The Civil Servant's Notebook Part 7

Huang Xiaoming happened to be accompanying Mayor Peng on a trip to Shenzhen at that time, so I asked Rat to work with me in conducting a full search of Peng's and Huang Xiaoming's offices. Beforehand, I made a special report to Deng Hongchang, Director of the Provincial Disciplinary Committee's Sixth Office, hoping that the organisation could help switch me with Lin Doudou, who was responsible for cleaning Peng's office. She would take over Mayor Liu's office, and I would henceforth be a.s.signed to Peng. I was confident that the proof I needed was in that room.

Sure enough, when I went into his office one morning I discovered that since the last time I'd managed to get inside, he had hung on the wall a new calligraphy scroll in a red sandalwood frame. It was by Hu Zhanfa. He had written 'The Timely Blind Eye'. What was unusual was that where other calligraphers might have imitated the style of Zheng Banqiao, the original calligrapher, Hu's work showed traces of w.a.n.g Xianzhi. What surprised me even more was that the vigour of the work made it seem as though it had been done by the same hand that had written the 'Keeping Up With the Times' scroll in Mayor Liu's office. That particular scroll was done by Mayor Liu himself. Why did their calligraphy appear so similar?

My suspicions were aroused. This 'Timely Blind Eye' scroll was clearly something that Hu had given his boss as a parting gift. But a simple piece of calligraphy wasn't enough to prove that Hu Zhanfa was the author of the The Civil Servant's Notebook. It did, however, make me move Huang Xiaoming down the list of suspects and put Hu Zhanfa at the top.

In the lower left drawer of Mayor Peng's desk were several cartons of soft pack Zhonghua cigarettes. In the four cabinets under his bookshelves were seven or eight bottles of Hennessey and Louis XIII, as well as a light-green Chanel woman's handbag, a very delicate item, with the price tag still hanging on it: thirty thousand yuan. Beneath the calligraphy was a two-level safe that couldn't be opened without a code. I wondered to myself how much incriminating evidence might be hidden inside.

After 'cleaning' Peng Guoliang's office I went to 'clean' Huang Xiaoming's. Besides a wall full of bookcases, there was his desk with a computer on it. As I 'cleaned' I found nothing out of the ordinary, only a work journal in his drawer. Huang Xiaoming typically wrote everything on his computer and I'd never seen him with a fountain pen. This work journal was the first I'd seen of his handwriting. Though it was elegant enough, it was quite divergent from Liu Yihe's style, and more or less eliminated the possibility of Huang Xiaoming being the mysterious author.

The biggest result of my 'cleaning' expedition was to confirm Hu Zhanfa as my prime suspect. But Hu Zhanfa had already left the Munic.i.p.al Government, so how was I going to get my hands on proof? I shared my thoughts with Rat, and he gave me a smile and said, 'Leave that up to me.'

Sceptical, I asked him what he could do, and he said that Hu Zhanfa had asked him over to his house that night to work on his master's thesis. It was a heaven-sent opportunity. Hu Zhanfa was studying for an in-office master's degree but it was Rat doing all the work. If Rat could make good use of the chance to visit his house and come up with some iron-clad proof, then my days of languishing in h.e.l.l would be over. I gave him a firm, no-nonsense kiss, and told him I needed him to be a real rat.

He didn't let me down. At midnight he called me to say that he was parked outside my house and had a surprise for me. I rushed downstairs and leaped into his Benz.

'Qiong,' he said searchingly. 'How are you going to thank me?'

I replied disdainfully, 'Why would I thank you?'

He pulled a black notebook out of his doc.u.ment folder with great satisfaction and pa.s.sed it to me. 'See for yourself.'

I hurriedly opened it and scanned the first few pages. To my shock I saw it was a copy of the The Civil Servant's Notebook. Hu Zhanfa was the true author, and he had kept a copy.

Thrilled, I asked, 'Dawei, how did you get your hands on this?'

He replied smugly, 'Seek and ye shall find. When he headed to the bathroom I went through all the drawers of the desk in his study and found this black notebook. I didn't even have time to look in it. I just stuffed it in my bag. I didn't glance through it until after I'd left his house, but I got a shock when I did!'

