I’ll get you, Mung-k’u. Don’t think your black little heart will get away with this.

Master is too lazy for daylight. You need be fishing. You need be more crafty.

I need to beat your ass with this stick.

Quiet. You’ll wake the master. Then you’ll have what for. And Fu Lin-t’o had a bad night. He needs his rest. Shhh!

O, K’u Ko-ling, you’re never any fun.

(coming into the clearing) Fun. We’ve been on this island for ages, in this heat forever - and you want me to be filled with fun. I’ll take this stick to both of you. (grabs a broom).

No hit me, old servant to scholar-man. I go.

You’ll do nothing of the sort. Stay and rest, my friend. Old K’u Ko-ling here couldn’t swing that thing if he tried.

(swinging the broom) I could sweep you away when you were a small brat. I can certainly make a dent in you now.

My master, the great scholar official Li K’ai-men, has two sons - the great governor of Kuang-nan, Li Pao-t’ien, and this young specimen, Li Ch’e-k’ai. When the Emperor Kao had my master banished to this forsaken island for having dabbled in politics injudiciously, he allowed him 2 favors. First, he could take his lover, Fu Lin-’to - and then he could raise his youngest son, Li Ch’e-k’ai in this remote place.

Oh, there was a third boon. He got to take me - K’u Ko-ling (bows). Now a little excursion to the South was not a bad thing, mind you. We were all natives of Gui-lin, and that is South; but, Hai-nan is about as remotely South as you can imagine. The only taste of our former life at court came in occassional parcels from Li Pao-t’ien. Otherwise, the nearest thing to company was the local tribesmen - particularly that wild thing Mung-k’u.

We can’t really blame them for their wildness. Afterall, when we came to this place Li Ch’e-k’ai was only only 10. After 27 years of this place, he is as native as the rest of the tribesman. He has practically grown up with Mung-k’u. I’m surprised they aren’t lovers. I mean, my master has always bedded men, so why shouldn’t his son. But, at 37 Ch’e-’k’ai hasn’t really seen a civilized woman - so I wouldn’t blame him if he followed his family trade. But I know he likes the women.

You see, I like the women - and as old as I am, I still like to dabble in the autumn reeds. There’s this nice one in the village - she’s not Han, but well, you know. I’ve have taken Master Ch’e-k’ai to the village girls since he was 14 - and no matter how cross he gets with me, he owes me his virginity, he does.

I don’t know how I’ve survived this. I was sure we’d be exiled for a year or two. Now, after twenty-seven years of heat and steam, here we are still. My master was his Majesty’s closest confidant. He was. We could have been set for life. We could have! Well, I wish sometimes I was not brought into the bargain. I do get more repect than I have had in many years, but it’s relative when you’re the only one slaving for a small hive of men — men with too much time on their hands, and too much sickness in their bones.

Look at me. I was once the grandest servant at court. Now I’m a house servant in something that’s barely a house, to an official whose celebrity is greater in legend than it is in fact.

And were’s your partner in laziness?

He swam away. He’ll be back.

Ko-ling? Do you think we could go the village soon. I haven’t been between a woman’s legs in ages.

You’ve never been between a woman’s legs.

Don’t start that again. These woman I am sure are like all other women.

You may think so having never been with a Han woman. But I tell you, when we are summoned, you will take a wife and know.

Take a wife.

Yes, and have children.

I already have children.

Not that brood of mixed fixings you have all over this island. You don’t even know which is which and what there names are. And they are not Li.

Like your children?

I have children here and there — but not here. They are with Han women - and as far as I know they are living in nice households.

Why didn’t you marry?

Living in service has its drawbacks. I did have a woman — a steady woman in Su-chou; and your mother was making arrangements for me to have a woman, a proper woman. Her name was Xu Jin-mai — and your mother had everything prepared for a wedding and dowry. But, then we were exiled. But I don’t think I could have been happy with just one woman. Day after day, the same pouty face and scolding. In fact, with a life in service, she would have been heavy baggage indeed.

So, the widow Pak services you now.

Barely. (points at Ch’e-k’ai’s penis) Your noodle is young and active. Mine alas is takes all the coaxing it can get to ferret down the hole. It’s a good thing that she has patience. But at my age, even a good shit takes the pateince of the world.

You’re not as old a father or uncle Fu.

