‘Qi— No, Suitang, let me tell you about Jia Wan,’ Mengliu said, the alcohol perhaps making his speech a little incoherent. ‘You don’t understand him…Hei Chun might still be alive…It’s hard to know the truth.’
He looked at Suitang’s face. She seemed very interested in what he had to say.
In the story of Jia Wan’s infidelities, according to Mogen, the betrayal of his motherland and of certain political beliefs were smaller matters than the betrayal of his friends.
The summer following the breaking up of the protest in Round Square, the atmosphere had been sensitive and fragile, and everyone was on edge. Summer arrived early, many of the flowers refused to open, and the trees remained bare of leaves. People were very interested in poetry readings, which occurred often and were well-attended. The most sensational was the one held in a small garden near Round Square. There had once been grassy mounds there, where the bodies of the dead had been buried, but it had since been covered with concrete. Most of the reciters were students. They read poems by Neruda and Miłosz, Whitman and the Three Musketeers. Later, a young man rushed onto the stage, and recited what was in effect a letter of resignation. He was scrawny as a flagpole. Sweat covered his forehead, and he was nervous, his face suddenly turning brick red. He said, ‘Being obedient citizens under a tyrant’s reign is immoral…’ This phrase pushed the atmosphere to a climax. The young man worked at the Propaganda Unit and was known only by his code name. Somebody shouted that it was time to take care of the headaches, and time for the young people to give their lives for their country. The people’s emotions were stirred. Things got out of control, grew chaotic. One of the less famous poets recited poems as he undressed. Then most of the poets began to strip until they were naked, turning the poetry reading into performance art. Later, when the police came, those who were naked and those who were not, poets and non-poets, were all taken into custody and charged with disturbing social order. They were detained for fifteen days. The enquiries did not address the undressing, most of the questions were about the content of the poetry. More pointed investigations revealed that it had been aimed at inciting the people, and instigating a reactionary movement. This was especially true of the resignation letter, and his use of the word ‘tyranny’ brought the young man, Xiao Guang, a good deal of trouble. He remained incarcerated longer than anyone else, and it was at this time that Mogen met him.
It was finally over, but the situation remained tense. Many had been caught, punished, and even put to death. Many more remained under ‘close observation’. Mogen fled to his hometown on a remote island to hide. Jia Wan went to great trouble to find him, bringing him news of the death or disappearance of many of their classmates. Of course, he also brought cigarettes, liquor and books, and kept him company as they drank, discussed poetry, talked about ideals, and analysed the current situation. Mogen felt that, even as the world collapsed around him, he had gained a valuable friendship. He decided he would continue working with Jia Wan for the sake of their fallen classmates. Mogen acted anonymously, while Jia Wan used his numerous connections to help him find work in the district, procuring materials for the manufacture of illegal cigarettes. Mogen still felt uneasy. When everyone else was living in hiding, why was Jia Wan completely unaffected? He even seemed to be a little too successful. But then, one night, Jia Wan drove for more than two hours, rushing back from the provincial capital to vent his frustrations to Mogen, cursing the authorities and informing his friend that he had resigned from the Plum Party. Mogen gained new respect for Jia Wan, and started treating him as a confidante. It was on that night that Jia Wan brought up the idea of setting up an organisation to carry out underground activities. He would be responsible for handling the money, and he asked Mogen to find trustworthy people. First, they would start an underground newspaper for publicity and the enlightenment of the people, and at the same time, they would correspond with related overseas organisations. He even had the audacity to say that everyone should behave like the poets had.
Hot-blooded Mogen once again found meaning in life. He immediately started preparing and not long after, got hold of a place for the underground press, pulling trusted compatriots together from all over the island. However, Jia Wan’s promised funds never materialised, no matter how long Mogen waited. One day, Xiao Guang, the reader of the resignation letter, suddenly appeared before Mogen, and asked him about his relationship with the overseas organisations. He had stolen a secret document and said it might be valuable. Skeptical, Mogen asked him why he should risk imprisonment. Xiao Guang said that, for the sake of their companions who had shed their blood, he had always hoped to be able to do something to help. He could not just stand idly by. Mogen treated the matter casually at the time, but he did tell Jia Wan about it. Jia Wan was overjoyed and told Mogen to get his hands on the document. Mogen thought Xiao Guang could not be trusted, and did not want to be fooled by him. Several days later, Jia Wan drove to Mogen’s residence, and the two of them discussed Xiao Guang in detail, finally deciding that, even if he wasn’t very reliable, he was at least harmless. Three days later Jia Wan again brought up the document. Mogen remained hesitant, but Jia Wan demanded that he get it within three days, because he had already mentioned it to an overseas organisation. Two days later, he came to Mogen’s residence again, enraged this time. He said five people from the overseas organisation had already come to see him, and he did not want to keep them waiting as they had many other matters to attend to. If they did not establish trust from the beginning, there would be no way to work together in the future. He tossed his cigarette butt out the window, and bunched up his face. He wanted Mogen to pick up the document immediately, then go to the hotel to find the people from the overseas organisation.
Mogen got the file from Xiao Guang and went to the hotel in the city and met Jia Wan, but there was no sign of the members of the organisation. Jia Wan told him it was not convenient for them to meet him at the moment, but that the file would be passed on to them.
Actually, the so-called ‘overseas organisation‘ was just one of Jia Wan’s fabrications. He was also the one who had paid Xiao Guang one hundred yuan to read the resignation letter, then paid him another hefty sum to be part of this ‘document’ scheme. As soon as Mogen left the hotel, he was arrested by plain-clothes police officers and immediately sentenced to five years in prison for leaking state secrets. After his release, he could not find work, nor would anyone publish his articles, so he was left destitute.
Jia Wan, who had rendered meritorious service on the other hand, was transformed. He started up his own business and married the daughter of a senior official. He wrote lyrics praising the political apparatus, and his talent for flattery grew and grew. Using the rotted-out ladder of poetry, he climbed his way to the top through the black chimney of conscience. Hearing that Mogen had fallen on hard times, he secretly contacted him through influential friends, hoping to patch things up by using his wealth to redeem himself for past wrongs.
‘No matter what, Jia Wan is more powerful than you. There’s nothing he won’t do, no crime he won’t commit. He knows what he wants.’ Suitang’s sleepy voice did not lose its harshness. ‘But you? You don’t write poetry anymore. What do you want? Where are your ideals?’
‘After Bai Qiu’s death, poetry became hypocrisy, showing off, meaningless.’ Mengliu’s face darkened. ‘Rows of sentences are just row upon row of corpses. It’s all ringing in the ears, and hallucination.’
Suitang’s eyes closed as she lay on the lounge. She seemed to have fallen asleep.