Early the next morning I paid a visit to the Provincial Disciplinary Committee. First I reported to Director Deng, who became very agitated as he looked through Hu Zhanfa's notebook. He took me off to report to Secretary Qi on the spot.

Director of the Hong Kong Representative Office of the Dongzhou Bureau of Commerce, Niu Yuexian AFTER GUOLIANG WENT from the Dongzhou Bureau of Commerce to become a.s.sistant to the mayor of Dongzhou and the Bureau's Representative Office in Hong Kong was shut, I decided to stay on in Hong Kong to make a new life for myself. It was also Guoliang's wish that I use the foundations laid by the Representative Office to establish a venture capital and trading company, and of course I would be unable to sustain such an endeavour without Guoliang's support. He had far-reaching plans for the company. It would belong to him, and I would only be a caretaker. He often said that changes come fast and thick in politics, so if one day things changed for the worse, it would be good to have a stronghold to retreat to from the storm.

If Guoliang has a flaw, it's that he doesn't know how to read people. Since he began to depend on people like Wen Huajian, he's developed a serious gambling habit. And after he got to know Robert from the Wantong Group in particular, he began visiting not only the casinos in Macau, but also the gambling ship in Hong Kong. The money he so painstakingly saved up over the years all went to gambling. It's heartbreaking to think of it. Nonetheless, Guoliang is a real man, with the guts to stake everything on a single throw of the dice. If he left politics for business, I'm sure he'd take to it like a fish to water. He often says that life is just like a big casino.

You could say the same about love.

When we began our affair, we were making a grand gamble. I've always liked a life of risk, and after all these years of gambling, I've come to feel that my relationship with Guoliang is one of my great achievements. Guoliang often says I am a strange woman, who combines a man's wisdom with a woman's sensitivity, but I'm not strange. I'm simply a woman who knows what she needs.

I've never entertained dreams of marriage, but I do have dreams of love.

I should mention that after Guoliang fell in love with gambling, our relationship grew far more risky. You could say that I'd climbed a lofty mountain and now I was discovering it was actually an iceberg under my feet that was rapidly melting.

Although my liaison with Guoliang had brought me rewards, I had yet to achieve my original goal. Now the risks were growing greater. I guessed that his run of luck would come to an end sooner rather than later and that his love of gambling would be his undoing. Time had come for me to cash out, capital plus interest.

The Dongzhou Government had established a reward program for those who'd made significant contributions to attracting foreign investment. I made a proposal to Guoliang: why not put this money into the Hong Kong company? As standing Vice-Mayor he decided who to reward and how much to give them.

Guoliang picked up on the idea immediately. He also chose Robert Luo as a recipient of an award. In fact, Robert was neither an investor nor a target of investment. He was merely the representative of the Wantong Group in Dongzhou. But he was also the one who brought Peng Guoliang, Wen Huajian and Chen Shi to the gambling cruise ship. Giving him the award created the impression that he'd had something to do with the investment. It was also free money as far as he was concerned, and he would be thrilled with however much he was given.

Guoliang had generously agreed that I should be CEO of the Hong Kong company. He also gave me fifty per cent ownership of the company while Wen Huajian and Chen Shi got twenty-five each. They didn't protest because they were perfectly clear that my fifty per cent actually belonged to Peng. But they all miscalculated. I had made thorough preparations. Not only was my fifty per cent beyond Peng Guoliang's control, but their own quarter ownerships were actually mine to dispose of as I saw fit too.

The day the company was established, Peng Guoliang wired over thirty million Hong Kong dollars, then flew to Hong Kong with Wen Huajian and Chen Shi and checked into the Conrad Hotel. I had planned a banquet to celebrate the new company, but the three of them were taken by gambling fever and they insisted on cooling it in Macau first. I drove them to the ferry terminal and they boarded the express hydrofoil. They were gone for a day and two nights. When I went to the terminal to pick them up, there were dark circles under their eyes.

By previous arrangement, I had readied 450,000 US dollars, and when we returned to the hotel, Peng Guoliang called Robert Luo to say that in light of his contributions to the development of foreign investment in Dongzhou, the Munic.i.p.al Government had decided to reward him, and hoped that he would continue to make such contributions in the future. As elated as if he'd won the lottery, Robert came to the hotel to collect his 250,000 dollars.

