‘You’ve got a weak stomach,’ I said. ‘I’m afraid you might collapse after a couple of days without food.’ I poured the remaining soup into a bowl and handed it to Mimi, saying, ‘Careful, it’s hot.’ Mimi thanked me and produced a jar of fermented tofu. When she unscrewed the lid a pungent stench filled the room.
‘Give me some,’ Tian Yi said. The pitch of her voice always rose when she spoke to girls. ‘You might be afraid, Dai Wei, but I’m not.’
‘We’ll surround you with a cordon of student marshals to prevent you getting crushed if the police attack.’ I watched them pick up small cubes of the pink fermented tofu with their chopsticks.
Mimi left the room, sipping from her bowl of soup as she went and using her foot to close the door behind her.
‘Do you promise you’ll look after me?’ Tian Yi said.
‘I’ll sit down next to you. If you collapse you can fall on my lap.’ I gripped her shoulders and breathed the smell of her hair and the fresh coriander she’d eaten. She pushed me away and stared blankly at the remaining soup in her bowl. Her nose was pinker and shinier than the rest of her face.
It was still raining outside. The dorm blocks looked like rows of featureless wooden boxes.
She sat on the edge of her bunk. Her right hand was resting on a table, almost touching a pile of books. She rubbed a coriander leaf between the ink-stained fingers of her left hand.
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘You can give up the hunger strike if it gets too much. It’s only for show, after all.’
‘What if I die?’
‘Adults can go without food for several weeks,’ I said. ‘You’ll be fine so long as you keep drinking lots of water.’
‘But what if I die?’ she repeated, and closed her mouth.
‘You won’t die. If you pass out, we’ll rush you to hospital.’
I seldom saw Tian Yi smile. I once asked her why she was always so serious. She said happiness felt unnatural to her.
‘I must go and brush my teeth,’ she said, standing up.
I went to my dorm to wake Mou Sen and ask him to help me draft an announcement ordering my student marshal team to assemble. He scribbled a few lines then hurried back to Beijing Normal on his bike.
As soon as Chen Di had broadcast the announcement, the campus became as busy as it had been in the lead-up to the last march on 4 May. Everyone began to walk faster and speak with greater urgency.
I was repairing the megaphones when Tian Yi came in and said, ‘I’m going to head off to the Square. I don’t want to walk with the others. If I don’t make it back, you can open this bag.’
I guessed that it contained her journals or photograph albums. I touched her hand. It felt cold with fear.
‘What if your stomach plays up? You must take your medication with you.’
‘I’ve got it. Look inside my satchel. I’ve packed Selected Essays on Modern Western Fiction and Kafka’s Metamorphosis, stomach pills, my camera and a torch.’
On the ground next to her satchel was also a travel bag containing a plastic soapbox, a roll of toilet paper and a blue plastic visor stuffed between some shirts and trousers.
Next door, Chen Di was broadcasting the rules of the hunger strike: ‘… Three: You can take water and soft drinks into the Square, but no food or sweets, unless you’re not planning to join the…’
‘I wish you’d change your mind,’ I said, staring into her eyes.
‘I should set off now. Take care.’ She was always telling me to take care. I pulled her close to me. She bowed her head and said, ‘No,’ but didn’t push me away. Her body was stiff.
‘Don’t worry. The strike will probably only last a day or so — that should be enough to scare Premier Li Peng.’ I stared at the darkness between her rows of neat white teeth and inhaled the scent of toothpaste that flowed out. Then I took her hand and led her upstairs. When I found an empty room, I pulled her inside, shut the door and put my arms around her.
‘You haven’t locked the door…’ she mumbled as I leaned down to kiss her.
We made love on the floor. As I lay on top of her after it was over, I felt her stomach rumble.
‘It’s raining now, so don’t cycle to the Square,’ I said as we quickly stood up again. ‘You’re better off walking. We’ll bring the quilts out for you later. We’ve got two tricycle carts to transport things to and from the Square.’ My voice cracked, as it always did when I became excited about something.
She combed the fingers of one hand through my hair, while tightening her belt with her other.
‘I’m going now. Put my quilt in a plastic bag before you bring it to the Square.’
‘Of course, and I’ll bring your mattress and pillow as well.’ I shuffled my foot over the pool of sperm that had dripped onto the concrete floor.
On the way downstairs she whispered to me, ‘Take care of yourself.’
‘You take care too,’ I said, stopping on the landing of the first floor and taking a drag from the cigarette I’d just lit.
I listened to her footsteps disappear down the stairs. The white plimsolls she was wearing made almost no noise when they touched the concrete floor.
I felt as though I’d just dropped a porcelain vase. I crushed out my cigarette and returned to my dorm.
Shu Tong asked me to check on the Beijing University hunger strikers who’d gone for a ‘farewell meal’ at Yanchun restaurant, and report back to him on any developments. Before I set off, I told Chen Di and Yu Jin to get the student marshals ready.
By now three hundred Beijing University students had signed up for the strike. The restaurant was full. One girl was holding a placard that said I LOVE TRUTH MORE THAN RICE! I LOVE DEMOCRACY MORE THAN BREAD! Another student had written across his cotton vest I CAN ENDURE HUNGER, BUT NOT A LIFE WITHOUT LIBERTY! A tall student had a banner draped around his neck that said HUNGER STRIKERS WON’T EAT DEEP-FRIED DEMOCRACY!
Bai Ling’s hunger strike declaration was blaring from the restaurant’s cassette player: ‘In this most beautiful moment of our youth, we must put the beauty of life behind us. Mother China, look at your sons and daughters…’
Most of the students were wearing white, black or red bandannas. As I moved over to a table, Han Dan and some other students stood up and began reciting the hunger strikers’ oath: ‘To promote democracy in the motherland, we solemnly swear that we will go on hunger strike and will persevere until our goal is achieved…’
The meal was hosted by some of the younger professors from our university. A bottle of beer was placed in front of every student.
After the oath was sworn, the students took souvenir photographs of each other beneath a banner on which the creative writing students had written THE HEROES ARE DEPARTING. WE AWAIT THEIR RETURN!
I ran back to the campus and told Shu Tong that hundreds of students had joined the strike and that the Organising Committee was definitely in danger of being sidelined. Shu Tong proposed filling the posts that had been vacated by the resignations of Bai Ling, Han Dan, Yang Tao and Shao Jian. Liu Gang took a puff on his cigarette, paused, and declared that we should just carry on with the five remaining members.