by Yan Lianke
The music blaring over the loudspeaker was the “Battle March Melody.” I couldn’t tell where the music was coming from, but the loudspeaker broadcasting the music sounded as though it had developed a rip. Perhaps it had been hanging from a tree branch for so long that wind and rain had worn away the surface of the speaker, such that the music playing over it developed some hoarse spots. It was as if the music were seeping out through the cracks in the bamboo. The resulting sound was harsh and yet very fluid. The rhythm and the notes were clear, forming a colorful cloud that entered my house through the cracks in the doorway, even pushing open the door. This colorful cloud surged in through the openings in the window, making the clothing I had hung there flutter back and forth. It blew in through the cracks in the rear wall, making the bedsheets tremble. As it blew in through the cracks in the tile roof, my entire body began shivering uncontrollably. I was energized by that music, and my body began to feel as though a swarm of ants were crawling through my veins. My blood began to boil, as my hands, feet, hair, neck, and all of my bodily crevices became covered in sweat. I knew I was about to become crazed again, and I felt as though countless surges of energy began pulsing from my outer limbs toward the area between my thighs. My member became erect, as stiff as a board. Eventually, when the song reached the lines, “I tripped one, captured another, and seized several American guns,” in my mind’s eye I saw a pair of railroad tracks extending toward me, next to which there was an endless field of wheat, where Hongmei was lying naked on the trampled stalks, beckoning to me. Meanwhile, next to me in the bed, Guizhi turned half over and said, “Are you going to do it or not? If not, then I’m going back to sleep.” I nodded, then walked toward where Hongmei was lying. I saw her radiant body and smelled wheat as well as the fresh scent of her body. I reached the edge of the bed, whereupon I took off my shoes, unfastened my military-issued belt, and removed my pants.
However, the music playing over the loudspeakers suddenly stopped, and the world abruptly grew silent, like a musical instrument with broken string.
Guizhi slowly sat up in bed, put her underwear back on, and turned on the light.
“Gao Aijun, if you aren’t ready to do it, then you shouldn’t wake me up. I need to get up early tomorrow to cook. How can someone be like this every day? Is this useful to a household, like food or clothing? After you returned from the army, I asked you to do it several times, but you never finished. You are completely useless, yet you still want to do it? It’s already been more than a month since you returned, so you should go find work somewhere. You’re no longer in the army and are no longer under supervision. If you can’t find a way to earn work points, then what do you expect our family to live on? Can we live on air alone?
5. A Revolutionary Melody Plays Once Again
Of course we couldn’t live on air alone. Both farming and revolution can yield food to eat. Moreover, revolution often results from people not having enough to eat. Before I joined the army, Cheng Tianqing promised me that after I was demobilized and returned home, he would make me a village cadre, and it was only because he promised I could be a cadre that I agreed to marry his daughter. Permission to become a cadre was, therefore, the dowry he owed me. Now that I had already fathered two children with Guizhi and had been demobilized, it was time for him to make good on that promise. If I didn’t become a village cadre, how would I be able to help foment revolution? And if I couldn’t assume a local leadership position, how would I be able to help lead the revolution when the time came?
I resolved to go to my father-in-law and demand that he make good on his promise.
After breakfast, Guizhi asked me where I was going, adding that today the production team was heading to the area in front of the village to dig irrigation canals. I didn’t answer and in fact didn’t even glance at her. But when I left the house, she followed me out and handed me a shovel.
“If you miss a half day of work, you’ll be docked four work points.”
I threw down the shovel and walked away, leaving Guizhi standing there in confusion.
In the alley, the sunlight was as clear as glass and as bright as a revolutionary’s heart. My father-in-law’s neighbors had finished eating and were standing in their doorways holding their shovels and hoes, waiting for the production brigade bell to signal the beginning of the workday. As I passed in front of them, a revolutionary fervor seemed to lift me up. One villager asked, “Aijun, have you eaten yet?” I replied, “Yes, I have, and now I’m on my way to see the village branch secretary.” The villager laughed and said, “Isn’t the branch secretary your father-in-law?” I said, “At home he’s my father-in-law, but in the village he is my work commander.” The villagers stood behind me, smiling broadly. I thought to myself, Go ahead and smile, because after the revolution there will come a day when if I tell you to smile, you’ll smile, and if I tell you not to smile, then you’ll have no choice but to cry.
The sound of their laughter escorted me from Rear Cheng Street to Center Cheng Street.
As I was turning from a side alley into Center Cheng Street, I caught sight of Hongmei. She was walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Aiju, Guizhi’s sister-in-law on her mother’s side. Hongmei was still carrying her aluminum lunch pail. She must have been going to Cheng Temple to take her father-in-law some food. By this point, the bell releasing the second production brigade from work had sounded, and many brigade members were carrying their tools and walking out of the village. Hongmei found herself wedged between several young female brigade members. My heart started pounding, and I remembered the hardness and softness I had experienced when the “Battle March Melody” had blared over the loudspeakers the night before. I didn’t know how I could possibly proceed toward Hongmei and Aiju. My legs were trembling, but somehow I found that my stride had become stronger. I was truly grateful to those brigade members who had been joking with me, because if they hadn’t helped suppress the fire in my loins, who knows what I might have done when confronted with Hongmei!
