Scene 1

Dead. What a bother this is - another one dead. But at least this one has not left a posterity to complicate things.

Brilliant. More brilliant than you were, Pao Ch’in. Indeed, this is reward for my diligence and hard work. This is a good find indeed. I had forgotten that you had this and when I look at it in a better light and on a better finger, I will not think of you Pao Ch’in. I don’t think anyone will ever think of you Pao Ch’in.

(Enter Mao Fei. Xin Ch’u quickly hides the ring in his robes.)

Xin Ch’u, is there anything amiss?

Pao Ch’in is dead, that’s all!

The superintendent is dead?

Dead!

This is most inconvenient - most inconvenient, indeed! But are you sure?

Most assuredly, Pao Ch’in is dead.

Pao Ch’in is dead!! Or I should say was dead. (thoughtfully) O! That would mean he is alive - but he is dead, I can most assuredly state that case. Pao Ch’in died - and that is a good thing for this story, for without his death, my master would not have taken his place as the Superintendent of Su-chou. Timing is everything! With death comes vacancies - and as my master, the revered (bows) scholar Li K’ai-men, had just passed the regional examinations for office with the highest possible grade, he was marked to receive an immediate posting to a position sufficiently grand for such an achievement. So Pao Ch’in’s end became Li K’ai-men’s beginning.

I was but a pup then - attending my master as he took the exams. What did I know? I, K’u Ko-ling, son of K’u Fei, a lowly son of the soil from Gui-lin. All I knew was what my master taught me - to mix the ink, to prepare the brushes, to boil the soup, to pay the whoremistress, and . . . (laughing) and I loved to spy on that . . ho, ho. And I could tell you more, but maybe a little later. Little did I know how much I would learn in service to a great scholar and a man of high governmental rank.

Yes, yes - my master, Li K’ai-men was to be to the superintendant of Su-chou. What a position - to rule over so important a district. Generally a first appointment would be some shit-hole in An-hui or a cold, ball-chilling hut on the Yen border. But not for my master. He drew the bastard plum - Su-chou!!! And I think that Pao Ch’in’s death was for the best. I didn’t know the man - nor would he have known me; but I feel so intimately grateful for the man for passing on to his ancestors that I well up with joy when I think of his life - long and healthy - fat and greasy - sated and mated until the end. For never was there such a well-deserved and well-timed death as his.

All in our hometown, Gui-lin, heard of my master’s success; and soon the lowliest merchant spoke of it. There was rejoicing at the Academy and every tenant in the valley cheered his health. It was not every day that a Gui-lin son achieved first place in the exams. Indeed not! There were some scholars who came in fifth or sixth - but indeed, not first. Such was the accomplishment of my master, Li K’ai-men. And we were now to travel to Chiang-nan province, to the city of Yang-chou, where my master would meet his overlord, the Governor of Chiang-nan. Ah yes! An important step. Soon, the citizens of Yang-chou also knew of Li K’ai-men’s achievements and toasted his health.

But in Su-chou, my master left no impression at all. They didn’t even know his name. No one even bothered to tell the people that Pao Ch’in was dead. The clerks who found his body shipped what remained up river to his hometown. Pao Ch’in left no mark on the city of Su-chou - nor had the previous five superintendents. They come and go, like the tide on Lake T’ai - only without a ripple. Superintendents were not really that important. The clerks ran the world.

Scene 2

Ah! Mao Fei. I have a letter from K’ang Yu-wei.

Yes, yes and what does the governor say? What are the orders?

They are sending us a boy!

A boy? Not an old man this time, or a sleepy painter? Remember that boring fart they sent here . . .

During the ching-t’ien years. I recall, that was P’ing Hu. He did paint well, not that I could care. Do you remember that scholar . . . what’s his name, Chao Pei-yen, who P’ing Hu hired to clean the brushes and mix the inks? I could never understand with all the clerks worthy to assume such a role why P’ing Hu hired him.

That was a haughty little pest. I remember once I told him we were assembled to discuss the cases of the day and to tell P’ing Hu we were attending him. The little man actually told me that P’ing could not be disturbed until the bamboo was brushed and the plum blossoms were stroked. When I told him to announce me, he said he would not and threatened to paint my nose green. And when I complained, P’ing Hu just looked at me as if I were mad.

Well at least Pao Ch’in just collected things. He was a lousy painter. He once stroked a cat to silk and it looked more like a mangy jackass. No he just collected things.

I assumed you wanted me to list all the items for the usual rewards to Pao Ch’in’s most faithful stewards and advisors.

It’s odd how these officials spend their entire lives striving for learning, preparing for examinations, making long journeys to sit for days in cramped quarters and write essay after essay like slaves - to achieve the smallest crumb from His Majesty’s larder. Yet, we are the caretakers and inherit their crumbs - and all that it is, is reading and writing . . .

