The Civil Servant's Notebook Part 14

I'd paid special attention to what happened to Huang Xiaoming. I asked Cat to keep a quiet watch on him as well. For some reason, I felt guilty about him. I thought about early on, how we'd competed for the position of Peng's secretary. I might have got it if I'd held out a little longer. Then it would be me who'd have been swept up. Luckily, my father saw from the beginning that Peng Guoliang was a bad egg and resolutely opposed my becoming his secretary. Not only that, but I also made secret use of Hu Zhanfa to 'help' Huang Xiaoming achieve his goal smoothly. That's why, after Huang Xiaoming was released from detention, I hadn't the courage to call him. Luckily, he hadn't gone in deep, which was to say he'd held himself back carefully, neither gambling himself nor holding the wallet as others gambled. He hadn't even gone abroad with Peng Guoliang. At first the investigation team was going to label him 'suspect six' and use him as an entry point to break open the case, but after a little more research they found that Huang Xiaoming was a fellow traveller but not a partner in crime. They were surprised and impressed, so Huang Xiaoming was restored to freedom.

When Peng Guoliang's case first broke and everyone learned that Cat was my girlfriend, rumours flew thick and fast, and I felt a little sheepish, as if it had been I and not her who'd gone undercover. Some cursed me for a turncoat behind my back, and others flat out called me a traitor. At any rate, the general consensus was that my character was flawed. Luckily, the news that I might replace Song Daoming as Mayor Liu's secretary started soon after, and those who had pointed accusing fingers behind my back began to bow and sc.r.a.pe when they saw me. That taught me no small lesson in human nature.

I saw my impending position as Mayor Liu's secretary as a kind of escape, because he called himself a puller of the great s.h.i.+p that is Dongzhou. Boat-pullers are always going against the flow. Only by doing so is it ever possible to find the source of the river. I like that kind of life. It is reminiscent of Columbus discovering the New World, particularly since Mayor Liu's label for himself was a humble one. In fact, he was the captain of the great s.h.i.+p of Dongzhou. As his secretary, even if I were forced to descend into h.e.l.l, I would end up in heaven. But someone like Mayor Liu would never descend into h.e.l.l. At the very worst, he would take a turn through purgatory before ascending to heaven. This was why I wanted with all my heart to follow him. Seen this way, I was far more fortunate than Huang Xiaoming.

The worst thing in politics is to end up following the wrong man, and that's what happened to Huang. The worst thing in love is to fall for the wrong person. Ou Beibei had fallen for the right person, but then got divorced. She'd always thought that she'd fallen for the wrong person when in fact the problem was that her inner world had been distorted by power. Once the vanity shut up in her heart was set loose, it was bound to derail the progress of love. Ou Beibei had always been proud of her beauty and was ashamed of having married a small man. She wanted honour from a powerful husband and was possessed by envy of any woman who had married better than she. From this, avarice was born, and the decision made to exchange her beauty for wealth and honour. Fate seemed to be mocking her, forcing her to reap what she sowed.

How much worse her suffering must have been than that of Huang Xiaoming, though luckily there is repentance and hope. I believed that even w.a.n.g Chaoquan, now known as a hero of counter-corruption and anti-terrorism, couldn't be happy. His soul is also suffering in purgatory; perhaps it will meet Ou Beibei's in the earthly paradise at the top of the mountain.

I thought about this because although w.a.n.g Chaoquan was outstanding as a counter-terrorist agent and anti-drug hero, he wasn't fit to be anyone's husband. I believe that if a man can't bring happiness to the woman he loves then he shouldn't marry her. Ruining a woman's happiness is a man's greatest shame. I thought w.a.n.g had to feel the same way, otherwise he wouldn't have remained so calm in the face of Ou Beibei's infidelities, or fought against the divorce. I'd heard Ou Beibei say that she had forced him to sign the divorce papers, and I could understand how she was feeling at the time. She was still hoping for something from Peng Guoliang, and she hadn't yet discovered that to someone like him, she was nothing more than a few nights of pleasure. The stronger the desire for power, the stronger the desire for possession, and when the road to power is blocked, the desire for it is often sublimated into the need to possess women. A strong desire for possession is an incurable illness common to all who wors.h.i.+p power.

