The Mao Case

excuse.”
    “Whatever the excuse, Mao married Zizhen — an act of undeniable bigamy. In the mountains, he lost himself in the cloud and
     rain of her youthful, supple body, which bore a daughter for him that same year.”
    “But Mao could have been lonely in the mountains, or lost in a moment of passion,” Chen said. “It might not be fair to judge
     him on one episode in his personal life.”
    “Whatever he did as the supreme Party leader is not for me to judge. I was simply looking into what he did as a man to his
     women.”
    “Perhaps Mao believed Kaihui had already died.”
    “No, that’s not true. Kaihui knew nothing about his betrayal, and had someone carry handmade cloth shoes to him. She also
     asked several times to join him in the mountains, but he always said no. Like in a Suzhou opera line, he heard only the new
     one’s laughter, not the old one’s weeping. And there’s something else,” he said, sipping at his tea, deliberately, like wine.
     “Something you will not believe.”
    “Oh, the climax of the Suzhou opera is finally coming,” Chen said nodding, like a loyal audience.
    “At first, the nationalists in Changsha didn’t bother Kaihui and her children. In 1930 though, when Mao led a siege of the
     city of Changsha, the situation changed drastically. Kaihui and her children were in danger. Mao should have moved them out
     of the city, but no rescue
effort whatsoever was made. The siege lasted about twenty days, and Mao and his troops were close to where she was, but he
     did nothing. He didn’t even try to contact her.
    “After the siege failed, the nationalists retaliated and arrested her. They wanted her to sign a statement cutting all ties
     with Mao, but she refused. She was executed in 1930. It was said that she was dragged barefoot to the execution grounds — according
     to a local superstition, her ghost would therefore be unable to find her way back to home, to Mao.”
    “What a horrible story!” Chen exclaimed, picking up the teacup but putting it back down right away. “And what an old hunter
     you really are to have dug up all that information!”
    “I am not saying that Mao had her killed on purpose. But it’s not too much to say that he was responsible for her death. He
     should have thought about the consequences.”
    “Now I understand something Mao said years later,” Chen said, “ ‘For the death of Kaihui, I could not atone by dying hundreds
     of times.’ He must have written that poem to her out of guilt.”
    “I’ve discussed the poem with an old friend, a senior history teacher, who has done extensive research on Mao, and not just
     about his personal life. He called Mao a man of snake and spider heart, and he believed that Mao got rid of Kaihui that way
     because he couldn’t afford to let the two women confront each other in the mountains. There is no ruling that out as a possibility,
     and he actually did similar things to his comrades in the Party.”
    “Well, people have opinions and opinions.”
    “I don’t want to dwell on it, but the memory of the Mao case has haunted me all these years. When Yu came back to Shanghai
     as an ‘ex-educated youth,’ I took early retirement so that he could start working at the bureau in my place. That was the
     main reason, of course, but there was another. The Mao case. Because of it, I am not a worthy cop. We’ve known each other
     for many years, Chief, but I have never told you about this case. Nor anybody else, not even Yu. It’s a rock on my heart.”
    “You did all you could. It was the Cultural Revolution. Why be so
hard on yourself?” Chen said with emotion in his voice. “I really appreciate your telling me about the case. It is not only
     a lesson about how to be a conscientious policeman, but also an enormous help on the assignment I’m going to discuss with
     you.”
    “An assignment concerning Mao, I suppose. What can I do to help?”
    “You’re so perceptive. Now you have talked to me about your case, I don’t think I should have any hesitation in talking to
     you about mine. You’ve helped more than you can imagine.”
    “What do you mean, Chief Inspector Chen?”
    “I’ve been assigned to my own Mao case, to use the name you called yours. It doesn’t concern him directly, and I’m full of
     doubts and reservations. For one thing, I used to like his poems, like the one for Kaihui, without knowing anything about
     the real background. So I could hardly bring myself to