“Long I lived checked by the bars of a cage; now I have turned again to Nature and Freedom.” — Tao Yuanming, “Returning to the Fields”
2022.9.1
Telling my boss I was quitting was not a hard thing to do — it came naturally, and I’d been turning it over for so long anyway. Once my mind was made up, no one could change it, so I might as well come right out and say it. Only, out of respect for the other party (the company), I wouldn’t speak ill of them: it was all my own reasons from start to finish, nothing to do with the company. I’d grown tired of Beijing; drifting on like this, unable to afford a home, unable to marry — this life could not go on. So I was leaving, going home; as for what I’d do once home, that was a matter for later.
Of course I wasn’t going home, and I wouldn’t tell my parents I’d quit either. But I told my boss I was going home, and that my parents knew and encouraged me to come back, saying that if I was unhappy out there I should come home — they were so reasonable; there were no better parents in the world. All of it was a lie. There was no need to tell my boss the truth; better that we part on good terms, both of us at peace.
If I did tell the truth, what would it sound like? It would go like this: This shitty job — I can’t stand it one day longer. You shitty bosses, fooling around every day, not understanding a thing and muddling through, summoning us here and ordering us around — one word from a boss and ten oxen drop dead from exhaustion. The mess you make yourselves, and we have to carry the blame. At meetings you talk nothing but crap, foul and long-winded, wasting everyone’s time, and you take no responsibility at all, only clinging to the rules. Keep to the beaten path and what great thing can you ever accomplish? Look at how many people have left — ever think about your own reasons? Not that the bosses care. Since you won’t change your ways, I don’t want to serve you any longer. So long to you, sir!
To say it’s all the bosses’ fault is unfair to them. The environment is what it is, the system is what it is, and they can’t change it either. They just have a little more patience than we do. When we can’t stand it we can still quit; when they can’t stand it they have to keep enduring it. Endure and endure until your mind is warped and twisted, and you even start to think this is normal — “They can put up with it, why can’t you? You endure it too.”
Endure, my ass. I’m not enduring one more thing, and I don’t want to be one of you or serve as your slave any longer. We Hubei folk, the nine-headed birds, are just that high-minded.
In fact the whole conversation was quite amicable. That was mainly because I’m too considerate of others, unwilling to say harsh things — part on good terms. The boss knew he couldn’t hold me back either, and only politely asked me to think it over a bit more. There was nothing to think over. But the work still had to be handed over: one old hand leaves, a new one comes in, and it’s bound to hurt the work. The boss must have had a headache over it — but that was no longer my problem. Once I’d put in my resignation I could wash my hands of it whenever I liked. Only, I’m too kind-hearted; I didn’t want the handover to go wrong and make trouble for whoever came after. Besides, I still had some time, so I’d train him properly and get him up to speed as fast as I could.
Still, I made it clear that once I left, the work would have nothing to do with me, and I didn’t want to be bothered by it anymore.
I explained the situation to my boss in the morning, and in the afternoon I asked the HR colleague how to go through the resignation formalities. I’d assumed a state-owned enterprise would have a template for a resignation letter, but it turned out I had to write my own. So I wrote it out clearly — the reason for leaving (four words: “personal reasons”) and the date (to leave at the end of the month, once the handover was done) — and asked the boss to sign. The boss said the senior boss might want a word with me, and he’d sign after that talk was over. Fine, let’s hear whatever he has to say. I told a few colleagues I was close to as well, and got them to treat me to a meal.
I was truly happy. At last I had taken this step, about to shake off an unfree life, preparing to leave Beijing for the seaside I’d been longing for.
2022.9.2
I deleted every alarm on my phone — no more fear of oversleeping. Though I had no alarm set, I still woke early in the morning; maybe I really was getting older. Going to work, walking along the road, I thought: the number of times I’ll walk this road is getting smaller and smaller.
Sorting through the things left in my office, I found some wedding-candy boxes, dainty and cute, all given out by colleagues when they married. I laughed to myself: seven years working here, and I never took the ten days of marriage leave — what a pity. And the hundred-plus days of maternity leave too — I lost out.
I told my counterparts at partner organizations that I was leaving. They were shocked too, sorry to see me go, saying they’d never find anyone as conscientious and responsible as me again. True enough — it was just because I took the work too seriously that I wore myself out. With partners it isn’t like with colleagues you see every day; see too much of people and you tire of them, get annoyed. With them it was easier and closer instead. “A friendship between gentlemen is as clear as water”; distance lends enchantment.
