The Civil Servant's Notebook Part 3

At first I didn't believe them, but Huang Xiaoming said his brother's son, a poor student, had gone with his family before the high school entrance exams to burn incense at the temple. Sure enough, he got an excellent score and was admitted to a provincial-level experimental high school, the best in Qingjiang Province.

I hadn't had any luck in my career for years. If I went to Ci'en Temple to make a wish, perhaps that would change. So on a brilliant, windy Sunday I went.

Ci'en Temple is surrounded by looming peaks and deep gulches, twisted pines and eerie rocks. The temple buildings are set off by white clouds and green water, and the winding staircase threads enchantingly through forests and past cliffs.

Along the highway there were at least twenty or thirty billboards advertising the Mother G.o.ddess of West Mountain. The crowd that had come to burn incense formed a line a kilometre in length and it was a good while before I had my turn. Just as I was about to light my incense, someone slapped me on the shoulder and I turned to see a fat, shaven figure wearing an old-style robe and handmade cloth shoes on his feet, holding a string of sandalwood prayer beads and grinning at me.

At first I didn't recognise him. He didn't seem like a boss, nor did he seem like a monk. When I got a good look, I was stunned. It was Zhao Zhong!

I asked involuntarily, 'Department Head Zhao, what are you doing here? Have you come to make a wish?'

Zhao Zhong pulled me aside and said, 'Beibei, fate brings us together again. Why don't we go down the mountain and I'll treat you to dinner, then I'll tell what wish I made.'

Fl.u.s.tered, I followed him and discovered to my surprise that he was driving a Benz 600. Stunned, I said, 'Not bad, Zhao! How'd you get rich so quick?'

Zhao put his hands together and said in a false voice, 'Amitabha, my job is the daily acc.u.mulation of good karma, and the deliverance of souls from torment.' He motioned me into the car.

The Benz carried us out of the mountains. I asked him directly, 'They say all business is dirty business. You wouldn't be cheating the devout, would you?'

He answered in tones of self-satisfaction, 'Beibei, Chinese culture has little to say about good and evil. It's all about success and failure. If you succeed, that's good. If you fail, that's evil.'

Seeing Zhao's face shining with satisfaction and thinking back to his crestfallen appearance as he was driven out of the Munic.i.p.al Government, I was filled with emotion. I decided I would learn from Zhao Zhong, and see if I couldn't replicate just a bit of his success.

He took me to dinner at Jinchongcao, Dongzhou's most famous restaurant for bird's nest, shark fin and abalone. Though he kept his hands to himself during the meal, I could see he'd never entirely given up hope. He drew out a long red box and opened it to reveal an exquisite jade necklace with a gilded Guanyin Buddha. It filled me with longing.

Zhao Zhong insisted on hanging it around my neck and said in tones of the deepest sincerity, 'Beibei, I bought you this present six months ago. I knew then we have a common destiny, and that one day I would hang it around your neck. And look, my wish has come true.'

Zhao Zhong had truly never abandoned his plans for me. For some reason I'd always seen him as an ugly toad, hoping for a mouthful of swan's meat, but perhaps frogs really could become princes. After I'd heard him expound on his theory and philosophy of running temples, I practically worshipped him, but I still gently and tactfully rejected his present. I couldn't let him in so quickly. I would play him out on a long line.

The biggest revelation that came from my chance encounter with Zhao Zhong was the fact that most people who worship Buddha do not believe in Buddhism but are simply hoping to further their own interests. Zhao Zhong was getting rich from people's willingness to turn to Buddhism for the things they couldn't get by themselves. All the stories of the efficacy of the Mother G.o.ddess were fabricated by him as part of his business strategy. Even the abbot of the temple was hired by him, with a salary. He was the CEO of Ci'en Temple Ltd.

Zhao's success lay in his grasp of timing and opportunity, his ability to advance with the times, to hold firm while all else is in flux. In a world as changeable as ours, the only thing I see remaining stable is human greed. Greed knows no limits. It is eternal and unchangeable. But how to turn that greed into reality, a reality of success and fame?

