(Brain storage area! This story is set in a fictional world, all characters and plot are privately created, please do not reference reality.)
In 1977, winter arrived earlier than usual in Wutong Village.
When the bleak winter wind swept through, the barren fields were quickly covered with a thin layer of frost.
“Brr, this year’s weather is truly cold, and it’s only just the beginning of winter.”
“Indeed, there’s already frost now. This year might be difficult to get through.”
The villagers who had risen early put on their thickest clothes, patched layer upon layer, and gathered under the Banyan Tree at the village entrance to chat idly.
Along the winding village path, a military jeep came bumping along, kicking up clouds of dust.
The villagers urged the small old man surrounded in the center: “Hey, Uncle Village Chief, what do you think that is?”
“Who in our village could have such grandeur? And it’s a military vehicle too. Could it be Mingzi coming back?”
“Hard to say, Mingzi hasn’t been back for two years, right?”
The small old man over fifty, holding a smoking pipe in one hand, squinted his eyes at the approaching jeep.
Even though the vehicle was coated with a thick layer of dust, the rare jeep still maintained its imposing and majestic presence in front of the villagers.
A head wearing a green military cap leaned out from the driver’s seat: “Fellow villagers, could you tell us where Comrade Chen Ziming’s home is? Could you point the way?”
The old village chief hurried forward to fulfill his duty. After a brief exchange, he led both the people and the vehicle toward the end of the village.
The villagers behind them, being perceptive, followed along: “Is it really Mingzi? Such a big military jeep—that boy must have become a high-ranking official!”
“Mingzi has really made something of himself!”
Soon, a large crowd poured into Chen Laoda’s dilapidated small courtyard, chattering noisily, each speaking their own piece.
The old village chief authoritatively silenced the onlookers and only brought the two comrades who had come in the vehicle into the main room.
Inside the room.
“You… what did you say?!” The elderly woman’s voice was hoarse and trembling, completely unable to believe what she had just heard.
“Auntie…” The middle-aged man, stared at by both the old and young women, showed a pained and reluctant expression on his face.
“I’m sorry, I understand how you, as military family members, must feel. But… Comrade Chen Ziming, according to the message passed down from above… he indeed sacrificed his life unfortunately while carrying out a mission.”
“Sacrificed… sacrificed?!” The gray-haired elderly woman’s voice suddenly rose sharply, bursting out from her throat like a cuckoo’s blood-soaked cry, “Mingzi! My son!!”
Before her wail could fully emerge, the old woman trembled all over and collapsed weakly to the ground.
The young girl beside her hurriedly stretched out her skinny arms, desperately supporting the old woman: “Mom! Mom…”
Mother and daughter knelt together on the ground.
The old woman’s face was ashen, her lips bluish, muttering only: “Mingzi… my Mingzi…”
“Mom, don’t scare me, Mom…” The girl supporting the old woman spoke in a broken voice, her face filled with obvious panic and fear.
A girl of only seventeen or eighteen, thin as a twig.
Her hair like dry straw, coupled with clothes layered with patches, set off her dark, sallow, and emaciated face, fitting perfectly the image of most girls from poor families in this era.
The old village chief who had accompanied them, seeing that neither the old nor the young in the room could handle the situation, quickly made a decisive move and leaned out to call for help.
He called out to the villagers in the yard, “Don’t just stand there! A couple of you, come in quickly and take Chen Laoda’s wife to the clinic!”
What a tragedy!
If this drags on any longer, it might cost someone their life.
The young men standing closest in the yard hurried into the main room, bending down to lend a hand.
“Let’s go, everyone, move quickly!”
The crowd noisily departed.
Only then did the village chief pull the middle-aged man aside to speak with him and the young men who had accompanied him.
After a few questions, one thing was finally confirmed.
The only soldier from their Wutong Village had indeed sacrificed his life while on a mission.
The county’s armed forces department had received instructions from higher authorities and had come specifically today to notify and console the family of the martyr, as well as deliver the compensation.
The village chief’s face was extremely grim.
He said to the villagers in the yard in a heavy voice, “Folks, Mingzi was a good child from our village and a fine comrade. Mingzi has unfortunately sacrificed his life at the front. Today, the armed forces department has sent people to deliver the compensation!”
“What?! Mingzi is gone? No wonder Chen Pozi collapsed…”
“Chen Laoda’s family only had this one son. Chen Laoda passed away early, and without a man to support the family in her later years, how will Chen Pozi and Xiao Qiao survive?”
“…”
Not two days later.
Chen Laoer, who had long since separated from his elder brother’s family and lived on his own, heard that the armed forces department had given 100 yuan in compensation for his sacrificed nephew.
That very night, when Chen Pozi was discharged from the hospital, his whole family came and snatched all the compensation money.
Winter was a quiet time, and with the year’s end approaching, the new year always brought a sense of anticipation.
Every household in Wutong Village was filled with joy and celebration.
Only the dilapidated courtyard of Chen Laoda’s family at the village’s edge was silently draped in mourning white.
“Chen Pozi… she hanged herself…”
“Why would she do such a thing! Even if her son is gone, she still has a daughter! Didn’t she raise Liang Qiaoqiao from childhood?”
“Who knows…”
These days, the affairs of the two Chen brothers had become the talk of the village, a topic of conversation after meals and during tea breaks.
Liang Qiaoqiao, one of the subjects of these discussions, was arranging Chen Pozi’s funeral.
The night before she died, Chen Pozi had held Liang Qiaoqiao’s hand and spoken many, many words.
The old woman had given her all her savings of many years and told her to leave this place, to go far away.
But Liang Qiaoqiao had only cried and not agreed.
Her home was here—where could she go?
When she woke the next morning, she found Chen Pozi had hanged herself from the beam.
Clutching the savings in her hand, Liang Qiaoqiao went to the village chief’s house to arrange Chen Pozi’s funeral.
Not long after the great turmoil had ended, its ripples still unsettled, and folk customs for weddings and funerals remained simple.
No rituals were performed, and at night, only Liang Qiaoqiao kept vigil alone.
The villagers who had come to help during the day had all returned home to rest by nightfall.
“You wretched girl, how dare you resist? I’ll beat you to death!” Vicious curses shattered the darkness before dawn.
The faint candlelight in the mourning hall illuminated the open door.
Inside, near the wall, stood several figures as ferocious as demons.
On the ground by the threshold lay a frail girl, collapsed and unconscious.
A stout old woman, her face twisted with malice, was sitting heavily on the thin, prostrate body.
She raised a thick hand high and brought it down hard, slapping “smack, smack” against the face of the unconscious girl on the ground: “I’ll beat you to death, I’ll beat you to death!”
Not far away stood an old man, a middle-aged couple, and a young couple.
These five people clearly belonged to the same group as the old woman.
While coldly observing the old woman’s violent actions toward the emaciated girl on the ground, none of them showed any trace of sympathy on their faces.
Far away, on a street in the distant future of 2035, a slender, tall figure was crossing a crosswalk.
Not far off, a low-slung convertible swerved erratically, spinning out of control.
“Screech—!”
With a loud “Bang!”, the figure on the crosswalk was sent flying in a parabolic arc, soaring high into the air before crashing violently to the ground.
“Ahhh! Someone’s been hit!”
“Hurry, hurry! Call an ambulance!”
“…”
(Disclaimer: This story is not a conventional feel-good novel, and the beginning might be a bit frustrating. Dear readers, don’t be too impatient—haste won’t let you savor tender tofu while it’s still hot.)