"What progress have you made on the wall?" Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi demanded.

"We have completed nearly three li¹, Great Emperor, but over a hundred thousand workers have perished in the effort. I don't know if-"
¹One li (consisting of 1,800 ch'ih) is equal to 2,115 feet or about 0.401 mile

"You don't know what?"

General Byung-Hee knew that the Emperor never asked the same question twice so he answered straightforwardly, knowing his head, as well as his soldiers' heads would be on the chopping block, if he stumbled in his reply. "I don't know if we have enough convicts and slaves to finish constructing your tomb and create the Great Wall at the same time, O Great Emperor."

"Get more, then, gather all the idle fools in the kingdom. Gather the criminals and those who speaks out against me, gather the thinkers-and those who think they can think. Gather them all."

"We've conscripted all the criminals, Great Emperor, and all the jails are empty."

"Then arrest more men; surely there are troublemakers . . . there are poets, there are writers."

"Great Emperor, we've already gathered all the trouble makers. There are none left."

"Then create troublemakers. Rile them, trick them into foolishness if you have to, but by the gods, turn them into rebels." Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi, dressed in his full-flowing imperial robes, stretched himself to his full five foot two inch height by standing on his toes, astounding his subjects who thought a giant had emerged from within, "and if you can't trick them, haul them here, anyway. The people are rats. Rats belong in holes and I have holes to dig and walls to build."

"Even the rats are scarce, Great Emperor."

"Then by the gods, create more. Drag out the entire nation if you have to, but bring them to me! Bring all the squealing lying rats to me."

"Yes, Great Emperor."

"And if you find a rat that doesn't fear me, if you find a rat that doesn't tremble when he hears my name, take him to his village and slice out his eyelids-let him watch as you chop off the heads of everyone in his village. Then bring the rat to me."

"Yes, Great Emperor," General Byung-Hee said as he cowered before his Emperor. For nearly ten years, he had gloried in his service as Qin's exterminator, but now he wondered if this day he, too, would die like a rat.

"They shall build my wall."

"Your word is law, Great Emperor."

"Bring me those who do not labor and I'll turn them into laborers! Bring me those who don't know how to use a pick and I'll beat them with the back of my hand. Bring me those who do not fear me and I will make them scream for mercy."

"Your word is truth, Great Emperor."

"We need more rats; we shall have our wall!"

"Yes, Great Emperor, but we have little food and the rats are dying as fast as we gather them. Those who live are becoming restless. I'm afraid they may rebel."

"Drag the rebels before their families, slice off the heads of their wives, their children, their mothers, but do not kill the rats. Rats must live long enough to build my wall."

"Your word is strength, my lord." Byung-Hee thought of the rats he had killed. None of them is worth a drop of the Emperor's spit; their heads are not worthy to kick as game balls, "I shall see to the provisions."

"Forget food. If the rats have no food, let them eat dirt and bow down to me, praising me for life. If the rats have no water, let them lick the dew from the earth. Let all who complain eat dirt and lick the ground for moisture."

Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi laughed raucously as General Byung-Hee grabbed a thirty-year old slave and forced it to the ground. "You hear the Emperor, rat, lick the ground."

Without hesitating, the slave scraped his tongue and lips into the dirt and rocks, praying to the great goddess, Kuan Yin, for the strength to cut himself enough to bleed.

After an eternity, the rat's mouth bled, and as the spit dribbled from his mouth, his urine leaked through his clothing, and water was all around him.

General Byung-Hee laughed from his belly, which was the first time he had laughed since he was a boy, marveling at the power and strength of his Emperor to make a grown man piss his pants." Crawl back in formation and thank the Immortals that the mighty Qin Shi Huangdi allows you to live to tell this story to your grandsons-let them know the power and majesty of your Emperor."

Qin Shi Huangdi had been Emperor since he was thirteen and now that he was China's living god and he planned to leave his legacy for eternity. For the past fifteen years he had fought the seven warring states, enslaving their people, killing their leaders and adding a half million rats to his empire-unifying China for the first time with one common language, one legal system, and one ruler-the living god, Qin Shi Huangdi.

"Byung, several of my pebbles are missing," Emperor Qin smirked, "find the rat who ate them, decapitate him, and send his head to his mother-then cut off the heads of everyone in his family and give them to his mother, but do not harm his mother-let her live so she can tell everyone about the power of Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi."

General Byung-Hee motioned to his men and they dragged the slave back to the Emperor.

"What's your name, rat? Where's your family?"

"My name is Tze, Great Emperor. I am an orphan with no family," Tze lied without turning crimson in the face, praying to Kuan Yin for his family's safety.

Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi sliced through Tze's neck in one merciful swipe of his sword.