I attended a department-level cadre training session at the Munic.i.p.al Administrative Academy. A leader of the Academy spoke at the start of the session, and that was the first time I beheld the glorious visage of Peng Guoliang's wife, Zhang Peifen. She was Vice-President of the Academy. My reaction can be summed up in one word: ugly! It was an immeasurable boost to my confidence.

When I returned to the office from the training session, Hu Zhanfa gave me a job: go to Mayor Peng's office and help him arrange some photographs. It was a heaven-sent opportunity, and my heart immediately started thumping.

My life had always resembled a pool of stagnant water, without the slightest ripples. I was determined to hurl a stone into its centre, to make myself known. I had neither the ambition nor the ability to save the world, but I could save one man. I didn't mean w.a.n.g Chaoquan, of course. He was beyond saving. Nor did I mean Mayor Liu, as he was already out of my reach. I wasn't sure if it might include Zhao Zhong or not, but I was saving one man for sure, and that was Peng Guoliang. I would free him from his hideous wife, and use my love to make him understand that there is a power in this world that can call forth his tears, and that power was my love.

When I entered his office, he was sitting on the sofa, distracted by a photograph in his hand. There were several drawers' worth of photographs on the coffee table in front of him, and several new photo alb.u.ms to one side. It appeared that my task would be to put the photos in the photo alb.u.ms. I respectfully called to him. 'Mayor Peng!'

He awoke from his memories, a sweet smile on his face. When he saw me, his eyes lit up amiably and he asked me to sit, displaying none of a mayor's usual severity towards his underlings.

I was embarra.s.sed by the seductiveness of his gaze, but I steeled myself and sat down next to him, asking, 'Mayor Peng, what photographs have got you so distracted? Are they of an old lover?'

Had it been Mayor Liu, I would never have dared flirt like this.

'Beibei, do you know what lovers signify?' asked Mayor Peng, his eyes dancing. 'I think real love only exists between lovers. Marriage is only a formality; any love that is limited by rules, responsibility and duty isn't true love.'

My dream was to become a famous consort. Even if I should be hanged at Maweipo like Yang Guifei, it would be worth it. So I looked directly at him and said, 'A moment can be the point of a knife!'

Mayor Peng chuckled. 'I like knife points! I've been waiting for the point of a knife for a long time, Beibei. Do you have the courage to be that knife point?'

This was bald provocation. Since you like knife points, I thought, why don't I give you a p.r.i.c.k and see if you bleed?

'Mayor Peng,' I said, drawing near him boldly. 'Aren't you afraid of being bitten by a snake?'

'Beibei,' he answered, breathing heavily, 'is it the snake of the Garden of Eden? Don't forget, it was that snake that taught us to eat of the forbidden fruit. Be my forbidden fruit, I can't wait any longer!'

Then he pressed me to him, and I became his forbidden fruit. I had finally taken the first step towards realising my dream of becoming empress, and it thrilled me. I longed for the depths, the depths of love, to plunge into the depths of night, until I reached Peng Guoliang's heart. I wanted to sleep, rise and live within his heart, to kiss his heart every day.

Since I ran into Zhao Zhong at Ci'en Temple, the fatty won't leave me alone. He asks me to dinner at regular intervals, giving me a salon gift certificate one day, a Chanel handbag the next, sparing no expense. Two days ago, he treated me to dinner and told me some surprising news: at the end of the year, Liu Yihe will be replacing the old mayor. He is going to be appointed Vice-Secretary of the Munic.i.p.al Party Committee, and become acting mayor.

If Liu Yihe becomes Mayor of Dongzhou, Peng Guoliang's position as a standing vice-mayor might no longer be safe. Everyone knows they don't get on. And if as a result Peng is transferred to another city, my empress dreams will be extinguished before they've barely begun.

