The people of Weizhuang felt easier in their minds with each pa.s.sing day. From the news brought they knew that although the revolutionaries had entered the town their coming had not made a great deal of difference, the magistrate was still the highest official, it was only his t.i.tle that had changed; and the successful provincial candidate also had some post"the Weizhuang villagers could not remember these clearly"some kind of official post; while the head of the military was still the same old captain. The only cause for alarm was that, the day after their arrival, some bad revolutionaries made trouble by cutting off people's queues. It was said that the boatman Sevenpounder from the next village had fallen into their clutches, and that he no longer looked presentable. Still, the danger of this was not great, because the Weizhuang villagers seldom went to town to begin with, and those who had been considering a trip there at once changed their minds in order to avoid this risk. Ah Q had been thinking of going to town to look up his old friends, but as soon as he heard the news he gave up the idea.

It would be wrong, however, to say that there were no reforms in Weizhuang. During the next few days the number of people who coiled their queues on their heads gradually increased and, as has already been said, the first to do so was naturally the successful county candidate; the next were Zhao Sichen and Zhao Baiyan, and after them Ah Q. If it had been summer it would not have been considered strange if everybody had coiled their queues on their heads or tied them in knots; but this was late autumn, so that this autumn observance of a summer practice of the part of those who coiled their queues could be considered nothing short of a heroic decision, and as far as Weizhuang was concerned it would not be said to have had no connection with the reforms.

When Zhao Sichen approached with the nape of his neck bare, people who saw him remarked, Ah! Here comes a revolutionary!

When Ah Q heard this he was greatly impressed. Although he had long since heard how the successful county candidate had coiled his queue on his head, it had never occurred to him to do the same. Only now when he saw that Zhao Sichen had followed suit was he struck with the idea of doing the same himself. He made up his mind to copy them. He used a bamboo chopstick to twist his queue up on his head, and after some hesitation eventually summoned up the courage to go out.

As he walked along the street people looked at him, but without any comment. Ah Q, disgruntled at first, soon waxed indignant. Recently he had been losing his temper, very easily. As a matter of fact he was no worse off than before the revolution, people treated him politely, and the shops no longer demanded payment in cash, yet Ah Q still felt dissatisfied. A revolution, he thought, should mean more than this. When he saw Young D, his anger boiled over.

Young D, had also coiled his queue up on his head and, what was more, had actually used a bamboo chopstick to do so too. Ah Q had never imagined that Young D would also have the courage to do this; he certainly could not tolerate such a thing! Who was Young D anyway? He was greatly tempted to seize him then and there, break his bamboo chopstick, let down his queue and slap his face several times into the bargain to punish him for forgetting his place and for his presumption in becoming a revolutionary. But in the end he let him off, simply fixing him with a furious glare, spitting, and exclaiming, Pah!

These last few days the only one to go to town was the Bogus Foreign Devil. The successful county candidate in the Zhao family had thought of using the deposited cases as a pretext to call on the successful provincial candidate, but the danger that he might have his queue cut off had made him defer his visit. He had written an extremely formal letter, and asked the Bogus Foreign Devil to take it to town; he had also asked the latter to introduce him to the Freedom Party. When the Bogus Foreign Devil came back he collected four dollars from the successful county candidate, after which the latter wore a silver peach on his chest. All the Weizhuang villagers were overawed, and said that this was the badge of the Persimmon Oil Party, equivalent of the rank of a Han Lin. As a result, Mr. Zhao's prestige suddenly increased, far more so in fact than when his son first pa.s.sed the official examination; consequently he started looking down on everyone else and when he saw Ah Q he tended to ignore him a little.

Ah Q, disgruntled at finding himself cold-shoudered all the time, realized as soon as he heard of this silver peach why he was left out in the cold. Simply to say that you had gone over was not enough to make anyone a revolutionary; nor was it enough merely to wind your queue up on your head; the most important thing was to get into touch with the revolutionary party. In all his life he had known only two revolutionaries, one of whom had already lost his head in town, leaving only the things over with the Bogus Foreign Devil.

The front gate of the Qian house happened to be open, and Ah Q crept timidly in. Once inside he gave a start, for there was the Bogus Foreign Devil standing in the middle of the courtyard dressed entirely in black, no doubt in foreign dress, and also wearing a silver peach. In his hand he held the stick with which Ah Q was already acquainted to his cost, while the footlong queue which he had grown again had been combed out a hang loosely over his shoulders, giving him a resemblance to the immortal Liu Hai. Standing respectfully before him were Zhao Baiyan and three others, all of them listening with the utmost deference to what the Bogus Foreign Devil was saying.

