Pirated copies

Feng Yun had something on his mind and got up very early the next morning.

After several days of running around, Zhao Dannian was still sleeping soundly, his snores shaking the heavens.

Feng Yun left the dormitory alone, washed up briefly, and went looking for somewhere quiet to practice his boxing. To his surprise, as soon as he left the dormitory area, he found the athletic field packed with students running, with Yang Rui at their head.

In his thin tank top, Yang Rui looked healthy and strong. Glistening sweat slid down the smooth contours of his muscles. Girls doing their morning reading stole glances at him from time to time, while the bolder ones pointed at him from a distance, talking softly and laughing loudly.

It was an age of letting youth and individuality run free.

Feng Yun walked slowly toward a small grove, found a relatively open patch of level ground, warmed up, and began practicing his boxing.

He practiced Chen-style Tai Chi. Because the bureau chief enjoyed practicing qigong, the bureau's civil servants had taken up various disciplines too. Those with more traditional tastes practiced boxing, or the more difficult broadsword and spear routines. As Feng Yun kept practicing, he developed an interest himself and never missed a day.

Yang Rui spotted Feng Yun as he ran past, nodded openly to him, and continued running laps.

Feng Yun nodded back and carried on with his Tai Chi.

By the time he finished a set, Feng Yun had worked up a light sweat and felt wonderfully comfortable. Yet when he looked up again, Yang Rui was still running, without slowing in the slightest.

A group of young men followed Yang Rui, each as sturdy as the next, quite unlike the students Feng Yun had seen on his inspections of other schools.

Still, to an old-fashioned man like Feng Yun, sports were ultimately just a sideline. He stood watching for a while, waited for his sweat to dry, then returned to the dormitory to wake Zhao Dannian so they could go eat at the cafeteria together.

The cafeteria was at the far end of the athletic field. Before they reached it, they could smell a rich, meaty aroma. Ravenously hungry, Feng Yun exclaimed in surprise, "Old Zhao, you people at Xibao Middle School are living like immortals."

Zhao Dannian was equally surprised. He rubbed his stomach and looked around, saying almost to himself, "I've only been away a few days, but it feels like a different place."

"Never mind all that. Let's fill our stomachs first." Feng Yun hitched up his clothes and strode into the courtyard.

Inside the courtyard, meat broth bubbled in several large pots, with snow-white slices of radish bobbing up and down. Another pot stood right in the center of the courtyard, where anyone who wanted some could ladle it out themselves. Chopped pickled vegetables were kept in jars beside the broth, also free for anyone to take.

Feng Yun and Zhao Dannian chose stools along the edge and sat down. Just then, one pot of broth ran out. Several students called to the cook, then replaced it with another pot themselves and set it back in the middle of the courtyard.

"I'll have a serving too. Four steamed buns, plus broth and pickles. How much?" Feng Yun took out some change and meal tickets and handed them over at the stove.

The cook was so busy his face shone with grease. Cheerfully accepting the money, he counted out four buns and handed them over. "Here are your four buns. The broth and pickles are free. Drink as much as you want and eat as much as you want, but you can't take any away."

"Free?" Feng Yun repeated.

"Free," the cook confirmed.

"You're still running a communal kitchen here?" To Feng Yun, that was the only possible explanation.

The cook paused, then laughed. "What communal kitchen? Didn't I charge you for the buns? The broth's made from big bones. That and the pickles were bought by the Rui Study Group students. Rui said there'd be as much as everyone wanted, free of charge. Just enjoy your meal."

Bones were much cheaper than meat. Yang Rui only had to show his face at the Xibao Meat Processing Plant to buy several dozen jin of bones at wholesale prices, for just a few mao in total. Locally grown radishes and cabbages were even cheaper and had always been the cafeteria's main vegetables. For very little money, the resulting broth delighted students who had gone so long without a taste of meat. With a few mao's worth of pickles added in, Yang Rui had lifted the spirits of the entire school at little cost.

As the saying went, it was hard to criticize someone whose food you had eaten. The students had no idea how many test papers the Rui Study Group sold each day or how much profit it made. All they saw was that the cafeteria food had improved and that they now had almost-free practice papers to work on. Naturally, praise poured in.

Even the cafeteria cook was happy to volunteer for overtime now that he had more ingredients to work with.

Zhao Dannian was always very stern and proper in front of the students. Though inwardly surprised, he remained silent in the corner, drinking his broth.

Feng Yun slurped away enthusiastically, talking all the while. "This broth is delicious. And there's fat simmered out of the marrow, coating the white radish. So fragrant..."