There's nothing like a few drinks when you're feeling glum. Zhao Zhong was well aware of how his news had affected my mood, and was getting me drunk. In fact, I got completely blotto. Zhao Zhong took me to his car. I told him to take me home. He ignored me completely and drove the Benz to the Kempinski Hotel, where he'd booked a room in advance, and took me straight into the elevator.

The moment we were in the room, Zhao rushed to embrace me and carry me to the double bed, saying all the while, 'Beibei, I've wanted you for so long!'

I knew perfectly well that Zhao Zhong had long ago planned out tonight's dinner. I had drunk too much and had no strength to resist. Now that I knew that Liu Yihe would return to Dongzhou as mayor, I had no reason to resist either, because if Liu Yihe returned it was almost certain that Peng Guoliang would be transferred. Only Zhao Zhong could keep this from being a complete loss, as his relations with Liu Yihe meant that being with him would enable me to realise my dreams of becoming empress, or at least a respectable shopkeeper.

While my mind was racing, Zhao Zhong had rushed to undress me, but to my absolute surprise, after going through strenuous motions, that thing of his stayed limp as a dough stick. Being unable to perform with a woman as pure and ravishing as me it was nothing less than an insult!

Incensed, my mind began to clear, and as I pulled on my clothes I said to him scornfully, 'Zhao Zhong, you call yourself a man?!' Then I went out, slamming the door behind me. It was after midnight when I left the hotel.

I followed the sidewalk aimlessly, feeling wretched. What was I . . . I wanted to live like an empress, I had the capability of living like an empress, but I was living like a prost.i.tute. Cars streamed along Liberation Avenue, their lights cutting swathes through the fog, and people stood scattered along the roadside. I took a closer look at the made-up women on display, some standing solitary, some in groups of two or three. Sometimes a car would pull over and hail them, and I realised that they were what men called 'wild chickens'.

A black Audi pulled up beside me and a man rolled down the window and asked me how much for a night. A sense of humiliation washed over me and I hurried to flag a taxi.

Number Two Department, Director-Level Section Member, Zhu Dawei.

SOMETIMES I THINK that if my spirit could skitter around the office building like a rat, visiting all the leaders of the Munic.i.p.al Government, I would learn all manner of interesting things. If I'm not permitted to be a wolf, I could at least be a rat.

Even so, I would be a rat only in spirit.

Don't think that I never aspired to anything greater than rathood. But if you want to be a dragon, you must first learn to pa.s.s, rat-like, through the dark places. Actually, I once wanted to be neither a dragon nor a rat, but a fox. I think there are two kinds of people in the world: foxes who strut about in the company of tigers, and foxes who merely wish they knew a tiger. Some people, once they become officials and gain some authority, believe that they've become tigers or dragons. That's bulls.h.i.t! The actual tiger or dragon is official position, and official power. Anyone who achieves position and power is actually only a fox in the guise of the tiger or dragon. Even a rat, once in the seat of power, can command the tiger's might, the way a clod of mud will sparkle brilliantly if gilded.

I was born in the year of the rat and because my spirit often goes wandering around the building while I'm working, my girlfriend gave me the nickname 'Rat'. She's called Shang Xiaoqiong, and has worked for the Provincial Disciplinary Committee for six years. Her job is catching crooked officials, so I gave her the nickname 'Cat', and that's what we usually call each other: Cat and Rat.

I came to work at the Munic.i.p.al Government in pursuit of a grand career. In college I'd dreamed of becoming mayor or governor, creating wealth and happiness for the common folk, but my father told me that real success consisted only of winning respect from this world of power brokers. Without a position of respect, no one would take you seriously, and you would have to live by taking your hints from the power brokers. My father was in politics for nearly twenty years, and while he never made a name for himself, he learned a few things, and one thing he said stuck with me: a person without social status would never have 'n.o.bility'.