Although w.a.n.g had a secret ident.i.ty, the life he gave Ou Beibei was mundane, even mediocre, which eventually put Ou Beibei onto the wrong path. His sudden transformation into a hero was unfair to her. No wonder Ou Beibei came to the office every morning with eyes swollen from crying when everyone around her was abuzz with the news of w.a.n.g's real ident.i.ty.

From Ou Beibei my thoughts turned to my own fiancee Shang Xiaoqiong. This woman with the cat-like nature seemed fated to chase after me, her 'rat'. I didn't know why I was so willing to submit to her, to become her prey. All I knew was that I was the weight she longed to bear. The greater my weight, the more content she felt. Amid her contentment I not only found love, but also the meaning of life. Without Cat I would be unable to face Mayor Liu with self-a.s.surance. It was her secret investigation of him that showed me exactly what he was made of. I'd never understood why he demanded that a sign reading 'Serve the Citizens', not 'Serve the People' as is usual, be hung in the Munic.i.p.al Government Standing Committee meeting hall. It was Cat's investigations of him that showed me that he was trying to educate the officials, to tell them the so-called 'modernisation of people' was the transformation of 'people' into 'citizens'. It was also under Cat's direction that I made use of Hu Zhanfa's trust in me to steal the copy of the The Civil Servant's Notebook from his home. That, with the addition of w.a.n.g Chaoquan's recordings, instigated the largest political earthquake in Dongzhou's history. And that, in turn, was what let me walk into Mayor Liu's villa with confidence.

Of course, when I first discovered that Cat was working undercover in the Janitorial Brigade, I felt a certain excitement. I'd been kept down too long. I hated a life as leisurely as that in the sanatorium atop the mountain. I yearned for thunder and wind and pa.s.sionate emotion. More importantly, Cat needed someone to work with her. I was the obvious choice, and I did it willingly. The reason for my excitement was that I knew that whatever Cat discovered, I could turn it into political capital, and perhaps even change my fate.

Working in politics was akin to playing the stock market: a certain minority was always able to rely on its superior vision to make wise investments, while the majority followed blindly. An even smaller minority believed itself highly intelligent, when in fact they were stupid in the extreme. They s.n.a.t.c.hed up stocks that everyone else saw as junk, losing the s.h.i.+rts off their backs or their entire households in the process. Some even lost their lives.

Official word soon came down that Yang Hengda would be promoted to Vice-Director of the Munic.i.p.al Government. Because of the fierce compet.i.tion for the newly vacated position of standing vice-mayor, it was unclear who would succeed him as head of Number Two. He was therefore obliged to temporarily fill both his old and new roles, though he had already moved to new and s.p.a.cious offices. Only Ou Beibei and I were left in the office, and since Xiao Furen had prohibited my taking on additional responsibilities until I was officially promoted to Mayor Liu's secretary, I sat around the office reading chess manuals.

At noon my colleagues from the other combined affairs department came to play chess with me, and there was often a small crowd of spectators. Among them, some of the bigger mouths repeated the gossip of the day. Once, I would have chatted with them, but now I didn't say a word, focusing instead on my play.

Ou Beibei noticed this and gently mocked me. 'Dawei, you're awfully grumpy! I heard that in the Munic.i.p.al Government alone, more than twenty people want to be Mayor Liu's secretary, each of them with a strong background. If you just sit around and wait, some dark horse is going to upset you!'

It made sense, what she said, and I was definitely sick of waiting. My father said that if someone important needed their gla.s.s filled, you had to be the first to fill it if you wanted to succeed. I believed that I hadn't given my opponents the slightest opportunity. There might have been a lot of them, but I had filled my gla.s.s and put it right in front of Mayor Liu. I didn't believe anyone had the guts to go into his office and switch their gla.s.s for mine.