Ah Q tiptoed inside and stood behind Zhao Baiyan, eager to p.r.o.nounce some greeting, but not knowing what to say. Obviously he could not call the man Bogus Foreign Devil, and neither Foreigner nor Revolutionary seemed quite the thing. Perhaps the best form of address would be Mr. Foreigner.

I am so impetuous that when we met I kept urging, Old Hong, let's get down to business! But he always answerd a Nein!"that's a foreign word which you wouldnt understand. Otherwise we should have succeeded long ago. This just goes to show how cautious he is. Time and again he asked me to go to Hubei, but I've not yet agreed. Who wants to work in a small district town?...

Er"well" Ah Q waited for him to pause, then screwed up his courage to speak. But for some reason or other he still did not call him Mr. Foreigner.

The four men who had been listening gave a start and turned to stare at Ah Q. Mr. Foreigner too caught sight of him for the first time.

What is it?

I...

Clear out!

I want to join...

Get out! Mr. Foreigner raised the mourner's stick.

Thereupon Zhao Baiyan and the others shouted, Mr. Qian tells you to get out, don't you hear!

Ah Q put up his hands to protect his head, and without knowing what he was doing fled through the gate; but this time Mr. Foreigner did not give chase. After running more than sixty steps Ah Q slowed down, and now his heart filled with dismay, because if Mr. Foreigner would not allow him to be a revolutionary, there was no other way open to him. In future he could never hope to have men in white helmets and white armour come to call him. All his ambitions, aims, hope and future had been blasted at one fell swoop. The fact that gossips might spread the news and make him a laughing-stock for the likes of Young D and Whiskers w.a.n.g was only a secondary consideration.

Never before had he felt so flat. Even coiling his queue on his head now struck him as pointless and ridiculous. As a form of revenge he was very tempted to let his queue down at once, but he did not do so. He wandered about till evening, when after drinking two bowls of wine on credit he began to feel in better spirits, and in his mind's eye saw fragmentary visions of white helmets and white armour once more.

One day he loafed about until late at night. Only when the tavern was about to close did he start to stroll back to the Tutelary G.o.d's Temple.

Crash-bang!

He suddenly heard an unusual sound, which could not have been firecrackers. Ah Q, always fond of excitement and of poking his nose into other people's business, headed straight for the noise in the darkness. He thought he heard footsteps ahead, and was listening carefully when a man fled past from the opposite direction. Ah Q instantly wheeled round to follow him. When that man turned, Ah Q turned too, and when having turned a corner that man stopped, Ah Q followed suit. He saw that there was no one after them and that the man was Young D.

What's up? demanded Ah Q resentfully.

The Zhao... Zhao family has been robbed, panted Young D.

Ah Q's heart went pit-a-pat. After saying this, Young D went off. But Ah Q kept on running by fits and starts. However, having been in the business himself made him unusually bold. Rounding the corner of a lane, he listened carefully and thought he heard shouting; while by straining his eyes he thought he could see a troop of men in white helmets and white armour carrying off cases, carrying off furniture, even carrying off the Ningbo bed of the successful county candidate's wife. He could not, however, see them very clearly. He wanted to go nearer, but his feet were rooted to the ground.

There was no moon that night, and Weizhuang was very still in the pitch darkness, as quiet as in the peaceful days of Emperor Fu Xi. Ah Q stood there until his patience ran out, yet there seemed no end to the business, distant figures kept moving to and fro, carrying off cases, carrying off furniture, carrying off the Ningbo bed of the successful county candidate's wife... carrying until he could hardly believe his own eyes. But he decided not to go any closer, and went back to the temple.

It was even darker in the Tutelary G.o.d's Temple. When he had closed the big gate he groped his way into his room, and only after he had been lying down for some time did he calm down sufficiently to begin thinking how this affected him. The men in white helmets and white armour had evidently arrived, but they had not come to call him; they had taken away fine things, but there was no share for him"this was all the fault of the Bogus Foreign Devil, who had barred him from the rebellion. Otherwise how could he have failed to have a share this time?

