Decoded (32 page)

* I suspect some sections have been removed.

† Taken from the Song of Solomon 2.

86

The symbol of your life is dying out, like one insect being devoured by another.

87

A cage is expecting a bird . . . ‡

‡ Unknown source.

88

This is one road that everyone walks, and so it is easy to recognize.

89

A bird!

90

Could it be that he hasn’t struggled enough? A cage waits for a bird, although . . . §

It is easy to tell by looking at the notebook that its contents are in a jumble, and it is quite obscure at times. But you can see how Rong Jinzhen’s love for Miss Di grew, you can see how his feelings evolved. Especially in the latter sections, his deep feelings for her become apparent. I reckon that the sections Miss Di removed were most likely expressing intimate, emotional things, and they were probably even more obscure than the rest of it. That’s because I once asked her if Rong Jinzhen had expressed his love for her in a straightforward manner and she told me that he hadn’t. However, she also said that perhaps he had, since some of his words had that meaning.

§ This page was completed, but the pages that followed were removed. I don’t know how many are missing.

I asked her over and over again what those words were, but she hesitated and hesitated. Finally she told me that the words were not his own, they were quoted from the Song of Solomon, specifically song number four, the final verse. I looked this up afterwards to learn exactly what he had written. It must have been this: ‘Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.’

Since the notebook contained intimate details of their relationship, it’s not really right for me to criticize her for removing those sections; it’s just that from my point of view, it makes it more difficult for me to understand their relationship because things have been held back, left behind: they are still secret. Thus, I believe you could say that this notebook serves as a sort of cipher that has encrypted their relationship, closed it off to outsiders.

I should say that, with respect to Rong Jinzhen being a man of genius and a formidable cryptanalyst, I grasp enough of the picture; I understand who he was. But in terms of emotion, of love, of the private exchanges that take place between a man and a woman, then I will forever be left in the dark, unable to see the entire picture. The information I do possess that could shed light of this side of Rong Jinzhen is incomplete; pieces are missing. I have a feeling that there are those who do not wish to have this side of Rong Jinzhen revealed to outside people, as if this could remove some of the lustre from his image. Maybe, with respect to someone like Rong Jinzhen, personal feelings, emotions of an intimate nature, feelings of friendship – well, perhaps they shouldn’t have these types of emotions. Because they shouldn’t have these inner feelings, perhaps he was the one who tore them out in the first place. Even if it was difficult for him, someone else might have thought of a means to tear them out.

According to his wife, it was on the afternoon on the third day of his discharge from the hospital that he arrived at her office to personally hand in the notebook. As a security guard, it was her duty to inspect all notebooks as they were turned in, to determine whether or not any pages were missing or there were any pages left over: that was her responsibility. So, after Rong Jinzhen handed her the notebook, she performed her duty and inspected it. He remarked, ‘The notebook contains no work-related secrets, just my own personal ones. If you’re curious about me, you might as well look through it. I hope you do; I also hope to receive your reply.’

Di Li told me that the sun had already gone down by the time she finished reading the notebook and she had to walk back to her dormitory room in the dark. It seemed as though some evil spirit had entered Rong Jinzhen’s room. In fact, Di Li lived in building thirtyeight, whereas Rong Jinzhen lived in the specialists’ building: they were in different directions. Both buildings are still there, the former is made of red brick and has three stories; the latter is two stories tall and constructed from a bluish-green brick. I once stood in front of this bluish-green building; now I’m looking at its photo, and in my mind I can hear her voice: ‘When I arrived at my building, he was there looking at me. He didn’t speak and even though he was sitting, he didn’t ask me to join him. I stood there in front of him and told him I had finished reading his notebook. He asked me to speak, he would listen. I asked him to let me be his wife. He replied: “Yes.” Three days later we were married.’

How incredibly easy, like a story out of the legends – practically unbelievable!

To tell you the truth, when she said this to me she revealed no emotions, neither sadness nor happiness, neither surprise nor wonder; it seemed that even the emotional attachment people have to memories was absent, just as if she were relating the events of a dream for the umpteenth time. It made it very difficult for me to figure out how she felt at that time and how she felt when she told me this story. Perhaps presumptuously, I asked her frankly whether or not she loved Rong Jinzhen. This was her response: ‘I love him as I love my country.’

Afterwards I asked her again: ‘I heard that soon after you were married your adversary began using BLACK, is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And after that he rarely returned home?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you think he regretted marrying you?’

‘Yes.’

‘And how about you, do you regret marrying him?’

I noticed then that this question took her by surprise; she opened her eyes wide, stared at me and replied excitedly: ‘Regret? When you love your country, how can you regret it? No! Forever the answer will be no – !’

Her eyes immediately filled with tears and she began to sniffle as if she was about to cry.

Begun July 1991 in Beijing, Haidian, Weigongcun Completed August 2002 in Chengdu, Qingyang, Luojianian