Jia Pingwa - Ruined City

“Why did you have to tell him that?” she complained. “He was already worried enough, and you’ve just made him feel worse.”

“Come out here, Jingwu,” Zhuang shouted.

Zhao returned. “Let’s talk about something else,” he said. “I’m getting a headache thinking about this all day long. Some other time, all right? Besides, when the cart reaches the mountains, a road will open up. Liu Yue, why don’t you give the dog a name?”

“How about Gou-wu, taking the ‘wu’ from Jingwu’s name?”

“Stop clowning around. We have serious matters to discuss.” Zhuang turned to Zhao. “We have to get ahead of the court. Let’s ask some of Xijing’s writers, critics, and professors of literature to come up with arguments and opinions for the court to influence the judge’s view. Don’t do anything else over the next few days. You and Hong Jiang go get Li Hongwen and Gou Dahai to start looking up writers, scholars, and professors. Use whatever means necessary, and act on my behalf to ask them to formulate opinions that collective generalization is acceptable in documentary works. I will give you a list of names. Some will have no trouble writing what we want, while for others it may not be that easy. Don’t force them. Maybe they can write something that says pretty much the same thing. As for those who refuse to write, just ask them not to write anything to prove Jing Xueyin’s points.”

He wrote out a list and handed it to Zhao. Zhuang had Liu Yue see him off, while he said to his wife, “Without me, a hundred people would not be able to do shit in this lawsuit.”

“Yes, you’re the best. You’re a hero at home, but afraid to show up in court. Let’s leave it at that and get some rest. I’m so exhausted I can barely move.”

Liu Yue walked Zhao to the main gate, where he said, “We can get spicy hot pot with lamb’s blood at the lane entrance. Let’s go, my treat.”

“You’ll get all sweaty eating something like that on such a hot day,” she said.

“Well, then, how about ice cream?”

“What’s gotten into you today to make you so generous? I don’t want anything. I’ll walk you out past the gate as a way of thanking you. How’s that?”

They walked out the gate, and stopped in a dark spot beyond the streetlight.

“Come over here, Liu Yue.”

“What for? It’s too dark there. I’m scared.” She walked over nonetheless.

“Look over there,” Zhao whispered and pointed. She looked to the spot, about ten meters away, and when she saw two people in a tight embrace in a dark corner, she lowered her head and giggled.

“Love fears neither darkness nor ghosts. Let’s get closer to hear what they’re saying.”

She poked him.

“You’ve learned some bad tricks, I see,” she chided him. “Go find yourself a girl on the street if you’ve got it in you. What’s the point in eavesdropping on someone else? You rascal.”

He surprised her by crying out and covering his face.

“Did I hurt you? Where? Your eyes?” She pried his fingers loose and looked at his face. He threw his arms around her and nibbled her tender face before taking off running. A taxi glided over from across the street and held her in its headlights for a moment, so alarming her that she pressed herself against the wall and spread her arms out. When the taxi drove off, she regained her composure and, to her amusement, saw that Zhao was gone. Everyone says Zhao Jingwu is a playboy , she said to herself. He’s actually a silly goose. Who else would run away after stealing a kiss? Her cheek felt sore. She rubbed it as she headed back to the compound, where the taxi stopped to drop someone off. It was Zhou Min.

“What were you doing there, Liu Yue? I spotted you when the headlights were on you.”

“You spotted me?” She tensed up. “What was I doing?”

“You looked lost there by the wall. I thought you were crying after fighting with Shimu. Are you all right?”

She laughed. “If she ever picks on me again, I’ll move into your house and never return. Why would I cry? I’m not like you, a grown man getting all weepy in court. Did you just come from the hospital? How’s Old Mr. Zhong?”

“Let’s go in and talk. Is Zhuang Laoshi home?”

They went in, but Zhuang and his wife were already in bed. Liu Yue went to knock on their bedroom door to tell them that Zhou Min was there. Niu Yueqing came out in her pajamas; Zhou walked into the bedroom to talk to Zhuang. Before he was finished, Zhuang got out of bed and was crying bitterly before he finished getting dressed. The hospital had run tests on Zhong Weixian, and they thought the old man had late-stage liver cancer. Balling up his fists, Zhuang shouted, “It’s all their fault, making him so angry he got sick. It’s the anger.”

He would have gone immediately to see the head of the Department of Culture if Niu Yueqing and Liu Yue hadn’t stopped him, telling him it was too late, that everyone had gone home.

“Sick as he was, Mr. Zhong made it to court, where he passed out,” Zhuang roared. “If he had died, we wouldn’t have been able to do a thing for him. I’ll go see the department head at home. How can they treat an intellectual like that? Is a job title more important than a man’s life?”

Niu Yueqing let him go. Zhou Min, for his part, was worried that the cancer meant that Zhong might not live long enough to make the second court hearing. If he was gone, the magazine would lose its influence.

Niu Yueqing was enraged by the comment.

“Why are you saying that at a moment like this?” she said. “Are you still hoping that Mr. Zhong will attend the second hearing? I’d rather see that he was misdiagnosed and that it was a false alarm, even if that made us lose the case.”

Knowing he had misspoken, Zhou Min quickly explained, “That’s not what I meant. I was just saying that Mr. Zhong has suffered a serious health issue before the case is resolved.”

Niu Yueqing quickly backtracked, for fear that Zhou might be unsettled by her tirade. “Zhao Jingwu just went to see the judge, and it looks like it’s in our favor.” She then updated Zhou Min on Zhuang’s preemptive measures to take care of the problem. He had recovered enough that he offered to go back to the hospital to watch over Mr. Zhong. Saying she would go with him, Niu Yueqing told Liu Yue to stay home to wait for Zhuang to return and then make him a bowl of soup. She hurried down the stairs with Zhou Min.

As promised, Zhuang went to the department head’s home, where he argued and pounded on the man’s desk, as if ready for a fight. Never realizing that Zhuang could be so combative, the man did his best to explain while trying to duck responsibility. He did offer to visit Zhong that night and take care of his medical expenses, including extra pay for the caregiving staff.

“What’s the point of visiting him if you can’t solve his real problem?” Zhuang asked. “You could hasten his death by showing your face.” He managed to scare the man enough that he went with Zhuang to see the four deputy heads. At four in the morning, he got the five of them to get together to work on a solution, reaching a decision that they would give Zhong Weixian the title of senior editor and report that to the provincial job certification office for final approval. It was only at this point that Zhuang shook hands and thanked them, at the same time asking their forgiveness for his brazenness. It was nearly dawn when he arrived home.

Later that day, around noon, all the mid-level officials from the Department of Culture visited Zhong in the hospital, bringing with them tonics and supplements. Niu Yueqing called Zhuang from the hospital to say that the patient was in a good mood after finishing a bowl of dumplings and walking around a bit. Putting down the phone, Zhuang called out for Liu Yue, who was pulled into his arms the moment she walked in. He laughed and kissed her. “I’m sweaty,” she said. She took a basin of water into her bedroom to wash up, then lay naked on her bed, but he did not come to her. Instead, he left for the Job Assignment Office to tell them what had happened, with the request that they make an exception when they received Zhong’s material and quickly conduct the review to approve the application. Then he called Niu Yueqing at the hospital and told her to help Zhong over to take the call.