This was the second time I had seen her after returning to the village. She was now wearing a plain blue shirt. Her pants were made from the work fabric that had become popular in the city, and on her feet she was wearing a pair of similarly fashionable black rubber revolutionary shoes. I was still wearing my shiny green army uniform. As the women headed toward me, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and used my fists to pull the fabric tight around my hips. I’m sure you can’t possibly understand, but at the time that kind of affect was perceived as fashionable and Western. Not all young people were able to walk along with both hands stuffed into their pockets, and they certainly weren’t able to use their fists to elevate the region around their hips. In this way, I was showing that I had gone to school, served in the army, and seen the world. I demonstrated that I had ideals in my heart and power in my family. This was similar to what Hongmei was able to convey by wearing work-fabric pants and black rubber revolutionary shoes. These were class markers. I planted myself in the middle of the road and waited for Hongmei and Aiju to approach, my gaze hurtling toward them like a car. People moved aside to avoid me in the middle of the road, and Hongmei did the same. She looked away, as though she didn’t even know me and was about to walk past me while talking to someone else.
I said, “Hey, I want to establish a revolutionary organization. Would you like to join?”
The group of women immediately came to a halt and stared at me as though I were speaking in tongues. I knew that when a revolution is just beginning, the biggest enemy is people’s apathy and ignorance, and inspiration is your only path and your only weapon. I said, “Throughout the entire country, revolutions carried out by many different ethnic groups are erupting. The county seat has already been turned upside down, and only Chenggang is still but a pool of stagnant water.” At that point, I saw that Hongmei’s head, which had been facing the sky, was lowered. She squinted at me, as though seeing a stranger she wanted to get to know. Then, gesturing toward Hongmei, I asked Aiju, “Sister, who
is this?” Aiju replied with surprise, “Don’t you know each other? She’s the daughter-in-law of the former mayor; her husband is a schoolteacher.” I said, “Oh, your name is Hongmei. You are cultured and are from the city. But what I can’t understand is, why don’t you love revolution?”
Embarrassed, Hongmei stood on the side of the road, wearing a thick layer of blush and foundation. She said, “You’re the son-in-law of the old branch secretary. I hear that you are also a Party member, so you must be very enlightened.”
I said, “My enlightenment isn’t worth mentioning, but if I pursue revolution, might I not be worthy of the organization?”
Aiju said, “Brother, if I join your organization, can I earn work points?”
I said, “How can the revolution calculate loss and gain? If you were to ask this question anywhere else, it would surely be grounds for a struggle session.”
An older commune member remarked that without work points, everyone would starve. Someone else interjected something, and, laughing happily, they all departed.
Hongmei and I were the only ones left in the street. I initially thought she would leave with the rest of the group, turning into an alley and returning home. Instead, however, she continued standing there with me in the middle of the road. Her blush and foundation seemed to thicken, and a sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead. The corners of her mouth continued to quiver. I looked forward and backward, and saw that the street was now empty except for the two of us. The sun was exceptionally bright, and in the spring warmth there were early traces of summer heat. She and I stood there in a state of feverish anticipation. At first, I didn’t know what to say and wasn’t sure whether to talk about the revolution or to reminisce about the past. At that moment, the sound of people’s shouts coming from Rear Cheng Street poured down on us like a sheet of water. One after another, the village’s loudspeakers began loudly broadcasting an announcement by a village cadre: “Commune members charged with building the irrigation canal in front of the village should proceed quickly. Those who are late will be docked work points!” After this announcement was repeated three times, the song “The East Is Red” began blaring over the loudspeakers. Needless to say, this was a song that everyone knew by heart. However, as that muddy-yellow melody descended upon us, my body began to tremble and my hands became covered in a layer of sweat. A yellowish-white glow emerged from under the blush and foundation that covered Hongmei’s face. I had no idea why we reacted in this way, and as the bright sound of “The East Is Red” resonated through Chenggang and made its way to the village street, I felt as though a locomotive were rushing through my veins. I saw the melody’s notes falling through the air and rolling around at our feet like grapes and oranges. I smelled the orange-yellow music, which lingered around us like an intoxicating fragrance, and I saw how the scent of Hongmei’s body emerged through the openings in her wrinkled clothing, as bursts of bright light shone in my direction. In that fragrance, I could smell her warm and delicate perspiration, which was like white velvet intermixed with the scent of her skin. Peering in through the wrinkles in her clothing, I again glimpsed her beautiful cleavage, which was like a mountain canyon. Sweat was pouring down that ravine toward her belly, before being absorbed by the fabric of her shirt. Synthetic fabric is not as absorbent as handwoven cloth, and her shirt had already developed countless sweat marks that appeared dark blue against the lighter fabric, as if ink had spilled over it. Seeing her like that—like me, unsettled by the music—I suddenly became very calm. It was as though I could see victory like a fire burning before me. It was as if the rosy light of the revolution were shining in through my window and onto my bed.
