The Republic of Wine

the ranks of cadres in our party have produced a degenerate like you!’
    Ding: ‘I’m a degenerate because I seduced your wife. That’s degeneracy. But there are people who cook and eat little boys. And you can’t be degenerate if you aren’t even human! That’s bestiality!’
    ‘Ha ha ha…’ Diamond Jin clapped his hands and laughed gleefully. ‘This is just like The Arabian Nights? he said when he finally stopped laughing. ‘Here in Liquorland, we have a famous culinary dish of extraordinary imagination and creativity. Members of the Central Government have tried it, so have you. Therefore, if we’re cannibalistic beasts, then you are too.’
    With a sneer, Ding Gou’er said, ‘If you have a clear conscience, why find it necessary to lure me into a sex-trap?’
    ‘Only Higher-Procuratorate scum like you have the perverse imagination to come up with a thought like that!’ Diamond Jin replied angrily. ‘Now I’d like to report to your honor on behalf of our city’s Party Committee and municipal government: We welcome Investigator Ding Gou’er of the Higher Procuratorate to our city. We are prepared to offer every assistance.’
    ‘You could easily block my investigation, you know,’ Ding Gou’er said.
    Diamond Jin patted his pocket. ‘What we have here, to be precise, is two willing fornicators. But even though your behavior has been despicable, you have broken no laws. And even though I have the power to send you crawling back to where you came from, like a lowly dog, individual interests must be subordinated to public interests, so I will not stop you from carrying out your mission.’
    Diamond Jin opened his liquor cabinet, took out a bottle of Maotai, unscrewed the cap, and poured two tau glasses, emptying the bottle. He offered one to Ding Gou’er and raised the other in a toast: ‘Here’s to a successful investigation!’ he said, clinking glasses with Ding Gou’er. He tossed his head back, and drank the liquor in one gulp. Holding up the now empty glass, he stared at Ding Gou’er, cheek twitching, eyes shining.
    The sight of that twitching cheek muscle enraged Ding Gou’er, who held out his glass and, come hell or high water, drank every last drop.
    ‘Good for you!’ Diamond Jin shouted approvingly. ‘Now you’re acting like a real man!’ Returning to the liquor cabinet, he removed an armful of liquor bottles, all name brands. ‘Now let’s see who’s the better man,’ he said, pointing to the bottles, which he deftly opened and began pouring from. Splashes of liquor turned the air aromatic. ‘Anyone who doesn’t drink is the son of a whore!’ With his cheek twitching uncontrollably by now, Diamond Jin abandoned his sophisticated veneer in favor of a hardened, alcoholic look. ‘Are you up to it?’ he challenged, throwing his head back and emptying his glass. On and on the cheek twitched. ‘Some people would rather be known as the son of a whore than drink a little liquor!’
    ‘Who said I won’t drink?’ Ding Gou’er picked up his glass. Glug-glug - he drained it. A skylight opened up in his scalp and his consciousness was transformed into a demonic butterfly the size of a moon-shaped fan; it began to dance in the lamplight. ‘Drink … fuck your mothers, all of them, drink every drop of Liquorland’s …’ He saw his hand grow to the size of a prayer mat and sprout a mass of fingers that reached out to the liquor bottles, which shrank to the size of carpentry nails, embroidery needles, then suddenly swelled to the size of large goblets, metal buckets, mallets. The lamplight changed, the butterfly tumbled in the air. Only the twitching cheek muscle stayed true to form. Drink! Liquor lubricates like honey. His tongue and gullet felt unimaginably good, better than words can describe. Drink! He sucked it up as fast as he could, then watched the clear liquid slip soothingly down his brown, twisting gullet. His feelings soared, following the contours of the wall.
    Diamond Jin moved slowly in the lamplight, then took off abruptly, a virtual comet. The expression on his face cut a swath through the golden aura of the room like a razor-sharp saber, opening up a patchwork of seams in which he moved freely, slipping and sliding, until, just as abruptly, he vanished.
    The multi-hued butterfly looked worn out, its wings getting heavier and heavier, as if weighted down by morning dew. Finally it settled on one of the chandelier arms, its antennae trembling tragically as