But nevertheless, I had my first goal in life: I wanted to win this woman. I wanted to get a beautiful city woman for my wife. I warned myself again: You must be reserved. Be systematic. Restrain yourself.
After that I started to implement my "game plan" . I had to write papers, and first be conferred with a lectureship. Then I had to publish books, only after which could I win the title of a professor. All of this needs time … I no longer went running at the sports ground. Every minute was precious to me. I had to open up all of my pores, to suck in and digest each Chinese character created by the ancient masters … and then I had to pupate into a butterfly. I had to fashion myself into a sharp spike, and then fix myself unshakeably to a single point. I had to become a bow, and pull the string taught, before I could let the arrow fly. I had to conquer myself, and stand firm.
I'll tell you this: if it weren't for those frightful phone calls, I would have taken a pretty student girl from that school as my wife. And then, wearing a pair of gold filigree glasses and a tan-coloured lamb's wool scarf (an object of passionate desire in my childhood), I would have climbed one by one through the ranks of lecturer, associate professor, professor, Masters supervisor, and Doctoral supervisor … all the way until I was an eminent scholar.
But the phone rang.
The first call I answered was absolutely bizarre.
It was a gruff old voice, and when I picked up, he said, "Diu, it's your uncle."
I instantly flew into a rage. In my head I told him, "And I'm your sainted aunt, you old fart." But at that moment I heard a woman's voice next to the phone say, "Let me, let me talk to him."
After that I went mute. I couldn't speak a single word, my only lines were grunts of acknowledgement. It was Guosheng's woman, who I should have called Aunt according to customs of seniority. She had breast-fed me when I was a baby, and she had a mole on her breast …
"Auntie," I said, "Are you …"
"Diu," she said, "Diu, your Auntie has never had anything to say to you before this, has she?"
"No, please go on, Auntie."
"My nephew, my own nephew, my brother's son, he's taken the university entrance exams. You're in the capital, you can get him into university!"
"Auntie, what were his marks? Which school did he apply to? Was he in the first intake?"
"Hmm, well now," she said, "Diu, ask your uncle. My real brother. Ask your uncle."
There was nothing I could say from then on. I couldn't tell her that I was nothing in the city, just an assistant tutor with a single bed … I couldn't explain it. I could only say, "Okay, I'll ask around for you."
Finally Auntie urged me again and again, "If you have to spend money, spend it. If you need to give people gifts, do it. I'll pay you back."
This was a serious request. I had drunk her milk in the time of famine. I couldn't but ask around. But who could I ask? First I went to the head of the department, Old Wei. "Go and ask the college admissions office," he said, "they know the provincial admissions people a bit."
"I don't know anyone in the admissions office," I said, "Who are they?"
He looked at me pointedly, until I blushed. Then he finally said, "Go and speak to Mr. He, the head of the office. I'll give him a ring."
That summer, to try and get hold of Mr. He, I visited the college admissions office eighteen times in three days. I remember that he suffered from pock-marks, and so he hid himself away. So I called on all the paper-thin contacts I had, constructed through smiling at people in college, and I was even shameless enough to ask students for help, any who were from the city and had some background there. So I asked around everyone I possibly could, and I finally discovered the marks won by Auntie's nephew, "my uncle's kid" .
He got three hundred and eighty seven. That year the National Grade Boundary for college admissions was three hundred and eighty eight. He was one mark off, which meant it was hopeless.
While I was feeling sorry for him, the phone rang again. It was Auntie. "Diu, how's it going? You sorted my nephew out yet?"
"I can't. He's one mark off."
"What did he get?"
"Three hundred and eighty seven. One mark off."
"Humph, just one mark? I'm sure he can get in, can't he?"
I was very alarmed. "Auntie, this isn't my decision! Nobody can change what the National Grade …"
"Diu! Aren't you there in the capital?"
"Well, I, it's …"
"Diu, I'm only begging you this one time. Kid, you can get it done, can't you? When you were small and drank my milk, how you liked to bite! You almost chewed my nipples off. And I never charged you a penny for that milk!"
"Calm down, let me talk to him," said another voice.
"Diu, tomorrow me and your brother are going to come and find you. I don't care if the sky falls in! Just get it done for us!"
