Fate wrote the first chapter of this tale some centuries ago, when it planted the seeds of mutual hate in two kindred Mongol races: in Chinese and in Manchu, and by the same token, in patient, earthbound peasant and in hawkish nomad, hard-galloping across the land, conquering it with the swish of the red sword, the scream and bray of the long-stemmed war-trumpets, the hollow nasal drone of the kettle-drums\u2014and overhead, the carrion-fed vultures paralleling the marauders\u2019 progress on eager wings.
\nFate wrote the second chapter sixty-odd years ago, when Foh Wong and Yang Shen-Li were boys in the cold northern town of Ninguta, where they threw stones at each other and swapped salty abuse; although it was Yang Shen-Li, the Manchu, the mandarin\u2019s son, who did most of the stonethrowing, whereas Foh Wong, whose parents were Chinese coolies tilling the barren clay, did most of the cursing\u2014from a safe distance. For he valued his skin\u2014which, together with his shrewd brain, was his sole possession.
\nFate wrote the third chapter a little over fifty years ago, when parlous times had come to China\u2014with Russia at the western and Japan at the eastern border, both waiting for an excuse to invade the tottering Empire and tear it to pieces\u2014and when, one morning, Foh Wong stopped Yang
\nShen-Li on the street and said:
\n\u201cA word with you!\u201d
\n\u201cWhat is it, mud-turtle?\u201d
\n\u201cIndeed,\u201d replied the other, \u201cI am no more than a mud-turtle, while you are an aristocrat, an ironcapped prince. And yet\u201d\u2014slowly\u2014\u201ctoday I have the whip-hand.\u201d
\n\u201cEh?\u201d exclaimed Yang Shen-Li.
\nHe was startled. He wondered if Foh Wong knew, how he knew\u2014heard him drop his voice to a purr:
\n\u201cYou were not alone last night. I watched from behind a tree. And should I proclaim what I saw, there would be your handsome head spiked on a tall pole in front of the Palace of August Justice.\u201d
\nThe Manchu shrugged his shoulders. He tried to speak casually:
\n\u201cI do not fear death.\u201d
\n\u201cOf course not\u2014since you are a brave fool. But being also an honorable fool, you would not wish to bring black disgrace on your father, to cause him to lose face. And\u2014forgive the wretched pun\u2014your father would lose a great deal of face, if you should lose your head. A murderer\u2019s head\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cI did not murder.\u201d
\n\u201cYou killed.\u201d
\n\u201cIn self-defense. He insulted me, struck me, drew his revolver and fired\u2014the insolent
\nforeigner!\u201d
\n\u201cBut\u2014be pleased to remember\u2014a most important foreigner. A high Russian official whose corpse you\u2014ah\u2014buried in back of Han Ma\u2019s camel stables.\u201d He stabbed out an accusing finger.
\n\u201cI saw you.\u201d
\n\u201cHave you witnesses?\u201d
\n\u201cNot a one. I was alone.\u201d
\n\u201cThen?\u201d
\n\u201cThere will be witnesses, when the time comes.
\nThree of my cousins. A dozen, if you prefer.\u201d
\n\u201cLying witnesses!\u201d
\n\u201cLying, only, in swearing they saw the deed. Not lying as to the deed itself. And though you are a mandarin\u2019s son, the Dowager Empress, with Russia\u2019s soldiers massed at the frontier, will give an order to her red-robed executioners, will have your handsome head removed, if I should\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cIS there a price for your silence, coolie?\u201d interrupted Yang Shen-Li.
\n\u201cIs there not a price for everything?\u201d
\n\u201cHow much?\u201d
\n\u201cNo money. Not a single silver tael.\u201d Foh Wong paused. \u201cThe price of my silence is\u2014a word.\u201d
\n\u201cA word?\u201d
\n\u201cYes. A mere word from you\u2014to Na Liu. A word telling her I desire her greatly\u2014wish her to be my wife.\u201d
\n\u201cBut\u201d\u2014the Manchu stammered with rage\u2014 \u201cshe\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cLoves you? I know. And I know, too, that, loving you, she will not relish the thought of your bleeding head grinning down at her from a tall pole, and will therefore marry me, the mud-turtle. . . . Hayah!\u201d with sudden violence. \u201cGo to her! At once!
\nFor today I command, and you will obey!\u201d Yang Shen-Li stared at the other.
\n\u201cYes,\u201d he said heavily. \u201cI shall obey.\u201d He took a step nearer. \u201cBut\u2014listen to me, coolie!\u201d His words clicked and broke like dropping icicles. \u201cI hate you. Ah\u2014by the Buddha!\u2014I shall always hate you.\u201d
\n\u201cYou hate me no more than I hate you,\u201d was the answer. \u201cBut\u201d\u2014and Foh Wong\u2019s eyes gleamed triumphantly through meager almond lids\u2014\u201cyou are helpless, O paper tiger with paper teeth. I am not. So\u2014keep on hating me!\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Fate wrote the first chapter of this tale some centuries ago, when it planted the seeds of mutual hate in two kindred Mongol races: in Chinese and in Manchu, and by the same token, in patient, earthbound peasant and in hawkish nomad, hard-galloping across the land, conquering it with the swish of the red sword,…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_kad_post_transparent":"","_kad_post_title":"","_kad_post_layout":"","_kad_post_sidebar_id":"","_kad_post_content_style":"","_kad_post_vertical_padding":"","_kad_post_feature":"","_kad_post_feature_position":"","_kad_post_header":false,"_kad_post_footer":false,"_kad_post_classname":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[15],"class_list":["post-639","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-pulp-classics","tag-achmed-abdullah"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/639","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=639"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/639\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=639"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=639"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=639"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}