The Explosion Chronicles (30 page)

When Mingyao was about to leave his brother’s office, his face was as bright as the sun, shining in all directions, to the point that you could even clearly discern the size and shape of the bright specks of dust hidden inside the dark cracks in the wall. In the instant Mingyao passed in front of Mingliang, he turned and, taking advantage of the soft light coming in through the window screen, noticed the astonishment with which his brother was watching him, like a sheet of frozen soil staring up at a sky full of thunder and lightning.

Mingyao drank that cup of three-hundred-yuan-a-
jin
tea but, apart from a faint fragrance and a leafy aftertaste, there didn’t seem to be anything particularly extraordinary about it. Mingliang, however, said that if someone drinks this tea, it is like drinking two thousand eight hundred yuan in one gulp. For the people of Balou, two thousand eight hundred yuan is equivalent to two oxen or a manual tractor. When Mingliang mentioned that every tea leaf in the tea was as valuable as an ox leg, two sheep legs, or four pig legs, Mingyao was stunned into silence. Eventually, he smiled proudly and said,

“Brother, we are truly corrupt.”

Mingliang also smiled but didn’t say a word.

Afterward, the two brothers walked out of the office together. In the hallway, Mingyao saw Mingliang’s six secretaries and four attendants. They were all holding cups of steeped tea, and some of them were also holding documents and newspapers. They were
waiting for the mayor’s summons and permission. Standing in a row in front of the door, when they saw Mingyao they smiled, nodded, and greeted him. When they saw the mayor, they all bowed ninety degrees, until their torsos were perfectly parallel with the ground, even as their heads remained oriented upward, so that the mayor could see their bright, smiling faces. When the two brothers walked past these attendants, Mingyao was reminded of the division commander and regiment commander walking past row after row of soldiers standing at attention. He was reminded of the magnificence and might of a soldier marching next to a general after having received a commendation. A sense of ambition rose up in his chest following his initial disappointment, and his blood began surging to his head. The two brothers passed these secretaries and attendants, then reached the door of the elevator in the middle of the building, whereupon Mingliang softly told Mingyao two things:

“I’m astonished by how ambitious you are.

“… Even if I were the provincial governor, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to accomplish what you ask.”

The elevator attendant helped Mingyao press the “down” button. When the elevator doors opened, Mingyao looked at his brother’s aged but vivid face. “Brother, in a few days you’ll know why I’m like this, and you’ll realize the significance of what I’m doing.” Then, the two brothers waved good-bye, and the elevator door closed.

When Mingyao walked out the door of the county government building, he proceeded to stand in the middle of the road next to a flower garden. He turned to look back at the newly constructed eighty-six-floor government building, standing like an enormous column. The people entering the building hurried past him. He moved away from the middle of the road, where it was most crowded, to the side of the road. He used the knowledge of explosives he had gained in the army and calculated that if he were to blow up this
building, he would need at least three and a half tons of TNT and one thousand six hundred twenty detonators. If he started on the first floor and then made a series of blast holes at one-meter intervals, he would probably need eight thousand sixty blast holes in all. But if he used the sort of laser-guided bombs that the Americans had used to bomb the Chinese embassy, he would need only a handful to complete the job. Upon completing his calculations, and with his hands covered in sweat, he rushed out through the outer gate of the government building complex. The two sentries stationed at their post looked at him but didn’t salute. He asked, “Why are you not saluting me?” With a confused expression, they stared at him, and just as they were about to speak, Mingyao added, “Very soon, whenever you see me you’ll have to salute.” Then he proceeded alone into the crowded street.

3. THE POST-MILITARY ERA (2)

I.