There was barely any work left at the unit; I’d drifted into a state of having nothing to do, and at two in the afternoon I left the office and went home. What difference is there between an office in a tower block and a workshop in an electronics factory? What difference between a white-collar worker staring at a computer screen and a blue-collar worker on an assembly line? Why did humankind ever set out on this unfree road? In the evening I stood on the overpass, looking at the crescent moon, at the vault of sky, at the traffic flowing below the bridge, and thought about it.
Why must people work? Can’t we not work? Are city people happier than country people, mental workers happier than manual workers? Are modern people happier than the ancients, Homo sapiens happier than chimpanzees, multicellular creatures happier than single-celled ones? I doubt it. Confucius said, after all, “I follow Zhou.” Why do so many people look back fondly on the past, thinking 2019 was better than now? There’s good reason, surely. The Industrial Revolution drove the peasants off the land and into the factories — would the peasants thank the capitalists for it? I don’t think so either. And as for me: less hair, short-sighted eyes, a hunched back, a fatter face, a bigger belly, a saggier arse — all of it a self-evident degeneration.
No one likes to work, especially when it’s just to keep body and soul together, with no spiritual pursuit. People shouldn’t live like cattle and horses, pigs and dogs.
2022.9.3
Saturday, and I woke early again. I really do think I’m getting old — I no longer want to lie in. Not like when I was young, when I could sleep till noon, even till two or three in the afternoon; I don’t know why I could sleep so much back then. Now I only want to get up early and do something.
I went to get a look at the Ice Ribbon (the National Speed Skating Oval). You even had to buy a ticket, RMB 40 — outright robbery. The building was too big: standing below it or inside it you couldn’t take in the whole thing, unless you had a drone or lived in one of the high-rises nearby — which I didn’t have the means for. The pandemic controls hadn’t been lifted yet, and no sports events could be held, so these beautiful buildings were just decoration. Locals could actually try the rink out, but I saw them all skating in masks, and it was rather helpless to watch. Is exercising in a mask good for you or bad for you?
It’s not easy to make a trip out; you can’t just go to one place. There were still lots of spots I hadn’t been, and the most convenient one on the route was Beijing West Railway Station. That neither-fish-nor-fowl (Chinese-meets-Western) gate tower at Beijing West is quite distinctive — I had to pose for a photo there. A railway station really is a place that leaves you at a loss for words: some people leaving, some returning, and some sleeping in the passageways — it stirs up all sorts of feelings. Around there you’d also get Beijing’s pandemic-warning text messages: arrivals and returnees to Beijing, remember to get your nucleic acid test. No questioning it — Beijing is the safest city in China.
On the subway I saw a pretty girl carrying an amusing canvas tote bag with the words “Splendid weather. Almost no money.” printed on it, and I couldn’t help smiling. Beijing deserves its name as China’s cultural capital; Beijing’s young people are surely the most artsy crowd around. And artsy, as a rule, goes hand in hand with broke. I was looking at goods on an online shopping platform when I discovered that the line was Chekhov’s, from a letter he wrote to someone. And others like “I have no money to spend, but I’m too lazy to earn any. Please send me some money.” Very funny, and quite lovable.
Going home, coming out of the subway, it began to rain — not lightly. The autumn chill was cool, and I walked straight into the rain and let it soak me. There isn’t much time left when I can get rained on; getting rained on doesn’t do the body much harm, but wait till I’m seventy or eighty — one drenching might carry me off for good.
At the pattering autumn rain, Li Qingzhao would have written ten ci poems to give vent to her feelings — while I suddenly felt hungry and wanted hot-pot mutton.
2022.9.4
In the morning I happened to discover that the Xishiku Church had reopened, so I hurried into my clothes and went out to take one last look. I’d always remembered that white archway as especially beautiful, graceful beyond words. It happened to be Sunday, and Mass was being held inside: the priest preaching, the faithful devout, hymns rising in waves. A pity I’m not religious — I only stood to one side watching and listening. When they finished, everyone took out their phones and started photographing.
Though I’d woken early in the morning, once I went out at noon and came back in the afternoon, after eating I was sleepy as death again, with nothing to do, so I had to sleep — and slept four or five hours straight. Waking up dazed, I felt life really was meaningless. That night there was lightning and thunder, a raging storm, hailstones drumming on the ground. Even so, downstairs there were still delivery riders bringing food. Modern city people are truly blessed. I was glad Beijing’s rain is usually a short, sharp downpour, not like the drizzly rain of the south — the delivery boys revved up their motorbikes and wove through the streets like a loom.
2022.9.5
I wrote the resignation application; it needed the department head’s signature, and after that the signature of the senior boss in charge. The senior boss said he wanted to have a chat with me this afternoon. Since no replacement had been arranged yet, the work still had to be done by someone, so I went in the morning and dealt with a few things. In the afternoon I went to get the senior boss’s signature, and we talked for nearly an hour again. I said once more that it wasn’t because the work or the company was bad, but that the financial pressure of living in Beijing was too great. I’m such a hypocrite — about to quit and still praising the company. The boss asked me to give him some feedback; I said I had none for him, heh.
