the fresh breeze. F, sitting next to me, was as if in trance. He said nothing, and showed not the slightest emotion. I knew he must have been full of thoughts, so I started to talk, in an attempt to drag him from his reverie. I said, ‘This road is beautiful in the summer. It’s green, dark green, with white poplars and willows on either side.’ As we passed through Shahe, I showed him the restaurant and said, ‘I ate here twice.’ He mumbled a reply. Not until we entered the city, with its broad bustling streets and ceaseless flow of vehicles, was his attention finally caught.
‘Why are there so many people in Beijing, how come it’s so lively?’
We arrived home. I helped him from the car and was about to fetch the case, but I was told to enter the house. Carrying a bundle of books in one hand and supporting him with the other, I went to the front door. Neighbours peered from their windows.
We entered the living room, just the two of us. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. My nose began to tingle. Stifling the tears, I helped him out of his overcoat. It was hot indoors, so he asked me to help him remove his woollen suit. Only then, doing things like that, which I’d not been able to do for a decade, did I really feel my beloved had returned.
The driver and Comrade Huang helped bring in the suitcase. I was about to make some tea when the Director said, ‘No need, you must take it easy. We’ll come in the afternoon.’
They left through the back door.
I lived in a three-room ground-floor flat. Normally I was there by myself during the day. I showed F the house. He spent a long time looking round his son’s room, flicking through his books. When he had left, his son had been in the first class of primary school, and now he was reading all these books. He would no longer be pestering dad for children’s books.
I sat him down in the living room on the swivel chair. He had bought the chair second-hand. I showed him some letters from friends. Then I went into the kitchen to make him his first meal since arriving home.
I had got the food ready in advance. I had bought him a bottle of bamboo-leaf wine, his favourite, but I didn’t dare give it him yet, because the Director was returning. I watched happily as he took big mouthfuls of food. It felt like we had regressed ten years. In those days, whenever he came home from his travels, even if only after a few months, I had felt the same joy when we sat down together to eat. He used to say he often ate banquets when he was away from home, but it never tasted as good as my vegetables and beancurd.
I let him go for a nap. I told him, ‘I have to go out. I’ll lock the door from the outside. If anyone knocks, don’t open it.’ I added, ‘I want to buy you a toothbrush. Also some nice tea, so if anyone comes, we’ve got something other than boiled water to offer. And some cigarettes.’
He told me he hadn’t smoked for ten years and had given up, that was his reunion gift to me.
I went to buy the toothbrush and some other things, and I also bought him a razor. When I got home, he was sleeping. I was afraid they would soon turn up, so I woke him. Just at that moment, there was a knock at the back door.
The first thing the Director said on entering, with a big smile on his face, was ‘Why did you lock him in? And such a useless lock!’
How did he know the lock was useless, and that you could open it without a key?
He said, ‘It doesn’t matter, if there’s a crime, we can easily solve it. But don’t use that sort of lock, don’t cause us unnecessary trouble.’
F was baffled and I was ill at ease, so I left to make tea. I thought it best to leave them to chat with him.
Comrade Huang took out a list of five or six rules. The gist was that he shouldn’t talk with strangers or meet foreigners, go out by himself, or leave the neighbourhood.
Director Wu added, ‘This is for your safety, you must cooperate. I’ll introduce you to two comrades who are coming to help you. If you need anything, ask them.’
All I could do was nod earnestly, to show I supported the measures they proposed.
Comrade Huang went onto the balcony and shouted across at two men, who then entered the building. The thin tall one was Old Chen and the short sturdy one was Little Zhang. He introduced Hu Feng to them, as Old Zhang.
Liu from the police station also turned up, and shook hands with Hu Feng. Then, the two other comrades went to find accommodation.
Hu Feng had spent ten and a half years in prison. Director Wu formally announced he was being allowed to serve his sentence outside prison as an act of leniency, but his movements would be controlled by the public security organs.
Director Wu and the others left. One thing worried me: how F would deal with meeting his younger son. He was applying to join the Young Communist League, and had been asked repeatedly to draw a clear class line with his father.
I heard him pushing his bike up the steps. His father opened the door. Our son looked awkward, and went into his room.
I said, ‘You recognised him?’
‘He’s become a young man. I couldn’t resist kissing him on the forehead. I can’t stop seeing him as a child.’
The child reappeared and called out to his father, ‘I hope you’re all right. I’ve made you a cup of tea.’
I cheered up. I still had a close and harmonious family.
When the two of us retreated to what was now our bedroom, I felt a bit at a loss. He was no longer the same man. In some ways, he had become a stranger. More than once he said, ‘I’ve let you down, I’ve harmed you, I’ve treated no one else as badly as I’ve treated you, I can never repay my debt to you. I ruined the second half of my life, but I also ruined yours, I dragged my whole family into it.’
He put his head on my shoulder and wept.
‘Don’t say any more, I know all that, I’m never going to blame you.’ I lifted his big, heavy head and wiped away the tears.
He pulled me to the bedside and held my hand tight.
‘You can forgive me, but I can’t forgive myself. Whenever I thought of you and the children, I suffered agonising pain. I also felt guilty about the friends I implicated, but they had their own ideas and ideals. But in your case, you were innocent. What I most fear is that they will drag you out and expose you to the masses.’
‘Yes, I’ve also feared that.’
‘When I think of the friends I implicated, how they were locked up all those years, how they had to bear witness against me to my face to gain their freedom, I feel anguish. I haven’t seen them for ten years. They must have gone grey. Some have started wearing glasses, some have become fat and can no longer button up their clothes. A flogging by the masses would be easier to accept. How could I know it would continue for more than a decade, that they too would waste their finest years? They were so talented. I would rather go to the gallows than see them wrongly punished. But did I have a choice? It was like a drama, with me as the tragedian. I hope they can put their sufferings behind them.
