Li Chengpeng: Look at those sand chickens flying in the sky, that is this era

Look at the sand chickens flying across the sky; that is this era.

By Li Chengpeng

Through a grassroots investigation, a grid member in Jiulong Town, Qidong, discovered that a 55-year-old man on social welfare (dibao) had 20,000 yuan in savings for his coffin. His social welfare was promptly canceled. Seeing his stable monthly income of 780 yuan vanish, the man argued multiple times to no avail, rushed into the village committee office, killed the 25-year-old female grid member... and then committed suicide by poisoning himself.

This is a small matter in an era where the Red Dynasty is fully achieving a 'moderately prosperous society' and the national happiness index is 500 times higher than that of Americans (according to Zhang Weiwei). It didn't cause much of a stir. Some people are lying flat, some are immersed in the joy of the state's decision to vigorously boost the economy and lower mortgage down payments to 15%, and some are excitedly celebrating a ten-year-old Japanese boy being stabbed by the national hero Mr. Zhong on the streets of Shenzhen, shouting, "Killed him well, Japanese brats aren't human" and "The mother who picks up the dog-brat from school should have been hacked as well." Sichuan official Huang Yiru said, "No innocent people were killed; our discipline is to kill Japanese people."

The mother of that child, whose intestines were spilled across the ground, was crying and screaming nearby, "Why is this happening, why is this happening..." This scene must be a rumor. There is a very interesting phenomenon in our public discourse: on one hand, the official side never provides details of the case, and on the other, all civilian eyewitness accounts and rumors are labeled as rumors... Blood is quickly dried by the wind, then covered by a new layer of blood, layered over and over, remaining fresh over time, forming the 66 bright red pillars supporting the Hall of Supreme Harmony. This is the foundation of governance.

Returning to the killing of the grid member, some cursed the man on social welfare for having a huge sum of 20,000 yuan while still receiving welfare, some praised the grid member for being diligent and responsible, and some said the killed grid member wasn't the one who reported the man. This is why I often say that smartphones make people's intelligence decline; excessive information fills the brain's circuits like silicone. Can we change our perspective? If the grid members' diligence in investigating the savings of welfare recipients were applied to investigating the assets of officials, there would be no welfare recipients in China. Last month, former Guizhou Provincial Party Secretary Sun Zhigang was tried for embezzling 813 million yuan, helping people subscribe to shares, taking on projects, real estate development, amassing wealth, accepting banquets and travel arrangements... These blatant actions went undetected for ten years, yet a rural old man secretly saving 20,000 yuan of his own was quickly uncovered. Are you fucking blind, or just blind?

Sorry, the more I look at contemporary Chinese history, the easier it is to swear. It's proportional.

Secretary Sun wept in court, saying, "I am sorry to the Party, I betrayed my original intention." I have always been skeptical of this standard repentance line for corrupt officials: "betraying the original intention." It makes it seem as if they were little white rabbits at the start, only becoming big grey wolves because they were misled by wicked people, or as if they were decent women who only fell into the brothels because they couldn't resist temptation... No, they never intended to serve the people from the beginning; they simply and firmly wanted to be promoted, get rich, and sleep with women, and they continued to refine this desire throughout the process. Think about it: Secretary Sun, who embezzled 813 million from society, can perform a crying act and enjoy three dishes and one soup in Qincheng Prison, while the old man on social welfare who saved 20,000 yuan of his own only had suicide. Then you realize that the idiots using smartphones to scroll through the internet saying, "This welfare recipient killed someone after all, the law is heartless," are demonstrating both low intelligence and low character.

Recently, there has been a trend of killing officials. Following a Chongqing police officer being killed by a taxi driver, judge Wang Jiajia in Henan being hacked to death by an old man twenty meters from her home, six judges in Yongzhou being shot dead, and a female director of the Hunan Department of Finance being tied up and thrown downstairs by two men... Have you noticed a phenomenon? In the past, when people encountered suffering, it was popular to go to the government gates and kneel in unison. Later, they stopped kneeling and instead started jumping off bridges and buildings in groups. Recently, it has suddenly evolved into frequent killings of officials. This trajectory—from believing in the 'Great Lord in the Blue Sky,' to despairing of the future, to 'my life for a life'—is the omen of the era.