Only after the boss signed did the resignation process formally begin: I went to HR to pick up the “notice for departing staff,” which listed all the relevant departments, each of which I had to go to one by one to confirm, sign, and stamp. Once all these forms were filled in, my labor contract could be terminated and a certificate of resignation issued. If you did it fast, it could be done in a few days. But I wasn’t in a hurry; I’d take my time.
The resignation date I’d written on the application was 30 September. I didn’t know what the consequences of leaving earlier might be — whether they’d dock part of my wages. But since no one could restrain me now anyway, I’d go to the company when I felt like it and not go when I didn’t, as long as the stamps on the form were all complete. As for whom the work was handed over to, that was the bosses’ business. They asked me who would be suitable; I said I didn’t want to offend anyone — if I named someone, that person would surely resent me. I didn’t want anything more to do with intrigues and infighting.
Word that I was leaving had probably spread by now. A colleague came to confirm it; I said yes. He said, “I really envy you — let’s have a meal before you go.” I think he genuinely envied me: to be able to bravely choose to leave really does take great courage, and ordinary people don’t have it. Sometimes I wonder too whether I was driven out or left of my own accord — but the two are really the same, with no difference at all.
In my colleagues’ minds, I must have found a better job. But no — I just quit outright, to be a lying-flat man. They can’t understand because they have mortgages and car loans to pay, or they’re married with children, or they don’t want to leave Beijing for somewhere else. Beijingers are docile subjects — the most obedient, most rule-abiding crowd there is; risk-taking, refusing to submit, going your own way aren’t in their dictionary.
Though I do look down on them a little, I’m not proud either, because I’ve beautified this choice of mine as courage, put a filter on it. I understand that in the eyes of many people full of positive energy, I’m just escaping pressure, irresponsible, selfish, outside the mainstream way of life — and plenty of people are probably snickering behind my back: “He’ll definitely regret it later!”
2022.9.6
The resignation form had eighteen blank boxes, each requiring confirmation from someone in a different department — whether you owed the unit money, whether you’d returned anything, social insurance, health insurance, housing fund, corporate annuity, personnel file, household registration, the union, logistics, IT, and so on. It looked like a lot, but in practice it went quickly as long as you found the right people; some people finished in a week, some in a single day. When I did it, I discovered that I didn’t even know many of the colleagues, and had to ask around one by one. It seemed I really hadn’t made much of a go of things at this unit.
I heard a lot of gossip again, about the conflict between the middle-level and senior bosses — supposedly it had gotten really bad, faces torn, as incompatible as fire and water. It suddenly struck me how childish my invented reason for leaving was: I was like a kid who knew nothing of the world. And the bosses — they actually knew perfectly well that I was leaving out of dissatisfaction with them, yet they pretended to know nothing.
If I hadn’t seen someone reposting nucleic-acid-test news, I’d almost have forgotten to get tested again. Luckily it was only just past four — still time.
2022.9.7
I don’t know who said it, but the two great faults of Confucian thought are putting yourself in others’ place and turning inward to examine yourself. As a Chinese person, I must be affected by it too, especially after so many years of schooling. I kept explaining to colleagues who came to ask why I was leaving: it was my own reasons, I didn’t want to drift in Beijing anymore, I was going home. Said often enough, even I almost believed it. I expressed no dissatisfaction with the bosses and spoke no ill of the company. I was simply a great saint — gentleness, goodness, respectfulness, frugality, and yielding shone from me. No one was more modest than I, and no one more hypocritical, saying one thing and meaning another. Chinese people just love to suppress themselves.
Our unit had two office areas, one for business and one for administration. For my resignation I had to get signatures or stamps, so I had to run back and forth between them. Yesterday I filled in three boxes on the business side; today I went to the administration side and filled in nine; that made twelve boxes in these two days. As I said before, there are eighteen boxes in all, so six remain — because some clerks weren’t in, and some could only be filled in after the handover (no one had been arranged for the handover yet). And the union was about to hand out Mid-Autumn and National Day consolation money; I’d wait until the money was paid before I dissolved my union membership (if I quit early, I was afraid I’d miss out on the National Day portion — take a small last advantage of the company).
