Black Gold 1983

Some people in the audience laughed, while others remained silent. After the symposium ended, several people came up to her, some asking for autographs, some for contact information, and some saying they wanted to go with her to visit the mining area.

Tian Sui'er spent three days in the provincial capital and returned with news. The province was going to hold a special sharing session for her book at the county cultural center in June. She was squatting by the well, looking at the sign in the distance, when she told Ren Ye this news.

"June? In the county town?" Renye squatted down next to her. "Go."

In early June, Tian Sui'er went back to the provincial capital to finalize the sharing session. After she returned, she told everyone at the mine the time of the session. "Everyone come. I want to introduce each of you to the audience."

Ma Tiejun scratched his head. "Can't I just not go on stage? I'm not good at speaking."

"No need to speak. Just sit. Let everyone see that you are the ones who wrote this book."

June 15th, the county cultural center. The small auditorium was packed with people: miners, county officials, bookstore readers, and newspaper reporters. Tian Sui'er stood on the stage, wearing a white shirt and her hair tied in a ponytail. She looked down at the audience and saw Ma Tiejun sitting in the first row, arms crossed, too nervous to move. She saw Ma Maocai in the second row, head down, looking at his hands. She saw Ma Dehou sitting by the window, twirling his pipe. She saw Ma Dewang sitting at the back, pipe in mouth, squinting at the stage. She saw Ren Ye standing in the very back corner of the auditorium, leaning against the wall, an unlit cigarette between his lips, watching her.

Tian Sui'er looked away, glanced down at the manuscript in front of her, and then looked up. "I'm not going to talk about any grand principles today. I'll just talk about how I wrote this book."

She recounted her days underground. She talked about Ma Dehou's bowl of pork rib soup, Ma Tiejun waiting at the wellhead every day for the workers to come up, Ma Maocai teaching her how to use a pickaxe underground, and the workers whose names she knew and didn't know. At the end, she paused and looked at the audience.

"The book is called 'Eight Hundred Meters Down the Mine'," she paused, "and every single person in this book lives right before my eyes. They are not stories; they are real people. Today, they are right here."

She gestured. Ma Tiejun straightened his back. Ma Maocai also raised his head. Ma Dehou put down his pipe. The workers were all sitting, some were reserved, some were laughing, but everyone's back was straight, like a row of trees planted in the wind.

The applause lasted a long time. Tian Sui'er stood on the stage, not crying, but smiling. Ren Ye stood in the corner, lit the cigarette he had been holding for so long, and took a puff. The smoke dispersed under the lights of the auditorium, like a small cloud, drifting towards the ceiling, towards the miners below who were looking up, and towards the golden lettering on the wooden sign standing next to the mine shaft.

After the meeting, the workers came out of the auditorium and stood on the steps. Tian Sui'er also came out and stood among them. Ma Tiejun grinned, Ma Maocai's lips curled up, and Ma Dehou, with a pipe in his mouth, squinted at the distance. Ma Dewang stood at the back, watching the backs of these people, watching Tian Sui'er standing in the middle of the crowd. Ren Ye walked over and stood next to Tian Sui'er, the two standing side by side.

A thick, orange-red sunset hung on the horizon, like freshly burned coal ash, still warm, making the western sky feel cozy. A breeze blew from the distant mining area, carrying the smell of coal ash and the earthy scent of spring, a mixture that was hard to describe, but undeniably comforting.

Summer had arrived in the mining area in June. The poplar leaves beside the mine shaft were glossy from the sun, rustling in the wind. The day after returning from the county town, Tian Sui'er went down the mine again. She said she still had something to write and wanted to go down and take a look. Ren Ye didn't stop her. He tied her headlamp to her head and stood at the mine shaft, watching her grip the rope, push off the wall with her feet, and slide down section by section until she disappeared into the darkness.

He squatted at the wellhead, waiting for her to come up. The sun moved from east to west, then back to its zenith, and the winch turned round and round. Ma Tiejun came over and handed him a cigarette; he took it, lit it, took a puff, and continued squatting. As evening approached, Tian Sui'er came up. She climbed out of the well, took off her safety helmet, and clutched it in her hand. Her face was covered in coal dust, and sweat left streaks of white marks. She walked to Ren Ye, squatted down, took out a notebook from her pocket, opened it to a page, and handed it to him.

