Seeing Lian Youming staring at the old man in black, Wu Kui could not help urging him, "Come on, Brother Lian, stop looking. Let's get to the toilet. I can't hold it much longer."
Lian Youming had no choice but to look away. "Has this Logging Camp been around for a long time?"
Wu Kui answered without thinking, "Didn't you hear the Party secretary? He said it was here before the country was founded. Of course, it wasn't under our control back then. It belonged either to Old Chiang or some bandit gang."
They talked as they walked and soon found a row of drafty wooden shacks in the northwest corner of the Logging Camp. This was the men's toilet. The women's toilet was twenty or thirty meters away, separated from them by a wooden fence covered with old slogans.
The Logging Camp was quiet, the frost and snow silent.
Stacks of felled timber lay across the white snow, alongside a large plot of reclaimed vegetable land.
Autumn had only just begun. Who would have expected it to turn cold so quickly, with such a sudden heavy snowfall?
"Brother Lian, what job do you want when they hand out work assignments?"
Inside the toilet, Wu Kui stuck out his pale bare backside against the cold wind rising from the pit. He strained with all his might until his face turned red.
Lian Youming's stomach was also unsettled. He did not know whether he had eaten something bad, but the blast of cold air set his guts churning. He immediately picked a pit and squatted down.
"We get to choose?"
"Why not? It's not like when the movement first started. Back then, it was all about enduring hardship and working hard. Now it's about putting everyone's talents and everything's uses to good account. Of course we should pick something we're good at. I certainly don't want to train donkeys again. But with it getting cold, logging is out. Apart from emptying the latrines, there's chopping firewood and carrying water. A few more heavy snowfalls, and we might even have to head down the mountain."
"My older brother was sent to the Northeast before. He said spring and summer were the only seasons you could stand living here. If heavy snow sealed off the mountains, all the educated youths had to head down. But things aren't like they used to be. They slept in tents on makeshift beds on the ground. They didn't have heated brick beds like us. There's a road outside now, too. We'll probably stay up here in the mountains. It'll be a good chance to read."
Wu Kui was something of a chatterbox. Once he started, he could not stop.
He paused briefly, then continued, "And before winter really sets in, they're bound to send people hunting in the mountains. We'll have to carry rifles and patrol the surrounding forest, both to protect the Logging Camp and drive away wild animals, picking up some game and mountain produce along the way. Besides, we can't eat corn-grit porridge and cornmeal buns every day. Apart from growing our own food, we have to hunt it ourselves, too."
Hearing that he would finally get to handle a rifle, Lian Youming perked up at once.
He had long since grown bored with the Slingshot in his pack.
Before he could ask for details, however, Wu Kui abruptly changed the subject. Something happy must have occurred to him, for he gave a foolish grin. "Heh, we can also organize some cultural activities and put together performances with the girls. You don't know this, but I even brought an accordion. Here in this world of ice and snow, in these years of hardship and struggle, I long for an unforgettable romance, sincere and beautiful..."
By the end, Wu Kui had clenched both hands and was straining so hard that his face turned blue, yet he still could not get anything out.
Lian Youming, by contrast, was pouring it out in a torrent. Beneath his backside came a crashing, splattering racket, as though heaven and earth were collapsing. With the cold wind cutting into his flesh beneath his crotch, he finally finished with his legs weak and his vision darkening.
By the time the two staggered outside, dawn was almost fully upon them.
On the way back, Lian Youming glanced toward the clearing again, but the old man in black was nowhere to be seen.
Outside the dormitory, they found two identical young men holding buckets and scrubbing out urine stains. A militia platoon leader stood beside them.
"Where did you two go?"
The militiaman looked to be in his early thirties, with thick brows, large eyes, and a ring of short, newly sprouted mustache above his lip. His dark face was weather-beaten, and his large hands were covered in calluses.
Wu Kui was shy and reserved. He had been able to relax during their earlier conversation, but now his lips moved without producing an answer.
Lian Youming said, "Upset stomachs. We went to the toilet."
The militiaman nodded, then turned to the brothers Yu Wen and Yu Wu and reprimanded them with a grim face. "They knew to find the toilet, but you two had to piss in the water buckets. If you're so clever, why didn't you piss on the heated bed? Everything in this room was left behind by our predecessors. You might not treasure it, but plenty of other people do. Since you like pissing so much, starting today, you're responsible for cleaning the men's toilet and emptying the latrines."
