Sandalwood Death - By Mo Yan Page 0,147

Magistrate has the lovesick disease, food has lost its taste, sleep can no longer please.

He spits blood up top and passes filth down past his knees.

Gaomi’s Magistrate has a beard so long, day and night one thought only, of Sun Meiniang.

One man and one woman, Mandarin ducks made famous in song.

A pair of Mandarin ducks, yet unhappily apart, he thinks of death, she has a broken heart.

But dying and crying the First Lady will not let start.

On the children’s lips, this sounded like a message from the Magistrate, and it raised towering waves of passion in Sun Meiniang’s heart. Now that she had learned that his illness was more serious than she had feared, tears spurted from her eyes. Silently she repeated his name, over and over, and, relying upon her imagination, conjured up a vision of the damage the illness had done to his face. Dearest, she said to herself, you have fallen ill, all because of me, and if something should happen to you, I could not go on living! I am miserable, I must see you, no matter what. I need to enjoy one last decanter of spirits with you, share one last meal of dog meat. Though I know you do not belong to me, in my heart you are mine, for I have tied our fates together. I know, too, that you and I are different people, and that the things you and I think about are a million miles apart. I also know that what you feel for me is not true love, that I just happened to be there when you felt a powerful need for a woman. What you love about me is my body and my passion, and when the luster fades from my body, you will simply cast me aside. Something else I know is that you were the one who plucked my dieh’s beard clean, and that while you may steadfastly deny it, you ruined his life and brought about the destruction of Northeast Gaomi Township’s Maoqiang opera. I am aware that you vacillated about whether or not you should arrest my dieh, but that if Governor Yuan Shikai promised you a promotion and a fancy title for taking Sun Bing into custody, you would do it. If His Imperial Majesty the Emperor ordered you to kill me, you would take a knife to me without hesitation, even though it would sadden you to do so . . . I know all these things, I know everything, especially that my infatuation will end tragically, and yet that knowledge has no effect on my obsession. The truth is, you happened to be there when I felt a powerful need for a man. What I fell in love with was your appearance and your knowledge, not what was in your heart. I do not know what is in your heart, but why should I care about that? Enjoying a passionate relationship with a man like you is enough for an ordinary woman like me. Because of you, I have neither the time nor the heart to worry about my own dieh, who has suffered the grievous loss of his family. In my heart, in my flesh, in my bones there is only you. I freely admit that I am in the grip of a sickness, one that claimed me on the day I first saw you; it is a sickness every bit as serious as the one you are suffering now. You have said that I am the remedy that can cure you. Well, you are the opium that sustains me. If you die inside your yamen, I will die out here. There are many reasons why you are dying inside your yamen, and I am but one of them; but there is only one reason why I would die out here, and that is you. If I die and you do not, you will grieve over me for three days; if you die and I do not, I will grieve over you for the rest of my life. If you die, in truth my life will be over. It is an unequal transaction, in which I am a willing partner. I am your loyal dog; you need only whistle for me to come running, wagging my tail, rolling in the dirt, nipping at your heels, whatever you desire. I know that you love me the way a greedy cat loves a nice fat fish; I love you the way a

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