Frightened and restless, the whole family of the middle-aged villager treated the investigators strangely. The wife bustled in and out, hands sticky with flour paste, their daughter following her mother in confusion. The villager himself showed up with a flushed face; he smoked hissingly on a long-stemmed Chinese pipe, his trembling fingers unable to strike a match.
Zheng Quanzhang suddenly had a certain premonition.
“Well, it was not true. Not true . . .” the villager said, his long face turning red. “I was mistaken . . . mistaken . . .” He trailed off, staring at Zheng and the clerk and then casting his eyes down, his thumb pressing the pipe bowl.
He resumed his testimony. “The other day I went to find the team leader. I wanted to contract for some Chinese parasol trees. When I came to the office window, I heard Director Ma say to the team leader and the accountant, ‘You two each get five days according to the Bureau’s decision.’ I mistook it as ‘You two each get five grand, the same as the Bureau’s payments.’”
“How do you know you were wrong?”
“They came to my house to correct it.” His wife blinked rapidly, and he revised his story. “No, wait, they didn’t come to me. Instead, I was afraid that I wronged them, so I went to them to correct it. Not only they themselves, but also their wives and children, agreed that I’d gotten it wrong.”
Zheng Quanzhang sank into silence and smiled coldly. He couldn’t be cross with the peasant; he should try to persuade him.
“I was a countryman too,” Zheng began. “I know how important money is to a peasant. The four mu of land was sold for forty thousand yuan, and only twenty thousand appeared in your team’s account. If we find the rest of the money, then each household on your team would get an average of six or seven hundred yuan.” The man was listening attentively. Zheng continued, “Old Brother, beat out the evil and tell us the truth—don’t let the whole team down. You know that the government and the law will protect you. You mustn’t be frightened.” The villager nodded his head again and again, blushing to the base of his neck.
But his wife spoke up: “He was telling the truth, the whole truth!”
“Right,” the man echoed weakly, “I was telling you the whole truth.”
Saying nothing more, Zheng and the clerk left the poor family.
“They certainly corrected themselves suddenly,” Zheng Quanzhang declared.
They went to find the team leader and the accountant.
Apparently mistaking the neatly dressed and broadly built clerk as an important figure, and Zheng Quanzhang, young and poorly dressed, as a follower, the team leader and the accountant spoke directly to the clerk.
“Nothing wrong! There is nothing wrong,” said the team leader, a sincere expression on his round face.
“Well then, where are the twenty thousand yuan?” asked Zheng Quanzhang.
The team leader finally noticed him. He looked into Zheng’s eyes and then quickly looked away. He smiled to his accountant.
“This is an affair of our production team.” He avoided Zheng Quanzhang’s gaze.
“I would like to know where the money is today.”
The team leader hung his head, smiling coldly, and then suddenly his expression changed, and he looked up. “Who do you think you are, with your shabby salaries and all your concern!” he shouted loudly. “I won’t tell you.”
“Then I might have to resort to the law.”
The team leader was huffing and puffing. Zheng’s words finally sunk in. He made as if to open the cash drawer, but then stopped and flipped the clasp of the lock. “OK, I’ll tell you,” he said, looking pale. “We contacted Tibet to buy cattle for our production team, with each household receiving one head. If we had entered it in the accounts, the production brigade would get all the money and we would have no cows. We didn’t tell the villagers for fear that the information would be leaked.”
What he said sounded reasonable. But Zheng Quanzhang returned quickly, “Who in Tibet got the money? I want to have a look at the receipt.”
The team leader refused to take out the receipt. He pulled the accountant away and insisted that Zheng and the clerk leave the office, complaining repeatedly that Zheng might turn their operation into a bad situation.
Zheng considered his position. If what they said was the truth, it would be only slightly inappropriate with the financial formalities. If they were lying, they were looking at a serious embezzlement of public funds. But when it became public, the embezzlement would fail and they’d have to return the money.
Next they went to visit the man who’d witnessed Ma Zhankui carrying a rifle in a fortified area during the Cultural Revolution. He too refused to stand by his original testimony. He said that he later realized that the person he’d seen was another man who looked like Ma Zhankui, but was not Ma Zhankui. He claimed he’d been mistaken. He pulled out a new written testimony he had prepared.
