by Yu Hua
Leading the Red Guards was a young woman. They made their way over, and the woman looked at us and yelled, “Why aren’t there any slogans here? Where are the big character posters? The team leader—who’s the team leader?”
The team leader quickly threw down his hoe and ran over, bowing and nodding.
“Comrade Red Guard Leader,” he addressed her.
The girl waved her arms as she asked, “How come there are no slogans or big character posters?”
“There are slogans. We’ve got two painted behind that building over there,” answered the team leader.
At most, the girl couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, yet she acted so cocky in front of our team leader, her eyes casting sidelong glances at him. A few of the Red Guards were carrying paint buckets, and she ordered them, “Go paint some slogans.”
The Red Guards ran right down to the village houses to paint slogans. The girl in charge of the Red Guards ordered our team leader, “Assemble everyone in the village together!”
The team leader quickly fumbled for his whistle. He blew it with all his might, and everyone working in the fields ran over. The girl waited until just about everyone showed up, then yelled at us, “Who’s the landlord here?”
As soon as everyone heard this, they turned to look at me; their collective gaze made my legs quiver. Thank god the team leader said, “The local landlord was executed just after Liberation.”
“Are there any rich peasants?” she asked.
The team leader humbly responded, “There was one, but he passed away two years ago.”
Keeping an eye on the team leader, the girl yelled at us, “Then are there any capitalist roaders?”
Maintaining his smiling face, the team leader said, “How could there be capitalist roaders in a little village like this?”
She suddenly shot out her hand, almost hitting the team leader in the nose, and asked, “Who are you?”
The team leader was so scared that he stuttered, “I’m the team leader, the team leader.”
Who could have known she would scream, “You’re the capitalist roader! Abusing your power to walk the road to capitalism!”
The team leader, overcome with fear, kept waving his hands and saying, “No, no, I never took that road.”
The girl ignored him and turned to us.
“He’s been making you live through a white terror, oppressing and belittling you!” she shouted. “You must stand up and rebel! Break his fucking legs!”
Everyone in the village was stupefied. Normally the team leader had a certain air of authority about him. We listened to whatever he said, and no one ever really thought he said or did anything wrong. And now here was the team leader suffering so badly at the hands of these city kids that he couldn’t even stand up straight. He kept begging for mercy, saying all the things we didn’t dare say. After begging for a while, the team leader turned to us and yelled, “C’mon, tell them I’ve never bullied or oppressed you!”
Everyone looked at the team leader and then at those Red Guards. Finally, in twos and threes, we uttered, “The team leader’s a good man. He’s never bullied or oppressed us.”
The girl frowned as she looked at us.
“You’re hopeless,” she said.
With that, she turned to her fellow Red Guards and waved her hand. “Take him away.”
Two of the Red Guards walked over to the team leader and grabbed hold of his arms. The team leader stretched out his neck, screaming, “I’m not going! Help me, I can’t go into town! Going into town is like going to the grave!”
But no matter how much the team leader screamed and yelled, it was useless. They twisted his arms behind his back so that he had to stoop over, and they took him away. Everybody watched as the Red Guards shouted slogans and marched off with a look of murder in their eyes. Not a single person went up to try to stop them. No one had that kind of courage.
As soon as the team leader was carried off like that, everyone was struck by the grim possibilities. The entire town was in a state of pure chaos. Even if the team leader was able to hold on to his life, he’d probably end up losing an arm or a leg. But who could have known that he would come back in less than three days? He stumbled down the road toward home with a blackened nose and swollen eyes. When the people working in the fields saw him they rushed over and called out, “Team leader!”
The team leader raised his eyebrows and looked at everybody but didn’t utter a word. He kept walking until he got to his house, where he lay down and slept for two whole days. On the third day he picked up his hoe and went back to the fields. By then the swelling on his face was not nearly as bad. When he came out everyone surrounded him, asking all sorts of questions. When they asked him if he was still sore, he shook his head and said, “The pain wasn’t so bad. The worst part was they didn’t let me get any fucking sleep—it was like torture.”
