Fortress Besieged

by Qian Zhongshu

  Very little of what is said at meetings is related to the approval of or opposition to a particular motion. Some oppose the resolution because of a difference of opinion with the person making it. Others approve the resolution because they do not get along with those opposing it. Some go along because of their connections with the people opposing or approving it. That day’s discussion, however, was different from the usual, even to the extent that both Liu Tung-fang and Han Hsüeh-yü opposed the resolution. The rule regarding tutors and students dining together was unanimously protested, those with families voicing the strongest opposition. The Physics Department chairman, who had not brought his family with him, said that they would not even consider the resolution unless the school paid for the tutors’ meals. Wang Ch’u-hou, whose home cooking was famous, said that even if the school did pay for the tutors’ meals, their families had to cook just the same, and that one less person eating made no difference in the cost of fuel and rice. Han Hsüeh-yü said that with his stomach trouble he could eat only noodles and bread. If he had to eat rice with the students, was the school ready to guarantee his health? Li Mei-t’ing insisted that this was the regulation as promulgated by the ministry and that, at the most, Saturday dinner and all three meals on Sunday could be exempted. The chairman of the Mathematics Department then asked Li how the tutors were to be divided among the tables. This had Li stymied.

  There were more than forty professors, associate professors, and lecturers qualified to be tutors, while the 130-odd male students were not enough to make up twenty tables. If there were one tutor and six students at each table, that would leave twenty tutors unable to eat with the students. If there were one tutor and seven students at each table, the tutor would be too far outnumbered to maintain proper respect and would gradually incur the students’ contempt. If they tried having two tutors and four students per table, considering that the food was said to be inadequate for the present eight to a table, decreasing the number of people and increasing the number of tables would only make matters worse. Was the school prepared to subsidize the food costs? With the help of figures, they became even more convinced of the righteousness of their cause, getting Li Mei-t’ing so flustered that he couldn’t speak. He took off his black glasses, then put them back on, then took them off, looking over wide-eyed at Kao Sung-nien. At this juncture Chao Hsin-mei gave his view that the students too should have freedom in how they ate, and they should unite with other universities to protest the tutorial system.

  In the end the original draft was considerably revised. It was decided that each tutor would eat at least two meals with the students every week according to a schedule drawn up by the office of the Dean of Students. Because the inspector from the ministry had said that at Oxford and Cambridge the teachers gave a blessing in Latin before and after each meal, Kao Sung-nien felt they should do the same. But since China, unlike England, had no Christian god to hear the prayers of the world below, there was nothing to say before and after meals. Li Mei-t’ing racked his brains, but could only come up with the line, “Give thought to the toil behind each bowl of rice and gruel.” Everyone roared with laughter at this.

  The chairman of the Economics Department, the father of a large brood of children, muttered, “Just say what my son says: ‘Before eating, don’t run about. After eating, don’t jump and shout.’”

  Kao Sung-nien fixed him with a cold stare and said solemnly, “I think that before everyone sits down to eat, if the Dean of Students led the students in a minute of silence to reflect on the hardships of the people during the War of Resistance and what we could do to repay the country and the society for enjoying our fill, that would be a very meaningful gesture.”

  The Economics Department chairman said quickly, “I’d like to move the president’s suggestion.”

  Li Mei-t’ing seconded the motion. Kao Sung-nien put it to a vote and it was passed unanimously. Li Mei-t’ing, whose mind was always busily at work, anticipated that many of the professors would put down their chopsticks after eating half a bowl of rice with the students and slip out of the dining hall to go home and eat in comfort, so he made the following dining hall regulations: The tutors’ bowls were to be filled with rice by the students first, and the students were to wait for the tutors to finish eating before tutors and students left the dining hall together. To all appearances this was done out of respect for the tutors. In addition, no one was to speak while eating. Eating in silence, a person had to keep his grievances to himself.

