A Thousand Pieces of Gold (8 page)

Back in 1961, Mao confided to Field Marshal Montgomery that Liu Shaoqi was his successor and would take his place after his death. At the start of the Cultural Revolution in 1966, Liu Shaoqi was taken into custody, deprived of medical treatment, and moved to a city far away from Beijing, where he died alone in a room without any furniture. Meanwhile, Lin Biao was publicly named as Mao’s designated successor. Five years later, Mao turned against Lin Biao with the help of the Gang of Four under the direction of his wife, Jiang Qing, and Premier Zhou Enlai. Three years after Lin’s death, Mao began to criticize Zhou Enlai, accusing him of making unauthorized statements on the Taiwan issue during his talks with Henry Kissinger. Zhou was compared to Confucius as well as the merchant Lu Buwei, “slave owner and Confucian prime minister during the Qin dynasty, who assiduously promoted a conservative and reactionary political line in order to restore slavery.” At this critical juncture, Zhou became terminally ill from prostate cancer and died in early 1976. A few months later Mao followed him to the grave, still haunted by nightmarish visions of revisionism, capitalism, and the need for eternal struggle.

To his sickbed, Mao had summoned his latest designated successor, Hua Guofeng, his wife, Jiang Qing, and her three closest collaborators and said to them, “I have done two great things in my life. The first was to drive out the Japanese and Chiang Kai-shek. The second was to initiate the Cultural Revolution, which remains unfinished. Heaven knows how you are going to handle it.” Mao closed his eyes wearily and ended by quoting a proverb from a book written in the Jin dynasty (265–420
C.E.): “Gai guan lun ding,
‘only when a person is dead and the lid of his coffin closed can final judgment be passed on him.’”

Tu Qiong Bi Xian

O
ne day before my stepmother Niang’s funeral in 1990, my brother James (the executor of her will) gave me the startling news that she had suddenly and mysteriously disinherited me. Although our father had died two years earlier, Niang had prevented all of her stepchildren from reading his will. Devastated by my stepmother’s unexpected rejection and desperate to know my father’s feelings toward me, I went to Niang’s apartment with my husband, Bob, to search for Father’s will. There, rummaging through Niang’s personal belongings in her bedroom, I came across several piles of letters written by my oldest sister, Lydia, whose children we had helped to escape from Communist China and educate in America
against Niang’s wishes. To my shock and dismay, I found that instead of gratitude and affection, Lydia’s letters were full of lies and venom, inciting Niang to hate me. After reading them, I had no doubt that Niang had disinherited me because of Lydia’s defamation.

I remember feeling nauseated and dizzy while a pain in my chest gripped me like a vice. Then Bob shouted from his side of Niang’s bedroom. He had found my father’s will.

Father’s intentions were radically different from those of Niang. He had included me and had meant to give me the same share of his estate as two of my brothers. At that specific moment, reading Father’s words soothed me as nothing else could have done. It was almost as if he had raised himself out of his grave to console me for the savage blow from my sister, whose deviousness I had just uncovered. I heard once more my father’s voice, saying urgently over and over,
“Tu qiong bi xian,
‘when the map is unrolled, the dagger is revealed.’ Now you know the reason for your disinheritance.”

At certain defining moments throughout history, the consciousness of the world has been transformed by a singular horrific event. In describing such an incident, the Chinese might use the proverb
tu qiong bi xian,
“when the map is unrolled, the dagger is revealed,” especially if the upheaval involved an element of surprise. As mentioned before, while it is common for Chinese people to think in metaphors and apply lessons from history to current events, certain American sayings also embody this quality. The terms
Pearl Harbor
and
Kennedy’s assassination
are two examples of metaphors that conjure images that resonate in the national consciousness, so much so that many people still recall exactly what they were doing when they first heard the news of these calamities.

On September 11, 2001, our daughter Ann called from New York to tell us of the suicide plane crashes in that city. In the days following, the images of the blazing World Trade Center did not leave our minds. My husband, Bob, noted that the words
September 11
would probably evolve into a new American metaphor. For the rest of our lives, Americans will be asking one another, “What were you doing on September 11 when you heard the news?”

Ann was the first to ask me this question. I told her that I had been reading an account of a political assassination that happened 2200 years ago, and I was trying to choose an appropriate proverb for the chapter heading. On hearing this, Ann surprised me with two questions: “Why do you like proverbs so much, Mom? Do you think in proverbs?”

They were excellent questions. I told her that I would think about them before answering her by letter.