Someone asked me: if the unit had given you a hukou when you first came to work, would you still be quitting now? I thought about it — if I had a hukou, I’d consider buying a house, and maybe I’d have bought one soon (and become a mortgage slave). With a house, I’d have to think about marrying too, since in Beijing’s marriage market a hukou and a house are a very big advantage (snobbery). Married, then I’d have to have a kid, then push the kid, raise the kid up, let the kid go through it all over again as I did — buy a house, marry, have a kid, push the child... too terrifying. It’s precisely because I have no hukou that I can say, like Ah Q, who wasn’t fit to be named Zhao, that I am now a thoroughly free man.
2022.9.8
At noon a colleague treated me to a meal and brought along another as company; the three of us went out to eat. Though there were all sorts of frictions among the bosses, relations among us ordinary colleagues were still fairly simple and harmonious — say whatever you think, no scruples, especially with someone like me who was leaving. We swapped gossip, grumbled about the bosses’ style, sighed over the general climate; everyone felt things were getting harder and harder to do, with no idea what the future held — maybe our whole department would be cut, and so on. Both of them were steady, law-abiding people, and they urged me not to let my social insurance lapse after I left. But I couldn’t care less about social insurance — why make things so hard for yourself?
The bosses still hadn’t arranged anyone to take over. I guessed they couldn’t find a suitable person, but a colleague told me there was conflict among the bosses and it hadn’t even been decided which boss would do the arranging: one of them didn’t want to deal with it because he might be transferred away, and the other was quarantined at home as a close contact, with no telling when he’d be let out. So the pandemic really did affect the work. But it was none of my business — if they didn’t arrange it, and the work later ran into difficulties or couldn’t be carried on, that wouldn’t be my responsibility.
I don’t want to talk much about the shitty little things at work — they only vex you, and yet there’s nothing else to do. In the evening I saw a friend from the Rushan chat group post the moon over the sea. Nothing special, really (you have to see it in person). It was Mid-Autumn again, so I went out to look for the moon too, but there were clouds and mist, a hazy layer shrouding the almost-full moon; I’d have to wait another hour or two, until it rose higher, for it to be bright and clear as jade. In the city, blocked by the high-rises, you simply can’t see the moon rising from the horizon, from the sea, or from behind the hills.
2022.9.9
In the afternoon my colleagues threw me a farewell party. One of the older ones gathered a few others who could speak freely — eight of us in all — and we ate cake and chatted in the big meeting room. Almost all of them had come to the company before me and knew its history very well; past, present, and future they saw perfectly clearly. Listening to them tell of old secrets, present messes, and future uncertainty, I felt all the more that leaving was an incomparably correct decision. They could endure it only because they’d seen through everything and no longer wanted to fight; just muddle through the days until retirement, and that’s enough.
As for me, I was still too simple and naive, full of hot blood, with less inside knowledge and gossip than them, less cautious and smooth than them. The maturity and calm and understanding I deliberately put on probably looked to them like ignorance, shallowness, and recklessness. But so what — because I’m still young, I have no scruples, no baggage. I am a hundred times, ten thousand times freer than they are.
One thing a colleague mentioned did bother me. He said that once a boss had scolded me very harshly, and everyone in the office heard it; they’d felt furious and indignant on my behalf. But I couldn’t remember it at all. I asked him just which time it was; he said that time. Only then did I recall that there had indeed been such an occasion — though afterward I’d paid it no mind at all. The colleague went on: the boss would often scold you and then come soothe you, giving you snacks and drinks, stationery and clothes, little favors, coaxing you until you were happy. Only then did I realize that this too was a kind of workplace PUA — the person scolds you and you have to thank him for it, feel that you were in the wrong, that he meant well, for your sake and the work’s sake — when in fact he only meant well for himself. No wonder I gradually came to understand how rare equality and respect are in the workplace — and not only the workplace: family, society, all the same. Parents shouldn’t PUA their children, couples and spouses shouldn’t PUA each other, the upper class shouldn’t PUA the lower class; everyone equal, mutual respect, and the world would be a better place (wishful thinking). In the end, human society is also a jungle, the strong preying on the weak — even in a big city as highly civilized and developed as Beijing.
Personally (as a southerner), I loathe calling a boss nin. A boss isn’t my dad — I don’t even call my own dad nin, so why should I be so deferential to you? Colleagues — bosses included — are all equals to me; we’re on the same level. You call me ni, so of course I’ll call you ni too, and I don’t think ni is disrespectful at all. If you say I don’t respect you, then when did you ever respect me? What’s so great about being older? Is only the elderly worth respecting — do middle-aged people, young people, children not need respect? So let’s all skip this nonsense. I’m looking forward to the post-2000 generation coming to shake up the workplace.
Maybe I’m too stubborn, but I think the notion of rank and superiority in many settings needs to be broken down — if it isn’t broken and changed, there’s no hope.