A sentence was written in the notebook: "They came up from the darkness, covered in soot and bathed in light." Renye looked at it once, then again, and handed the notebook back to her. "Well written."

Tian Sui'er closed the notebook and put it back in her pocket. The two of them squatted beside the well, neither of them speaking. The wind blew in, carrying the distinctive smell of coal dust from the well and the scent of wheat ripening in the distant fields. Tiger Vanguard appeared out of nowhere and squatted at Tian Sui'er's feet, its tail sweeping back and forth on the ground. Ma Xiaojun called out from behind, but it didn't move; it just stayed there, like a loyal guard.

In July, the mining area entered the rainy season. It rained every few days, sometimes a light drizzle, sometimes a downpour. The coal piles at the mine entrance were covered with tarpaulins, and the winches were also covered with tarpaulins. The workers seized every spare moment during the rain breaks to unload coal. On the windowsill of Tian Sui'er's room, the pink potted plant, washed bright by the rain, shimmered with water droplets on its petals in the post-rain sunshine. She sat by the window, a pen in her hand, not writing anything, just gazing at the exceptionally clear sky after the rain.

August, the hottest time in the mining area. Tian Sui'er received her second book from the publisher, a hardcover edition with a dark blue cover and gold lettering. She carried the book around the room several times, finally placing it on the windowsill next to the potted pink flower. She stepped back to look at it for a while, then stepped forward again, moved the book slightly to the left, stepped back to look at it again, and nodded, as if she had accomplished something very important.

Renye stood in the doorway, watching her fiddling with the book. He didn't speak, but a slight smile played on his lips. He turned and went to the kitchen. The kettle on the stove was bubbling away. He picked it up, poured a glass of water into an enamel mug, and placed it on the windowsill next to the book. "Don't just sit there arranging the book, drink some water." Tian Sui'er picked up the mug, took a sip, and then looked up at him. Her lips were moistened by the steam, and her eyes held a glimmer of light. "Renye, I want to write something in this book."

Renye leaned against the windowsill opposite her, his arms crossed over his chest. "What are you writing?"

Tian Sui'er picked up the book, opened it to the title page, took out a pen, bent down, wrote a line in the blank space, then closed the book and handed it to him. Ren Ye took it, opened the title page, and saw the line she had written—"Thank you for leading me into the darkness and letting me see the light." He looked at it for a long time, then looked up; Tian Sui'er was standing in front of him. The flowers on the windowsill swayed gently in the wind, their pink petals glowing warmly in the setting sun, like a quiet witness. He closed the book and placed it in her hand. "I accept what you wrote."

In September, the mining area began to cool. The poplar leaves started to turn yellow and fell one by one, landing on the dirt road beside the mine entrance, on the tarpaulin covering the coal piles, and on the wooden sign that read "800 meters underground." Every evening, Tian Sui'er would walk around the mine entrance, picking up the leaves that had fallen on the sign, and sometimes she would wipe the dust off with a damp cloth. After wiping it, she would take two steps back to check, making sure it was clean before leaving.

One day, Jin saw her wiping the sign, so he went over and squatted down next to her. "You wipe it every day, aren't you tired?"

Tian Sui'er didn't stop. She rinsed the cloth in the bucket, wrung it out, and continued wiping. "Not tired," she said, wiping the last word clean. She stood up, took two steps back, and looked at the sign. A breeze blew, ruffling her hair, which she tucked behind her ear. "Renye, how long do you think this sign will stand?"

"It can stand for a long time." Renye took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "As long as the wellhead is still there, this sign will remain."

Tian Sui'er didn't speak. She glanced at the sign again, turned around, and walked back into the house side by side with Ren Ye. The two walked in the twilight, their shadows stretched long by the setting sun, falling on the dusty dirt road, each step leaving a footprint.

In early October, Tian Sui'er received a letter. It was from a reader, signed from a coal mine in a southern city. The letter was simple, saying he had worked underground for fifteen years and no one had ever written about them. Upon seeing the book, he cried. The letter ended with the line—"Thank you for letting us, those of us underground, be seen."