The following passage, extracted from
Shiji,
was the text I was working on when Ann phoned:

Crown Prince Dan of Yan had been born in Handan, capital of Zhao, about the same time as King Zheng. Their fathers were both political hostages and used to live close to each other. The two boys played together as children and became boyhood chums.

King Zheng returned to Qin at the age of ten when his father ascended the throne. Three years later he himself became king at the death of his father. The two boys grew into manhood, and when they were in their twenties Prince Dan was sent as a political hostage to Qin. In spite of their boyhood friendship, King Zheng was cold and cruel to Prince Dan. The latter became upset and fled back to Yan. On his return, he searched for someone who would avenge his humiliation. However, his state was small and weak while Qin was rich and powerful.

Soon after Prince Dan’s return to Yan, King Zheng began moving his troops east of the mountains to invade the unconquered states. Gradually, Qin soldiers approached the borders of the state of Yan. Because the rulers and ministers of Yan were all greatly worried at the prospect of a war with Qin, Crown Prince Dan conferred with his tutor, Ju Wu, for advice. But the grand tutor was unable to provide a satisfactory solution.

Some months later, Fan Yuqi, a Qin general who had led an unsuccessful rebellion against King Zheng, defected to Yan as a fugitive and begged Prince Dan for asylum. The prince received him graciously and gave him shelter. The grand tutor protested and gave warning: “You must not do this. The King of Qin is legendary for his cruelty and vengefulness. Even if he should merely dislike you without cause, everyone in Yan would already be in danger. That thought alone is sufficient to make one shiver
in the height of summer! How much worse when he learns that you are actually harboring General Fan in our state! Your action is akin to baiting a hungry tiger by throwing meat in his path. The resulting bloodbath will be disastrous.

“Instead of keeping General Fan here, you should send him up north and hand him over to the Huns. By transferring General Fan to the barbarians, you will be sure to please the King of Qin and perhaps ward off invasion.”

The crown prince refused. He said, “General Fan was in grave peril when he threw himself at me and begged for my mercy. Never, until the day I die, could I abandon the ties of compassion and surrender him to the savage and barbarian Huns simply out of fear of retaliation from King Zheng. If I should stoop so low, it would surely be time for me to die. Will you please reconsider and come up with an alternate plan?”

The grand tutor was much distressed. He sighed and said, “To bind yourself so tightly to a single desperate man without considering the consequences will certainly bring disaster to our entire state. You are inviting retribution and risking retaliation from King Zheng, the most powerful man in the world. What else is there to talk about?”

The prince was silent for so long that the grand tutor felt pity for him. As the tutor rose from his mat to take his leave, an idea suddenly struck him and he said, “Perhaps Your Highness might like to consult my friend, the scholar Tian Guang. He is old and in poor health, but he is wise and has a big heart.”

The prince summoned Scholar Tian to his palace. He personally welcomed the elderly scholar at the door and led him inside. When the two were alone, the prince knelt respectfully in front of the old man and dusted off the mat for him to sit on. He moved close to him and said, “The states of Yan and Qin cannot coexist. Will you, sir, please ponder on this and give me advice?”

“Your Highness may have heard falsely that I am still in my prime. Alas! I have long ago lost the bloom of youth and become old. But that is no excuse to neglect the affairs of state that are of such urgency. I am much honored that Your Highness considers me sufficiently worthy to be consulted.

“Among my friends is a man named Jing Ke, commonly known as Master Jing. He likes to drink at the marketplace, read books, and handle
the sword. Originally he came from the state of Wei, but, as you know, that state has largely been annexed by Qin and is now mostly under the command of King Zheng. Master Jing has become stateless and wanders from place to place looking for employment. He holds little love for King Zheng.

“Although he likes to drink too much and mingles with butchers and musicians, he is a learned scholar and loves books. When he first came here I invited him to stay, and he lived at my home for some time. His friends are all talented, upright, and honest. Master Jing is not an ordinary man. It is most unusual for a scholar to be so expert at handling the sword. Your Highness should get to know him.”

The crown prince listened carefully and replied, “I would like very much to meet him. Can you arrange this?”

Scholar Tian inclined his head and said, “Your wish is my command. I respectfully obey.” He rose from his mat, and the prince escorted him to the gate. As they bade each other good-bye, the prince added, “What we have discussed today are important matters of state. Please do not divulge them to anyone.”

Scholar Tian nodded and said, “I will not.”

