Qiu Xiaolong - Enigma of China

“I, too, thought it sold quite well. As it turned out, however, a Big Buck bought a thousand copies from the publisher, and then gave them out as gifts to his business associates. While it was done as a favor to me, and without my knowledge, it came as a blow to my self-esteem as a poet. And as a cop, too, since I failed to detect that trick with the sales. But then again, I didn’t graduate from the police academy, so perhaps that can be counted as a factor in my defense.”

She enjoyed his subtle touch of self-irony. At least he knew better. Then it was her turn to speak in a self-deprecating way.

“I didn’t major in finance. But for a girl from Anhui, any job in Shanghai was worth grabbing. My major in English did give me one advantage, though. In today’s financial world, a lot of new terms have to be translated from English. For instance, mortgage and option. These terms were nonexistent in the state economy. So I was offered the position at Wenhui .”

“That is quite a coincidence. I was assigned to the job at the police bureau due to similar considerations-I was needed to translate a handbook of police procedures.”

“In my situation, there’s also a material difference between a literature journalist and a finance journalist.”

“Enlighten me, Lianping.”

“For example, at the meeting at the Writers’ Association, what I was given there was a cup of tea. And not high-quality tea, for that matter. But at a meeting of real estate professionals, a journalist might be given all sorts of things. One time, I was even given a laptop.”

“No wonder Tieliang no longer writes,” Chen said. “But still, your job is important. It helps people understand the financial world in which they live, a world that would otherwise make no sense to them.”

“Well, it might be necessary for us to make sense of it in a politically acceptable way. As Zhuangzi put it, ‘He who steals a hook will be hanged; he who steals a country will be made a prince.’ Our job is to justify the practice of country-stealing.”

“Yes, corruption runs like an unbridled horse through this one-party system of ours.”

“People all know about it, but can we write about it? For instance, consider all the shady deals in the housing market. One of the developers of the Xujiahui, Mr. Tao, used to be a dumpling peddler, but now, three or four years later, Tao is a billionaire. How? It’s said that a high-ranking official in the city government took a fancy to Tao’s wife after he saw her ladling out dumplings in their curbside stall. Needless to say, the official both gave and took in an incredible amount from her dainty hand-money for access-after they enjoyed cloud and rain in the dark night.”

“You know a lot about these things, Lianping.”

“I’m a finance journalist, and I have a friend whose father is a developer. I hear about all the manipulations and fluctuations of land prices done in the interests of the Party,” she said, with an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I’m getting a bit carried away.”

“No, I’m grateful for your insight. I have to admit, by catching the ‘last bus’ during the housing reform, I was assigned to a three-bedroom apartment. Supposedly I got such a large place because of my mother, even though she refused to move in with me.”

“You don’t have to say that. For a Party official of your rank, a three-bedroom apartment would be nothing. Nor has there been anything like ‘last bus.’ Just half a year ago, the head of Wenhui got a villa rent-free, the theory being that he would then be able to work better for the Party newspaper.”

“Well, in terms of social Darwinism, it’s the successful-whether businessmen or Party officials-versus the unsuccessful, the ordinary people.”

“But can we write about or report on them? No. That’s why Party newspapers, like Wenhui or Liberation, are really struggling. They only survive because of the mandatory subscription policy in the city. That also explains the popularity of Internet blog writings. They’re watched by the government, but not that strictly or that effectively.”

“Well, I happened to be in the neighborhood,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. “One of my colleagues had an accident on the street corner around here.”

“Oh,” she said, slightly disappointed. He wasn’t here because he’d thought of her-or about the poems he’d promised her. “Those reckless drivers are impossible.”

He then took another sip in silence.

“But it’s strange,” she said. “Usually, cars drive slowly around here. What day was this?”

“Monday.”

“So that’s-” She didn’t finish the sentence. “Yes, I remember hearing something about it.”

“Detective Wei was killed-right there and then.”

“Killed. That’s impossible.” Shocked, she stood up and pointed out the window. “Look at the snaillike traffic.”

Chen followed her gesture and waited for her to go on.

“This is a busy street. It’s not like the highway, but it has its own terrible traffic. Sometimes the traffic is in a total snarl. On the fifteenth floor, you might not hear that much noise, but one definitely can in my office.”

“Because it’s a busy intersection with many people coming and going?”

“Do you know how many people come to Wenhui every day? A large number of the journalists have their own cars. Then there are the taxis for the visitors. Sometimes there are so many that the taxis form a long, curving line in front of the building. There is also the kindergarten across the street.”

“The kindergarten? Yes, I remember seeing one across the street. But what about it?”

“You should see it around three thirty. There are even more cars lined up and waiting then. It’s a private kindergarten. One of the best in the city-the best location, the best reputation, and the best history. The enrollment cost alone is thirty thousand yuan per year. The annual donation parents have to make on top of that comes to around another ten thousand.”

“Wow, that’s more than an ordinary worker’s annual salary.”

“But those aren’t ordinary parents. That’s why, starting around three in the afternoon, you’ll always see a long line of cars there-chauffeurs and nannies, waiting in private luxury cars.”

“But what about the other times of the day?”

“There are still quite a lot of people. The kids might not arrive on time, or their parents may have them picked up earlier for one reason or another. The kindergarten aside, there are many people coming to Wenhui at any time of the day,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Some of the visitors here are government Big Bugs. That driver must have totally lost his mind to drive so recklessly along Weihai Road.”

“You mean that a driver along here should know better,” he said, taking out a notebook.

“I can’t say for sure. Anything could have happened. Is this the case you’re working on?”

“No, I’m only a consultant on that case, but Detective Wei was a colleague of mine.”

“Is foul play suspected?”

“I just heard about it, but I can’t help wondering how it could have happened right in front of Wenhui Office Building.”

“I’ll ask around and let you know. Some of my colleagues may have seen or heard more about it.”

“You’re really helpful.”

“I’ve also had the pictures from the meeting at the Writers’ Association developed.” She pulled out an envelope containing photos. They started looking through them together.

“That’s a good portrait,” he said, picking out a shot of himself. “Someday I may use it on a book cover.”

“That would be fantastic.”

“I’ll see to it that you get credit.”