2022.9.10
Nothing to do in the daytime; in the evening I went out to look at the moon. Maybe because of the smog, the moon was red — sunset red, like apple skin. A row of people stood by the roadside admiring the moon, all snapping away with their phones; a pity the phone can’t capture the moon’s beauty. As it rose higher it gradually turned white. The moon is the same every year, but a person’s mood is different every year. “Year after year the flowers are alike; year after year the people are not.”
2022.9.11
A friend treated me to a meal at Wangfujing. Huh — I’d been to Wangfujing far too little, didn’t know it at all. Beijing’s prosperous places have nothing to do with me. After eating we went to Shougang Park, in Shijingshan, very far away: a park converted from a closed steel mill — friends in architecture would find it interesting. The big-air ski jump is right there in the park; many Winter Olympics events were held there before, so it counts as an internet-famous building.
The moon on the sixteenth was very full too, and also red. A pity no one was on the bridge photographing it today — one day later and the treatment is different.
2022.9.12
Some people told me to get a dog after I quit, to while away the loneliness. I don’t think I need to. From childhood to now I’ve never felt loneliness, and don’t even know what solitude is. Maybe because I was born into a family with many children — only children can’t understand. Still, it’s not that I’m not lonely that I don’t keep a pet, but that I don’t want to shut an animal up at home. By nature I love freedom, and I was born in the countryside, raised free-range; I can’t bear to see a cat or dog kept penned in. Besides, being unemployed, I need to be careful with money (broke) — just keeping myself fed is hard enough.
Bored at home, I went out for a stroll. I cycled south from the northern Third-and-a-Half Ring all the way to the end, which is Beijing Railway Station. I got off and took a selfie with the station, then went on foot to the Southeast Corner Tower, and stood for quite a while on the bridge below the corner tower, looking at the city scene there and the trains pulling in and out of the station. A pity it was a bit hot, and the sun beat down — otherwise I could have lingered there a long time. Farther south, on the bike again, I rode to the residential compound where the Yuan Chonghuan Shrine and Tomb is. Yuan Chonghuan’s tomb is inside a residential compound — most curious; I wondered what the residents there think at night. First a reservation, then scan the health code, then buy a ticket (RMB 2) — only then could I get into the shrine. I must have been here twice before; the first time it had even snowed lightly. Inside the shrine it was solemn and dignified, no one daring to make a loud noise; before the tombstone reading “Tomb of the Great General Yuan of the Ming” lay a few bunches of chrysanthemums. An old white cat was asleep on the steps; I sat there too, gazing at the tombstone ahead, enjoying the quiet afternoon and the cool shade of the courtyard, stroking the cat and scratching its head and chin. Leaving the compound, at the gate I saw a resident quarreling with the person monitoring the health-code scans; the resident was shouting, “I live here — I’m not scanning.”
2022.9.13
Today I went to the unit again and dealt with some work. Since no handover had been arranged, the bosses hadn’t come to me either. I don’t know what they were thinking — it seemed they really couldn’t find a successor, or really didn’t take my remaining work seriously. Since that’s how it is, I don’t care anymore how they develop from here, good or bad (bad, surely). I have no feelings left.
This month’s social insurance and housing fund were still paid by the unit; next month there’d be none. I didn’t want to pay them myself either — I can’t make sense of all the policies and can’t be bothered to; I’ll just live off my savings. Would rich people pay social insurance? Would rich people care about a pension? There’s supplementary medical insurance too, reimbursed according to my nine months of work; I went to the pharmacy and got some receipts made out. In seven years in Beijing I’d been to hospital only twice, both minor illnesses; the doctor prescribed medicine that did nothing, and in the end I got better on my own. I hope I don’t get sick in the future either.
If a young person is forever fretting about life after retirement, planning out his whole life and following it step by step, then what meaning is left in life?
2022.9.14
Every morning I slept till I woke naturally, with no alarm to disturb me, no work to force me up, no subway to squeeze into, no office to sit in — body relaxed, mood cheerful, carefree and easy, like the minnows gliding so leisurely in the river that even Zhuangzi, seeing them, would have exclaimed at the joy of the fish.
The unit announced next month’s health checkup — of course it wasn’t my turn anymore, and I didn’t care. Every year the checkup never turned up the slightest thing wrong; apart from my weight going up and my height wavering up and down, every other index was within the normal range. Without a job I’ll be healthier and slimmer.
At last the boss found me a successor, and I could hand the work over — wash my hands of everything, and let the future have nothing to do with me. As for the handover, I’d already written a lot of help documents; if there’s a problem, just look them up. There are too few people as conscientious as me.
