Copyright

This diary contains discussions of various treatments of COVID-19 that took place early on during the outbreak in Wuhan. They are not to be taken as medical advice. For treatment advice concerning COVID-19, please consult your medical provider.

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First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

FIRST EDITION

© Fang Fang 2020

English translation and Translator’s Afterword © 2020 by Michael Berry.

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Cover photograph © REUTERS/Thomas Peter

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Ebook Edition © May 2020 ISBN: 9780008420352

Version 2020-05-07

Introduction: The Virus Is the Common Enemy of Humankind
I

When I first logged on to my Sina Weibo account to write my initial diary entry, I certainly never imagined that there would be 59 more entries to follow; nor could I ever have imagined that tens of millions of readers would be staying up late each night just waiting to read my next installment. So many people have told me that they could only finally get to sleep after reading my entry for the day. I also never imagined that this collection of diary entries would be collected in book form and published overseas so quickly.

Just as I completed my final installment of the diary, the government coincidentally announced that on April 8, 2020, the city of Wuhan would reopen.

Wuhan was under lockdown for a total of 76 days. April 8 also happened to be the date that websites in the United States uploaded presale information for the English edition of Wuhan Diary.

The whole thing seemed something like a dream; it was as if the hand of God had been silently arranging everything from behind the scenes.

II

Starting on January 20 when the Chinese infectious disease specialist Dr. Zhong Nanshan revealed that the novel coronavirus was being spread by human-to-human transmission and news broke that 14 medical workers had already been infected, my first reaction was shock, but that later turned into anger. This new information was completely at odds with what we had seen and heard earlier. Official media sources had been consistently telling us that this virus was “Not Contagious Between People; It’s Controllable and Preventable.” Meanwhile, even more rumors were circulating that this was in fact another SARS coronavirus.

Once I learned that the approximate incubation period for this virus was around 14 days, I started to calmly make a list of whom I had been in contact with over those previous two weeks to see if there was any risk that I might have been infected. The scary thing I discovered was that during this period I had been to the hospital three different times to visit sick colleagues. I wore face masks during two of those visits, but one time I didn’t. On January 7th I attended a friend’s party and later went out to dinner with my family. On January 16th I had a serviceman come to my apartment to install a new heater. On the 19th my niece visited Wuhan from Singapore, so my big brother and his wife took us all out to dinner, including my second brother and his wife. It was a good thing that there were already all those SARS rumors floating around by then, so I made sure to wear a face mask every time I went out.

Given my occupation and what my normal schedule looks like, it is actually quite out of the ordinary for me to have gone out so many times during such a short period. I suppose I was going out more because this was the time just before the Lunar New Year when people hold a lot of parties and host get-togethers to celebrate. Once I put everything together, it was really hard for me to say definitively whether or not I might have been infected during that period. The only thing I could do was work backward to try to rule out an infection by counting down, day by day, until I had passed that two-week period. During that time, I was feeling quite depressed.

My daughter returned from Japan on January 22, the night before the quarantine was announced. I went to pick her up at the airport that night at 10:00 p.m. By that time, there were hardly any cars or pedestrians on the streets. When I got to the airport, almost everyone standing outside waiting to be picked up was wearing a face mask; there was a heavy feeling in the air and everyone seemed extremely stressed out. There were no signs of the hubbub, chatter, and laughter that you normally see there. Those few days were when panic and fright were at their very height in Wuhan. Just before going out I left an online message for a friend of mine, telling her I was reminded of a line from that old poem, “the wind whistles by as a chill descends on Yishui.” Since her plane was delayed, my daughter didn’t come out of the terminal until after 11:00 p.m.

My ex-husband had dinner with my daughter the previous week. Then, just a few days before I picked her up, he called to tell me that something was wrong with his lungs. My guard immediately went up; if he was infected with the novel coronavirus, then there was a possibility that my daughter might also be infected. I told my daughter and we decided that she had better self-quarantine at her apartment for at least one week before going out. That meant that we wouldn’t spend the Lunar New Year together. I told her I would bring her some things to eat (since she had been on vacation abroad, she didn’t have any fresh groceries in her apartment). We both wore face masks in the car and although she is usually always excited to tell me all about her trips, she barely said a word about Japan during our drive. We were both silent the whole way there. The anxiety and stress that were permeating the entire city were also there in the car with us.

I dropped my daughter off at her place and then had to stop for gas on the way back to my apartment. I didn’t get home until 1:00 a.m. As soon as I returned home I turned on the computer and immediately saw the news: The quarantine would be imminently going into effect. Although a few people had suggested shutting down the city, I remember thinking “how are you supposed to lock down a city as big as Wuhan?” So when the order came down, I really didn’t expect it. The quarantine order also made me realize that this infectious disease that had been spreading must have already gotten to an extremely serious point.

The next day, I went out to buy some face masks and groceries. The streets were very quiet. I don’t think I’d ever seen the streets of Wuhan so wide open and deserted. Seeing those desolate streets made me very sad; my heart felt as empty as those abandoned avenues. That was a feeling I had never before experienced in my life—that feeling of uncertainty about the fate of my city, that uncertainty about whether my family members and I had been infected, and all the uncertainties about the future. All that left me with a strange feeling of confusion and anxiety.

I went out again for the next two days in search of face masks, but the only people I encountered out on those empty streets were a few solitary street sweepers. Since there were so few pedestrians out, the streets were not even very dirty, but they kept frantically sweeping. For some reason, that scene gave me a strange sense of consolation and really set my heart at ease.

On my way home, I kept wondering, since I had first heard about this virus back on December 31, how come everyone had such a lax attitude about it for the following 20 days? We should have already learned our lesson from the SARS outbreak back in 2003. This “why” is also a question that a lot of people had been asking themselves. Why?

To be perfectly frank, part of the reason is that we had been too careless, and there are also objective life situations that contributed to that. But more important is the fact that we have placed too much faith in our government. We had faith that there was no way that the governmental leaders in Hubei Province would adopt such a lax and irresponsible attitude when it came to such a critical event where lives were in the balance. We also had faith that they would never hold fast to their “political correctness” and old ways of doing business in the face of a new threat that could affect the lives of millions of people. And we had faith that they would have better common sense and exercise better decision-making skills when a real threat was afoot. It was owing to that faith that I even sent a message to one of my WeChat groups saying: “The government would never dare to try to conceal something so huge.” But in reality, as we now see how things have evolved, we know that a portion of the blame for this catastrophe lies with human error.