After drinking some broth, Feng Yun tasted the pickles and praised them too. "Crisp and sweet on the first bite, then savory and salty as you chew. Best eaten on their own with broth, and even better with a meal. A rare treat, a rare treat. Of course, the rarest thing is that they're free."

The last remark was the real point. Zhao Dannian shifted uneasily on his stool. In his decades as a principal, he had experienced countless things, but this was the first time he had ever heard of anything like this.

A private individual subsidizing a public cafeteria? Who would do that?

Zhao Dannian thought of Yang Rui's performance the day before, but he simply could not understand his motives.

In fact, anyone who had lived through a market economy would have recognized what was happening at the first whiff. Yang Rui was spreading the benefits around, much as a favored graduate student who landed a good project might treat his classmates to dinner.

Normal people had normal reactions. They grew jealous when they saw someone reap a great benefit, and felt even more aggrieved if that benefit came from the collective. So, if the beneficiary voluntarily paid out a little, everyone else naturally felt better. Even country gentry in ancient China whose hearts were as venomous as snakes had to put on a public show of civic-minded generosity, distributing porridge and waiving grain payments. It was likewise a matter of pricking themselves to drain away resentment, about as effective as bloodletting for heatstroke.

The Rui Study Group, with its thirty-odd members, already earned around fifty yuan a day, more than they could spend on food and other needs. Pocketing that money would naturally make it too hot to handle, while hoarding it would only attract thieves. Having Yang Rui take charge and distribute it generously produced rather good results.

Had it not still been so early, Yang Rui would already have been preparing to establish school scholarships.

Just as Zhao Dannian and Feng Yun were finishing their meal, the Rui Study Group members came in with their books, led by Yang Rui.

Lately, they had been running first and studying afterward, fitting their three meals in between to save time.

"Yang Rui, come over here." Once Zhao Dannian saw that Yang Rui had bought his breakfast, he waved him over.

Some students, intimidated by the principal's formidable reputation, grew anxious for Yang Rui. They unconsciously set down their bowls and chopsticks and turned to watch.

Yang Rui turned briskly, sat down before Zhao Dannian with a smile, and greeted them. "Principal, you and this gentleman are both here. I saw you practicing boxing earlier, but I was leading the run, so I didn't come over to say hello..."

"That's all right. Do you run every morning?"

"Yes. A little exercise leaves you refreshed, and it helps build your physique." Yang Rui had changed after running, but he was still wearing a tank top, deliberately showing off his defined muscles.

Six-pack abs had once been something Yang Rui could only dream of. Now that he finally had the beginnings of them, how could he pass up a chance to show them off?

Zhao Dannian nodded expressionlessly and asked, "How much do the free meat broth and pickles in the cafeteria cost each day?"

"It's bone broth," Yang Rui corrected him, then continued, "My eldest maternal uncle works at the Xibao Cannery. I asked their warehouse for some big bones they couldn't sell. They didn't cost much. It works out to less than a yuan a day."

Hearing how cheap it was eased Zhao Dannian's mind a little. He asked, "But a yuan a day is still thirty yuan a month. Where does the money come from?"

"From selling mimeographed test papers."

"I remember you saying yesterday that you kept clear accounts for the money from those papers. Is that right? Bring me the ledger." Zhao Dannian spoke so quickly that Feng Yun had no chance to stop him.

Yang Rui agreed and sent Wang Guohua and Cao Baoming back for the ledger, leaving Feng Yun to complain quietly, "That temper of yours. If you don't look at his accounts, you can still speak up for him if something goes wrong. Once you've seen them, if this keeps going, you won't be able to avoid being implicated either."

"Why should I avoid being implicated? I can't wait until he makes a mistake before trying to rescue him. I have to protect him before he makes one. Isn't that what a principal is there for?" When Zhao Dannian stiffened his neck, his stubborn streak had taken hold, and Feng Yun could do nothing about it.

Before long, Yang Rui and the others returned carrying the ledger.

Zhao Dannian cleared the bowls and chopsticks off the table and began reading it on the spot.

Some Rui Study Group students, along with enthusiastic students who often attended its lessons, stayed in the courtyard, watching everything unfold with worried faces.

The bookkeeping was simple, but the entries were very clear. Yang Rui had made a special trip into town to learn how to do it from an acquaintance.

With only a few dozen yuan recorded each day, Zhao Dannian soon finished reading. He had no grounding in accounting and could not tell whether the books showed signs of falsification, but he did notice the daily profit of fifty yuan.