After he left, Guoliang took out the remaining 200,000 and said with feeling, 'Attracting investment is hard work, my brothers. You will each take 50,000 dollars this is my reward to you.'

Chen Shi wasn't so sure. 'Many thanks to our leader for his generosity! But if this ever gets out, we should have our story in order.'

Guoliang puffed his chest out and said, 'I'm the one who decides the award amounts. If anyone asks where this 200,000 went, I'll know what to say; you can relax.'

Secretary to the Standing Vice-Mayor, Hu Zhanfa WHY DID I keep a copy of the The Civil Servant's Notebook?

For one thing, it represented an enormous labour on my part, and I wanted a copy as a keepsake. Moreover, if it really did result in the fall of Liu Yihe, I wanted a copy to hold over Peng Guoliang. So long as his star was rising, I would rise with it to my desired position. Politics is an ugly business. You always need to keep a knife in reserve, even for your own boss.

Lechery is a relatively minor sin for a politician. At worst it is a 'lifestyle problem', and once you've attained a certain status and power, it's no longer an issue at all. But addiction to gambling is a major sin. So long as you don't get deeply entangled, lechery will never lead to major expense. Gambling is different.

Eating and whoring are human nature. An affair or two won't wipe out your ancestral inheritance. But once you've become a gambler, you're liable to lose all you have, and more.

Gambling became Peng Guoliang's greatest flaw. It started out small, but now he was gambling more and more. While I was his secretary things were all right. At least we were birds of a feather. But then Huang Xiaoming succeeded me. He might have suited Mayor Liu, but for Mayor Peng he was a time bomb in the pocket. I urged Mayor Peng to choose Zhu Dawei, a born secretary, but he wouldn't listen, saying he already had plenty of people to wash his feet, and what he needed was someone to tell him what he needed to hear. It couldn't be helped. The decision wasn't mine to make. But surely you know that it's your secretary who wipes your a.r.s.e each day?

And if he wanted to suck up to the Old Leader, had it really been necessary to make his former secretary head of his Number Two Department? The fact that Yang Hengda drank urine for five years for the Old Leader showed his undying loyalty, but they say a loyal minister won't serve a second master. You can insist on dragging him to your side, telling your political opponents that the Old Leader trusts you, but you're also revealing your entire hand to the Old Leader. Do you think Yang Hengda won't report your every move back to him?

Yang Hengda doesn't seem particularly reliable to me. He's been spending a little too much time with Song Daoming and Zhao Zhong recently. Doesn't Peng Guoliang know those two are as loyal as hounds to Liu Yihe? Yang Hengda is head of Number Two, not Number One. What could he want with Song Daoming and Zhao Zhong?

In politics, once you've decided to go on the offensive you've got to be heartless about anyone who stands in your way. Forget that nonsense about 'Trust those you use, don't use those you mistrust'. You need to both mistrust your friends and make use of your enemies. But there need to be reasons for your mistrust, and you need to take care in the use you make of others. Take Yang Hengda: if Peng Guoliang really wanted to get in with the Old Leader, he shouldn't have installed Yang as head of Number Two Department. He should have promoted him to a vice bureau-level leadership position. It wouldn't have been difficult to keep him close just make him Vice-Director of the Munic.i.p.al Government. He was a full bureau-level secretary and had served the Old Leader for years. Of course he would get antsy as a mere head of a combined affairs department. Liu Yihe might have realised this long ago. He might be using Song Daoming and Zhao Zhong to undermine Peng Guoliang, via Yang Hengda. In an environment as complicated as this, it sends a chill up the spine just to see how carelessly Peng went gallivanting off to Hong Kong and Macau.

What worried me most was how it took so long for the The Civil Servant's Notebook to have its effect. How could someone of Qi Xiuying's character simply turn a blind eye? There's a line in a Lu Xun poem: 'discerning thunder amid the silence'. Could she have already begun secret investigations? That woman is crafty as a fox. Mayor Peng tried several times to invite her to dinner but each invitation had been tactfully declined. This struck me as an ill omen.

