fighter, leaving Kaihui and their young children behind in the suburbs of Changsha. Less than a year later, however, Mao married
     Zizhen, who was then only seventeen, nicknamed ‘the flower of Yongxing County’ and a guerrilla fighter in the mountains. What
     proved this beyond any doubt was an article in defense of Mao’s marriage to Zizhen. It was written by a senior Party official
     and published in
History Magazine
. According to the author, it was simply another sacrifice for the revolution: Zizhen was the younger sister of a guerrilla
     leader who had arrived in the mountains earlier, so Mao had to marry her so as to consolidate the revolutionary forces there.
     ‘Any criticism of Mao’s marriage with Zizhen was irresponsible, made without proper historical perspective.’ ”
    “That’s unbelievable! Such a brazen