I remember something a Western politician once said: 'An honest politician is one who, when he is bought, will stay bought.' In politics, what besides honesty counts as loyalty? I believed in Mayor Liu's honesty, not only because I'd received his promise, but also because I was the best choice.

Eventually Song Daoming was promoted to Oldbridge District as the Vice-Secretary of the District Party Committee and acting District Chief, and the public discussion again focused on who would replace him as Mayor Liu's secretary. Names were floated and dismissed. Of course, my name appeared most regularly. Every day, Ou Beibei would relate to me what people had been saying, and I spent a week in terror of public opinion. When I came to work one Monday morning, Ou Beibei told me that she'd just received a phone call from Xiao Furen, telling me to see him in his office. I was seized with anxiety. It seemed impossible that they'd already made a decision. I steadied myself and went into Xiao Furen's office.

Sure enough, the moment I was inside he told me the good news: at Mayor Liu's direction and by decision of the Munic.i.p.al Party Committee, I would be serving as Mayor Liu's secretary.

The moment the words were out of his mouth I experienced an exhilarating sense of pleasure. Then Xiao Furen told me a joke that made me think.

In ancient times there was a forgetful bailiff who was charged with escorting a monk who'd committed a crime to the prefecture seat for judgment. Before they set off, he worried that he would forget something, and so he made himself a little ditty: 'Umbrella, shackles, and robe; doc.u.ments, monk, and me'. The whole way, he repeated this ditty like one possessed, terrified that he would lose something along the way and be unable to fulfil his duty. The monk, seeing his strange behaviour, got him drunk while they'd stopped for a rest, then shaved the bailiff's head, placed his own shackles around his neck and scampered off. When the bailiff woke, he felt that something was missing. But the umbrella, robe and doc.u.ments were there, as were the shackles around his neck. And when he rubbed his head and found himself bald, he knew the monk was there too. But he still felt something was missing, and so he recited his ditty and suddenly shouted in a panic, 'Me! Where am I?'

I wanted to laugh but I held it in. Xiao Furen told me to think carefully about the meaning of the joke, and instructed me to go report to Mayor Liu's office.

I thanked Xiao Furen, feeling that a great burden had been lifted from me, and went proudly forth from this office. That moment marked a new beginning for me, but I would never become that bailiff, much less the monk. I was myself, my own master!

The Name Card.

I'VE DISCOVERED A secret: the higher the official position, the spa.r.s.er the text on the name card. The converse is also true: the lower the position, the more is written on the card. There's a new trend among cadres of bureau-level and above: adding the t.i.tle 'master's student' or 'doctoral student' to their card, demonstrating the depth of their educational background. Some even add 'visiting professor of such-and-such university'.

An actual professor once asked for a meeting with Liu Yihe, Mayor of Dongzhou, and the name card he pa.s.sed over had more than ten t.i.tles on it, printed in tiny type. Mayor Liu looked it over at length and exclaimed, 'A mere professors.h.i.+p is an insult to someone of your qualifications!'

Even better is the abbot of Ci'en Temple, whom Zhao Zhong introduced to Mayor Liu. They met and the monk presented his card, which read not only 'Abbot of Ci'en Temple in the Western Hills', but also 'Member, Standing Committee of the Dongzhou Munic.i.p.al Political Consultative Conference'.

Why do people take the name card so seriously? The reason is simple: everyone wants to be able to boast of their status. No good things come to those of mean stature. This is why we call those with honour and power 'big men', and the ineffectual and powerless 'little people'. You can see how the humble little name card reflects the broader world beyond it. The card represents an entire life. Without our social status to prop us up we'd all retreat into insignificance. Thus, an individual's power and prestige are his most essential and personal belongings. So how does one show off these belongings to strangers?

Simply print yourself a box of name cards.

People a.s.sume that name cards came into use where social interaction was common. But my master Zhu Dawei, who has been promoted to secretary to the Mayor of Dongzhou, was browsing history books recently and discovered that as early as the time of the Qin Emperor people had begun writing their names down on cards to hand over during visits and meetings. But paper was not in use then, so they wrote them on slips of bamboo.

