CHAPTER XX

Ya-mei rushed out into the corridor with her husband's knitted pullover. They were taking him away for questioning.
They were waiting for the lift, Tsui standing between two policemen, two soldiers of the Liberation Army armed with rifles behind him. The old-fashioned elevator was slowly chugchugging up somewhere deep down in the building. Against the whitewashed wall of the shaft the heavy black iron chain swam downward perpendicularly, swinging a little from its own weight, in what seemed to be an endless flow. Then the deliberate swimming motion was stopped. The grill-door on another floor was slammed open and shut with two rattling clangs as nerve-wracking as acid eating into teeth. The chain continued its downward flow while the lift came slowly up.
Ya-mei pushed the brown knitted pullover into Tsui's hands. "Better take this along. It's so cold," she said loudly, not so much talking to him as excusing herself to his guards.

"All right," one of the policemen said. politely, taking the sweater away from. Tsui and carrying it for him. "Now that's that. He's got all he needs."
When she tried to get into the lift with them, they pushed her away. "No room- No room," they said-
The grill clanged shut in her face and she turned and ran, past one or two closed doors and the Culinary Officer's cubicle with its bright flash of wall pasted over with colored comics- She clattered down the cement staircase, for decades the back alley used by shroffs and barefoot coolies the foreign masters had not allowed to use the lift- The lofty cobwebbed grey-white ceiling pressed down on the quiet stale air of winter and disuse- Ya-mei tore down the last steps into the corridor of the floor below. The old lift was so slow that she arrived in time to catch a glimpse 'of Tsui's face behind the iron grill in the lighted cage as it gradually sank below the floor level. She could not tell if he had seen her-
Her flood of sadness seemed to be a kind of fulfillment, so that she suddenly had no strength left to race the lift any more. It went down, slowly pumping through the heart of the building. She stood outside the grill looking at the enormous black iron chain swimming upward, indolent with its great weight. She waited to hear the' chilling clang of grill-door when the elevator touched bottom. 'Then she pressed the button.
The lift came up empty. The liftman in his padded Liberation Suit glanced at her curiously. He was half smiling with fright and excitement but he refrained from asking questions. On the way down she looked at the back of his bowed head silhouetted against the alternating solid darkness and daylight behind bar's,
She went at once to find Liang Po, Tsui's best friend. Like Tsui he had been an officer in the Liberation. Army, but now he was the head of the Lu Chia Wan police station. He was not in his office when she called. But she wasted no time and went all over town seeing other friends. Both she and Tsui P'ing had had long Revolutionary Histories, so they knew quite a lot of people-
By the end of that day she had not found out anything. She went back to see Liang at his quarters. She had never liked Liang because her husband had almost got killed in battle several time saving Liang's life. That Liang had also saved Tsui's life more than once was another matter. She heard no end of it at home-
She had the idea Liang did not like her very much either. He. probably thought her too capable' and unwomanly, always pushing to the forefront of things. Though the truth was that she was too much a woman, always expecting all men to be a little attracted to her and resenting it if they weren't. But this evening as soon as she saw him and told him about Tsui, she broke down and cried as if he were her own flesh and blood
"Don't worry. Don't worry," the stocky, ochre-colored. little man said awkwardly. "It may be nothing- So long: as there is a single letter informing against you, they catch you and try to scare the truth out of you- Otherwise it'll seem undemocratic and they are afraid it will affect the enthusiasm of the Masses and the Masses won't come forward with charges- Why, that's one of the basic principles of the Three Anti's!"
She did not answer, gulping her sobs.
"Where have they taken him, do you know?" he asked.. "I've been all over town but I haven't found out a thing."
"Who did you see?" He looked at her mistrustfully from under knitted brows-
"Comrade Tseng of the People's Supervisory Committee. You used to know him too, didn't you? I also went to Old Fei of the Public Security Department."