The situation became complicated.
Zheng Quanzhang was coming to understand that Ma possessed unusual powers and remarkable abilities. How crafty he was! What meticulous preparations! Shame on him, such a devious scoundrel!
Rage poured out from the bottom of Zheng’s heart. He began to blame himself for his lack of preparation and experience. He should have investigated more thoroughly and gathered enough evidence to build an airtight case. He’d jeopardized the investigation by acting in such a rush. We must find a way to make everything clear, he thought. One has to face many difficulties . . .
He returned to his office, annoyed, and gave Secretary Bai a truthful account of what had happened.
In the evening, Vice-Secretary Tang came to the county compound. After speaking with Secretary Bai, he paid a special visit to Zheng Quanzhang, who was at home discussing affairs with some visitors.
Secretary Bai shouted outside Zheng Quanzhang’s door: “Quanzhang, Vice-Secretary Tang comes to visit you!”
Zheng felt a special kind of resentment well up in him, driving him to prepare for a confrontation with the vice-secretary. He wanted to let Tang know that not all the party members and cadres were cowards, worthless wretches, soft in sticking to the truth. He would find a way to make Vice-Secretary Tang respect the cadres and masses and to remind Tang of his own responsibilities. Adrenaline made Zheng eager for the provocation and careless about courtesy and formalities. Not until Vice-Secretary Tang held his hand did he realize that he had behaved with complete indiscretion as the others were leaving the house.
“You might take a seat,” Vice-Secretary Tang said.
He was a leader in his fifties; he had an elderly, generous, kind face with a wrinkled forehead. He was an ordinary old man wearing an old blue, fur-collared overcoat. His breath smelled of cigarettes, and he was missing some teeth. These observations, together with Tang’s elderly and feeble hands, suddenly evoked in Zheng Quanzhang sympathy and reverence.
The confrontation dissipated.
“You are so young!” said Vice-Secretary Tang. “I thought you were in your forties, but Secretary Bai just told me that you’re only twenty-nine years old.” He sounded friendly and genial. He looked at Zheng Quanzhang lovingly, obviously recalling his own youth. “You have accomplished a lot.”
Secretary Bai smiled. “Comrade Quanzhang is indeed very hardworking.”
“Young and promising,” Vice-Secretary Tang concurred. “The prefecture committee knows about you. Your position on this problem—in my view, it is not big.” He didn’t make it clear whether the position was not big or the problem was not big.
His last sentence destroyed Zheng Quanzhang’s goodwill for the man. Was that a deal or a threat? Suddenly he despised the old man. Vice-Secretary Tang was like the complaining old Ninth Grandpa in his village or an old bureau chief who would rather die than retire from his position, insisting he still had some suggestions to offer and demanding that his overage son take his position. The adrenaline was returning to Zheng Quanzhang . . . but Vice-Secretary Tang had already begun to take his le
ave.
After the leader had gone, Secretary Bai asked anxiously and reproachfully, “What’s the matter?”
“I was in a bad mood.”
“Business is business. You shouldn’t behave that way. Remember, he visited you specially.”
“He was performing the sword dance while planning an attempt on my life. He was acting with covert, wicked motives.”
“Forget it. Report what you have about Ma Zhankui to the leader, and let the whole thing pass. When Ma has other problems, we’ll get him examined again. After all, he’s only a powerless Fertilizer Bureau chief!”
“Fertilizer is one of the lifelines of the rural people. You could downgrade the power of such a chief,” Zheng Quanzhang said. “Did you promise something to Vice-Secretary Tang?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I did tell you that if there was any problem, you could pass the buck to me.”
“But I didn’t do so.”
“Then how did you reply?”
“I said we might consider it.”
“Then have it be considered by the standing committee!” Zheng said indignantly. “If a suspicious character like Ma were nominated for a new leadership position, you’d report it immediately!”
Secretary Bai’s smooth, pale face blushed. He was rubbing his hands and looking into Zheng Quanzhang’s eyes blandly, calmly, and wisely.