His mouth went dry as he asked, "What are you planning to do with this money?"

"Actually, I'd already intended to report to you. We might as well discuss it here." Yang Rui looked around at the students and gave them a friendly smile, then gathered his words. "First, let me explain where this money comes from. The materials and equipment we use for the test papers supplied to other schools were funded by contributions from the thirty-odd members of our Study Group. The more papers we mimeograph, the lower the average cost per paper. So, to reduce costs and lessen everyone's financial burden, we printed some extra copies for students at other schools. It's equivalent to a group purchase-buying as a group."

Compared with his previous public explanation to the Rui Study Group members, the concept Yang Rui presented this time was even more advanced.

A group purchase implied buying first and printing afterward, making it more like the procurement regularly carried out by state organizations. That distinguished it from the commercial circulation of printing first and selling afterward. If no one picked apart his wording, it made no difference what he called it. But if someone did insist on the distinction, this explanation might spare Yang Rui several years in prison.

As Yang Rui knew from his memories, 1982 was a year of crackdowns on economic crime, and 1983 a year of crackdowns on criminal offenses. Both were years that demanded extra caution. At a time like this, blithely engaging in a market economy could easily mean arrest in 1982 and trial in 1983, costing someone half his life.

Of course, the Yang Family had a certain amount of influence in their home area and would not ordinarily allow Yang Rui to suffer unjustly. Still, if a sentence or two could save everyone the possible trouble of running around pleading his case, Yang Rui was happy to spend the breath.

He paused for a few seconds to let everyone digest his explanation, then continued clearly, "Because the exact quantities of materials are hard to calculate, we allowed a little extra when collecting the costs. That's why there's a surplus. But we didn't print the papers for the sake of having a surplus... So, now that we have one, we want the whole collective to benefit. I have a few ideas."

Zhao Dannian and Feng Yun exchanged a glance, both smiling. Zhao Dannian in particular let out a great sigh of relief at Yang Rui's explanation.

If they stuck to that explanation and kept clear accounts, there should be no problem even if the higher authorities investigated.

"Go ahead." Zhao Dannian looked unusually kindly.

Yang Rui inwardly sighed with relief and smiled. "My first idea is to apply to you to keep the lights on longer at night and delay lights-out. Also, the classrooms used for evening study are dim. We should add at least two powerful lights to make it easier for students to review at night."

"Oh?"

"The extra electricity bill would come out of the Rui Study Group's accounts."

"All right." Zhao Dannian immediately accepted the suggestion. His obstinacy concerned matters of principle. As the principal of a township middle school perpetually struggling for funds, he had no reason to refuse this supplement.

Yang Rui breathed another sigh of relief and, considerably reassured, offered his second proposal. "My second idea is for the Rui Study Group to subsidize the kitchen according to each day's surplus. Things like bone broth and pickles, and preferably some tofu and cooking oil as well..."

This time, before Zhao Dannian could speak, the students began applauding.

"That's a good thing. I agree," Zhao Dannian said readily.

"Third, printing the papers takes manpower. Here's my plan: students willing to do work-study can help out part-time for two or three hours a day. We'll give them an allowance of one mao per hour. If only a few students sign up, everyone who signs up can work. If a lot sign up, they can take turns..."

This was the riskiest part. Hired labor and surplus value were dangerous terms in those days. The 1980s placed no value on job openings. Only after the mass layoffs at state-owned enterprises, once the Chinese people had felt that bone-deep pain, would "creating jobs" replace "exploiting workers."

To Yang Rui's surprise, Zhao Dannian said firmly, "Work-study is good. I agree."

Hearing his stance, Feng Yun could only fret helplessly.

Delighted, Yang Rui said, "By that calculation, printing just five hundred sets a day would use up almost all the surplus. If there's more later, we can buy some teaching equipment."

"There could be more?" Zhao Dannian thought five hundred sets was already plenty.

Yang Rui smiled and nodded, looking at the principal as an ally. "We're publishing them unit by unit. We haven't even finished mathematics yet. By the time everything's out, next year's syllabus should be released too. We might see a leap."

Zhao Dannian was a practical man. Narrowing his eyes, he said, "Keeping up the current quantity would be very good already. Of course, keep it up as long as you can. There's no need to force it..."

The principal's expression relaxed, and the students began chatting away without a care. The cafeteria courtyard instantly filled with all manner of outlandish talk.

For a moment, the scene could not have been more harmonious.

Then Huang Ren came stumbling toward them at a run. Before he even reached the courtyard gate, he shouted, "Bad news... bad news... There are pirated copies in the county!"