  As soon as Li Mei-t’ing became dean of students, he had given up smoking and made a rule prohibiting smoking, but when he saw that the faculty members continued to smoke as much as ever and set a poor example for the students, he thought up a new scheme to assure the collective observance of the rule by teachers and students. Knowing that smoking was done mostly in the bathrooms, under the pretext that the bathrooms were too small for the large number of students, yet too big for the small number of faculty members living in the dormitories, he ruled that henceforth the bathrooms could be used by both students and faculty. He thought that under these circumstances students and faculty would both be less apt to smoke as they pleased, in order to keep up appearances. The result, however, was that the professors did not use the students’ bathrooms, while the students crowded into the professors’ bathrooms, brazenly smoking to dispel the odor, for they knew that this was a place more tightly guarded than the Forbidden City10 itself. It was a place where, as Westerners say, His Majesty the Emperor must go in person and cannot send a representative (Ou les rois ne peuvent aller qu’en personne). Here everyone kept to himself, and no one would be meddlesome or put on tutorial airs.

  The tutors dutifully talked with their tutees once a week. Some professors, such as Wang Ch’u-hou, Han Hsüeh-yü, and others, took the opportunity to invite them over for tea or dinner. Chao Hsin-mei found it all quite disgusting, and told Hung-chien he had been a fool to come, and that next school year he’d quit for sure.

  Hung-chien said, “Before coming, you said something to me about teaching being the beginning of political activity, and in teaching one was training cadres. Now somehow you’ve lost interest.”

  Hsin-mei denied ever having said such things, but at Hung-chien’s insistence, he said, “Well, maybe I did say that, but what I wanted to train was people, not machines. Besides, what was true then isn’t true now. I didn’t have any teaching experience then, so I said things like that. Now that I know what Chinese wartime higher education is all about, I’ve learned my lesson. Of course, my progress has been in learning to sail with the wind. Talk is talk, and man can change. Man should never be restricted by what he says. Rather, what he says should change with him. If he makes a statement and acts accordingly without deviating in any way, then there’d be no such things as breaking a contract, reneging, or apologizing.”

  Hung-chien said, “No wonder your esteemed teacher Mr. Kao sent me a telegram appointing me as professor, then gave me only an associate professorship when I got here.”

  “But don’t forget,” said Hsin-mei, “at first he only agreed to give you three hours, and now it’s been increased to six. Sometimes a person doesn’t mean to lie, but after he’s spoken, the situation changes, giving him no other choice but to modify his original intention. Administrators especially find it hard to keep their word. You need only read in the newspaper every day what government spokesmen of all nations say, to see that. For instance, if I agree on something with somebody and even go so far as to sign a contract with him, no matter whether it says ten or twenty years in the contract, my motive in making it is based on my present hopes, understanding, and needs. But ‘the present’ is so unreliable. If that ‘present’ has already fallen behind the times, even if the contract clearly states, ‘until the last day of the world,’ it’s all useless. We can renege on it any time. During the First World War, what’s his name?—the German prime minister—said, as you know, that treaties are waste paper. My impression is that everything we say
in society is just like a theater ticket. It has the words ‘Invalid after date,’ printed on the edge, but there’s no date marked on it. It can be changed to whatever date we want.”

  Hung-chien said, “Wow! And you seemed like a real gentleman, someone who’d be a true friend. I never thought you were so unethical. From now on I’ll have to watch what you say.”

  When Hsin-mei heard this backhanded compliment, he swung his head around in triumph and said, “That’s what you call learning! I graduated first in my class in political science. Huh, I know all the tricks politicians play. I just don’t care to do them now, that’s all.” From the way he spoke it sounded as if the spirit of Machiavelli had taken hold of him.

  Hung-chien said with a smile, “Don’t brag. Your politics seems to be nothing but theory. If you were really asked to put aside your conscience and do that, you wouldn’t. You’re like the dog described by foreigners: It’s all bark and no bite.”

  Hsin-mei opened his mouth, and assuming a ferocious expression, bared two rows of strong, even teeth at Hung-chien. Hung-chien quickly stuffed a cigarette into Hsin-mei’s mouth.