Mingyao finally succeeded in erasing Fragrance and the other girls from his mind, and consequently was able to focus his attention on making money. The office building of the Explosion mining corporation was in a development area to the east of the city, and on the sign in front of the sixteen-story building, all of the characters were embossed in pure gold. In order to prevent people from stealing the sign’s gold lettering, Mingyao put forth a considerable sum and hired some retired soldiers, and had them take turns standing guard in the entranceway to the building. Each shift would consist of six soldiers standing guard, with three on each side—standing at attention just like the soldiers stationed at the entrance to the capital square or the presidential palace. Every time Mingyao came
into or out of the building, all six sentries would immediately stand at attention and salute him, and the sound of them clicking their heels together would be like sticks striking each other in unison. The sentries were perfectly coordinated, like Tiananmen Square’s flag bearers saluting and standing at attention. These sentries worked in shifts of two hours, and from the first shift they attracted astonished and delighted stares, as everyone crowded around and applauded. From eight o’clock in the morning until evening, the streets were full of people surging back and forth, and from this everyone came to know that the Explosion Mining Corporation had been established. The people knew that the director of the corporation was the mayor’s younger brother, Mingyao. They also knew that Mingyao had previously been recognized as an exemplary hero by the military but was now Explosion’s richest tycoon.

Just how rich was he? Mingyao had as much money as there was water in the river flowing through the county, and as much money as there was gold, copper, tin, and coal in the surrounding mountains. But no matter how much money Mingyao had, every morning at 6:10, as the sun was coming up in the east, he would put on his army uniform, get a national flag, and march a procession of soldiers out of the office building’s eastern entrance. Then he himself would go to the square in front of the building and slowly raise the flag to the height of a four-story building. He would watch as the soldiers standing guard marched over to the entrance to the company building, where they would stand at attention, would salute, then would have a changing of the guard. Afterward, he would lead the six sentries back to the eastern entrance of the building.

After the sentries returned to their dormitory, Mingyao would take the elevator back to his office and begin a day filled with assorted issues of extraction, excavation, sales, contracts, expenditures, and revenue.

This continued until the first day of the eighth lunar month. The entire city was preparing to go to work as usual when suddenly, at eight o’clock, loudspeakers, trumpets, and bugles began blaring out of the office building’s windows. Initially they played cacophonous opera music, but soon this transitioned into an extraordinarily loud and clear rendition of the national anthem. Next, Mingyao, dressed in his military uniform, led the way, marching out of the main entrance of the building. Behind him, at one-meter intervals, were three young men holding military flags. Behind them, there was a phalanx consisting of eighteen soldiers, in which everyone was blowing a trumpet, performing military songs and the national anthem. Another three meters behind them, there was another regiment marching in a square phalanx in which all of the soldiers were carrying red flags, with two-meter-long flagstaffs plated in pure gold. Another three meters behind them there was another bugle-blowing phalanx, followed by another flag-bearing phalanx with gold-plated flagstaffs. In this way, the precession, consisting of one phalanx followed by another, marched westward from the entrance to the mining company headquarters, until it arrived at a building that had been under construction for a number of years but, for unspecified reasons, was never completed. The marchers stopped there, blew their horns, and then proceeded to perform opera songs and the national anthem while facing that dilapidated building surrounded by collapsed scaffolding and steel rebars. Then Mingyao led the twelve-phalanx procession around the dilapidated building, whereupon the scaffolding disappeared, as did the rusting steel rebars. In less than half an hour, not only was this building that had remained incomplete for years suddenly completed, but it was completed using the city’s trendiest Italian porcelain tiles.

The procession passed in front of this newly erected building and proceeded west. The rising sun was shining on the marchers’
backs, as though every phalanx was covered in an enormous sheet of natural glass. Mingyao’s clothing was soaked in sweat, which dripped onto the ground like a thunderstorm. Initially, the tide of people going to work—including those biking, driving, walking, and taking the bus—simply stepped aside to let the procession pass, but later they started following behind, and eventually they started organizing into similar phalanxes of their own. Music poured forth like a river, and the military sounds permeated half the city. There was a recently built overpass, for which the builders had dug a pit twenty meters deep. Laborers worked continuously to drain water out of the pit, but when the procession passed by and performed in front of it and saluted in unison workers on the construction site, the bridge piers suddenly rose up in the middle of the street and the procession had to circle around them, whereupon the underpass itself rose up out of nowhere.