Deeply ingrained habitual behaviors, like reporting the good news while hiding the bad, preventing people from speaking the truth, forbidding the public from understanding the true nature of events, and expressing a disdain for individual lives, have led to massive reprisals against our society, untold injuries against our people, and even terrible reprisals against those officials themselves (a group of high-ranking Hubei officials have already been dismissed from office, while others who should bear additional responsibility still remain in office). All this, in turn, led to the city of Wuhan’s falling under a 76-day quarantine, with its reverberations affecting untold numbers of people and places. It is absolutely essential that we continue to fight until those responsible are held accountable.

III

Beginning on January 20, Wuhan would be gripped by a cloud of fear and anxiety for the next three days as we quickly approached the quarantine order. Locking down an entire city with a population of millions in order to stop the spread of an epidemic was a historically unprecedented action. It was certainly also a very difficult decision to make on such short notice, because a quarantine order would certainly affect the lives of every citizen in Wuhan.

However, to impede the spread of this virus, the city government of Wuhan gritted its teeth and made the hard choice that needed to be made. This was also a decision that was unique in Wuhan’s thousands of years of history. But, looking at it from the perspective of how we changed the course of the virus’s spread, this was clearly the correct decision, even if it came a few days late.

During the five-day period lasting from three days before the quarantine order went into effect through the first two days after the restrictions were imposed, most people in Wuhan were in a state of utter panic. Those were five terrifying days that seemed to last forever; meanwhile, the virus was quickly spreading throughout the city, and even the government appeared as if it was at a loss as to what to do.

On January 25, Day One of the Lunar New Year, people finally started to settle down a bit. The media reported that China’s top-level leaders were closely following the outbreak in Wuhan and that the first team of medical experts from Shanghai had arrived in Wuhan. Those reports gave the people of Wuhan some solace and helped calm their spirits. That’s because everybody knows that once something in China is taken up at the national level, everyone will step up and do what needs to be done. From that day forward, the frantic and confused people of Wuhan could dispel all their fears. And that was the day that I began my diary.

But that was also when the period of true suffering arrived here in Wuhan—the number of people infected with the coronavirus exploded during the Lunar New Year. Because the local hospitals couldn’t cope with the surge of new patients, the entire system was brought to the brink of collapse. As it happens, that was precisely the period of the Chinese New Year when families normally come together for the holiday; it is a time of year that is usually filled with joy. But instead the world froze over; countless people became infected with the coronavirus, and they ended up traipsing all over the city in the wind and rain searching in vain for treatment. After the quarantine was imposed, all public transit in the city shut down, and since most residents in Wuhan don’t have their own automobiles, they had to walk from one hospital to another in search of a place that might admit them. It is hard to describe how difficult that must have been for those poor patients. That is also about the time that short videos of patients appealing for help began to appear online; there were also videos of people lining up all night long outside hospitals, hoping to get admitted, and clips of doctors on the brink of exhaustion. We all felt completely helpless in the face of these patients crying out, desperate for help. Those were also the most difficult days for me to get through. All I could do was write, and so I just kept writing and writing; it became my only form of psychological release.

Once we got through that most difficult period, several top officials in Hubei and Wuhan were removed from office, 19 provinces from all over China sent medical relief teams to provide aid to Hubei, and we constructed a series of temporary hospitals to handle the influx of patients. Eventually, the new quarantine procedures that were put in place helped to completely turn the tide away from the tragic and chaotic state that things had been in. All patients were divided up into four groups: patients with severe symptoms, confirmed coronavirus patients, suspected coronavirus patients, and those who had close contact with confirmed patients. Those with severe symptoms were admitted to the main hospitals designated to treat coronavirus patients; those confirmed patients with mild symptoms were sent to the temporary hospitals; all suspected cases were admitted to local hotels where they would be kept under quarantine; and close contacts were also quarantined in hotels or other facilities, such as school dormitory rooms. All these methods were immediately put into place and quickly began to yield results. Once they got into the hospital system, a good majority of the mild cases were able to see a quick recovery. Day after day, we were able to personally witness the situation improving here in Wuhan. You can see that gradually taking place in my diary.

During the early stage of the quarantine, the challenge of taking care of the daily needs of nine million people was taken care of by neighborhood groups that self-organized and used online services to make group purchases in order to provide daily necessities. Later the government mobilized all its civil servants to each and every community to help serve the needs of local residents. Wuhan’s nine million residents worked together to cooperate with all the government’s requests; their restraint and patience helped to ensure that Wuhan would be able to contain this virus; they are deserving of whatever recognition we can muster to acknowledge their collective sacrifice. Spending a full 76 days in quarantine was not an easy thing for people to do. But the amount of energy the government later put into the quarantine and various other measures was indeed extremely effective.

By the time I got to my 60th diary entry, the situation in Wuhan had already completely turned around. And then on April 8, the 76th day of the lockdown, Wuhan officially reopened. That was an unforgettable day. The moment the quarantine order was lifted, there was barely a dry eye in the entire city.

IV

What I never imagined was that just as the coronavirus outbreak in Wuhan was starting to ease up, the virus began to spread throughout Europe and the United States. These tiny virus droplets that are invisible to the naked eye quickly brought the world to its knees. The entire world, both East and West, were all tortured in horrific ways by this coronavirus.

Meanwhile, politicians from both sides pointed fingers at each other, while never facing up to the fact that everyone had taken missteps along the way. China’s lax attitude early on and the West’s arrogance shown in its distrust of China’s experience fighting the coronavirus have both contributed to countless lives being lost, countless families being ripped apart, and all humanity having been dealt a heavy blow.

A Western reporter asked me: “What kind of lesson should China learn from this outbreak?” My response was: “The spread of the coronavirus is not limited to China; it is something affecting everyone all over the world. The novel coronavirus has not just taught China a lesson, it has taught the entire world a lesson; it has educated all of humanity. This lesson is: Humankind cannot be allowed to continue on lost in its own arrogance, we can no longer think of ourselves as the center of the world, we can no longer believe that we are invincible, and we can no longer underestimate the destructive power of even the smallest things—like a virus.”