After Cai Lun's invention of paper, the bamboo slips were gradually replaced by paper cards, following which they were referred to as 'names' or 'name papers'. After the Tang and Song Dynasties, with the appearance of the bureaucratic cla.s.ses, they were called 'doors'. During the Ming and Qing, another kind of card, used by subordinates when meeting their superiors, or students when meeting their teachers, were called 'hand books'. In the Republican era, China began to have large-scale commercial contact with the West, and the Western-style name card appeared. These Western cards were manufactured according to the golden ratio. Westerners believed that the rectangular shape produced by the golden ratio was the most beautiful. Thus, Chinese, too, began shaping their name cards according to the ratio.

Since entering the Munic.i.p.al Government, Zhu Dawei had longed for a name card he could be proud of, but as he was merely a director-level researcher, which wouldn't look very eye-catching on his cards, he'd never bothered to have any made at all. But now he was secretary to the Mayor, and in urgent need of name cards appropriate to his station. At Ou Beibei's suggestion he visited the 'Master of Name Cards', a print shop favoured by Dongzhou civil servants.

As Zhu Dawei entered he greeted the proprietor, who was of middling build, around fifty years old and dressed in black Tang-style attire. His eyes were small, his nose broad and flat, his lips thin, and he had a long black beard. He looked much like a fortune teller.

Zhu Dawei said, 'I've heard that name cards from this shop are popular with civil servants. Perhaps there's some secret to them?'

The owner said with satisfaction, 'I wouldn't call it a secret, but it's true. Everyone from the Mayor to the department heads buys cards here. False modesty aside, our print shop is not only the most technically advanced, but we also provide the greatest selection. We not only have regular printed name cards, but we also have all the waves of the future: laser colour printing, colour photographic printing, electronic name cards, digital cards and more. What kind would you like?'

Zhu Dawei said meekly, 'Sir, I'm only a common civil servant. Perhaps I'd better look at the printed name cards.'

The owner said, not without pleasure, 'We have an enormous variety of printed name cards: gilded, coloured, scented, folding . . . The choice is yours. Particularly popular with civil servants these days is this colour folding card, as well as the model with gold and silver lettering. Some bureau chiefs are partial to the luxurious look of the gold leaf card. But for an up-and-coming young lion such as yourself, I would recommend our exclusive fengshui card. It was precisely this fengshui card that made us so popular with you civil servants. I do not exaggerate when I say that each and every fengshui card is a protective talisman. A box of one hundred means one hundred times the protection.'

Zhu Dawei was amazed to learn that a mere name card could have fengshui. He wanted to hear more, and said with feigned earnestness, 'No wonder this shop is called Master of Name Cards. Could it be that the owner is a fengshui master?'

The owner winked craftily and said, 'The art of making name cards, my friend, works according to this simple principle: everyone wants their card to make a lasting impression and create a favourable reaction, a sense of admiration and even longing. No one who catches a glimpse of your card will ever forget you. But in actuality, that is not the card's most important function. A fengshui card will attract luck and repel calamity, bring success in your career and happiness to your home. It makes use of the heavenly trunk and earthly branches, yin and yang and the five elements, the Book of Changes and Eight Trigrams, all to enhance the bearer's innate characteristics. A card with a highly unusual layout, it employs principles of unity between heaven and man, its primary and secondary hues chosen according to the indications of the five elements found in the eight characters of the hour of his birth. That same balance of elements is used to determine the proper typeface, colour and placement of the name, t.i.tle and telephone number. This sort of card creates the greatest influence when it is handed out, leading to further harmony between celestial timing, earthly luck and human harmony.'

The proprietor's words came in a torrent, and Zhu Dawei listened with a measure of scepticism, thinking, no wonder this print shop is so successful. There are secrets concealed here. It must be the fengshui cards that draw the civil servant trade. Who wouldn't want their career to prosper and their position to advance?

But seeing is believing. Zhu Dawei wanted to know who had been promoted or gotten rich because of their fengshui cards.

