The Republic of Wine

of his glorious past. Who am I? I’m Ding Gou’er, a famous investigator of the provincial Higher Procuratorate. Ding Gou’er is a middle-aged man who has rocked and rolled in brothels, so he has no business going ga-ga over a woman who’s slept with a dwarf. That’s absurd! he grumbled as he took out his handkerchief to stop the flow of blood from his forehead and spat out several mouthfuls of bloody saliva. If news of my ridiculous behavior made it back to the Procuratorate, my brothers there would die laughing. He reached down to see if that critical piece of metal was still there; it was, and he felt much better. Time to go find some lodging for some food and a good night’s sleep, then back to work tomorrow. I won’t rest till I have this gang by the tails. Forcing himself to walk straight ahead, without turning back for a last look, he left the Yichi Tavern and its demonic activities behind him.
    The investigator had barely started walking down the dark lane when his feet flew out from under him and he fell backward, banging his head loudly on the cold, slippery ground. Climbing slowly to his feet, he set out again, staggering and reeling with each step he took on the rugged, icy terrain; it was the most treacherous footing he’d experienced. When he turned to glance behind him, the bright lights of Yichi Tavern filled his eyes and stabbed at his heart. Like a wild animal brought down by a hunter’s rifle, he fell to the ground with a moan; blue flames burned inside his brain, hot blood rushed to his head and swelled his skull until it seemed about to pop, like an over-inflated balloon. The forces of agony pried open his mouth; he felt like howling, but as soon as the first howl broke from his throat, it rolled and rumbled atop the stones in the roadway like a wooden-wheeled water-wagon. Prompted by the rumbling sound, his body began to roll around on the ground uncontrollably, first chasing the wooden wheels, then rolling out of the way so they wouldn’t crush him, then being transformed into a wooden wheel and fastening itself to other wooden wheels; as he rumbled along with those other wooden wheels, he could see the street, the wall, trees, people, buildings … all turning round and round, over and over, in an endless revolution, from 0° to 360°. During his tumbling performance, a sharp object jabbed him painfully in the waist. The pistol Taking it out of his waistband, he wrapped his hand around the familiar handle, and his heart began beating wildly, as past glories flooded into his mind. Ding Gou’er, how could you have fallen so low? Rolling around in the dirt like a common drunk. You’ve turned into a pile of urban garbage, and all for the sake of a woman who’s slept with a dwarf. Is it worth it? No, it isn’t! Get up, stand on your own two feet, show a little dignity! His head spun as he propped himself up with his hands. The bright lights of Yichi Tavern were very seductive. One glimpse of those bright lights ignited green flames in his brain, snuffing out the light of rationality. He turned away from those evil lights, which illuminated drug use and carnal indulgence, and shone down on monstrous crimes, as powerfully seductive as a whirlpool, while he was but a single blade of grass on the edge of that whirlpool He gouged the tender flesh of his thigh with the muzzle of his pistol, hoping to drive away the fanciful thoughts with sharp pain. On his feet again, he walked slowly into the darkness, groaning with each step.
    The narrow lane seemed to go on forever. There were no lights to show the way, but dim starlight at least lent form to the walls alongside him. Snow and rain fell more heavily in the dark night, accompanied by a soft, heart-warming rustle that hinted at pine and cypress beyond the walls, and symbolized the ghosts of individuals sacrificed over the years in this place. If tens of thousands could be martyred for the good of the people, is there any form of suffering the living cannot cast aside? By paraphrasing this famous line by Mao, the pain in his heart abated a bit. The lights of Yichi Tavern had been swallowed up behind several layers of buildings, the lane sandwiched between two stone walls had been swallowed up by his tangled thoughts; time passed inexorably, the dark night pressed onward through the icy rain and the rustlings; the barely discernible barking of a dog somewhere added to the sense of mystery in this town in the darkness of night. Without being