The more Ah Q thought of it the angrier he grew, until he was in a towering rage. So no rebellion for me, only for you, eh? he fumed, nodding furiously. Curse you, you Bogus Foreign Devil"all right, be a rebel! That's a crime for which you get your head choppd off. I'll turn informer, then see you dragged off to town to have your head cut off"your whole family executed.... To h.e.l.l with you!

Chapter 9.

The Grand Finale

After the Zhao family was robbed most of the people in Weizhuang felt pleased yet fearful, and Ah Q was no exception. But four days later Ah Q was suddenly dragged into town in the middle of the night. It happened to be a dark night. A squad of soldiers, a squad of militia, a squad of police, and five secret servicemen made their way quietly to Weizhuang and, after posting a machine-gun opposite the entrance, under cover of darkness surrounded the Tutelary G.o.d's Temple. But Ah Q did not bolt for it. For a long time nothing stirred till the captain, losing patience, offered a reward of twenty thousand cash. Only then did two militiamen summon up courage to jump over the wall and enter. With their co-operation, the others rushed in and dragged Ah Q out. But not until he had been carried out of the temple to somewhere near the machine-gun did he begin to wake up to what was happening.

It was already midday by the time they reached town, and Ah Q found himself carried to a dilapidated yamen where, after taking five or six turnings, he was pushed into a small room. No sooner had he stumbled inside than the door, in the form of a wooden grille, was slammed on his heels. The rest of the cell consisted of three blank walls, and when he looked carefully he saw two other men in a corner.

Although Ah Q was feeling rather uneasy, he was by no means depressed, because the room where he slept in the Tutelary G.o.d's Temple was in no way superior to this. The two other men also seemed to be villagers. They gradually fell into conversation with him, and one of them told him that the successful provincial candidate wanted to dun him for the rent owed by his grandfather; the other did not know why he was there. When they questioned Ah Q he answered quite frankly, Because I wanted to revolt.

That afternoon he was dragged out through the grille and taken to a big hall, at the far end of which sat an old man with a cleanly shaven head. Ah Q took him for a monk at first, but when he saw soldiers standing guard and a dozen men in long coats on both sides, some with their heads clean-shaven like this old man and some with a foot or so of hair hanging over their shoulders like the Bogus Foreign Devil, all glaring furiously at him with grim faces, he knew that this man must be someone important. At once his knee-joints relaxed of their own accord, and he sank to his knees.

Stand up to speak! Don't kneel! shouted all the men in the long coats.

Although Ah Q understood, he felt quite incapable of standing up. He had involuntarily started squatting, improving on this finally to kneel down.

Slave! exclaimed the long-coated men contemptuously. They did not insist on his getting up, however.

Tell the truth and you will receive a lighter sentence, said the old man with the shaven head in a low but clear voice, fixing his eyes on Ah Q. We know everything already. When you have confessed, we will let you go.

Confess! repeated the long-coated men loudly.

The fact is I wanted... to join... muttered Ah Q disjointedly after a moment's confused thinking.

In that case, why didn't you? asked the old man gently.

The Bogus Foreign Devil wouldn't let me.

Nonsense. It's too late to talk now. Where are your accomplices?

What?...

The gang who robbed the Zhao family that night.

They didn't come to call me. They moved the things away themselves. Mention of this made Ah Q indignant.

Where are they now? When you have told me I will let you go, repeated the old man even more gently.

I don't know.... They didn't come to call me...

Then, at a sign from the old man, Ah Q was dragged back through the grille. The following morning he was dragged out once more.

Everything was unchanged in the big hall. The old man with the cleanshaven head was still sitting there, and Ah Q knelt down again as before.

Have you anything else to say? asked the old man gently.

Ah Q thought, and decided there was nothing to say, so he answered, Nothing.

Then a man in a long coat brought a sheet of paper and held a brush in front of Ah Q, which he wanted to thrust into his hand. Ah Q was now nearly frightened out of his wits, because this was the first time in his life that his hand had ever come into contact with a writing-brush. He was just wondering how to hold it when the man pointed out a place on the paper and told him to sign his name.

I"I"can't write, said Ah Q, shame-faced, nervously holding the brush.

In that case, to make it easy for you, draw a circle!

Ah Q tried to draw a circle, but the hand with which he grasped the brush trembled, so the man spread the paper on the ground for him. Ah Q bent down and, as painstakingly as if his life depended on it, drew a circle. Afraid people would laugh at him, he determined to make the circle round; however, not only was that wretched brush very heavy, but it would not do his bidding. Instead it wobbled from side to side; and just as the line was about to close it swerved out again, making a shape like a melonseed.