That’s true. I was a boy when my father sent me to Li K’ai-men’s household; not much older than you were when you came to this island.

I remember it clearly. Your father’s uncle was rich. One of the richest farmers in Gui-lin district. He had one brother, who was a poor fisherman on the Li River. That was your grandfather, Li Hsien. He lived in a hut at the foot of Chicken Cage hill right at the rivers edge. But I’ve told you all this.

Not in some time. There’s nothing else to do.

Well he lived there with your grandmother, Jing-da and your father. There fished with birds, they did.

Phwush! I know all about that!

Well, your grand uncle, the rich farmer, had four daughter - and he was concerned that his lands would not stay together when he died - so he called his brother to his side and urge+d him to take up farming. "What do I know of radishes?" That was the protest of Li Hsien. "I am a fisherman - I fish with birds. That’s all I know." But your grand uncle had a plan.

To adopt his brother as his son and my father as his grandson.

Exactly - and to educate your father in the Gui-lin Academy . . .

Under the great Han-lin . . .

And to take the National Examinations at Ch’ang-sha.

Before he could go away to the examinations, a marriage was arranged. In addition, he needed someone to serve him at the examinations. So my father, who grew the largest cucumbers of all the tenants, was asked to wash me up and send me to the household. I was afraid. I did not know what to expect. I was a little chit of slave. Your master was cordial to me - looked me over - checked my nails - and had me scrubbed. But your mother. She was so gentle. She looked at me and saw I was afraid.

"How would you like to wear a new robe and have new shoes?" she said. "Wouldn’t that be grand?" And she took me out and dressed me up, so I could be presentable at the examination processionals. She was so gentle, young master. I have missed her all these years, and now that she is gone, I miss her all the more.

I envy you.

Envy me? My life’s been an endless toil.

You knew her. You knew my father and uncle Fu when they were young men. You’ve been from one end of the world to the other.

Not for the last twenty seven years I haven’t.

But you have been. And you’ve been in the company of great men - the Emperor. Me, I’ve been nowhere. This has been the realm of my existance. I often wonder what I will do when I return to the cultured world. I left as a child and now I’m too old to be nothing more than an oddity when we return.

If we return.

The Emperor cannot live forever.

Oh they don’t? Then why do we always croak "May you live ten thousand years" to them?

I guess that’s disrespectful. But who can hear? The Gnats? The Mosquitos?

I can hear it, K’u Ko-ling. I can.

Oh master, forgive me. I didn’t think you heard much of anything anymore.

Don’t be flippant. You prove a bad example for the boy.

A boy at 37, father. I think you’re not serious.

A boy with a set like this (points to Li Ch’e-k’ai’s genitals)). Master you are blind as well.

(helping Fu down the stair) Ch’e-k’ai, where’s your loincloth? I’ve told you too many times that some bird will swoop down and bite your noodle off. You still have need of it in civilized society - although heaven knows you’ve used it enough among these barbarian men and women.

Women only, father — not that there’s any leanings away from them at this point.

Well, you know I believe in nature’s course of attraction (he hugs Fu Lin-t’o). But decorum means that as the son of the Imperial Private Secretary and the brother of the Governor of Kuang-nan, you must carry on the traditions expected of your rank and position.

Like we have. Your father insists that we sweat and smell in these robes so the world will remember us as the hoity-toities of the Imperial court. He forgets that he once stood naked with me before the walls of Su-chou to the embarassment of the Ya-men officials.

Oh Fu Lin-t’o, don’t fill his heads with ideas of that. We were young then.

Younger than him. But we still got some air under our balls and some fun with the petty clerks.

You see young master, even I - pissant servant to your father’s every whim, let it all out for the world to see.

So, father, is this hypocrisy?

So son, is this filial piety? Fu lend me your cane. I’ll whip his bare ass to bone.

If you can catch me.

Forgive me master, but it’s time for your little ceremonial.

I don’t think I can do that. I had a bad night. I need to just sit here.

Well, you just sit here then. I’ll take care of it. Ko-ling, help me.

I will try. But if . . .

Not to worry.

Most high Jade Emperor . . .

Most high Jade Emperor . . .

Jade Emperor . . .

Protect and bless our most illustrious majesty . . .

Protect and bless . . .

Bless his majesty . . .

