Decoded

by Mai Jia

  Okay. I can tell you that according to my information, over the period of time that Rong Jinzhen worked for Unit 701 (from 1956 until 1970) he filled out twenty-five notebooks, all of which are now in the custody of his wife, Di Li. Di Li used her position as Rong Jinzhen’s wife only once, to take a single notebook into her personal possession. The remaining twenty-four are in her custody because she is the security officer and they are all locked away in a rather imposing iron cabinet, secured with a double lock that requires two keys to be turned simultaneously to open it. One key she keeps on her person, the other is held by her section chief. Essentially then, although these notebooks are in her care, she is not permitted to look at them, let alone treat them as her own.

  When will it be possible to see them?

  According to Di Li, that’s difficult to say for certain. Perhaps some will be declassified in a couple of years’ time; for others it might take several decades. That is because each notebook has been classified with different degrees of secrecy vis-à-vis national security. It goes without saying, therefore, that for us it is as though those twenty-four notebooks don’t even exist; just like the man residing in the Lingshan hospice doesn’t really exist. I mean, he is there, we can go and see him, but the real Rong Jinzhen has long since departed; he is gone. Consequently, I was very keen to see the single notebook in his wife’s possession. From what I was able to gather, no one has ever actually seen that particular notebook, but everyone knows she has it. That is because when she went to get it she had to sign it out and they keep records for that sort of thing. So, no matter how much she might have hoped to fob me off, I knew she had it and so in the end she had to admit it. However, every time I mentioned that I would like to have a look at it, she would spit out two words: ‘Get out!’ This was how she kicked me out of her house each and every time. There was never any hesitation on her part, never any explanation; no room for argument. A few months ago, once I had completed the first five chapters in manuscript, I had to visit Unit 701 one final time in order for the authorities to inspect my work and ensure that I had not inadvertently revealed any sensitive information. Naturally, Di Li was one of the censors in charge and upon reading it she shared her opinions concerning the story I had written. Then she suddenly asked whether or not I still fancied seeing the notebook? I answered, ‘Yes, of course.’ She told me to come and see her the following day; but before that day arrived, she came of her own volition to the guest quarters and presented me with the notebook. As you would expect, it was a photocopy of the original.

  I need to explain three points:

  1. The copy that Di Li provided me with was incomplete.

  Why do I say this? Well as I understand things, each and every person in Unit 701 uses the notebooks supplied by the Unit itself. There are three sizes: the largest is 142 mm by 210 mm, the medium size is 130 mm by 184 mm, and the smallest is 90 mm by 100 mm. The exterior is either plastic or hard leather. Two colours are available for the plastic covers, red or blue. Since Rong Jinzhen was partial to blue, all the notebooks he used were the same: a blue, medium-sized notebook. I’ve seen a genuine example of this kind of notebook (empty of course), and so I know what they look like. Blazoned across the top and the bottom are the words ‘Top Secret’, stamped into the cover in red ink. In the middle of the cover the following is printed:

  Serial No.: __________

  Code No.: __________

  Date: __________

  The serial number gave the number in the series; the date indicated from when to when the notebook was used; the code number would tell you the agent’s name. For instance, Rong Jinzhen’s code number was 5603K. No one outside Unit 701 would recognize who that was, but everyone inside would: the year he began work at Unit 701 – 1956; the section he worked in – cryptography; the 03 in the middle indicating that during the aforementioned year he was the third person to have been recruited by Unit 701. Finally, each page is stamped with the words ‘Top Secret’ on the top right-hand side and a page number on the bottom right-hand side, all in dark red ink.

  Looking at the copy given to me by Di Li I noticed immediately that it had been tampered with because the ‘top secret’ banner on the right and the page numbers had all been removed. I thought, ‘I can understand why the “Top Secret” banner was removed, since this material was no longer considered top secret. But why erase the page numbers?’ At first, I couldn’t figure it out. I counted the number of pages. There were seventy-two. I then began to understand. In the course of my research, I had learnt that this type of notebook contained ninety-nine pages, and so it was clear that the photocopy provided by Di Li was incomplete. She offered two explanations: first, Rong Jinzhen had not used the entire notebook and thus many pages were blank and did not need to be copied; secondly, certain pages contained their personal secrets – the secrets between husband and wife – and so she did not wish me to see those. Hence they were omitted. From my point of view, those omitted pages were what I most wanted to see.

  2. Looking at the data and the content, the early pages of the notebook concerned a time when Rong Jinzhen fell ill.

  One day in the middle of June in 1966, after he had eaten breakfast and had left the canteen, Rong Jinzhen abruptly lost consciousness and fell to the floor in the middle of the hallway. The side of his head hit the corner of a wooden bench – and the blood came gushing out. He was taken to hospital, whereupon they discovered that the blood dripping down his face was nothing compared to the bleeding in his stomach. The problem with his stomach had actually caused the fainting fit. The result of this diagnosis, coupled with the doctor believing that it was quite severe, meant that Rong Jinzhen was admitted to the hospital for treatment.