My friend in the Provincial Disciplinary Committee told me that they never received any anonymous letters reporting poor conduct on the part of Liu Yihe, whereas they got sacks of such letters about Peng Guoliang. The previous secretary had simply sat on them. They were all good friends and of course looked out for one another. But Qi Xiuying was different. She benefited from the anti-corruption effort. She climbed a ladder made of the bones of the corrupt, and that was why Mayor Peng instinctively grew worried when she arrived in Qingjiang Province.

That's why I thought of using the connection between Xu Zhitai and Lin Yongqing to get to Qi Xiuying, arranging for the 150-square-metre split-level villa in Hegang Gardens for Lin Yongqing. Once he'd moved into his dream home, he was firmly in our camp, of course, and did his best to sway Qi Xiuying, but never to any great effect. I began to worry on Mayor Peng's behalf, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say I was worried for myself. I've been deputy head of Oldbridge for less than a year, and if things get rocky for Peng, my dreams will begin to burst like bubbles.

What a horrible woman Qi Xiuying is. If I'd known, I would have written a The Civil Servant's Notebook about her instead, and mailed it to the Central Disciplinary Committee. It was too late for all that now, because my copy of the Notebook has been stolen for sure, and it can't have been by anyone other than Zhu Dawei, whom I had trusted so completely. This fellow's father has made the biggest contribution to foreign investment in Dongzhou, but Mayor Peng gave the award to Robert, the Hong Kong agent. Zhu Dawei has borne a grudge against Vice-Mayor Peng ever since, and his theft of the copy of the Notebook means he now has Mayor Peng by the throat. Not bad, Zhu Dawei! You might know a man's face, but you'll never really know his heart! I had to report this to Mayor Peng immediately and tell him to put the screws to Zhu Wenwu. We need to get that copy back. If it really ends up in Qi Xiuying's hands, Mayor Peng and I will become morsels in her chopsticks!

Deputy Chief of the Anti-Terrorism Unit of the Qingjiang Provincial Public Security Bureau, w.a.n.g Chaoquan I AM LIKE Harry, the protagonist in the American movie True Lies. We both live a world of lies, and outside our organisations no one knows the truth about us, not even our wives. If I hadn't chosen this sacred and secret path, full of hardship, challenge and danger, I'd be a top professor in a university by now, teaching foreign languages. Or if I had gone into politics properly, I wouldn't have stopped at bureau-level researcher, leading even my wife to despise me.

But I am pa.s.sionate about this sacred and secret path, because I am pa.s.sionate about my nation. I have given everything to my work, and my work has made me into a true spy.

The demands of national security mean that Harry had to hide his true ident.i.ty from his wife for many years, maintaining the fiction that he was a regular businessman. Likewise, the demands of national anti-terrorism and anti-drug campaigns have kept me from revealing my true ident.i.ty to my wife, Ou Beibei.

I was chosen by the Anti-Terrorism Unit of the Public Security Bureau while I was still in college. I underwent secret training, and after graduation was sent to work in Qingjiang Province. The nature of my position meant that I did not actually work in the Provincial Anti-Terrorism Unit, but instead was sent to the Foreign Investment Bureau of Dongzhou City, where I was to remain undercover by the side of Director Ning Zhiyuan. My organisation had determined that Ning Zhiyuan was the Dongzhou operative of a certain international terrorist group. His codename was Bald Eagle. The terrorist group relied primarily on drug trafficking to fund its activities. It had established drug smuggling channels and also formed a criminal network in the Dongzhou area that was developing outwards into large cities around the country. My mission was to feel my way out to the rest of the network, beginning with Ning Zhiyuan as the central node. When the time was right, we'd close the net.

Clearly it was a glorious yet also a formidable mission. While I was undergoing training I held to a single precept: absolute loyalty to the nation. I had given up my youth, my knowledge, my pa.s.sion and my family to this one solemn oath, which had become my heart's blood, my faith and my conviction.