The virus is the common enemy of humankind; that is a lesson for all humanity. The only way we can conquer this virus and free ourselves from its grip is for all members of humankind to work together.

V

I would like to extend special thanks to my four doctor friends; throughout the course of my diary, they provided information and medical knowledge about the coronavirus.

Thanks to my three brothers for their assistance and love, along with all my family for always lending me their full support. When people started attacking me online, one of my cousins said: “Don’t worry, your family always will have your back.” Another one of my cousins kept constantly sending me information. My extended family’s support warmed my heart along the course of this journey.

I also thank my old college and high school classmates. They too provided so much strong support to prop me up throughout this process. They sent me all kinds of information about what was going on in our society during the outbreak, and during those moments when I wavered, they were the ones who cheered me on. And then there are my colleagues and neighbors; I thank them all for providing help with my everyday life affairs throughout the process of writing this diary.

Finally, I would like to thank my translator, Michael Berry. If it hadn’t been for his suggestion, I never would have thought of trying to publish this book overseas; and it certainly never would have been brought out at such a rapid speed.

This is a book dedicated to the people of Wuhan. It is also a book for those people who came to Wuhan’s aid during my city’s darkest hour. All my proceeds from this book will be used to aid those people who put their lives on the line for this city.

Fang Fang

April 13, 2020

January

January 25, 2020

Technology can sometimes be every bit as evil as a contagious virus.

I’m not sure if I’ll be able to send anything out through my Weibo account. It wasn’t too long ago that I had my account shut down after I criticized a group of young nationalists who were harassing people on the streets with foul language. (I still stand by my position: There is nothing wrong with being a patriot, but that shouldn’t be an excuse to act like a hooligan—it comes down to basic civility!) I tried to complain to Sina, the company that runs Weibo, yet there is really no way to get through to them. After that, I was so disappointed in Sina that I decided to completely give up on using Weibo.

But at that time I never imagined that something so serious would befall the city of Wuhan. What happened led Wuhan to become the focal point of the entire nation, it led to the city being locked down, the people of Wuhan being subjected to prejudice, and me being quarantined here in this city. Today the government issued another order: Starting at midnight tonight all motor vehicles are prohibited from operating in the downtown district of Wuhan. That is precisely where I happen to live. A lot of people have been sending me text messages to ask how I’m doing; everyone is quite concerned, and they are sending in their warm wishes. For those of us quarantined here in the city, those heartwarming messages mean a lot. I just received a message from Cheng Yongxin, an editor for the literary journal Harvest, suggesting that I start writing a series that we could call “Wuhan Diary,” or “Notes from a Quarantined City.” My first instinct is that, if my Weibo account is still active and I’m able to post, perhaps I really should start writing about what is happening. It would be a way for people to understand what is really going on here on the ground in Wuhan.

But I’m not sure if this will even be able to be posted. If any of my friends are able to view it online, please leave a comment so I know it went through. Weibo has a special feature that makes the user believe their post was successfully uploaded when it actually remains invisible to other users. Once I learned about this programming trick, I realized that technology can sometimes be every bit as evil as a contagious virus.

Let’s see if this post is able to be uploaded.

January 26, 2020

What you are seeing from government officials in Hubei is actually what you can expect from most cadres throughout China.

Thank you, everyone, for your attention and support. The people of Wuhan are still in a critical phase of this outbreak, even though a lot of folks have already emerged from that initial state of fear, helplessness, and anxiety. We may be much more settled and at peace than we were a few days ago, but we still need everyone’s comfort and encouragement. For a while now, everyone in Wuhan seemed to be in a state of paralysis, frightened and not knowing what to do, but as of today it seems that people are starting to emerge from that. I originally wanted to run through the cycle of emotions that I have gone through since December 31, ranging from a state of heightened alert to the more relaxed psychological space I am in now, but as soon as I began to write it down I realized it would be too long. So, instead, I will focus on what I’m going through emotionally right now, based on what is happening, and then gradually get to this “Wuhan Diary.”

Yesterday was Day Two of the Lunar New Year and it is still cold, windy, and rainy outside. There is some good news but also a lot of bad news. The good news is that the state is lending more and more support to the effort to fight this virus; there are more medical personnel rushing to Wuhan to join the efforts here, etc., etc. All this gives the people of Wuhan some peace of mind. But I’m sure you all already know about this.

As for myself, one bit of good news is that up until now, not a single one of my relatives has been infected. My second brother lives very close to the epicenter of the outbreak—his apartment is right next to the Huanan Seafood Market and Wuhan Central Hospital. My brother is not in the best of health; even before the outbreak, he was often in and out of the hospital, so I am quite thankful that he and my sister-in-law are both okay. My brother already prepared enough fresh food and vegetables to last them for a week, and he doesn’t plan on leaving the apartment. My other brother and his family, along with my daughter and me, are all across the river in Wuchang. Over here the risk seems a bit lower and we are all doing all right. Although we are stuck at home all day, we don’t feel particularly bored. I suppose we are all homebodies, anyway! The only ones in our family who seem to be a bit worried are my niece and her son, who returned from out of town to visit my brother. They were originally supposed to leave Wuhan on high-speed rail on the 23rd to meet up with the rest of their family in Guangzhou. (Even if they had been able to get there, I’m not sure that things would have been much better for them in Guangzhou.) But on the day they were supposed to leave, the city was locked down and they didn’t make it out. It is unclear how long this quarantine will last; right now we are still in the middle of the Chinese New Year holiday, but it could get complicated when things start to affect work and school. Since my niece and her son are both Singapore passport holders, yesterday they received a notice from the Singapore government that arrangements were being made for a plane to take them back there. (I suspect that there must be a considerable number of ethnic Chinese Singaporeans living in Wuhan.) Once they return to Singapore, they will need to be quarantined for 14 days. The fact that they are implementing a quarantine is a good sign and allows us all to breathe a bit easier. I also received some pretty good news about my ex-husband; he had been hospitalized in Shanghai and had a chest X-ray that showed some spots on his lungs, but yesterday they ruled out anything serious and it seems to be nothing more than a common cold. He has not been infected by the novel coronavirus and will be discharged from the hospital today. That also means that our daughter, whom he had just gone out to dinner with, doesn’t need to be strictly segregated to her own room anymore. (A few days ago I even drove out in the pouring rain to bring her some food!) I really hope that tomorrow will bring more good news like this! Although the city is shut down and we are stuck inside our homes, those bits of good news go a long way toward brightening our mood.

