The lights of the mountain village flickered in the rain, like a string of water-soaked pearls. Feng Yulan's cloth shoes were already soaked in mud, and they made a squeaking sound with every step.
Zhang Shumin was walking in front, her back looked particularly thin in the rain, but she was still standing straight.
"We're almost there." Zhang Shumin said without turning her head, and there was a softness in her voice that Feng Yulan had never heard before.
After turning the last valley, a dozen scattered adobe houses appeared before our eyes. Beneath the old locust tree at the entrance of the village, a man in a straw raincoat squatted, smoking, the sparks of his cigarette flickering in the darkness.
Seeing the two men approaching, he stood up suddenly and his pipe fell into the mud.
"Shumin...sister?" The man's voice trembled with a strong rural accent.
Zhang Shumin paused. "Jianhua, you still recognize me."
The man named Jianhua stepped forward quickly, the raindrops on his raincoat swishing in arcs. In the dim light, Feng Yulan saw a dark face covered in wrinkles, but his eyes were surprisingly bright.
"It's been thirty-seven years," Jianhua's voice choked with sobs. "I've been waiting at the village entrance every day..."
Zhang Shumin was unusually silent. Raindrops trickled down her hair, forming small puddles at her feet.
Feng Yulan suddenly realized what this seemingly ordinary mountain village meant to her mother-in-law: youth? Love? Or the past that could not be escaped?
"This is my daughter-in-law." Zhang Shumin finally gave a brief introduction, interrupting Jianhua's unfinished words.
Jianhua turned his gaze to Feng Yulan, the light in his eyes dimming a little. "Let's talk inside. The rain is getting heavy."
Jianhua's home was tidier than he'd imagined. A washed-out blue sheet covered the earthen kang (kang), and several bulging sacks were piled in the corner. The kettle on the stove was steaming, adding a touch of warmth to the cold room.
"You two should change your clothes first." Jianhua took out two sets of coarse cloth clothes from the wooden box. "I'll go next door to borrow some ginger."
After he left, Feng Yulan couldn't help asking, "Mom, what is this..."
"A fellow villager from when I was a sent-down youth." Zhang Shumin replied briefly, already unbuttoning her wet clothes. "I'll stay here tonight and continue my journey tomorrow."
Feng Yulan noticed that her mother-in-law had her back to her while changing clothes, her movements somewhat stiff. Below her right shoulder blade, a hideous scar shone white in the kerosene lamp—a scar unlike any she had ever seen before, resembling a knife wound, or perhaps...a bullet wound.
Jianhua returned quickly, carrying not only ginger but also a few eggs and a handful of wild vegetables. He skillfully lit a fire and cooked, and soon, three bowls of steaming ginger and egg soup were placed on the small wooden table.
"Warm yourself up first." Jianhua rubbed his hands, his eyes never leaving Zhang Shumin's face. "Sister Shumin, you've been..."
"Jianhua," Zhang Shumin interrupted him, "has anyone come to the village?"
Jianhua was stunned for a moment. "The day before yesterday, a few people came to collect mountain products. They were dressed quite respectably and asked if there were any outsiders." He lowered his voice and asked, "Are they looking for you?"
Feng Yulan's spoon clattered into the bowl. The man with the gold watch's men had already found their way here!
Zhang Shumin's expression was unusually calm: "How much did they pay for the information?"
"Five hundred." Jianhua smiled bitterly. "That's enough for our village's salt needs for half a year."
"Did anyone betray us?" Feng Yulan couldn't help but ask, her voice trembling.
Jianhua shook his head. "The villagers are honest, but..." He hesitated. "Wang Ergou has been running to town a lot these days."
Zhang Shumin immediately stood up and said, "I can't stay."
"Now?" Feng Yulan looked out the window at the pouring rain. "This weather..."
"It's because of the weather," Zhang Shumin said, already picking up her still-dry coat. "They didn't expect us to walk in the rain."
Jianhua suddenly grabbed Zhang Shumin's wrist and said, "There's a ranger's hut in the back hills, no one knows about it. Let's wait until daybreak..."
He was interrupted by the sudden bang of the gate being flung open. Several dark figures rushed into the yard, their flashlight beams piercing the rain and sweeping across the windows.
"Search! Don't leave any corner unsearched!" It was the voice of the man with the gold watch.
Jianhua's face changed drastically, and he quickly blew out the oil lamp: "Cellar!"
He lifted the kang mat, revealing a hidden wooden door. Feng Yulan was about to slip inside when she heard Zhang Shumin say, "It's too late. Jianhua, hold them back. Yulan, follow me to the back window."
The rear window was small, and Feng Yulan barely squeezed out. When she landed, she stepped on a branch, making a "crackling" sound. A flashlight immediately swept over, and she quickly dove into the muddy water.
"There's movement over there!" a rough male voice shouted.
Zhang Shumin climbed out of the window lightly, grabbed Feng Yulan, and ran toward the path behind the village. Suddenly, the sound of bullets piercing the air rang out, hitting the tree trunks beside them, sending wood chips flying.
"Run separately!" Zhang Shumin pushed Feng Yulan, "Meet at the mountain temple!"
Feng Yulan was about to object when another burst of gunfire rang out. She instinctively dove for the bushes nearby and heard Zhang Shumin running in the opposite direction, deliberately making loud noises to attract pursuers.
The muddy water poured into Feng Yulan's collar, freezing her to the bone. She held her breath as she watched several pairs of military boots run past, splashing mud onto her face.
When the footsteps faded away, she was about to get up when she heard a cry of pain - it was Zhang Shumin's voice!
Feng Yulan didn't bother hiding and stumbled toward the sound. Beneath an old elm tree, Zhang Shumin huddled up, her right hand clutching her left shoulder. Blood gushed from between her fingers, staining her gray cotton jacket dark red.
"Mom!" Feng Yulan rushed over and checked the wound in a panic.
"It's okay... just a scratch..." Zhang Shumin said gritting her teeth, but her face was already pale.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