  This hospital was exactly the same one as the chess-playing lunatic had been taken to all those years before – it was attached to Unit 701. Located next to the training base in the Southern Complex, the quality of its equipment and the skill of its physicians was no whit inferior to that of a big-city hospital. With respect to Rong Jinzhen’s ailment – well, there was nothing really difficult about treating such a common condition, and it certainly would not give rise to the same kind of problem that the treatment of the lunatic had caused. The difficulty lay in the fact that although this hospital was attached to Unit 701, it was located in the Southern Complex and, as you can imagine, its level of secrecy could not be compared to that of the Northern Complex. To employ a rather inappropriate analogy: the relationship between the northern compound and the southern one was like the relationship between master and servant. A servant is always busy fulfilling his master’s wishes, but what is the master up to? Alas, the servant is not privy to such information. Even if they were to learn of such things, they would not be permitted to talk about them, at least not openly. Strictly speaking, Rong Jinzhen’s true identity was not to be disclosed even when he was in hospital. Of course, that was easier said than done, especially since he was such a well-known person; most people had already learned of him through formal or informal channels and everyone understood that he was a really important man. Of course, if your identity is made public then it is public; you could say that everyone in Unit 701 was part of the same family and so it didn’t really matter one way or the other. Still, when it comes to work or other professional matters – well, those things are not to be revealed at any cost.

  As we all now know, Rong Jinzhen always carried a notebook on his person. But when he got sick, when his blood was flowing down his face, he wasn’t really cognisant of his own person to say nothing of others, and so his notebook was brought along with him to the clinic. Of course, this was strictly prohibited. However, even though his personal security guard knew that he had been admitted to the hospital (in other words he was out of the Northern Complex), she didn’t rush over to immediately collect it. Consequently, it wasn’t until the evening of the day he took sick that Rong Jinzhen himself handed it in. Once the security bureau authorities learnt of what had happened, they straightaway reprimande
d the guard, dismissed her from her position and began to make arrangements to appoint a new security officer to manage Rong Jinzhen’s affairs. The new guard was none other than his future wife. From the looks of it, all of this must have happened three or four days after Rong Jinzhen had signed out this particular notebook – on the fourth or fifth day after he was admitted to hospital.

  This notebook was most definitely not that notebook! In truth, when Rong Jinzhen handed in the notebook himself, he didn’t forget to make a request for a new one, because he was only too aware of his own personal habits – only too aware of his need to have a notebook always on his person. This was part of his life. You could say that this habit began on the day that Young Lillie gave him that Waterman pen; even though he was sick, a habit is a habit and they are hard to break. Of course, given his surroundings at the time, it would have been impossible for him to write anything involving work, and this is the reason why this particular notebook has been declassified and allowed to be held personally by Di Li. In my opinion, the notebook contains random thoughts and impressions about his time spent at the hospital.

  3. The people he mentioned in the notebook are unclear.

  The people he writes about are simply called ‘you’, ‘he’ and ‘she’. It seems to me that all of these people lack any clear designation; the pronouns do not point to any single person. To use a linguist’s vocabulary, the ‘signifieds’ are at play. That is to say, at times these pronouns seem to refer to himself, at other times to Liseiwicz, or Young Lillie, or his mother, or Master Rong. At yet other times it seems that the pronouns used refer to his wife, or the chess-playing lunatic, or the Christian God. There are times when they even seem to be referring to a tree or a dog. In any case, it’s all very confusing, and perhaps he didn’t really know himself who or what he was talking about, so the whole thing is quite a mess. Understanding it is something you will just have to play by ear. Why is it that I think you, my readers, can choose to read this section or not? Well, this is my reason: there is no way we can be sure we understand what is written in the notebook, no way to be certain, no way to clearly grasp the exact meaning; all we can do is rely upon our feelings and play it by ear – accept it for what it is. That being the case, reading what follows is up to you. It doesn’t matter one way or the other. If you do want to continue, then to assist you in doing so, I’ve added numbers to each entry to help organize them, at least somewhat. Also, whatever was written in English has been translated.

  01

  He continues to demand that I live my life like a mushroom, to grow and flourish with the sun and earth, with the clouds and rain, and to eventually die by their hands. But it seems as though I can’t do this. And now, for instance, he’s changed into a house pet.

  A fucking house pet!*

  02

  He feels this way: he’s terrified of hospitals.

  After being admitted to hospital, all the strongest men turn into pitiable creatures. Small and puny. Like children. Or old men. Other people will inevitably show concern for them . . . like the concern they show for a pet.

  * This was underlined in the original English version; as were some other passages below.

  03

  All that exists is reasonable, but not necessarily sensible – I heard him say this. Well said!

  04

  In the window you see the reflection of your head wrapped in a bandage; it’s like a wounded soldier fresh from the front line.