"You know, you shouldn't be running round like this;" Liang said nervously. "Could be interpreted as a breach of discipline, you know — going round asking for special favors- And people might not like it, in a time like this when everybody has his own troubles. In the end it might do more harm than good."
Ya-mei stared at him, anger suddenly flaring up in her. "You're quite right. Everybody has his own troubles. Who can you count on to help in a time like this? Not a single soul," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "That's why Tsui P'ing is such a fool. Friends always come first with him. Ready to give up his own life even. Really not worth it!"
"This is no time to get bitter," Liang said frowning. `Only thing you can do is try to be cool. Keep to your own proper standpoint as a Party member and wait for the Party's decision. You know the Party will never punish anybody unjustly."
He sounded as if he had heard something, she thought. Tsui's case must be really serious. "Comrade Liang," she suddenly said, "If even you have washed your hands of him, then what hope is there?" Her tears came in a hot blinding rush. "I might as well die. I'll die right in front of you, Comrade Liang." Before he could stop her she was up and running toward the wall, ramming her head against it.
"Hey, don't! What is this? What for?"
"Let go of me!" She kept bumping her head against the wall, making a noise like stamping feet. "What do I want to keep my life for? What use is it to me? If my kids were here I'd dash them on the ground — I'd see that they died before me. You might as well get a knife and kill all of us. You might as well," she panted.
Struggling with him she slid to the ground and refused to get up. She rolled all over the floor weeping and yowling as if he were butchering her. "Ai-ya, Comrade Liang, why did you save him in the battle of Hungjao? What made you do it, Comrade Liang?" she wailed- •`If he died then we would have been a Glorious Army Family. What are we now, if he is to die now?"
"Get up, get up! What is this?" Liang said desperately. "Collect yourself, Comrade Chu. Are you a kan-pu of the Revolution or a country woman?"
That ought to have pricked her sensitive spot. But she no longer cared. It took three orderlies and a lot of promises to get her out of there into Liang's office car, which took her home. "Don't be so wild," Liang had said again and again. "Give me time- I'll try and get information — we'll both try. We'll keep in touch."
Within the week she had tried to kill herself in the office of almost everybody of any importance among her circle of acquaintances- Where she came from, women are the noisest suicides in the world. She was not afraid of alienating these people, knowing that she was not welcome anyway, even if she was on her best behavior- She came to them as a dangerous germ-carrier. They avoided her if they could, but once they came face to face with her they could not just "Pull their face down" and go all official on her. They thought she was impossible - putting on an, act too. But mixed with their exasperation and disgust there was, as often as not, a flash of genuine pity.
It had worked with Yuan„ the director of the Cultural Bureau. She had known him in the Old Area. In those days he had not been altogether indifferent to her charms. In his mild way, of course. He was a soft-faced, slender man wearing rimless glasses. She could see that he was rather shaken and that somehow quieted her and she started to tell him about Liang. She had not heard from Liang ever since their interview. And every time she went to see him he had been out.

`'And he and Tsui P'ing had been such friends. Always together ever since high school. They left college to go to Yenan together, and on the way Liang Po got dysentery. There were no doctors around, no medicine. He would have died if Tsui P'ing hadn't stayed up nights nursing him. For two months. Arnh," She paused to make this little affirmative noise as if she were her own attentive listener, in the style of leisurely storytellers. She was hoarse and pale with clear red circles around her eyes-
"When they got to Yenan they both entered the Resist-Japan University. After their graduation Chairman Mao sent them into the occupied areas, to be political workers in the New Fourth Army. Came the South Anhwei Incident — Arnh! That was when the New Fourth Army was almost wiped out by the Nationalists. "Tsui P'ing got a bullet in his leg and Liang Po stuck to him and looked after him. They were both captured and imprisoned in the Shang Jao Camp. Then when the Japanese came, all the prisoners were moved farther into the interior. There was a riot when they got to Red Rock and the prisoners broke away- Tsui P'ing was wounded in the riot. And Liang Po carried him, all the way from Red Rock in Fukien to the top of the Wu Yi Mountain between Fukien and Kiangsi. Arnh," she said evenly, looking blankly at Yuan-
"Then there was the Battle of Meng Liang Bang in 1947," she continued. "That time Tsui P'ing was a battalion commandos in the East China Field Army. Liang Po was the political instructor in his battalion. Liang was wounded at the front. Tsui P'ing crawled, up under fire to carry him back to shelter. Arnh. It was a near thing. For both of them."
"Then in 1949 when Shanghai was being Liberated, they each led a battalion entering Shanghai through
Hungjao. Arnh. This time it was Tsui P'ing who was wounded and Liang Po who helped him."
She was silent for a long moment, looking straight at Yuan. "That's why I can't understand- How is he ever going to face Tsui P'ing again, after this? Is he so sure he'll never see him again?" she said, suddenly starting to cry.
Yuan did not say anything. Then quite abruptly he said, "Don't go to Liang Po again."
She looked at him quickly- "Why?" When Yuan did not answer she whispered, "Please tell me. Please."
"Well, it's no use pestering him if he doesn't want to help," Yuan said irritably. Then he changed his mind and added a little sheepishly, "Besides, according to what I heard, he's the one who wrote the letter informing against Tsui P'ing."
Her lips moved with a checked exclamation. After a moment of reflection she asked in a low voice, "What did he say in the letter?"
"Talked a lot about their old friendship. What you told me just now," Yuan smiled slightly. "He negated it, said it was Petty-Bourgeois Gratitudism. He gave a very full account — exact dates of every time they saved each other's life, and everything."
"But what for?"
"To show what a great sacrifice it was to inform against him, I suppose. Otherwise people might think it's just a friend — not like a brother or a father, or even a brother-in-law."
"What did he accuse him of?"
((I can't remember all the items. Smuggling, among other things. Sending soldiers under his command to smuggle dope."
"Tsui P'ing never did anything like that," she said quickly.

