Just south of the philosophy institute’s administrative building there was a turn in the road, and when Yahui went around the turn she found Pastor Wang standing there. He smiled and walked beside her, like Jesus accompanying one of his disciples.
“Did you really borrow a hundred thousand yuan from Director Gong?” the pastor asked Yahui. “Why didn’t you ask me for help? Why didn’t you ask us Protestants?”
“I wasn’t borrowing from Director Gong,” Yahui replied. “I was borrowing from the organization.”
“You are truly naive. The director and the organization are one and the same. The director is the organization, and the organization is the director. Don’t you realize that?” As Wang Changping said this, he slowed down and looked at Yahui. “You need to find an excuse to return the money to Director Gong and to the organization. I’ll give you a hundred thousand yuan, and you can treat it as though it came from Jesus and from God. Then it’ll be up to you whether or not you pay it back.”
Yahui came to a stop and gazed at Wang Changping. There was warm afternoon sunlight everywhere, and the air was filled with energy. It was mid-March, and everyone felt impulsive and powerful. As Pastor Wang spoke, he stared intently at Yahui, trying to use his gaze to force her own gaze back into her eyes. As a result, his gaze become rough and warm, like a father using his hand to caress his daughter’s head.
“When Buddhist monks and nuns borrow money from the temple, it is like when farmers go to their own land and harvest it early. Meanwhile, when Protestant and Catholic believers borrow money from the church, they do so because they have faith in the Lord. For believers, it is the Lord’s favor that, if you want to borrow a hundred yuan, He will give you a thousand; and if you want to borrow a thousand, He will give you ten thousand. But what is it called when you, a nun, borrow money from Director Gong and the organization? Is this called a disciple lacking faith in religion and in the deity? It’s called faith being unable to favor its own believers, and the deities being unable to favor their own children.”
“It’s not that,” Yahui protested, looking away.
“Then what is it? Are you going to find anyone who understands this better than me?”
Without responding, Yahui turned and saw that the pagoda tree by the side of the road had spring buds that were producing a golden glow in the sunlight, and sap was surging through the tree’s leaves. There were a couple of sparrows on one of the branches, which made the leaves sway as if to some classic tune.
“There is an athletics class this weekend, but as soon as the bank opens tomorrow, I’ll go withdraw some money and repay Director Gong for you.” As Wang Changping said this, he began to move forward, and when the two sparrows in the tree saw him leave, they also flew away, leaving behind a trembling branch. But after the sparrows flew away, Wang Changping stopped, then he turned and asked Yahui, “Is one hundred thousand enough? If not, I can give you two hundred.”
Yahui gazed gratefully at Pastor Wang like a disciple gazing at a deity.
“One or two hundred thousand—just tell me how much you need. But remember what I told you: we disciples are our own collection box, unlike infidels who don’t believe in God.”
Wang Changping again started walking, and proceeded to the corner of the large field in front of him. The midspring sun bathed the field in red light, as though it were a lake of blood. Among the students practicing athletics in the field, there was a young monk and a young imam playing basketball—like a pair of rabbits that have been hibernating all winter and then dash out of their burrow at the first sight of sunlight. Wang Changping headed toward the field, but after taking several steps he quickly returned. He went back up to Yahui and exhorted her, saying, “You should return to the religion building. But I need to keep active, because if I don’t, I’m afraid that later I might not have the chance.” Then he smiled and added mysteriously, “I know how much you borrowed to buy an apartment in Beijing. Take a look in a few days, and perhaps you’ll find that a deity has already repaid your entire loan.”
Wang Changping didn’t wait for Yahui to respond, and instead he ran over to the field like a middle-aged winter deer bounding toward spring. However, Yahui stood awkwardly on the edge of the field. It occurred to her that today was the day for Director Gong’s athletics class, so she returned to the center to prepare the equipment.