But I am telling the truth!’ Anger flared up in Mr.Chiu. ‘Your police station owes me an apology. My train ticket has expired, my new leather sandals are ruined, and I am late for a conference in the provincial capital. You must compensate me for the damage and losses. Don’t mistake me for a common citizen who wouldn’t tremble when you sneeze. I’m a scholar, a philosopher, and an expert in dialectal materialism. If necessary, we will argue about this in The Northeastern Daily, or will we go to the highest People’s Court in Beijing. Tell me, what’s your name?’ He got carried away with his harangue, which was by no means trivial and had worked to his advantage on numerous occasions