2022.9.15
Only some loose ends were left; I went in the morning and dealt with them, ate lunch in the office canteen, and went home. This month’s meal allowance was still there. The person taking over was a new colleague; he said his last unit also had lots of annoying rules, even more than ours. It’s like jumping from one pit into another — perhaps work is just that helpless a thing. Of course, hee-hee, if you don’t work, there’s nothing to be helpless about.
In fact there were still many places in Beijing I hadn’t seen that were worth a look, but I always felt too tired. At first I thought I was just put off by the distance: every trip out meant squeezing onto the subway for over an hour, two or three hours round trip — who’d ride the subway for fun? But then it struck me: why didn’t I used to hate the subway crush, and now find it utterly loathsome and exhausting? The answer was simple — before, you didn’t have to wear a mask; now you have to wear a mask and show all kinds of codes. It’s the endless fiddly procedures that are killing people.
2022.9.16
At noon a colleague from another department treated me to a meal alone, saying she admired my courage in quitting, and then talked about herself: she’d gotten pregnant right after marrying and never had a proper honeymoon; her first child was five or six, and she’d thought things might get easier, that she and her husband could travel and enjoy a world of two — but then she accidentally got pregnant again. Now the second child was two and she simply couldn’t budge, couldn’t go anywhere, couldn’t relax; in the morning she combed her daughter’s hair, in the evening she tutored her son’s homework, busy to death. She really envied me, able to go wherever I wanted, with nothing tying me down.
In the afternoon, with nothing to do, I went to the other office site to get stamps on the resignation form. I’d meant to get three, but one clerk wasn’t in, so I only got two stamps. Now fourteen of the eighteen boxes were stamped; four to go, and next week it would be complete.
In the evening another colleague who’d joined the unit the same year as me treated me to dinner. I told her all the gossip and mess of the department again, and told her not to work herself too hard — lie flat when you can; health matters most, being happy matters most. So conscientious, and for that little bit of salary anyway. I showed her the seaside sunrise a friend from the Rushan group had shared — great swathes of crimson dawn clouds, long surging rows of waves. She was stunned too, said it was simply too beautiful, and asked me to share more seaside scenery with her once I got there — or I could start a livestream of the sunrise over the sea.
Two big meals in a row — ate too much, talked too much. Back home I felt as if drunk, wanting to vomit but unable to, retching several times, miserable, and I couldn’t help growing sentimental, close to tears. “Our capital teems with officious people, / While you are alone and helpless and poor” — isn’t that just me?
2022.9.17
I posted a room-wanted message online, and a Beijing auntie contacted me, saying she had a place in Rushan she could rent to me. We arranged to meet at Wudaokou today. Renting straight from the landlord, cutting out the agent, was a good thing for me too, and the location of her place was very good — in a first-rate compound, sea in front, lake behind, with a shopping street nearby, quite convenient. But we talked for an hour and couldn’t come to terms. She wanted RMB 5,000 a year (including property fees and RMB 500 for utilities); I wanted it cheaper, RMB 4,500. She kept feeling that young people would change their minds after a month or two at most, and it made no difference to her whether it was rented or not, so she introduced me to another auntie.
Owing to the above, I made a rare trip to Wudaokou and discovered it’s full of young and pretty girls — it’s as if Haidian is twenty years younger than Chaoyang: Haidian is the vigorous post-2000 college students, Chaoyang the lifeless forty-something uncles. Hah!
I chatted a while with that other auntie; the rent was still too high, and it seemed renting straight from the landlord had few advantages after all, so I gave up. From now on I’d ask the young people in the lying-flat group to help me find a place — young people can talk to young people and understand each other. Anyway, I had more than a month left, no hurry; I’d just treat it as keeping the aunties company for a chat, learning about the situation in Rushan and how the aunties think.
Chatting with the aunties was a bit tiring — there’s a generation gap, and you can’t joke around freely, not like chatting with young people, so direct and smooth. To love youth, to love being young, to want to stay young and youthful forever (or to live forever) — that’s everyone’s dream, a truth I’ve only come to understand recently, unchanging since ancient times. Then I reflected on myself: that young people dislike us middle-aged ones is only natural too, a matter of instinct. Growing up and growing old, a person becomes lonelier and lonelier, like a flower from full bloom to withering, with no one to care, until it sinks into the dark.
2022.9.18
I had a dream — dreamed that all the restrictions had been lifted, “lanterns hung and decorations up, the whole world rejoicing.” Waking, I felt a little dazed.
Though the solar term had already entered autumn, the weather hadn’t; the daytime temperature was still a bit high, and I didn’t dare go out, so I waited till evening. I cycled to the Yonghe Temple, walked into Guanshuyuan Lane, wound around to Guozijian Street, cycled to the Bell and Drum Towers, and walked on to Shichahai. The whole way was crowded and lively — the city’s entertainments really are rich — but I was only a tourist, looking on at other people’s lives.
