by Liu Zhenyun
“Try to be serious at work, Xiao Lin. Don’t be a loafer and stop bringing animals to the office.”
He could not afford to antagonize Qiao, the party leader, so he mumbled with a red face,
“Sure. Sure. It’ll never happen again.”
That made Qiao feel a little better.
Everything would have been fine if it had ended there and would soon be forgotten. As luck would have it, something else happened at noon. Qiao, Peng, and Lin were eating in the office when Peng, out of good intentions and to show her appreciation for the cricket, said to Lin while spooning food into her mouth,
“Congratulations, Xiao Lin.”
“What for?” Lin was baffled.
“When you were away, Lao He and I had an airing-out.” Peng leaned over and whispered. “He said he’d talked to Lao Sun about approving your application to join the party.”
It was old news to Lin, who had heard it from Qiao earlier and from Sun during the trip. So what Peng just said meant that it was really going to happen. Naturally Lin was thrilled, but he was annoyed by Peng’s lack of tact and failure to take the intricate interpersonal relationships into consideration, since Qiao was sitting nearby. So he signaled to Peng with his eyes and twitched the corner of his mouth in Qiao’s direction. But Peng did not understand what he was getting at; instead she thought he was trying to make her watch out for Qiao. Looking as if she didn’t give a damn about Qiao, Peng raised her voice,
“Lao He told me to learn from you.” She followed that with a loud laugh. “But I don’t want to join the party, so I don’t care who’s guarding the party’s gate.”
Sure enough, her outburst touched a nerve again and Qiao fumed over the younger woman’s smug look: You’re not a party member so what gives you the right to discuss an application? Xiao Lin doesn’t need an airing-out with you to apply. Qiao’s wrath then turned on Lin: With your eagerness to join the party, you should be burying your head in work, but instead you’re forming a little clique, hooking up with Xiao Peng. You brought back a cricket and had an airing-out with her. If that’s weren’t enough, you’ve also linked up with Lao He behind my back to help with your application. You don’t need me anymore now that you have others to help you, so you and Peng can gang up on me. All right, then. We’ll see if you can get your application approved so easily with them on your side. I didn’t know that behind that nice appearance lies a schemer. You even gave me gifts at Labor Day, but now you’re tossing me aside after a junket with the bosses, who will obviously help you. But don’t you forget, I’m the party-group leader and we’ll see how you make it without me. Qiao was carried away by her own thoughts, and that further fueled her rage. So when Peng went to the toilet, Qiao, without thinking, went to sit in Peng’s chair and began rummaging through her desk drawers as a way to vent her anger. Peng walked in and blew her stack when she saw Qiao going through her drawers.
“Stop right there, Lao Qiao. How dare you go through my things!”
Qiao wasn’t even conscious of what she was doing, and froze at the realization when Peng screamed at her. She was tongue-tied.
Walking up to Qiao, Peng went on the attack, feeling fully justified.
“What do you think you’re doing? Just what are you doing? Have you lost your mind? You’re old enough to know what’s right and what’s wrong. Why are you so sneaky, always going through people’s stuff?”
Her mouth agape, Qiao still could not come up with a reply, as Sun and He came in and, along with Lin, tried to smooth things over. Qiao cocked her head and let her eyes sweep over everyone.
“You all think you’re better than me, don’t you?” she erupted. It seemed directed at them all.
She stood up and, with her face in her hands, ran out of the office, sobbing and kicking over her own wastebasket in the process.
Peng laughed, cackling like an old hen.
“Now let’s see if she dares do that again.”
Still engrossed in his own thoughts, Sun frowned and banged on his desk, annoyed by something.
“Let it go, Xiao Peng. This is, after all, an office.”
Lao He, who had just gotten a new pair of glasses with metal frames, took off his glasses for the hundredth time to wipe the lenses.
“Yes, let it go. Lao Qiao has health problem, so we need to be nice to her.”
