Return and Beginning

Volume 4, Chapter 1

The smoke of war in Korea had not yet completely dissipated, but the overall situation was settled. In the spring of 1951, Gu Tieshan, due to his outstanding military achievements and serious injuries (new and old wounds combined) on the Korean battlefield, was ordered to return to China for rest and study.

The train roared across the Yalu River Bridge, and as the mountains and rivers of the motherland came into view once more, a deafening cheer erupted from the carriages. Many soldiers were moved to tears; they had returned alive from the hail of bullets. Gu Tieshan sat by the window, silently watching the fields and villages rushing past outside. His face showed little joy, only a deep weariness and a bewildered sense of returning home.

With his revenge fulfilled, the flames of vengeance that had sustained him for years were suddenly extinguished, leaving behind a vast emotional void and an unfulfilled longing. Lan Jun's revenge was complete, but Tingzhi would never return. Gu Niansheng remained missing. Only Gu Xiuyuan, now a dashing young military officer, was by his side.

Gu Tieshan was assigned to a well-equipped veterans' hospital in Northeast China for rehabilitation treatment. Considering his contributions and health condition, the organization hoped he would transfer to a local position to enjoy his later years. However, Gu Tieshan declined all relatively easy positions, making only one request: "To return to my hometown in Shandong."

He took Gu Xiuyuan back to the land of Qilu, where he was born and raised, yet which also bore too many painful partings. The old house had long since collapsed in the war, leaving only ruins. With the help of the villagers, he built three simple tile-roofed houses on the original site, and in the yard, he personally planted a jujube tree and a locust tree.

He seemed to have reverted to his quiet Shandong self, spending his days tidying the yard, tending his small vegetable garden, and occasionally playing chess with the village elders, still not saying much. Only Gu Xiuyuan knew that his father often sat alone in the yard, facing north (northeast) or unconsciously rubbing his left wrist in a daze. He never showed the dragon scale bracelet in public again, carefully wrapping it in a thick piece of coarse cloth and hiding it close to his body.

"Father, don't worry, I will definitely find my brother." Gu Xiuyuan, who had been promoted to reconnaissance staff officer, knelt in front of his father before returning to his unit after his vacation, solemnly kowtowed three times, and made a vow.

Looking at his eldest son, whose features resembled his deceased wife's but who inherited his own resolute appearance, Gu Tieshan was overwhelmed with emotion. He helped his son up, and all his unspoken words were condensed into a heavy entrustment: "Try your best to find him... but whether you find him or not, you must be well. Your mother... her biggest worry is for you two brothers."

Gu Xiuyuan nodded emphatically. He knew that finding his lost younger brother was not only his father's entrustment and his mother's dying wish, but also a responsibility he, as the elder brother, could not shirk. This promise, like an invisible brand, was etched into his life.

After seeing Xiu Yuan off, Gu Tieshan's life became increasingly simple. He declined the matchmaker's offers and could no longer accept anyone else in his heart. He entrusted all his longing for his wife and children to that cold dragon scale bracelet and the daily wait. He waited for Xiu Yuan's family visit leave, and even more so for that faint news about Nian Sheng.

Meanwhile, the gears of fate were slowly turning on the other end.

In a labor reform farm in a southern province, a young man named Gu Niansheng was working hard in the paddy fields. He was thin and dark-skinned, but the delicate features of his former self were still faintly visible in his brows. His movements carried the coordination and suppleness left by years of practicing opera. He rarely communicated with others, and there was always a trace of melancholy and confusion in his eyes.

He only vaguely remembered a home filled with clanging sounds and a fireplace, a gentle and beautiful mother and a father as silent as a mountain, an older brother who always protected him, a great fire and a chaotic run… Then came a long period of wandering, until he was finally taken in by a passing opera troupe. The troupe leader, surnamed Mei, saw that he had extraordinary talent and was destined to become a martial arts performer, so he took him under his wing and taught him carefully. He inherited his mother's artistic talent and his father's athletic ability, and quickly rose to prominence in the opera world. He also developed feelings for Mei's daughter, with whom he had grown up together.

However, the storm of fate struck again. The Cultural Revolution began. His opera troupe was labeled a "black den for promoting feudalism, capitalism, and revisionism," the troupe leader died unjustly, and he and Miss Mei were labeled "monsters and demons" and sent to a remote southern farm for "labor reform." He always carried with him an object wrapped in oilcloth—a "talisman" his mother had secretly given him as a child, instructing him to keep it safe—a strangely shaped bracelet with dragon scales connected end to end. He didn't know its secret, simply considering it a keepsake left by his mother.

Unbeknownst to him, thousands of miles away in Shandong, his blood-related elder brother had already embarked on a long and arduous journey to find him. Thus began a 20-year-long, arduous search for family that spanned the entire map of China.

Hope and despair intertwine, faith and suffering go hand in hand.

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