Absurd things happen every day, and yet, apart from rage, there’s nothing you can do. As a child I’d listen to my parents tell of the great historical events they’d lived through, and envy and yearn for it — but now that I myself am in the midst of history, I can’t be glad about it at all. It’s oppressive and painful.
That night the bathroom ceiling leaked badly, hot and stinking water streaming down with a splash — must have been the upstairs neighbor taking a shower; maybe his floor was seeping, or a pipe had burst. Because I didn’t want to deal with people, I didn’t want to knock on his door and complain; I thought if I waited a bit it would stop. But after a long while it was still leaking, so I swallowed my pride, worked up the courage, went upstairs, and — wearing a mask, through the door — mentioned it to them. I remembered living in another rented place before, when the water heater broke; for various reasons it went a whole month without being fixed, and that month wore me out. If I had a house of my own, especially a big villa, even if something went wrong I wouldn’t be in such a sorry state. But I have no money, and I can only put up with these torments. Why did I come to the big city to suffer all this?
2022.9.19
At noon four colleagues pooled together to treat me to a meal — barbecue. They had their grievances about the work and the bosses too, but not much complaining; they could endure it, took it in stride, and had to keep at it for the long haul, so I didn’t express too many fierce, negative feelings, nor gossip with them. After I leave, I may never see these colleagues again. I don’t regret it — a new life and new friends are waiting for me.
In the morning I still went to the office, meaning to spend this week properly training my successor, so that the work afterward would be the same as when I was there. In the afternoon, with nothing to do, I left early. If I don’t work for a year, will I be able to come back to this office? Don’t worry about it — let nature take its course.
The temperature came down, never to rise above thirty degrees again; true autumn had announced its arrival, and a fine season will bring fine harvests.
2022.9.20
Today I went and filled in two more boxes, making sixteen of the eighteen on the resignation form; only the last two remained. I deleted all my personal information from the company computer and unbound both work email accounts (they used to be linked to my personal mailbox — to handle emails promptly I was always afraid to open it; now I’m not anxious anymore). Let the new man take full charge; I’m not dealing with it.
The night before last I’d found the bathroom ceiling leaking; last night a repairman came to look. Indeed the upstairs neighbor’s drain pipe was the problem (but the pipe runs over my ceiling), and the repairman couldn’t fix it, so he reported it to the letting agent, since both the upper and lower households would need to be contacted (the upstairs one is a tenant too, and its agent is yet another company). Now every time the people upstairs take a shower (they message me in advance to warn me), water runs down into my place and gives off a stink, and there’s no telling when it’ll get sorted. People without a home of their own are truly pitiful — the poor don’t deserve a high-quality life.
Reading is the same. No money to buy books, or having bought books with nowhere to put them; or, being a renter, you’re always moving house and have to sell or throw away the books you bought; you haul bricks all day long, come home dead tired, with no time to read — so the poor can only get poorer. Even if a poor person succeeds, the effort he puts in is countless times that of a rich person. How on earth is the problem of social inequality to be solved?
At night I went out for a stroll. It had turned quite cool outside; shorts were a bit cold now. In the eastern sky hung a bright, large star, like a dazzling diamond, close enough to reach out and take. “Even with no money, we can still go for a walk, look at the stars, listen to music, and be just as happy — why did you lie to me?” “When you’re hungry you still have to eat... but I’m a man, I can’t eat your food.”
2022.9.21
At noon I slept soundly at home. Waking, I heard the autumn wind blowing the leaves outside the window — shhh, shhh — like gentle waves, one after another.
I’d been to the foot of the China Zun once before, but the distance was too close for a good photo, so today I took the bus to the overpass beside the Ciyun Temple bus stop, said to be an internet-famous photo spot. Sure enough, there were many old folks camped out on the bridge with all kinds of cameras, waiting for the right moment. I stood on the bridge a while too, backlit, feeling the cool autumn breeze, and took a few photos — just a little outing to clear my head.
2022.9.22
Going out in the morning, the old gatekeeper at the compound entrance teased me: “You don’t go out till ten every morning, and you’re back before five in the afternoon — must be an easy job!” I said awkwardly, “Not much going on lately,” and didn’t want to explain further. In fact I just went to the unit at noon to eat (the monthly meal allowance is loaded onto the meal card — which doubles as the door card — at the start of each month; our unit’s policy is quite bizarre: you can only spend the current day’s, not in advance, and it’s void once expired). After eating, do whatever you like — go out and play or go home. I still had two boxes to fill, one of which was returning the meal card. I wanted to freeload a few more days of food, and take the chance to go check off a few places.
