Bin was somehow possessed by a kind of mysterious joy after the noon break. A man of merit never lacks friends, he thought. Yen is a good brother of mine, a true man with a kind heart. That’s why his painting and calligraphy have developed so much; he’s beginning to have his own style. Bin had in mind the golden characters Yen had inscribed on the propaganda board: “We Resolutely Oppose Capitalist Deviations!”
For some reason two lines of Tang farewell poetry went on ringing in his ears:
Do not worry about having no friend on the road; Under heaven who has not heard of your name?
In the outhouse near the garage, he even chanted out the lines three times while urinating into a long cement trough constructed as a urinal. A woman tittered beyond the brick wall, from the female side of the outhouse. The tittering sobered him up, since he didn’t want the name of a latrine poet.
At two-fifty he set out for the secretary’s office, after informing Hsiao that the leaders wanted to meet with him. When he arrived at the office, both Liu and Ma were in there, smoking and laughing, talking with Nina. The ceiling fan was revolving briskly; beneath it a few house-flies were droning. On the desk a bunch of daylilies stood in a beer bottle; the room smelled grassy. At the sight of Bin, they stopped laughing and regained their normal appearance. Nina got up and walked to the door with her ponytail whisking slightly on her back. Passing Bin, she gave him a sullen look.
“Sit down, young Shao,” Liu said, patting a chair.
“Have some tea,” Ma said amiably, and pointed to a green porcelain cup with a lid on it.
Bin sat down and thanked them. He lifted the cup, took off the lid, blew away the floating tea leaves, and took a sip. His mouth couldn’t help smiling, revealing his uneven teeth.
“Comrade Shao Bin,” Liu said, “we’re going to inform you of something.”
Bin nodded expectantly.
“Your friend Yen Fu is a good talker,” Liu resumed. “He has convinced us that you are a budding genius. You know our plant is not a large unit. Only three hundred people here, it’s too small a pond for a large turtle like you, so we hope you’ll transfer to another place that can offer you a suitable job. We won’t keep you here and let you miss the opportunity to develop your talent. You see, we are always concerned with our young people’s growth.”
“Yes, when you find a new place that’s willing to accept you, we’ll let you go,” Ma added with a sneer.
Bin remained wordless, never having thought they would get rid of him like this. So they have me here only to give me a hard time and make me miserable, he reasoned. Damn you, idiots. You two did your calculation on a wrong abacus. I’m not leftovers that nobody will touch.
As the leaders were smirking and observing his confused face, Bin stood up and said stridently, “All right, I shall try.”
“You know,” Liu said, “your problem is that you always believe you know exactly how high the sky is and how deep the sea is. You’re a smart jackass.”
“That’s true,” Ma put in. “You overestimate yourself all the time.”
Without responding, Bin turned to the door and walked out with his back and neck straight. However, the moment he was out of the office, he felt giddy, overwhelmed by hatred and confusion. He had to hold the iron handrail to descend the stairs.
Yen visited Bin in the evening. When Bin told him what had happened in the office, Yen was outraged. The leaders’ breach of promise verified Bin’s account of their evil nature and deeds. They would lie to your face. This time they had tricked not only Bin but also Yen himself, to whom Liu and Ma had given their word that they would improve Bin’s standing in the plant and utilize his learning and talent. Now, they were trying to drive him out. What a bunch of hoodlums. How could any decent human being work and live under their leadership? No wonder Bin had a hellish time here.
After cursing the leaders together for half an hour, they began talking about the matter of a job transfer. What had seemed disastrous at first didn’t look so bad after careful consideration. It was too exhausting to stay in this mad water and fight against those unscrupulous men, with too much of Bin’s energy and time being dissipated. As an artist, he needed peace of mind for artistic creation and development, and needed concentration, especially in his formative years. Everybody knows tranquillity is the soil in which talent grows. But in a place like this, with one trick after another, nobody could live artistically; and just one unhappy incident would ruin a few days, during which any real work was impossible. Bin ought to find a more nurturing place.
Yen was almost certain some work units would take a man of Bin’s ability. He promised that he would help him look for a job in the county town.
When Yen was leaving, it was already past eleven; both Shanshan and Meilan had fallen asleep in the bed. Bin walked Yen all the way to East Wind Inn opposite the train station. The air was full of the fragrance of pagoda-tree blossoms, which were shimmering like snow in the moonshine. Somehow even the pulverizer, which always rumbled in the distance at the fertilizer plant, became silent tonight. The railroad track, lit by a string of lights, curved gradually and disappeared into the dark mountain. The town was asleep and peaceful.
Yen inhaled the intense air and said, “What a beautiful night! Nature is so good.”
“Only man is not,” added Bin.
They both laughed. Their laughter was free and gusty in the quiet night.
Bin said, “God, I haven’t laughed like this for a long time.”
At the entrance to the inn, an old drunk, a crippled peasant, stopped them and begged for money. Yen gave him a five-fen coin, waving him away. The two friends then said good-bye.
From the next night on, Bin began to write letters to editors and art cadres who he thought might be interested in hiring him. To be sure, he used a good brush, the new one with sturdy marten’s hair, and made every word look handsome and masculine, every line straight and well measured, and every page evenly distributed with lovely characters. He informed the recipients that he had an urban residence card, which allowed him to live in any city, and that he didn’t expect to have housing and a high salary. His family could stay in Dismount Fort for the time being, and once he settled in the new place, he would try to find housing for them by himself.
He understood he had to make his way step by step. It would be foolish to appear too expensive in the beginning.
Seven
BECAUSE OF HIS BAD MOOD, Bin couldn’t paint or practice calligraphy for two weeks. His brushes seemed to have lost their vigor, drooping in the pot cut from a tin can. The need to find a new work unit grew more and more urgent, and the anxiety became insupportable. Meilan often felt her husband was as tense as a clock wound up every hour.
Whenever Bin ran into Liu or Ma, they would ask him whether he had found a place yet; with false smiles they would advise him to be flexible, not to demand too much. At a meeting they even announced to the plant that Bin was going to leave of his own choice, which they fully supported.
One day in early May, Bin received a letter from Gold County’s Cultural Center, which notified him that they would like to “borrow” him from the plant for a year, and they might keep him if everything worked out properly. He would be given an office and a small fund for stationery. The letter also said the center had already written to the Harvest Fertilizer Plant for his file.
Having read the letter three times, Bin felt his blood circulating again. He had been afraid that the frustration and depression might turn him into a true misanthrope, really worthy of the nickname Man Hater. Now, he realized there were still decent human beings on the earth, and by nature not all men were bad.