As the team leader continued, tears came to his eyes. “I guess I’ve finally seen it all. I’ve always taken care of everyone as if you were my own children, but now that I’m in trouble I just have to live with my bad luck, huh? Not a single one of you came to help me.”
After the team leader said that, none of us had the nerve to look him in the eye. The team leader was dragged into town and had to withstand three days of beating, but in the end he came out all right. Chunsheng, on the other hand, lived in town, and he wasn’t as lucky. I wasn’t aware that Chunsheng had run into trouble until I went into town to visit Fengxia one day. On my way there I saw a group of people being paraded around the street wearing signs around their necks and all different kinds of paper dunce hats. At first I didn’t pay much attention to them, but as soon as they passed by me I was taken aback. The one in front was Chunsheng. Chunsheng had his head lowered, so he didn’t notice me. As soon as he passed by, he picked up his head and chanted, “Long live Chairman Mao!”
A couple of kids wearing red armbands rushed over to him. Kicking and hitting him, they cursed, “Was that you who yelled? You fucking capitalist roader!”
Chunsheng was knocked partly to the ground, his body resting on the wooden sign that hung from his neck. One of the kids kicked his head, making a “bong” sound; it sounded like a hole had been knocked in his head. His whole body collapsed to the ground. Chunsheng was beaten until he couldn’t make a sound—never in my whole life had I seen a person beaten like that. Lying on the ground, enduring relentless kicking, Chunsheng looked like a dead carcass. If they kept on like that, Chunsheng would be beaten to death. I went over and pulled two of them by the sleeve, saying, “I beg you, don’t beat him.”
They pushed me away with so much force I nearly fell to the ground.
“Who the hell are you?” they demanded.
“Please, stop hitting him,” I repeated.
One of them pointed to Chunsheng and said, “Do you know who he is? He’s the old magistrate, a capitalist roader!”
“I don’t know anything about that,” I said. “All I know is that he’s Chunsheng.”
Once they started talking, they stopped beating Chunsheng and ordered him to get up. After being beaten like that, how was Chunsheng supposed to get up? Just as I approached to help him up, Chunsheng recognized me. He said, “Fugui, get out of here.”
That day when I got home I sat on the edge of the bed and told Jiazhen what I had seen. After hearing what had happened, Jiazhen lowered her head and said, “I shouldn’t have kept Chunsheng from coming in that time.”
Although Jiazhen didn’t say anything else, I knew that we were thinking the same thing.
Over a month later, Chunsheng made a secret visit to our house. It was the middle of the night, and Jiazhen and I were both asleep when we were awakened by a knock at the door. I opened the door and by the light of the moon saw that it was Chunsheng, his face so swollen that it was round and inflamed.
“Chunsheng, hurry up and come in,” I said.
Chunsheng stood at the door, unwilling to come inside.
&n
bsp; “Is it okay with your wife?” he asked.
“Jiazhen, it’s Chunsheng,” I called over to her in a hushed tone.
Jiazhen sat up in bed without answering. I asked Chunsheng in again, but without Jiazhen’s invitation Chunsheng wouldn’t budge.
“Fugui, can you come out for a second?” he asked.
I turned to Jiazhen and repeated, “Jiazhen, Chunsheng’s here.”
Jiazhen still didn’t answer, leaving me no choice but to drape a jacket over my shoulders and go out. Chunsheng walked over by the tree in front of our house and said to me, “Fugui, I came to say good-bye.”
“Where are you going?” I asked.
He bit his teeth trying to hold back his emotions as he uttered, “I don’t want to live anymore.”
His words shocked me. I quickly grabbed hold of his arms and said, “Chunsheng, don’t be ridiculous. You’ve got a wife and son.”
As soon as he heard this, Chunsheng started to cry.
“Fugui, every day they tie me up and beat me,” he said. As he spoke he stretched out his hands. “Feel my hands.”
