by Liu Zhenyun
The first two hours of the exam were devoted to politics. I felt a sudden dizziness and nausea, but I gritted my teeth and kept at it. Finally, I felt better, but then was overtaken by an unprecedented sense of fatigue. I’m finished, I said to myself. I’m going to fail.
Besides, I couldn’t concentrate, for I kept thinking about Ailian and the note she’d sent two days before.
“Ge,
The exam will start soon, and whether or not we’ve wasted six months of hard work will be revealed over the next two days. I can’t take it in town because I must stay here to care for my father, but I’ll go to the exam site in Xinxiang. Ge, my dear, we can’t sit in the same room but I know our hearts are together. I think I’ll pass, and with all my heart I wish you the best of luck. Ailian.”
That was all she wrote. I’d gazed in the direction of Xinxiang, letter in hand, as a tremor stirred in my heart.
Now as I sat in exam room, I couldn’t stop wondering about her: has she made it in time to the Xinxiang site? Is she exhausted from taking care of her father in the hospital? Is she intimidated by the exam paper? Does she know the answers? And then a sudden vision of her stern face appeared in my head; she was saying to me,
“Stop those wild thoughts, for my sake, and focus on the exam.”
That enabled me to close my eyes and concentrate on the questions. Now I knew what they were and how to answer them. They weren’t too hard; in fact, I’d memorized them all. Feeling more self-assured, I was no longer afraid as I started writing after shaking my fountain pen a few times. As soon as I began, I was able to recall everything I’d memorized. I was happy about my change of mentality and grateful for the timely appearance of Ailian’s stern face. I kept writing, constantly checking the time on a borrowed wristwatch, and finished just as the bell rang.
I got up, surprised to see that I was drenched in sweat, beads of water dripping from the tips of my hair. Ma Zhong’s menacing voice sounded from the rostrum: “Time’s up. Stop now. Turn your paper upside down on your desk. This one minute isn’t going to decide whether you pass or not. You are now like ants on a hot wok; it’s, useless no matter how hard you race against time.”
I wasn’t worried, as I put the paper on my desk and walked out.
Father was already on his feet, standing on his tiptoes, looking in the direction of the classroom like everyone around him. He walked up when he spotted me and asked anxiously,
“How did you do?”
“Not bad.”
He smiled, a relieved smile after a long, worried wait. It looked a little forced to me, a pained and fatigued smile. There were tears in his eyes when he looked at me. I was surprised to see a glint of gratitude in those aging eyes.
“Good, very good,” he said while taking out six eggs for me. But I didn’t feel like eating anything; all I wanted was some water.
“No, no water. You have to go back inside and you’ll want to pee if you drink water.”
I couldn’t follow his advice, and ran over to a faucet where I gulped down as much water as I could.
We had ten minutes before the next session, so I returned to the dorm. Mozhuo and Haozi were both there, the former flipping through a book with great urgency. When he saw me, he said in a trembling voice verging on tears, “I’m finished, banzhang. I was so stupid. I memorized every one of the questions, but I mixed them all up. I put down ‘General guidelines for socialism’ for ‘the party’s basic guidelines.’”
“What about the other five questions?”
“I messed up two of those too.” He was almost crying now. “Oh, no. I’m going to fail the politics part.”
“It’s over, so stop thinking about it,” I said. “Now just try to focus on the next one, Math.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You did well on the first part, so you’re not worried.” He still sounded worried. “I knew all the answers but I messed them up. It’s so unfair. I’m so stupid, just stupid.” With a pained look, he began to bang his fists against his head.
Haozi wasn’t looking much better, as he sprawled on his bed without saying a word.
“What about you, Haozi?”
“None of your business.” He actually glared at me before putting his head in his hands and crying out in agony. “Fuck. I knew all the questions but they didn’t know me. It was easy for me, because I didn’t write anything. I managed to write a few words when the bell rang. Do you think the damned readers will give me a few points for “Long Live the Chinese Communist party’?”
The bell sounded for the next session. All the students returned to the room, some looking happy, some worried, and some utterly downcast. The families gathered again to wait beyond the line, including my father, who was back on the broken brick under a scorching sun. Ma Zhong gave us another lecture: “Some students did not behave in the previous session. Obey the rules this time or don’t blame me if I throw you out.”
We were all on edge as we waited for him to finish, because that took away eight minutes of our time. Finally the exam papers were handed out; the noise of everyone spreading them out filled the room before silence returned as we read the questions, followed by the sound of pens scratching paper.
Suddenly I heard a “thud” behind me and the room was thrown into chaos. I turned to look; I was shocked to see Mozhuo passed out on the floor. The proctoring teachers raced over to him, giving some students the opportunity to whisper or sneak a peek at others’ paper. The teachers had to forget about Mozhou to maintain order, while Ma Zhong repeated his threats. Mozhuo was carried out only after the room quieted down.
I took a look at him as he was carried past me. His eyes were closed, he was shaking uncontrollably, even his teeth were clattering; sweat dripped from his hair onto his ghostly white face. The sight pained me so much I began to tear up. Mozhuo, my good pal, is it over for you? Where’s your menthol balm? Why didn’t you put a thick layer around your temples? Why did you have to pass out like that? Six months’ hard work wasted. How terrible for you, my good pal!
