Yan Lianke - Serve the People!

ALL WAS DRAWING TO A satisfactory conclusion.

Standing by the) eep were Wu Dawang's Captain, his Political Instructor and the Head of Management, who remarked gloomily that now they'd seen Wu Dawang off it would soon be his own turn. He was not yet forty, he said, and would have accepted a demotion happily enough if that would have kept him in the army, but he'd just heard he might be demobilized instead. He had to go and see the Division Commander and beg him to let him stay on. He paused, then smiled wryly at his two fellow officers. `It's every man for himself now. Finish the job off for me, will you? Make sure Wu Dawang gets to the station.'

Once the Head of Management had watched the car drive away, he walked straight over to Division HO. The jeep raced away, its headlamps coursing through the darkness. The moon had risen higher, illuminating the newly bare autumn trees into bleak silhouettes. No nightingales or cicadas disturbed the still night with their chirruping song. By now, lights-out had sounded and each company, hoping that a final display of perfect obedience might win them a last-minute reprieve, had dutifully fallen into a troubled sleep. The vast majority was blissfully unaware that within their very own barracks the final curtain was falling on an unlikely romance. Only the key protagonists and a few of the minor players in our story had any inkling that this microdrama was nearing its end. And, of these, none anticipated the desolate postscript to the affair that would sour the grand finale the army bureaucracy had choreographed.

The jeep sped by first one row of army buildings, then another, past trees and pylons that fell behind it as if felled by the dazzling, bladelike beams of its lights. Wu Dawang sat alone on one side, with the Captain and Political Instructor opposite him, making fussy small talk-had he checked his tickets, there was no time to spare, checking luggage in always took forever-before falling silent. All three men sank so deeply into private, melancholy thought that as the jeep passed by the senior officers' com pound, not one of them so much as glanced in its direction. But just as the jeep was about to leave the barracks, out of the corner of his eye Wu Dawang saw a first-floor light come on in Compound Number One-in Liu Lian's bedroom. It seemed to set something inside him alight, too, flooding his ashen face with colour. He looked back once, twice, at the light. Then, before it was too late, he shouted at the driver to stop.

He braked hard. `What is it?'

Ignoring him, Wu Dawang rummaged for something out of one of his bags, then jumped out of the vehicle and set off toward the house.

`Stop right there!' the Captain bellowed at him.

He did not stop, but he did slow down.

'If you go up to that house,' the Captain went on, at the same volume, you'll pay for it. You're not out of the army yet-your personal dossier's not going out until tomorrow.'

Wu Dawang halted.

The Political Instructor, however, smiled patiently at the Captain. `The Division Commander's still in the office,' he soothed. `Let him go and say good-bye, it's fair enough.'

The Captain fell silent. The Political Instructor leapt down from the jeep and accompanied Wu Dawang on his last walk to the Division Commander's house.

The two hundred metres between the main gate and the Commanders' Compound were far better lit than the rest of the road. Wu Dawang was still flushed, perhaps after his Captain's furious rebuke or in remembrance of the strange, compromised kind of love Liu Lian had offered him. As the two of them advanced, shoulder to shoulder, the Instructor delivered in a hushed voice a final philosophical lecture of a rather different kind from his usual offerings. In all the meetings and classes we've had together, I've told you nothing but lies and empty words. Now you're leaving, I might as well tell you the truth. At the end of the day, we're all here on earth to make our lives a bit better. A soldier born to a worker dreams of becoming an official; a soldier born to a low-ranking official dreams of becoming a highranking official; a soldier from the countryside wants to make it to the city. It might not be what we're meant to dream of, but that's how it is. And though climbing up one rung of the ladder might not sound much as an ambition, it ends up taking most people a lifetime. We both know the Division's going to the wall-almost everyone's going to be sent home. Which means almost everyone in barracks will lose any hope of realizing their dream. Whereas you-in less than three days you've achieved everything you ever hoped for. Remember that when you see Liu Lian this last time-keep yourself in check and make a good final impression. After all, you never know when you might need her to help you out of a tight spot in the future. Hey-are you listening to me?'

`Yes,' Wu Dawang finally replied. `You've no need to worry, Sir.'

They arrived.

After exchanging salutes with the sentry, they reached the entrance to Number One. The rules about lights-out were not as strict for the Commanders as for everyone else, and the Compound's six residences blazed with light while the barracks were sunk in darkness. The sound of singing drifted out from a radio into the night. Through the familiar iron gate, Wu Dawang could see the vine trellis. With only half its yellowed leaves still clinging to its twisted branches, the pale moonlight spilled through it onto the ground before the house like strips of torn white silk. The grapes had finished some weeks ago but a faint, sour-sweet scent of fruit still hung over the trellis. Wu Dawang inhaled deeply, as if wanting to hold the fragrance inside him. He was preparing to open the unlocked gate when the Political Instructor suddenly pulled him back. `I need your help with something,' he said.

The moon shone bright enough for Wu Dawang to notice the embarrassment on the Instructor's face.

Me, help you?'

`You're the only one who can.'

`I'll help if I possibly can.'

`I can see for myself that you have a special relationship with Liu Lian-you're more than an orderly to her. Just before you leave, could you ask her to speak to the Division Commander for me? You see, they told me today I'm going to be demobilized, and I need her to persuade the Commander to let me stay. In all my years in the Division, I haven't made a single mistake. I've been a model Political Instructor, I've won prizes for my work. I don't mind missing out on promotion, but I need to stay in the army another year or two-any company will do. By the end of next year I'll have been here fifteen years, which means my wife can join me whether I get promoted or not. I'll be completely straight with you: my father-in-law is the Head of Militia in his commune and he only let me marry his daughter because he thought if he sent me off to the army I'd be able to get her a job in the city. I had to write him a prenuptial guarantee, swearing that I'd do whatever it took. Help me out, Wu Dawang, get Liu Lian to talk to the Division Commander.'

Wu Dawang stared at him, too surprised by the similarity between the Instructor's marriage and his own to respond.

His superior smiled awkwardly. `I know I shouldn't have asked, but it was my last chance before you left. You go in and do whatever seems right. If she's got company, forget it, but if she's on her own, try and put a word in for me.'

Wu Dawang glanced across at the flower beds and noted that the flowers-the chrysanthemums and peonies especially-needed pruning. Some plants wanted cutting back to their roots in autumn so that they could store up food for the winter and shoot up again in spring. Before he could share this basic piece of gardening know-how with the Political Instructor, so he could pass it on to the new Orderly, they reached the front door. The Political Instructor stepped forward and announced that he was Reporting for Duty.