The old scholar summoned Master Jing and said, “Prince Dan wishes to see you in his palace. You should go there at once.” As Master Jing prepared to leave, Scholar Tian added, “I have heard that when an elderly gentleman carries out a mission, he should not cause others to doubt him. But today the prince said to me, ‘Please do not divulge what we have discussed.’ This means that His Highness does not have full confidence in me.” At this point Scholar Tian hesitated and looked at Master Jing intently. Deciding to impress upon the young man the gravity of the situation and spur him into action, he continued, “Please go quickly to the palace and inform His Highness that I have already died. That way he will be reassured that I have neither spoken nor revealed his secret.” Then he slashed his own throat and died.

Master Jing was shocked and tried to save him, but it was too late. He hurried to see the prince and informed him of the old man’s suicide. Prince Dan was saddened and went to pay his respects.

At the sight of Scholar Tian’s body, the crown prince bowed twice, knelt, approached on his knees, and wept. Then he said, “The reason I told him not to speak was because I did not want him to jeopardize my plans.
And now he has used his suicide to show me that he obeyed my instruction. It was certainly not my intention for him to do this. I am devastated.”

The two mourned the old man together. Then the prince opened up to Master Jing. “Yan is weak and has suffered greatly from war,” he said. “Even if I were to conscript my entire state, our forces would not be sufficient to oppose Qin. My secret scheme is to engage one of the world’s bravest and strongest men and dispatch him to Qin. There is a remote possibility that he might succeed in kidnapping King Zheng and forcing him to return all the territory of the feudal lords that he has appropriated in the past. Wouldn’t that be splendid? But even if that were impossible, he could just go ahead and stab him to death. With the death of King Zheng, there would be no central commander. When Qin’s armies learn that the feudal lords from all the other states are joining together and sending a mighty united force against Qin, they will become confused since they lack direction from the top. Each Qin general will want to be the supreme commander, and a power struggle will ensue. Then Qin will surely be defeated.”

Master Jing was at first reluctant and protested that his capabilities were limited. But Prince Dan reminded him of the suicide of his benefactor, Scholar Tian, who had gallantly given up his life for the cause. The prince bowed humbly before the designated assassin and pressed him not to betray his old friend’s trust or render his suicide meaningless. There was a long pause. Then Master Jing finally consented.

The prince was delighted and immediately gave him the title of a high dignitary. He lodged him in a well-appointed house and showered him with gold and privileges. Every day the prince visited him, giving him carriages, horses, beautiful women, jewels, rare objects, and whatever Master Jing might desire so as to satisfy his every whim.

After some days of reflection, Master Jing said to the prince, “In order to be admitted into the court of King Zheng and come face-to-face with him, we must tempt him by the promise of great profit. Now the King of Qin has offered a reward of 1000 catties of gold and the revenue from 10,000 households for the capture of General Fan. If we could find a way to get hold of General Fan’s head and present it to King Zheng along with a map of Yan’s District of Dukang, then His Majesty would be sure to admit me and grant me an audience. Thus will I get the opportunity to serve Your Highness and avenge the hatred you hold against him.”

But the prince replied, “General Fan came to me as a last resort, in poverty and distress. I am unwilling to violate his trust merely to fulfill my selfish desires. Will you, sir, please come up with another scheme?”

Master Jing turned the matter over in his mind and made his own plans without revealing them to the prince. He sought out General Fan, and the two men met in private.

“King Zheng’s treatment of you cannot be said to have been kind,” Master Jing began. “I hear that your father, mother, and entire family have all been beheaded. And now there is a reward of 1000 catties of gold and the revenue of 10,000 households offered for your capture. Tell me, sir, do you intend to do anything about all this?”

General Fan heaved a great sigh and wept bitterly. “Day after day I think about this and suffer constantly. I grit my teeth, and the pain seeps into my heart and marrow. But every plan I consider seems full of fallacies. Truly, sir, I do not know what to do.”

Master Jing stared at the general and said, “I hold on my tongue a single word that will accomplish all that you desire. It will free Yan from its ordeal and avenge your hatred. How about it?”

The general leaned toward him and asked, “What is that word?”

Jing Ke replied, “
Head!
” There was a long silence as the word sank in. Then Master Jing continued, “I should like to have your head in a box to present to the King of Qin. Then His Majesty will be delighted and will be sure to grant me an audience. With my left hand I will grab his left sleeve. With my right hand I will stab his chest with a dagger. That way, you will have achieved all your goals, including the repayment of your debt to the prince who is risking his own life to give you shelter.”