Jiang Qing, originally named Li Yunhe, was from Shandong. Her stage name was Lan Ping. When she first arrived in Yan’an, she changed her name to Jiang Qing, implying “indigo blue surpassing blue.” She was Mao’s fourth wife.

Mao greatly missed Jiang Qing, this “dog” of his. At midnight, Jiang Qing’s spirit suddenly appeared beside Mao. Mao was overjoyed and hurried to greet her. Jiang Qing also hurried to help him sit down, and impatiently began pouring out her grievances:

“Only a month after you passed away, before your body was even cold, they arrested me. They said I carried out the Cultural Revolution by using you to do bad things. I said I was merely carrying out your instructions. To put it plainly, I was your dog—whoever you told me to bite, I bit. Yet I felt wronged. But my arguments were useless.”

Mao: “Separating me from you, preserving my name and status, and placing all the blame on you—that was Deng Xiaoping’s strategy. He still needed to use me as a banner to rule. Once you understand that, you won’t feel so aggrieved.”

Jiang Qing: “Then I became the scapegoat. I am unwilling to accept that.”

Mao: “Originally, I intended to groom you as my successor. I had no sons left. I could not trust others. Only you had been with me for nearly thirty years—you were loyal to me, and I trusted you. That is why during the Cultural Revolution I let you step forward to take the lead. Even Zhou Enlai understood this tacitly—he shouted slogans of learning from you and saluting you. Was that not obvious? I told you to be the power behind the scenes, to appear less and speak less, and let others charge ahead. But you were accustomed to being an actress—you couldn’t resist performing. That only bred resentment. You were not suited to be a Confucian elder. I tried to elevate you, but you could not stand firm. Deng Xiaoping, moreover, was unwilling to play Zhou Enlai’s role in assisting you to take the proper position. So in the end, I could only push Hua Guofeng to the forefront. I did not expect Hua Guofeng, under pressure of circumstances, would join forces to arrest you.”

Jiang Qing: “Zhang Chunqiao and Wang Hongwen were both useless. They had no troops, no real power. Once you were gone, everything collapsed. However tough I was, I could not hold it together. I had no choice but to wait to be arrested.”

Mao asked with concern: “After they sent you to Qincheng Prison, they did not mistreat you, did they?”

Jiang Qing: “It was tolerable. Living conditions and medical care were acceptable. I could read and write. I even wrote memoirs. But in the end I developed throat cancer and often suffered pain. Doctors advised surgery to save my life. I feared that after surgery I would no longer be able to speak or sing. I thought that even if I reached heaven, I would still want to sing ‘The Fisherman’s Revenge’ for you.”

Mao: “When you sang ‘The Fisherman’s Revenge’ in Yan’an, I loved it most. You were in your twenties then—you sang with real charm.”

Jiang Qing: “After I sang that opera, you transferred me to your side. So I wanted to preserve my throat, so that even in heaven I could sing for you.”

Mao asked: “How was your cancer treated in the end? Was it cured?”

Jiang Qing: “I knew it could not be cured—only prolonged. In the end, the suffering became unbearable. So in 1991, I chose to hang myself. I was seventy-seven—considered a long life.”

Mao: “What happened to your memoirs?”

Jiang Qing: “I handed them over. I know they will not publish them; they do not suit their taste. Nor would they allow them to be published abroad. I left a record to testify for history. Justice will be judged by later generations. Don’t you agree?”

Mao: “Yes. Do you yourself feel any remorse?”

Jiang Qing: “No. I still feel indignant. I followed you—what wrong did I commit?”

Mao: “You followed me, so of course the main guilt lies with me—I was the principal; you were an accomplice. With me, you rose to great prominence for more than a decade. The ending was bad. Wherever communism was practiced in the world, the results were poor; you were no exception. An accomplice also bears responsibility and must reflect and confess. If you do not admit guilt, the Chinese people will not forgive you.”

Jiang Qing: “Very well then. I will see how far your repentance goes, and I will follow you to that point.”

Mao asked again: “Did your earlier romantic history have any impact on you?”

Jiang Qing: “When they handled my case, out of respect for you, they did not touch upon my romantic scandals. You know, my former husband Tang Na was so infatuated with me that he attempted suicide twice. After Liberation, fearing I would persecute him, he left Hong Kong for the United States, then went to Paris, where he lived under an assumed name and opened a restaurant. He was discovered by reporters, and even the restaurant had to close. After your death, in 1985 he unexpectedly returned to China. The Ministry of State Security received him, and Ye Jianying met him. It turned out he had been with the Central Investigation Department. He even said he would write memoirs—had he done so, would that not have exposed my romantic scandals and embarrassed both of us? Fortunately, he died of illness in 1988, lifting a great weight from my heart.”

Mao: “Your romantic affairs even drew international interest. You were beautiful and captivating—everyone liked you. There is even an opera abroad, ‘Madame Mao,’ with you as the protagonist. In the United States there is the opera ‘Nixon in China,’ in which both you and I appear. It has been performed in Europe and America for thirty years without fading, and you even have a long solo. It shows that the international stage still has a place for you.”

Hearing this, Jiang Qing grew especially excited; her desire to perform resurfaced. “Wonderful! I still have a place on the stage. I will sing for you forever.”

Mao: “Good! I will listen to you sing in the future.”

Hearing that she still appeared on the international stage, Jiang Qing beamed with delight. After this conversation with Mao, feeling satisfied, she rose to bid farewell and departed.

NEXT: 55. Chen Boda (1904–1989)