  After his teaching load had been increased, Hung-chien regained much of his enthusiasm. When he discovered that in his Section Four English class there were three Section One auditing students who were always diligently asking questions, he was quite pleased with the fact and told Hsin-mei about it. The hard work, he felt, was in correcting the sentences. It is like washing dirty clothes. As soon as one batch is cleaned, in comes the next one just as dirty as the first. Most of the students took a look at their score, then threw away the assignment. The headache he had gotten from correcting them was all in vain.

  Despite their poor command of English, the students had impressive foreign names. There was an Alexander, an Elizabeth, a Dick, a “Florrie.” One called himself “Bacon” because his Chinese name was “P’ei-ken.” Another student, whose family name was Huang and given name Po-lun, had the poet’s name “Byron” as his English name. When Hsin-mei saw this, he said with a smile, “If his family name had been Chang, he would have given himself the name Chamberlain, the English prime minister. And if his name had been Chi, he could have become the German plane Zeppelin, or even called himself Napoleon if there had just been a Chinese family name close to ‘Na.’” Hung-chien said that the way Chinese adopted foreign names always reminded him of the British sow and cow. As soon as their meat got on a menu, they went under a French name.

  The New Year holidays were already over and the final examinations were to be held a week later. One evening Hsin-mei and Hung-chien discussed plans for a trip to Kweilin together during the winter vacation. They talked on until quite late in the night. When Hung-chien looked at his watch and saw that it was already past one o’clock, he hurriedly got ready for bed. First he went out of the dormitory to go to the toilet. Upstairs and downstairs in the dormitory everyone was sound asleep. His footsteps seemed to be treading on these sleepers’ dreams. The metal-plated heels of his leather shoes were so heavy that they could have broken their brittle dreams to pieces. The ground outside was frost covered. Only a few bamboo leaves remained, and every now and then a chill wind blew, wasting so much useless energy just to blow a few small leaves around for people. Though there was no moon, the bare branches of a few plane trees11 were as sharp and clean as fish spines. Only one vegetable oil lamp hung in front of the toilet. Its muddy light dotted the clear winter night with a speck of grime. The toilet’s breath seemed to be afraid of the cold too, shrinking inside the room not daring to come out; while in the summer it kept sentries posted far away.

  Before he entered, Hung-chien heard people talking inside. One said, “What’s the matter? You’ve had the runs several times tonight!”

  Another groaned, “It’s from something I ate today at the Hans.”

  Hung-chien recognized the voice as that of one of the auditors in his English class.

  The first speaker said, “How come Han Hsüeh-yü is always having you guys over for dinner! Is it because of Fang Hung-chien—”

  The one with the stomach trouble let out a hiss.

  Hung-chien’s heart jumped with fright, but he could not bring his feet to a halt. The two students were completely still. Feeling like a guilty thief, Hung-chien crept along stealthily and returned to his room filled with suspicions. Han Hsüeh-yü was undoubtedly plotting against him, but how he didn’t know. The next day he’d just have to publicly rip the cover from Han’s little peep show. Having made this heroic resolution, he went to sleep.

  The next morning before he awoke, the school messenger came with a letter. He tore it open and found that it was from Miss Sun. It said that she had heard a rumor that he was pointing out Liu Tung-fang’s errors to the students in his English class. Liu Tung-fang already knew about it. Would he please be careful? Hung-chien let out a cry of astonishment. Where did such talk come from? How could he have made himself an enemy over nothing? He suddenly remembered that those three auditors were all from the History Department and in Liu Tung-fang’s Section One English class. No doubt the questions they asked him contained traps which he had fallen into. Ultimately it was all the work of that scoundrel Han Hsüeh-yü. And all along he had thought Han wanted to be friends with him, and he was keeping Han’s secret! The more Hung-chien thought about it, the more disgusted he became. He deliberated for a long time how he should first explain everything to Liu Tung-fang.

  When Hung-chien arrived at the Foreign Languages Department office, Miss Sun was sitting there reading a book. She looked at him with eyes full of unspoken words. A small patch of Hung-chien’s throat felt parched and his hands trembled slightly. He exchanged a few pleasantries with Liu Tung-fang, then screwing up his courage, said, “A colleague is going around saying—I myself was told about this—that you are very dissatisfied with the English I teach, that in the Section One class you often point out mistakes I make to the students—”

  “What?” Liu sat up with a start. “Who said that?”