People like me need to 'sacrifice the dear, endure the unendurable, accomplish the impossible'. The battle lines of the hidden struggle will never be known, and the struggle is to the death. It demands of me not only a firm political faith, but also special skills and areas of knowledge that ordinary people would find quite surprising. Military science, politics, linguistics, law, psychology, social interaction . . . we must be adept at them all. My particular strengths are infiltration and investigation, including counter infiltration. My own training was focused on domestic investigation, and after years of experience in the hidden struggle, I have become a bright sword and a st.u.r.dy shield in the service of national security. It is my deepest pride.

How I yearn to tell my wife of my accomplishments, and to share with her the pleasures of my many victories! But my oath of absolute loyalty to the nation demands my secrecy and silence and the concealment of my true ident.i.ty, and no matter what painful misunderstandings I might encounter with family and friends, I must accept them all! In my heart I keep a list of the named and nameless heroes who encourage me: Li Kenong, Pan Hannian, Qian Zhuangfei, Hu Beifeng, Xiong Xianghui, Shen Jian, Cheng Zhongjing . . . Their great deeds have mostly gone unknown and unrecognised, vanishing soundlessly into the dark heart of history. When I became a nameless warrior in the hidden struggle, I joined them in that darkness. Fighting on the front lines of national defence, no matter how intense or cruel the struggle, I am doomed to be a nameless hero. When I joined this grand and quotidian path, I knew this in my bones.

It is this that allowed me to laugh off my wife's haughty condemnations, regardless of what discomfort I was feeling, and to play the role of the useless husband. In fact, I'd already explained it to her a thousand times, in my own heart: 'I'm far from useless, Beibei, I'm a real man. If you love me, you should be able to feel the pa.s.sion in me, you should be able to sense my strength, you should be aware of this burning heart that loves you. But you've changed, Beibei, you are no longer the pure and beautiful girl that I first loved. You've become opportunistic and vain. We once swore to live hand in hand, to love each other all our lives, but now your gaze is fixed upon money and power, and the eyes that were once limpid as springs have already lost their glow; they have become unbearably earthly. What temptations have made you forget our love, my dear wife? What devil has blinded your eyes to the sight of your own soul? Turn back, Beibei, the void is before you! You would leap in, leaving your husband behind, but I won't let you. I'll save you. But I cannot, because to save you would be to reveal my ident.i.ty.'

After Beibei and I married, we planned to have a child, but she never got pregnant. When we went to the hospital to get checked, the doctor said the problem lay with me: I have a low sperm count. I took all manner of medicine, none of which was effective. It made me miserable.

I would never have dreamed that my wife could possibly stray from me. They talk about the seven-year itch but I never believed it. I was confident that the foundations of our love were strong. I never thought they might tremble or crack, letting the bitter groundwater seep up to the surface. If I'd known that my marriage would become a pool of stagnant water, I would have chosen to enter my profession as a single man and have become a lifelong monk!

I am not made of iron, however, and when I learned thanks to my special channels that it was Peng Guoliang, standing Vice-Mayor of Dongzhou, who was having his way with Beibei, I could hardly stand it. I wanted nothing more than to kill the sanctimonious b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but I couldn't. My calling demanded I drink that pool of bitter water to the last drop.

On the day Ou Beibei found out she was pregnant, I was promoted to the post of Deputy Chief of the Anti-Terrorism Unit. That day also happened to be my birthday. It should have been a happy day for me. I had planned to celebrate with Beibei under the guise of a birthday party because my superiors had already promised me that once I'd cleared up the gang of international criminals that was threatening the safety of the nation, I would be transferred out of the Foreign Investment Bureau and allowed to work openly as Deputy Chief of the Anti-Terrorism Unit. Then Ou Beibei would finally learn that her husband was an anti-terrorism warrior and an anti-drug hero. I knew she would be proud to have a husband with such thrilling credentials. But it was all ruined by the results of the pregnancy test from the hospital.

I was in agony. I ran blindly for more than two hours through the rainy night, howling like a wolf, but I knew that nothing would ever be the same.

I could not dwell on my personal tragedy, however. The very next day I had to fly to Macau to apprehend Bald Eagle. He had chosen the Casino Lisboa as his meeting place. The noise and chaos provided ideal cover. Because he was number two in the terrorist organisation, as well as an internationally known drug pusher, I guessed that he would have a security network deployed around the casino in case of emergency. I arranged for my own security dragnet. This was my first active mission since becoming Deputy Chief. I was determined the operation would be a success.