Illustrious . . .

May he live . . . .

Ten thousand years.

In his holy city of Lin-an.

Ten thousand years.

We who serve him still with humble and heavy heart, know that what we do in this hinterland serves him well and is the design of heaven’s justice. Now we are the guardians of this southland . . .

This jungle . . .

The gnats and flies . . .

Dreams of freedom.

May the spirits of the five directions carry this blessing to my lord Kao’s ears, kissed with the sweet voice of those I love - those here and those with you on Mount T’ai . . .

Dear Mei-lin.

Dear mistress.

Mother.

(standing quite tenaciously) Dear departed friend and confidant. See us now in this desolate place where I have him to myself at last.

Hush, Fu. The ceremonial. The ceremonial.

(sitting) Heaven will forgive me. I will see her before you will, you know.

(standing) Before you, he will.

Before us all he will.

(tenderly) Dear Fu.

It is true dear partner. I thought death came for me last night.

Fevers conjure up ghosts.

Maybe so, but I could not breathe. I felt the world sinking away. I saw the world as if it were new and fresh; that is the list I’ve made to the moon in the shadow of the sun. The ways I am devoted to you. It was all there, in the mouth of the dragon as the world slipped away.

Such dreams.

I was awake.

You drempt you were awake. Such anxiety - fever and a bad dose of ch’i-xiao — that’s all it was. You will recover. You have recovered before from this recurring fever. You will again.

Help me to the ground. I am tired.

Not the ground, surely. (calls to Ko-ling) Ko-ling!

Have Ch’e-k’ai help you bring master Fu’s bed out here.

My love, you dote on my too much.

I curse this place for bringing you down so.

Don’t curse it. It is a blessed place.

Blessed? You are dilirious indeed.

You cannot see it? If you were not exiled, you would have been wandering up and down the empire in his Majesty’s service. You would be away or preoccupied with business. I would have seen you only when the hour was late or the journey came to an end. But, in this exile - you have been mine all these years. No Emperor in his golden city has transferred you away. No bandit crew threatened you. No political intrigue came between us. So, this is our place, our House of Green Waters and wild beasts. And we have been as wild as they, haven’t we?

Not so wild that heaven hasn’t made its mark on our frailties. Sleep now. Be calm and get strong, so we can fish once again and visit the village in our court regalia.

The House of Green Waters — that’s the name my master choose for the shack set in this barbaric wilderness. It was reminiscnet of a time when he was young and fished along the river Li. Whenever the fish was brought to market, at the market town of Yang-shui, my master’s father would take his son for some libation at the local tea-house — the House of Green Waters. It was there that they received the word to come visit the rich farmer in Gui-lin. It was there that my master’s life changed forever.

But now the house on Hai-nan was not a joyful memory for my master. He worried mostly about his sons and their fate. Would Ch’e-k’ai ever get to take the exminations and be posted? Would he ever see Pao-t’ien again. Fu Lin-t’o was a tower of strenth - a helpmate in every way. But the sleeping fever came to him some years ago. We nearly lost him then. It was a frightful time. But my master by now was accustomed to the return of the sickness. Now he had new worries.

Ko-ling!

Yes, master.

Mix the ink and prepare. I will write today.

We are nearly out of paper. You wrote last week.

We’ll get more.

How? We are nearly out of cash.

We’ll sell some more radishes in the marketplace.

Thank heaven for those radishes.

Ch’e-k’ai, my son!

Father. You are writing today? What spirit has moved you?

The spirit of gas, I fear. (waves his hands before his nose)

Thank me later, Ko-ling. It’s your cooking that helps that along.

May I watch? I know when you write you have no audience, but . . .

I’ve called you haven’t I. But not so loud. Let Uncle Fu sleep.

Each stroke must count.

Paper is dear?

Moreso than ever. We will need to become merchants and sell some radishes.

Now, first we need inspiration for the poem. It can be anything you want, but it must sound grand. When it is read, the sky must shimmer or blush as the case may be - whatever the subject it must.

I was inspired before. I was watching Mung-k’u at the river’s edge. I watched the ripples of his muscle and the glint of the sun on this hair. Each droplet danced around like fireflies; he was alight with energy and beauty.

(looking at him) So you see the beauty in man.

(recovers) Oh not like you dear father. Not like with Uncle Fu.

