So, we depart today. I see the land of my childhood once again. How dreadful. How terrible to the call. I will be expected to take my place in the society of scholars and officials. Such is my destiny. Such is the calling.

Mung-k’u, is that you?

No.What a mystery then that he hasn’t come near since the governor’s arrival. (sighs) Some playfellow. Abandonned at the first sight of civilized man. I should cast his friendship off now. It will not suit me now that I am restored to honor.

Restored to honor? How funny that sounds. Did I have honor when I was a child of 10 that I lost all these years to the folly of adults. Now, my innosense is surrendered to such honors. How terrible. How fierce.

I was sure that was Mung-k’u in the underbrush. No. There’s a breeze this morning. Sad breeze bidding me farewell. The sun rises through the mango, shimmering a willowy song to my heart. I know every branch of this ground. I know every rock in the river. That is the price of the lack of honor. That is the price!

Meng-k’u. That is you.

Lazy boy, Meng-k’u hear you cry last night.

What? Me cry? You heard yourself, not me.

(coming close to him and squatting) You mad at Mung-k’u. You dress in silver cloth and sit alone. Mung-k’u think you say goodbye here and be never more.

Mung-k’u is right. I am not mad at you. I will miss you dear friend. I will miss our time to fish and play.

Mung-k’u come with you. Mung-k’u be big mu-chi-kak like lazy master.

I wish you could come with me, Mung-k’u; but it’s a strange new world out there, even for me. You would never understand it. It would be cruel to take you with me.

Mung-k’u knows. Come anyway.

No. I will miss you, but I will be away taking my examinations. If I am smart enough, I will get a superintendency; and because my father is who he is, and my brother is the governor, I could get a post quite comfortable for life.

Mung-k’u serve you, like Ko-ling serve big mu-chi-kak master.

Brother, you are awake so early.

(drying his tears) I am always up early, sir. I love to watch the sun come up over the river. It shimmers in so many different ways. Come see.

See there. Beneath the water, the carp are playing. They cuts the sun’s reflection in two. And there, the Grebe draws a line across the water, her little brood follow.

Indeed, brother, such inspiration for poetry.

Maybe so. Records of an image - but the truth of the matter lies deeper.

There’s so much more I want to know about you. It is a terrible thing to know you have a brother and you cannot reach him.

Yes, terrible thing isn’t it, especially when you’ve got the good end of the stick.

You don’t begrudge me that, do you?

Who said I was referring to you? We have managed here quite nicely. Look over there.

A hammock.

Have you ever slept in one?

No.

Come then.

I’m afraid my robes are too bulky to manage it.

Take them off.

No, I cannot. I am the Governor.

You are on Hai-nan with no one looking.

My servants. My guards. They are all about.

Pity.

And over there we grow peas and radishes.

Radishes? How on earth did father manage that?

In the same manner that most people can. Through application toward surviving. This is not an unusual feat brother. Uncle Fu had a strong hand in that.

Uncle Fu? Why do you call him uncle? He is not our uncle.

He has always been Uncle Fu.

You know he’s father’s lover. They have been in a cut-sleeve affair for as long as anyone can remember.

You surprise me sir. Have I lived with them for 27 years to be told that they are lovers by a man who hasn’t seen any of us for ages. Of course they are lovers. They define the word, sir.

Forgive my ignorance. It’s not every day a family is reunited under such unusual circumstances. For some reason, I thought that such a man as Fu Lin-t’o would have withered away under such conditions and returned to the motherland to live his life out in comfort.

Uncle Fu would never leave father. Their bond is too deep. But how could he? We are restricted here.

Father is, but Fu Lin-t’o is not. Neither are you. I have often wondered why you chose to remain here all these years. I could have sponsored you to the examinations. Of course I will do so now, but you are many years late.

What? You are wrong, sir. When father was exiled, so were we all.

Not so.

You are incorrect in this, sir.

I am not! Stop calling me sir. I am your brother.

Father!

Quiet. Shhh. You’ll wake Fu Lin-t’o.

I don’t care! Wake them all up.

Young master, this is unseemly.

Wake them.

Now!!!!

What’s this row? You’ll wake your Uncle.

Father. Tell me what my brother has told me is untrue.

I am sure the world has changed in many ways for you. I am sure many things you will hear will be strange and unbelievable. I am sure your brother has told you the truth in all matters. He is a scholar-gentleman and the governor.

He has told me that only you were bound to exile. That the rest of us were not compelled to stay here. That Fu Lin-t’o and I could leave at any time!