"Torture the rats one by one until you learn the name of this rat's village, then take its head to its village and watch its people. Slice off the heads of all those who shed tears, or look away, or cry, and leave them on poles in the center of the village. Let this rat's death be a warning that I shall not harbor rebellion. Let the people remember the name of Qin Shi Huangdi, their living god."

The Emperor wiped his sword on the slave's clothes, sheathed his sword, and kicked the body away. "I have no time for rats. Bring them all to my wall. Drag them from their hovels, march them from their villages, delight in their cries as teach them the joy of serving their god. Conscript the artists, the writers, the thinkers, but beat the poets before you conscript them. Teach the people that the only beautiful words they will ever hear are the gracious words of compassion from their Emperor."

"Yes, my gracious lord."

"And remember, those who do not work, eat rocks."

"Your very word is obeyed, Great Emperor."

"Leave me. Empty the local villages and bring me all rats capable of movement. March loudly into the villages-blare your trumpets and bang your drums, make the rats tremble at the sound of my name as they kowtow before me."

"Yes, my lord."

"And by the Immortals, if I don't hear the rats squealing in the night, your head will stand on a spear along with a tenth of your soldiers."

"Yes my lord," General Byung-Hee began to back way from Qin Shi Huangdi.

"Do I make myself clear? I am lord of the universe. Rats exist only to please me."

General Byung-Hee turned quickly and marched away from the mighty Di. Within a few moments, he had confronted his aides. "Tell the captains to search the land anyone capable of movement. If he walks, if he breathes, if he farts, the Emperor wants him to build his wall."

In Yanquan², the spring rains had meted out their justice and the earth was potter's clay ready to be molded into the new land of China, the nation formed when Emperor Qin³ Shi Huangdi defeated the warring nations. And now that the years of famine and pestilence were over, the pigs grew fat enough to be slaughtered, the men had time to rethatch their roofs, and the women were able to sew new garments. Life was very good in Yanquan. Life was very very good.
²Meng Jiangnu's village
³Qin is pronounced as Chin

In between cartwheels, Meng-Jiangnu's seven-year old twin brothers, Quoc and Chai, worked in the fields as Meng's sisters Chyou and Mee, sat with the women, knowing not to speak, waiting their turn to learn to sew. For the children, life was as it always had been, men with boys, women with girls, and the world was at peace. Even the Immortals slept now that the great Emperor Qin had brought peace to the land.

Hsin, the twenty-forty year old balding man with liver spots on his skin who saw beyond the village and dreamed beyond the sea, was among the lucky ones, apprenticed at the age of five to the local potter, he learned his lessons well enough to grow up to be a master and provided the local villages with bowls and plates. Now he was among the richest men in Yanquan and, although he could neither read nor write, he surrounded himself with writers and poets like like Chi-Chuen, Se-Jon, and Xiaoping, young who devoted their lives to learning instead of growing hair on their faces.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

An hour's walk away, in the tiny village of Chungsoo⁴, Hou and Kina were tending the herd. They had learned their trade when they were boys of six and would live as herdsmen forever-but, unlike Hsin, they had no desire to learn; they knew everything they needed to know, caring about nothing else except the food they ate, the girls they ogled, and the herds they tended.

Now both villages- Yanquan and Chungsoo-are humming with the sounds of late spring. The fat birds are singing and the animals are gouging on early grass. The crops are growing and the villagers can smell the fresh manure, they can see their wealth growing exponentially, now that Qin Shi Huangdi has unified the country, now that he has become their Emperor. The Immortals willing, nothing will ever go wrong again!
⁴Fan Xiliang's village

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The poet Fan Xiliang and Meng Jiangnu's lives were about to begin, since, after years of warfare and deprivation, their villages were now havens of prosperity. Soon, the couple would marry and unite their villages.

"Isn't Meng Jiangnu's too old to marry?" Boon-Hoe, the pocked-faced thirteen year-old, asked as she dipped her hands into the river and pounded on her clothes.

"She should have married years ago." Hyoung, the sixteen year-old sweet-faced mother of three, said, as she swept her hair back from her face, watching the sweat fall into the river.

"Why didn't Jiangnu marry last year?" Hobbled-legged Kwok asked.

"She's fifteen, but she's still beautiful," Hyoung said, "perhaps her father's waiting for the best husband in the region."

"Was there ever any doubt?" Jeng, the almond-eyed, asked. "Meng Jiangnu has been betrothed to Fan Xiliang since she was eight."

The women giggled because it had been their lot, as well. They had been betrothed when they were seven or eight, but since their husbands lived in the same village, they laid with them as soon as the boys were able to penetrate them. Hyoung remembered her first penetration as a joyous occasion that became a way of life and a rite of passage, but once her cycle began, her parents forced her into marriage.

"Life's too short, girls must bear a new child every year-the fields must have workers. The village must survive."