He said just as quickly, "Then you needn't worry. They have to have proof."
She said after a slight pause, "But how was it they just arrested him without going through discussion and criticism t' an - pai? I thought those were the usual procedures."
"Yes, it is rather irregular." Then Yuan said carelessly, .moving some things around on his desk, "Tsui P'ing hasn't offended anybody, has he?"
"No." Then she said, "Not that I know of. Do you mean — I mean, do you think somebody else is at the back of this?"
Yuan lifted the area around his eyes very slightly, disclaiming all knowledge and expressing some doubt.
"Maybe it's just that Liang Po knows Tsui P'ing has done something to offend somebody, so he's doing this to please whoever it is," she speculated. "Maybe Tsui P'ing told him himself," she said with bitter triumph. "That would be just like him, telling his friend things that he kept from his own wife. Now he would feel sorry. If he only knew."
"All this is guesswork," Yuan said, suddenly brisk. "Now the reason I told you this is for your own protection. The main thing is to be calm, And keep away from Liang. It won't do any good to denounce him or anything. I know you're not frail and emotional like ordinary women. I can trust you not to tell anybody about this. In your own interest."
He was already sorry for his indiscretion, she thought. It was not serious enough for her to blackmail him with it, but still she pressed her advantage and extracted from him a promise to speak to one of the leaders of the Three Anti's.
After that day she continued to go around haunting
her influential friends, making Yuan's office her chief port of call. There was always a sense of achievement just in going her rounds, forcing her way into people's presence, making them listen to her. Even when two men from the Public Security Bureau called, trying to stir her up against her husband and produce proof of his guilt, she harangued them on his innocence with tears and supplication, turning the interview into an opportunity. They did not come again after the second time.
One afternoon she came home exhausted. He, the Culinary Officer, on hearing the lift, emerged from his cubicle. He came lumbering up to her in his washed-out padded, uniform. Because it was cold his hands were curled up inside the narrow sleeves, peasant fashion, so that the two thick pipes of dangling arms made a gentle arc on either side of him. He was either very afraid of her or frightened of being seen talking to her, or both,
"Comrade Chu," he said. "Some people came just now from the Public Security Bureau. Told you to go and get the clothes and things back. Said the execution took place this morning."
As she walked toward her room she saw a coolie sitting astride the window washing it at the end of the corridor. The glass pane shone dazzling bright in the sun. The dark rag the coolie was using to wipe it and the tin pail on the floor filled the air with an odor of dampness. From out the window came the whirring hum of trams and the sound of school bells. The world seemed to be going on as usual.
In her room the desks were in the sun, showing up the white bloom of dust on the two black telephones. Nobody had rung up for some time now, and people could no longer be reached on the phone. The telephones' silence forbade and stifled and absorbed all noises in the MOM. She closed the door inaudibly when she came in.

The amah was trying to hush the older child who was whining for something but it all sounded very faint-

She threw herself face downward on the bed. She could not hear herself crying, as if she was on a padded door between life and death. Gripping the counterpane in one hand she banged the bed weakly, beating on the soft, thick, heavy door.