Yu Wen and Yu Wu wore miserable expressions, wanting to cry but finding no tears.
"And you two, hurry up and wash. Once you're done, everyone is to gather in the Logging Camp's dining hall."
With that, the militiaman walked away without looking back.
Holding his bucket, Yu Wen lamented, "Damn. Who'd have thought my burning enthusiasm for going to the countryside would be extinguished by a bucket of piss? I'm done for. If I stink of shit and piss from now on, how am I supposed to chat up the girls?"
Lian Youming had no interest in the brothers. He was still thinking about getting a rifle. Hearing that they were to gather in the dining hall, he quickly washed up and headed over.
When he arrived, there were hardly any people inside.
Tables and chairs stood in the middle, with large pots and stoves set up in a corner. Garlic hung on the walls, along with dried mushrooms, wood ear fungi, and wild vegetables.
Since they were to be self-sufficient, they would naturally have to cook their own meals.
Bored, Lian Youming looked around. His wandering gaze passed through a cobwebbed window and fell on the clearing behind the dining hall.
Beneath the white snow, four graves were overgrown with weeds.
Unlike the last time he had looked, livestock were being kept there. He could see a flock of hens hopping about on the snow, and the smell of pig manure drifted over from nearby.
Someone actually lived in a place like that.
Could it be the person who had watched him practice martial arts that day?
"Strange!"
The longer Lian Youming looked, the stranger it seemed.
This was no urban neighborhood, but a Logging Camp deep in the Greater Khingan Mountains, surrounded by primeval forest. Predators were bound to prowl here; bears, wolves, leopards, lynxes, even tigers might turn up. Yet every hen he saw was plumper than the next, and eggs filled their nests. They had clearly been raised here for quite some time.
Counting carefully, he found there were quite a few-seven or eight.
"Hm?"
Suddenly, Lian Youming saw a girl of fifteen or sixteen emerge from the earthen house. Dressed as a hunter, she carried a crude hunting rifle on her back and a hunting knife at her waist. With a basket in her hand, she lowered her head and gathered eggs.
While Lian Youming watched, absorbed, an old face abruptly rose before the window, with blade-sharp eyes and a hooked nose. Fierce, aged, and sinister, paired with black clothing, it was like seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
"Holy shit!"
Lian Youming's scalp prickled, and he sprang four or five meters back as though electrocuted.
The old man's expression was cold and forbidding. He said nothing, merely staring at Lian Youming.
It was the very same old man in black who had been practicing boxing.
Lian Youming drew a deep breath and hurriedly retreated several more steps without saying anything.
Just then, Wu Kui's voice came from behind him. "Brother Lian, why did you walk so fast? I couldn't catch up."
Lian Youming looked back and saw that quite a few educated youths had already begun arriving.
He took another long look at the window before joining the others.
Before long, the militia platoon leader from earlier came in as well.
There was no lengthy speech. Once everyone had arrived, he introduced himself as Yang Dapao, then briskly assigned each of the educated youths their work.
The men were responsible for hauling timber, chopping firewood, and other physical labor. The women would carry water, cook, grind rice, hull millet, and tend the vegetable plot. Although autumn had arrived and snow had fallen, certain special vegetable varieties could still be grown.
In short, they were to take care of themselves and be self-sufficient.
To Lian Youming's delight, however, it was just as Wu Kui had said: the militia platoon leader wanted two educated youths to help guard the Logging Camp, and they would be issued rifles.
The main reason was that the cold had arrived too early this year, so they needed to stockpile winter food ahead of time. With rifles, they could hunt in the mountains during their spare time and knock down pine nuts as well.
Hearing that they would have to roam the mountains in such cold weather, the educated youths looked at one another, all of them staring blankly.
"Me!"
Lian Youming had been waiting impatiently for this.
His height and build already made him stand out. Now, volunteering and loudly declaring that he feared no bitter cold and would conquer heaven and battle earth, he immediately won the militia platoon leader's approval.
"Me, too."
To everyone's surprise, someone also stepped out from among the women.
She was tall and looked anything but frail, instead giving an impression of toughness and competence. Her name was Zhao Xiaozhi, and she was one of the female educated youths who had been sent to Kaoshan Village with Lian Youming.
Seeing that no one else stepped forward, the militia platoon leader took the two of them to the Logging Camp's clearing to test their marksmanship.