Another commotion broke out before this one was over. It was Haozi. Ma Zhong, who was standing in front of him watching him answer questions, abruptly snatched the exam paper away from him.
“What are you doing?” Ma’s eyes bulged in anger. “What kind of equations are these? Are you trying to be a troublemaker?”
The other teachers were startled.
“What’s going on? Did he write an antirevolutionary slogan?”
“No, he didn’t, but he’s caused plenty of trouble. Let me read it to you.” Ma began in a singsong voice, “‘Party Central Committee and Ministry of Education, I’m very emotional as I write this letter to you. I don’t know the answers to the questions, but my heart is devoted to you, so please let me into a college. I promise I will do my best to serve the people.’ What’s this all about? The times have changed and you can no longer get into college by writing a letter like Zhang Tiesheng did.”
Ma Zhong ranted on and on until the principal came in to stop him and allow the students the peace and quiet to continue.
The two days passed like that, and the exam was over.
7
The exam was over.
I thought I did pretty well and would likely get into a college, if not the best one. When I told father, who had waited for two days beyond the line, about my feelings, for the first time in this old farmer’s life, he hugged his son tightly, like a Westerner, so excited he was incoherent.
“Are you kidding me? That’s great.”
He let go and, with a happy laugh, walked out of the school holding my hand. “Let’s go home,” he said. I had to remind him that my stuff was still in the dorm. So he left on his own, saying he’d take the good news to my mother and younger brother.
Now that the review sessions were over, the students would soon go their separate ways. Some did well, others did badly, which made some laugh and others cry. But we were about to say good-bye, so everyone suppressed their emotions and gathered
in the big dorm, where we chatted like brothers and sisters. The only one missing was Mozhuo, who was still in the hospital. Pooling our money together to hold a farewell party, we bought two bottles of liquor and a pack of peanuts, and we each had a couple of peanuts as we took turns sipping the liquor. Some were so moved they began to weep, and a few girls sobbed openly. We continued chatting when the liquor was gone, vowing we wouldn’t forget each other whether or not we passed the exam, whether we made it big or remained a farmer. Someone cited a line from the classics: “Never forget others, even in fame and wealth.” We continued until sunset, when everyone packed and returned to their village homes.
I lingered after everyone left, as I searched for a place to relax by myself. Eventually I ran five kilometers and arrived at a bridge, where, not seeing anyone around, I stripped naked and jumped into the river to wash myself clean of the dirt I’d accumulated over the past six months. After that, I swam downstream and then upstream; when I was tired, I floated on my back to gaze at the blue sky. Before long, I was reminded of Wang Quan, Mozhuo, and Haozi, and that dampened my spirits. I was happy now, but they must be suffering. Like someone who has committed a shameful act, I quickly got out of the water and put my clothes back on.
As I walked down a path, my mind was in a mixture of joy and sadness. I thought about my parents and younger brother, who had scrimped on everything over these months so I could attend the study sessions. I should go pack up and return home right away. Then my thoughts turned to Ailian, as I wondered if her father had recovered and how she’d done in the exam. I had a sudden attack of anxiety, and made a decision to go to Xinxiang the next day.
Experiencing a jumble of thoughts, I walked on and suddenly saw, directly ahead, a donkey cart carrying manure. The carter looked like Wang Quan, so I ran forward to catch up, and it was indeed him. With a shout, I threw my arms around him.
It had been barely a month since I’d last seen him, but he was already a different person; retaining no trace of his student days, he looked like a typical farmer, with a tattered straw hat, a soiled jacket, a stubbled face, and a whip.
He was glad to see me as he returned the hug, asking me about the exam, while I inquired about his wheat harvest, his wife and children. We laughed, not knowing who should answer first.
We walked together for a while and said all the things we wanted to say to each other, when I was reminded of Li Ailian.
“Do you have any news of Li Ailian? How’s her father’s illness? She told me she’d take the exam in Xinxiang. Do you know how she did?”
Instead of answering, he looked at me with searching eyes.
“Don’t you know what happened to her?”
“What happened? She wrote to say she’d take the exam in Xinxiang.”
He sighed. “She never took it.”
I was stunned; my mouth hung open, for I didn’t know what to say. He was quiet, keeping his head down.
“What?” I finally found my voice. “She didn’t take the exam? Impossible. She told me in her letter that she would.”
“She didn’t.” He sighed again.
“What did she do then?”
He stopped and squatted down, holding his head in his hands. It took him a moment to continue. “You really don’t know? She got married.”
“Ah!” The news came like a thunderclap. I didn’t know how to react. When I finally recovered, I grabbed him.
“You’re lying. That’s nonsense. How could it be? She wrote to me. How could she be married? We’re good friends, Wang Quan, so please be serious.”
