Leave Me Alone (23 page)

Room 308 in the Golden Bay Hotel. The door was still unlocked. I held the handle, my heart leaping madly. After waiting two seconds to cool down, I gently pushed open the door.

No one. The place was as silent and still as the grave. The TV was on, the sound turned down; a few shadows with
happy faces danced across the screen. Their lips moved but I didn’t know what they were saying. All the lights were on, the sheets tangled on the bed. The paper I’d used to clean my shoes stuck up from the edge of the wastepaper basket, fluttering in a slight draught.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

There’d been no follow-up to my interview with the big boss. Fatty Dong continued as our General Manager, his stomach stuck out in front and his arse protruding behind. His manner was increasingly high-handed and when he got worked up about something he produced enough saliva to drown people.

Zhou Weidong summarised his three favourite sayings as follows:

1. You’re wrong!

2. I can’t just sign this.

3. You can disagree, but you still have to obey.

He imitated Fatty Dong, thrusting out his stomach as he walked around.

‘Chen Zhong, do you dare disobey?’ he said in Fatty Dong’s blustering tone.

I beat the desk and laughed loudly.

‘Genius. You’ve got him down to a T.’

The past two months had been tough for me. Disregarding Head Office’s instructions, Fatty Dong asked accounts to deduct 5,000 yuan from my salary each month. As it was the slowest season for sales, I was making less than 3,000 yuan a month. If I hadn’t had some capital to fall back on, I would have had to declare bankruptcy.

Last week at the Binjiang Hotel I’d seen Zegna suits on sale, the cheapest going for just 4,600. I hesitated for a long time before deciding to pass it up. I was almost thirty years old, life wasn’t forever, and it was time to think about the future.

In my university essays, like many students I loved using the word ‘lifetime’. A ‘lifetime’ of true love, a ‘lifetime’s’ ambition, blah, blah, blah. Back then I’d genuinely believed there were things that were essentially unchanging. It was only now that I realised, apart from the food you ate, nothing else was fixed. That which you valued most would eventually turn to shit.

I called the HR director, Mr Liu, and asked him whether there were any new arrangements forthcoming for the Sichuan branch. Disappointingly his voice held no trace of his former warmth as he said that first I should concentrate on doing a good job in my current position. I wondered what had gone wrong.

Whatever it was, I was sure Fatty Dong had something to do with it. The jerk had paid his own expenses for a trip
to Head Office in August and since returning he had been abnormally energetic. He stuck his nose into all of the sales team’s business, big and small. He even rejected my proposal for firing Liu Three. I criticised Liu’s lack of ability, and added that Old Lai from Chongqing wasn’t happy with him.

Fatty Dong waved his pipe like a big shot and said, ‘I decide how to make use of people. You can disagree but you still have to obey.’

I was desperate to beat him up, but Zhou Weidong dragged me away.

I still hadn’t got that 50,000 that Old Lai from Chongqing owed me. When I called to rebuke him for not keeping his promise, he said, ‘You’re putting so much pressure on me. All my savings are tied up in this stock. Can you give me a bit more time? I’ll send the money to you personally after I’ve got the goods off my hands.’

I wanted to tell him, Your fucking assets are worth millions but you can’t find a piffling 50,000 yuan? Do you really take me for such an idiot?

The situation wasn’t hopeful. This guy was notoriously devious, and it was quite possible he was thinking up some wicked plan. Fortunately I’d prudently kept all the relevant receipts. Even if he shrugged off the money he owed me, he couldn’t do the same with the money he owed the company.

The work situation disheartened me though. I assumed from Boss Liu’s tone there was little hope of promotion. Even if they kept deducting 5,000 yuan every month, I guessed I’d still be in debt by the time Taiwan returned to the motherland. When I discussed this with Zhou Weidong, he urged
me to change jobs.

‘Your debts are a civil case at most,’ he said. ‘So you don’t have any criminal liability.’

The guy always boasted that he was a graduate of the elite China University of Political Science and Law, but the graduation certificate displayed in his office looked dodgy to me. Also, he without doubt had a vested interest in my future: it might have occurred to him that when I left it would create an opportunity for him.

Last week he’d brought me expense forms to sign and a cursory glance told there was something wrong with them. When I raised the matter, his face darkened and he said, ‘Don’t you do your expenses the same way?’

Without another word, I signed my name, thinking, Is there such a thing as an honest person anywhere?

Whatever happened, I had to stick it out until the end of the year. The year-end double salary bonus and annual commissions would be more than 20,000 yuan, which was worth having. Then in October there was our winter sales fair. As I was in charge of sales, it would be a good chance to boost my income. If I left now, it would be a waste. I’d had bad luck in everything this year, but I hoped that if I could just get through these next few months then everything would be better next year.