"Meng Jiangnu will have many children. She's one of fifteen and Fan Xiliang will treat her well. His father never beat any of them; he didn't even hit the boys who broke into his house and killed his chickens."

"The leaf doesn't fall far from the tree," Hyoung added, "and Xiliang will make a strong husband." The women giggled at the thought of the strong young stallion mounting his new bride. "A good marriage is a sign from the Immortals: this will be a bountiful year!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sweeping into the villages like locusts munching their way through rice paddies, Qin's soldiers gathered the non-productive males and announced the Emperor's decree. "All men must build the Great Wall." The soldier touched the hilt of his sword as he continued reading, "serving the Emperor is your duty and your right." He paused, looking at the skinny men in their tattered clothes, trying to figure out which ones were artists and poets. I can tell by the looks in their eyes and the way they position their jaws. I can tell by their smell; they smell of shit and are unwilling to wipe their own asses. "Now," he said, "those of you who can read, write or sing, follow me."

No man hesitated. Those who were educated went immediately with the soldiers. The rest went into their huts, preparing for their journey.

"Strip the poets and beat them. Beat every part of their bodies. Start with their feet and work your way up to their necks, but save their faces for last."

The men who could read or write or compose music or teach, watched in terror as the soldiers beat the poets.

Why am I being beaten? Chi-Chuen wondered, And why are the soldiers starting at my feet? Chi-Chuen stopped wondering when the soldiers moved the rods up his calves. The pain is unbearable! If the soldiers started on my head, I'd be unconscious by now. They want me to be awake for the beating. But why? Chi-Chuen's feet were bleeding now and his calves were flaming red. He felt his shins turning purple, his ribs cracking. I'm just a poet. I haven't done anything wrong.

"Beat the poet until he remembers there is no truth without the Emperor's permission. There is no freedom except from the devine god, Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi."

Now I understand. I am to be an example. I am being beaten because I'm a poet. There is no place in China for poets-or for mercy.

"Hold out your hands, rat," Gi Su, one of Byung-Hee's soldiers, ordered. "Feel the power of Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi.

After ten blows to his fingers, knuckles, and hands, Chi-Chuen knew he'd never hold a pen again, he knew he'd never be able to hold a pair of chopsticks, either. He would remain a burden to his village and his family until he died.

Chi-Chuen felt the frigid water splashing his face; he heard Se-Jon and Xiaoping screaming behind him. He saw their bloodied bodies, their broken bones, their bruised feet, their cracked teeth.

Gi Su pulled Chi-Chuen up by his hair and watched him hop on his battered feet.

Chi-Chuen prayed for death. Nothing can be worse than this. I'll never write again. I'll never think again.

"Take the others back to the village. I'll lead this rat back later," Gi Su said as he kicked Chi-Chuen in his balls.

The other men hobbled back to the village, supporting the other poets, Se-Jon and Xiaoping, by their arms, their bloody footprints marking the trail from the place of the beating to their homes.

"Fear the Emperor or die," Gi Su said. "You are a poet, worthless to the Emperor and to your village. You will be made an example so that others will remember the power of the great Emperor, Qin Shi Huangdi."

Gi Su kicked Chi-Chuen back to his village and forced him to his knees. Three soldiers stood behind Chi-Chuen and in three deliberate strokes, they chopped him into pieces, forever removing a wart from the face of Qin Shi Huangdi.

"Put its head on a stick, let the people remember this day. Let everyone remember their living god, the Great Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hsin hurried back to his village; he had spent the week traveling the countryside, selling his pottery. Now he had just two thoughts on his mind. He was excited about attending the wedding of his good friends Fan Xiliang and Meng Jiangnu and he wanted to spread the glorious news: the Emperor was building a massive wall in the north. The Great Wall will be as high as six men standing on each other's shoulders. It will be as wide as twenty men lying side-by-side. Hsin sang a song of praise to the Emperor as he trundled home.


Qin Shi Huangdi is the strongest man in the universe.
Aye-yee, aye-yee.
>Qin Shi Huangdi is the richest man on earth.
Aye-yee, aye-yee.
Qin Shi Huangdi is the wisest among all the wise.
Aye-yee, aye-yee.
Qin Shi Huangdi rules the universe!
Aye-yee, aye-yee.

Hsin was proud of his song and sang it repeatedly, trying to retain the words in his head so he could share it with his friend, Chi-Chuen.

As Hsin entered the village, he saw the bloody footprints; he heard the moans; he smelled the deep dank smells of fear: sweat, shit and semen. As he rounded the corner of Chi-Chuen's hut, he stopped and stared. Then he vomited-heaving his morning's rice and vegetables onto the warm brown earth. There in front of him, on a pole high above his face-he saw the head of his closest friend, Chi-Chuen.


On to Chapter Three
Perversion
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Escape!
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