Yet the bad news continues. Yesterday my daughter told me that the father of one of her friends seemingly contracted the virus (he was also suffering from liver cancer); they took him to the hospital but there was no one available to treat him and he died three hours later. This must have happened sometime within the past two days, and my daughter’s friend was still really emotional when they spoke on the phone. Last night my colleague Xiao Li called to tell me that two people from the Provincial Literary and Arts Federation housing complex where I live have been infected. They are from the same family and are both in their 30s. Xiao Li told me to be careful. The infected couple’s apartment is probably only around 300 meters away from where I live. However, my building has a separate entrance and a separate courtyard from them, so I’m not overly concerned. But I’m sure those neighbors in the same building are getting a bit nervous. Today my colleague called again and told me that they both have mild cases of the coronavirus, so they are just self-quarantining and treating themselves at home. In general, young people have better constitutions and tend to only suffer from mild infections, so that couple should be able to rebound quickly. I pray for their speedy recovery.

Yesterday’s press conference in Hubei about the coronavirus has become a trending topic on the internet. There are a lot of people roasting those officials online. The three representatives from the government all looked utterly exhausted and depressed, and they kept making mistakes during their presentations; but this shows just how chaotic things are for them. Actually, I kind of feel bad for them. I’m sure they have family members here in Wuhan, and when they attempted to take the blame for what was happening I really felt like they were speaking from the heart. But how did things get to this point? Looking back and going through everything in my head, it is pretty clear: During the early stage of the outbreak, officials from Wuhan didn’t take the virus seriously enough. Both before and after the quarantine went into effect, those officials were at a loss trying to deal with what was unfolding, which led to a great wave of public fear and really hurt a lot of people here in Wuhan. These are all aspects of the situation that I plan to write about in detail. But right now what I want to say is that what you saw from those government officials in Hubei is actually what you would expect from most government cadres in China: They are all basically on the same level. It’s not that they are somehow worse than other Chinese officials; they simply got dealt a worse hand. Officials in China have always let written directives guide their work, so once you take away the script they are at a complete loss as to how to steer the ship. If this outbreak had happened in another Chinese province, I’m sure the performance of those officials wouldn’t be much different than what we are seeing here. When the world of officialdom skips over the natural process of competition, it leads to disaster; empty talk about political correctness without seeking truth from facts also leads to disaster; prohibiting people from speaking the truth and the media from reporting the truth leads to disaster; and now we are tasting the fruits of these disasters, one by one. Wuhan is always vying to be first at everything, but now it is first in line to taste this suffering.

(This was a make-up entry written on January 27, 2020)

January 27, 2020

We don’t have enough face masks.

I would like to again express my thanks to everyone out there who has been lending their attention and support to what is happening in Wuhan, and also to the residents of Wuhan.

For the time being, most people are not too concerned with the big issues. What’s the use of worrying about those problems, anyway? Most people who are not infected are trying to remain optimistic.

One thing that citizens are more concerned about right now is the shortage of face masks. I saw an online video report today about a man in Shanghai who went to the pharmacy to buy a mask, only to find the price inflated to 30 yuan1 each. This guy was so infuriated by the markup that he lost his temper and started yelling at the employees; he recorded the whole thing with his cellphone. At the end of the day, he still bought some, but he insisted that the pharmacy give him a receipt so he would be able to prove how badly they were overcharging customers. I would never have thought of doing that; I really admire his bravery.

These disposable masks are quite wasteful and people go through them quickly. According to the medical professionals, only N95 masks are effective when it comes to stopping the spread of the virus. But in reality there is absolutely no way to get your hands on those types of masks. The ones for sale online are all out of stock. One of my brothers had better luck; his neighbors have some relatives who sent them more than 1,000 N95 masks! (They must have a lot of relatives!) They gave 10 masks to my brother’s family. “You see, there are still kindhearted people in the world,” my brother told me. But my eldest brother was not so lucky—they couldn’t get their hands on a single N95 mask. All they have are some disposable masks that my niece brought them. But what else can one do when supplies are limited? The only option is to wash them and disinfect them with a hot iron before reusing. It is actually a bit pathetic. (By the way, my niece wanted me to announce on Weibo that she still has not received any confirmation as to when Singapore citizens will be evacuated from Wuhan.)

I’m holding up about the same as before. I was supposed to visit a patient in the hospital on January 18th, but I could only go if I wore a face mask. But I didn’t have a single one on hand. Then I remembered that my old classmate Xu Min had given me one when I visited Chengdu back in mid-December, to protect me from the air pollution there. The air in Wuhan probably isn’t much better than in Chengdu, and I’ve long grown accustomed to breathing bad air, so I never wore that mask. Thanks to him, I found a way out of this bind. And it turns out it was actually an N95 mask! I wore that mask to the hospital, to the airport, and even when I went out to buy face masks! I wore that same mask for days on end, since I didn’t have any other choice.

Besides me, I also have a 16-year-old dog at home. On the afternoon of the 22nd I suddenly discovered that I was out of dog food. I quickly called the pet store to put in an order, I figured that I could also pick up some extra face masks while I was out. I went to the local pharmacy on Dongting Road (I won’t post the name of the store) and they had some N95 masks in stock, but they were selling them for 35 yuan each (five yuan more than that store in Shanghai!). A box of 25 masks was selling for 875 yuan. I asked them how they could be so cold-hearted as to price gouge their customers during a time like this. The storekeeper explained that their suppliers raised their prices, so they had no choice but to raise theirs. But since masks are a necessity, I was prepared to cave in and just buy a few, even at that inflated price. I was about to buy four masks from them when I discovered that the face masks all came in a big box with no individual packaging; when I saw the saleswoman reaching in with her bare hands to fish them out, I decided I had better not buy them after all. It’s better not to wear a mask at all than to wear one that has not been hygienically handled.

