we could talk uninhibitedly.
I told her everything, especially today’s sudden change. I also told her about my misfortune and misgivings. She was surprised, but she was more experienced than I was, and she said, ‘That’s not important, it’s a formality. We’ve all worn hats and then had them taken off. It will probably soon be over.’
‘I hope so.’
‘Two years ago I heard someone in the Political Consultative Conference say Hu might be released, he would have to make a self-criticism before a mass meeting and admit his guilt and it would all be over, but then we heard nothing more. I suppose you’ve heard about the criticism of Hai Rui Dismissed from Office? All it needs is one article by that scoundrel Yao Wenyuan for a distinguished writer like Wu Han* to end up in trouble.’
It was getting late. I wanted her to stay, but I couldn’t bring myself to say so. I said, ‘I suppose you ought to go?’
‘No, not this time. I’ll stay if I’m welcome.’
We laughed.
‘Do you need to ask? It’s what I’ve been longing for. But won’t your family worry?’
‘I often stay at friends’ houses. I told Old Nie I was coming to see you, he knows where I am.’
We talked all the way from the living room to the bedroom, and continued talking even after lying down. We were two old women, chattering endlessly about things that had happened in the previous 30 years. I had never talked at length with anyone for ten years, especially not about my innermost thoughts and feelings. I talked with her about things I hadn’t mentioned even to my children. In the past, I had known little about her other than what I heard from F. She knew even less about me. That day, I bared all my thoughts to her, all my pain and weakness. I would never again hide away in an impenetrable shell.
When we got up the next morning, we felt relaxed and happy. She went with me to buy some food. I intended to make dumplings, but when she rang home it turned out someone was waiting for her, so she left without eating lunch.
It was not hard to guess that the person waiting for her was probably someone like me hoping for help. She was a warm-hearted woman who would never turn anyone down. One thing she said really touched me. A woman who had got divorced was branded a ‘rightist’ on account of her famous husband and had suffered greatly. Her neighbours had started bullying her, and she no longer wanted to live. When Ying heard about it, she volunteered to visit her every day. This woman had graduated from an elite Christian college and studied in America. How could she grasp this sacrifice by Ying, a country girl? At night, she let Ying sleep on some planks, while she slept on an iron bed. The story upset me, but Ying said, ‘Well, that’s her background. What a tragic life!’
Ying had travelled extensively in China. She had once been a famous militant, but now she was an ordinary cadre, capable and homespun. Ten years before, F had said she was a great woman who had developed into a good writer. If she had really wanted, she could have become an influential politician. But she had never given up her integrity or her honest peasant woman’s heart. Nor had she allowed herself to be defeated by reverses. She continued to sympathise with people whose suffering exceeded hers. She took pleasure in helping, to the point of selflessness.
She left me a telephone number, told me not to worry, and wished me strength.
* Yao Wenyuan was a Chinese literary critic and member of the Gang of Four in China’s Cultural Revolution; Wu Han was a historian and leader of the Democratic League, a non-aligned Third Force in China. In 1965, at the start of the Cultural Revolution, he was denounced for his drama about an upright Ming dynasty official. He died in prison in 1969.
I went to attend the study class. The police chief led it personally. He explained the policy, made some encouraging remarks, and then asked everyone for their thoughts. There were six of us, ranging from a young woman in her twenties, nursing a baby, to people in their sixties.
The first to speak was a 50- or 60-year-old man in a neat suit. He had studied at the middle school attached to Nanjing’s Southeast University and at Beijing University’s law school (a wonderful CV), and had then gone to work in the Beijing court. He had been allowed to stay on after Liberation. However, he came under criticism during the Anti-Rightist Movement because of some things he had done after Liberation, so he was branded a rightist. Then they checked his record and discovered that he had once convicted an underground Party member, so he was classed as an enemy official and an historical counter-revolutionary. He said, ‘I’ve been treated with such magnanimity! They didn’t force me to undergo reform through labour. After Liberation, I got an award for studying the Chairman’s On Practice. In future, I’ll study even harder and strengthen my ideological reform, so that I earn even greater leniency.’
A middle-aged man with a fat face, short-sighted and with gravy stains on his jacket, jumped up to get in before anyone else. He had been an economic spy, and had a counter-revolutionary hat. ‘In the past,’ he said, ‘under the enemy and puppet regimes, I provided the press with economic intelligence. Later, I was registered as someone to be kept on after Liberation. I did some work and thought it would be classed as meritorious, so I started to get self-important. During the campaign to eliminate counter-revolutionaries I was eliminated. Only then did I realise I had committed crimes against the people. The Government treated me leniently. I wasn’t sentenced, although I was put under neighbourhood supervision. Now, the three of us live off my wife’s wages. My vision is 0.3. I can’t even help around the house without making mistakes. I am a good-for-nothing!’ He was on the verge of tears.
The one that interested me most was the young mother with the baby. She got up to speak. She had studied at the Aviation School and been retained after graduating. She had a good class background* and was assigned to the security department. Unfortunately for her, some students used her room as a meeting place, and she thought what they were saying was right. She didn’t report them to higher levels and even joined them. When they were arrested, she lost her job and acquired a counter- revolutionary hat. Luckily, her boyfriend stood by her. She got married, and now she was a mother and housewife. She no longer concerned herself with anything. However, for the child’s sake she hoped to gain the Government’s leniency and have her hat removed.
The rest of us, myself, two other old ladies and one old gentleman, didn’t speak.
The police chief again tried to inspire us to say something: ‘Young X’s family background was good and she had a good job, but she went with bad people because her standpoint was not firm. But as long as she admits her mistake, we’ll help her, we’ll even welcome her back into the ranks of the people. Don’t be afraid, don’t have misgivings.’
I thought, is it me he’s trying to encourage? I stood up and identified myself. ‘Some of the things we did, especially the 300,000-word memo, were a great crime. We didn’t properly estimate our abilities, we thought it was a question of literary ideology. In future, I’ll definitely strengthen my ideological reform and strive to get my counter-revolutionary hat removed.’
I thought I had made a mess of it, I had stammered my way through my little speech. The listeners, all educated people, were amazed, and looked askance at me. My heart beat like a drum. Would I be brought before the masses?
But the police chief seemed satisfied. ‘Everyone’s spoken very well. I want to meet