  05

  Suppose the bleeding in my stomach is type A, the blood from my forehead is B, the serious illness is X, then it’s quite obvious, the space between A and B possesses a multidirectional relationship with X, A is inside, B is outside, or perhaps A is dark, B is light. To proceed, you could also understand A as being on top, or positive, or this, B in contrast, B is on the bottom, or negative, or that, in brief it is a homologous multidirectional relationship. This type of multidirectional relationship does not need to be constructed upon a solid foundation, rather it is entirely random. But once this randomness appears, it becomes a necessity, then if there is no A there can be no B, B is the necessary counterpart of A. The concrete characteristic of this multidirectional relationship is akin to the theory of the binary nature of mathematical constants proposed by Georg Weinacht* . . . could it be that Weinacht has also experienced something similar to what you have, and took from it the inspiration to invent his theory?

  06

  There is an explanation for the wound on the edge of my forehead –

  Paul said: ‘The season prompts people to till the land, why is it that you are seated here crying?’

  The farmer said: ‘Just now a donkey bucked and with one of its feet kicked out two of my front teeth.’

  Paul said: ‘Then you ought to be laughing, why is it that you cry?’

  The farmer said: ‘I cry because I am in pain and feel deeply hurt, tell me, why should I laugh?’

  Paul said: ‘The Lord has said, for a young man to have lost his teeth and have had his forehead split is a good omen, it means that happiness will soon be upon you.’

  The farmer said: ‘Then please entreat the Lord to give me a son.’

  In that year, the farmer indeed had a son.*

  Now your forehead has also been cracked open, will happiness soon be upon you as well?

  Something will indeed happen, only it is difficult for you to tell if it will be good or ill. That’s because you don’t know what is good for you.

  * Remember, Weinacht and Liseiwicz were one and the same. At this time, however, Rong Jinzhen did not know this.

  07

  I have seen all that is under heaven and it is all hollow, empty, all clutching at the wind. That which is crooked cannot be straightened, that which lacks cannot ever be sufficient. My heart tells me that I have obtained a formidable intelligence, surpassing all of those from my time before in Jerusalem, and my heart has experienced and possesses more knowledge and understands more of things. I have also been engrossed in open enquiries and secret searches into wisdom, egotism and ignorance, but I know that this is still only clutching at the wind. With much knowledge comes much worry and frustration; increasing knowledge only increases grief.†

  08

  He is very rich, ever richer.

  He is destitute, ever more destitute.

  He is he.

  He is also he.

  09

  The doctor said a good stomach is smooth on the outside and rough on the inside: if you turned it inside out, with the rough

  * This is a Bible story. The Apostle Paul was on the road to Jerusalem to preach. One day he met a farmer down on his knees wailing profusely. They had the above conversation.

  † This passage is derived from Ecclesiastes 5.

  side outermost, then a good stomach would look very much like a newly hatched chick, covered from top to bottom with shaggy hair. The hair would be evenly distributed. But my stomach is the reverse: it looks like someone suffering from favus of the scalp, oozing with blood and pus. The doctor also said most people assume that stomach disease is caused by the consumption of unhealthy foods, but actually, the main reason for a stomach ailment is obsessive worrying. It is not brought about by injurious drink and food, but by utopian longings and flights of fancy.

  When have I consumed injurious drink and food?

  My stomach seems like a foreign substance in my body, an enemy (a spy); it has never smiled at me.

  10

  You should loathe your stomach.

  But you cannot.

  The imprint of Daddy rests upon it.

  It was that old man who had forged your stomach: it has a harmful disposition, extremely fragile, like a pear blossom. Does your stomach know how many pear blossoms it has consumed?

  When your stomach hurts, you think of pear blossoms, you think of that old man.

  Daddy, you’re not dead, not only do you live in my heart, you also live on in my stomach.

  11

  You always exe
rt great energy to walk forward; you don’t like to look behind. Because you don’t like to look behind, you make demands on yourself to exert even more energy to walk forward.

  12

  All that is under heaven has all been planned by God.

  If you were allowed to make your own plans, you might make of yourself a hermit who has fled this world, or perhaps a prisoner. The best would be an innocent prisoner, or a prisoner who cannot be saved; in any case a man free of guilt.

  At present, God’s plan conforms to your wishes.

  13

  A shadow has caught hold of you.

  Because you stopped.

  14

  Yet another shadow has caught hold of you!

  15

  Klaus Johannes said sleeping is most exhausting because you have to dream.

  I say not working is most exhausting because your mind is empty. It is very much like dreaming; the past can take advantage of your weakness and burst in.

  Work is the means by which the past can be forgotten, and even the reason for it can be cast off.

  16

  Like a bird leaving its nest. Like running away . . .

  17

  ‘You ungrateful bastard, where are you running to?’

  ‘I’m to your west . . . in the valley a kilometre away.’