On the eve of the Lunar New Year, I went out again to try to buy some face masks, but all the pharmacies were closed. The only stores still open were a handful of small mom-and-pop markets. I found some N95 masks for sale at one store; they were gray Yimeng Mountain brand masks, each individually packaged. 10 yuan each. I bought four. Only then could I finally heave a small sigh of relief. Since I had heard that my big brother didn’t have any masks for his family, I also decided to save two for him. I was going to take them over to him the following day, but then he called and told me not to risk going out. It’s a good thing that we are all basically relegated to our apartments and don’t go outside, so we don’t really have a pressing need for that many masks.

I was just texting with a friend on WeChat; everyone is now talking about the shortage of face masks as the single most pressing issue. After all, all of us still need to occasionally leave our homes to buy food and supplies. One colleague had a friend send him some, but the package never arrived. Others have no choice but to purchase masks by fishy manufacturers. Online they are also talking about people selling used face masks that are “refurbished,” but no one dares to use those. Most people I know are down to their last mask or two, so we keep encouraging each other to use them sparingly. One joke I saw online was right on point: Face masks have indeed replaced pork as the most precious commodity for the Chinese New Year!

I’m sure that it is not just my brother, my colleague, and me who are short of face masks. There must be many people here in Wuhan without any face masks. But I am confident there isn’t a real shortage of supplies; it’s more a problem of the logistics of how to get them into people’s hands. Right now I just hope those express delivery companies can resume work soon and speed up the delivery of supplies into Wuhan; we need some help to get through these tough times.

January 28, 2020

The virus doesn’t discriminate between ordinary people and high-ranking leaders.

It finally stopped raining and the weather has been improving since yesterday. The sun even came out for a little while today. The sky is clear, which usually brightens one’s mood, but after being stuck at home for so long it just makes you even more frustrated. It has already been close to six days since the lockdown went into effect. Over the course of the past five days, people have had a lot more opportunities for real conversations with each other, but they have probably also had more opportunities to get into real arguments with each other, too. Most families have never spent so much time all clustered up together like they are now, especially those living in tiny apartments. Most adults can handle being forced to stay inside for so long, but small kids are bouncing off the walls—it is torture for them. I’m not sure if there are any psychologists out there who have any special advice on how to console the people of Wuhan. But no matter what happens, we need to hang on and get through these 14 days of isolation. They keep saying that the virus should reach full outbreak level within the next two days. I heard one doctor repeatedly urging people, “As long as you have something to eat at home, just stay in! Do not go outside!” Okay, then; I suppose I had better follow the doctor’s orders.

Today there is again a mix of good and bad news. Yesterday my old schoolmate Xia Chunping, who is now deputy chief editor of the China News Agency, did an interview with me over WeChat, and today he came over with a photographer to take a few photos for the story. The big surprise was that he brought me 20 N95 masks! It was like receiving a bag of coal on a cold winter’s day; I was ecstatic. As we were standing outside the main entrance to the Literary and Arts Federation building, talking, we ran into Old Geng, another former classmate, who was just returning from a trip to the store to buy rice. Old Geng looked us over with a suspicious gaze. I almost thought he might yell at us in that stern Henan accent of his: “Hey! Who are you people? Why are you standing in the entrance like that?” So when I saw that expression on his face I immediately called out to him and the look in his eyes instantly softened up. Old Geng became quite warm and cordial. He acted like we hadn’t seen each other in forever, even though we often interact with each other online in one of our mutual chat groups. Xia Chunping was a history major in college; back then, all the Chinese majors and history majors lived in the same dorm. So as soon as I introduced the two of them, they immediately hit it off. Old Geng lived in the same courtyard compound as me in both Wuhan and Hainan. But this year, we are both stuck in the same boat—neither of us made it down to Hainan, and instead we are both locked-down here in these dormitory-style apartments amid the quarantine. Old Geng told me that the two infected people from Building 8 had both been admitted to the hospital. All the neighbors seem to be breathing a bit easier since they left. I’m sure that couple will be better off getting professional medical treatment than just self-isolating at home. But I continue to pray for their swift recovery.

I saw Xia Chunping off and, just as I entered my apartment, my old friend Xiao Yuan came by. Xiao Yuan had edited some of my early books, like The Villas of Lushan and The Foreign Concessions of Hankou; he read my post about the scarcity of face masks and delivered three packages of masks right to my doorstep! I was so moved. It is good to have old friends you can count on. All of a sudden I have found myself with an overabundance of face masks. I’ve made sure to share them with my colleague who only yesterday was complaining about the scarcity of masks. Just now she came to pick them up and brought along some fresh vegetables for me. It really does feel like we are a little community working together to get through these difficult times. My colleague has three generations under one roof, so she has to take care of ailing in-laws and little kids. Because she has so many people to feed, she has to go out every other day to buy vegetables. She was born in the ’80s, and I’m sure it’s not easy for her and people of her generation. And on top of everything, she still has to deal with work. I saw a thread online where she was discussing whether or not they should still send out manuscripts for the next issue of their journal. When you have hardworking people like her in Wuhan, I’m sure we can get through anything that life throws at us.

But of course the bad news is circling everywhere. A few days ago when I first saw the news of a 40,000-person public banquet gathering at Baibuting, I immediately sent out a text to my friends group criticizing it. I was quite harsh with my words. I even said that hosting a large-scale community gathering like that during a time like this “should effectively be considered a form of criminal action.” That is what I said back on the 20th but I never imagined that on the 21st the provincial government would then go ahead and host a massive song-and-dance concert. Where has people’s common sense gone to? Even the virus must be thinking, Wow, you people have really underestimated me! I don’t want to say too much more about this issue. The bad news today is coming from where else but Baibuting, which now has several confirmed cases of the novel coronavirus. Although I haven’t authenticated this new information yet, based on my own intuition I don’t see any reason for my source to be lying. Just think about it; if you put 40,000 people together in a closed space, how can you expect people not to get infected? Some specialists have pointed out that the death toll from this type of new virus is not too high; everyone wants to believe that, myself included. However, some of the other news coming through is quite alarming. For those officials attending all those government meetings between the 10th and the 20th, please take care, because the virus doesn’t discriminate between ordinary people and high-ranking leaders.

