Yuan, who was smiling at him.
He looked down and thought for a moment before reaching in and picking up the bone.
Yuan Shikai nodded appreciatively as he walked up and patted him on the shoulder.
“Smart, very smart. The Empress Dowager Herself presented this bone to me. There is little meat left on it, but what there is has a wonderful flavor. Try it.”
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6
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With fires of rage blazing in his heart, he gripped the pistols with trembling hands and watched as Yuan Shikai negotiated the shaky gangplank with the help of his bodyguards. Strains of the welcome melody floated in the air as the senior officers fell to their knees to greet the great man. He, on the other hand, remained seated on his horse. Yuan Shikai acknowledged the greeting with a mere wave of his hand. An easy, magnanimous smile adorned his ample face as he swept the prostrated welcoming delegation with his eyes, resting in the end on the sole mounted figure. At that moment it was abundantly clear that Yuan Shikai knew, and that was part of his plan. He wanted Yuan Shikai to know who it was who killed him. He nudged his horse forward and drew one of his pistols; it took only a second for the horse’s muzzle to bump up against Yuan’s chest.
“Excellency Yuan,” he shouted, “this is to avenge the deaths of the Six Gentlemen!”
He took aim with his right hand and pulled the trigger, expecting to hear an explosion, smell gunpowder, and see the man’s head shatter, just as it had so many times in his mind’s eye. But not this time.
He drew the second pistol with his left hand, aimed, and pulled the trigger, once again expecting to hear an explosion, smell gunpowder, and see the man’s head shatter, just as it had so many times in his mind’s eye. But not this time, either.
Members of the official delegation looked on in amazement. If it had been any other than his gold-handled pistols, he would have had ample time to put bullets into every one of those future presidents and premiers, necessitating a complete rewriting of China’s recent history. But at that critical moment, his gold-handled pistols had betrayed him. Raising them to his eyes for a quick examination, he angrily flung them into the river.
“You whores!” he shouted.
Yuan Shikai’s bodyguards stormed up and dragged him down from his horse. The prostrated officers clambered to their feet, ran up, and began clawing and tearing at his body.
Yuan Shikai, unfazed, merely walked up, lightly kicked him in his face, which the guards had pressed down into the dirt, and said:
“What a shame, a true shame!”
“Excellency Yuan,” he said in an anguished voice, “you were right, a weapon is not one’s mother.”
With a smile, Yuan replied:
“Nor is it a woman.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Crevice
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1
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The day after the massacre in Masang Township, the County Magistrate sat in his document room composing a telegram to the Prefect of Laizhou, Cao Gui, the Circuit Attendant of Laiqing, Tan Rong, and the Governor of Shandong Province, Yuan Shikai, to report that the Germans had perpetrated grave crimes in Gaomi County. The tragic scene from the night before kept reappearing in front of his eyes; the wails and curses of the citizenry swirled endlessly in his ears. His brush moved across the paper like a whirlwind, as rage swelled unchecked in his breast, solemn umbrage guiding each passionate stroke. His aging legal secretary entered as if walking on eggshells and handed the Magistrate a newly received telegram. Sent by Governor Yuan Shikai to Laizhou Prefecture and forwarded to Gaomi County, it contained the Governor’s demand that the Magistrate take Sun Bing into custody and bring him to justice without delay. The Magistrate was also told to come up with five thousand taels of silver as restitution to the Germans for their losses. Finally, he was ordered to prepare compensation for the German engineer whose head had been injured in the incident, personally deliver it to the Qingdao church-run hospital, and ensure that no more such incidents arose.
The Magistrate jumped to his feet, pounded the table with his fist, and cursed, “The bastard!” Whether the curse was directed at Yuan Shikai or the German engineer was unclear, but he saw his assistant’s goatee quiver and noticed a phosphorescent glimmer in the man’s tiny eyes. He had never been fond of this secretary, but he relied heavily on him, for he was skilled at preparing indictments and appeals, was experienced and astute, knew all