Black Gold 1983

The mine in July was as hot as a steamer. There was no wind on the working face, the air was humid and stuffy, mixed with the smell of coal dust and sweat, stuck in my throat, making it difficult to breathe. Tian Sui'er squatted in the corner, wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her hand, quickly scribbled a few notes in her notebook, then closed the notebook and put it in her pocket. She stood up, picked up the pickaxe leaning against the coal wall, and, imitating Ma Maocai, swung it and smashed it once.

The pickaxe struck the coal face, bouncing back and making her hands numb. Only a small piece of coal broke off and rolled to her feet. She squatted down, picked up the piece of coal, looked at it in her palm, and then put it back. "This job is really not easy," she said, wiping her hands on her trouser leg.

"It's like this at the beginning." Ma Maocai stood to the side, holding a steel pick in his hand, prying open a large lump of coal stuck in the coal face. His movements were nimble; with a pry of the pick, the lump of coal rolled off, thicker than his thigh. "You'll get used to it after a while; calluses will form on your hands, and it won't hurt anymore."

Tian Sui'er looked at her hands; several blisters had formed on her palms, but they hadn't broken. She put down the pickaxe, took out her notebook from her pocket, and wrote down Ma Maocai's actions. "Brother Maocai, how many years have you been doing this?"

"It's been more than ten years." Ma Maocai leaned the steel shovel against the coal wall, took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "I used to work in other mines, and later I followed Brother Ren."

Tian Sui'er jotted down a few notes in her notebook, then looked up. "What's the difference between your previous work at another mine and your current situation?"

Ma Maocai thought for a moment, then exhaled a puff of smoke. "That old mine wasn't safe. The support was inadequate, and rocks kept falling from the roof. I quit after six months. Back then, I thought that if I ever opened my own mine, I would always put safety first." He paused, looking at Tian Sui'er, "Later, Brother Ren opened this mine, and I followed him. He runs mines differently from others. He truly values ​​the lives of his workers."

Tian Sui'er didn't speak, her head down, scribbling rapidly in her notebook. Ren Ye, standing not far away, heard Ma Maocai's words. He squatted on the other side of the working face, lit his cigarette, and remained silent.

By the end of July, Tian Sui'er had been living in the mining area for over a month. Every day she went down the mine, kept records, and chatted with the workers. Her notebook grew thicker and thicker, filled with dense writing, and in some places even she had drawn diagrams. One day she opened her notebook, read through what she had written, and stared at it for a long time. Then she closed the notebook, stood up, and walked to the windowsill. The pink flower on the windowsill was still blooming; she didn't know its name, but it had been blooming quietly.

"Rinno, I want to write this into a book." Tian Sui'er didn't turn around; her voice was soft but earnest. Renno stood behind her. "Write it. I said I'd be your first reader once you've finished it."

In August, Tian Sui'er began to write. She sat at her desk, writing from morning till night, except for meals and when she went down the mine. She wasn't writing the kind of lofty literature, but about real people. She wrote about the miners' names, their faces, their hands, the jokes they told underground, how the first thing they did after coming up was to take out a cigarette, light it, and take a deep drag, and how they waited at the mine entrance for their wives and children. Her pen moved quickly, as if those images had been stored in her mind for a long time and had finally found an outlet.

Renye would sometimes sit beside her for a while, watching her write with her head down. Sunlight streamed in from the window, falling on her and softly illuminating her profile. The flowers on the windowsill swayed gently in the breeze, like quiet spectators.

In mid-August, Tian Sui'er wrote a chapter about Ma Maocai. It described how he left another mine for Xi'er, how he worked with Renye, how he worked underground, and how he chatted with the workers during breaks. She showed the chapter to Renye, who read it once, then again, and finally put down the manuscript.

"Well written. You've brought Brother Maocai to life." Tian Sui'er smiled and put the manuscript away. "There's still so much I haven't written. Brother Tiejun, Uncle Dehou, Uncle Dewang, and those workers whose names I don't know—everyone has a story." She glanced out the window; the distant mountain ridges gleamed with a pale golden light in the setting sun. "I want to write about them all, one by one, so that more people can know their lives, their joys and sorrows."

On August 20th, Tian Sui'er had written half of her manuscript. She stopped, read through the completed section from beginning to end, made some changes, and added some details. Ren Ye lay on the bed next to her, holding a coal mine safety manual in his hand. It was a few years ago that Ren Shouyi had bought; the edges were curled, and it was full of the old man's circles and annotations.