He began to sob. “So you really didn’t know? We’re good friends and I know how you feel about her, so why would I lie to you? Her father was seriously ill and began coughing up blood when they reached Xinxiang. The hospital demanded five hundred before they would admit him for a lifesaving operation. But where would her family find the money? Her whole family was worried sick when Lü Qi, a man who had recently struck it rich in her village, offered to pay for them, if Ailian would marry him. With her father’s life hanging in the balance, they had no choice but to agree.”
I let go of him and stood up in a daze. It felt so unreal.
“But, but what about the letter?”
“She was trying to make you feel better so you could focus on the exam. Did you ever wonder how she could take an exam in Xinxiang without being a local resident?”
That came as another thunderclap. Of course, she couldn’t. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I was so stupid, so selfish. I was thinking only about myself.
“When was the wedding?”
“Yesterday.”
“Yesterday? I was taking the exam yesterday.”
My teeth were clattering. I must have presented a terrifying sight, for he stopped crying to comfort me.
“Don’t take it so hard. It’s over, so don’t feel bad. It won’t do any good.”
“She’s married?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she wait till after the exam? Why be in such a hurry?”
“The man was afraid she’d change her mind if she passed the exam. That’s why.”
I gave my head a savage thump. “Which village?”
“The Wang Village.”
“What’s the guy’s name again?”
“Lü Qi.”
“I’m going to go see him.”
Ignoring his shouts, I took off running as if my life depended on it, while he came after me. When I reached the edge of the village, I realized I’d been heading toward Guo Village, where her parents lived. I turned and ran toward Wang Village.
I slowed down when I got there, as my head cleared up. I was reminded of what Wang had said: “What’s the point of looking her up now that she’s married?” I squatted down by the entrance of the village and began to sob.
After crying for a while, I dried my tears and walked into the village, where I asked directions to Lü’s house. I was greeted by a large red character for double happiness when I reached his door. Another explosion went off in my head, as if struck by a thick log. All I could do was stand there like an idiot, not moving, for a long time.
Finally the door opened with a creak and out walked a woman dressed in a bright red blouse over a pair of green Dacron pants, a red velveteen flower in her hair. Was that the girl who had put her arms around me and called me “ge”? Was that the girl I’d held in my arms and kissed? The one who’d said we’d never forget each other?
But she’d been married the day before, instead of taking the exam, and was now someone else’s wife.
I stared at her. I couldn’t move.
Finally she saw me and she quaked, as if struck by lighting. She froze.
I remained motionless, not even shedding a tear. I opened my mouth to say something, but it was parched and something was stuck in my chest to make my tongue stiff. I couldn’t utter a word.
She was quiet too; leaning her head weakly against the door frame, she gazed at me until tears began to stream down her face.
“Ge—”
I managed to muster enough energy to call out to her, in a tiny voice.
“Meimei—”
“Come inside. This is my house.”
“Your house?”
I turned and ran off; I ran until I reached a riverbank outside the village, where I threw myself down and began to cry.
She caught up with me.
I told her to go home after we’d walked a while.
“Go on back home.”
She caught me off guard by resting her head on my shoulder and crying uncontrollably. Then she turned my face toward her to kiss and touch me, abandoning all reason and common sense.
“Don’t forget me, Ge.”
I held back tears and nodded.
“Don’t be mad at me. I know I’ve let you down.”
“Ailian!” I took her into my arms.
“When you go to college, Ge, remember you’re there for both of us.”
I nodded again.
“Don’t forget there are two of us, no matter where you are, what you do, or how your life turns out.”
I could only keep nodding.
Dusk had descended, with the last rays of bloody sun lingering on the western sky.
I left.
After a while, I turned back to look. She was still on the riverbank gazing in my direction. A wind raised her lapel, as she stood by a small willow tree, against an evening sky with a hint of blue and the blood-red sunset. It looked like a paper-cut.
Office
1
May First, China’s Labor Day, was just around the corner. The government office had a truckload of pears delivered for the employees. When it was time to divvy them up, a platform scale was set up outside the building, where straw was strewn across the ground. Two men, Lao [old] He and Xiao [young] Lin, carried a large basket of pears into their office, where their co-workers began scrounging for means to transport their pears home. One found a mesh bag in his desk drawer, another came up with a ripped paper bag, and the third took possession of the wastepaper basket. Xiao Peng went for the carrying basket, saying she could use it for coal briquettes at home. Then Xiao Lin was sent to borrow a steelyard and a scale pan for the second round of dividing up the pears. Lao Qiao, who’d been to see a doctor earlier (Xiao Peng said it had something to do with her uterus, but no one felt comfortable asking), made it back in time to see that every type of container had been claimed. Not letting on how displeased she was, she went instead to check on the pears and cried out the moment she removed the lid.
“Hey, why did you guys bring rotten pears?”
Her officemates stopped what they were doing and rushed over to see. Sure enough, all rotten, the edible portions running from one-third to two-thirds of each pear. Even the best of them had coin-sized bad spots. Discontent rained down on He and Lin. We trusted you two when we sent you for the pears, so why did you bring back nothing but rotten fruit? Lao Sun, the deputy section head, told Lao He, “Go check the other offices and see what their pears look like.”