Tian Sui'er read the letter several times, then folded it, put it in her desk drawer, and then took it out again, tucking it into a book. She sat by the window, looking out. In the distance, the winch at the West Second Mine was still turning, the steel cable creaking and groaning, and the workers were finishing their work, climbing up one by one from the mine, walking in the twilight. She watched for a long time, then turned her gaze back to the book on the windowsill. The deep blue cover and golden lettering shimmered in the setting sun, like a quietly beating heart. The pink flower in the pot was still blooming, blooming all year round, quietly keeping company beside the book.

In late October, the mining area experienced its first frost. When she woke up in the morning, the poplar leaves beside the mine shaft were covered with a thin layer of white frost, like a sprinkle of salt. Tian Sui'er opened the window, looking at the frost, her breath condensing into a white mist in the air. She moved the flowers and books on the windowsill inside, afraid the frost would damage them. The potted pink flower, blooming beside the radiator, had petals a little paler than in summer, but it was still in bloom.

Renye returned from the well, stomped the mud off his shoes at the doorway, and went inside. He placed the basket he was carrying on the table; inside were several freshly picked radishes, still covered in mud. "Ma Dewang's family picked these from their field; they said they were for us to try." Tian Sui'er walked over and looked at the radishes; they were plump and white, topped with a cluster of emerald green leaves. She picked one up, weighed it in her hand, then placed it on the cutting board, took a cleaver, cut it into chunks, threw it into a pot, added water, and a few pieces of pork ribs.

The pot on the stove bubbled and bubbled, the fresh aroma of radishes mingling with the meaty fragrance of pork ribs, filling the entire room. The two sat at the table, each with a steaming bowl of soup. Tian Sui'er took a sip, gasped from the heat, blew on it, and took another sip. "So sweet."

Renye also took a sip. "It's freshly picked from the ground, how could it not be sweet?"

Most of the poplar leaves outside the window had fallen, leaving bare branches swaying in the wind. The flowers on the windowsill, protected by the warmth of the indoor heating, had pink petals that looked exceptionally delicate under the lamplight. The hardcover book still stood beside it, its deep blue cover like a small patch of quiet night sky.

In November, Tian Sui'er received a notification from the Provincial Writers Association, saying that her book would be submitted for next year's provincial literary awards. She showed the notification to Ren Ye, who read it once, then again, and folded it up before returning it to her. "This is a good thing," he said, "it means your book is being seen by more people."

Tian Sui'er put the notice away, walked to the window, and looked outside. The winch at the West Second Wellhead was still turning in the distance, the steel cable creaking and groaning. She watched for a long time, then turned away. "Renye, I want to write another book before next year's award selection."

Renye looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Write about the changes in the mines." Tian Sui'er's voice wasn't loud, but it was very earnest. "Write about the early days of illegal mining, the later large state-owned mines, and now the small coal mines. Write about the people who have lived, worked, and walked on this land. Write about that process."

Renye didn't say anything, just put the cigarette in his mouth.

"What do you think?" Tian Sui'er asked again.

Renye thought for a moment. "Write. What you want to write must have its meaning."

In early December, Tian Sui'er began to write. Every day, she went to the mine's archives to look through old documents, searching for old mining area maps, production reports, and worker rosters, sometimes sitting there for an entire day. When Ren Ye brought her food, he saw her hunched over the table, a pile of yellowed papers spread out in front of her, a pen in her hand, writing and drawing. Sunlight streamed in from the high window, falling on her and illuminating the area around her like a small lighthouse.

"What did you find?" Renye placed the lunchbox on the corner of the table.

Tian Sui'er looked up, holding an old photograph in her hand, and handed it to Ren Ye. The photograph was yellowed and the edges were curled. It showed a group of miners wearing hard hats standing in front of the mine shaft, all of them dark-skinned except for their eyes. On the back of the photograph, a line of words was written in pencil: "Group photo of all miners in the West No. 2 mining area, 1958."

"This is the earliest photo from our mine," Tian Sui'er said, her voice trembling slightly. "It's from 1958, before my dad was even born."

Renye stared at the photo for a long time, unable to recognize any of the faces. They were all so young, so full of life. He flipped the photo over to look at the words on the back, then carefully placed it back on the table. "Keep it; it'll be useful."