While I’m writing, I’d like to say a little bit about Mayor Zhou Xianwang’s hat. For the past two days everyone online has been roasting him alive over his hat.2 During ordinary times I may have also gotten a good laugh out of this, but right now Mayor Zhou has been running all over the city, trying to lead an army of Wuhan city officials in the fight against this outbreak; you can see the exhaustion and anxiety written all over his face. I suspect that he may have even realized what will probably befall him once this thing has settled down. In times like this, people usually face a mixture of guilt, self-blame, uneasiness, and a sense that they should have done more, even though now it is all too late—I’m sure that Mayor Zhou is experiencing all these complex feelings. But he is, after all, still the man running our municipal government; he needs to pull himself together and focus on the pressing tasks ahead that we are going to have to face. He is, after all, just an ordinary person. I have heard people say that Mayor Zhou is a disciplined and pragmatic man; people usually have a very good impression of him. He started out in western Hubei and worked his way up the bureaucratic ladder, one step at a time. He has probably never encountered anything on this scale in his entire life. All this makes me think that we should perhaps look at this “hat incident” from a more sympathetic perspective. Perhaps it is something as simple as his wanting to wear a hat because it was so cold outside, but when he saw that the premier wasn’t wearing a hat he got nervous. After all, he is younger than Premier Li Keqiang and maybe he thought that if he wore a hat but the premier wasn’t wearing one, it might be interpreted as impolite? Perhaps that is why he suddenly took off his hat and handed it to his assistant. Perhaps it is better if we just look at it from this perspective?

Anyway, that’s all I have to record for today.

January 29, 2020

Taking care of oneself is one way to contribute to the effort.

I decided to just let everything go and slept all the way up until noon today. (It is actually not uncommon for me to sleep in like that, but in normal times I would blame myself for being so lazy. These days, however, everyone in Wuhan is saying: “On those sunny days when we till the crops, It’s hard to get a good night’s rest! We sleep all morning; we sleep all afternoon.”3 When people are all sleeping in like that, it is hard not to just let things go!)

I was still lying in bed flicking through messages on my phone when I saw a text one of my doctor friends sent me: “Take care of yourself and, no matter what, don’t go out! Don’t go out! Don’t go out!” I felt a bit jittery as soon as I saw the way he repeatedly emphasized the phrase “Don’t go out!” I figured this must mean that the outbreak is hitting its peak. I quickly called my daughter, who was about to go out to the local neighborhood supermarket to pick up a few boxed lunches. I told her not to go. Even if the only thing you have left to eat at home is plain white rice, don’t go out. Back on the first day of the Lunar New Year, when I first heard that the downtown district was shutting down the traffic, I immediately went over and brought her enough supplies to get her through at least 10 days. I suspect she was just too lazy to cook and that is why she wanted to go out. A good thing my daughter has a good fear of death ingrained in her! The second she heard what I had to say, she agreed to stay at home. She called me back a bit later to ask how to cook cabbage (can you believe that she actually put a head of cabbage in the freezer?). I don’t think my daughter has ever cooked a proper meal in her apartment. Usually she finds a way to get herself invited to other people’s houses for dinner, or just orders takeout. Perhaps this was a good way to get her to finally start using her kitchen. But I’m not sure if my daughter’s finally forcing herself to learn how to cook should be considered the silver lining in this situation. Compared to her, I’ve got it much easier. One of my neighbors just brought over a plate of steaming hot buns for me. We were both wearing face masks when she dropped the buns off; although it’s risky, I decided to just brave up and dig in.

The sun is glorious today. The most comfortable weather during the Wuhan winter is when the sun beams down like this, so soft and warm. If not for the coronavirus, I’m sure that the streets around my apartment would be jammed with traffic right now. That’s because East River Garden Lane, one of the Wuhan locals’ favorite destinations, is right around the corner. But these days East River Garden Lane is completely deserted. Two days ago my old classmate Old Dao went out there for a jog. He said that he was the only person out there. If you want to figure out where the safest place in the city is, I suspect that East River Garden Lane might be it.

For those of us here in Wuhan who are quarantined at home, most of us are fairly at ease—that is, as long as no one in our family is sick. But those patients and their families are really having a rough time. Right now it is extremely difficult to get a bed at any hospital, and many people are still suffering. The construction site for Huoshenshan Hospital4 is really kicking into high gear, but, as the old saying goes, distant water can’t put out a nearby fire. Those patients without a place to go are the greatest victims of this tragedy. So many families have been torn apart by this. But a lot of media outlets have been reporting on these stories. Freelance journalists have been even more active in covering this topic, many of them quietly documenting what has been happening from the very beginning. All we can do is record what is happening. This morning I read an essay about a family whose mother just died from the coronavirus on the first day of the Lunar New Year and both the father and the elder brother were infected. Reading that essay really tore me up, and this was basically a middle-class family. But what are all those lower-income people supposed to do? What will their lives be like? A few days ago, I actually saw some video clips of exhausted medical workers and patients collapsing, and I can tell you that I don’t think I have ever seen that kind of helpless sadness in my entire life. Professor Liu Chuan’e from Hubei University said that he feels like crying every day. Don’t we all?! I’ve been telling my friends that what we are seeing today allows one to clearly appreciate the true gravity of this human calamity. After pondering things, I really feel that there is no way to forgive those irresponsible workers; they should all pay a price for their incompetence. But for now all we can do is put all our efforts into this fight to get us through these hard times.