I often wonder, what kind of era is this? Could it be the tragic "Jiangnan Slave Rebellion" of the late Ming Dynasty? In the wealthiest part of Jiangnan, docile servants who fell into hardship and suffered humiliation suddenly banded together to kill the wealthy gentry. In Tang Yuanpeng's "Jiangnan Dilemma," I read that including the old artist Dong Qichang, the famous travel blogger Xu Xiake, and the thinker Gu Yanwu, all suffered the disaster of their families being exterminated. In times of great change, no one can escape, whether you are a director of the Department of Finance or a village grid member. There were also powerful families who eyed the land of the poor and tried to force acquisitions, only to be outmaneuvered by the poor, who tied the powerful father and son to the sea, exposed them to the wind and sun, and after slicing them slowly (lingchi), pickled their meat into salted meat jerky.

Is the taste of the sashimi of this era surprising? Is it stimulating?

When there is no way to survive, officials will inevitably be killed. Long-term plunder and seizure will inevitably lead to a backlash from the bottom. This is a law. Another law is that no one can stop this game of plunder and seizure, not even the diligent Emperor Chongzhen. The Ming Dynasty was destined to decay and be breached, regardless of whether Nurhaci rose with thirteen sets of armor or the postal worker Li Zicheng rose. In fact, the late Ming was not lacking in money; it had a total of 100 million taels of silver from Spain and Japan, and it didn't lack developed folk handicrafts, nor did it lack the world's largest group of tool-people. It just lacked the ability to adapt to the laws of the era...

In 1644, Emperor Chongzhen, who had changed 50 prime ministers and 14 ministers of war, saw that the court and the countryside were broke, plagued by internal strife and external threats, and finally walked up Coal Hill, sincerely saying a piece of nonsense: "All my ministers misled me," remaining obsessed until death. Around the same time, Cromwell used dragoons to defeat the royal army at the Battle of Marston Moor, laying the foundation for the victory of the bourgeois camp. Britain was destined to welcome the Glorious Revolution and embark on the path of the Industrial Revolution.

History diverged here. The two great empires of the time, Ming China and Great Britain, both faced conflicts between traditional agriculture and emerging capitalism, and both faced confrontations between old and new forces. At the same time, however, they took two opposite paths. Yet our mainstream historians still painfully argue whether it was the Donglin Party or the Eunuch Party that was disloyal to the emperor, leading to the failure of great affairs. These people who cannot do scholarship without kneeling—it would be a pity if they didn't enter the Imperial Servants' Quarters (Jingshifang)...

So you ask, what era is this? This is actually the Post-Ming era. That tree didn't just start growing crookedly now; it was destined to grow crookedly since the Wanli, Hongwu, or even the Qin Dynasty era.

Recently, there is an effort to boost the economy. As a major country of gutter oil catering, the official side claims that profits in Beijing's catering industry have dropped by 88.8% year-on-year. Such an auspicious death number looks like something a feng shui Taoist priest would arrange for a grave. To save the housing market, they've made it like saving a sex life, using 'magic oils' and Viagra. Netizens' poignant evaluation of the lowering of the 'first-loan down payment' is: "Lower the hanging rope by 10 centimeters, so that the shorter brothers can also get up there." I saw the most desolate financial news: a court auctioned the assets of a bankrupt enterprise, starting the bid for a bottle of Sprite originally priced at 6 yuan at 4.2 yuan, because the enterprise had no more assets available for execution.

An entrepreneur friend, who made money by luck and then went bankrupt through hard work, recently prepared to recite the "Heart Sutra." He asked me which audio version was better, and I help him record a segment: "When the Bodhisattva of Compassion observes the deep practice of Prajna Paramita, he sees that the bank cards are all empty, crossing all suffering and misery, training funds, Liao funds, extermination funds, value-added tax, individual income tax, consumption tax, housing pension..."