Lin kept quiet. He knew the fight between the two women was a bad sign; Peng would come out unscathed, but he would not escape the consequence of what just happened. Qiao would surely blame it on him, since he was partially the cause of their spat. His apprehension grew when Qiao returned to the office in the afternoon, her eyes red from crying, with a hand over her belly. He cursed Peng for being rash and tactless and sought an opportunity to comfort the older woman and minimize the damage. But with everyone in the office and Qiao seemingly glued to her chair, he couldn’t find the right moment. Finally, it was time to knock off for the day. Lin hurried to walk out with Qiao to the bus stop. After making sure no one was around, he edged close to her and said,
“Are you all right?”
The words were barely out of his mouth when he realized it was the wrong thing to ask. What had he meant by “all right”? Was he asking after her health or was he making sure she was “all right” after the fight? As expected, she ignored his good intentions and turned to glare at him.
“Stay away from me from now on, Xiao Lin. Where did a young man like you learn to be so two-faced?”
He stopped in his tracks. By the time he recovered, Qiao was long gone. All he could do was let out a dispirited sigh as he walked down the stairs alone. He couldn’t stop wondering, unhappily, how he ended up in the same office with people like them. If he had been sent to a difference office during the postgraduation job assignment, he would never have run into these crazy people. But it was just his luck to be sent here. But then on second thought, he probably wouldn’t fare much better if he were at a different office anyway. As they say, crows are black all over the world. He was disheartened as he went home.
Life at home was tough too. The drain was stopped up again. The neighbor’s wife was fuming on the other side of the wall, while on this side his daughter was wailing, his mother had a cold, and his wife was sitting on the edge of the bed in tears.
“When will this ever end?” he asked himself.
7
Deputy Bureau Chief Lao Zhang stopped riding his bike to work, while a Volga began delivering him to and from work every day, against his wishes. He’d wanted to keep riding to work, since he needed the exercise to get rid of that thick neck of his. So he’d continued to ride to the office after the business trip, until the head of the administrative section came to see him.
“I need to get your instruction on something, Chief Zhang,” the man said as he sat on the edge of the sofa.
“Go ahead, Lao Cui, and please don’t use the word instruction.”
“Won’t you stop riding your bike to work? We have a car for you.”
“No need for a car,” Zhang said, waving the man off. “No need at all. I love riding the bike. It’s good exercise.”
Without changing his position, Cui sat quietly, looking awkward.
“What’s the matter, Lao Cui?” Zhang asked.
Cui stubbed out his cigarette and said with difficulty, “I should not be the one to tell you this, Lao Zhang, but please stop riding to work. We have enough cars and the other bureau chiefs and vice bureau chiefs all ride to and from work. Just think, what do they do if you insist on riding your bike?”
Zhang slapped his head as he saw exactly what the man was getting at. He’d just been promoted and hadn’t learned how to look at things with greater care. He had only been cycling for the exercise, but to other chiefs, not riding in a chauffeured car was posturing and would make them look bad. Fortunately for him, Lao Cui had put him straight; otherwise, he’d have kept riding, oblivious of the perception that he was set on giving others a hard time. Obviously, he had a lot to learn.
Happy to hear it, Cui stood up.
“I’m glad Chief Zhang agrees with me. That will make our job easier.”
Zhang offered Cui a cigarette. He accepted it and lit up, and then walked off in a good mood.
Starting on May 25, Lao Zhang was driven to and from work every day. It took some getting used to. Riding a bike was easier, for he could slow down or speed up whenever he felt like it, while the car zipped down the street like a whirlwind. But as time went by, he began to enjoy being driven; it was better than riding a bike, especially when he saw people moving down busy streets and passengers crowding onto packed buses. One day his driver could not restart the engine outside the residence, so Zhang hopped on his bike and rode to the office. It was hard work and farther than he recalled. He never rode his bike again.