The second I touched them I realized his hands felt as if they had been boiled. They were so hot it scared the hell out of me. I asked him, “Does it hurt?”
He shook his head. “I can’t feel them anymore.”
I gently pushed his shoulders and said, “Chunsheng, sit down.
“No matter what, you have got to think straight,” I told him. “The dead all want to keep on living. Here you are alive and kicking; you can’t die.”
I went on, “Your life is given to you by your parents. If you don’t want to live, you have to ask them first.”
Wiping his tears, Chunsheng said, “My parents passed away a long time ago.”
“Then that’s all the more reason to keep on living,” I said. “Think about it: from north to south you were in so many battles during the war. Staying alive wasn’t easy, was it?”
That night Chunsheng and I talked endlessly. Sitting inside in bed, Jiazhen heard everything. By the time dawn was approaching it seemed like Chunsheng had come around. When he stood up to leave, Jiazhen called from inside, “Chunsheng!”
For a moment the two of us were caught off guard. Only after Jiazhen called a second time did Chunsheng answer. We walked over to the door, and Jiazhen called out from bed, “Chunsheng, you’ve got to hang in there. You’ve got to keep on living.”
Chunsheng nodded his head, and Jiazhen began to cry.
“You still owe us a life,” she told him. “Hold on to your life to repay us.”
Chunsheng stood there for a moment.
“I know,” he finally said.
I saw Chunsheng off. But when we got to the edge of the village, Chunsheng made me stop; he wouldn’t let me see him off any farther. I stood at the edge of the village, watching Chunsheng hobble off toward town. He had been beaten so badly that he walked with a limp. He lowered his head, and it looked like those steps were consuming his last bit of energy. I felt uneasy.
“Chunsheng,” I called out to him. “Promise me you’ll keep on living!”
Chunsheng took a few more steps and turned around to say, “I promise you.”
But in the end Chunsheng didn’t keep his promise. Just over one month later I heard the news that Magistrate Liu had hung himself. No matter how lucky a person is, the moment he decides he wants to die, there’s nothing that will keep him alive. I told Jiazhen what had happened, and she was depressed for the whole day. That night she said to me, “We shouldn’t have blamed Chunsheng for Youqing’s death.”
When work in the fields started to pick up, I wasn’t able to go into town to visit Fengxia as often as I would have liked. It was a good thing there was the people’s commune at the time so I could work with the other villagers—that way I didn’t have to worry about not carrying my weight. But Jiazhen still couldn’t get out of bed. I had to work from dawn till dusk, rushing home several times during the day to mak sure Jiazhen wasn’t hungry. I was really exhausted. I was getting older, too. If it had been twenty years earlier, it would have been a different story. Back then I would have been okay with just a bit of sleep, but once I got older, sleep didn’t seem to do much to replenish my strength. While I was working, I barely had the energy to raise my arms. Every day I’d hide among the other villagers, pretending to be working. They understood that I was in a difficult situation, and not one of them said anything bad about me.
During the busy season, Fengxia came back to stay a few days with us. She boiled water, cooked and took care of Jiazhen, making things a lot easier for me. But when I thought about it, I knew that a daughter married off was just like a pail of water that had been dumped out. Fengxia already belonged to Erxi, and I knew she wouldn’t be able to stay too long. Jiazhen and I discussed it and decided that, no matter what, we couldn’t let her stay, so we sent Fengxia away. I literally had to push her all the way to the edge of the village. The villagers laughed when they saw us, saying they’d never seen a father like me. When I heard that, I also giggled—I figured that there probably wasn’t a single daughter in the entire village who was as good to her father as my Fengxia.
“Fengxia’s only one person. If she spends all her time taking care of Jiazhen and me, who’s gonna take care of my crooked-headed son-in-law?” I said.
