Sixi’s voice sounded over the radio, reading poems by Pablo Neruda. Another voice, belonging to Fusheng, a professional broadcaster, joined in. They had hit it off the first day they met.
Mengliu was kept extremely busy doing odd jobs in Round Square. Hearing Qizi’s voice, he looked up and noticed she had the word ‘sorrow’ printed in huge letters across her back. He took some comfort from this, but the word also gave him a sense of foreboding. He was not sure when it had happened, but he was no longer angry with Qizi. A familiar joy glowed in him again. His affection and hunger were still alive, telling him of the suffering and pain she had undergone since they had parted. She had lost weight, but at the same time she had been through the forge, and had absorbed the essence and strength of darkness, breaking out of the door finally like a brilliantly shining gold coin.
He needed to speak to her.
He hung his megaphone on a flagpole and went back to the broadcasting station. He bent low and stepped into the tent, planning in his head to wait until the busy period was over to apologise to Qizi. He would accept any punishment from her, and the two would make up and engage in a dizzying embrace. But when he finally found Qizi, she was sitting with her back against a tent post, with a bag of fluid hanging from it. She was on a drip. They were holding a meeting. She was listening, brow furrowed, face pale, chin sharp as an awl. She had grown thin. Mengliu almost didn’t recognise her. She didn’t even look at him, or if she did, she showed no response. He wondered whether she recognised him. What were they involved in — a great cause? a brawl? It was because of their breakup that she had joined the demonstrations in a confused state. Could she be going on a hunger strike now because she had fallen out with him? Mengliu was absorbed in his conjectures when Qizi suddenly pulled the needle out of her arm and stood up.
She uttered something that shocked him — it was about self-immolation. She would use her death in exchange for the lives of the hundreds now on hunger strike.
Mengliu forgot to breathe. He was saying to himself, Qizi, you’re crazy. As if answering him, she said hoarsely, ‘I’m not mad. I am very composed. This is the only way we will awaken the conscience of those indifferent to our plight…’ Her voice quivered and she dropped to the ground.
Each man’s death diminishes me
for I am involved in mankind
therefore do not send to know
for whom the bell tolls
It tolls for me, and for thee
In times of fear and trembling
I want to make my life real
I must make this confession public
exposing my own hypocrisy
and that of my generation
As Sixi recited the poem on the radio, Hei Chun entered and interrupted her. He brought several important announcements and wanted to broadcast them immediately
‘There are no substantive negotiations. They are filibustering, obviously stalling for time.’ Hei Chun sat on the table, a cigarette in his hand.
‘That’s a pain. I heard that many people in the headquarters have fainted and are now in hospital,’ Mengliu said to him. He had been left in the tent with Sixi.
‘I know. Who is in charge of directing in the meantime?’ Hei Chun asked.
‘Fusheng. He’s got experience in organising.’
‘Damn it. Heaven is against us too. A heavy downpour on a sick crowd. I hope it won’t become an epidemic. The Red Cross has donated medicines that we should receive in the morning. There are also a thousand tents, and a transportation company has given us fifty buses at no cost. If it continues to rain, we’ll have places to shelter in.’ Hei Chun ran his hand from his forehead to the back of his neck.
‘How about everything else?’
‘No casualties, but still bad enough.’
‘I heard the hospitals are full.’
‘Quanmu is ferreting out the inside information. The situation is more complex than we ever imagined.’
Hei Chun lit his cigarette. He watched the match burn down almost to his fingertips, then blew it out.
‘Anyway, I believe history will give us our due.’ He took a deep drag of his cigarette, and let his eyes fall on Mengliu. ‘Guess what the bigwig had to say. He said, “As a member of the Plum Party I never conceal my views, but today I’m not going to say anything. In any case, I’ve pretty much stated what I think.”’
Mengliu couldn’t help but laugh.
‘They are so insincere. They said they wanted to visit, and talk to us directly, but then they wouldn’t communicate with us because they couldn’t get to Round Square.’ Hei Chun hopped down from the table, then crushed out the cigarette he had just lit. ‘It’s nothing but nonsense! The really bloody sacrifice is just around the corner. The death bell will begin tolling for this generation.’
‘Hei Chun, I think we should retreat…’
‘Retreat? Why? Are you crazy?’
‘You should understand their attitude better than anyone. Why should we slap ourselves in the face?’
Hei Chun was startled. Just then, there was a pelting sound. Someone was throwing stones at the tent.
Jia Wan burst into the tent with a single stride, dressed in his usual suit. He said, ‘Headquarters has announced an end to the hunger strike.’
Hei Chun was shocked. ‘End the hunger strike? I don’t believe it. Everyone has stuck with the strike for eight days. Why should they stop now before any real progress has been made?’
Outside, a group began a chant of, ‘We won’t eat! We won’t retreat!’
‘Come on, let’s go to HQ.’
The headquarters were located on board one of the buses. The windows had been smashed, and shattered glass covered the ground. Qizi and several others were on the bus discussing strategy.
Hei Chun strode onto the bus and asked, ‘Why did you announce an end to the hunger strike?’
Qizi had already begun to look like a paper doll, and now it seemed like she had been cut even thinner. It was difficult for her to swallow her own saliva. Her hair was messy as a bird’s nest, and she was enveloped in a confusion typical of the homeless. Hei Chun must have remembered how she used to look, pale in the sunlight with dark eyes. He did not dare to look directly at her. ‘Why should we betray the efforts of all those who have suffered through the strike?’
Qizi did not reply.
‘Well, I’ll explain it to you.’ Quanmu stood up. He was dirty too, and there was a trickle of blood on his forehead. ‘I have heard from reliable sources that they will declare martial law soon. Most likely tonight, tomorrow morning, this site will be raided. We held an emergency meeting and decided that it was best to break the hunger strike.’
Boom. A brick pelted the bus.
‘How will that convince them? The people who have suffered and worked over the past eight days don’t have the right to cast their sacred vote?’ Hei Chun’s tone relaxed a bit as he continued, ‘If we undermine democratic procedures, we damage the reputation of everyone at headquarters. Do you want the people to look down on us?