I wiped my sweaty hands on my pants and said, “Hongmei, let’s pursue revolution together.”
She stared at me for a while, then asked, “These past few days … you weren’t waiting for me in the temple?”
I smiled. “It was you who said we had never seen each other before.”
She said, “I didn’t know you would raise this and drop it again.” She dejectedly turned away, but then, just as she was in the process of turning back to me, the village’s loudspeakers suddenly fell silent. Her face became totally composed, as though the memory that had left her so dejected had suddenly vanished.
“Do you really want to establish a revolutionary organization?”
“I’ve even come up with a name. We could call it the Red Flag Struggle Brigade.”
“You should be careful. You don’t want the branch secretary to order someone to poke acupuncture needles into your head and hands.”
I laughed. “First I’ll have to remove him from power, because if I don’t, Chenggang will never be willing to pursue revolution.”
At this point, the sound of footsteps resonated from the alleyway. Hongmei’s face became deathly pale, and she immediately turned and walked away. I followed her and called out her name, asking her to let me see her hand. With a confused expression, she extended her hand, and I stroked her nails, shining with bright polish. Then I said, “Someone is coming, so you should leave. Three days from now, I’ll start a revolution in the Chenggang production brigade.”
She walked away, her lunch pail swinging rhythmically by her side.
The person who emerged from that alleyway was none other than Hongmei’s husband, Cheng Qingdong, carrying some books on his way to go teach his class. I hadn’t seen him for several years and noticed that he was now wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses. He appeared very cultured and intellectual and looked as though he were about to be swept away by the revolution.
Chapter 3
Hard and Soft
1. My Father-in-Law Cheng Tianqing and I
I said, “Father, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”
He replied, “Have a seat. Have you eaten yet?”
I said, “I don’t want to sit. There is something I’d like to discuss with you.”
He said, “Sit down. What do you want to discuss?”
I said, “There’s something I want from you—something you said you would give me.”
He said, “And what is that?”
I said, “To be appointed village cadre.”
He said, “What kind of village cadre?”
I said, “When Guizhi and I got engaged, you said you would send me to serve in the army for a few years and that after I was discharged you would make me a Cheng Village cadre.”
He stared at me in surprise.
I said, “Father, have you forgotten?”
He replied, “No, I haven’t forgotten. But currently there are no empty seats on the village committee. We already have a deputy branch secretary, a production team leader, a militia battalion commander—we already have a turnip in every hole. We even have a production team accountant. Whom do you propose I dismiss so that you can step up?”
I said, “Father, you’re the eldest member of the village committee and have already served as village branch secretary for several decades. You yourself could step down and let me serve as village branch secretary in your place. That way, you could enjoy more time at home with your children and grandchildren.”
His eyes glinted. “What did you say?”
I said, “Even if you step down, the Yangtze will continue flowing downstream, one surge after another.”
He said, “You bastard!”
I said, “Father, don’t you fear the tide of revolution?”
He said, “You’ve been possessed.”
He laughed coldly. “Damn! Where were you when I joined the revolution? Where were you when I was delivering letters for the Eighth Route Army? Don’t forget that had it not been for me, you would never have been able to join the army in the first place, and your son and daughter would never even have been born. And now you want to make trouble? You have been possessed with revolutionary fever and want revolution. I’m telling you, it is precisely because I noticed you were possessed that I decided not to permit you to join the village committee. Had you n
ot become so possessed, then the very day after you returned from the army I would have had you appointed village chief.”
I said, “Father, you shouldn’t rest on your laurels. You’ve already become a stumbling block for the revolution, and the revolutionary tide will soon sweep you away. If you’re smart, you’ll step aside like Cheng Tianmin and voluntarily hand over power. If you’re not, you can simply wait for the revolution to sweep you away.”
He shouted, “Get out!”
I left his house.
2. The Revolution Begins for Real
Everyone knows that the revolutionary wind cannot blow directly into one’s sails, and that the road to revolution can never be completely straight. Conversely, when a peasant is trying to feed his ox, there will be periods of drought when the grass is dried up; and when trying to grow a tree he may encounter a thunderstorm that washes away the seeds he has planted. However, a lack of wind and rain is not frightening, nor is an excess of wind and rain. All counterrevolutionaries attempt to use mass murder as a means of extinguishing the revolution. They want to kill off the revolution while it is still in the cradle. They figure that the more people that are killed, the smaller the revolution will be, to the point that if everyone is killed, then the revolutionary flame will be completely extinguished. Yet, contrary to the subjective view of these counterrevolutionaries, in fact, the more people who are killed by anti-revolutionaries, the stronger the revolutionary tide becomes and the closer the anti-revolutionaries will come to being exterminated. This is an immutable law. Here in Chenggang, although for the moment murder is still out of the question, there is nevertheless an enormous clamor around attempts by the anti-revolutionaries to stifle and kill off revolutionaries. Who are our enemies? Who are our friends?