Zhang Yìmóu
Lanterne Rosse

Let me tell you a story.

I pause for a moment in my incessant wandering from one corner to another of this house, illuminated by the red of these damned lanterns, and I tell you a story. The master won't come. Our master doesn't come anymore to his beautiful and young Songlian. She's no longer his favorite, not anymore... Someone younger and sweeter will receive a foot massage tonight and will have the house illuminated by the lanterns, not me, not anymore. I have long been just a ghost, a specter wandering endlessly.

I want to tell you the story of Meishan. The wonderful Meishan. Her nightingale-like voice, her sweetest song will never again brighten this house, but it echoes incessantly in my head. The third sister, who welcomed me with chuckles and pranks, was not my enemy, not her. She had tried to warn me about the meanness and hypocrisy of this house. A soprano with a seductive voice, young and beautiful, she had warned me about the evil of Zhuo Yun, our second sister who, pretending solidarity and affection, deeply hated me. How foolish I was. To abandon university studies for what? To plunge into madness in this house of hypocrites!

Dear Meishan, I will never forgive myself for what happened. Only my fault, it was all my fault... I was the only one who knew you were going to meet your doctor. But that morning, while I stared into the void questioning the meaning of life, hearing you sing and seeing you so cheerful hurt me. I envied you. You lightly told me, "Everything is representation. If you act well, you deceive others; if you act poorly, you deceive yourself; and if you're not able to deceive yourself, all you have left are ghosts."

And I have become a ghost. Since Meishan was hanged in the death room above the terrace, after this brutal murder that happened because of me, I find no more peace. I only wish you would turn off these damned red lanterns, which have caused nothing but harm... Leave me in peace.