And good judgment and management. I work very hard for my little gains, you know. You are very unfair to suggest that what I do is easy and over-rewarded.

Calm yourself, Mao Fei. You are invaluable to me and the running of this Ya-men - and you shall get your share. But now, they send us a boy!

A boy! We will need to work harder.

Not harder. He will need our guidance and advice - but he is inexperienced and only knows what he’s learned in the academy and from the classics. And he is not quite a boy, but a first appointment. It says here, he has won first place in the Regional Examination at Chang-sha.

That means he can read and write . . .

Haughty clerks to dare laugh at my master. These fat men laugh at their own wit and will be shaken by their own wit.

Nevertheless, Mao Fei, we must accord the Imperial will some respect. His name is Li K’ai-men. He is from Gui-lin.

Gui-lin? Is any one ever from Gui-lin?

Save your humor for your wife. There is much to do, and it is a good thing we know how to do it. Inform the others of the new superintendent’s arrival. Have his name posted in the town. Send the postern to the village elders so they can tell the Pao-t’ien. And let’s give the gardens a sweep. It says he will have his wife here and the Willow Pavilion is a bit of a mess.

A wife? Some boy this - a married man.

You know how it is with these young scholars. They marry quickly before they leave for the examinations. I am sure they have had a brief time of it. And that they have been separated while he was taking the examination - he in Ch’ang-sha - she in Gui-lin, he will be quite content to enjoy his married life and leave the business of government to us.

But my master had other things on his mind. I remember it well. We traveled for five weeks from Ch’ang-sha to the regional capital at Yang-chou, where my master was to meet his superior, the Governor of Chiang-nan and be confirmed in the post. I had become a real crafty person by then - handling all sorts of arrangements - boats, trackers, food, clothing, local officials and elders - they all crumbled under my superior management of my master’s establishment. I could, and still can get a starving man to sell me a flea off his ass in a famine for something copper that would be his death. I am that good at it.

Scene 3:

So, you are Li K’ai-men?

Yes, my lord.

So young and refined. Are you ready to govern a city of 35,000 households and 95 districts? Are you that resourceful?

I am, my lord.

And how do you know? How has fortune lifted her hands and touched your noodle to say, "this is the very man for the job." How? You have written pretty prose and I am sure you turn out fine poetry. But, how will that help you cope?

The discipline of the eight-legged essay is a form, which captures all moths to its light. It taps the wisdom of the classics, which teaches us how to rule and govern. It breathes free over the written word, each stroke drawing on precedent and making precedent - and thereby we are never really beginning or ending - but part of the everlasting chain. And in the rituals . . .

Has she?

My lord, if she followed my bidding, she shall be in Su-chou by the time I arrive.

Good! It will be good to have a lady in the Ya-men at Su-chou once again. I so dislike not having a lady in the loveliest of our gardens. You know, a garden without a women is a lotus shorn of petals. Pao Ch’in was a good man, but he should have taken another wife or two instead of closing the Willow Pavilion. I have been informed by the Chief Scribe, some minion named Xin Ch’u, that the Willow Pavilion has been reopened and restored. Yes, it will be good to have a lady once again in Su-chou. And once you’re settled in, in a year or two, I shall come ‘round and visit you, eh? What do you think of that?

As your lord pleases.

As your lord pleases? What’s this stiff formality? Do you know who I am?

You are K’ang Yu-wei, Governor of Chiang-nan, Master of the Imperial Antiquary and Superintendent- General of Yang-chou. Your teacher was Ou Yang-xu.

You know me well; but, know this. I have escaped from the jaws of death itself and know the kindness of His Majesty, may he live ten thousand years. I have also seen scholars come and go. If you are up to it young pup, you will administer your assignment well; but remember who I am and what I can do! Have you any questions?

None

You know I am a close friend to your teacher, Han Lin.

Yes, my lord.

And how was your teacher when you last saw him?

Very well, in good health.

You certainly don’t display any of his pluck! Yet, somehow you cannot survive Han Lin and come out first in the exams and be void of pluck! I am glad you are showing me the deference due me - but when I come to visit you, I want some pluck - and better tales about my old friend Han Lin.

Respect these words! (hands him the paper).

Now, I trust your manservant has made arrangements for your portage to Su-chou.

He has.

I had.

Good - and as a gift, you will have a procession of drummers to herald your approach.

Thank you my lord.