But you just described how I once saw Fu Lin-t’o. We were young men then. The only shimmer these old bodies would give now would be like rocks in a mudhole. But I am glad of it, son. Such things can inspire, but are best left for others to write. We are scholars. We are not at liberty to wander into the streams of love that deeply.

Must it always be ceremonial?

Han Lin once told me that life without ritual is a life without an anchor. The form assures that substance must follow. After all, you can have all the wine on earth, but if you have no jugs, you’d have nothing of substance to get drunk on. Lap it up as you may in the puddles, the sky would capture your treasure for it’s own use and laugh at your folly. Now, ritual assures that we have a place to keep our spirits for ourselves.

But father, we are here. If we were in Lin-an I could see the purpose, but we are here.

Poor child. For us old ones, it has been a life unfulfilled. For you, it has been a life not begun. When I was your age . . .

When you were my age father, you had just arrived here.

Yes, full of anticipation. I didn’t fear this place. It was inconvenenient, but I had Fu Lin-t’o and you. I thought it would be a few years — actually to rest from the torrent of Ch’in Kwei’s politics and the feuding between War and Peace parties. The court left a bad taste in my mouth after the death Yueh Fei; and the Emperor abandonned me - which hurts me still.

Yes, we arrived on this spot. It was a place of natural beauty. Fu scoped out the house and I met with the village elders. We bartered for crop seed and were in good order. Remember the ox we had then? Remember the little visits from the shamen. I think they believed we were gods cast out, but gods nonetheless. And we fished and hunted. It was different then.

So, does that inspire you to write?

No, it doesn’t. What has is what Fu Lin-t’o said to me about my career and how it has come to a halt here.

Swan Cloud

Yes, I am like a Swan cloud. It moves about the heavens trying to change its shape. But whereever it appears, it still retains the form.

Very clever, father.

See here what I am writing now. It forms a circle of character, sound and theme. See here.

"The people of Chu-chun village are wonderful to behold.
In this village are the family Chou and the family Tso.
For a thousand years, Chou’s have married Tso’s.
They raise their families within the shadow of the village drum tower.
They raise their crop and feed their oxen in Chu-chun village,
They marry, have children, grow old and die there.
In Chu-chun there are the graves of a thousand Chous and Tsos
Who have never wandered more than 10 li from the tower and its drum."

So what do you think?

Pretty, but quite oblique. It’s a rather mundane truth.

It is not truth at all. It is fact. Here’s truth.

"But I have serve this great empire;
I have wandered like a vagrant hollow in all things save my service
From North to south to every town and village in this land,
Never resting my head,
Like a Swan Cloud, trying to become some other mist,
Some other notion but the one of mission and cause.
And I will die a million li from my house and home.
How I envy the people of Chu-chun village."

Not so, dear Li. I am your home.

(goes to Fu) How true, but you know how the truth is when said poetically.

I know. It was one such poem that got us here.

The power of the written word. (to Ch’e-k’ai) Never write down what should remain in thought. While the thought can impune you, the written word can condemn you.

But father, this poem is truly one of your best.

Take it then. It is yours. Study its form and construction; think of it when you take your examinations.

Such hopes of ever doing that have long since be dashed.

You must never say that. No son of mine can be denied the right to be examined and serve.

Come to me, Ch’e-k’ai

I have seen you in a dream. I have seen you in robes richer than any I ever wore. I have seen you sitting in judgement at the morning sessions of state. You will be more famous than us all. So, prepare yourself — my dreams never lie.

That is true, Ch’e-k’ai. Fu Lin-t’o once forsaw the Ming-shou mutiny in a dream. Remember master how Fu Lin-t’o saw the pearl of the Empress Dowager in a dream?

That’s is true. I had forgotten.

So, you see Ch’e-k’ai, foolish boy. You should look forward.

(stands) I appreciate the confidence, but my soul is filled with the jungle damp. My eyes can only see bamboo and mamgo. My closest friend is Maio and my abode a shack on the edge of a radish patch. Somehow, I need to keep my own council in this. What I want has passed me by many years ago. What I have is a bit of marshy soil beyond the Empire’s gates.

Li men. Quickly. They come to see you.

Mung-k’u, what are you talking about?

Jing Jing comes. He say you read. He say, bao bao important.