Free Sandalwood Death by Mo Yan Page A

death, we were gods, not humans. We were the law of the land. With our hands and faces painted red, Grandma Yu and I sat peacefully on stools to await the official summons from the Imperial Palace.
    As the red sun wheeled into the sky, crows in scholar trees set up a racket of caws. A woman was keening in the Imperial Dungeon. Condemned to die for killing her husband, she keened like that every day—for heaven, for earth, and for her children. By now she had descended into madness. Your dieh, I, being young, soon began to fidget and could not sit still. I stole a glance at Grandma Yu, who sat straight and unmoving as an iron bell, and I followed his lead by holding my breath to calm myself. The blood-paint had dried and become stiff, turning our faces into something resembling sugarcoated berries, and I strained to experience the feeling of armor covering my skin. Little by little my thoughts blurred, and a hazy picture formed in my mind of me following Grandma Yu down a deep, dark trench, walking on and on without ever reaching the end.
    The Office of Palace Justice Director, Eminence Cao, led us up to a pair of small, blue-curtained palanquins and gestured for us to climb in. This sudden and unexpected indulgence nearly unnerved me, for I had never ridden in a palanquin before. I glanced at Grandma Yu, who, to my surprise, stood without moving, open-mouthed, as if he were about to cry or sneeze. A eunuch with a double chin standing beside the palanquins said in a throaty voice:
    “What’s the matter, chairs too small for you?”
    Still, neither Grandma Yu nor I was willing to climb in. Our eyes were fixed on Eminence Cao, who said:
    “These are not intended as a show of respect, but to keep you from attracting too much attention. What are you waiting for? Get in! It is true, you cannot put a dog’s head on a golden platter.”
    The four bearers, all unwhiskered eunuchs, stood in front of the chairs, their hands tucked into their sleeves, looks of disdain on their faces. That actually emboldened me. Stinking castrati, fuck you and your mothers. Thanks to your Little Insect, I am going to ride on the shoulders of you two-legged beasts today. I stepped up to a chair, pulled the curtain aside, and climbed in. Grandma Yu did the same.
    Our transports left the ground and began the bumpy ride to the Imperial Palace. I heard the hoarse grumbling of one of the eunuchs:
    “This executioner is heavy, dead weight, probably from drinking all that human blood!”
    These men, who normally carried the Empress or one of the Imperial Consorts, had never imagined that they would one day carry an executioner, not in their worst nightmare. That made me so proud that I began to rock back and forth to make the trip harder on those stinking castrati. But before we’d even left the Board of Punishments compound, Young Aunt shouted from behind:
    “Grandma, Grandma, you forgot Yama’s Hoop!”
    An explosion went off in my head; I saw stars; sweat seeped from my pores and rained to the ground as I tumbled out of the chair and took the red-wrapped Yama’s Hoop from Young Aunt. I cannot describe what I felt at that moment. Grandma Yu had also gotten out of his chair, I saw, his face similarly beaded with sweat, his legs quaking. If not for Young Aunt’s quick thinking, we would have been in very hot water that day.
    “Your mother be fucked!” Eminence Cao cursed. “Can an official misplace his official seal? Does a tailor lose his scissors?”
    I was all set to enjoy the privilege of riding in a palanquin, but this turn of events soured my mood. I crawled back in and sat quietly, making no more trouble for the eunuchs.
    I don’t know how long we had been riding when my chair abruptly landed with a thud and I emerged, confused and disoriented, nearly blinded by my resplendent surroundings. Holding on to Yama’s Hoop, my back bent slightly, I followed Grandma Yu, who was being led into the palace by a eunuch, down one winding corridor after