He asked craftily, 'What proof do you have for all this?'

The owner could tell Zhu Dawei was hooked, and pa.s.sed him a large booklet of beautifully designed name cards, saying, 'You're in the Munic.i.p.al Government, friend, and you must know some of the people in here. This gentleman, for instance, was only vice bureau chief of the human resources department when he arrived here. After using my fengshui name cards he was soon promoted to bureau chief, and is now vice department head.'

Zhu Dawei said, 'I know this man well, but I don't remember anything special about the name cards he had when he was vice bureau chief.'

The owner laughed. 'They were very special indeed! The element of wood was lacking from his eight characters, and I employed brown and grey-green, colours belonging to wood, in the design. The characters were all black, which belongs to water, and water gives rise to wood. I chose a long and narrow typeface based on the songti font, which has characteristics belonging to wood, and can strengthen that element. As for the placement of the name, I chose the location of the Xun trigram, also belonging to wood. These four decisions combined to completely counteract his lack of wood. The five elements now in balance, his career naturally took off.'

Zhu Dawei paged through the booklet and caught sight of Yang Hengda's name cards. He asked, 'And do you mean to say that this Mr Yang was promoted from department head to a Vice-Director of the Munic.i.p.al Government with the help of fengshui cards too?'

The owner replied, 'But of course!'

These plain-as-day examples served to win Zhu Dawei over.

Just as he was flipping through the booklet and considering whether or not to tell the proprietor the eight characters of the hour of his birth, he caught sight of the name cards of Peng Guoliang, Wen Huajian, Chen s.h.i.+ and Hu Zhanfa on the last two pages. They were clearly fengshui cards they'd had made before they were detained, and as Zhu Dawei stared at the cards he chuckled. The owner, uncomprehending, looked at him curiously. Zhu Dawei pointed with silent significance at those few name cards and the owner, suddenly understanding, instantly flushed red.

Zhu Dawei closed the booklet and said with a smile, 'Thank you for all this information; I feel I've really learned quite a bit. Since you claim to have the greatest variety and choice of name cards of all print shops in Dongzhou, you've probably got environmentally friendly name cards, yes? I'd like two boxes of "green" cards.'

The owner knew that he'd embarra.s.sed himself. Hoping to dispel the awkwardness, he enthusiastically pa.s.sed over paper and pen, saying, 'Of course we do! Made with the best recycled paper. If that's what you'd like, my friend, please write down your name, position and telephone number here.'

Zhu Dawei wrote, 'Zhu Dawei, Secretary to the Mayor of the Dongzhou Munic.i.p.al Government'. When the owner saw that his eyes widened and he said flatteringly, 'The world belongs to youth, truly it does!'

Zhu Dawei studied the words 'Secretary to the Mayor'. He felt something was amiss. With some reluctance he crossed out the words 'to the Mayor' and left only 'Secretary'.

Mayor of Dongzhou, Liu Yihe.

WHEN I FINISHED reading Huang Xiaoguang's reportage piece, 'Conversations with Peng Guoliang's Soul', in the Qingjiang Daily, I felt as though a heavy stone were pressing on my chest, choking off my breath. That stone was none other than the boulder that Sisyphus pushed up the mountain with such back-breaking effort, only to see it roll back down again. The boulder was corruption itself, and everyone who hated and fought it was Sisyphus. So who were the G.o.ds he had offended?

Without a doubt, the G.o.ds were the backward system. Those who fought corruption couldn't help but offend the old system, precisely as Sisyphus had offended the G.o.ds. Qi Xiuying was just one Sisyphus among many, and I was no different. But the old system did not permit you to stop supporting it, just as the drafts of the speeches that I delivered at meetings had been marked by the secretary: 'applause here', 'warm applause here', and 'sustained applause here'.