My mother had asked someone to tell my fortune, and was told that twenty-nine would be my glory year. I would get promoted and enjoy such success in business that money would flow to me like water: I wouldn’t even have to do much, it would just be like picking up a wallet from the
ground. After hearing this, I closed my door and laughed for ages. Life; if there was no hope, where would we find the strength to carry on?

My mother was still concerned about the apartment situation. She kept telling me to get justice for myself. I didn’t know what to feel about it now. ‘Mother, give me a break, OK? Think of it as money spent because of an illness.’

She glared at me, then took out her frustration on radishes and cabbages. I thought it was a good thing I hadn’t told her about Zhao Yue’s affair or the old lady would probably have gone and killed her. My mother had kept up her kung fu all these years and was a master of many disciplines. She was accomplished at Tai Ji swordplay, and I doubted Zhao Yue would last more than a few bouts with her.

That day after I went back to the Golden Bay Hotel in the hope of finding Zhao Yu and Yang Tao, I ended up driving around the Xiyan district until I was almost out of petrol. Finally I returned to the Golden Bay and asked about them. The girl on the front desk said that she’d seen a woman and man walking out together but didn’t notice their expressions. The woman had her head down, and the man was embracing her in a sleazy way. On hearing that, I had the most peculiar feeling, as if grass was growing in my head. I stubbed out my cigarette, went back to my car and slapped myself hard and repeatedly. When all I could see was stars, I thought: Does tonight make me a winner or a loser?

Bighead Wang and Li Liang received invitations to Zhao Yue and Yang Tao’s wedding.

Bighead Wang swore loyalty to me, saying that he wouldn’t go and give them any money. ‘I’d rather wipe my ass with it.’

Li Liang said that Bighead’s suggestion would result in lead poisoning.

After consulting me, Li Liang went along as my official delegate, to congratulate the happy couple and deliver a gift of 600 yuan in a red envelope.

The wedding was a big do with lots of guests lined up to congratulate them. They’d even invited the main anchor of Chengdu TV station. Zhao Yue’s wedding dress was said by Li Liang to be ravishing, and she smiled like a flower. Apparently she refused several toasts on Yang Tao’s behalf, and someone joked that she was afraid that he’d get too drunk to perform on their wedding night.

Zhao Yue put her head on Yang’s shoulder. ‘Of course,’ she said.

‘I couldn’t watch any more after that’ Li Liang said. ‘When I left, no one noticed. To be honest, Zhao Yue is actually tougher than you.’

I was dining with a client in Neijiang that day but Li Liang called me straight after the wedding ceremony, to give me a rundown. I listened to him while my client, Wang Yu, continued to moan about the company’s rigid systems and low efficiency. When I shot him a fierce look he shut up immediately, as if I’d flicked a switch.

Turning my head away from him, I said softly to Li Liang, ‘Did you congratulate her for me and wish her a happy marriage?’

Li Liang was silent for a while, then said, ‘Don’t think too much about things. This is just life.’

I laughed. ‘Would it have killed you to say a few words for me?’

My hands were trembling uncontrollably. My glass dropped and smashed into pieces on the ground, splashing wine onto my shoes, which shimmered under the light.

My spirits revived, however, after polishing off two bottles of spirits. The ceiling far above me seemed to be shaking far, and the world was brilliantly colourful. Wang Yu’s mouth opened and shut and I wondered what the hell he was talking about. Suddenly I laughed and hit the table. Everyone turned around and glared at me.

‘What the fuck are you smiling about?’ Wang Yu said. ‘What’s made you so happy?’

I laughed until my tears flowed.

‘My wife is getting married today. Let’s have one more drink for her.’

He shook his head. ‘You’ve had too much, kid. You’re full of shit.’

When I stood up to toast him, I slid to the ground. My head hit the table edge and I saw stars. Wang Yu hurriedly came round to help me up.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

I lashed out a foot at him.

‘Fuck it! Fuck you! You’re all bastards.’

A few minutes later, outside the restaurant: a young smartly dressed guy sat on the ground weeping noisily. Passers-by stopped and pointed at him, laughing.

On the other side of town: a couple of newly-weds got into a wedding car and to the cheers of their friends, slowly drove away towards their happy, warm new home.

‘Why did you marry Zhao Yue?’ my sister’s husband had asked me at our wedding party.

‘I love her.’

‘What? I can’t hear. Speak up!’

I’d grabbed the microphone and shouted, ‘I love her!’

All the guests began to laugh, whistle and applaud. Zhao Yue held my hand, and blushed as she looked at me. Tears glistened in her eyes.

That was the 18th of June, my wedding day. My long-, long-ago wedding.