Despite my confidence that there would be no slip-ups, however, an unexpected situation did arise. The other drug pushers had shown themselves and entered our surveillance zone, strolling around the gaming tables as though it were a perfectly ordinary visit to the casino. Suddenly, three familiar faces appeared on my monitor. The one in front was wearing a red t-shirt and a gold chain, smoking a gold-tipped cigarette, with a gold bracelet on his wrist. Though he looked nothing more than a two-bit punk, I knew at a glance that he was that lofty, sanctimonious b.a.s.t.a.r.d from Dongzhou who had made me a cuckold. The two behind him were like a pair of clowns: Wen Huajian and Chen Shi. I'd heard the three referred to in Dongzhou political circles as the 'Iron Triangle', three brothers with a common love for gambling. If I hadn't seen the three of them with my own eyes, I would never have dreamed that a personage so grand as the standing Vice-Mayor and Munic.i.p.al Party Committee member of Dongzhou City would so brazenly visit the casinos of Macau in the company of his two underlings. No wonder the Dongzhou business world was abuzz with sightings of the three of them in the casinos of Macau, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Las Vegas.

Once the three had moved into our surveillance zone, they fell in behind the drug pushers, and I knew immediately that our operation would be a failure. 'Bald Eagle', aka Ning Zhiyuan, was office director of the Dongzhou Foreign Investment Bureau, directly under the authority of Peng Guoliang. If he saw his Dongzhou superior wandering openly around the casino, right behind the people he'd come to meet, there was no way he would dare show himself. As a result, Bald Eagle was spooked and didn't appear, and the operation was a failure.

It wasn't a complete write-off, though. I had recorded Peng Guoliang, Wen Huajian and Chen Shi playing dice, losing thousands of dollars without blinking an eye.

After calling off the operation and returning to Dongzhou, I immediately reported to the Provincial Party Committee. Given the gravity of affairs, the Committee pa.s.sed my tapes directly to the Provincial Disciplinary Committee instead of the Dongzhou Munic.i.p.al Disciplinary Committee. Faced with such egregious corruption, I was very aware that Qi Xiuying, Secretary of the Provincial Disciplinary Committee, would never rest until she'd drawn Peng into her net.

When I thought that the criminal ringleader who had mistreated Ou Beibei was about to be swept up by the law, I felt the inexpressible satisfaction of revenge. During training our instructor had often said, 'Our work is of the utmost importance, it is tied to the fate of our nation! When personal feelings come into conflict with the interests of the nation or the country, you must not hesitate in sacrificing your feelings!' But sacrificing your feelings didn't mean forgetting them. The pain Peng Guoliang had caused me was like a knife wound. Even if he were cast into h.e.l.l, it would not lessen my own suffering. But I will never forget that I am an anti-terrorist warrior, and no matter what suffering I feel, I can only gnaw on it in my dreams. For the sake of national security, I need to be at my best while I work!

Number Two Department, Junior Department-Level Researcher, Ou Beibei I NEVER IMAGINED that w.a.n.g Chaoquan might follow me to the hospital, and I was amazed that I hadn't noticed him. I chased after him, wanting to explain, but he was gone. I stood stiffly by the hospital gate, thinking that the other shoe had finally dropped. I signalled tremulously for a taxi, and went to the office to ask Yang Hengda for two weeks' leave. He a.s.sented readily. I gathered up a few things and left.

I went to Peng Guoliang's office and pushed at the door but it was locked. G.o.dd.a.m.n it, with all this going on he was nowhere to be seen. I gave Hu Zhanfa a call and asked him where Peng was. I needed to see him.

Hu Zhanfa said mockingly, 'Who do you think you are, Ou Beibei? You can't just see Mayor Peng whenever you please!'

I checked my rage. 'Hu Zhanfa, you tell Peng Guoliang I'm pregnant!'

Hu Zhanfa burst out laughing and said nastily, 'Zhao Zhong's good deed, I imagine?'

I was furious, and began shouting, 'Hu Zhanfa!' but he hung up.