Companies have no money, individuals have no money, the national treasury has no money, but the mint is too rich. So whenever I see those mainstream economists discussing economic cycles and rescue plans with such pretension, I feel the scene is psychotic. Only a normal economic society has economic cycles. Only when proper medicine is fed is it called a rescue plan. All your various forums are essentially saying: "Dalang, quickly drink this bowl of medicine." It's also like selling flea medicine. Years ago, during the great floods in Henan, fleas and bedbugs were rampant, and the village suffered terribly, also contracting malaria. One day, a master of treating fleas came to the village. He was entertained with good wine and meat for three days, and the master rubbed and rubbed in his lap, and finally produced a ball of black mud, giving it to the village chief, saying, "This is the divine medicine for fleas," and then rowed away... The village chief suddenly remembered he forgot to ask how to use the flea medicine, and led the whole village to the riverbank, shouting, "Master, how do you use this flea medicine?"

The master shouted from afar: "You, catch the flea, pry open its mouth, and stuff the black mud in, and the flea will expire!"

Experts say: Dig deep into the internal problems of enterprises, make the ordinary people dare to consume, and the problems of the Chinese economy can be solved.

The master says: You catch the flea flea, pry open its mouth, and stuff the medicine in, and the flea will be cured.

Yes, the more I look at contemporary Chinese history, the easier it is to swear. It's proportional... You fucking didn't see the delivery driver in Hangzhou who was lying on his electric bike by the roadside; others thought he was asleep, but he was actually dead. A 33-year-old delivery driver in Chengdu, due to a cerebral hemorrhage, was sent to the emergency room. His wife decided to pull the plug and give up treatment, because saving him would have left him a disabled person, and it would have required massive medical expenses. Some say this woman is heartless, that in times of great disaster, everyone flies for themselves. This person pretends not to know how expensive Chinese hospitals are. Chinese health insurance is just a few percent of the elite high-ranking officials' luxury wards being carried by the poor ghosts of the ninety-some percent. The blood and sweat drip along the way, and they call this the "mass line."

At the same time, the Chinese government announced 360 billion yuan in aid to Africa, and the National Development and Reform Commission announced: China has established paired cooperation with 46 African hospitals, sending 25,000 medical teams to help African healthcare. At the same time, Paris has included pets in its health insurance.

So patriots, don't be too indignant about the "Chinese and dogs are not allowed" signs of the past; now, humans are not as good as dogs.

My graduation thesis in the Chinese department was on Lao She's "Rickshaw Boy." At the time, I was deeply moved: "Their way of pulling the rickshaw, their adaptability in bargaining, and their shortcuts and detours in walking, were all enough to make them remember past glories, but this bit of glory could not reduce the future darkness... and Xiangzi, before he had a relationship with the nickname 'Camel,' was a relatively free man."

"Rickshaw pullers, those who were young and strong, owned their own rickshaws—the high-class pullers. This was earned through gritting one's teeth in the wind and rain, and through self-inflicted hardship in every meal and tea. That rickshaw was the total result and reward of all his struggles and hardships, like a badge of a veteran warrior. He was not afraid of hardship; in this trade, he also wanted to prove his ability and intelligence."

Now looking back, Lao She's perception of social development was still superficial. They are all camels, all pulling carts under forty-degree heat, all believing that through struggle, one could be a good ghost even in hell. But Xiangzi still knew how to shout "Why?" to the sky. Today's delivery riders are just dying silently, and people think they are just taking a midday nap.

When Meituan first started, how many people were proud of our country's food delivery—fast, hot, and spicy, with a nine-yuan high-temperature subsidy. Those days of boasting have only passed for nine years... This is your nine-year compulsory education. Can you imagine another nine years?

Speaking of education, I heard they've started implementing chip implants in school uniforms. Isn't it because they're afraid children will get lost and monitoring will fail? Now there are hand-rubbed chips. Linking this to the requirement to order milk lunches upon enrollment, otherwise you'll be left to bake in the sun on the playground—this is the harvesting of leeks even when they've just sprouted.

Since childhood, we were told we were the flowers of the motherland. Now we know that we, these waves of blooming flowers, have always been leek flowers.

It has become popular for college students to hang portraits of Chairman Mao in their dorms. People praise: "This has changed my previous stereotype of contemporary college students being sissy and selfish; this is their spiritual pillar. A dorm illuminated by the sun will surely shine." The comments below say: "The great man's life was only defeated by time, and time will eventually prove his greatness," and others say: "Act quickly, overthrow the capitalists and their agents."

