This state of affairs, however,
did not continue. The chieftains, who had ruled the land for
generations, were unknowingly heading towards their end because
of their own misdeeds.
It all started
when a Han Chinese official, the Special Emissary Huang, visited
Maichi with lavish gifts, including modern weapons and tiny gray
seeds. Plant these, he said, and see your wealth multiply.
These were poppy
seeds and that year, opium was planted on Maichi land. As
promised, poppies brought wealth, making Maichi the richest and
the most powerful land.
News reached other
chieftains, who tried their best to get hold of the seeds, but
to no avail. Meanwhile, the Special Emissary Huang was replaced
by a new official, who distributed the seeds to other chieftains
as well.
The entire area
was brought under opium cultivation. Not even a single grain was
planted. Disaster loomed large. The people who had lived a life
of comfort were in for bad times. The well-stocked warehouses,
which were a thing of pride for them, no longer sustained them.
The Maichis, who
had plenty of money, bought Han grain but at a very high price.
The ongoing war between the Red Chinese and the White Chinese
had inflated the grain prices.
Spring came and
the question that haunted Chieftain Maichi was: What should be
planted? Grain or Poppy? Still unmindful of the previous year's
consequences, the first son said, "Poppy". But the
"idiot" announced, "Grain, nothing but
grain", raising a question in the minds of the rest: How
could an idiot give such advice? Was he really an idiot?
Anyway, grain was
planted and the Maichis did good trade at the expense of other
Chieftains who had planted poppies.
Wealth came but
not without problems. An enemy of the Maichis, who was in search
of the right opportunity, kills the first son while he was
asleep. The Maichi Chieftain loses his heir and the idiot son,
though wise, is not thought fit to be his successor.
While Maichi
struggles to stabilise its government, the Red Chinese defeat
the white Chinese, toppling the Chinese government. By the time
Red Chinese arrive in the 1950s, the chieftains have lost their
power to fight.
The land, which
was once their own, slips out of their hands. Their insatiable
greed for wealth had landed them in trouble. Even though some
had surrendered, they would never get the same respect. As for
those who had died, no one was left to commemorate them, not
even the 100-feet-high-seven-storeyed fortress.
Written in an
engaging style, the novel has won China's top literary prize,
the Mao Dun Prize. A title well-deserved for a book
well-appreciated.
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