Instead of going straight home, I wandered the streets, full of fury. I was like a lost sheep, searching everywhere for my fold, and I found myself walking into a Xinhua Bookstore, where there was hardly anyone. I felt confused and numb. It wasn't Peng Guoliang's avoiding me that was difficult, or Hu Zhanfa's insults. What really hurt was that w.a.n.g Chaoquan knew everything. That d.a.m.ned w.a.n.g Chaoquan had actually tailed me like a spy. He'd actually called me 'shameless'.

When Chaoquan had proposed to me he was full of promises about making me the happiest wife on earth.

What bulls.h.i.t!

What wife could be happy when her husband was so lowly? It was men who couldn't fulfil their promises who were really shameless. Now you're upset about being cuckolded. Well I'll tell you: men who work and work with no achievement ought to be cuckolded!

I had meant to become the light of w.a.n.g Chaoquan's life, his fire, but he had never been able to ignite me. So I looked for someone who could, and what I found was that light and fire were both dark things. I kept seeing the image of Peng Guoliang's dashing face, full of power and l.u.s.t, and I came to the painful realisation that once a person was possessed by l.u.s.t, no incantation can exorcise it. I was feeling cold, and the dead atmosphere of the bookstore made it feel like a tomb. It wasn't a tomb I was looking for, but a sheepfold. I went back out onto the street in a huff. The sunlight stabbed down, pa.s.sing through my body like a cold arrow.

It was time to show w.a.n.g Chaoquan my cards, but he wasn't at home, and his mobile phone was off. I waited up all night for him, completely unable to sleep. At dawn it began to rain heavily, and w.a.n.g Chaoquan returned home looking like a drowned rat. I didn't know what he'd done outside all night. Although he would occasionally come home after midnight, since we'd been married he'd never stayed out all night. But I wasn't interested in where he'd been. I laid the divorce papers I'd prepared in front of him and said coldly, 'Sign them!'

Chaoquan glanced over the papers, then said, 'Ou Beibei, you've sunk too deep in your dream. It's time to wake up. Don't think that divorce will solve everything. You should think this over carefully.'

With no hesitation I answered, 'Sign them! I made my decision long ago.'

Without emotion he said, 'You've made your decision, but I haven't made mine. Leave me alone, I've got something pressing to do and I don't have time to waste with you!' He pushed me away and went straight to the desk in the study, pulled out a doc.u.ment folder, put it in his bag and turned to leave.

I blocked his way, shouting, 'w.a.n.g Chaoquan, what right do you have not to sign!?'

He laughed, 'Ou Beibei, your brains have turned to water,' and slammed the door as he went out.

I couldn't hold back any longer and screamed at the top of my lungs, 'Your brains aren't water! They're p.i.s.s! They're s.h.i.t! All men are the pillars of their family! You must be the most useless man in the world! You're barely a man!'

The neighbours must have heard me, but w.a.n.g Chaoquan didn't. He had vanished like a spirit, leaving my heart suffering as though it had been filled with lead, so heavy I could hardly breathe. I resolved to see Peng Guoliang that day, one way or another. I was sure that Hu Zhanfa would have told him about my pregnancy, but still he hadn't called me, and I grew even more distraught. I knew perfectly well that threatening Peng Guoliang was playing with fire and that I'd likely scorch myself, but I had to come out of this with something. I took a moment to calm myself, then took an umbrella and left, heading for the Munic.i.p.al Government building through the rain.

I went straight to Peng Guoliang's office, but the door was still closed tight. I could only retreat to a corner of the corridor and call Hu Zhanfa. He asked me what I wanted. I calmly asked him when Peng Guoliang would be returning. Hu answered that he'd gone to Hong Kong. I knew that Peng Guoliang was avoiding me. I snapped my phone shut. The moment I did, I received a text message, a joke from Hu Zhanfa: 'Miss Radish wanted to lose weight, and dieted until she was skin and bones. Her mother said, "Who will marry you when you're so skinny?" Miss Radish said scornfully, "White Liquor has his eye on me. He wants to pickle me and call me Ginseng."'

