“Baosheng,” Qiqi interrupted again. “I stopped by your home. Your mother asked me to come and talk to you.”
A bucket of cold water had been poured onto the fire in me. “Oh,” I said, and nothing more.
“Your mother is really worried about you…” Qiqi’s voice was gentle. “It’s almost time for you to receive your post-graduation job assignment. You know how important that is. Stop messing around with these people. Come home with me.”
“Qiqi, how can you say such a thing?” I was disappointed as well as angry. “‘Messing around’? Look at the tens of thousands of students assembled in this square! Look at the millions of citizens beyond them! All of Beijing—no, all of China—has boiled over. Everyone is fighting for the future of our country. How can we go back to studying in a classroom?”
“What can you possibly accomplish? You’ll never overcome the government. They have the army! Also, some of your proposals are too radical; they’re impossible—”
“What do you mean, impossible?” I was very unhappy with her. “The army serves the people. The soldiers will never point their guns at us. Some of the students are talking to them already. Don’t worry. I’ve heard that the bureaucrats in the central leadership are terrified. They’ll soon be willing to compromise.”
Qiqi sighed and sat down, looking miserably at me.
We talked and talked, but there was no resolution. In the end, I refused to leave the square, and Qiqi stayed with me. That night, we slept in the same tent. We talked about the national and international situation and the movement’s prospects, but we couldn’t agree on anything and started to argue. Eventually, we stopped talking about these matters and simply held each other.
We reminisced about our childhood together, and then I could no longer hold back. I kissed her, first her face, then her lips. That was the first time we really kissed. Her lips were soft and chapped, which broke my heart. I kissed her deeply and would not let go….
In the dark, it happened naturally. With so many young people in the square, our lovemaking was an open secret. Normally I despised such behavior, and felt that couples who engaged in it tarnished the sacred nature of our protest. But now that it was happening to me, I couldn’t resist, and felt our actions were a natural part of the movement itself. Maybe some nameless anxiety about the future also made us want to seize this last moment of total freedom. Every motion, every gesture was infused with awkwardness and embarrassment. We were clumsy and raw, but passion, the irresistible power of youthful passion, eventually brought that fumbling, ridiculous process to a conclusion of sweet intimacy that surpassed understanding.
The next day, we heard the news that troops had arrived just outside Beijing to enforce martial law. A vanguard had already entered the city, preparing to clear the square.
Should we retreat? The command center held a meeting and opinions were divided. Liu Xiaobo advocated retreat to prevent the loss of lives. Due to Qiqi’s influence, I also supported Liu’s suggestion. But the commander in chief, Chai Ling, was indignant and refused to budge. She even called us cowards and said that we must resist to the utmost, even with our lives. Her words inspired all the other attendees, and those advocating retreat were silenced. In the end, most of the students stayed to follow Chai Ling’s orders.
That night was especially hot. Qiqi and I couldn’t fall asleep, and so we lay outside the tent, whispering to each other. “You were right,” I said. “Chai Ling is too stubborn. I don’t think any good will come of this. I’ll tell Liu Xiaobo tomorrow that we’re going home.”
“All right.” She leaned her head against my shoulder and fell asleep. I followed soon after.
I startled awake with the noise of the crowd all around me. The stars in the summer sky overhead were eerily bright. It took me a moment to realize that all the lamps on the square were extinguished and darkness engulfed us, which was why the stars shined so bright and clear. People were shouting all around us and loudspeakers squawked. I couldn’t understand what was going on.
“Baosheng!” Someone ran at us with a flashlight, and the glare made me squint. A blurry figure came closer: Shen Qian. She was sobbing as she said, “Hurry! You have to leave! The army is clearing the square.”
“What? Where’s Chai Ling? She’s supposed to be in charge!”
“That bitch was the first to run away! Go, go! I still have to find Liu Xiaobo.”
Later, I found out that a large number of armed police had come into the square with batons to break down the tents, beating any students who resisted. But we couldn’t see anything at the time, and everything around us was utter chaos. I didn’t know what to do, so I grabbed Qiqi by the hand and tried to follow the flow of the crowd.
A few students from the provinces ran past us, screaming, “Tanks! Tanks! Someone got crushed by the tanks!” They collided into us and separated Qiqi from me.
I heard Qiqi calling my name and ran toward her, shouting her name. But I tripped over a tent and couldn’t get up for some seconds while others ran over me, kicking me back down. By the time I finally struggled up, I could no longer hear Qiqi and didn’t know where she was. Helpless, I tried to continue in the same direction I’d been headed. A chaotic crowd surrounded me, but there was no Qiqi. I screamed her name. Then someone started singing “The Internationale” and everyone joined in. I couldn’t even hear my own voice.
Caught up in the tumultuous crowd, I left Tiananmen Square.
In this manner, we were forcefully removed from the square—at least no shots were fired. However, elsewhere in the city, there were more violent encounters between the army and the protestors, and gunshots were heard from time to time. I returned home, hoping against hope, but Qiqi had not been there. Ignoring the objections of my parents, I ran back toward the city center.
By then it was dawn, and scattered tanks and soldiers could be seen in the streets. Bloody corpses lined the roads, many of them young students. I felt as though I was in the middle of a battlefield, and terror seized me. But the idea that something had happened to Qiqi terrified me even more. Like a crazy man, I looked everywhere for her.
At noon, I ran into one of my friends from the command center. He brought me to a secret gathering, where I found Shen Qian and Liu Xiaobo. Many were wounded, and Shen Qian, her face drained of blood, shivered as Liu held her. I asked them if they had seen Qiqi.
Shen Qian started to sob. My heart sank into an icy abyss.
Tearfully, Shen Qian explained that Qiqi had found them as the square was being cleared, and they retreated together. They encountered a column of soldiers at an intersection, and not fully understanding the situation, they denounced the soldiers. The soldiers responded by firing upon them, and a few of the students fell. They turned to run again, only realizing after a while that Qiqi was no longer with them. Shen retraced their steps and found Qiqi lying in a pool of blood, not moving. They had wanted to save Qiqi, but the soldiers were chasing them and they had no choice but to keep running.
She was sobbing so hard by now that she could no longer speak.
I demanded that Shen Qian tell me the exact location and then dashed madly toward the address. At the intersection, I saw the smoking, burnt remnant of an army truck. Inside was the charred corpse of a soldier. In a pool of blood next to the intersection lay a few more bodies, but I didn’t see Qiqi. Forcing down my nausea, I searched all around, though I was hoping to find nothing.