I would not leave you master. Where would I go?

That’s not exactly correct, son.

Not exactly correct. Then, what is the truth then, father. You speak of truth while stroking fancy characters. You spout the great teachings of Han Lin; then, I find that there are shades of truth amongst your strokings — clear this up for me father. I cannot understand half-truth. I cannot!

Calm down. (to Ko-ling) Go to Fu Lin-t’o.

Sorry, father, but I thought he knew the conditions.

But even you do not know the conditions, Pao-t’ien. Calm down, Ch’e-k’ai. Calm down.

When I was exiled, I was exiled alone. Truly a desolate condition indeed. But Fu Lin-t’o begged the Emperor for clemency — that others might join me. So, the Emperor who’s heart is not entirely of stone, allowed Fu Lin-t’o to accompany me. He also exiled my second son, you Ch’e-k’ai. Exiled you! You were never free to leave.

Father, he exiled him until he was of age. Then he was free to return.

That is not so.

It was, with respect father. It was.

That cannot be so.

(in disbelief) Stop! I am going mad. This is not an academic discussion. It has effected my life for over 20 years. I could have been free of this place - free to be examined and serve. You know this father! You know it!

Ch’e-k’ai! Ch’e-k’ai! This was very irresponsible, Pao-t’ien. If I knew you were going to hurt him, I would have . . .

Irresponsible father. You know I am telling the truth. Why didn’t you send him back when he turned 15? I could have watched over his career. And mother was still alive. How could you have been so irresponsible, father? How?

(visibly shaken) I was afraid. I was afraid without my guidance he would die.

Die? Father, I have lived and thrived without your guidance. Do I look any worse for wear?

Why are my sons so disrespectful?

We are not disrespectful. We love and respect you. But, you have done a thing most unthinkable, father.

It was my right to do it!

It is your right, willful man. It is your right.

I meant to send him back. I meant to. Every year I said, "next year. I will contact Li Pao-t’ien and send him to his brother." But every year I became more fearful that without my influence he would stray. He is a lazy scholar. He communes with nature and plays with the natives. So, I postponed his return. Then, the longer it went, the more fearful I was of doing it. It is my right.

(bows) With all respect, I should find him and settle him down.

You will no more find him out there than you can grow radishes. He knows every blade of grass in this woodland. He’ll come back, when he is ready. As irresponsible as you think I am, I know my son.

You didn’t know me.

Well, I was rarely home, you know. You know first hand what service is. Does you wife get visits with frequency now that you’re a great lord?

She does, sir. I remember the neglect of . . .

Your mother was never neglected.

With all respect sir, your attentions to Fu Lin-t’o were always more important than any given to my mother, your wife.

(raises his hand to slap him) How can you say such things? Fu Lin-t’o loved you - and loved her. She loved him! I should slap you as a father’s right and ignore your rank as governor.

Well, it’s water under the bridge. And Fu Lin-t’o is too frail for this journey anyway.

What are you saying?

I think it would be injudicious for Fu Lin-t’o to travel back to the court. It’s a long journey and he is very ill.

I will not return without him. This man has shared my life for over 30 years. He chose exile with me. I will not abandon him now.

You cannot stay. You are summoned. His Majesty has use of you. You are returned to service.

Unloving cur. I can’t believe I have waited all these years to meet you again and find you so heartless. You were raised better.

I am not heartless. I love you and my brother. I even have some fondness for Fu Lin-t’o.

Liar! You are separating us.

I fear I will not be the one to separate you from him.

Sweet Li K’ai-men, this robe is heavier than I remember. It was the robe of a younger man. I was proud of it — proud to wear it. But now, dear partner, I think it must be laid aside soon.

Don’t talk this nonsense. The fever has been conquered before.

Too often, I fear. It has taken more and more me away. Soon, there will be little left of me. Little left of your sweet little Fu.

Fu Lin-t’o, such talk is shocking before your governor.

It was never so before K’ang Yu-wei, a better and greater governor than you, sir. It was fitting for the Emperor’s company. It was precisely in tuned to your mother’s wishes.

Ah, Mei-lin - my sister in charity and love.

Unbareable!

Don’t mind him. You know through the years we have felt the scorn. I never could imagine that it would come from my own blood.

Too old for this discussion, dear Li. I will not come between you and yours — ever.

You are mine. We shall not be separated.

I fear that’s not so. I found it hard to go from the bed to this chair. You want me to travel 3,000 li to Lin-an?