Though his judgement was extreme, it spoke precisely to the world as I saw it. I felt in my bones that your social status was equated with your worth as a human being. That was beyond doubt. My father was never given the chance to shine, though he was extremely capable. This became clear after he left the Munic.i.p.al Committee and single-handedly created the greatest real estate group in Dongzhou. Though he was unstoppable in business, he never forgot his dreams of politics, and before I'd even graduated from college, he was already pulling strings and concocting schemes to get me into the Munic.i.p.al Government. At first he considered Number One Department, Combined Affairs, but the mayor, once the second part of his term was up, would become director of the Munic.i.p.al People's Consultative Conference, and the one most likely to replace him would be Liu Yihe, then a standing vice-mayor. After nearly twenty years in politics, my father had great faith in his own judgement, so I went to Number Two Department, which served Vice-Mayor Liu directly.

My father's final exhortation was that if I wanted a future in officialdom, I would need to follow the right man. When my father was head of the real estate department of the Munic.i.p.al Committee, he had followed the wrong man. He'd been thick with the vice-director but had offended the number one, and nothing went right for him after that. What I learned from his experience was that if you wanted to be a number one you had to follow a number one.

How to follow, exactly?

That was up to me.

There were only two 'number ones' I could follow in the Munic.i.p.al Government at the time. One was Zhao Zhong, Department Head, and the other was Xiao Furen, Deputy Chief Secretary and Director of the Munic.i.p.al Government. As soon as I arrived, I noticed the unusual relationship between Department Head Zhao and Mayor Liu even Director Xiao had to bow to Zhao but I never did figure out the exact nature of that relationship. I was lowest ranked and least experienced in the department, and I knew quite well that remedying that would take time. But I was in a hurry, and not everyone got ahead by waiting. Those who could make their own way were rare, but they went up like rockets. I knew there was some trick to it, though I didn't yet know what. I even wished I were a tapeworm in a leader's gut, so that I could learn all the different tricks people used to get ahead and employ them myself. My future would be guaranteed.

For the time being, however, I would have to be Zhao Zhong's tapeworm. I would first learn how he thought, then ingratiate myself with him and obtain more opportunities to improve myself. Zhao believed that one's talent corresponded to one's official grade: the higher the grade, the greater the talent. In Number Two, Zhao Zhong's grade was highest, and he therefore naturally believed himself to be the most talented. But since I'd arrived, I'd never once seen him write a doc.u.ment. Important materials were all written by Vice Department Head Xu Zhitai and Department-Level Researcher Huang Xiaoming. Huang was the only section member in the Munic.i.p.al Government with a master's degree and the more theoretical a.s.signments were all his to write. Even the most insignificant meeting minutes were more often given to Junior Department-Level Researcher Ou Beibei than to me, and her job was mostly administrative.

I became the most idle member of Number Two Department. Luckily the Deputy Chief Secretary who corresponded to Mayor Liu was Xiao Furen, and every time Xiao Furen was asked to arrange some business or attend a meeting on behalf of Mayor Liu, he would bring me along. I practically became Director Xiao's secretary. Zhao Zhong might have looked down his nose at Director Xiao, but my father constantly urged me to serve him well because he would have a crucial influence on my future. After a period of observation, I noticed that Director Xiao's greatest interest was in chess, so I secretly began to study the game. This plan paid off. Not only was I Director Xiao's secretary in everything but name, but I also became his favourite chess partner. This position brought me no small political advantage.

I discovered that when everyone is eager to cross the river and pan for gold, I could do better by building a bridge and charging them a toll than I could by joining them. I might have no greater role in the department than writing up the minutes of meetings and only deputy chief secretary-level meetings at that but if I had the chance to write something important, I know I could compare with Xu Zhitai or Huang Xiaoming. That kind of formalistic writing has a pattern. All you need is to grasp your leader's point of view and have a sense of how the political winds are blowing, and then address the problems your leader cares about. It never fails.

