Bi Feiyu - Three Sisters

When everyone was present in the classroom, the young homeroom teacher stood straight as a javelin at the blackboard looking unhappy. He was waiting for Director Qian to speak. But Qian just pursed his lips, which deepened the lines around his mouth. He hadn’t said a word from the moment he walked into the classroom, but finally he lit a cigarette, inhaled, and slowly blew the smoke out. Then he spoke.

“My name is Qian, you know, ‘money,’” he said. “Anyone who has the guts can step up and steal me.”

His comment elicited laughter that quickly died out—he did not look like he was joking. Then he went quiet for a long time, during which two rays of light shot out of his eyes like the searchlights in black-and-white movies. The lights sliced across the face of every student with an inaudible swish, and if one of them shied away from the searching look and lowered her head, he warned her, “Raise your head and look me in the eye. Don’t look away.”

Director Qian’s devotion to all aspects of student affairs—life, work, and thought—was famous among teacher-training schools, even at the provincial level. For two straight years he had been awarded the title of “Advanced Worker at the City and Provincial Levels.” The certificates hung proudly on his office wall. During the reign of the Gang of Four, he’d been imprisoned, and after his rehabilitation, his superiors had planned to “bring him up” to work in the bureau. But to their surprise, he had turned down the offer, insisting that he’d rather work “down below.”

He said he was passionate about school and passionate about education, so he stayed put and began his second spring at the school. He spared no effort on behalf of his students, working diligently to make up for lost time. In his own words, he was in charge of matters as important as someone’s death and as trivial as the disappearance of a needle. No one could “trick the mosquitoes into taking a nap” because he was a master at managing student affairs, all of which could be summarized by one word: “seize.” Seize the work, and seize the individual. He wrapped one hand around his wrist as he explained to all the homeroom teachers how to seize a person. You take the matter and, more important, the person, in hand and squeeze, forcing submission. That does it. Thanks to his graphic, vivid description, the homeroom teachers caught on immediately.

Frankly, every student at the school was afraid of Director Qian and tried to avoid him at all costs. But when they did encounter him, they realized that he wasn’t so scary after all. He’d call students over and ask nicely, “Would you say I’m a tiger?”

No, he was not a tiger; he was a hawk, a predator that could spot prey even when it didn’t see him. Once a problem arose somewhere, a special odor attracted him, and he cast his shadow on the ground, soundlessly circling above. At this particular moment, the hawk was perched on the Section Three classroom podium, eyes fixed on the students below. He was talking again, but not about the theft, not directly, and the confused students were properly intimidated, even shaken, by the righteousness in his voice.

“What kind of school did the principal and I decide to set up?”

He began with a serious and fundamental question.

“I want you to know that I was in complete agreement with our principal,” he continued, answering his own question, “when he said, ‘we must have steely discipline and steely character.’” He poked the podium with his index finger to remind the students of the meaning of “steely.” What is steel? Of course, “you’ve all seen it” so there was no need for Director Qian to repeat himself. Focusing on the common metal, he slowly worked his way up to the matter at hand.

“How can steel be so durable? Because it has been refined and is unalloyed. If there are impurities, it will fail and the building will collapse.” Then another question: “So what must we do? Very simply, we must identify the impurity and expunge it.” The classroom was so quiet that the girls could hear their own labored breathing. Some girls’ faces turned red from trying too hard to regulate their breathing. In conclusion, Director Qian said, “Now I’m giving you a word of caution: Honesty begets leniency; resistance begets harshness. Dismissed.”

But Pang Fenghua’s meal coupons and cash were not missing at all. She’d been in such a hurry Saturday morning, thanks to the 3,000-meter race, that she’d taken them out and put them in a small pocket sewn into her underwear; then, once she’d started running around the track, she had forgotten about them. She found them Monday while doing her laundry. They still carried the warmth from her body.

But she had sounded the alarm and alerted the police, and thus could not bring herself to reveal the truth. Crouching in the bathroom, she cried a second time, her face the picture of genuine sorrow and grief. No one could bring her out of her crying fit; in fact, the more people tried, the harder she cried. In the end, even the other girls began to cry with her. Who could blame her? Something so terrible would make anyone cry.

Fenghua went to see the young homeroom teacher that night. He lived in the teachers’ dorm, but all the other teachers were out playing ball while he stayed behind to correct homework. She stopped and held on to the door frame with both hands until he turned and gestured for her to sit down in the only available seat, the single bed beside his desk. Still looking grief-stricken, she lowered herself slowly, wriggling her hips to locate the edge before finally settling onto the bed. The teacher found the graceful way she sat enchanting. Fenghua was not especially pretty, but her hips had an alluring quality that was not lost on the teacher, whose sympathy for her redoubled. He swallowed hard. “Any new clues?” he asked.

With her eyes fixed on him, she shook her head silently, looking wan and obviously distressed. He sighed, realizing how difficult it must be for her now that her money was gone, so he took out his wallet and offered her ten yuan.

“This should tide you over for a few days.”

Deeply moved by his gesture, she stared at the money as tears welled up in her eyes. Her gaze slowly moved up until their eyes met, hers now brimming with tears.

“Teacher,” she said, but she was unable to go on and began to weep.

She threw herself down on his pillow and sobbed, her shoulders heaving. He got up and sat beside her, cautiously reaching out to pat her on the back. She twisted her shoulders, sending a signal: “Leave me alone.” But how could her own homeroom teacher leave her alone? So he patted her some more, touching the bottom of her heart and bringing forth even more tears. This time she did not twist her shoulders, but she increased her crying to the point that her whole body seemed to be choking on tears. His heart was breaking.

This went on for two or three minutes until Fenghua recovered, quietly got up, and wordlessly took the money before she sat down in his chair. She slipped the money under the glass tabletop of his desk and picked up his handkerchief to dry her eyes. Then she turned and, looking right at him, smiled briefly; but she hurriedly shut her mouth and hid the smile behind her hand. Without warning, she stood up and walked to the door. There she spun around to see him still sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at his handkerchief.

The case remained open because the police had found no clues of any value after taking Fenghua’s testimony, which made it impossible to proceed. On Monday afternoon, the students in Section Three noticed that the police car that had been parked outside the administrative building was gone. With more important things to do, the police could not possibly waste any more time on a trivial matter like this. But Director Qian said that they must solve the case, and that meant increased responsibility for everyone at the school if they were to get to the bottom of this. So the teachers in the security and student affairs sections divided up the labor and produced an organizational plan. They formed a special-case unit that was in operation day and night, and spread the net far and wide—a dragnet that would snare even the most cunning fish.