Western State Moon

Author: Wang Yuewen
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-11-01
Features: When Guan Yinda walked past the committee compound, he suddenly heard someone behind him whispering, "Secretaries are easily corrupted." He immediately felt heat rise in his ears and didn’t dare to turn back. Who had said this? Recently, Tao Fan had just been appointed as the Secretary of the Xizhou Committee, and Guan Yinda suddenly seemed more noticeable. He had been Tao Fan’s secretary for nearly three years, yet few people who knew him before recognized him. Six years ago, when he was about to graduate and be assigned a job, Professor Wang, the head of his department, told Guan Yinda that the Provincial Organization Department was selecting candidates and had taken a liking to him. Guan Yinda asked what position he would be taking. Professor Wang said that the higher authorities needed someone with writing skills. Professor Wang didn’t intend to use his influence to help him; he simply advised Guan Yinda on how to navigate the bureaucracy. He said the most important thing was to shed his poetic nature. The authorities had noticed him because of his published works, but they wanted him to write official documents, not poetry. Though Guan Yinda was confused, he knew that entering the bureaucracy was probably his best option. He just couldn’t understand how poetry and the bureaucracy were so incompatible. In ancient times, officials were all skilled in poetry and calligraphy, and they were quite refined. Over the past six years, Guan Yinda had seen many things. He watched as Zhang Zhaolin, the committee’s secretary, gradually transformed his hairstyle into a large pompadour and became a deputy secretary. Wu Mingxian, the deputy secretary, whose hair had become increasingly thin, eventually went bald and rose to become the committee’s secretary. As for Wu Ziquan, the former secretary of the committee, who had once been straight-backed and radiant, he soon became hunched and wrinkled after retiring. As for Guan Yinda himself, he had once been called a "bookworm" behind his back a few years ago. But ever since he started working as Tao Fan’s secretary, everything went smoothly. However, he could no longer be a poet. If it weren’t for his classmates mentioning it at a reunion, no one would have guessed that this overly mature young man had once been a poet. "Secretaries are easily corrupted!" Guan Yinda heard someone whispering behind him about secretaries, but he wasn’t angry—just inexplicably embarrassed. It was as if they could see through his back and discern some corruption in him, though he didn’t believe he was corrupt in any way. Later, he often reflected on that statement, and the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Once you become a secretary, you’re surrounded by many people. There are leaders from lower-level departments and cities, entrepreneurs, and people from all walks of life. These people surround you, flatter you, and offer small favors, but they may not take you seriously in their hearts. If you’re not careful, you might forget who you are. There was also something he could only think about in his heart, something he could never say aloud. He imagined that if the leader he followed as a secretary were an idiot, he would only see petty and corrupt things, making it even harder to avoid being corrupted. It’s said that there’s a popular saying in American folklore: "The president is unreliable." Guan Yinda applied this saying to himself, silently telling himself, "Leaders are unreliable." But this was mostly just Guan Yinda’s private humor. Others didn’t see it that way. There was a strange virus called "cult of personality" that permeated the air at all times. People in the bureaucracy were easily infected by it, and their eyes would start to twinkle, creating all sorts of bizarre illusions, mistaking their superiors for deities. Three days after Tao Fan became the secretary of the committee, he gave a speech at a meeting of cadres at the county and division levels. The title sounded grand.