Yan Lianke - Serve the People!

That particular evening, the suspicion that a trick had somehow been played on him was eating away at him. But when he thought back to his time with Liu Lian and to the many ways she'd been good to him, his memories of her marvellous body and smooth, flawless skin soothed his sense of wounded pride like a balm. As he shifted restlessly in bed, recollection of those intense, exhilarating days revived hopeless, romantic dreams, destroying his hard-won peace of mind. For an irrational moment, all that he had achieved so far-his distinguished army career, his imminent painless return to civilian life, the transfer of his family to the city together with the traumatic breaking up of the Division, paled into insignificance next to the euphoria he'd felt with Liu Lian. His longing to see her-just one more time-swept away everything in its path.

Late that night he plucked up courage. Creeping out of bed, he put his uniform back on and padded off in the direction of the Division Commander's house. But just as he was about to leave the barracks behind, a furious roar brought him to an instant halt.

`What the hell do you think you're doing?'

Turning around, Wu Dawang found his Captain standing only a few steps behind him. He couldn't be sure whether the Captain had been up and about anyway, or whether he'd been followed. Wu Dawang took refuge in the shadow of a tree, while the Captain stationed himself under a streetlamp, his face flushed with rage.

'Get back to barracks!' the Captain barked at him again, after a few minutes of this face-off. Wu Dawang obediently turned back toward his dormitory, past the Captain. As he drew level with his superior, the Captain spoke to him again, still reprimanding but in a gentler, more brotherly tone. 'You have to remember you're… the son of a peasant, while she-she's the Division Commander's wife. It's not as ifyou've been punished for whatyou did. The Commander's even fixed you and your family up with jobs in the city. What have you got to complain about?'

Wu Dawang paused.

`Go back to bed,' the Captain went on. `No one but me has guessed.'

Still Wu Dawang remained where he was, staring at his Captain.

`I was his Orderly before he became Division Commander, remember. D'you think I don't know why his first wife divorced him for a factory worker? Come on, Sergeant, have a sense of proportion: in three days' time, they're going to tell everyone left in barracks who's going to be demobilized and who's going to be transferred. While everyone else is going out of their minds with worry, here you are, moping about in your own fantasy world. Take a long hard look atyourself: is this the stuff a revolutionary soldier is made of? The wayyou are now, I have no idea why the Division Commander thought enough of you to make you his Orderly. And I can't understand what Liu Lian saw in you either.'

Wu Dawang thought back to the scene he'd stumbled upon three days ago in the Battalion Commander's room-to those five drunk, despairing officers, all former staff in the Division Commander's household. `Will our company be demobilized, too?'

`Maybe it will and maybe it won't,' the Captain replied. `But one thing's certain-you're not going to help matters by calling on Liu Lian.'

Bowing his head, Wu Dawang made his way back in silence.

From then on he confined himself to his dormitory, sleeping away his few remaining days in barracks. And, just as the Captain had said, three days later at noon, Wu Dawang received formal notification of his demobilization. Shortly afterward his immediate superiors called him in.

`Time to celebrate, I think,' the Political Instructor told him. `Guess where you've been assigned a job-the biggest factory in the city, The East is Red Tractor Factory. The manager there ranks higher than a Provincial Governor, or a Corps Commander.'

`Don't waste money celebrating with us,' the Captain cautioned. `Life is expensive in the city, so save whatyou can now. Off you go and pack. You're due to report to the factory the day after tomorrow, which means you'll need to catch a train today to get settled in before your first day at work.'

After this conversation — in truth, no more than a terse, one-way dispatch outlining the logistics of Wu Dawang's expulsion from barracks-the two officers helped him truss up his luggage.

Every last detail had been taken care of- urgently and meticulously, and far, far above Wu Dawang's head. The moment the details of his departure had been settled the Division even sent over a plentiful supply of cardboard boxes and wooden crates for his belongings and rope to secure them. Despite this note of almost unseemly haste, everything proceeded in a perfectly smooth, disciplined fashion. As Wu Dawang's train wasn't due to leave until 12:30 that night, his company laid on a lavish last supper for him, with a farewell meeting to follow.

After dinner the hundred-strong company all in full uniform-stayed on in the mess, perched on small stools. Once a few songs had been sung and a few quotations by Chairman Mao recited, the Political Instructor announced that Wu Dawang was receiving a special early discharge to take up a factory job in the city. The news was greeted with silent astonishment by the assembled company. Immediately afterward, the Head of Management-who, unusually, had come along to bid Wu Dawang farewell in person — gave public notice that the departing Sergeant was being honoured with the Third Order of Merit.

Through diligent study of The Collected Works of Chairman Mao, he read out, Wu Dawang had become an outstanding revolutionary thinker of excellent moral character. Thanks to his overwhelming success in putting theory into practice, he'd been awarded the unique accolade of Exemplary Servant of the People-the only soldier in the whole Division to be thus feted. Why, he asked rhetorically, was Wu Dawang being honoured with a state-allocated job? Because he Served the People with all his body and soul. It should be pointed out that none of them-not Wu Dawang, his Captain or his Political Instructor had known in advance that the evening's performance would end like this.

Finally, the Head of Management and the Political Instructor jointly exhorted the assembled company to learn from Comrade Wu Dawang's example, reminding their audience that the People only re membered and helped those who selflessly Served them. If they all gave something of themselves, as Wu Dawang had, the army would help them, just as they had helped Wu Dawang find a job that would enable him to continue making the utmost contribution to socialism.

Wu Dawang said nothing. Even when he got up to receive his badge of merit and the Political Instructor repeatedly asked him to address a few words to his audience, he merely bowed impassively to his comrades-in-arms, then turned to salute the ranking officers standing alongside him on the stage.

Formal festivities came to an end.

Back at the dormitory, he found his Captain sticking railway labels on the last of his luggage. He flashed Wu Dawang a bitter smile: `I'll be off soon myself,' he said. 'I've) ust had notice of my own demobilization. Everyone who worked in the Division Commander's house is leaving. We've only ourselves to blame: we said what we shouldn't have said. Or at least, someone said too much about the Commander and his wives, though I don't know how it got back to him.'

So that's what's behind it all?'

Another smile. `Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. I'm just guessing.'

Wu Dawang and the Captain stood facing each other, in silence, for some time.

As Wu Dawang's departure approached, a crescent moon rose in the sky and hooked itself precariously over a cloud. When the Management jeep pulled up to drive him to the station, his entire company came out to see him off: to shake his hand, to offer their congratulations, to wish him well. `As long as they keep us on in the army,' everyone seemed to want to say to him, `we'll all try and learn to Serve the People like you.' Wu Dawang had nothing to say to this; he merely shook hands and bid his farewells, until he'd taken leave of one and all and it was time to get into the jeep. He had been determined not to cry, but when the engine fired up his emotions finally got the better of him. As his last journey out of barracks began, the tears rolled down his cheeks.