There is a possibility, or a certainty, that class struggle is about to arrive or has already begun. In an era of blurred standards, when the great upheaval comes, people will not become kinder, braver, or better at distinguishing right from wrong. They will only become more insidious, cunning, reversing black and white, and viciously opportunistic. Even close friends will backstab each other. Even if it starts under the banner of "fairness and justice," it will eventually end in the frantic slaughter in the streets. Don't say it has nothing to do with you, don't say that after you die, let the flood come. No one escapes the great upheaval, not even the peaceful Louis XVI. He loved writing diaries, always recording what he ate today, what dance he danced, how many prey he hunted...

On July 14, 1789, he wrote boredly: "Nothing happened today."

That day was precisely when the people stormed the Bastille.

Only on the following day did Louis XVI find out, and he asked: "Oh, have they rebelled?"

Minister: "No, it is a revolution!"

Many things have omens. Returning to the killing of officials and foreigners these days, Japan was like this back then—assassinating the prime minister in a fit of rage, stabbing Tsar Nicholas II of Russia in the head. When the brakes on the gap between rich and poor cannot be pressed, the people are full of resentment. Xenophobia is a highly efficient technique of rule. On the other hand, the public also needs to anesthetize their own misery; give them a knife, let them use courage to fill their disappointed and empty hearts, and their spiritual level suddenly leaps and is sublimated. This is a conspiracy, tried and true, it just depends on who acts better.

Look, before the Jurchens and Li Zicheng attacked, the entire court was full of loyalists who resolutely opposed moving the capital, swearing to live or die with the Emperor. But when the city fell, the loyal ministers hurried to burn their official robes, fearing they would be discovered as court officials. When they learned that Li Zicheng was recruiting former dynasty officials, only twenty or thirty martyred themselves, while two or three thousand officials scrambled to surrender. But what to do if the official robes were burned? They searched the streets for opera troupes to borrow or buy opera costumes to wear. This was quite a sight: two or three thousand officials queuing for jobs at the Chingtian Gate, many wearing opera costumes, which the rebel soldiers looked down upon and intentionally didn't give them food. The loyal ministers said, "Although my stomach is hungry, my heart is happy." Li Zicheng also despised them. Niu Jinxing would not employ those who were old and white-haired. An official named Liu Tingjian said with a thick face: "Don't, don't look at my hair being white now; as soon as you appoint me, my hair will immediately turn black."

Literati are just that shameless, so it was deserved when Liu Zongmin used torture to force out seventy million taels of silver. After reading the history of Chinese loyalists, I have only one conclusion: never trust loyalists; they are either afraid the water is too cold, or they are borrowing opera costumes.

Common people cannot borrow opera costumes, and their acting is more natural. They are calm, even somewhat indifferent and composed, waiting for something... Thanks to a friend called "Nickname Babur" for introducing the book "Vermeer's Hat," which let me know some important materials taken from Yang Shicong's "Yutang Huiji":

At the end of the Ming Dynasty, the world was no longer as it was before. Although the situation had not yet collapsed, some changes had quietly occurred in Beijing. One day, people suddenly started selling sandgrouse. These birds are not native to the Beijing area; their natural habitat is on the southern edge of the Gobi further north. Local legend says they only fly this far south when troops are moving on the northern border and their habitat is disturbed. At the time, people in Beijing vaguely sensed that the appearance of sandgrouse meant Jurchen cavalry were preparing to invade the northern border. But no one dared to speak out for fear of beheading. In the market, people continued to buy and sell sandgrouse every day. This detail is so interesting; ordinary people find it hard to know exactly what state the macro era has reached, but they might not know everything, or knowing it might be useless; they can only buy and sell sandgrouse.

The entire city of Beijing, or the entire empire, was shrouded in a huge and mysterious atmosphere of unease, but people lived in peace, reaching a tacit understanding, occasionally looking up at the sky—look, the sky is full of sandgrouse flying over, swirling yellow sand, as if nothing were wrong. This is a symbol.

You ask me what era this is, it is the era of the sandgrouse.

Li Chengpeng, September 26, 2024