At precisely noon, the procession arrived at the square. By that point the procession had grown so large that it was impossible to say how many people had joined or what form it had taken. Apart from Mingyao’s phalanx, which still retained its original organization, the remainder of the procession was like a chaotic assembly. When it passed an old house that had already been slated for demolition, the entire procession shouted in unison and the marchers proceeded to demolish the house themselves. When they passed a residence that was in the process of being built, the procession played music and shouted slogans in front of the construction site, and in no time the building was completed. They passed a road that was being built, and when they walked over those broken bricks and shattered tiles, they left behind a brand-new asphalt road.

The buildings in the square functioned as the symbol and the heart of all of Explosion’s architecture. Initially, the three-hundred-mu concrete square sat under the open sky, and it took a while for the
surrounding Hall of the People, World Trade Center, and International Conference Center to be erected. Meanwhile, Mingyao himself eventually arrived in the square and instructed his troops to rest in front of the memorial stele for the trailblazing oxen. They wiped away their sweat, drank some water, replenished their crackers and milk, and then stood once again in formation. Mingyao took several special recognition medals printed with the national emblem, military flag, and five stars and pinned them to the left side of his chest; below them he pinned row after row of second- and third-class medals, until his uniform was completely full of medals. Then he turned around and looked back at the soldiers in the various phalanxes and saw that on their chests they had all sorts of merit badges and medals of honor. These medals sparkled in the sunlight as though all of the gold in the mine’s storehouses had been laid out under the sun. Kong Mingyao gazed at those medals and was half-blinded by their bright reflection. After his eyes had grown accustomed to the gold’s brilliance, he lifted his fist and shouted,

“Is there anything the people of Explosion cannot accomplish?”

The troops all raised their fists and shouted in response,

“No matter how vast the earth and sky might be, they are still dwarfed by the resolve of the people of Explosion.”

Mingyao waved his fist and shouted,

“Into what kind of city are we going to build Explosion?”

They pounded their chests and shouted back,

“We are going to transform Explosion into the likes of Beijing, Shanghai, Tokyo, and New York!”

Mingyao jumped onto the podium under the memorial to the trailblazing oxen. Opening his mouth until it was as large as a city gate, he shouted at the top of his lungs,

“Comrades, brothers … for the sake of Explosion, for the sake of the People, for the sake of the Reform and Opening Up campaign,
for the sake of the modern reconstruction of traditional China, and to enable China’s construction to overtake that of Japan, America, and Europe, and become a socialist superpower, everyone please put aside your selfish desires and march with us. Forward! … Forward! … Forward!”

Each time Mingyao shouted
Forward!
he raised his fist higher and shouted louder and louder, to the point that the third time his fist came so close to the sun that it burned the back of his hand and he shouted so loudly that he shredded the back of his throat and blood came gushing out. He smelled the blood and saw that as the troops were shouting with him, they were clenching their hands so tightly into fists that they ripped open their blood vessels, and they were all shouting so loud that their voices became hoarse. At that point Mingyao hopped down from the memorial statue and gave one final shout: “Comrades, follow me! Forward, march!”

Mingyao began marching the same march that he had practiced countless times while in the army, with his fists to his chest and his knees lifted high, and his feet parallel with the ground. He marched forward step by step, so that all of the medals on his chest jangled in unison with his footsteps. The troops continued until they reached the site where the Hall of the People was being built, and then they marched around the scaffolding three times. Instantly, a Hall of the People large enough to hold fifty thousand people sprang up like a tree. They marched three times around the half-finished World Trade Center; then he ordered his troops to stand in silence, staring straight ahead, whereupon Explosion’s tallest twin towers were erected. Finally, he led the troops and virtually all of Explosion’s other residents who were following behind them, and together they proceeded to the International Conference Center on the other side of the square. He then ordered the crowd behind him to spread out, and once they had completely surrounded the
construction site, he stood on the roof of a crane truck that was being used to construct the center. Raising both fists into the air, he shouted into a microphone,