While Ah Q was still feeling mortified by his failure to draw a circle, the man took back the paper and brush without any comment. A number of people then dragged him back for the third time through the grille.

By now he felt not too upset. He supposed that in this world it was fate of everybody at some time to be dragged in and out of prison and to have to draw circles on paper; it was only his circle not being round that he felt a blot on his escutcheon. Presently. However, he regained composure by thinking, Only idiots can make perfect circles. And with his thought he fell asleep.

That night, however, the successful provincial candidate was unable to sleep, because he had quarrelled with the captain. The successful provincial candidate had insisted that the main thing was to recover the stolen goods, while the captain said the main thing was to make a public example. Recently the captain had come to treat the successful provincial candidate quite disdainfully. So banging his fist on the table he said, Punish one to awe one hundred! See now, I have been a member of the revolutionary party for less than twenty days, but there have been a dozen cases of robbery, none of them yet solved; think how badly that reflects on me. Now this one has been solved, you come and haggle. It won't do. This is my affair.

The successful provincial candidate, most put out, insisted that if the stolen goods were not recovered he would resign immediately from his post as a.s.sistant civil administrator.

As you please, said the captain.

In consequence the successful provincial candidate did not sleep that night; but happily he did not hand in his resignation the next day after all.

The third time that Ah Q was dragged out of the grille-door was the morning following the night on which the successful provincial candidate had been unable to sleep. When he reached the hall, the old man with the clean-shaven head was sitting there as usual. And Ah Q knelt down as usual.

Very gently the old man questioned him, Have you anything more to say?

Ah Q thought, and decided there was nothing to say, so he answered, Nothing.

A number of men in long coats and short jackets put on him a white vest of foreign cloth with some black characters on it. Ah Q felt most disconcerted, because this was very like mourning dress and to wear mourning dress was unlucky. At the same time his hands were bound behind his back, and he was dragged out of the yamen.

Ah Q was lifted on to an uncovered cart, and several men in short jackets sat down beside him. The cart started off at once. In front were a number of soldiers and militiamen shouldering foreign rifles, and on both sides were crowds of gaping spectators, while what was behind Ah Q could not see. Suddenly it occurred to him"Can I be going to have my head cut off? Panic seized him and everything turned dark before his eyes, while there was a humming in his ears as if he had fainted. But he did not really faint. Although he felt frightened some of the time, the rest of the time he was quite calm. It seemed to him that in this world probably it was the fate of everybody at some time to have his head cut off.

He still recognized the road and felt rather surprised: Why were they not going to the execution ground? He did not know that he was being paraded round the streets as a public example. But if he had known, it would have been the same: he would only have thought that in this world probably it was the fate of everybody at some time to be made a public example of.

Then he realized that they were making a detour to the execution ground, so after all he must be going to have his head cut off. He looked round him regretfully at the people swarming after him like ants, and unexpectedly in the crowd by the roadside he caught sight of Amah Wu. So that was why he had not seen her for so long: she was working in town.

Ah Q suddenly became ashamed of his lack of spirit, because he had not sung any lines from an opera. His thoughts revolved like a whirlwind: The Young Widow at Her Husband's Grave was not heroic enough. The pa.s.sage Alas, in my cups in The Battle of the Dragon and The Tiger was too feeble. Steel mace in hand I shall trounce you was still the best. But when he wanted to raise his hands, he remembered that they were bound together; so he did not sing Steel mace in hand either.

In twenty years I shall be another... In his agitation Ah Q uttered half a saying which he had picked up for himself but never used before, Good!!! The roar of the crowd sounded like the growl of a wolf.

The car moved steadily forward. During the shouting Ah Q's eyes turned in search of Amah Wu, but she did not seem to have seen him for she was looking intently at the foreign rifles carried by the soldiers.

So Ah Q took another look at the shouting crowd.

At that instant his thoughts revolved again like a whirlwind. Four years before, at the foot of the mountain, he had met a hungry wolf which had followed him at a set distance, wanting to eat him. He had nearly died of fright, but luckily he happened to have a knife in his hand which gave him the courage to get back to Weizhuang. He had never forgotten that wolf's eyes, fierce yet cowardly, gleaming like two will-o'-the-wisps, as if boring into him from a distance. Now he saw eyes more terrible even than the wolf's: dull yet penetrating eyes that having devoured his words still seemed eager to devour something of him at a set distance.