Mayor Liu's impending departure meant a change of dynasty was coming to Number Two Department. Zhao Zhong's visa to j.a.pan arrived just as Mayor Liu was about to change jobs, and that night he now Vice-Governor Liu booked a private room at Beautiful World and treated everyone in the department to dinner to thank them for their hard work in his service.

That was the first time I met Mayor Liu face to face. During dinner he patiently enquired after me. I'd prepared for this beforehand. It was a rare opportunity. I would use it to create a deep impression, or at least to make him realise that a dragon had been crouching by his side all this time, and make him wonder what exactly Zhao Zhong was up to. I was determined to make the d.a.m.ned hog look bad.

Mayor Liu asked me about my education, and I answered that I'd studied politics. His eyes brightened, and he asked me in careful tones whether I might recommend a couple of cla.s.sic works on politics to him. The blood began to rush through my body. I thought to myself that I had him now. Mayor Liu, you're in a high position but I'll bet you don't have time to read, particularly the cla.s.sics. I, on the other hand, had read a whole series of political cla.s.sics while I was at university.

I feigned modesty. 'Governor Liu, you've got a master's in law. You must have read Aristotle's Politics.'

He answered frankly, 'You overestimate me, Dawei. My master's was limited to reading Marxism. I learned neither law nor politics. To tell you the truth, I haven't read a single one of Aristotle's books.'

I felt a deep respect for Mayor Liu's confidence. Huang Xiaoming interrupted, saying, 'The core of Aristotle's political thinking is the "doctrine of the mean".'

Mayor Liu asked with interest, 'Do you mean Aristotle and Confucius had the same idea?'

I was afraid Huang Xiaoming would squeeze me out of the conversation so I stepped in hurriedly. 'They're not quite the same theory. Aristotle's "doctrine of the mean" meant finding a power that could mediate between the rich and the poor in order to maintain social stability. That was the middle cla.s.s. Aristotle believed that the middle cla.s.s neither had designs on other people's wealth, as the poor did, nor aroused the jealousy of those less fortunate, as the rich did. They lived calm lives, with few worries and healthy morals, and were thus ideal intermediaries between rich and poor.'

Mayor Liu said thoughtfully, 'Aristotle's theories are worth consulting as we build a socialist market economy! Dawei, can you recommend a slightly more practical book on politics?'

From his expression, it seemed to be a sincere question, not a test, so I gathered my courage and said, 'The most practical of all is Machiavelli's The Prince.'

Intrigued, Mayor Liu asked, 'What's practical about it?'

I had recommended that book both to show off my own political ac.u.men, and even more to get a sense of Mayor Liu's political character. I answered, 'Because The Prince is the most honest portrayal of the specific techniques of political struggle.'

Mayor Liu suddenly became very serious. 'That sounds practical indeed. Tell us more.'

Everyone's ears had perked up. Even Huang Xiaoming, with his theoretical background, wore a look of intent curiosity.

I began my display. 'Machiavelli notes that there is only one goal in politics: victory. He believes that all means are acceptable in its pursuit, and if a prince is to protect his power, he must be capable of immoral acts. In attacking others, for example, one must do enough damage that one no longer has to worry about a counter-attack. Another example: evil acts should be committed once and for all, while good acts should be drawn out over time. He also reminds us that the prince should be fox-like in his ability to sniff out traps, but lion-like in projecting his authority. He gets right to the heart of the matter: "It is better to be feared than loved . . . for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails."'

Before I'd finished, Zhao Zhong broke in excitedly. 'Brilliantly incisive! This Machiavelli was a true connoisseur of politics!'

