“There’s no rush, you can get it later,” I said rather insincerely.
“I’m afraid I might forget.” And she hurried off to the back.
Big Sister Song is still so gracious, I thought, an old-style Beijinger.
At this point, a young guy walked in. He was the kind of young guy who would have all the girls chasing him-tall and muscular like an athlete. He was wearing white high-top sneakers. There is so much dust in Beijing that most men don’t wear white sneakers. He looked me over very confidently like he wanted to know who I thought I was, but then he said politely, “Hello. Are you…?”
“I’m… a friend of Big Sister’s.” The penny dropped. “You’re…” I was going to say “Little Xi’s son,” but for some reason I didn’t.
“Grandma!” The young man greeted Big Sister Song.
“Hey, you’re back. This is my grandson. This is Master Chen.”
I acted surprised. “Your grandson!”
“Master Chen, I’m Wei Guo.”
“Pleased to meet you. What a handsome young man you are.” We shook hands. I remembered that when I’d last seen this boy over ten years ago, Little Xi had told me he used her maternal surname, Wei.
“Master Chen is Taiwanese and an old customer,” Big Sister Song said about me.
“I don’t think we’ve ever met.”
“He used to come to the old place,” Big Sister Song explained. “Master Chen hasn’t been in Beijing for years.”
“Big Sister, I
Wei Guo didn’t ask me what district I lived in. Instead, he asked, “What do you do, Master Chen?”
“I’m a writer.”
This seemed to pique his interest. “What do you write?”
“Everything, fiction, reviews, criticism…”
“Criticism about what?”
“Food, drink, entertainment, cultural media, business management…”
“And what do you think about China’s current situation?”
This was turning into a cross-examination, so Big Sister Song broke in. “Stay here for dinner!”
“I’ve got something on tonight-maybe next time, Big Sister!”
“You two keep talking,” she said and went into the back room.
Wei Guo looked at me with a very steady gaze that bordered on intimidation.
I wanted to know why Little Xi said she could not talk to her son, so I said quite deliberately, “Today everybody says that no country is as good as China.” Little Xi had said this would sound like something her son might say.
“That’s right, quite correct. Ji Xianlin said the twenty-first century is the Chinese century.”
I decided to tease him a little. “Well then, what do you intend to do in this Chinese century?”
Most young people would act a little bashful before answering such a question, but Wei Guo did not hesitate. “Right now I’m in the Faculty of Law at Peking University. After I graduate, I’m going to take an exam to become a government official.”
“Do you want to be an official?”
“Yes, I do. The country needs talent.”
“Wei Guo, if you could choose, which ministry would you like to join?” I remembered Little Xi mentioning the Central Propaganda Department, and so I wanted to sound him out.
“The Central Propaganda Department.”
I hadn’t expected him to be so frank.
“Of course, one can’t just join the Propaganda Department, but it’s my ideal choice.”
“Why the Propaganda Department?” I persisted in this line of questioning.
“The people cannot rely just on material power; they have to have spiritual power, too, for the people to be united. Hard power is important, but soft power is equally important. I think the Propaganda Department is vital, but it’s not doing as well as it could; it could do even better.”
“How could it do better?” I asked. He seemed to have it all down pat.
“For example, they don’t understand the Internet and netizens well enough; they don’t really know about the trends in national youth culture. I could make a real contribution in these areas. I’m studying law and I could provide solid legal backing for the Propaganda Department’s policy decisions. That would contribute to the state’s ‘rule of law’ policy. Of course I’m still young and I have my immature and romantic idealist side-but I think the Department is very romantic and idealistic.” He began to look a little embarrassed.
“Romantic? Idealistic? What do you mean?”
“You’re a writer, you should know. The Propaganda Department guides the spiritual life of the entire nation.”
I begin to tire of this topic. “Do you ever have live gigs here?” I asked, gesturing toward the stage.
“New bands and some community groups play here every night. I gave Grandma the idea. All sorts of young people come here, and that gives me a chance to understand what they’re thinking and doing. If you don’t do any survey work, you don’t have any right to talk about anything.”
“In a place like this you’re going to have some bad elements mixed in with the innocent kids. Won’t that influence your future?”
“You underestimate our Party and our government. Everything is under the Party’s and the government’s control; they know everything.”
“Well, it’s been great talking to you, Wei Guo, but I need to get going.” He must have thought I was pretty backward.
“Have a good time in Beijing. Write more articles on the true face of China so our Taiwanese compatriots won’t so easily believe the Western media.”
I was about to ask him to tell his Grandma I was leaving, when she appeared.
“Leaving already?”
“I have some business on the Eastside, so I’d better leave early to beat the traffic.”
“Come back when you can and have some Guizhou goose.”
“Of course… You take care of yourself, Big Sister.”
As we shook hands, Big Sister slipped me a piece of paper. We both felt a little reluctant to part.
Just as I was reaching the door, Wei Guo turned to me with a cold look. “Master Chen, have you seen my mom lately?”
“No,” I lied.
He said good-bye politely, and I nodded back. I couldn’t help taking another look at his snow-white sneakers.
The year of Lao Chen’s zodiac sign
This year is the year of my zodiac sign, and a lot of strange things are bound to happen. Things like getting so worked up that I burst into tears, or like meeting Little Xi and Fang Caodi one after the other after such a long time-I think all these things are vaguely connected.
It’s been a long time since I’ve run into anyone so completely out of tune with the prevailing mood as Little Xi and Fang Caodi. Of course, China is a huge country and you can meet all sorts of different people. From the mid- 1980s, when I first came to the mainland, up until a few years ago, I knew quite a few dissatisfied people like them, but there are fewer and fewer of them now. I have not associated with such out-of-sync types since the global economy went into crisis and China’s Golden Age of Ascendancy officially began.
Let me describe for you the three types of people I most frequently come into contact with now:
The first type is made up of people like my cleaning lady. I hire only laid-off female workers who live in Beijing with their families. That’s because I’m away from home a lot and it makes me feel safer. My current cleaning lady’s daughter is a graduate and works for a foreign company, so her finances aren’t a problem, but she likes to keep
