Ha Jin - Under the Red Flag

Yours guilty,

Lu Han

P.S. Please inform my wife of my leaving so that she can come back and take care of the house and the pigs. I really appreciate this.

He wrapped into a blanket his summer clothes and his only two packets of Great Gate cigarettes, and tied them up with a rope. With all his secret personal savings—eleven yuan—in his pocket, and the clothes bundle on his back, he went into the kitchen and drank two scoops of cold water. He returned to blow out the lamp, then walked into the dark.

The night was cool and moonlit, filled with insects’ chirring and frogs’ croaking. He was not afraid of wolves. What he really feared was man, to him the most vicious animal and the most dangerous thing, because only man knew how to trap you. He ran as fast as he could and forced himself not to listen to any distinct sound. Fortunately, the temple was not far away, only four and a half kilometers from Ox Village. In twenty minutes it emerged in the distance. The glazed tiles shimmered in the moonshine, and the curved eaves stretched along the ridge of a hill and were shaded by the huge crowns of trees. On the roof perched the statuary lions and tigers that seemed alive and ready to stand up and patrol like guarding gods. What a view, Lu thought; it must be a place where immortals visit. He hastened his steps and felt he had made a wise decision. Anyone who lived in that majestic temple would enjoy longevity and happiness. Yes, he said to himself, go there, and forget the hubbub and turmoil at home.

At once his body became light, as if he were flapping a pair of wings through the air. Within half an hour he stood at the front entrance of the temple, striking the wooden gate and shouting, “Open the door!”

After a short while a noise came from inside. He heard someone coughing and shuffling to the entrance. Beyond the high stone wall flickered the light of an oil lamp. “Who’s there?” an old man’s voice asked.

“Master,” Lu said, feeling his heart in his throat, “I came to study gods with you. Please open the door and let me in.”

“What do you really want in the middle of the night?”

“To be your disciple. Please open the door.”

With a screech a hole six inches square was revealed on the gate, and a column of light thrust out. Lu moved closer and saw the old monk’s chubby face, gray hair, smiling eyes. He had a large wart beside his crimson nose.

“Master, I want to be your student.”

“Young man,” the monk said, “1 do want to take a lot of students, but so far 1 don’t have any. I’ve no say in this.”

“Take me please, Master. I can read and write. I can work and cook.”

“Like I said, I want to, but I have no say in hiring.”

“Hiring? You mean I have to be hired?”

“Yes, employed. Everybody wants to be a monk all of a sudden. It’s like seeking employment. No, more than a job, it’s like going to college. A new monk is a cadre of the state, you know, the twenty-fourth rank, with a salary of forty-three yuan a month. Besides, you have food and clothes free and don’t have to stay here at night. You can even marry a woman if you want, and have your own home in a nearby village. Not a bad deal at all. Things have changed these days. We plan to receive many tourists, and the temple will be expanded. Anyway, I wish you good luck, young man.”

“Wait a minute,” Lu said. He put his sinewy hand on the opening and asked, “Do you know who I should talk to?”

“Your brigade leaders. You have to be elected by the commune members, I guess; or at least recommended by the Party branch. Good luck. I hope to see you here someday.” The opening was closed and the light disappeared.

As though struck by a thunderbolt, Lu dropped onto the stone steps and remained blank for a few minutes. Then he jumped to his feet, picked up the bundle, and was about to run back. No, he changed his mind, I can’t leave like this. The goddamn monk is sleeping inside while keeping me outside in the dank night. No, this is not equal. This is not socialism. I must leave him some work to do. Lu unbuckled his belt, pulled down his pants, and hunkered down, emptying his bowels right in front of the gate. After a few relieving moans, he fished for paper in his pockets, but couldn’t find any. Luckily, there was a piece of cornstalk lying on a step; he picked it up and cleaned himself with three strokes. He stood up and threw the stalk over the wall. “Keep it, you fat seedless monk,” he barked.

Even having left the pile of fresh excrement couldn’t cool him off. On his way back he swore continuously. Damn it, if you’ve bad luck, even a fart can sprain your back. Screw every one of them, including all the new monks. Someday I’ll ride the Wheel of Wind and Fire through the sky and burn down every home of those bastards. I’ll begin with Chu’s hut and stable. Burning, burning, burning, burn up every blade of grass!

When he arrived home the heavy dew of the small hours soaked him through. His teeth were chattering as he lit the lamp with a trembling hand. To his surprise, the note was no longer on the table. Holding the lamp, he searched about but couldn’t find it. Then he went into the kitchen and found the note lying on the floor. It must have been a wind that brought it here, he thought. No, what if it wasn’t the wind? What if those bastards have read it?

His hair stood up, and a mist rose before his eyes for a minute or two. He sat down on the bed, holding the corner of the dining table, shook his head, and sighed. He tried to collect his thoughts. Whether they’ve read this or not, I mustn’t stay. If they know of my trip to the temple and get hold of me, there’ll be a denunciation meeting tomorrow. My crime is doubled now. There’s no chance for clemency anymore. I must go, go far away.

But where can I go? To Uncle’s home in Green Village? No, that’ll get him into trouble. How about going into the Great Emperor Mountain for a while? But there are wolves and tigers in the forest. Too dangerous.

Then the idea of begging came to his mind. Yes, that’s it. I’ll go begging around. No, not “around.” I’m going to big cities, to Beijing and Shanghai. They say lots of beggars have gotten rich and carry thousands of yuan in their belts; they live in hotels at night, and only during the day do they beg in the streets. Yes, I’ll go to Beijing first. A wise man must read ten thousand volumes and travel ten thousand kilometers. Since I’m still young, it’s time to see the world and learn about our motherland and folkways. In Beijing, I’ll see all the palaces, the museums, the historic sites, and Tiananmen Square, the largest one in the world. It’s too bad that Chairman Mao doesn’t inspect Red Guards anymore, or I’d see his glorious face and his stalwart body on the gate tower as well.

How about Fulan and Leopard? I can’t worry so much. They won’t starve at home, will they? She can get everything from her parents. Once I have money, I’ll buy her a diamond watch. She’ll love it and look at it day and night with a broad smile. Then she’ll forget what I’ve done. Money and wealth can always turn a woman’s head.

“Today I feel unhappy at home, so I’m leaving for the capital,” he chanted rather cheerfully. But someday I’ll come back as a big official, whip every one of those leaders, and make them all kneel on the ground begging me for mercy. I’ll forgive none of them and have them all beheaded, even though they want to pay me a large ransom.

He thought of writing a short letter, but changed his mind and placed the lamp on the old note. Let them go to the temple to get me, he said to himself. By then, I’ll already have flown high and far.

Once he was outside the house, a constriction rose in his chest and tears came to his eyes. Revenge, he told himself. Someday I’ll wipe out all their clans and wash their homes in a sea of blood. With the bundle on his back he turned around and walked into the pale dawn.