But as Lian Youming looked at the Hanyang Arsenal Rifle placed in his hands, the excitement in his eyes vanished.
He weighed it in his hands, tested its feel, then examined the blade cuts and burn marks on it. It was clearly an old relic, possibly older than his parents' ages combined. Even the rifling inside its barrel had almost worn away.
Is this a rifle or a fire poker? It's probably worse than my Slingshot. Do they think I'm a kid?
Lian Youming grumbled inwardly, but seeing the young woman loading her ammunition with practiced ease, he could hardly back down. He began loading as well.
At the militia platoon leader's signal, both worked their bolts. Two sharp shots rang out, and their bullets struck the same wooden post, scattering a spray of snow.
The platoon leader grinned. "Not bad."
But they were not allowed to take the rifles just yet. After waiting a while, they saw two people arrive, one old and one young.
The older one was a villager from a settlement below the mountain, a mountain hunter dressed for the part. He wore a goatee and carried a crude civilian hunting rifle, with a pouch and a copper flask tied at his waist containing gunpowder and iron shot.
The younger one was a girl of fifteen or sixteen, with a hunting knife at her waist and a crude rifle over her shoulder. A large wolfish dog with a glossy coat followed at her heels. She was the same girl who had been collecting eggs earlier.
The militia platoon leader explained, "This is the granddaughter of the Mountain-Guarding Old Man who lives in that clearing out back. She usually helps guard the Logging Camp. Her name is Shuang'er. For the next fortnight, you two will follow them and get familiar with the area around the camp. Each time you go into the mountains, you're only allowed to collect five rounds from me. If you fire, you have to bring the spent casings back for inspection. Lose even one, and I'll deduct work points."
Once he had explained everything, the platoon leader assigned them to the two villagers.
After everyone had made breakfast, drunk a bowl of corn-grit porridge, and eaten two cornmeal buns, Zhao Xiaozhi left with the girl. Lian Youming slung the battered rifle over his back and followed the old man in another direction.
"Uncle Xie, are there really dangerous beasts in these mountains?"
Lian Youming followed behind the old man, constantly looking this way and that.
The old man was called Third Brother Xie. Small and thin though he was, he moved with remarkable agility and had astonishingly keen eyes. In this short time alone, he had already shot two pheasants and three wild rabbits, all of them fattened up for autumn.
Without looking back, Third Brother Xie said, "That's no story to scare you. Once winter comes, the beasts in these mountains get active. Someone standing right before your eyes one moment might vanish the next. By the time you find them, wild beasts have already torn out their heart and liver."
Following behind to collect the game and help out, Lian Youming asked, "Say, Uncle Xie, I saw a clearing behind the dining hall. Do you know anything about the man living there?"
Third Brother Xie first shook his head, but what he said next startled Lian Youming. "He's been there since I was old enough to remember. Everyone used to call him the Mountain-Guarding Old Man. A few years ago, the Party secretary saw how alone he was, so he gave the old man a name and registered him under Shuang'er's family household. But he refused to come down the mountain no matter what and stayed at the Logging Camp. In the end, Shuang'er moved up here, too."
Lian Youming asked in surprise, "Uncle Xie, you must be fifty or sixty, right?"
Third Brother Xie replied, "Sixty-eight."
Lian Youming stared in astonishment. "Then the man behind the dining hall must be eighty or ninety."
Third Brother Xie said mysteriously, "Older than that. He already looked thirty or forty back then. If you ask me, he must be over a hundred by now."
Lian Youming swallowed hard. "Haven't any of you looked into his background?"
Third Brother Xie gave him a meaningful look. "He lives alone in these deep mountain forests without coming to harm. Do you think that's ordinary? Years ago, Shuang'er's father was killed by a Siberian tiger while out in the mountains. Less than a fortnight later, that tiger was found in a stream gully. Guess how it died?"
Without waiting for Lian Youming to answer, the old man said hoarsely, "Someone killed it with a slap. They say there was still a palm print on its forehead."
At those words, Lian Youming felt a chill run through him, and gooseflesh rose on his skin.
Third Brother Xie continued, "Have you ever heard a certain saying?"
Lian Youming raised his eyes to him.
With deep feeling, the old man said, "People all say there are no true Buddhas in this world. But even with a true Buddha standing before them, how could ordinary mortal eyes recognize one? In those places ordinary people cannot see lies another realm of this world... And where there is such a realm, there are true Buddhas."