  The expression on Miss Sun’s face became even more all-inclusive, and she even forgot to pretend to be reading.

  “My English is no good to begin with. I’m teaching this time partly at your order. Of course, it’s inevitable that I make mistakes. I only hope that you will point them out to me directly. But then I’ve heard this colleague has a slight difference of opinion with you, so I don’t put too much stock in the rumors I’ve heard. He also says that those three auditors in my class are spies sent in by you.”

  “Ah? What three students—Miss Sun, would you go to the library and borrow a copy of uh—uh, the Commercial Press’s College English Selections for me and then go to the supplies office and get—get a hundred sheets of draft paper.”

  Miss Sun swiftly departed.

  When Hung-chien gave the names of the three students, Liu Tung-fang said, “Hung-chien, you need only realize that those three students are in the History Department. How could they be at my beck and call? Isn’t the one spreading those rumors the man in charge of the History Department? If you put all the facts together, you’ll understand.”

  Hung-chien’s venture was a success. His hands stopped trembling, and acting as though he were suddenly waking from a dream, he said, “Han Hsüeh-yü, he—”

  He then spilled out the whole story like rice from a gunny-sack of Han Hsüeh-yü’s buying the diploma.

  Surprised and delighted, Liu Tung-fang repeatedly sighed, and when he had heard everything, said, “Let me tell you frankly. My sister works in the History Department office, and she often hears the History Department students telling Han Hsüeh-yü that you abuse me in class.”

  Hung-chien swore that he had not.

  Liu said, “Do you think I would believe that? His purpose in making all this trouble is not just to get rid of you, but to have his wife take your place. He thinks that since he’s already hired my sister, when there’s no one to take over the class, I’ll be too embarrassed not to ask his wife for help. Well, I
’m fair and impartial in hiring people and my sister isn’t under his personal employ. Even if she does lose her job, I’ll certainly do all I can to support her as her elder brother. By the way, let me show you something that came yesterday from the president’s office.”

  He pulled open a drawer and took out a sheaf of papers which he gave to Hung-chien. It was a petition from the Section Four English students which read as follows: “Subject: Replacement with a Better Teacher for the Good of Our Studies.” From start to finish it stated that Hung-chien was not qualified to teach English and detailed his various slips of the pen and oversights in correcting assignments to prove his incompetence in English. When he read it, Hung-chien’s face turned scarlet to his ears.

  Liu Tung-fang said, “Don’t pay any attention to it. Section Four students aren’t up to doing that. It’s undoubtedly the idea of those three auditors, and very likely Han Hsüeh-yü had a hand in it. The president sent it over with a note for me to look into it. I’ll certainly clear it all up for you.”

  Hung-chien thanked Liu profusely. Before he left, Liu asked if he had told Han Hsüeh-yü’s secret to anyone else and enjoined him not to let it out. As he was leaving the office, Hung-chien ran into Miss Sun on her way back from the supplies office. She complimented him on the way he had seized the initiative in his talk with Liu. He was pleased at hearing this, but when he thought that she may have seen that petition, he was deeply mortified. It stuck firmly in his consciousness like a piece of sticky flypaper.

  Liu proved to be quite skillful. The next day when Hung-chien went to class, the three auditors were not there. All went well right up until final examination time. Liu instructed Hung-chien to be lenient in grading the bad papers and strict with the good ones, for if there were many failures, it would rouse the students’ ill will, while if there were too many with good marks, it could diminish the teacher’s authority. In sum, when marking one should “send coal when it snows,” that is, provide that which is most needed, and never be stingy—as Liu put it: “One cent can buy nothing, let alone one tenth of a cent!” Nor on the other hand should one gild the lily, letting the students regard grades as too cheap or their schoolwork as too easy—as Liu put it: “A beggar must be given at least one dollar, that is, one hundred cents, but to give a student one hundred percent was out of the question.”