I should say a bit about what has been happening with me. Besides the fact that I’m in a very different state of mind than normal, my everyday life is actually not that different from before. During previous years, I spent the Lunar New Year in basically the same way as I’m spending it now. The only thing different is that I normally visit my great-uncle Yang Shuzi to pay my respects and join him for a New Year’s lunch, but this year the luncheon was canceled. My great-uncle is getting on in years and isn’t in the best of health, so we need to take special care not to expose him to the virus. So in the end, I basically didn’t go anywhere during the holiday this year. I actually have acute bronchitis and it usually acts up during the winter months. There was one period of time when I ended up being hospitalized for my bronchitis three years in a row during the Lunar New Year. So these past few days I have been repeatedly reminding myself to do everything possible to ensure that I don’t get sick. I did have a little headache a few days ago, and yesterday I had a slight cough; but today I’m feeling much better. A long time ago, Jiang Zidan5 (she is something of a specialist in traditional Chinese medicine) told me that, based on my illness, I have a condition referred to as “cold encapsulating fire.” From that point on, every winter I would prepare a traditional medicinal potion of milk vetch root, honeysuckle essence, chrysanthemum, Chinese wolfberry, red dates, and American ginseng, boiled in a pot of mulberry leaf tea. I gave my little potion the nickname “hodgepodge brew” and made sure to drink several large glasses each day. Once the coronavirus outbreak started to get serious, I added a morning vitamin C supplement, a glass of fizzy vitamin C drink, and a few glasses of hot water to my daily regimen. For my evening shower I made sure to let my back soak under the hot water, which was on the verge of scalding. I also went through an entire package of Lotus Flu Capsules. One of my classmates even taught me the “mantra of the closed door” to chant silently to myself: “Close up all of your body’s openings! If you stave off the cold wind, the hundred evils will not befall you! Store up the proper qi inside yourself, so the evil will be unable to assail!” He told me in a manner of all seriousness that this was a chant that had been secretly passed down for generations and was not at all “superstitious.” We had a good laugh about that one! I wonder if anyone really does chant it. In any case, I have already picked up whatever tricks I can from all sorts of people on how to protect myself from this virus, and I am employing them all, except, that is, for chanting the “mantra of the closed door”! But I think all those other tactics seem to be working. I’m in a pretty good state for the time being. Taking care of oneself is one way to contribute to the effort.

By the way, two days ago one of my posts on Weibo was taken down. It actually had a longer lifespan online than I originally thought it would. I didn’t expect it to be forwarded by so many people. I’ve grown accustomed to writing in that small 140-character window afforded one on the Weibo platform, so when I publish things online they tend to be quite informal (I always had a preference for a more informal style!). I just post whatever pops into my mind. I don’t spend much time editing my posts before uploading them, so there are often grammar and spelling mistakes (which is embarrassing, considering that I’m a graduate of the Wuhan University Chinese Department!). I hope readers will excuse me for my carelessness. I actually had absolutely no intention of criticizing anyone during this outbreak. (Isn’t there an old Chinese saying about “Best to wait until spring to settle your scores”?) After all, right now our main adversary is the virus itself. I am dedicated to standing side by side with the government and all the people of Wuhan, fully committed to battle this outbreak together. I am also 100 percent committed to accommodating any and all requests made of me by the government. However, as I write about this I also feel that reflection is required. And so, I reflect.

January 30, 2020

There is no way for them to shirk responsibility on this issue.

The sky is clear and it feels like one of those perfect winter days. This is the kind of weather that really allows you to appreciate the winter season. But the virus has completely destroyed all of that. It may as well be the most gorgeous day in a thousand years, yet there is no one outdoors to admire it.

The cruelty of reality continues to dangle before me. After I got up, I saw a news story about a peasant traveling in the middle of the night who was prohibited from going to his destination. People had built a dirt wall to block the road and no matter how he pleaded, the people guarding the road would not let him pass. Where else could that peasant go in the middle of a cold winter night? It was really difficult to watch. The regulations that they have put in place to prevent the spread of the disease are pretty good, but you can’t enforce them with an iron will that overlooks the basic principles of what is humane. Why is it that all these different levels of government officials are able to take an official document and turn it into something so dogmatic and inflexible? Why couldn’t someone just put on a face mask and take that poor man to an empty room where he could spend a night in isolation? What would be so wrong with that? I also saw a report of a child with special needs whose father was ordered into isolation; the child was forced to live on his own for five days and ended up dying of starvation. This outbreak has exposed so many different things: It has exposed the rudimentary level of so many Chinese officials, and it has exposed the diseases running rampant through the very fabric of our society. These are diseases that are much more evil and tenacious than the novel coronavirus. Moreover, there is no cure in sight. That is because there are no doctors willing to treat this disease. Just thinking about this leaves me with an indescribable sadness. A few minutes ago a friend told me that a young man from our work unit got sick about two days ago and has been having difficulty breathing. He thinks he has the coronavirus but hasn’t been properly diagnosed and there are no hospital beds for him. He is really a good, honest, hardworking young man and I’m quite close to his whole family. I really hope it is just a common cold, and praying that he hasn’t been struck down by this evil virus.

I’ve been getting a lot of messages from people who saw my interview with China News Agency and really appreciated the things I was saying. Of course, a lot of the original content was censored, which is understandable. However, there are a few things that I think should be worth preserving. When I was discussing the topic of “self-treatment,” I also said: “The most important group we should be paying attention to are those who are infected and the families of those people who have died from the coronavirus. They are the ones who are worst off and suffering the deepest pain. Many of them will never truly recover from what they have experienced here. They are the ones most in need of the government’s support. . . .” When I think back and reflect on that peasant who was turned away in the middle of the night, when I think about that boy who starved to death at home, those countless everyday people calling out in vain for help, those people from Wuhan (including children) who have been discriminated against and driven out onto the streets like a pack of stray dogs, I have a hard time imagining how much time will have to pass before they can heal their pain. And that is not even to mention how much we have lost on a national scale.

For the past two days, the internet has been abuzz with news about how that group of specialists behaved when they visited Wuhan. That’s right, these are the same well-respected “specialists” who lowered their guard and nonchalantly told us that it was “Not Contagious Between People” and “It’s Controllable and Preventable”; they have truly committed heinous crimes with their irresponsible words. If they had even an ounce of decency left, I wonder what sense of guilt they might feel when they see all those people suffering. Of course, the political leaders of Hubei have the basic responsibility to ensure the safety and security of the people who live here. Now that we have arrived at a time when the people are no longer safe or secure, how could they not share some of the responsibility? The coronavirus getting to this point is the result of multiple forces coming together. There is no way for them to shirk responsibility on this issue. But right now what we really want is for them to stand up and lead the people of Hubei out of this dark place, with a sense of repentance and responsibility. That is how they can win back the people’s understanding and forgiveness. If Wuhan can make it through this, the rest of the country can, too.