For instance, today after lunch I took the subway and then the bus — an hour and a half — to reach the Lugou Bridge in Fengtai. I often open up a map of Beijing and look at which places I haven’t been to yet; if I can bear the length of the ride, I plan a visit. There’s not much to see at the Lugou Bridge; it’s only of historical significance. I prefer sitting in the bus, watching the shabby, decaying houses in the suburbs along the way and the dark, coarse-faced residents, in sharp contrast to the city’s high-rises and pretty white-collar women. That contrast moves me a lot.
That night there was a strong wind and a big temperature drop in Beijing — good for going to bed early. I climbed into bed, pulled a blanket over me, and read; it happened to be Tao Yuanming’s “Biography of Mr. Five Willows,” and a line in it — “not grieving over poverty and low estate, nor straining after wealth and rank” — set me thinking deeply. I should learn from Tao Yuanming.
2022.9.23
My last visit to the Forbidden City. On a weekday there were very few tourists, and after last night’s wind and cold, today the sky was washed blue, the chill deepening. Though visitors were few, many people were doing photo shoots (mostly wedding photos, in Chinese-style formal dress). I sat on a chair in the shade, watching the photographers direct the girls into poses — the pretty, dressed-up girls were truly a delight to the eye. I watched them for a long while.
Waking in the morning I saw the news that it had snowed in Zhangjiakou. My first reaction was: will it snow in Beijing? Can I see a snowfall before I leave? Coming back in the evening, I saw the news again: the old farmers of Zhangjiakou were rushing to harvest potatoes in the wind and snow; many had already been frozen, a whole year’s work wasted. To the literati, snow is elegant and refined. To the farmers, it’s a disaster.
Good news: this month’s salary and housing fund both came through in the evening. Bad news: from next month I’ll have no income.
2022.9.24
Always having to remember not to forget the nucleic acid test is another thing that drives you to anxiety. If I don’t do the test, I don’t go out at all that day. It’s only early autumn, and already I feel cold just staying indoors; I sleep with my head under the covers. I don’t know how I’ll keep warm once I’m in Rushan, with no heating.
2022.9.25
Stay home and not go out, and it’s easy to sink into melancholy; go out and walk, and you’ll know what you want to do. Action is the best cure.
2022.9.26
Since this month’s salary had already come through on Friday evening, there was no need for me to go to the unit again; one more day wouldn’t earn me another day’s pay. So today was my last day going to the unit (I thought). Last night I was so excited I didn’t fall asleep till very late.
At ten in the morning I went to the unit to get the department head’s signature (one of the two remaining boxes). He talked with me a long while again, saying it was still not too late to withdraw the decision; seeing me firm, he said I’d be welcome to come back someday (citing people from other departments who had come back). I said I probably wouldn’t be coming back. He advised me not to be too absolute in what I did and said — it’s always good to leave yourself a way back. I knew he meant well, but if you always keep a way back in everything, without the courage to burn your boats, then in the end I think you’ll accomplish nothing.
This Wednesday the department had an autumn outing, and the boss strongly urged me to come along. I refused several times, but he insisted I go, saying I’d agreed to stay until the 30th, and that the budget for the outing included me. I really couldn’t resist him, so I reluctantly agreed.
After the boss signed, I told my coworkers below that today was my last day, and I wanted to take a commemorative photo with everyone (they’d mentioned before that they wanted a picture with me before I left). A flurry of activity — two groups came up to take photos with me, and a few colleagues took selfies with me individually.
At noon I ate at the unit and spent today’s meal allowance. A few colleagues told me that if I wasn’t coming in the next few days, I could go to the little shop in advance and buy things, spending the next few days’ meal allowance, so as not to waste it. Only then did I learn you could spend it in advance — I’d paid far too little attention to these things. Working here so long, I didn’t understand many of the rules (and didn’t want to). I really am unsuited to staying here.
In the afternoon I went to the little shop and randomly bought a few things, spent the money on the meal card, and then handed in the empty card (which doubles as the door card) — that was the last box filled. Every form on the resignation routing slip was now complete. I let out a long breath: freed at last.
I handed the slip to HR, but they said the certificate of resignation wouldn’t be ready for a couple of days (I’d thought I could get it as soon as I handed it in), and told me to come back for it in a couple of days. I really didn’t want to come again, so I asked whether someone else could pick it up for me; they said no, the person themself had to sign. Anyway, I treated myself as already liberated — I’m in no hurry to find the next job, so coming back a little later is fine.
At last I could stop worrying about anything, stop caring about anything. All my troubles and sorrows could go to hell! I was a free man.