"Renno, do you think anyone will read this book after it's published?" Tian Sui'er's voice came from the desk, carrying a hint of uncertainty.

Renye put down the booklet and turned to look at her. "Yes. The miners' wives will read it, the miners' children will read it, and even those who have never been down a mine will read it. Because what you're writing isn't just anything, it's about people. People will always read books about people."

Tian Sui'er didn't speak, lowered her head, and continued writing. The pen tip scratched across the paper. Outside the window, the loudspeaker of the mining area broadcast the day's production tasks; the female announcer's voice drifted through the twilight. The flowers on the windowsill swayed gently in the breeze, their pink petals shimmering softly in the setting sun, like quiet witnesses.

By the end of August, Tian Sui'er had completed most of her manuscript. Every day, besides going down the mine, she would sit at her desk, her pen gliding across the paper with a soft, rustling sound, like a silkworm nibbling on mulberry leaves. Ren Ye would sometimes sit beside her, watching her write, watching her stop and frown, watching her flip back to the beginning to revise a few words, and then continue writing.

One afternoon, she came up from the mine and, instead of going straight back to her house, sat on a rock beside the wellhead. The workers at the wellhead were finishing their work, climbing up one by one, their bodies blackened by coal, their faces blackened, only their eyes shining. They saw Tian Sui'er sitting there; some waved, some called out "Sui'er," and some grinned, revealing a set of white teeth. Tian Sui'er waved back at them. She sat there for a long time, watching the workers walk away one by one, until the wellhead became quiet, with only the creaking of the winch's steel cable in the wind remaining.

Renno walked over and sat down next to her. "What's wrong?"

Tian Sui'er didn't answer immediately, looking down at her hands. The blisters on her palms had turned into calluses, hard and yellowish, not much different from the hands of those workers. "Renye, I don't want to leave."

Renye paused, taken aback. "Not leaving?"

"Hmm. I want to stay here and finish the book. Writing about the mining area is easier for me than writing it in the provincial capital." She looked up at him. "Is that alright?"

Renye looked at her; her eyes were brighter than before, a brightness that shone not from the light, but from her heart. "Okay. You can stay as long as you want. You can stay in the mine's huts; meals will be cooked, water will be fetched, and you won't have to worry about anything."

Tian Sui'er smiled, then looked away, gazing at the hazy sky in the distance. "After we finish writing, we'll go back to the provincial capital."

In early September, the coal piles in the West No. 2 mining area had grown even taller. A new transport line had opened, and coal trains were being loaded directly onto the branch line north of the mine, carrying the high-quality coal from West No. 2 to the provincial capital and other provinces. Ma Tiejun stood beside the mine shaft, watching the trains pass by in the distance, grinning broadly. "Brother Ren," he said, "our coal has gone to other provinces."

Renno squatted down by the well and lit a cigarette. "I'll run even further in the future."

Tian Sui'er stood to the side, notebook in hand, jotting something down. She finished a line, looked up, and gazed at the departing train. "Renye, what do you think happens to that coal after it's burned?"

"To become light and heat. To illuminate other people's houses and warm their beds."

Tian Sui'er didn't speak, but lowered her head and made another note in her notebook.

On September 15th, Tian Sui'er finished the last chapter of her manuscript. She put down her pen, leaned back in her chair, and let out a long breath. The sunlight outside the window was beautiful, shining on the flowers on the windowsill, their pink petals swaying gently in the breeze. She stood up, walked to the windowsill, reached out and touched the petals, then turned to look at Ren Ye.

"Finished writing?"

"Finished writing."

Renye walked over, picked up the thick stack of manuscript paper on the table, and saw the title on the top page—"Eight Hundred Meters Down the Mine".

He turned to the first page; the handwriting was dense and neat, without a single correction. Tian Sui'er stood beside him, watching him turn the page, her fingertips lightly gripping the hem of her clothes. "It's all true stories, about real people. I didn't make anything up."

"It's good that it wasn't made up. What's real is what moves people." Renye put down the manuscript and looked at her. "Have you decided how to handle this?"

"I want to send a copy to the publisher first to see if anyone wants it." Tian Sui'er's voice was not loud, but it was very steady. "If no one wants it, I'll print a few copies myself and give them to the miners."