All my relatives live here in Wuhan. I am quite thankful that up until now everyone has remained healthy. Actually, most of my family members are getting old. My eldest brother and his wife are already in their mid-70s, and my other brother is also about to hit 70. Staying infection-free is the best thing we can do to help our country. I’m happy that my niece and her son were finally able to make it safely back to Singapore, where they are now being quarantined in a resort area. For that, I need to express my deepest thanks to the Hongshan Department of Transportation. When my niece received the notification yesterday, it read: “The flight to Singapore will depart at 3:00 a.m.; please arrive early to the airport.” But my brother doesn’t drive, and with public transportation shut down, they had absolutely no way to get to the airport. That’s where I came in. I asked Officer Xiao to help get my niece to the airport. My entire family is grateful for his help. When you are in a bind, you can always go to the police for help! That’s something you can always count on. But the fact that my niece and her son were able to get out safely is the only thing I have to be happy about today.

It is already Day Six of the Lunar New Year, eight days since the quarantine began. What needs to be said is that although the people of Wuhan tend to be naturally optimistic, and things around the city are becoming increasingly orderly, the reality here inside the city is growing grimmer by the day.

For dinner I had a small bowl of rice porridge. In a little bit I’ll go on the treadmill to get some exercise. Little by little, bit by bit, I’m recording everything here in my little file.

January 31, 2020

If you are just going to fawn all over the officials, please restrain yourselves.

It is the seventh day of the Lunar New Year and the weather is bright and sunny. Might this be a good omen? This week will be the most critical stage in our fight against the virus. The specialists are all saying that by the fifteenth day of the Lunar New Year, all infected individuals should start showing symptoms. That should be the turning point. So we just need to hang in there for one more week. After this week, all the infected patients should be segregated, and those not showing symptoms should be free to leave their homes; then we’ll be free—at least, that is how they are imagining it. It has now been nine days since the city went into quarantine, and we have already gotten through the bulk of it.

I grabbed my phone before even getting out of bed and immediately saw some really good news: That young man that I work with sent a group text saying that he has “not been infected after all. I’m now completely back to normal. I had an upset stomach yesterday and must have taken too much medicine, which caused those symptoms! I know I’m a stupid kid! Anyway, once this whole virus business is over, I’m treating everyone to dinner to make up for giving everyone such a scare!” I was still giggling from that message when I saw another bit of news. There is a guy from the provincial song-and-dance troupe that a lot of my friends know; after he fell ill, he got on the wait-list to be admitted to the hospital, but by the time notice arrived that they had a bed for him he had just passed away. I also heard that quite a few government officials from Hubei have been infected and a few have already died. My god, how many families here in Wuhan are being destroyed by this disaster? And up until now I still haven’t heard a single person stand up to take responsibility or apologize. Instead, I just see an endless number of people writing essays or giving speeches that shirk the responsibility onto others.

Who can the families of the deceased cry out to? Who can they curse? I saw an interview that a reporter did with a Chinese writer, and in the interview he talked about “winning a resounding victory against the virus.” I was speechless. Take a look at Wuhan! Take a look at the entire country! Millions of people are living in fear, thousands of people are hospitalized with their lives hanging by a thread, countless families have been destroyed. Where is this “win”? Where is this “victory”? Where is the end to all this? This writer is a colleague of mine in the same profession, so I feel bad cutting into him like this. But don’t these people think before they speak? But that’s not it. They are just trying to say something to please the higher-ups; he definitely thought it through. I was happy that right after that, I discovered another essay by another writer also criticizing those comments. The essay was extremely critical and really took that other writer to task. This tells me that there must be a lot of writers out there with a conscience. I may no longer be the chair of the Hubei Writers Association, but I am still a writer. I wanted to remind my fellow Hubei writers that while many of you may be asked to write essays and poems celebrating all the great achievements of the government, I hope that before you pick up your pen you are able to reflect for a few moments about who it is that you should really be celebrating. If you are just going to fawn all over the officials, please restrain yourselves. I might be old, but I will never tire when it comes to speaking out.

I have been rushing around the kitchen all morning cooking for my daughter; I plan to take some food over to her tonight. She returned from a trip to Japan on the 22nd and didn’t get back to her apartment until after midnight. As soon as she returned, the quarantine was imposed so she never had time to go shopping or make any proper preparations. I delivered some food to her just before the Lunar New Year and again on the first day of the New Year. That lasted her a few days, but now she is running out and was talking about ordering some takeout. Her father and I are both vehemently opposed to her ordering takeout, so I decided to take her some food myself. I don’t live that far from my daughter; it is usually just a 10- or 15-minute drive. I checked with the police and they said it is no problem to go out on the roads. So I decided to cook some things for her and take them over myself. I feel a bit like “I’m bringing rations to the Red Army!” They don’t allow people to enter her neighborhood, so I had to meet her at the entrance to her neighborhood and hand the food off to her there. She is the only one from her generation in my family who decided to remain in Wuhan, so no matter what, I have to protect her.

The gate to our building is on the second ring of the city, and it is usually bustling with traffic and crowded with pedestrians. These days there are very few cars and even fewer people. The main roads are all decorated with lights and lanterns for the Chinese New Year, yet all the stores along the side streets are closed, making everything appear dark and desolate. All the buildings along the main roads are decorated with lights for the Military World Games, which flicker from every direction.6 Back when the games were being held, I found those flashing lights incredibly irritating; they were really quite the eyesore. But now as I drive down these empty streets, those festive, sparkling lights somehow give me a sense of comfort. Things have indeed changed.

Some of the smaller supermarkets are still open. There are also a few vegetable peddlers set up on the sidewalk. I bought some vegetables from one of those peddlers and went to the supermarket to pick up some milk and eggs (I actually had to go to three markets before I found one with eggs in stock). I asked the storekeeper whether or not she was afraid of getting infected by staying open during the outbreak. She answered frankly: “We’ve got to go on living; so do you!” That’s right, they have to carry on, we all have to carry on; that’s simply all we can do! I always admire those working-class people and often strike up a chat with them; somehow that always gives me a strange sense of security. Even during that two- or three-day cold spell when it was windy and rainy and the outbreak was really out of control, the streets were almost completely empty. Yet even then there would always be at least one sanitation worker out there, meticulously sweeping the streets. Whenever I caught a glimpse of one of them, I would immediately start to feel guilty for feeling so scared and anxious; one sight of them is always enough to immediately set me at ease.

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