Becoming Madame Mao - Anchee Min [134]
There is one important man the media has been neglecting. It is Kang Sheng. He is terminally ill and suffers from paranoia. In Mao's distance he senses Jiang Ching's downfall. He doesn't want to go down with her. He has played an ambiguous role between the Maos. Mao is not unaware that Kang Sheng has provided Jiang Ching with crucial information that helped her get where she is. To demonstrate his dismay Mao has stopped responding to Kang Sheng's letters and notes.
The man with the goat beard is scared. He has spent his life pleasing the emperor and is now facing dishonor and termination.
I have a terribly important message for you to pass on to the Chairman. From his sickbed Kang Sheng speaks to Mao's personal messengers, Mao's niece Wang Hai-rong, the vice minister of diplomacy, and Tang Wen-sheng, Mao's trusted translator. So many years I have withheld this information. I am near the end of my life and I feel that I owe the Party the truth: Jiang Ching and Chun-qiao are traitors. The record has been destroyed, but the truth remains.
The mouths of the two women hang open.
I would have visited the Chairman myself if he had wanted to hear me, Kang Sheng says in tears. It's just that there isn't much time for me to work for him anymore. He must realize my loyalty.
Kang Sheng shuts his eyes and lies back on his pillow. Now take out your notebooks and record carefully. I shall prove that I am good for the Chairman for the last time.
In a fading voice Kang Sheng produces the year, date, witnesses and the location of Madame Mao Jiang Ching's betrayal.
I disregard my opposition. Kang Sheng can't put me lower than I am. I am working to get closer to the stiffening Mao. He's got to open his jaw and spell my name to the nation. I will try everything. Whatever it takes. Thankfully I find a helper. He is Mao's nephew, Mao Yuan Xin. I let him know that his Aunt Jiang Ching is willing to adopt him as the prince of the kingdom. The man expresses his willingness, and he takes no time making himself trustworthy in his uncle's eyes. Now I don't have to fight the guards and will be able to send messages directly to Mao through Xin.
My enemies and I are racing against Mao's breath. I am no longer aware of the hours or days. I no longer have an appetite. My senses are focused on one thing: the movement of Mao's mouth. Although I have convinced myself that his love for me is long dead, I still wish for a miracle. I've asked Xin to wait by his uncle around the clock with a tape recorder and a camera. I am waiting for Mao's sudden recollection of his prime. There he might see me again and remember to honor this love. I need this now desperately. I need his finger touch. His phrase "Jiang Ching represents me" will settle everything. A dragon's one movement covers a seahorse's ten years traveling. It will save and heal me. I have been even thinking about an alternative. With Mao's words I might retire. I am over sixty. Looking into the future is no longer my biggest interest. Honor, however, I must not live without. I am Jiang Ching, the love of Mao's life.
But he won't do it for me. He will not pronounce my name again. His silence has become the permission for others to force me to vanish; to murder me in cold blood. No matter how hard I try to paint black pink, the truth speaks loudly for itself. Mao is determined to carry on his betrayal. He wants to punish me for being who I am. He wants to blame me for his mistress Shang-guan Yun-zhu's death. He has marked me his enemy.
Then why bother to order a graveyard built for both of us at Ba-bo Hill Funeral Home? Why lie next to me instead of Zi-zhen or Kai-hui? Or Shang-guan Yun-zhu? I will never want to record again the way you used to love me. My eyes hurt from crying for your warmth at night. Why don't you lie by yourself after all this hatred for me?
***
In the thickening snow of January 1976, Premier Zhou passes away. He had played against the political stream by appearing slow and foolish, blind and deaf. So many times he offered toasts to the demons.