Chapter 72
As the roar of gunfire from the front rolled across the sky like muffled thunder, the ridges of the fields behind were filled with the stench of freshly turned earth. The educated youth gripped their polished hoes, their trouser legs stained with brown mud. Sweat beads from their foreheads hit the cracked earth, instantly leaving dark spots. No one spoke, only the dull thud of hoes hitting stone and the distant, off-key humming of an unknown military song.
Outside the military camp's training grounds, peasant women in patched cloth shoes passed by, carrying baskets of steaming steamed cornbread. From a distance, they would wave at the soldiers training, shouting, "Be careful not to fall," their voices hoarse from the smoke of firewood. The soldiers marched relentlessly, a tired but genuine smile playing on their lips before straightening their backs. The ground shook with the sound of their footsteps.
Xiao Li walked along the dirt road between the ridge of a field and the training ground. He saw Old Zhang, a member of the kitchen staff, squatting behind the stove, smoking a pipe. He tapped the pipe against the sole of his shoe and used the spark to light his second cigarette. "We added a handful of cornmeal to the steamed bread sent to the front this morning," Old Zhang squinted, blowing smoke rings. "The children, keeping them warm, will have more energy for the battle." As the smoke rings dispersed, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were filled with an indescribable mixture of heartache, anticipation, and a hint of unconcealed pride. These children had inherited the revolutionary weapons from these old men, and were also taking on the battles that our generation hadn't finished. Back then, we could charge forward even by gnawing on tree bark. Now, we were adding a handful of cornmeal to the mix. We couldn't let them lose their confidence in our hands.
The stone mill beside the pigpen was still turning. Uncle Wang, the stockman, pushed it with his bare chest, beads of sweat streaking down his bronzed back. "Did you hear the Russians captured some more canned food at the front?" he called out to a passing signalman. The sound of the millstones grinding over the stones betrayed a persistent concern for the distant war. The signalman ran back, "Uncle Wang, I'll save two cans for you after we win!" As he finished speaking, they both laughed, a laugh tinged with dust, yet more genuine than any grandiose words.
At dusk, after work, the educated youth sat on the edge of the fields, munching on steamed cornbread. Some took out their warped notebooks to write letters home. Amid the rustling of their pens, one could hear whispers of "Mom, I'll have enough to eat here" and "Don't worry about my sister's tuition." The setting sun stretched their shadows long, and exhaustion washed over them like a tide, but no one slumped. Some recounted heroic stories from the front to their companions, some drew images of their hometown on the ground with sticks, and still others gazed at the sunset, their eyes sparkling.
Xiao Li stood on the slope, watching all this unfold, and suddenly understood what this "feeling of being alive" meant. It was the salt frost on sweat-soaked military uniforms, the aroma of wheat wafting from the opening of steamed cornbread, and the eyes that, even when exhausted, could still light up at a joke or a word of encouragement. They weren't cold, impersonal words in books, nor were they vague portraits from history. They were living, breathing people who felt pain, tiredness, laughter, and hope.
Just like now, the western sky burned a brilliant red, casting a warm glow on everyone's face. In the distance, the laughter of children chasing the sunset mingled with the sound of military bugles drifting from the barracks, brewing a sense of endless vitality on this weathered land.
But just as Xiao Li was lamenting the simplicity of modern people, a blushing girl came wandering down the slope, twisting the corners of her clothes with her hands, her steps slower than those of an old woman with bound feet. Xiao Li recognized her at a glance—Qian Fangyan, the unavoidable heroine in that novel.
"Hello, Commander." Her voice was as thin as a mosquito's hum, but the corner of her eyes secretly glanced at Xiao Li, "I'm Xiao Ming's boyfriend, and I want to send him something. But recently, the military camp..." She got stuck in the middle of the sentence, looking at Xiao Li with a pair of watery eyes, her eyelashes fluttering, as if filled with affection, "Commander, can you help send it to Xiao Ming? I'm really troublesome to you."