The old system was spurred on by precisely this 'hearts surge as applause swells' sort of cliche. The most fundamental tool of the counter-corruption effort was reform of the system, the equivalent of turning applause into pure noise. But 'sustained applause here' had long ago become a legally mandated form of democracy, and it could not be challenged. Without challenge, however, the boulder of corruption would grow larger and larger. Someone needed to be Sisyphus, to continually roll the boulder uphill even though it was bound to roll back down every time. But so long as we persisted, we might be like Sisyphus and find a new meaning within our lonely, painful, absurd and despairing lives. As Sisyphus pushes it, the boulder takes on a certain beauty, and the energy of his struggle is as graceful as dance. Lost in this pleasure, Sisyphus feels no more suffering, and once the boulder no longer causes him suffering, it will never again roll down from the mountaintop. Thus, Sisyphus becomes stronger than the boulder itself, and he finds that the struggle to conquer the peak is enough to satisfy his soul. That's the myth of Sisyphus. It will also be the myth of the counter-corruption effort. In that myth, Peng Guoliang's soul will no longer fear the light, and he will see the firm gaze of Sisyphus, looking up at the boulder from the bottom of the mountain.

That is what welled up in my heart after reading Huang Xiaoguang's article. Some people wondered if Peng Guoliang's case would implicate the entire government of Dongzhou, perhaps even me. I needed to consider it carefully. Without a doubt, Peng Guoliang's corruption was shocking, and it had infuriated the people of Dongzhou and damaged the ma.s.ses' faith in their civil servants. It was perfectly natural that public opinion should turn against me as well. As the head of the Munic.i.p.al Government, it was not enough that I should keep my own nose clean. I needed to make sure that no one strayed. Achieving that while also moving the work of government forward required open-mindedness and magnanimity on my part.

Thinking back on Peng Guoliang's road to corruption, I saw that it was directly related to my own lack of tolerance and broad-mindedness. Our struggle began the day we both became vice-mayors. If I'd been a little more tolerant of him back then talked to him more, communicated better, helped him Guoliang wouldn't have strayed so far. After I became Mayor, in particular, the evidence of corruption in him and his cronies was obvious, but I did not put a stop to it in time, even enjoying a little subconscious schadenfreude, until Peng Guoliang was lost completely.

In Huang's article he quoted Guoliang as saying that I was someone who understood the darkness. Not only was I someone who understood the darkness, but I was practically a man of darkness myself. As Guoliang was sliding towards corruption, I did nothing to help him.

Now, after the case, the civil servants of Dongzhou seem to have contracted the post-counter-corruption blues. Some departments are adopting the 'inactive' strategy of 'a smiling face, an open door, but nothing doing', and work efficiency has dropped off dramatically. Discussing the cause of this, some civil servants lump 'being corrupt' in with 'getting things done', thinking that if you were going to make an omelette, you have to break eggs. This goes to show how little they think of themselves as public servants and how far they've strayed from the people. They think of nothing but their advancement, not the practical problems of the people, and they are responsible to no one but themselves. This is the shadow that Guoliang's case has cast, and if we are going to get out of that shadow, we have to reform from the ground up.

That's why the Provincial Party Committee convened an educational conference for all the Party and government cadres in Dongzhou. After the meeting, Qi Xiuying asked me to come by her office, saying she had a souvenir for me. I had hardly got through the door when she pulled a black notebook out of her desk drawer and handed it to me solemnly, saying, 'This is for you. keep it near you, as a warning bell!'

I flipped through the notebook and found that it was a copy of the The Civil Servant's Notebook that Guoliang had ordered Hu Zhanfa to write in my voice. Hu Zhanfa had kept this copy to hold over Guoliang's head, perfect evidence of the alienating effects of power upon the soul.

I put the notebook in my doc.u.ment folder and said, 'Comrade Xiuying, thanks very much for thinking of me. When it comes to the environment, the mistake we generally make is to pollute first and clean up afterward, usually at a high price. If we do the same thing in politics, the price will be even higher! The counter-corruption effort isn't a simple process of eliminating corrupt officials, but of establis.h.i.+ng flexible and uncorrupted inst.i.tutions. Thus, we should be turning 'counter-corruption' into 'corruption-prevention', and establis.h.i.+ng inst.i.tutions and a system that inoculates civil servants against corruption from the beginning. Only then can we avoid tragic lessons like that of Peng Guoliang! Otherwise, any sudden campaign to sweep away corruption will only mean a curtain call for a few old corrupt officials and a hearty welcome for the new ones!'

