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He was furious, but instantly he felt weak. He knew he would not be able to regain Lin's trust.

Lin made no response.

He put his foot on the bicycle-stop in front of a poster freshly pasted up, stood there, and asked, "What else is there? Who's saying this?"

Lin steadied her bicycle and, averting her eyes, looked down to say, "Don't ask, just be aware of it."

The youngsters in front of them collected their buckets of paste and ink, got on their bicycles, and left. The posters they had just written were still dripping with ink.

"So you've been avoiding me because of this?" he asked loudly.

"Of course not." Lin still did not look at him but quiedy added, "It was you who wanted to break off the relationship."

"I miss you, I really miss you!"

He spoke loudly but felt weak and helpless.

"Forget it, it's impossible…" Lin said softly, avoiding his eyes. She turned, pushing her bicycle to go off.

He grabbed the handlebars of her bicycle, but Lin put her head down and said, "Don't be like that, let me go, I'm just telling you that there is a problem with your father's history-"

"Who said this? People in the political section? Or was it Danian?" he kept asking, unable to contain his fury.

Lin straightened up and turned away to look at the cars on the road and the endless stream of bicycles on both sides.

"My father wasn't declared a rightist-" He wanted to argue, but that, too, was something he wanted to forget. He remembered his mother saying that it was all over and in the past. That was when his mother was alive, he was still at university and had gone home for the New Year.

"No, not that problem…" Lin turned her handlebars and put a foot on the pedal.

"Then what problem is it?" He grabbed her handlebars again.

"They say he had hidden a gun…" She bit her lip, got on her bicycle, and pedaled away hard.

There was an explosion in his brain and he seemed to see Lin speed by with tears in her eyes; maybe he was seeing things or maybe he was just feeling sorry for himself. Cycling away with her head wrapped in the scarf, Lin merged with the others on bicycles and, as scraps of paper and dust flew into the air beneath the streetlights, soon it was impossible to make her out. It was probably at that point that he reeled and stumbled against the poster that had just been pasted on the wall, and got ink and paste on his sleeve, and, as a result, he firmly remembered how it was when he and Lin parted.

His mind had seized up and he was in a quandary. He did not get on his bicycle right away because the weight of the words "hidden a gun" had made his head spin. When he came to his senses and thought about the implications of these words, he knew he had no option but to go all the way with rebelling.

Their band of twenty or so charged into the hutong at the side of Zhongnanhai. At the red gate bristling with sentries, they demanded that the senior cadre representing the Party Center come to their workplace both to acknowledge culpability and to exonerate cadres and masses declared anti-Party. When they entered the office, the old revolutionary who held the rank of general before taking command of this important position actually received them, unlike the noncommittal and reticent senior cadres of their workplace who just hid away in their offices. The man had an extraordinary presence, and remained seated, majestic and dignified, on the high-backed leather chair behind the desk in that very spacious office.

"I won't get up to greet you, I've had too many meetings with the masses. When I was taking part in the revolution and mass campaigns, who knows where you lot of youngsters were? Of course, I am not promoting seniority simply because I am much older than all of you." The senior cadre was the first to speak. His voice was loud without being pompous, but his attitude and tone sounded as if he was speaking at a meeting.

"You young people want to rebel, and that's excellent! But I have had a little more experience. I have rebelled and carried out revolution against others, and others have done the same to me, and I have committed errors. Errors in what I said has upset some comrades and made them angry. I have already apologized to my comrades, what else do you want? Are you incapable of committing errors? Are you always correct? I would never dare say that of myself. It is only Chairman Mao who is always correct! And there can be no doubts about that! Who among you is not capable of committing errors? Ha-ha!"

This motley group had been fired with righteous indignation and ready to fight, but now everyone was docile and, in fact, respectfully receiving a reprimand without a sound of protest. He had detected both resentment and a veiled threat in what the old man said; nevertheless, it was his own fault for being the leader of this motley group and he was obliged to go forward. He asked, "Are you aware that following your order to collect reports, that very night every single person was interrogated? Over a hundred people were branded anti-Party and many more now have records in their files. Would it be possible for you to direct the Party committee to declare a reversal of those cases and to have those records destroyed in public?"

"People have their own jobs to look after, your Party committee's problems are its own. Don't the masses also have problems? I can't say for sure what your Party committee will do, but I have spoken to them about it. I have already retracted what I said, the very words I myself had spoken!"

The senior cadre was getting bored and had risen to his feet.

"Then would it be possible for you to say all this again when you make your report at another such meeting?" He couldn't back down now.

"That would have to be approved by the Party Center. You see, I work for the Party and have to observe Party discipline. I am not free to say anything I like."

"In that case, who approved your speech ordering the collection of reports?"

This was prohibited territory, and he was aware of the weight of his words. The senior cadre fixed his eyes upon him, his eyebrows thick and graying, and said coldly, "I am responsible for whatever I say. Chairman Mao is still using me; I have not been dismissed! Of course, I am personally responsible for whatever I say!"

"Then may we quote what you said on a poster so that everyone can read it? We have been delegated by the masses and this would help when we report back."

Having said this, he looked at the masses by his side, but none of them had anything to say. The senior cadre was staring at him. He knew that this was a power struggle between unequal parties, but there was no way out for him, so he said, "We will write up what you said, then invite you to check if it is all right."

"Young man, I admire your courage!"

The senior cadre remained dignified. Having said this, he turned, opened a door behind his desk, and went out. The door, which earlier had not even been noticed, immediately shut; all that remained was the leather swivel chair and the motley crowd looking vacantly at him. However, that menacing and scornful sentence lingered in his mind.

The paunchy Party secretary stood up to make his report at the meeting. He was mumbling and no longer held his back straight or his head high, as he did a few months ago sitting alongside the senior cadre of the Party Center. Instead, he was wearing reading glasses and held his notes in both hands farther away than the microphone as he read out a word at a time. He was struggling to make out the words: "I now understand that I had misinterpreted… the spirit of the Party Center. I gave… wrong instructions. I harmed… the revolutionary fervor of comrades and hereby earnestly-" At this point, Comrade Wu Tao paused, then raised his voice to continue, "Very earnestly apologize to all comrades present-"