“Comrade Quanzhang,” said Secretary Bai, “we haven’t gotten along with each other for a long time, but what I’ve heard and seen have told me the same thing: you are upright, intelligent, and capable. You are a good comrade who is determined to carry out reforms. You are young and have brains and a bright future. I don’t worry about myself, for I hold my position, and they could not shake me off. But I’m afraid you might spoil the ship for a halfpenny-worth of tar.”
“I’m not afraid,” Zheng Quanzhang said. “At worst, he might not approve of my appointment as the minister of organization. If so, he should give me a reason. Besides, I believe that in the prefecture committee, everything doesn’t hinge on one man!” He felt confident that he was honest and upright and strong enough.
That night, he had his supper quite late and fell into a sound sleep with his hands under his head, fingers in his thick, black hair, oblivious to the entire world.
4
County Party Committee Secretary Bai didn’t tell lies; he was truly worried about Zheng Quanzhang. The fair-complexioned leader, with his flaccid wrinkled cheeks and strong forehead, was by no means unwise. He was different from those foolish leaders who expected their subordinates to be more foolish than they. Ambitious in his career, he hoped to make a change during his term of office. He desired all his cadres to be upright, intelligent, and capable. Although he was new in his position, he was quite satisfied with the standing committee members provided by the former county Party Committee secretary and other Reform bodies.
Bai was especially satisfied with Zheng Quanzhang, the personnel director of the Organization Reform Group. When Bai had first arrived, he hadn’t believed that Zheng was only twenty-nine, so he consulted Zheng’s personnel files to confirm it. Zheng was born in 1955. After high school he did physical labor at a people’s commune and then joined the Party one year later. Making unremitting efforts to improve himself, Zheng was appointed vice-secretary of the commune, earning his salary from the commune-run enterprises. Later on, he became a registered cadre and was promoted to secretary. When the cadre school enrolled new students, Zheng was enrolled with an average score of 96; he graduated three years later to do service for the county Organization Committee. During his three years in the cadre school, he learned a lot of obscure information in courses such as philosophy, political economics, the international Communist Party movement, literature, aesthetics, psychology, Chinese history, world history, and management. His ideas and talents were far beyond his age, yet his character and mettle were like unpolished rocks. In his daily duties, he showed sophisticated clear-sightedness and maturity; but with his wife, he was still a young man.
Secretary Bai had once come upon evidence of the man’s youth. Zheng was sitting at home with his feet soaking in a basin; he looked angry and was shouting. Although his wife, standing behind him, wore a smile, she was shaking him with both hands on his shoulders. When Secretary Bai came in, Zheng shouted, “Stop!” He kicked the basin angrily, and with one wet foot touching the floor, hopped lightly to the bed for his slippers. With a shout, his wife arched her back to pass the slippers to him. Zheng looked at Secretary Bai, blushed, and said with a smirk, “My mother always said you should give wives a kind heart instead of a kind face.”
His wife snapped, “What a male chauvinist!”
Zheng answered back, “Better that than a female chauvinist!”
Surprised at this rancorous scene, Secretary Bai retreated from their house.
But all things considered, Secretary Bai didn’t want to lose this man. True, sometimes Zheng Quanzhang scowled at him and spoke sharply against him, which annoyed Secretary Bai—yet still he liked Zheng and wanted him to be his minister of organization. Bai would rather put Ma—such a mean sod—temporarily out of power than penalize Zheng Quanzhang.
Secretary Bai had repeatedly asked the prefecture Party Committee to promote Zheng Quanzhang to minister of the county organization as soon as possible. The last time, the head of the committee office told him that they’d received a letter making many serious allegations against Zheng Quanzhang; the leader had recommended a prompt investigation. He refused to tell Secretary Bai who had written the letter, but he said that Zheng was accused of abusing power for personal gain. Zheng was said to have fraudulently purchased state-controlled commodities, like chemical fertilizer and lumber, and was accused of being conceited and arbitrary, acting high and mighty, and even of having an extramarital affair.