Well, master Li, you start out on a noble journey. I recall my own first step - not as big and brave as yours. Just a small district near K’ai-feng. But it was there that I met my third wife; and there was a teahouse mirrored on Lake Pien-fu, when the moon was full and the breeze was musty with jasmine. I would court with the ladies there I would. For a small district, it suited me fine. To be at the start of things would be nice again, instead of thinking about sunsets. (sighs) But I will go to Su-chou to visit that Willow Pavilion and watch over Han Lin’s chick. Ah, it would be nice to be at the start again . . .

And the drums banged out our journey to Su-chou. We walked through the streets of Yang-chou - it was a regular parade. People gathered to see our procession. Attendants held signs to the crowd that "here passes the new Superintendent of Su-chou." All manner of stuff was thrown at us - for luck of course - but all those red paper bits in my hair and a few in my eyes. I was glad when we were out of the city and in the countryside.

And then the fields were vast and unending. It was not long before I wished were back in the city (yawning). Oh yes, the farmers looked up, nodded their greeting and grunted a welcome. The little field brats were more curious and, playing silly games, ran in between the drummers.

And some villages were burned, as if they we attacked by an army. There was debris all about. Then on the second day we came to the town of Lin-t’ien. The town was flooded. There was nothing left but the wails of women and children. Everywhere there were dead animals and . . . the heat. The very heat boils my blood to think of it. The path was washed away and we detoured from the main road.

That night we stopped at a small village called Chi-lin-t’ien. The elder greeted us and babbled on about something. Unfortunately, the dialect was so thick my master scarcely understood him. Luckily there was a scholar there named Fu Lin-t’o, a young man who we understood very clearly - and came to understand even clearer.

Scene 4:

Pardon our humble fare, your excellency, but this is a small town and this is the best the village could afford for your arrival. My father is the richest man of the district. But as you can, see we are not very rich indeed.

Rich enough to educate his son as a literary man.

Literate, my lord - not literary.

Nonetheless, you do not need to apologize for the food, even though I am not sure what I have eaten, but I am sure it will not stay with me long.

Mud and grass! Uh!

Uh! More like shit and paper!

A local specialty these days. Not much left to us. Not much left.

But the fields around us are luxuriant. Looks like a bumper crop?

Ah, but there’s Ch’ien Mu.

Ch’ien Mu?

Ch’ien Mu the pirate - the brigand - the murderer. His band comes through twice a month and demands most of our stores. If we refuse, he’ll burn the place down - not that he hasn’t beat my father and raped my sister already - and other things I could tell you.

This explains a great deal. We have seen so much distress on our journey. It looked like armies were roving from place to place. And even a flood.

That would be Lin-t’ien. We heard that Ch’ien Mu cut the dike near the river and the town is underwater. I tell you, my lord, Ch’ien Mu has left us all starving and distressed. There’s disease everywhere. The oxen die in the fields.

This is appalling. And what has the authority done to catch him?

Yes, what? You sir are now the authority here. This town is in your district.

Yes, but I am just arriving. What has been done before this?

Some wine, my lord?

You have wine? You serve us grass and you have wine?

Forgive me, but it’s a scholar’s fancy. When I think of these things and I see the pain in the village - I sit in the corner and muse at the cobwebs - and then only a cup of wine will help kill the pain.

So this is the balm you administer to yourself. You don’t count it as victual and therefore would never think to offer it to a visiting official, except to soothe his pain.

You glare at me - Are you fascinated by my sweat and stench? This weather of yours is most wretched. (drinks)

It is no man’s weather, my lord. This miasma rolls in off the marshes and lies on our chests like a burning coal. When I can’t sleep at night, I often run to the village creek and strip off, jump in and hope that it will cool me.

And does it?

Never. The creek is as boiling as the air. But sometimes a minnow will scurry by between my legs and tickle me - and that softens the crushing heat a bit. Don’t you think if a minnow were to scurry between your legs, you’d cool down a bit.

And you have a wife?

It matters not to me. But, more wine, my lord.

You’ll have me drunk.

Oh, you did not know that my master had wide variety in his bedding practices. Many a woman was tickle by his . . . well, I paid the whoremistresses; - and remember, I got to watch (chuckles). But there was a colleague in Gui-lin and a sailor on board our boat as we journeyed to Ch’ang-sha. The boat really rocked that night.

And then there was Min Kuo-lu, a friend my master made at the examinations. They both celebrated after the exams with lots of wine - and had a merry time under their robes, I can grant you that. That was a four-day celebration, and such wonders I witnessed as I kept them both in soup and noodles I could write in a little history - that is, if I could write. But, I have always preferred the women - but then again, I am a piss ant. Nonetheless, this little evening with the local, young scholar, Fu Lin-t’o was different, because in the morning, Fu joined our little procession to Su-chou.