For some reason, meeting the old man's gaze and hearing those cryptic words, Lian Youming found himself saying, "Martial arts!"
Martial arts were the key to entering that realm.
Third Brother Xie wore the hint of a smile, as though he had experienced something himself. Then, with a complicated expression, he said, "Easier said than done."
After that, neither spoke. Seemingly occupied with their own thoughts, they roamed the mountains until three or four in the afternoon.
By then, the sun had come out and the snow was melting. Though a trace of green remained in the vast mountain forests, it could not conceal their fading desolation.
The two had made a good haul. Even Lian Youming had taken plenty of game, though not with his rifle. He had used his Slingshot, hitting nine shots out of ten and earning repeated praise from Third Brother Xie.
Just like that, more than half a month passed, and late autumn arrived.
Life in the Logging Camp was monotonous, dull, and hard. As the weather grew increasingly bitter, even without more snow, frost formed and icicles hung every morning and evening.
Unlike the educated youths who settled in rural villages, they were nominally members of the corps sent to support the frontier. But the educated youth movement was nearing its end, so there was little chance of actually joining a corps now. Even so, they remained under Platoon Leader Yang's semimilitary management.
Presumably, Platoon Leader Yang also knew that the movement would soon come to a complete end. As the weather turned colder, his management of the group became noticeably more relaxed. He certainly did not stint on food, either. Every few days, they steamed large white buns and cooked big pots of stew. With meat brought back by the hunters, the meals were quite good.
Work points, however, remained unchanged.
As the cold deepened, many people simply could not bear it. They either holed up in their dormitories, unwilling to move, or crowded into Lian Youming's dormitory after work, huddling together on a single heated bed and waiting eagerly.
Waiting for what?
For Liu Dabiao to perform Tianjin clapper storytelling.
Yu Wen and Yu Wu, the two ringleaders from Four-Nine City, chimed in and set the rhythm beside him, making a tremendous racket.
When they had free time, the other educated youths could show off their talents as well, offering everyone a little comfort and nourishment for the spirit.
Things were much the same among the women. Before winter had even fully arrived, some already had chilblains on their hands and feet. Bloody scabs stuck to their socks so badly that they could not pull them off, and the pain brought them to tears every day.
Although the Logging Camp had a barefoot doctor, most of the treatments were folk remedies that did no good at all.
Lian Youming's work was relatively simple. With the weather cold, he went into the mountains in the morning, then spent midday either chopping firewood and carrying water or hauling logs with the others.
They had to send out the felled timber before the next snowfall.
There was no need to load it onto vehicles. They only had to drag the felled logs with wire ropes to the southwest corner of the Logging Camp. There was a steep slope there, and once released, the logs would roll down to the foot of the mountain, where villagers would collect them.
Apart from that, after work, while the dormitory was noisy, Lian Youming would find a secluded spot alone to study the martial arts on the Silk Brocade, especially the Golden Bell Cover. Whenever he had time, he would imitate the postures shown on it.
After studying it for a while, he discovered that this Golden Bell Cover had nothing whatsoever to do with the Shaolin Temple, nor did it involve the mysterious inner power found in martial arts stories. Instead, it was founded on the body's twelve principal meridians. Opening each one through practice was equivalent to breaking through a barrier.
Still, Lian Youming found many passages too obscure and did not dare interpret them recklessly. He merely followed the paths of the muscles and sinews shown in the figures, secretly trying in his spare moments to engage and move them with his mind.
Unexpectedly, without his noticing, his appetite increased greatly, and stiff muscles and sinews throughout his body slowly began to loosen.
There was something else, too. Whether it was his imagination or not, Lian Youming always felt that the Mountain-Guarding Old Man kept appearing and disappearing like a ghost, as though secretly observing him.
But as time passed without the old man doing anything unusual, Lian Youming could no longer be bothered to pay him any mind. A few looks would not cost him a piece of flesh.
And so, though his days were uneventful, they were at least full.
Before he knew it, the end of October had arrived.
Lian Youming had also thought he would finish his time in the mountains amid this full and hardworking daily routine. If he remembered correctly, the movement would end completely in the autumn of 1980, and they would be able to return to the city.
But on the last day of October, something unexpected happened at the Logging Camp...
(End of chapter)
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