These eyes seemed to have merged into one, biting into his soul.

Help, help!

But Ah Q never uttered these words. All had turned black before his eyes, there was a buzzing in his ears, and he felt as if his whole body were being scattered like so much light dust.

As for the after-effects of the robbery, the most affected was the successful provincial candidate, because the stolen goods were never recovered. All his family lamented bitterly. Next came the Zhao household; for when the successful county candidate went into town to report the robbery, not only did he have his queue cut off by bad revolutionaries, but he had to pay a reward of twenty thousand cash into the bargain; so all the Zhao family lamented bitterly too. From that day forward they gradually a.s.sumed the air of the survivors of a fallen dynasty.

As for any discussion of the event, no question was raised in Weizhuang. Naturally all agreed that Ah Q had been a bad man, the proof being that he had been shot; for if he had not been bad, how could he have been shot? But the consensus of opinion in town was unfavourable. Most people were dissatisfied, because a shooting was not such a fine spectacle as a decapitation; and what a ridiculous culprit he had been too, to pa.s.s through so many streets without singing a single line from an opera. They had followed him for nothing.

December 1921

* The Double Fifth Festival

Recently the phrase much of a muchness had virtually become Fang Xuanchuo's watchword. Not only on his lips, it was indeed entrenched in his mind. At first he had said all the same. Later, probably thinking this unreliable, he had switched to much of a muchness and used it right up till now.

Since his discovery of this commonplace dictum, although it had evoked not a few new emotions, at the same time he derived much comfort from it. For instance, when he saw the old domineering over the young, whereas once this had enraged him he now came round to thinking: when these youngsters have children and grandchildren themselves, they will probably throw their weight about like this too. Then it no longer seemed unjust. Or when he saw a soldier beating a rickshaw man, whereas once this had enraged him he now came round to thinking: if these two men were to change places, the rickshaw man would probably do the same. Then it no longer worried him. Sometimes, when such thoughts crossed his mind, he had misgivings, attributing his self-delusive escapism to his lack of courage to battle against social evils. It was akin to having no sense of right and wrong, and fell far short of reform. None the less, this viewpoint grew on him.

He first made public this theory of much of a muchness in a cla.s.sroom in Shoushan School in Beijing. At the time, doubtless referring to past history, he said, the men of old and those of today are not far apart, whatever their colours by nature they are akin, and finally he led up to students and officials, airing his views at some length.

In our society today it's all the rage to inveigh against of officials, and those who do this most harshly are students. But officials are not a race apart from birth; they come from the common people. Not a few of today's officials started as students, just like the old mandarins. If they changed places their conduct would be the same. There is not much to choose between them in outlook, speech, behaviour or appearance. As for many of the new activities launched by student bodies, didn't malpractices result, almost inevitably, so that most of them have now gone up in smoke? It's much of a muchness. But herein lies our concern over China's future....

Of his twenty-odd auditors seated here and there in the cla.s.sroom, some showed dismay, perhaps believing him right; some were angry, doubtless thinking this an insult to sacred youth; a few smiled at him, doubtless thinking this a self-justification"because Fang Xuanchuo also held an official post.

In fact, all of them were wrong. This was simply a new sense of injustice he had. Even so, it was just empty, law-abiding talk. Although not knowing himself whether owing to indolence, or because it was useless, at all events he refused to take part in movements and regarded himself as thoroughly law-abiding. Accused by his superiors of being psychopathic, as long as this did not affect his position, he never protested. When his school salary was more than half a year in arrears, so long as he had his official pay to live on, he never protested either. He not only kept his mouth shut, when the teachers banded together to demand payment, he privately considered this imprudent and too vociferous; only when his colleagues ran them down too harshly did he feel slightly disturbed; but then it occurred to him that this might be because he himself was hard up and the other officials did not hold teaching posts, and so he overlooked it.

Although he, too, was hard up, he never joined the teachers' union; but when the others decided to go on strike he stayed away from cla.s.s. The government ultimatum, No pay till cla.s.ses are resumed, annoyed him, because this seemed like tempting a monkey with fruit. However, not until an outstanding educationist said, It is in poor taste for teachers, a briefcase in one hand, to hold out the other for money, did he make any formal complaint to his wife.