The spurious claims made Secretary Bai bitterly angry. Somebody was counterattacking Zheng Quanzhang. Bai faced a dilemma: on one hand, he could not turn a deaf ear to the malicious attacks or the written communications from the higher authorities, for that would go against the organizational principles; on the other hand, if he sent a working group to investigate the allegations, rumors would spread quickly and ruin Zheng Quanzhang. Unable to resolve the dilemma, Secretary Bai decided to talk to Zheng Quanzhang in person, hoping to keep the accusations under control.
To his surprise, Zheng Quanzhang remained cool and collected, saying only, “I expected this, and I’m ready for whatever happens. Go and investigate!” He didn’t show the slightest bit of anger. He calmly requested to address the investigators directly. The county secretary assigned the case and would not address Zheng in person.
Still, although no one knew exactly what happened, news spread overnight all across the county.
“Please send the investigation group,” Zheng directed Bai. “Otherwise you will be under suspicion of covering up for me.”
At last the investigation group was set up, and Zheng Quanzhang gravely appeared before them. “When I graduated from the Central Cadres School, I bought two bags of urea and two bags of diammonium phosphate for my contracted fields; I purchased them through an old classmate, from his production-service company. I also bought a truckload of urea for my production team, at the state-set price. And with the director’s permission, I bought four beams and thirty rafters.
“On my salary of forty-five yuan a month, I couldn’t afford the negotiated price of fertilizer and black-market lumber. The kitchen in my parents’ house is a thatched shack. The roof leaks whenever it rains—my mother is always complaining about it. I plan to buy more rafters to rebuild it into a tile-roofed kitchen. All the lumber I bought is still in my parents’ house.
“As for the woman who often visits me, she was my high school classmate. She likes to discuss social problems with me. All we do is talk together—it’s completely innocent.”
One investigator asked sarcastically, “Is that all?”
Zheng Quanzhang narrow
ed his eyes at him and said, “When I was a child, I got a good beating from my mother when I stole some melons from the production team.” He paused. “That is all.”
The investigators interviewed the production-service corporation, the lumber company, the coworkers of the female classmate, and Zheng Quanzhang’s parents.
Secretary Bai’s stomach was knotted in pain. He soon learned that the investigation confirmed what Zheng Quanzhang had told them—but nevertheless the county committee held a special meeting and formed an impartial written resolution to be reported to the prefecture committee. Bai knew from experience that other pressures awaited Zheng Quanzhang. He watched the developments with growing concern.
Many visitors tried to squeeze the news out of Secretary Bai, and he noticed people looking inquiringly and suspiciously at Zheng Quanzhang. He began hearing that Zheng had trouble keeping control of those under his command. Villagers from Zheng’s hometown started coming to the county to dig for information, and several of Zheng’s relatives visited him in quick succession.
Soon Zheng Quanzhang’s mother arrived, walking with a cane. It was reported that she’d brought with her a bag of eggs. When she saw her son’s angular figure, she cried and said, “Come back home with me! Don’t be an official anymore! We returned all the unused lumber, and we’ll buy more fertilizer to cover the damage. What is important is you—and you should not worry about the charges. Come home!”
How tough Zheng Quanzhang was! He ignored what was happening to him and went on with his work unfazed, never complaining to anyone. When he met with Secretary Bai to report on his work, he interrupted Bai’s attempts to discuss the case with an exhortation to get down to business and leave others alone.
When Zheng turned to leave, he walked away with purposeful, hurried steps, his thin spine sturdy and straight. One could hear the rustling swish of his departing jacket, ragged at the hem. The heels of his cloth-soled shoes were worn and twisted.
But things went from bad to worse. Every day there were new letters from the prefecture Party Committee, implicating Zheng Quanzhang. And then Secretary Bai got some gloomy news: While most of the investigators thought it was nothing serious, there was one voice that held that, although Zheng might not be abusing power for personal gain, he had somehow made purchases that ordinary farmers could not have negotiated. So the final decision was made. Since Zheng Quanzhang had aroused intense public suspicion, he would not be promoted to county minister of organization. Not only would he not be promoted—in the process of streamlining midlevel leadership, Zheng’s current position would have to be reconsidered.
Old Land, New Tales: Twenty Short Stories by Writers of the Shaanxi Region in China Page 11