Chapter 1: The Honey Dragon, 2nd March 2021
‘Turkish Elvish Honey’
Chairman Jing Xi of the Columnist Party of China, CPOC, studied the jar in anticipation. He was a man of extravagant taste, and it didn’t get fancier than this, buying honey that was worth its weight in gold. Jing smelled the honey, and the sensation took him a bit closer to heaven. He closed his eyes and Jing pictured himself on the top of the world, listening to serene music in a Tibetan temple on the top of a mountain.
The association with Tibet surprised Jing. He didn’t care for the monks and their music. Furthermore, the party that he oversaw, had brutally subjugated the Tibetan people some decades earlier. ‘Am I getting soft as my age advances?’ Jing thought for a moment.
Jing brushed off the notion. He was approaching 67 years of age, but he was still a man of power, and in many ways in the prime of his life. The longest living emperor, the Qianlong emperor who had lived in the 18th century had lived until the age of 87. Jing, who had expertise in both Chinese medicine and modern medicine, strived to outlive that legendary emperor.
Jing grabbed a spoon and ingested a spoonful of the exquisite honey. It tasted as amazing as it smelled, but as the taste faded in his mouth, Jing felt dissatisfied and restless. Eating honey that cost more than the average annual salary in China hadn’t resolved the issue that kept frustrating Jing and filled him with anger.
Jing felt that the people should worship him like they had worshipped the ancient emperors. Instead, his subjects were busy slandering him behind his back. How did the ungrateful masses dare to treat him like this? They should deify him for his leadership. During Jing’s reign as the Chairman of the Columnist Party, China had risen to its rightful place as the centre of the world. Yet the topic of this month’s column was an insult to his person. The WeChat voters had decided that this month’s topic should be: ‘How I intend to improve my character during the year of the Ox.’
This topic was nothing but dissent towards his leadership, and it was a dangerous column to write. He couldn’t admit having character flaws, as he represented the state, and the state was faultless. But he couldn’t be too arrogant either as that would contravene his promise to the people. Jing had promised the Chinese public a change when he reformed the Chinese Communist Party, CCP, into the Columnist Party of China, CPOC.
The name change of the party was Jing playing lip service to the Western world. This was to secure international trade that was crucial for his ambitions. Nothing had changed under his leadership, but at least he had given the people the chance to vote. Although Jing had restricted the popular vote to entail the topic of his monthly column in China Daily. This cosmetic change hadn’t caused him any grief until this month.
Jing closed his laptop. He wouldn’t write that article; the topic was beneath him. Instead, he would have sex to release his frustration. Jing’s latest concubine, the 23-year-old winner of the National Chinese pageant, the stunning Min Li, had improved Jing’s life in that aspect.
Jing summoned Min Li, and she told him that she would arrive in 30 minutes. Having summoned Min Li, Jing experienced restlessness and anticipation. He was 67 years old, and he was under a lot of stress. He needed to get a proper release, and he didn’t want any violent mishaps. Covering up his violence towards previous concubines had stolen a lot of energy.
Jing took out a Ziplock bag that contained a powder. The powder was a mixture of Viagra and ground rhino horn, and it always worked on him. Jing believed in mixing the best of Chinese and western medicine, and he followed this thesis in many aspects of his life.
30 minutes later, Min Li entered Jing’s residence, and she kneeled at his feet.
Min Li:
You summoned me, Heavenly Master. How can I serve you?
Jing:
I didn’t hire you for your intellect. So, shut up and use your mouth for something useful.
Min Li hesitated. She hated the way that Jing treated her, but she didn’t dare to argue with the supreme leader. Reluctantly, she kneeled next to the Jing and unbuttoned his exquisite silk pants.
Jing:
Good dog. Obey your master.
Having said this, Jing sighed as his young mistress gave him fellatio. If it could only release his anger, but it was in vain. Jing wanted to punch the bitch for doing it wrong, but he controlled himself. Instead, he took her from behind and he felt relieved when he came. Now, he could send her away while keeping his self-respect.
As he had finished, Jing threw Min’s clothes to her and spoke:
Wash up and make sure to look good for tomorrow’s photoshoot. I don’t want any more stuff-ups!
Dismissed.
Min Li, who struggled to contain her tears, got dressed and rushed to leave Jing’s residence.
Jing got seated by his computer. He checked if the advanced AI that supervised the Chinese population had found any new enemies. It had. Jing cursed at himself. Of course, there would be dissenters in a country with 1.4 billion inhabitants. The ancient emperors were wise, secluding themselves in their forbidden cities. That way, they had never faced the opinions of regular citizens. Jing knew that he shouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help himself. Knowing which enemies, the AI had identified, was his drug, and he could not break the vicious addiction.
Jing’s eyes got fixated on the file of Eileen Lu. Her file said that she was a 28-year-old lawyer and civil rights activist. Eileen had recently got one of his enemies, Ming Shebao, acquitted in the people’s court of Xuwan. It was unbelievable that the courts in HIS country had acquitted one of his enemies, but it was an issue that he needed to deal with. Jing stared at Eileen’s photo for a long time.
Eileen’s beauty captivated Jing, and he knew that he needed to own her. Yet, Jing’s power wasn’t absolute. While he could eliminate the enemies of the republic, he couldn’t kidnap and rape people on his whim. The rest of his party would never allow it. But he would own Eileen one way or the other, and she would regret defying him. Filled with rage, Jing picked up his expensive jar of honey and threw it against the wall, splashing honey across the room.