Xiao Li studied her silently. Her coarse cloth jacket was tailored to a slim fit, with an inappropriate pink flower sewn on the cuff. Her hair was meticulously combed, even the loose strands at her temples were neatly tucked away. She was indeed handsome, but the shrewdness in her eyebrows and eyes, and the vicissitudes of life deep in her eyes that didn't belong to her age, were like a layer of cheap rouge, unable to conceal the materialism beneath. No matter how much someone who has experienced life pretends to be innocent, they can never imitate the clarity of an eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl.
He looked up into the distance, where the setting sun stretched the shadows of toiling figures into long lines. Educated youth carrying hoes supported each other as they walked back. Soldiers on the training ground were still completing their final sprints. A long plume of smoke rose from the chimney of the kitchen. "Life these days hasn't been easy," he said, gesturing at the figures, his voice as flat as if he were discussing the weather. "Living in the present and cherishing it is what matters."
Qian Fangyan followed his finger, but all she saw was untold hardship—tanned backs, worn straw sandals, sweat-soaked uniforms. She saw these as sufferings to be trampled underfoot, not even a hint of cherishment. What she desired was the grand gates of the general's mansion, the pomp and circumstance of being surrounded by a constant stream of people, the title of general's wife, envied by others.
She didn't listen to Xiao Li at all. Instead, she held the basket forward. The floral fabric on the edge of the basket brushed against Xiao Li's cuffs. Her voice was so soft that it could drip water: "Sorry to bother you, Commander. I promised Xiao Ming that I would not be afraid of hardship or fatigue and would be a qualified military wife."
Xiao Li sneered inwardly. As expected, rebirth couldn't change one's inherent stupidity; instead, it seemed to fuel one's obsession, burning it to a tizzy. He took the small cloth bag. It felt light in his hand, but through the cloth he could feel the hard shapes inside, figuring they were a few pieces of candy he couldn't bear to eat. Without another word, he turned and walked down the slope, his military boots making a dull sound as they trod on the gravel.
Qian Fangyan stared at his back, unable to help but grumble inwardly. This young commander was truly handsome, his features as handsome as if he had stepped out of a painting. Compared to Xiao Ming's square, square face, he was more to her liking, someone from the later generations. But then she realized that he must be married at his age, so she quickly averted her gaze and mentally spat at herself. She had to live a good life with Xiao Ming in this life, striving to become the general's wife, and not repeat the old path of her past life, where anyone could marry her. Even if she was selfish at heart, she still longed for a relationship worth showing off, even if the underlying color of this love was a carefully calculated future.
As Qian Fangyan waited, Xiao Li handed the item to Xiao Ming. Xiao Ming's hand paused as he took the bag, his fingertips feeling the warmth of the coarse cloth. He looked up and met Xiao Li's indifferent gaze, suddenly at a loss for what to do. "T-This is so troublesome..." His voice was a little hoarse, a sign of puberty, and his ears flushed. He took the bag as if he were holding a rare treasure.
The crowd erupted in good-natured laughter. "Oh, Xiao, your sweetheart's thinking of you!" "Open it and see what goodies Qian brought you!" Xiao Ming felt even more embarrassed. He spun around half a circle, clutching the cloth bag. His grin stretched almost to his ears, revealing a mouthful of white teeth. He smirked and saluted Xiao Xiao: "Thank you, Commander! Thank you so much!"
Xiao Li watched the scene unfold before him, his lips curling up imperceptibly. He said nothing more. Young love is like the tender buds of early spring; it can't withstand excessive manipulation; just let it flow. He had a ton of other things to deal with right now, so he didn't have the energy to worry about long-term concerns.
After a day of running around, he'd seen and heard a lot, and the backlog of work wasn't completely cleared until nine o'clock that evening. Xiao Li rubbed his swollen temples as he headed towards the family compound. The evening breeze, with its late spring coolness, blew away some of his fatigue. As he reached the compound gate, he saw Huang Cancan, Dong's wife, hanging out laundry. She greeted him with a smile, "Captain Xiao, are you back? The two kids had dinner at my house and are so sleepy they can't even keep their eyes open. I asked Old Dong to take them back to bed."