At first people talked: “Lao Zhang settled into his chauffeured car the moment he was promoted.” But soon they, too, got used to it and stopped gossiping; they thought it was only natural that he be chauffeured around. Only his neck suffered; without the bike to work on his flabby neck, he brought a dumbbell to the office so he could exercise each morning. He would work up a sweat and, after a while, began to see positive results. His wife, on the other hand, troubled him to hitch a ride to work, since her office was on the way. Zhang made it clear to her that it was an official car, assigned to him for his convenience, and that letting family members ride in it would incur criticism from his comrades. She grumbled, but he was adamant. She rode in the car only twice, both times on rainy days, and Zhang okayed it with his driver each time.
“It’s raining today, Little Song. Okay for Lao Hu to hitch a ride?”
Touched by being asked, he said,
“Sure. Hop in!”
The news made it to his old office, fueling a new round of gossip.
“So he rode his bike to work after his promotion for show,” someone said.
“Well, he’s a deputy bureau chief now, so he deserves to be driven. Why waste the opportunity?”
Lao Sun was the only who offered no comment. He just smoked his cigarettes. He’d been feeling down of late; with so much on his mind, he had no time to worry about Zhang being driven to work. There were two reasons for his bad mood: one, he was not pleased with how his talk with Zhang during the trip had gone. It had been a tiring journey and he’d often paid for the meals but they could never settle their business. Zhang had been amiable throughout, and yet they were unable to untie the knot in their relationship after all these years. Political problems from the past could be redressed, but not personal issues. So it was a wasted trip. The second reason had to do with the poll. It had been carried out swiftly but no one had heard a word about the result since. After sounding out his hometown friend in the organization section, Sun learned the official reason—the section head was still in the hospital waiting for a repeat surgery following a partially failed operation. The man did not know the real reason, since he was only a clerk, and not privy to what was going on at higher levels. Based on his years of experience in the area, Sun knew that a promotion relied on speedy action; things could easily go south if nothing was moving, when there was no news. And once something went south, it would be hard for a promotion to go through. Sun also heard rumors that the bureau was leaning toward an outside section head. A name was even mentioned. Which meant the end for him. When he revealed his concerns to Lao He, all the man did was take off his glasses and wipe the lenses.
“What else can we do? Just wait.”
Sun fumed. How did I ever form an alliance with a useless guy like that? But he kept his anger in check, so as not to look tactless and make future maneuvering difficult. All he could do was sigh and say, “We need to work on it. We can’t just sit on our hands.”
Three days later, when Sun was alone in the office, Lao He came up to his desk with a gleeful look.
“Good news, Lao Sun.”
Sun’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of his spirited colleague. He took the cigarette out of his mouth.
“What is it? What’s the good news?”
“Guess.” Lao He was smiling.
Assuming that his promotion was moving forward, Sun brightened up. Normally he refused to play guessing games with He, but now he went along.
“News from the organization section?”
That first attempt was met with a shake of the head.
“News from the bureau?”
Again He shook his head.
“The ministry?”
More head shaking.
“I can’t guess it. What is it?”
“I heard that Lao Zhang is moving to a new place next Sunday, and it’s been confirmed.”
What a letdown. Sun’s temper flared.
“Why joke at a time like this? You call that news?”
“Why not? Just think. Wouldn’t he be impressed if we helped him move?”
Sun gave He a contemptuous look.
“You don’t know shit,” he fumed. “Now I know why you’ll be a clerk forever. Why did I ever try to team up with you? Do you think this is like children playing house and that he’ll give you a boost after you help him move? You can go if you want, but not me. Who the hell is Lao Zhang? And you, your head is stuffed full of old ideas and a peasant mentality.”
Xiao Lin walked in just as Lao He slunk back to his desk after the reprimand, and he could tell that something was wrong, but had no idea what. After losing Lao Qiao, he had doubled his efforts to get Sun and He on his side. It depressed him to see them have a falling out. He desperately wanted colleagues who were party members to get along and stand united because he was out of luck if they did not, and all his efforts—including taking the initiative, being conscientious, bringing water and cleaning desks, and aligning himself with the party organization—would be in vain.
