If you don't give money, you'll get a free gift.

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

I, Sister He, was having lunch with an older woman from the office. Sister He mentioned that her husband was about to be transferred to a civilian job and was currently worried about finding a receiving unit. I learned that for demobilized soldiers, finding a receiving unit is just as difficult as for college graduates finding employment, due to their age and generally lower levels of education. The older woman mentioned that Deputy Director Wang of the office was about to retire. Our information center, as a government agency, offered good benefits and job stability. She asked Sister He why she didn't try to get her husband a job in our unit, hoping he could take over the lucrative position of deputy director. Sister He hesitated, saying that there must be many people vying for that position, making it very difficult. The older woman glanced at me and then spoke a few words to Sister He in the local dialect. I could understand part of the dialect, as my mother is a local, but I don't speak it very well, so I always speak Mandarin, which is why my colleagues assumed I didn't understand. The older woman said, "Director Wu is greedy. You should scrape together 100,000 yuan and give it to him" (this was a lot of money over 10 years ago). Sister He said that her family couldn't afford that much money. The older woman subtly suggested, "Why don't you go talk to Old Wu one night and plead with him? Maybe it'll work." I immediately understood the underlying meaning. I felt that Sister He loved her husband and family so much; she definitely wouldn't go down that path. I secretly glanced at Sister He; she was just standing there, lost in thought. The older woman smiled and said nothing more.
Over the next few days, I risked doing something to Old Wu's desktop computer during work hours. Old Wu usually used a laptop; the desktop was mostly sitting idle in a corner, used primarily by me when writing articles and reports. I opened MSN on the computer, hid it using a program called "Hide It," and then turned off the monitor. This way, if Old Wu didn't look closely, he wouldn't know that I could see his office through MSN on the computer in the server room and through the Quickcam webcam on his office computer. I had actually thought of this method before, but I always felt the chances of being discovered were too high, so I hadn't put it into action. Of course, nowadays there are readily available Trojan programs that can control other people's webcams, which is much more convenient, but that wasn't the case back then. After the technical means were in place, I basically entered a surveillance mode at the office every day after work. Sister He's office was on another floor, and since it wasn't convenient for me to keep an eye on him, I kept an eye on the director's office. Director Wu was still the same as before; if he didn't go home at night, he was definitely messing around in his office. Besides his regular mistress, I once even saw him with a female colleague from the office—I'll write about that later. However, Sister He never went to see Director Wu.
Not long after, I and several technicians went to a subordinate county for a project. The day before the project ended, Director Wu came down from the city to prepare for the project acceptance with local leaders the next day. His personal driver brought him there in his Audi, and unexpectedly, he brought Sister He along. I was a little surprised because she wasn't even a member of our project team. But Sister He worked in finance, so it was reasonable for her to come and wrap things up after the project. That night, all three of them were arranged to stay at the county government's special guesthouse, where we technicians had been staying for over a week. After Lao Wu and his two companions arrived, Lao Wu was assigned to stay next to me, while Sister He stayed on another floor. At the time, I didn't know exactly where they were staying, and Lao Wu probably wasn't sure where we were staying either, otherwise what happened next wouldn't have happened. I
was indeed very tired after so many days. Sister He sat next to the director during meals, and we barely exchanged any words, so I found it quite boring. I dozed off in my room until almost midnight when I heard the sound of a door opening next door, followed by someone entering the room, and then the sound of running water—someone was probably taking a shower. The soundproofing in this hotel room was terrible; the shower noise was almost deafening. After a while, the water stopped, and I heard a man and a woman talking in their local dialect. I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but I recognized the man as Director Wu. The woman's voice was too soft for me to identify. I don't know how much time passed before I was startled awake again. I heard rhythmic thumping sounds coming from behind the wall—the kind of banging sound a bed headboard makes when it hits the wall. I was completely wide awake by then. I thought, "Director Wu dares to bring prostitutes to his room in a government-run hotel? He's got some nerve!" I couldn't stay in bed any longer, so I jumped up and opened the wardrobe door. I'd been staying there for a few days, and being woken up several times at night, so I knew exactly where the mechanism was. The wardrobes in my room and Old Wu's room next door were back-to-back, with no wall in between, just a single wooden plank. As soon as the wardrobe door opened, the noise from next door increased dramatically. I could clearly hear the slapping of two bodies against each other—though that term hadn't been invented yet. Amidst the continuous slapping sounds, Old Wu's panting mingled with the woman's deliberately suppressed moans, and there was also that sticky, wet sound. The atmosphere felt incredibly lewd, and my crotch was already rock hard. After a while, the woman's moans paused, and she said something that sounded like "Don't ejaculate inside" (of course, it could also be my imagination). I suddenly thought the voice sounded a lot like Sister He's, but I immediately felt a chill run down my spine. Of course, I kept telling myself that the woman next door was probably a prostitute, and Sister He wouldn't do such a thing. I pressed my ear against the closet wall, trying to hear more clearly, but the banging sounds next door had stopped, and the voices were deliberately lowered, almost inaudible. I curled up in the closet, thinking that waiting like this wasn't going to work, when I heard the door next door open. I immediately ran out of the closet and peered through the peephole into the hallway from behind my bedroom door. I saw a short-haired woman in a gray suit skirt walking quickly past my door with her head down. In that instant, my heart skipped a beat, because it was clearly Sister He.
What followed was, of course, a sleepless night. Although I wasn't anything to Sister He—neither her husband nor her boyfriend, and I even had a girlfriend at the time—the pain I felt was something I'd never experienced before in my early twenties. From then on, aside from work-related matters, I had virtually no personal contact with Sister He. The main reason was that Sister He knew I had a girlfriend, so she didn't want to bother us. Another reason was that Sister He's husband had transferred to a civilian job and become the deputy director of our office; both of them worked there, and it felt inappropriate for Sister He and I to even have lunch together. I didn't know how to face her then, so I completely distanced myself. Sometimes I'd bump into her in the hallway, exchange a brief greeting, and I could sense she was much happier than before. Several months passed like this until one night, Lao Wu was arrested by the police at home for embezzling public funds. The unit's finance director, who was also Sister He's direct supervisor, was arrested along with him. Then, because I was Lao Wu's confidant, I was ostracized and bullied by the new director. I had already been enrolled in a systems analyst training program in the US, but at the last minute someone else took my place. Then I missed out on many projects. Feeling uncomfortable being alone, I resigned from my job, stayed home unemployed for a few months, then went to work for a foreign company, and a few years later immigrated abroad.
Since leaving the company, I haven't seen Sister He again. I wonder if she still remembers me. I hope she's doing well
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