Qi Xiuying was silent for a moment before saying, 'There's plenty we can learn from a case like Peng Guoliang's. What you said about switching to corruption-prevention sounds to me like 'an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure', but anti-corruption isn't simply dusting the corners, nor is it equivalent to managing the natural environment. The likely result of any radical counter-corruption revolution is the destruction not only of the corrupt parts, but the body as a whole, whereas a gradually progressing anti-corruption reform can pose grave risks. I've come to accept that this is a life-or-death battle we cannot afford to lose, no matter what the price. I have long been prepared to sacrifice everything, for no other reason than to let the people live beneath a clear sky.'

Though her words were encouraging, they were also melancholy, and I punctured her mood. 'You'll need a hero to fight giants, and the hero here must be healthy inst.i.tutions. The ancients tell us, "Officials must be removed 800 li from home". That's what's meant by inst.i.tutions. Your transfer from K Province to Qingjiang proves the wisdom of that saying. No one is born a villain; we must judge by intentions. Peng Guoliang truly did wonders for reform and opening up in Dongzhou, even though he became corrupt and has paid the price with his life. In the course of educating and making examples, we often place total responsibility on the shoulders of the individual, saying that he's relaxed his world view and his values, that he did not build a defensive line against corruption in his mind. This is not only irresponsible, but it also shunts responsibility. Frankly speaking, it defends a system that's rusted into immobility, and it demonstrates a lack of courage to innovate the system. If we'd had a good system, Peng Guoliang wouldn't have slid into the abyss of corruption. But in our munic.i.p.al team there seem to be many who have yet to understand that. Many of us are not corrupt ourselves, but take no action against it, and adopt a shortsighted 'apres moi le deluge' att.i.tude, or preside over 'peace preservation a.s.sociations' like the puppet organisations set up by j.a.pan during the War of Resistance. They even go so far as to believe that corruption can be a lubricant for a rusted system, and that without it, all market reforms will be suffocated within the walls of the old system. Thus, they decide to go easy on corruption, creating a situation where 'those with spoons may eat', and even proclaiming that the corrupt may avoid the sudden collapse of the old towers. You can't refuse to look in a mirror, much less smash it to pieces, just because you're ugly.'

Qi Xiuying's brow furrowed, and she said, 'Comrade Yihe, what you say reminds me of something that Mr Bo Yang wrote in The Ugly Chinaman and the Crisis of Chinese Culture: "In order to conceal a mistake, the Chinese will expend extraordinary effort in committing additional mistakes, all to prove that the original mistake was not in fact a mistake." That hit the mark. I've always thought that having the courage and strength to criticise yourself is the best measure of the true greatness and confidence of a nation.'

I carried my heavy thoughts with me as I left Qi Xiuying's office and got into my Audi. The car slowly proceeded out of the Provincial Party Committee gate, and I cast an involuntary glance over my shoulder.

I'd been in and out of that gate countless times, but I'd never noticed that the decorative screen wall bore the following four words in bright red: 'Seek Truth From Facts'. In the light of the setting sun, those four words shone with particular brilliance . . .

The Government Car.

IT'S NO BOAST: every civil servant dreams of possessing me. Why?

I am proof they have made it. I am a symbol of their status, their achievement, their success.

We often say that the 'grand wheel of history rolls forward', and ancient China was a nation of the wheel. When Confucius wandered from state to state he rode a horse cart, when our armies went to war they drove chariots, and up until the Wei and Jin Dynasties, the wheeled vehicle was the main means of transportation for officials and n.o.bles. Even so, the horse cart, ox cart, donkey cart and mule cart are not my ancestors, and neither am I descended from the sedan chair.

