Magistrate, take someone with you to the condemned cells and bring that Sun Bing here to me. I want to see for myself which is the true Sun Bing and which is a fake.”
Hardly any time passed before the soldiers returned with the corpses of four beggars and one monkey. Actually, four corpses is not quite accurate, for a gurgling sound rumbled in the throat of Zhu Ba and bloody drool formed in the shape of chrysanthemum blossoms around his mouth. I was no more than three feet away, close enough to see light streaming from his still-open eyes. It stabbed straight to my heart. Old Zhu Ba, we have been friends, more like brothers, for twenty years. I still recall how I brought my Maoqiang troupe to perform in town, and you invited me to drink three cups with you in the Temple of the Matriarch. You were obsessed with Maoqiang opera, and had already committed great portions of fine operas to memory. You had a voice like a gander, which imparted a unique quality to your singing. No one sang the old-man parts any better than you. Surges of emotion unsettle my heart when I recall the old days, my brother, and favorite lines of opera want to spill from within. I was about to burst into an operatic aria when I heard the commotion outside the hall.
The clanking of chains made its way into the hall, as Xiao Shanzi appeared in the custody of a clutch of yayi. He was wearing a ripped white robe and was shackled hand and foot. Dried blood stained his skin and clothing; his lips were cut and torn, and he was missing three teeth. Flames seemed to shoot from his eyes . . . his every step, his every move, his every gesture, were just like mine, though he had one more missing tooth than I. I was secretly shocked, seeing what a spectacular production Zhu Ba had put together. If not for that extra missing tooth, I’m sure my own mother could not have told us apart.
“Excellency,” the Magistrate came forward to report, “your humble servant has brought the foremost criminal Sun Bing to the hall.”
I watched as Yuan Shikai and von Ketteler gaped in wide-eyed amazement.
Xiao Shanzi stood straight, head up, and gave them a foolish grin.
“Insolent criminal,” Yuan Shikai thundered, “why are you not on your knees?”
“I am the great Song General,” Xiao Shanzi replied fervently in imitation of my voice. “I bow down before heaven and earth, I kneel at the feet of my parents, but nothing can make me fall to my knees in front of barbarians and mangy dogs.”
He was a natural, an actor with an ideal voice. Back when Zhu Ba had invited me to teach opera to the beggars in the Temple of the Matriarch, few of them could boast of much talent. In fact, he alone had the necessary adaptability, able to immediately grasp the essentials. I taught him to sing The Hongmen Banquet and In Pursuit of Han Xin, which he learned well, with perfect pitch and a splendid stage appearance; it was as if he were made for them. I tried to get him to join the troupe, but Zhu Ba wanted to keep him around to take over the leadership after his death.
“Good Brother Shanzi,” I said, saluting him with cupped hands, “you have been well since last we met?”
“Good Brother Shanzi,” he repeated my greeting, “you have been well since last we met?” His shackles clanked when he brought his hands together to return my salute.
How absurd, utterly preposterous that was, a performance of the true and false Monkey King there in the middle of the Great Hall!
“On your knees, condemned prisoner,” Yuan Shikai demanded majestically, “and answer my question!”
“I am like bamboo in the wind, which will break before it bends, like the mountain jade that will shatter before it is taken whole.”
“Kneel!”
“Kill me, take my head, do as you please, but I will not kneel!”
“Put him on his knees!” Yuan ordered, by now nearly apoplectic.
The yayi pounced on Xiao Shanzi like wild beasts, grabbed him by the arms, and forced him to his knees. But the minute they took their hands away, he shifted his legs out in front, just as I had done. Now we were sitting side by side. I grimaced; so did he. I glared; he did too. I said, “Shanzi, you are a scoundrel.” He said, “Shanzi, you are a scoundrel.” We