Not long after I forced Fengxia to leave she came back, only this time my crooked-headed son-in-law came with her. From far away I saw a couple holding hands, and I knew it was them. I didn’t even need to see Erxi’s crooked head; the second I saw them walking hand in hand I knew it was them. Erxi was carrying a bottle of yellow rice wine and couldn’t stop smiling. Fengxia had a basket under her arm and was smiling in the same way as Erxi. I wondered what had happened for them to be so happy.
When they got to the house, Erxi closed the door and said, “Mom, Dad, Fengxia’s pregnant.”
As soon as Jiazhen and I heard this, our faces lit up with happiness. Only after the four of us had smiled for what seemed like an eternity did Erxi remember the bottle of wine in his hand. He went over to the bed and put the bottle down on a small table while Fengxia took a bowl of peas out of her basket.
“Let’s all go over to the bed,” I suggested.
Fengxia sat down beside Jiazhen, while I brought back four bowls and sat down next to Erxi at the other end of the bed. Erxi poured me a full glass of wine, gave Jiazhen one, too, and then he went to pour some for Fengxia. Fengxia grabbed hold of the bottle and kept shaking her head.
“Today you get to drink, too,” Erxi told her.
It seemed that Fengxia understood what he had said because she stopped shaking her head. We raised our bowls to drink, and after taking a sip Fengxia looked at her mother with furrowed brows. Jiazhen was also frowning, but then she smiled through her closed lips. Erxi and I both finished off our bowls with one chug, sending a whole bowl of wine right into our stomachs. Tears came to Erxi’s eyes as he said, “Dad, Mom, I never dreamed that a day like this would come.”
As soon as she heard this Jiazhen became teary. Seeing Jiazhen like that, tears also fell from my eyes.
“I also never thought things would turn out like this,” I said. “Our biggest worry used to be what Fengxia would do after Jiazhen and I passed away. Once you married Fengxia we could finally rest at ease. Now that you’re going to have a child, that’s even better. Fengxia will have someone to bury her after she dies.”
Seeing us in tears, Fengxia also began to weep. Through her tears Jiazhen said, “If only Youqing were still alive. Fengxia practically raised him; they were so close. But he can’t be here to share today with us.”
Erxi started to wail, his crying even more violent than before. He said, “If only my parents were still alive. When my mom died she was squeezing my hand and wouldn’t let go.”
The more the four of us cried, the more depressed we became. After crying for a while, Erxi smiled and pointed to the bowl of peas, saying, “Mom, Dad, try some. Fengxia made them
herself.”
“Okay, I’ll have some,” I said. “Jiazhen, you try some, too.”
Jiazhen and I looked at each other and laughed—we were about to become grandparents. That day the four of us laughed and cried until dusk, when Erxi and Fengxia left.
Once Fengxia was pregnant, Erxi seemed to love her even more. When summer came, their house was filled with mosquitoes, and they didn’t have a mosquito net. As soon as it got dark, Erxi would have Fengxia sit outside in the cool night air while he lay down in bed to let the mosquitoes feed on him. Only after all the mosquitoes had had their fill would he let Fengxia come in to sleep. A couple of times Fengxia went in to check on him, and he’d get all anxious and carry her back out. Erxi’s neighbors told me all this. They’d say to Erxi, “You should buy a mosquito net.”
Erxi laughed but didn’t say anything. Only later did he tell me, “It wouldn’t be right, considering I still haven’t finished paying off the debt.”
I felt bad seeing Erxi covered from head to toe with little red spots where he’d been bitten. I told him, “Don’t be like that.”
Erxi said, “I’m just one person—it doesn’t matter if they take a few extra bites. But Fengxia’s different—she counts for two people now.”
Fengxia gave birth on a winter day. The snow was falling so heavily that we couldn’t even see out our window. Fengxia went into the delivery room and didn’t come out all night. Waiting outside, Erxi and I became increasingly anxious and worried. Each time a doctor came out we’d rush up to ask how Fengxia was doing. We’d relax as soon as we found out she was still in labor. As dawn neared Erxi said, “Dad, why don’t you get some rest.”
I shook my head, saying, “I’m too anxious to sleep.”