The normally mild Mayor Liu turned severe. 'So, Zhao Zhong, you support Machiavelli's point of view? Don't forget historical context when you're reading. Machiavelli lived in Florence at a time when the Italian peninsula had long been divided between five major powers: Milan, Venice, Florence, the Vatican and Naples. There were many smaller city-states and duchies besides, all of them embroiled in war, contending for supremacy, none of them able to achieve their goal of unifying Italy without greater political power. Considering this long-term destructive state of affairs, Machiavelli felt that only a concentrated centre of power would be capable of quelling internal chaos and fending off external attack, thereby preserving national sovereignty and national dignity. But Machiavelli was most in favour of a republican system, and his political career was tightly linked to the Republic of Florence. While working in the government of the Republic of Florence, he was often ordered to go abroad. As the amba.s.sador of a wealthy commercial nation lacking the strength to protect itself against bullying from its more powerful neighbours, he felt deeply the humiliation of a divided fatherland. It was under these conditions that Machiavelli wrote The Prince. He hoped that the prince would be able to use strong centralised power to stave off foreign aggression and achieve unification of Italy. Now look at you, Zhao Zhong, treating this great political thinker as a scheming co-conspirator . . . Zhao Zhong, you ought to read the original, and remember that your political point of view is the basis for your world view.'

Zhao Zhong looked mortified at Mayor Liu's scolding, which satisfied me even more. Mayor Liu was obviously a great reader of the cla.s.sics and deeply familiar with The Prince. I felt a bit abashed at having showed off in front of him, but luckily Ou Beibei picked up the thread of conversation. She'd been distracted and thoughtful all night, looking at Mayor Liu with eyes full of emotion. You wouldn't have noticed it unless you looked carefully, but the fact that I was in the midst of a love affair myself made me more observant. Cat often looked at me that same way. Inwardly, I sn.i.g.g.e.red at Ou Beibei's outsized ambition. She had already picked up the karaoke microphone and was singing 'Seeing Off the Red Army' for Mayor Liu.

Moved, everyone else began to join in. As she sang, Ou Beibei didn't look at the screen, but fixed her gaze on Mayor Liu, and as she sang 'sea-deep feelings won't be forgot, oh Red Army, the revolution is victorious, come home soon,' tears rose up in her eyes. She sang as if she were bidding a lover farewell instead of the Red Army. That confused me. Could Ou Beibei actually . . . But how could that be?

Dinner concluded with a rendition of 'Camel Bell' by Xu Zhitai. As we left Beautiful World the moon had just reached the tops of the willow trees, and for some reason I felt a melancholy akin to lines from a favourite poem, 'on the balcony, the flute sounds thin, a swing in the yard, the night is deep'. I couldn't be bothered retrieving my bicycle from the Munic.i.p.al Government compound, though it was just next door. I didn't take a taxi either. I wanted to walk in the night. My father was wealthy enough that I could have driven a Benz home from the office, but the mayor and vice-mayors only had Audis, and it would be disastrous for me to arrive in a Benz.

I like the night. As the darkness of night approaches, I feel a pleasure of escape perhaps related to my being born in the year of the rat. You never see a rat strolling down the street in broad daylight. That would be dangerous. Darkness gives me a sense of security, but I'm not willing to simply hide in the darkness, because I also need stimulation. The most pleasurable stimulation is terror, of course, and nothing is more terrifying than being on the street in daylight, because anyone crossing the street with their eyes closed is guaranteed to die in a pool of blood. If that's true for people, how much more so is it for an 'office rat' like me?

As I walked, lost in thought, my mobile phone rang. It was Cat.

The only time I could extricate myself from my rat alter ego's thoughts and become a human again was when I heard Cat's voice or saw her in person. That's what attracted me to her. Sometimes I'd even wonder: when such a beautiful woman comes face to face with corrupt officials, do they think improper thoughts? Perhaps her beauty might even encourage those officials to confess their crimes.

At any rate, she might only be a girl in her twenties, but she's partic.i.p.ated in many high-profile anti-corruption cases and she says when she meets these officials, she feels like a cat facing a mouse. I hadn't seen Cat for more than a week and thought she might be missing me, wanting me to take her out to a disco or to a bar. She likes dancing, or going for a drink. She may be a real beauty, but she drinks booze like it's water.