My true ancestor is the grand palanquin. Officials began using palanquins in the Tang Dynasty, and since the Song Dynasty, their size, shape and usage have been regulated. By the Qing Dynasty, central government officials of the third rank and above would be carried on a four-man palanquin inside the city, or an eight-man one when travelling beyond it. Members of the royal family were seen on palanquins carried by twenty or even thirty men. A man's status could be measured by how many men bore his palanquin.

But times have changed, and the palanquin has become the sedan car. Even children know that 'the rich drive a Benz, and the powerful drive an Audi'. Any official of bureau-level or higher is given a car. At a certain level it comes with a police escort.

So how did palanquins come to be translated into sedans? They say that at the end of the Qing Dynasty, when the Empress Dowager Cixi celebrated her sixtieth birthday, Yuan s.h.i.+kai spent ten thousand silver ingots on a German-made Benz as a present. The Dowager looked it over and felt that although it was clearly made of superior materials, it was little more than a dressed-up sedan chair. Fearing an imminent attack of imperial displeasure, Yuan s.h.i.+kai hastened to have the German driver demonstrate the vehicle's abilities, and Cixi was mollifed. She asked Yuan s.h.i.+kai what this foreign-made curiosity was called. Struck by inspiration, Yuan s.h.i.+kai invited her to name it. Observing that it was high in the middle and lower at front and back, like a sedan chair, Cixi decreed that it would be called a sedan car.

At that time the Empress Dowager was in the habit of riding a palanquin to various locations outside of Beijing. The first time she rode her Benz outside the Forbidden City, she discovered that her driver was none other than Sun Fuling, her old master of horse. He was seated at an equal height to her, and furthermore in front of her nothing less than an upset of the natural order of things. She insisted that he kneel while driving, and he had no choice but to obey, nearly resulting in disaster. Cixi was eventually persuaded by her terrified courtiers to emerge from the car and board her customary sixteen-man palanquin. While the sedan car itself was a failure, the name stuck.

'Raising someone's palanquin' has long been a term for sycophancy in China, though what was once a matter of physical strength now requires creativity and cunning. Those who 'raise the palanquin' are typically those closest to their leaders, most favoured, and most likely to benefit by their leader's good fortune.

Hu Zhanfa is one of the best palanquin raisers I've ever seen. I became Vice-Mayor Peng's car at the same time as Hu Zhanfa became his secretary. Mayor Peng had a penchant for seeing women. His official position, unfortunately, made it a bit inconvenient. After a week of racking his brains, Hu Zhanfa invented a 'face-changing' licence plate for me. When attending important official events I wore my special vice-mayor's plate, when going out for a meeting I 'changed my face' to a common civil plate, and on trips outside the city I was disguised as a People's Armed Police vehicle. Even more impressive was that these face changes were controlled electronically from within the car. At the press of a b.u.t.ton the licence plate would change. Vice-Mayor Peng was delighted.

One day when he was still Mayor Peng's secretary, Hu Zhanfa and Mayor Peng rode in with me together. I remember their conversation.

Peng Guoliang said, 'Zhanfa, simply sending The Civil Servant's Notebook to Qi Xiuying won't do. You should also spread some of your stories in the departments and offices of the city, and even let the common people hear them. You must learn to use public opinion as a weapon!'

Hu Zhanfa answered with a crafty, self-satisfied laugh. 'I'm planning to spread the "Miss Feifei" story around first, boss. It's a lively story, the kind that everyone wants to believe and likes to repeat. If it gets around, it will really put Liu Yihe's nose out of joint!'

Peng Guoliang asked darkly, 'That story's so lifelike, Zhanfa. Does Liu Yihe really have something going on with this Feifei?'

'He certainly does, boss,' replied Hu Zhanfa, almost giggling.

Peng Guoliang's eyes brightened and he asked, 'Do you mean it's more than just rumour?'

Hu Zhanfa replied, 'I'll tell you the truth, boss. Feifei is Liu Yihe's wife's pet dog.'

When he heard that, Peng Guoliang nearly died laughing.

end.