(suddenly weeping) O, how can we part after all these years? I have never known anyone in my bed but you. How can I face this in my old age?

You’re already old.

But I can’t leave you here alone. Who will feed you? Who will dress you?

Maybe, with luck, I’ll die today.

No. I could not bear it.

But since when have we had luck? Maybe Mung-k’u can look in on me from time to time.

He doesn’t even speak the language? You’ll go mad in the silence.

I will go mad the minute you leave my sight. But, then if I try to travel with you, I’ll die in unfamiliar surroundings - and cause you more grief than I could bear.

But you’ll be dead. I’ll need to bear it.

(dries his tears with his hand) We all must die. Think of the life we have had together. Can many boast of a life like ours? Can many say they have choosen their love and kept to it for so many years? We are the stuff of legends - soon they will not speak of a "cut-sleeve" affair. They will say "those men dwell in the House of Green Waters." Ah ha! That’s it. We will enter the language for eternity. A House of Green Waters affair.

Such whimsy. Rest. You’re dilirious. I cannot leave you alone like this. I will speak to him. Maybe I can delay my departure. I have another problem to solve as well.

Ch’e-k’ai?

He has found out he could have left exile at the age of consent.

I told you he would find out some day and there would be problems.

He hates me.

He doesn’t hate you. He is incapable of hate. He’s our son. Pao-t’ien was your son with Mei-lin, but we raised Ch’e-k’ai. He’ll come around.

Father. I have walked to bao-ti’s rock and back and still cannot think why you would have treated me in such a way.

It was my right. I was afraid that you would come to harm. I wanted you here with me.

A son has no right. I know this. I must respect you in all things. But, if I had been given the chance to return home, I might have had a career. And I wouldn’t have the great fears I now have.

Fears? What is there to fear? I will be with you.

No you will not. I will need to prepare for the examinations. You will most likely never see me again once we return. You are old father. How many years do you have left?

How disrespectful.

Not so, sir. I can speak to our father in a way that you cannot. It is not your fault that you have been separated from us. It is not my fault that I have been exiled here. It is my father’s right to keep me in that separation. But sir, you are a stranger to us. You should know that whatever the plain truth is, it is better served up late with love than early in fear.

I do my duty, brother.

The true colors of a scholar official. My aspirations, eh? I too will be a slave to that imperial sense of duty that is inviolate. But then, who is fishing with birds now?

Whosh! It will be a dead bird.

I am puzzled by your insults.

Not insults brother - fact! And we know fact and truth are different, don’t we father?

Spoken like a true son of a Han Lin scholar.

The fact, dear brother is that our grand father was a fisherman, who lived at the edge of the River Li and who surrendered his happy life on Chicken Cage Hill for a farmer’s life - a gentry existance. He did this to create a family, strong in the traditions he little understood. Yet, he did it. We are the fruit of his choice. Pao-t’ien, you have had every advantage.

These hands are the same, except you have long fingernails, and I have blisters from fishing. It is ever thus with our family to have brothers who choose different paths, be it farming or fishing.

I do not understand you.

Father, forgive me for the anger. And forgive me for the fear I have in leaving. But, the advantage is mine. I know you understand the truth. I cannot leave the dawn on this river. I cannot leave this plae I know so well. I cannot join the legions of scholars who use their talents in service. I cannot wander this empire. There may have been a time. But, I need to remain here in my home.

We are home. Li, you are summoned and must go, but we will tend the radishes and fish the stream.

I know.

I cannot believe my ears, brother.

I am glad to have met you once again. And who knows, perhaps we will cross again.

I cannot abide this. I have such plans for you.

I have no plans for me. (to Li K’ai-men) Bao-bao li-ki-fai-shi-luk.

Stop that.

Enough!

Enough!

Son, my son. I am proud of you. You will stay here and take care of uncle . . .

. . . .your heart-song.

(kisses Ch’e-k’ai’s forehead) Mei-lin lives in you.

I must find Mung-k’u.

Life without you will be empty.

It better be. You better remember me as long as you live. We have made the same choices as our fathers and our sons.

I didn’t choose you. You were just there, that evening in your father’s house. You offered me some wine, wine that tasted like an old sandal. But your eyes flickered in the candlelight. Your hair was smooth in the midnight glow. And your skin was as soft as this vermillion robe. I loved you at first sight. I have loved you with that same brightness since that first night.

