tea, not all the fuss about it,”
Old Hunter said. “It’s like in an old proverb: an idiot returns the invaluable pearl but keeps the gaudy box.”
“You’re quite right, especially with a collection of old sayings to back you up.” Chen nodded, turning to the waitress with
a smile. “We will enjoy the tea for ourselves. You don’t have to stay with us and serve.”
“That’s the way it is done in our tea house,” she said, blushing in embarrassment. “It is very fashionable nowadays.”
“We’re old-fashioned. You cannot carve anything fashionable out of a piece of rotten wood,” he concluded. “Thank you.”
“Sorry,” Chen said after the waitress left. “This is the only tea house I could think of — with a private room where we could
talk, I mean.”
“I see,” Old Hunter said. “What’s new under the sun, Chief?”
“Oh, we haven’t talked for a long time.”
That was an excuse, Old Hunter knew, so he asked casually, “So you’re enjoying your vacation?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“In this world of ours, eight or nine times out of ten, things will not work out in accordance to your life’s plan, but as
the ancient proverb tells us, who knows if it’s fortune or misfortune when the old man of Sai loses his horse? A vacation
will do you good, Chief. You’ve worked too hard.”
“I wish I could tell you more about fortune or misfortune,” Chen responded elusively, “but I’m not taking vacation for personal
reasons.”
“I understand. You know what? For the last few months, I’ve been enjoying the Suzhou opera version of the
Romance of Three Kingdoms
. The lines at the end are simply fantastic. ‘So many things, past and present, are told by others like stories over a cup
of tea.’ ”
“You do have a passion for Suzhou opera,” Chen said. “Time really flies. When I first read
Romance of Three Kingdoms
, I was still an elementary school student. There was a lot I didn’t understand in the novel. For example, the episode about
Cao Cao building his tombs in secrecy.”
“Yes, I remember — he built several tombs and killed all the workers afterward. So no one knew the location of the real tomb.
And Cao Cao was not the only one. There was also the First Emperor of Qing, who had human beings as well as terracotta soldiers
buried with him in different tombs.”
“Indeed, knowledge of the emperor’s secret could be deadly.”
Old Hunter put down the teacup, detecting a strange note in the younger cop, who wouldn’t have invited him out simply for
a leisurely talk about the emperors and their tombs.
“So is that what worries you, Chief?”
Chen nodded without responding to the question and raised a teacup. “Look at the phrase on the cup. ‘A long, eternal life!’
Originally, that was a chant for the emperors. During the Cultural Revolution, the first English sentence I learned was ‘A
long, eternal life to Chairman Mao!’ Exactly the same phrase as was used with regard to the emperors for thousands of years.
Mao surely knew that, but did he object to it?”
Old Hunter began to suspect that there was a secret investigation concerning Mao. He had worked with Chen, though not as his
partner, and they trusted each other. Chen would usually have come to the point directly. But anything involving Mao would
make the situation different. Chen had to be cautious — and not just for himself. Whatever the situation, Old Hunter had to
assure Chen of his support.
“You hit the nail on the head, Chief. Mao was a modern emperor, for all his talk about Marxism and communism. During the Cultural
Revolution, whatever he said — a sentence, a phrase — was called ‘the supreme decree,’ and we had to celebrate by beating drums
and marching under the scorching sun through the streets. And you couldn’t complain about the heat. Once I even suffered sunstroke.
In ancient times, an emperor was compared to the sun, but Mao simply
Old Hunter said. “It’s like in an old proverb: an idiot returns the invaluable pearl but keeps the gaudy box.”
“You’re quite right, especially with a collection of old sayings to back you up.” Chen nodded, turning to the waitress with
a smile. “We will enjoy the tea for ourselves. You don’t have to stay with us and serve.”
“That’s the way it is done in our tea house,” she said, blushing in embarrassment. “It is very fashionable nowadays.”
“We’re old-fashioned. You cannot carve anything fashionable out of a piece of rotten wood,” he concluded. “Thank you.”
“Sorry,” Chen said after the waitress left. “This is the only tea house I could think of — with a private room where we could
talk, I mean.”
“I see,” Old Hunter said. “What’s new under the sun, Chief?”
“Oh, we haven’t talked for a long time.”
That was an excuse, Old Hunter knew, so he asked casually, “So you’re enjoying your vacation?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“In this world of ours, eight or nine times out of ten, things will not work out in accordance to your life’s plan, but as
the ancient proverb tells us, who knows if it’s fortune or misfortune when the old man of Sai loses his horse? A vacation
will do you good, Chief. You’ve worked too hard.”
“I wish I could tell you more about fortune or misfortune,” Chen responded elusively, “but I’m not taking vacation for personal
reasons.”
“I understand. You know what? For the last few months, I’ve been enjoying the Suzhou opera version of the
Romance of Three Kingdoms
. The lines at the end are simply fantastic. ‘So many things, past and present, are told by others like stories over a cup
of tea.’ ”
“You do have a passion for Suzhou opera,” Chen said. “Time really flies. When I first read
Romance of Three Kingdoms
, I was still an elementary school student. There was a lot I didn’t understand in the novel. For example, the episode about
Cao Cao building his tombs in secrecy.”
“Yes, I remember — he built several tombs and killed all the workers afterward. So no one knew the location of the real tomb.
And Cao Cao was not the only one. There was also the First Emperor of Qing, who had human beings as well as terracotta soldiers
buried with him in different tombs.”
“Indeed, knowledge of the emperor’s secret could be deadly.”
Old Hunter put down the teacup, detecting a strange note in the younger cop, who wouldn’t have invited him out simply for
a leisurely talk about the emperors and their tombs.
“So is that what worries you, Chief?”
Chen nodded without responding to the question and raised a teacup. “Look at the phrase on the cup. ‘A long, eternal life!’
Originally, that was a chant for the emperors. During the Cultural Revolution, the first English sentence I learned was ‘A
long, eternal life to Chairman Mao!’ Exactly the same phrase as was used with regard to the emperors for thousands of years.
Mao surely knew that, but did he object to it?”
Old Hunter began to suspect that there was a secret investigation concerning Mao. He had worked with Chen, though not as his
partner, and they trusted each other. Chen would usually have come to the point directly. But anything involving Mao would
make the situation different. Chen had to be cautious — and not just for himself. Whatever the situation, Old Hunter had to
assure Chen of his support.
“You hit the nail on the head, Chief. Mao was a modern emperor, for all his talk about Marxism and communism. During the Cultural
Revolution, whatever he said — a sentence, a phrase — was called ‘the supreme decree,’ and we had to celebrate by beating drums
and marching under the scorching sun through the streets. And you couldn’t complain about the heat. Once I even suffered sunstroke.
In ancient times, an emperor was compared to the sun, but Mao simply
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