Lao Zhang was indeed moving Sunday, from the same dorm building as Xiao Peng to one for bureau chiefs. Taking a lesson from his bike-riding experience, he agreed unhesitatingly when the general affairs office notified him of the planned move, and went home to tell his wife to pack and get ready.
A great many people showed up to help on the day of the move. The office sent two trucks and the general affairs office hired three migrant workers, while former colleagues from the office came to pitch in. Xiao Lin was there, so was Lao He, who was puzzled to see Lao Sun, who rode up halfway through the move, after cursing Zhang only days before. He greeted everyone with a laugh.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Zhang rushed out while rubbing dust off his hands.
“Not you too, Lao Sun.” Zhang was visibly touched. “The comrades from the section are all I need.”
“I’m not here to help you move. I came to help with your new place. I love arranging furniture.”
With a hearty laugh, Zhang said, “Great. I’ll turn the new place over to you. Now sit down and have a cigarette.”
Taking his cue, Sun sat on a truck tailgate, lit up, and chatted with Zhang as he watched Lin and He carry things out.
Lin had been the first to arrive. Before setting out, he’d changed into an old army uniform, the sight of which saddened his frail wife.
“Don’t go, Xiao Lin. You don’t have to demean yourself all the time. I feel terrible seeing you like this.”
“I’d rather not help those jerks move, but I have to if we want to move out of here ourselves.”
He worked harder than anyone else, quietly doing what needed to be done—carrying out a large wardrobe, moving potted plants, and lugging an armful of vats and jugs. He worked up such a sweat that even Zhang’s wife, a woman with a pug nose, was somewhat guilt-ridden.
“Let’s take a break. We’re going to wear this young man out.”
With two trucks and enough helpers, they were able to quickly load up everything and head to the new place. Zhang, Sun, and Zhang’s wife and daughter sat in on
e of the cabs, while everyone else sat in the back. Lao He and Xiao Lin sat together.
“I didn’t want to come, but I had nothing better to do at home, so here I am,” said He.
Lin said nothing.
When they arrived at the new building, everyone got off to help unload and move the stuff up the stairs, all but Sun, who went up with Zhang’s wife to work on the furniture arraignment. Lin followed them up to check out Zhang’s new apartment. Wow, a five-room unit. The living room was big enough to race horses, and a telephone had already been installed. The bathroom came with a huge tub, and the kitchen was equipped with a gas line, making it unnecessary to lug coal briquettes. Lin was actually concerned—wasn’t the place too big for a family of three? In any case, it was good to be a bureau chief. Xiao Lin knew he’d chosen wisely to come help.
By noontime, they’d moved everything inside and placed it where Sun told them. The place looked neat and orderly, which prompted a hearty laugh from Zhang, who said Lao Sun had untapped talent as an interior decorator.
“The place could use some vinyl flooring, which would make it look even better.”
When they were done, Zhang’s daughter had already cooked up a meal on the gas stove. Zhang invited everyone to sit down and have a drink, but Lao He clapped his hands to shake off the dust and said, “No need, Lao Zhang. We’re happy to help you move. You don’t have to feed us. We’re off now.”
Zhang held him back. “You can’t leave like that, after you’ve been busy helping us all morning. Don’t go.” He made Sun go in and wash up.
The others followed suit before sitting down to eat. But first they drank—hard liquor and beer. Sun’s red face was a sign that he was tipsy; his eyes watered.
“Would you like to lie down for a while, Lao Sun?” Zhang’s wife asked.
“No need. I’m fine. I’m just happy to be here to help the boss move, and I’ve had a bit too much to drink. That’s all.”
“Not at all,” Zhang said. “You haven’t drunk that much.”
When they finished eating, they got up to leave. Zhang told his driver to take everyone home. Sun, who had ridden over, hopped on his bicycle and left alone. After everyone was gone, Zhang went to the bathroom and, to his surprise, found Xiao Lin there. Apparently after lunch, Lin had noticed yellow stains on the toilet and had stayed behind to clean it, scrubbing the surface with a steel brush after pouring some cleaning solvent on the spots. Zhang was moved by the sight.