I knew Hu Zhanfa was trying to humiliate me, and I was nearly bursting with rage. I wanted to call him back but my phone was nearly out of power. I felt worse and worse. If my husband were a mayor's secretary or even just head of something, if my husband were a boss like Zhao Zhong, or if I myself had some kind of official post, would I have to suffer humiliation from someone as lowly as Hu Zhanfa?

The more I thought, the worse I felt. I went back to Number Two Department in a stew, and picked up the phone to call w.a.n.g Chaoquan. Everyone was in the office, watching me. I swore bitterly at him over the phone, telling him I was divorcing him for sure. Yang Hengda waved everyone out of the office and came over to me, meaning to say something comforting, but clearly didn't know what to say or how to say it and in the end just shook his head and went out. I hurled the phone down in a temper, a sense of deep grievance washing over me. It was the first time in my life I felt I'd been used like a rag. I knew it was over between Peng Guoliang and me, and I would need to get an abortion if I were to keep my job and prevent the situation from worsening. I steeled myself and left.

I hailed a taxi in the rain and went to the hospital, where I endured the suffering of an abortion. Afterwards, instead of going home I went to my mother's house. I turned off my phone and rested there for two weeks, during which time the only two calls that came to the house were from w.a.n.g Chaoquan. My mother picked up both times. The first time he asked how I was recovering, and the second he reported that he had quit his job and was going to work in a company in Shenzhen. He also said that he'd signed the divorce papers. When I heard that, I collapsed into my mother's arms and cried.

After two weeks I returned home. The divorce papers were signed, on the coffee table, and Chaoquan had left me a letter as well. I opened the envelope with shaking hands and pulled out the letter: 'Beibei, you have suffered by marrying me. I have not brought you happiness, so I will give you freedom. But a word of advice, as your elder. We live our life. We don't live our position or our status. There's a film called True Lies, with Schwarzenegger. It's a pretty good movie you should watch it. After you do, I think you'll understand.'

No kidding. Who doesn't know that life is precious? But if you don't have status, if you don't carry weight, if you have no position, then what's the point? Women in particular will never be privileged without status or position. All women want to be women of privilege. Why would I watch True Lies? That line, 'We live our life. We don't live our position or our status', sounds like a true lie to me!

To be honest, w.a.n.g Chaoquan and I hadn't seen a single movie together since we were first married. You can see what a dull life he leads. Marrying him was like a blind woman marrying a blind man. We live in our own worlds. It was fine that we were separating. I'll use it to establish a dictatorship over him. Since love has been twisted out of shape by life, then let us lead twisted lives. A crooked thing only appears straight if you look at it crookedly.

As it turned out, however, even a thing that has burnt itself out may still bear heat, and we'd lived together all those years . . .

I held Chaoquan's letter, tears rolling down my face. At that moment, though w.a.n.g Chaoquan and I were now separated, I felt no sense of freedom.

Why?

Why?

I realised that I needed to end things with Peng Guoliang. If you're going to keep avoiding me, I thought, then I'll have to write you a letter. I decided to do it, and explain exactly what I'd suffered on his account. Whether he responded or not, that would be an end to it.

Ou Beibei might not be a golden phoenix, but you're certainly not the wutong tree on which I'd perch, Peng Guoliang. Henceforth I'll go my way, and you cross your bridge. When I'd finished with the letter I finally felt a little ease. I'd been under so much pressure recently, I could hardly bear it. Perhaps Chaoquan had been right to say after all that without true life, status meant nothing.

Standing Vice-Mayor of Dongzhou, Peng Guoliang WHEN HU ZHANFA told me that the copy of the The Civil Servant's Notebook had been stolen, I could hardly believe my ears. That guy was a little too clever for his own good. I told him countless times that he shouldn't keep a draft or a copy of the notebook, but not only did he keep a draft, he also made a copy! What could he want a copy for, if not to have a weapon in reserve? Even my own personal secretary, who I trained myself, wanted something on me. Could I trust anyone?

Hu Zhanfa wanted me to use Zhu Wenwu to force his son to hand over the ma.n.u.script, but yesterday evening a vice-secretary I know at the Provincial Disciplinary Committee called to say that Qi Xiuying has got her hands on the copy of the Notebook. She's already held a preliminary meeting on the matter with several vice-secretaries and made a report to the Committee. They have decided to take action against me.