And so it went - day after day - town after town - horrible meal after horrible meal until, finally, on the fourth day of the journey, we reached the gates of Su-chou - and there was a great feast spead out for us.

Scene 5:

Master, this is good food, at last!

K’u, it’s about time you managed it! (K’u looks worried). Ah! Calm yourself. Now if you could only arrange for better weather. This heat is still so unbearable. Fu Lin-t’o, is it always like this?

Worse sometimes - sometimes better. It depends on how much wine you drink. To think we eat snake soup in the winter to heat our blood - but when summer comes, there’s nothing we can spear, boil and muster up to cool the blood. There’s a local recipe for kale jelly, which they say when taken on a spoon will cool you down considerably. But I also hear the stuff is so vile that the wretching makes you hotter still.

How concise! Well at least the food here is an improvement.

I might say that you are dressed a bit unseasonably.

Amused?

It’s doing you no good if the breeze is kept out.

Outside the tent was just as humid. However, I remember, there was just a little refreshing breeze that kissed my crotch and danced about my ass. I felt free to at least enjoy the equality of the moment. But I also remember a nose, burning stench.

(to Fu) What is that smell? Why do fires burn in the city? It’s too hot for a cooked meal today - and I certainly hope this is not some misguided ceremonial on my behalf. It’s not this Ch’ien Mu in Su-chou itself?

Most unlikely, my lord. More likely there is disease in the city and they are burning their dead -

Oh nature help us, such a crime against heaven -

But, whether correct or not, it somehow helps control it. And although they do not go to their ancestors intact, their spirits are free to roam the earth ---

It is death you choke on, Ko-ling! Sad souls, going to the Jade Emperor in pieces.

Give me the air of Gui-lin - the fresh mountain breezes and the smell of the cooking chili pots. Give me the willowy pine and the blue-bird - and the swell, loving kiss of the wind on Lake Li. Give me an outhouse in the rain - anything but that wretched smell that only men can bring to their own nature.

Sir, some one comes. We should dress.

Insolence! You will be on report for this disrespect!

My good sir, be not alarmed.

How dare you sir!

Forgive me my lord. (turns his head quickly away) How was I to know?

How indeed? After all, if an Imperial superintendent was better endowed than most men, you might tell that way - but, then my friend Fu Lin-t’o here could be "his excellency: - or even, I might venture to say, my man-servant - K’u Ko-ling.

O, your are most generous, my master (laughing).

The lower classes are often hung like horses. Or you might have been able to tell if it were written across my forehead or on my ass. So I say, when the apparel which categorizes our station is removed and all stand naked in the mist - identification and classification cannot be easily assumed. We must depend on other clues - mustn’t we?

I did not expect this, my lord.

You must be Xin Ch’u! Well chief clerk, it is hot and humid - and deathly oppressive - and it looks like rain! And why should a man deny his nature when that nature calls, even in the face of his scholastic learning? So, we stripped to meet the occasion - and you came here as appointed - so nothing is amiss. All is as it should be. Feel free to strip-off and join us if you’d feel better suited to the party. (pause) I thought not. So, lead on to the Ya-men. We’ll greet the Ya-men staff now.

Might I suggest, my lord, that the clerical staff in the Ya-men may not understand the value of your reasoning and might find your nakedness a bit unsettling for initializing a tone for your new administration. And there’s your wife to consider.

Scene 6:

You will find the staff here very efficient, my lord. You will have nothing to worry about. As you can see, all functions are covered - amply covered. But, indeed, my lord, you must be tired and need some rest. And you must be very anxious to see your wife.

But these clerks - all these hundreds upon hundreds of clerks. It’s like a beehive.

They all have their place, my lord. They all have their place. Trust me.

Li:

Such a honeycomb of offices and bureaus. My - my - so many. For example, here - what does the Office of Canals do?

Why my lord, it cares for bridges and locks of His Majesty’s canals.

Ah! Good! But look here, there is also an Office of Bridges and Locks we passed a little while ago. What do they do?

They also care for the Bridges and Locks, but in a different way.

Never mind now. We have reached my residence ---

Which contains the famous Willow Pavilion.

Yes, I have heard a great deal about that place - and Governor K’ang has assured me you have done a good job at its restoration.

Just in time for your wife’s arrival there.

Pao Ch’in was a man of great taste.

That he was my lord. He was beloved by all, especially myself and the staff. Rarely have we had such an even-tempered, well-natured superintendent as Pao Ch’in. We pray to heaven that he is at rest among his ancestors and thank heaven that we have been sent a man of your high qualification to carry on in his place, as if Pao Ch’in had never left us. And as you can see we have maintained the place in perfect state.

Perfect state. Yes, a perfect state. We shall talk later, for I do have some questions on protocol.