And you are the same to me throughout the years. Bodies have fallen. Health has failed. Hardships have closed upon us. But every night I have come into your bed like that first glowing instance, my love. There will never be another love like ours in all the Empire. It will be the shining star for all those who profess love. We are the map, with wrinkly contours to prove it.

(weeping) How can I do this?

There, there - remember I am Mei-lin’s gift. It was she that salvaged me from your weaknesses and gave me to your pillow in the starry night. When I see her again, I will thank her for us.

Father, it is time.

Ch’e-k’ai, I charge you with the life of this man. Respect him as you respect me.

Mi-ni-kua-ti Ta-bao, father.

Ta-ta bao, master.

One last kiss, partner.

How I envy the people of Chu-chun village.

My master and I traveled the long road home to Lin-an. We cross the waters to Kuang-nan. There was a triumphant return for my master in all the Southern cities. His poetry was read in public everywhere we went. There was great food and wine once again. I thought it would kill us before we reached the capital. Then there was the long boat trip down river to Yang-chou; and a parade southward to great Lin-an, sacred capital of the Southern Sung.

His Majesty, the Emperor Hsiao was glad to see my master, but more heartfelt was the reunion with the retired Emperor Kao. The new Emperor was having trouble with his consorts and disagreed constantly with the retired Emperor. It was his Majesty’s plan to have my master be the calming force over his old master.

Well, this was a good plan - only, my master was getting used to being a celebrity. Instead of one old man on the palace on the hill to contend with, the Emperor now had two old men.

But alas, the old Emperor died. Yes, died in my master’s arms. I was there that day as well. They fought like demons, you know. You’d think they had no respect for one another. But, there was probably so much respect that it turned brutal. Besides, my master never did forgive the Emperor Kao for the loss of Fu Lin-t’o.

Yes, Fu died on Hai-nan. A letter from Li Ch’e-k’ai arrived while we were still journeying down river. It was a sad day for my master. He sat for two days on the boat like a statue - a weeping statue. Such is the effects of a long line cut by a dull knife. As for Li Pao-t’ien, my master avoided him for the rest of his life.

Well, it was a long life indeed. With the old Emperor dead, the Emperor Hsaio granted my master’s request to retire to Gui-lin. After all these years of wandering and exile, he was at last able to return to Chicken Cage Hill.

See them, K’u Ko-ling?

See what?

The carp. They are there for the taking.

Master, they wouldn’t agree with you. You couldn’t digest them.

All we need is a frisky bird, you know. Where can we get one?

You couldn’t handle a pole, let alone a bird.

A bird, we need a bird.

Let me see. Do I have one about me? Do I? Well, no! Maybe in the hut.

Here birdie, birdie. None here.

Neighbor Wang had a great bird. We could borrow his. I know he’d lend it to us. But what good would it do. It needs to be dawn, when the moon is still up and the fish come to the lanterns and our songs.

No latern here either.

(stands) Father, let me hold the bird. Let me fish. Mother will have a bubbling wok tonight. Then we’ll go to the House of Green Waters for a drink. And in the back the old ladies squat in a circle and play fan-tan. I see them. The widow Ch’en always curses when she looses.

Father, here’s uncle’s servant with a message. Come father, what does it say? I cannot read. What does it say? Oh look at that carp. Ko-ling, where’s that bird?

(popping his head out) Found some dried pork.

(starts to pole the boat forward) Then there was the dragon’s pool. The breeze is cool there. I can see my reflection there, quite clearly.

Master, I wouldn’t stray from here. You get so confused. Dear me. Where’s he going?

Who’s face is that? I don’t know it. Is it mine? How old and drawn. How alone. Hello, face! Do you know Miao speech? Bao-bao di-ki-luk-mok?

There he goes again.

It’s your face master. Don’t scare the fish.

(pauses) Fool indeed. (looks up) What a sky. Look at those clouds. Look at this cloud (points to himself). You know K’u Ko-ling, it hasn’t been a bad life, you know.

If you say so, master. Of course, you didn’t work for you, you know.

You’ve been a good man, K’u Ko-ling.

What, a compliment? Something is indeed wrong.

(stands and pushes off with the pole) In the dragon’s pool I’ll find him. I will. I’m coming my heart-song, my lovely Fu Lin-t’o. You are life; and you are gone. Oh Fu, I will no longer fish alone.

Where did he go? Master! Master! Where are you?

Gone fishing. Or just gone. Phwush! Well, no one lives forever. Not even your servant, K’u Ko-ling.

Not even your servant. (bows)