Prologue

The streets of Beijing were unusually empty and eerily still on this rather coldNovember night. The only people occupying the normally busy roads were grocers packing up their stalls, while snacking on the produce they were unable to sell. There were no soccer balls to be seen and no rambunctious youths playing the game. Most of the cities population was either sitting comfortably on the couches in their living rooms (that is if they could afford couches) or crowded around the forbidden palace, with the purpose of seeing the presidential ceremony. In fact, millions of individuals from every corner of the Earth switched on their televisions to watch General Guo Rong make his first appearance as president of the Peoples Republic of China. Yu Zei was one of the many rushing towards the scarlet stage, on which Guo Rong was due to appear on in twenty minutes. Although she may not have seemed to be very different from the rest of the numerous Asians, eager to heed on the words of their new leader, a closer look into the attractive female would have proven otherwise. Dressed almost completely in denim with white Nikes on her feet, her dark hair up in a ponytail, a tape recorder in her left coat pocket, and a revolver for protection in her inner pocket, this 27 year old reporter was determined to make it to the front of the crowd for a better view of the ceremony, as she was writing the story of a life time while trying to explain her haunting childhood. She hoped that writing this story could explain why she spent 10 years in an orphanage, why her mother died days after giving birth to her only daughter, and finally the identity of her father.

Pushing ones way through any crowd is a difficult task to accomplish in almost every instance, so it is fairly easy to understand that a crowd of 250,000 excited Beijing citizens makes it nearly impossible. Yu’s first approach to this task was to politely force her way through. Quickly walking up to a rather large man, no shorter than 6’3, Yu attempted to push herself past him with failure. Not giving up, she tapped his shoulder, trying to get his attention. The man turned around, but being almost a foot taller than Yu, he turned back, thinking it was his imagination. Even though this valiant attempt failed, the stubborn reporter did not plan on giving up any time soon. Relocating herself to another part of the edge of the crowd, she attempted again, this time with success.

Ten minutes have passed before Yu emerged from the mass, with a clear of view of the scarlet stage. The stage was located in front of the Tiananmen Gate – the first gate leading to the Forbidden City, with a large Chinese flag enveloping the back wall. Yu stared at the flag, and realized just how much she has come to loathe the five gold stars. The stage itself was painted bright red, almost crimson, with red carpets covering every inch of the floor. A wooden podium stood near the front and 5 chairs were placed towards the back, one was rather larger than the rest. Blocking the stage from the people was a line of soldiers with machine guns, dressed in traditional Red Guard uniforms, their faces lacking the slightest tinge of emotion. A man carrying a seemingly expensive Kodak camera surfaced from the crowd and quickly approached Yu, while she was still mesmerized by the excessive amount of red.

“What are you doing here Yu? I thought I told you to drop this story!” he whispered as she turned to look at the camera man.

“Calm down Shae, I know exactly what I am doing.” calmly replied Yu, with a slight British accent.

“Don’t fool yourself! We both know that this story is a complete waste of time. Even if you are right about Rong, there is absolutely no way to prove it, and you are going to get yourself killed for trying!” he said loudly enough to be heard by the woman to the left of them. Yu was about to reply, but was interrupted by the deafening beating of drums and the booming sound of the dizi, a sorts of flute made from bamboo - the ceremony has begun. She turned away from her 5’9, black haired, brown eyed, 38 year old boss, and focused on the ceremony.

The drumming went on until the crowd descended into silence; an action which to Yu’s surprise took no longer than a minute. Mao Huang, the prime minister of China, slowly came into view as the drummers left the stage. This 68 year old man was dressed in an Armani suit, a questionable decision in the eyes of some, black dress shoes, and a blue tie. Yu could not help noticing the prime ministers frail nature and feeble walk.

“Fellow citizens of China, I thank you all for being here today. As you all know, our president, Wei Ranchi, was recently killed. But let me assure you. His death was brought upon by the actions of a delirious man, who was captured later that day and faced Chinese justice.” Huang spoke into his microphone. His passionless tone was hidden by the amplification of the speakers and was received with much support from the crowd, as they cheered at his words. Even Yu, who was preserving the speech with the aid of her tape recorder, gave out a quiet word of support. She supported Ranchi in his attempts to end the communist regime, and introduce capitalism to China. Once the people settled down, Huang continued.

“Let us now have a minute of silence in the honour of our beloved president.” With these words, every living soul in a 1,000m radius, bowed his head and set off into complete silence. As Yu was waiting for the minute to end, she felt the cold wind against her cheek and heard the sound of a dog barking in the distance. The minute, which seemed like an hour to some, soon came to an end, and Huang returned to his speech.

“Even though this unfortunate event has brought much grief to China, we must focus on the future, and the future belongs to our new leader. It gives me great honour to introduce Chinas next president, the magnificent Guo Rong!” The audience roared as Huang stepped down from the podium, and Rong entered the stage. This was what Yu was waiting for, the biggest story of her life began here and the journey for answers began here.

As Rong made his way up to the podium, every muscle in Yu’s body tensed up, and she grasped the tape recorder with all he strength, forgetting her stress ball at home. The new president slowly ascended the stairs to the podium. His large forehead, strained face, and dark eyebrows created a menacing image. Guo was dressed very similarly to Mao, although his shoes had thicker soles, probably to conceal his actual height. When he completed his journey to the podium, he observed the crowd in a meticulous manner before beginning his speech.

“Joseph Stalin once said ‘I believe in one thing only, the power of human will.’ Well, I believe that the people of China have the strongest will of all. Together we can and we will rise above our enemies be it poverty, starvation, or capitalism. As your new leader, I pledge to you that I will do anything and everything possible to make China into a leading world power, and to create a better world for all of you!” As expected, Guo’s speech generated an enormous applause from the audience, and Yu was the only being with a scowl on her face.

The speech lasted for another twenty minutes, covering present issues in China, and the controversial plans of action Rong was planning to take, at least they seemed controversial to Yu, and only Yu. The people exploded every few minutes with applause, causing the reporter to question her hearing at the end. Two more hours have passed before the ceremony finally ended with an extravagant fireworks display, Yu’s hate for China only escalating as she stared at five golden stars in the sky – the very emblem for communism and evil in Yu’s opinion. Once Huang ‘officially’ concluded the ceremony, everyone began to leave, everyone but Yu. She stood back observing Rong amble into his limo, parked a few metres to the left of the stage, with his army of body guards following the luxurious vehicle as it rode off into the distance. As Yu watched the limo disappear, she thought of all the hardships she faced as a child, all the poverty she witnessed as a reporter, and all the cruelty she witnessed every day as a person, realizing that Rong will simply magnify the horror in his country. This terrible idea left her feeling dread and despair, but not discouragement from her quest for truth.