"Amen!" the hall cried.
Nan hadn't lowered his head during the benediction, because at the mention of the pastor's name, he had realized that the man was an exiled dissident who had once been a preeminent journalist in China, famous for his reportage that exposed official corruption and power abuse. Each year photographs of this man would appear a few times in Chinese-language newspapers and magazines, and there was a famous saying attributed to him: "We have gained the freedom of the sky but lost the gravity of the earth," which described the existential condition of the Chinese exiles living in North America. No wonder his face looked so familiar. After the benediction, instead of filing out with others, Nan went up to the pastor and introduced himself as a local businessman. He told Mr. Bian that he admired his articles and was happy to meet him in person. He handed him his card and said, "Please stop by at my restaurant whenever you like. Your friends are welcome too."
Mr. Bian glanced at the card. " Nan Wu, I know of you," he said in surprise. "I liked the poems you published in New Lines, especially the one called 'This Is Just Another Day.' Are you still editing the magazine?"
"No, I'm a chef now."
"That's good. I too have put my feet on the ground finally, working to earn my keep. By the way, you know Mr. Manping Liu, don't you?"
"Of course, I visited him in New York."
"He's going to speak here next Tuesday evening."
"Really? On what?"
"On the relationship between Taiwan and mainland China. I hope you can join us. He'll be delighted to see you."
Then Mr. Bian went on to tell Nan that the talk would be given at the public library in Alpharetta, an affluent town full of brick mansions, about ten miles northwest of Lilburn. Nan promised to attend the meeting.
22
NAN was excited, not having seen Mr. Liu for almost three years. At work that day he even called him in New York and invited him to stay at his home. The old man was pleased, but said his friends in Atlanta had already made arrangements for his lodging and board. He sounded glad to hear from Nan, saying he looked forward to seeing him on Tuesday evening. Nan promised to attend his talk, though he hadn't mentioned it to Pingping yet.
When he brought it up, Pingping was reluctant to let him go, but later Nan persuaded her. On Tuesday evening, after eight-thirty, when the busiest time had passed at the Gold Wok, he arrived at the library, where the talk was already under way. He took a seat in the back corner. Mr. Liu had aged considerably, his mouth more sunken, but his voice was still metallic and ardent. He was speaking about the necessity for Taiwan to be reunified with mainland China, because if it went independent, China would lose its gateway to the Pacific Ocean, and Japan, in addition to the United States, would control the China Sea entirely. Nan was amazed that Mr. Liu's view dovetailed with the Chinese government's. It was as if all the years' exile hadn't changed the old man's mind-set one bit.
After the talk, the audience raised questions for the speaker, and some of them also stood up to add their opinions to Mr. Liu's answers. A young man who must have come from Taiwan asked, "Mr. Liu, you're one of the foremost figures in the Chinese democracy movement and may hold an important office in the Chinese government someday. If you become China 's president, what will you do if Taiwan declares independence?"
Mr. Liu remained silent for a moment, then replied, "First of all, I can never become a national leader. But if I were the president, I might have to order the People's Liberation Army to attack Taiwan. There isn't another way out of this. China must protect its territorial integrity. Whoever loses Taiwan will be recorded by history as a criminal of the Chinese nation."
Some people applauded. Liu's words surprised Nan, who raised his hand and was allowed to speak. With his legs shaking, Nan said in a calm voice, "Mr. Liu, I can see the political logic of your argument. But if we look at this issue in a different light, that is, from the viewpoint of humanity, we may reach another conclusion. For the individual human being, what is a country? It's just an idea that binds people together emotionally. But if the country cannot offer the individual a better life, if the country is detrimental to the individual's existence, doesn't the individual have the right to give up the country, to say no to it? By the same token, all the regions in China are like members of the Chinese family-if one of the brothers wants to live separately, isn't it barbaric to go smash his home and beat him up?"
The audience was thrown into a tumult, with many eyes glowering at Nan, who forced himself not to wince. Mr. Liu smiled and said, " Nan Wu, my friend, I see your point. I can sympathize with your concern for humanity, but your argument is infeasible and too naive. If China doesn't get Taiwan back, another country will take it and set up military bases there to threaten China. Sometimes a nation must sacrifice to survive."
Mei Hong, the short, bony-faced woman, stood up and spoke in a shrill voice. "I totally agree with Mr. Liu. John F. Kennedy said, 'Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.' Even Americans put their national interests before the individual's interests. Without Taiwan, our shoreline will be cut in half. Also, if Taiwan goes independent, then how about Tibet, Inner Mongolia, and Sinkiang Uighur? If we let this happen, China would break into numerous small warring states. Then chaos will rule our homeland, millions and millions of people will be homeless and die of famine, and the world will be swarmed with refugees."
Nan challenged, "You're a Christian. Does your religion teach you to kill? Are there not enough crimes committed on the pretext of patriotism in this century?"
Shiming Bian, the pastor, broke in, "Christianity doesn't tolerate evil. Anyone who wants to destroy China deserves his own destruction. Nan Wu, you're too emotional to think coherently. Even a democratic country like the United States fought the Civil War to keep the country from going separate."
Nan cried, "Isn't the current Chinese government an evil power that banished you? Why do you see eye to eye with it?"
Mr. Liu put in, "We must differentiate the government from our country and people. The government can be evil, but both our people and our country are good. I'm optimistic because I cannot afford to lose hope for our nation. The world already has too many pessimists, a dollar a dozen, so we ought to take heart."
That shut Nan up, but he wasn't persuaded. He thought of retorting with the aphorism Mr. Liu had often quoted from Hegel, "the nature of a people determines the nature of their government," but he sat down and remained silent. The question-and-answer period continued.
Nan left the meeting before it was over. The next morning he phoned Pastor Bian's residence, where Mr. Liu was staying, and left a message on the machine: he invited both of them to dinner at the Gold Wok. But they didn't return his call. Nan was disappointed by both Mr. Liu and the pastor, so for a long time he didn't set foot in that church again.
23
THERE WERE hundreds of Tibetans living in the Atlanta area, some of whom were graduate students. They gathered in a lecture room at Emory University on weekends to meditate and listen to a monk preach on Buddhist scriptures. Dick was involved with this group and often urged Nan and Pingping to join them, but the Wus couldn't, having to work on weekends. They had noticed that whenever they slackened their efforts at the Gold Wok, problems would crop up and customers would complain. They had to do their utmost to maintain the quality of their offerings, keep the restaurant clean and orderly, and see to it that every part of the business went without a hitch.