The people. Still, it was not the rallies in Tiananmen Square that made me truly understand these words, but an episode one night in Beijing in late May. Martial law had been declared by that time; students and residents were guarding major intersections to keep out armed troops.

Practically every lunchtime I would ride my rickety old bike to Tiananmen, lingering there through the evening and into the early hours. In Beijing in late May, it’s hot at midday but cold at night. By late that evening, I was chilled to the bone. As I cycled back from the square, an icy wind blew in my face. Then as I approached the Hujialou overpass a wave of heat suddenly swept over me, and it only got hotter as I rode further. I heard a song drifting my way, and a bit later I saw lights gleaming in the distance.

Thousands of people were standing guard on the bridge and the approach roads beneath. They were singing lustily under the night sky: “With our flesh and blood we will build a new great wall! The Chinese people have reached the critical hour, compelled to give their final call! Arise, arise, arise! United we stand .... “

That night I realised that when the people stand as one, their voices carry farther than light and their heat is carried farther still. That, I discovered, is what “the people” means.

Yu Hua is the author of “Brothers.”

This essay was translated by Allan Barr from the Chinese

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