Someone also asked, “I hear that whenever we want to eat something, the county will issue it to us?”
“Is it true that every family will be given a new house?”
Someone asked worriedly, “But then won’t people become lazier and lazier?”
“Perhaps our children won’t even want to study?”
This was all real, Chief Liu realized, as everyone swarmed in front of him. Under the sun, there was the rancid odor of people’s sweat, the smell of sweltering dust, and an oily stench of the hats the peasants had been wearing for many years without ever washing them, together with the scent of cotton from the city-dwellers’ new coats and scarves. Standing in the middle of this crowd, Chief Liu was jostled back and forth. He shook one person’s hand, and answered another person’s questions.
This true livening was as real as the warmth you feel when you put on clothes, or the pain you feel when you bleed. One group of people after another kept surging toward Chief Liu to bow and kowtow to him, and to express their gratitude. As soon as one group receded, another would take its place.
The sun was directly overhead, with warm air blowing through the streets. People’s heads were as densely arrayed as a field of melons. Some of the men were wearing padded hats, while others were wearing single-layer ones, or even going bareheaded all winter. The result was a colorful assortment of black, blue, and gray heads. Most of the women, on the other hand, were wearing scarves. The city women were wearing long red, yellow, green, or blue wool scarves, and they would each pick their favorite color depending on their age and fondness.1 When it was cold they would wrap their scarves around their heads, and when it was warmer they would pull them down to their necks, or would drape them over their shoulders, using them merely as an accessory. Some of the young rural women pursued this urban fashion, wearing long knitted scarves, but most of them remained fond of the traditional square scarves people had always worn in the country side, particularly cheap ones they had bought on sale. Although this was discounted merchandise, the colors were still bright red and green, filling the entire street with color. Regardless of whether people were bowing or kowtowing, the entire world became filled with dancing colors.
The entire world was greeting Chief Liu.
The entire world was crowding forward.
Chief Liu experienced an intense feeling of happiness. He’d thought that this sort of scene would be possible only after the Lenin Mausoleum had been established and Lenin’s corpse had been brought back and installed, or once the county became so rich that it would seem as though money were growing on trees, and the residents of every town and village would no longer need to work the land to be able to have whatever they wanted, and would instead be able to simply go to the public center to get it.
But now, here was this scene suddenly appearing before him. He saw that there were many peasants carrying the red paper, firecrackers, and stove god portraits they had prepared for New Year’s. He saw that there were oil paintings wrapped around many of the stove god portraits, and he instantly recognized that those outer paintings were in fact two-by-three-foot portraits of himself that people had purchased on the street, and that it seemed as though there was a red halo surrounding them. Having already noticed the portrait’s red frame and determining that this was his portrait, Chief Liu attempted to ask one person whether red paper and firecrackers were expensive this year. The person replied that the prices were not too bad, and added that the places selling Chairman Liu’s portrait also sold red paper and firecrackers for half as much as other places.
Chief Liu said, “It’s not a good idea to buy my portrait to hang on your wall, and you would be better off buying pictures of the elderly or of the demon chaser Zhong Kui.”
The person replied, “We’ve been hanging pictures of the elderly and Zhong Kui at home for several generations, but they never granted us a good life. Only you, Chief Liu, have made it such that our good life is just around the corner.”
Hearing this, Chief Liu felt a warm, livening glow surge from the center of his being. He was grateful for Secretary Shi’s preparations and felt that, after so many heartbreaking calamities, to have these thousands of people bowing and kowtowing to him was enough. He knew he should be content. And it was worth it. A red blush covered his face as he slowly walked out of the crowd and toward the front of the street. When he was almost at the county government and committee building, he suddenly felt that this stretch of road was actually very short. He regretted having walked so quickly, and that he hadn’t extended this road to make it eight to ten li long, like Beijing’s Chang’an Avenue.
Fortunately, however, in front of the county government and committee building there wasn’t a square but rather a wide street. People were already standing there in a dense crowd, all reverentially holding portraits of Chief Liu rolled up and tied with red string — as though they were bundles of incense sticks. It was as if they were gathered there awaiting his arrival. They were standing on their tiptoes, their heads craned and their gazes fixed intently on him, as though they had been waiting for him for a hundred, or even a thousand, years. Now that he was finally there, they all looked grateful and livened, happy and blissful. They waited for him to approach, and when he arrived at the gate to the county committee and government building, several dozen fifty-something-year-old people from the city and the countryside suddenly bowed down to him in the middle of the street, kowtowing to him in unison, and shouting the same phrases:
“Thank you, Chief Liu! Thank you for granting us this heavenly fortune.. .”
“May Chief Liu enjoy long life, may he live for a hundred, or even a thousand, years.. .”
“Chief Liu, the people of Shuanghuai all kowtow to you in gratitude.. .”
The people shouted these greetings loudly and in unison. Suddenly, the thousands of people assembled there all kowtowed together, as if on command. All of the heads, be they black or colorful, bent down like grain blown by the wind. Everyone lifted their heads, and then bowed them again. The entire world became silent during this process, so much so that the sound of people breathing was louder than the wind. Much louder, and as solemn as when, in the past, the emperor would visit Shuanghuai and stand in front of the county’s tens of thousands of residents. The sky was clear, the sun was blazing, and people could even hear the sound of clouds moving across the sky.
At this point, Chief Liu heard the sound of someone’s forehead striking the asphalt, like a wooden mallet striking the surface of a drum, and tears immediately began streaming from his eyes. He wanted to go over and lift up several of the old people in the front of the crowd, but at the same time he wanted them to finish their three resounding kowtows, to let them finish expressing their gratitude. He knew that whenever people kowtowed, they did so three times, and that only then could they be said to have successfully completed the ritual.
As he was hesitating, and as the thousands of residents were all kowtowing to him, Chief Liu glimpsed over the bowed heads of the populace the county cadres standing in the doorway of the government building. There was also the deputy county chief, who had been responsible for going to purchase Lenin’s corpse but had returned empty-handed, together with Secretary Shi, who had worked with Chief Liu for many years but who the previous night had accompanied Chief Liu’s wife back to her and Chief Liu’s house.