But on the evening of the sixth day the city was immersed in a deluge of rain that showed no signs of stopping: it howled through the sky and beat against the ground, and soon the city’s nooks and crannies were inundated with water. The rain made Rong Jinzhen feel even worse for all the personnel from Unit 701 who had come to search for his notebook, that most precious repository for his thoughts that the rain would now transform into an undecipherable blotch of ink. The rain had coalesced into a torrent, most likely washing the notebook away with it, making it even more difficult to find. The heavy rain drenched everyone with a feeling of acute pain and a terrible sense of anguish. But for Rong Jinzhen it must have been even worse, more dispiriting. To tell the truth, this rain was really no different from any other downpour: it harboured no ill will, and certainly had no connection to the thief ’s actions; but from a certain point of view, it did seem as though the rain was the far-off echo of the thief, as if the two were in silent collusion, the rain carrying on the malice of the thief, nurturing it, ensuring that this disaster became more intense, heightening its impact.
The rain drowned any remaining hope that Rong Jinzhen still held. .
[To be continued]To hear other people tell it, the rain drowned any remaining hope that Rong Jinzhen still harboured.
With this torrential downpour, it was easy to see how severely this catastrophe had affected Rong Jinzhen. It was as if some unknown outside entity was manipulating the situation, bringing whatever was dreadful and unexpected all into line, to form a freak combination of events; an abhorrent situation. Because of the rainstorm, Rong Jinzhen looked back on the last twelve years, back upon its mysteries and profundities: he saw how the inspiration he received on how to decipher PURPLE, gleaned from a dream about Mendeleev, had in one night metamorphosed him into something glorious and splendid. He used to think that this type of miracle, this form of divine providence, was no longer something he possessed because it was too extraordinary: such miraculousness meant people dare not seek it. But now he felt that this heavenly intervention had returned, but not in the same form as it once had. Now it was brightness together with darkness, a rainbow together with menacing clouds; it was the reverse of a ‘thing’ — as though over these many years, he had been circling round this ‘thing’ but had only seen the ‘proper’ side. Now, however, it was inevitable that he would witness the reverse.
But what was this ‘thing’?
To this former student of Mr Auslander, a student whose heart had been influenced by the teachings of Jesus, this ‘thing’ could be nothing else but God, the omnipotent Holy Spirit. Because he felt that this ‘thing’ must be God, it possessed a complicated and yet absolute nature. While it possessed a beautiful side, it also and necessarily possessed an evil side; it was benevolent, but also malevolent. Though it seemed to be only a spirit, it possessed enormous power and capabilities, forever forcing you to revolve around it, spinning and spinning; allowing you to observe alclass="underline" all that was happiness and pain, all that was hope and despair, all that was heaven and hell, all that was glorious and in ruin, all that was honourable and dishonourable, all that was exultation and grief, all that was good and evil, all that was day and night, all that was bright and dark, all that was proper and improper, all that was yin and yang, all that was above and below, all that was inside and out, all that was this and that, all that was everything. .
The radiant and grand appearance of God on the scene thoroughly and decisively put Rong Jinzhen’s heart at ease. He thought, ‘If this is how it is, then this must be God’s plan: how could I oppose it? Resistance is futile. God’s laws are just. God would not change these laws to satisfy the aspirations of any man. God’s ultimate plan is to make clear to everyone the beauty of all creation.’ God had shown the nature of everything to Rong Jinzhen by means of PURPLE and BLACK –
All that was happiness and pain.
All that was hope and despair.
All that was heaven and hell.
All that was glorious and in ruin.
All that was honourable and dishonourable.
All that was exultation and grief.
All that was good and evil.
All that was day and night.
All that was bright and dark.
All that was proper and improper.
All that was yin and yang.
All that was above and below.
All that was inside and out.
All that was this and that.
All that was everything. .
Upon hearing these parallel slogans issue forth from deep inside, Rong Jinzhen calmly and serenely turned his eyes away from the downpour still raging outside. Whether it stopped raining or not seemed no longer to matter: the sound of the rain was no longer unbearable. When he lay down, the sound of the rain was amiable, so pure and unadulterated, so mild and gentle, he was entranced by it; he felt himself dissolving into it. He slept and dreamed. Within his dream he heard a far-off call — ‘You still have this superstitious faith in God. . God is a coward. . God never gave Johannes a perfect life. . And don’t tell me that God’s laws are just. . God’s laws are entirely unjust. . ’
The last phrase repeated over and over in his mind, the voice getting louder and louder; finally sounding like lighting cracking in his ears, forcing him awake — and yet he still heard the voice linger in his ears: ‘Unjust — unjust — unjust. . ’
He didn’t recognize who or what spoke these lines, and he certainly didn’t know why it had wanted to speak these mysterious words to him — ‘“God’s laws are unjust!” All right, let’s say they are unjust, but then what?’ He began to ponder. But whether it was from the pounding in his head or from some unconscious worry or unknown fear he harboured, his thoughts were uncoordinated and unfocused. Every starting point drifted out of reach, like a headless dragon not knowing which way to go. A quarrelsome cacophony raged in his head: his mind was like a pot of boiling water, bubbling and gurgling. But if you removed the lid you would discover nothing of value inside. His mind was simply going through the motions; nothing of substance was happening. A moment later, the mental undulation ceased — as if food had been put in the pot to cook. Then memories of the train ride, the thief, his leather attaché case, the rainstorm rolled over him in succession, bringing into the frame once more his own personal doom. But this time, Rong Jinzhen did not understand the significance of these memories — as if the food had yet to be fully cooked. Later, the memories pressed themselves upon him once more — like the pot beginning to slowly boil again. But now the pot was no longer empty. His mind was beginning to become excited as a mariner is once he sees land after a long sea voyage. Moving at full throttle towards his destination, moving ever closer, Rong Jinzhen once again heard that mysterious voice speak to him: ‘Allowing this accident to herald catastrophe for you, to beat you down, how is that just?’
‘Noooooo —!’ Rong Jinzhen roared, smashing through the door and rushing out into the downpour, assailing the darkness with invective: ‘God, you have been unjust to me! God, I want to let BLACK defeat me! Only by letting BLACK defeat me can there be justice! God, only the vilest person need suffer such unfairness! God, only the vilest divinity could force me to suffer such blame! Oh wicked Lord, you shouldn’t do this! Oh vicious God, I will fight you to the bitter end —!’