"Excuse me, sister-in-law." Xiao Li thanked her and tiptoed through the door. The house was pitch black, only a hint of moonlight filtered through the living room window. He pushed open Xiao Nuo's door first, and in the moonlight, he saw the little girl sprawled out on the bed, a worn-out cloth tiger in her arms. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was as even as a kitten's. Xiao Li leaned over and gently pressed on her forehead. His fingertips touched the delicate skin, and a gentle smile instantly filled his eyes. He tiptoed out.
Just as I turned around and was about to go to Xiao Yuji's room, I saw the door creak open a crack, and a small figure walked out, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
"Dad, you're back." Xiao Yuji's voice still had the soft, sleepy quality of someone just waking up, yet it was crystal clear. This "Dad" sounded natural and intimate, long gone from its initial awkwardness. In his heart, Xiao Li had become a supporter, a father to him, a relative he secretly vowed to protect for the rest of his life.
Xiao Li walked over, placed his warm palm on his furry head and gently stroked it: "Why aren't you asleep yet?"
"I can't sleep." Xiao Yuji leaned closer to him, her small hands tightly clutching the corner of his clothes, her voice lowered, "Mom and uncle have gone to the battlefield. I always wonder if they are cold, if they have food to eat..."
He wasn't like Xiaonuo, a heartless, reckless little bully. Ever since his father and grandmother passed away, the child had seemingly grown up overnight. Though still under ten, his features held a calmness that belied his age. He could often be heard mumbling in his sleep at night, yet he never betrayed a hint of vulnerability in public. His fingers, clutching the hem of Xiaoli's clothes, trembled slightly, betraying the fear he couldn't hide.
Xiao Li slowly crouched down, his knees making a soft sound on the blue brick floor. He and Xiao Yuji were eye-to-eye, and with the moonlight filtering through the window, he could clearly see the tears welling in the child's eyes. His broad hands gently wrapped around the thin shoulders, and as he pulled her into his arms, he could feel the tension in the little one's back slowly relax. He patted Xiao Yuji's back repeatedly, the warmth of his palms seeping through her coarse clothes. His voice was as steady as a rock pressing down on the bottom of a mountain: "They are all the best 'fighters' in their fields. They are good with their guns and steady on their feet. They can definitely take care of themselves."
He pointed out the window. The dark blue sky was dotted with stars that looked like tiny diamonds. "Look how bright the stars are! They're the flashlights they carry with them, lighting the way. They'll definitely make it home safely."
Xiao Li pushed him away slightly and rubbed the tip of the child's nose, which was slightly red from crying, with his thumb. "We have to guard the rear now and wait for them to come back peacefully. You and Xiao Nuo, you must eat well, sleep well, and live your life with extra energy. If you always go to bed late, what will happen if you don't grow tall in the future?"
He deliberately drew out his words, a mischievous smile in his eyes: "By then, that girl Xiaonuo will be taller than you, and she'll be standing with her hands on her hips calling you 'shorty' every day. It'll be so embarrassing for her as a brother."
Xiao Yuji's eyes suddenly widened, his brows knitted into knots. He could already see Xiao Nuo standing on tiptoe and patting him on the head. He shuddered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. That was a nightmare more terrifying than the sound of gunfire on the battlefield! He suddenly loosened his grip on the corner of his clothes and shook his head vigorously: "I don't want to be shorter than her!"
Before he finished speaking, he turned and ran to his room, his slippers making a soft "tapping" sound on the floor. When he reached the door, he turned back and shouted, "Good night, Dad!"
With a soft "bang", the door was carefully closed.
Xiao Li looked at the still-swaying wood grain on the door, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up. Moonlight fell on the smile lines at the corners of his eyes, spreading a soft halo. He whispered to the door, "Good night, sleep well."
The night wind blew in through the window lattice, lifting a corner of his clothes. Xiao Li looked out the window at the starry sky and silently added in his heart:
"Waking up will surely be a peaceful day."
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