Renye thought for a moment. "Let's send it first. Let's try sending it out."

On September 20th, Renye accompanied Tian Suier to the county town to mail the manuscript. The envelope was bulging and covered with thick stamps. Tian Suier handed the envelope to the person inside the post office window, watched as the envelope was taken in, stamped, and disappeared behind the window.

"It's been mailed." Her voice trembled slightly.

Renye put his hand on her shoulder. "Just wait. If it's good stuff, someone will recognize it eventually."

In October, the publishing house in the provincial capital replied. Tian Sui'er opened the letter, her hands trembling slightly. After reading it, she looked up at Ren Ye, her eyes red-rimmed. "They said they were willing to publish it."

Renye took the letter and read it through. The letter was short but politely worded—"The manuscript is of high quality and aligns with our publishing direction; we plan to include it in next year's publishing plan."

"I told you, good things will always find their place." Renye folded the letter and put it in the envelope. "Just wait, your book will be printed next year."

Tian Sui'er didn't speak, standing by the window, looking at the quiet mining area outside. In the distance, the winch at the West No. 2 mine shaft was still turning, the steel cable creaking and groaning, the sound carrying far and wide in the autumn wind. She watched for a long time, then turned around, walked to her desk, sat down, picked up her pen, opened her notebook, and began to write again.

"What are you still writing?"

"The epilogue," Tian Sui'er said without looking up, "is about how this book was written, about the people who helped me. It's about Brother Tiejun, Brother Maocai, Uncle Dehou, Uncle Dewang… and you." She glanced up at him, then lowered her head to continue writing. The pen glided across the paper, rustling like autumn leaves in the wind. Ren Ye didn't speak, leaning against the doorframe, watching her profile. Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on her and softening her features. The flowers on the windowsill swayed gently in the breeze, their pink petals gleaming warmly in the autumn sunlight, like a quietly beating heart.

In November, the mining area began to get cold. The wind carried a dry, chilly feel on the face, and the workers at the mine entrance had put on their cotton-padded coats, their breath billowing out in white puffs as they worked. Tian Sui'er was still living in the mining area. Although she had sent out her manuscript, she hadn't been idle. Every day she still went down into the mine, still took notes, and still sat at her desk, reorganizing her old notes and adding details.

The publisher called to say the manuscript had passed the final review and would be printed next spring. Tian Sui'er hung up the phone, stood in the room for a while, then went to the windowsill and touched the pink potted plant. "Renye, it's going to be published."

Renno was adding coal to the stove when he heard her speak and looked up. "Publication is a done deal now, we should be happy."

Tian Sui'er turned around and looked out the window at the mining area. In the distance, the winch at the West No. 2 shaft was still turning, and the workers were finishing their work, climbing up one after another from underground. Their dark figures walked slowly in the twilight. "Renye, I want to write a sentence in the book."

"What did you say?"

"Dedicated to all those who mine coal in the dark." Tian Sui'er's voice was soft but steady. "Without them, there would be no book."

Renye didn't say anything, but walked to her side and stood with her by the window, looking at the miners who were finishing their work in the distance.

In early December, Tian Sui'er returned to the provincial capital to handle the publishing house's contracts and proofreading. She stayed in the provincial capital for half a month, proofreading the manuscript word by word every day. Ren Ye stayed at the mine and called her every few days to ask if the progress was going well. Each time, she would say that it would be almost done, almost done.

On December 20th, Tian Sui'er returned. She pushed open the door to the room at the mine, put down the canvas bag she was carrying, walked to the stove to warm her hands, and then looked up at Ren Ye. "The proofreading is finished. It will be published next March."

Renye took the kettle off the stove and poured her a cup of hot water. "Are you freezing? Has it snowed in the provincial capital?"

"I'm off. It's bigger than this mining area." Tian Sui'er took the cup, warming it in her hands. "The mining area is better, quieter."

January arrived, and the New Year came again. Tian Sui'er spent the New Year in the mining area. Li Yue'e had started preparing for the New Year early, steaming buns, frying meatballs, and making dumplings; the house was filled with delicious aromas. Tian Sui'er helped out, kneading the dough, rolling out the wrappers, and filling the dumplings, doing a great job. Li Yue'e watched her, a smile playing on her lips. "Sui'er, you've learned how to make dumplings?"

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