I had just greeted her with a warm 'Xiong!' when she interrupted to tell me that she'd been a.s.signed to a case in Changshan. Curious, I asked her what the case was, and she said it was secret, but Secretary Qi was leading the team herself and her whole office was involved. She told me to be good since she might be gone for a couple of weeks, then blew me a kiss and hung up.

I stood there dumbly, shaking my head and thinking that if Secretary Qi Xiuying were leading the team herself then it wasn't only a big case, but also one with far-reaching consequences, likely to shake Changshan City. Qi Xiuying might have been Secretary of the Qingjiang Provincial Disciplinary Committee for less than a year, but she had already unseated corrupt mayoral-level officials from three different cities, and the name 'Qi Xiuying' was making officials across the province uneasy. She had a nickname too. She was known as the 'Female Bao Gong' after the Song Dynasty official who executed members of his own family in his fight against corruption and even dared to indict the emperor's relatives too.

After that farewell dinner with Mayor Liu and once Zhao Zhong had left for j.a.pan, Xu Zhitai could restrain himself no longer.

In the open letter he presented to us all, which was to be sent to the Munic.i.p.al Party Organisation, the three characters 'Huang Xiaoming' were signed in a strong hand. Ou Beibei's name was in a much weaker one, as though she were hesitating even as she signed. To be honest, I wasn't enthusiastic about partic.i.p.ating, because even if we succeeded it could bring me no advantage. A successful coup wouldn't result in promotion, and a failed coup didn't bear imagining.

When Xu Zhitai asked me to sign, I said I had to visit the restroom, and straightaway called my father's mobile phone and explained the situation. I often told him the news from the office, and he had a good sense of what went on in Number Two Department and the whole Munic.i.p.al Government. He told me to go immediately to Xiao Furen and report on the situation. I felt much better.

I turned left out of the restroom and pa.s.sed two doors to Xiao Furen's office. I hurried inside and found him reading doc.u.ments. When he saw me coming in all fl.u.s.tered, he knew something must be going on, and motioned me towards a chair in front of his desk. I collapsed into it then hesitated. Wasn't I about to sell out my friends and colleagues? If Xu Zhitai, Huang Xiaoming or Ou Beibei found out, how could I stay in the department?

Xiao Furen wasn't Director of the Munic.i.p.al Government for nothing. He saw through me right away. He took a sip of tea, smiled, and said, 'Dawei, Mayor Liu has gone to the provincial government, the new standing vice-mayor hasn't taken office yet, Zhao Zhong is on a trip abroad. I wonder if someone in your department is getting ideas?'

Your leader is your leader, and it was time to make good on my loyalty. I laid out all the details of the coup from start to finish, after which Xiao Furen chuckled and said, 'You must all have felt uncomfortable under Zhao Zhong's rule. With a backer like Mayor Liu, he doesn't even have to take me seriously, much less Xu Zhitai. Mayor Liu knows all this perfectly well. Why do you think he didn't leave Zhao Zhong any instructions before he left for the provincial government? Obviously Mayor Liu saw through him long ago. Just go with the group on this one, Dawei. But you've done the right thing. You should toe the party line in all things. Do you know why Xu Zhitai has been vice department head for a decade? Because he just keeps his head down and pulls his cart, he never looks up at the road ahead. If you don't raise your head from time to time, how will you know whose cart you're pulling?'

Xiao Furen's words came as a revelation to me. To me, the 'party line' in this case was Xiao Furen. Everyone in Number Two Department sought the favour of the mayor and vice-mayors, thinking only those officials could change their fates, but they'd forgotten that the real official in charge was Xiao Furen. I was as excited as Columbus discovering the New World, and rushed back to the office, where I signed the open letter without the slightest hesitation. I knew Zhao Zhong was done for, but I also knew that even if he left, Xu Zhitai would never become the new department head. Who would promote someone who didn't know how to toe the party line?

As he enjoyed the sights of Hokkaido, Zhao Zhong could never have imagined that Number Two Department, so firmly under his thumb, was preparing for revolution, and with the support of the munic.i.p.al authorities, no less.

