“Let us not engage in class retaliation,” the Party secretary said. “Instead, let us unite in favor of stability. Class retaliation is not the correct attitude for historical materialists.” That public statement altered Wei’s fate.
After seventeen self-examinations, twenty-six tearful demonstrations, and nine solemn vows, he was returned to the school and assigned to the security section. Being the sole person in that section, he was also appointed as a member of the school union committee, which was responsible for duties related to daily life. The union was an interesting place because the position of chairman was traditionally assumed by the vice principal.
In practice, however, Wei was in charge, although the vice principal’s name was on the door of the chairman’s office. As a result, the school union stopped being a true union[14] and became the security section, an organ of the dictatorship. The daily duties conducted by the union all related to women: distributing birth control pills, condoms, sanitary napkins, and shampoo to the female faculty. Wei worked hard, and that, of course, was good. But most important was how he adjusted his attitude to fit each situation, whether the position was high or low. A true man knows when to be humble and when to be assertive.
Once, at a section meeting, he announced to the female faculty, “From now on, don’t think of me as a man, no, don’t even treat me as human. I am a feminine product you can use whenever you want.” With words like these coming from a big, husky man like Wei, the teachers laughed so hard they nearly doubled over. If it had been any other man, they’d have called him a scoundrel, but coming from him, the words sounded different. It was no easy matter for a rugged man like Wei to bounce back after taking such a fall, but he developed a cordial relationship with the female faculty. When the teachers came for their items, for instance, he’d say, “Here you are, Teacher Zhang, 3.3 centimeters long for your husband. Teacher Wang, this one is yours, 3.5 centimeters.”
Talk about shameless! How could he be so coarse? I’m coarse, I admit it, but what’s wrong with that? I am coarse. Back and forth they bantered and flirted. Instead of detesting him, the women actually welcomed someone who had a sense of humor and was eager to help. Who doesn’t like to joke and laugh? Who doesn’t want to be happy and cheerful every day? Who wants to constantly frown and live a life centered on class differences?
It was only logical for Wei to be in charge of the school security team, but the leadership followed strict organizational procedures in appointing him. Director Qian recommended Wei, but that required the personal consent of the Party secretary before it was approved. As someone who was capable of getting the job done, he was the ideal man. One semester he caught a pair of thieves on campus. Rather than beat or berate them, he tied their hands behind their backs before pasting medicinal plasters from the school infirmary over their eyes and letting them loose on the sports field, where they could walk, jump, or run, but not get away.
Groping around with their feet, as if they were trying to catch fish underwater, they cut a pathetic figure. Seven hours later, they knelt down and wailed, a sight that drew laughter even from the old Party secretary, who privately admitted that Wei had a knack for educational discipline. While the head of the school security team was not a particularly important post, it gave him the ideal opportunity to expend his excess energy and showcase his talent, all to the benefit of the school. Naturally, in light of his special circumstance, he had to be employed “under supervision”—the degree of which would be determined by Director Qian.
“What do you think, Little Wei?” Director Qian asked him as they sat in the student affairs office. Wei was less than a year younger than Qian, but Qian always called him Little Wei to mark the distinction between leader and subordinate. Little Wei was standing before Qian like a student.
“I’ll do whatever Director Qian asks me to do,” he said sincerely.
“Give me frequent reports,” Qian said.
“I will.”
Qian was pleased. He was a man who did not like flattery. If you tried it on him, he saw right through it. On the other hand, he appreciated people who worked for and talked to him respectfully. Clearly pleased, he said, “You may go now.”
“Head of the school security team” was a vague phrase that could or could not be considered a job title. But that was not important; most important was the group of troopers under Wei’s supervision, the people he would deploy. His job was no sinecure, but it was one that moved him into a leadership role. And that made him inordinately happy.
Soon after he took up his post, Wei began meeting with the students one-on-one, his favorite mode of carrying out his duties. During evening study period, Wang Yuyang watched as Wei called Pang Fenghua out of the classroom and then saw the two of them carry on a long and serious yet cordial conversation in the hallway. Yuyang reminded herself to be careful and not to talk too much in front of Fenghua, now that she’d become one of the more active students. But then she considered her own place in the class. She really didn’t amount to much; she was like a squirt of urine in the Yangtze River. With or without her, it made no difference, and nothing either good or bad would come to her, so why worry? That thought put her more or less at ease, but it was a special kind of ease; it was neither painful nor scratchy—not bitter and not sweet, sort of sour.
Yuyang was experiencing a hard-to-describe sense of loss. She knew she was jealous of Fenghua. Never one to compete with others, she nevertheless secretly felt that she was a match for Fenghua; but now, though hard to believe, she paled in comparison. The other girls in class were whispering that, thanks to special tutoring by their homeroom teacher, Fenghua had even learned to understand Misty Poetry.[15] That was no small feat. Obviously she’d made considerable progress.
But Yuyang had underestimated herself. Good luck was about to make a visit; she just didn’t know it yet because Wei was still deliberating. With his experience in management and discipline, Wei had little faith in the school security team, for the team members, though unquestionably enthusiastic about their mission, had a serious flaw: They were out in the open, and the other students were on their best behavior around them. That made them ineffective when it came to monitoring their fellow students’ thoughts and souls. In order to fully understand them and truly take control of their actions, Wei would need to find suitable informants from the inside—“an eye that can see ten thousand li” or “an ear that can hear what travels with the wind.” This sort of person should not be too prominent, too showy, or too noticeable in either a positive or negative way. Wei was convinced that he would be well informed in regard to the political orientation of the school if he could develop one such student in each class. Naturally, these students were to remain anonymous heroes, reporting to him and him alone.
Yuyang could not believe that Teacher Wei even knew who she was. He’d called out “Wang Yuyang” in a loud, clear voice, and had even waved, so obviously he was trying to get her attention. This unexpected recognition from the teacher was flattering, but it also made her nervous. The stolen money incident was closed, yet it remained an unstated sore spot for her, and she was still afraid of being called on by the teachers.
Wei summoned her to the general duty office. Lacking the nerve to take a seat on her own, she stood with her eyes lowered, but after a brief and simple chat, she realized that Teacher Wei was a genial person and not mean at all, despite the fact that he was tall and big-boned, which gave him a rough appearance.
14
This is not a union in the style of a workers’ organization; the responsibilities at a school are to furnish daily necessities.