When he came to work the day after he returned from j.a.pan, he showed off photos from his trip. He had only just spread them across Xu Zhitai's desk when the interior phone line rang. After he took the call, he went outside. We guessed it was something out of the ordinary, and sure enough Zhao Zhong was gone for two hours. When he finally returned, his face looked like eggplant skin.

After dropping into his chair, panting, Zhao Zhong smoked two cigarettes in a row, then his face darkened and he said, 'Seeing as everyone's here, let's have a department meeting. This may be the last department meeting I call. No need to be nervous, I'm not trying to take revenge, I don't have that right any more. I'd just like to tell you all a story by the great Ji Xiagang: 'One day, by way of a drinking game, a gathering of people agreed that they would confess their greatest fears to each other. Seated in their midst, heard but not seen, was a fox, and soon enough the fox's turn came. When they asked him what he feared, the fox said, "I'm afraid of foxes." The crowd burst out laughing. "There's nothing wrong with people being afraid of foxes, but what does a fox have to fear from its own kind?" "The only thing in the world one ought to fear is one's own kind," the fox sneered. "It is children of the same father who fight over inheritance; it is wives of the same husband who fight for his favour; it is n.o.bles of the same rank who fight for power; it is merchants in the same market who fight for profit. It is those of similar station who obstruct one another, bringing one another to ruin! A hunter of pheasants seeks to lure pheasants, not chickens or ducks; a trapper of deer sets out for deer, not for sheep or swine. One who desires to sow mistrust within a group, or to spy on it, must naturally be of a kind with that group; otherwise how could he ingratiate himself and thereby penetrate it? Thinking this way, how could a fox not be afraid of foxes?"'

Zhao Zhong looked at us one by one. 'If even foxes fear their own kind, how much more should humankind fear?' he said. 'Drop your guard for a moment, and you'll fall victim to someone's scheme.'

'Xu Zhitai, we've worked together for five years and you've always been docile as an ox. I forgot that you're my own kind! You think if you get rid of me Number Two will be yours? You're dreaming. I'll tell you. You may have gotten rid of Zhao Zhong, but after me there'll be a w.a.n.g Zhong, a Li Zhong, or a Zhou Zhong. You've been a civil servant for years, don't you understand why this is? Or maybe it's no surprise: you've had a pitiful ten years as vice-head. How about this, before I go I'll give you a few words of admonition. Do you know why they sometimes call the world of officialdom the "seas of officialdom"? Because there are so many who want to be officials, that's why. Why do so many stand forlorn on the sh.o.r.e? Because they don't know how to get on the ship. We've been colleagues for five years, and you've been vice-head for ten, and it really pains me to see you still standing on the sh.o.r.e. Remember this, Xu Zhitai: if you're planning to turn the department into a democracy, you'll need to be clear on what democracy is first. "Demos" means the common folk, "kratos" is the ruler. You're the common folk and I'm the ruler, and no ruler likes a mob. You won't get on the boat until you learn to love obedience. Rebellion is human nature; obedience is official nature. If you can't sublimate your human nature within official nature, you'll never be anything but an ant!'

With that, he abruptly stood and went out, slamming the door. No one moved. Xu Zhitai stared into s.p.a.ce, Huang Xiaoming looked through some book, Ou Beibei read a fashion magazine. I flipped through a paper. It seemed no different from any other meeting, but each of us drew the same conclusion from Zhao's speech: though we'd succeeded in our revolt against him, nothing would really change in the department. No one felt the slightest sense of victory.

The Stapler and the Staples.

THE STAPLER AND the staples were best friends. They told each other everything. in the evenings, when everyone had left Number Two Department, they discussed the life of a civil servant.

STAPLES: Do you know what the eternal subject of conversation in the corridors of power is, brother?

STAPLER: The topics vary with the changing of the guard. How could there be an 'eternal subject'?

STAPLES: Of course there is. It's politics!