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Ignoring Sun Five, Grandma walked up to a long-faced girl leaning against the wall, who smiled weakly, then fell to her knees, wrapped her arms tightly around Grandma’s waist, and began to cry hysterically. ‘Lingzi,’ Grandma consoled her, touching her face, ‘be a good girl. Don’t be afraid.’

The prettiest girl in the village, Lingzi was seventeen at the time. When Commander Yu was recruiting troops, he assembled fifty or so men, one of whom was a gaunt young man with a pale face and long black hair, dressed in black except for a pair of white shoes. Lingzi was rumoured to be in love with him. He spoke with a beautiful Beijing dialect, and never smiled; his brow was forever creased in a frown, with three vertical furrows above his nose. Everyone called him Adjutant Ren. Lingzi felt that beneath Adjutant Ren’s cold, hard exterior raged a fire, and it put her on edge.

Yu Zhan’ao’s troops drilled each morning on the square where we bought our sorghum. As soon as Liu Sishan, Commander Yu’s bugler, sounded reveille, Lingzi dashed out of the house and ran to the parade ground to lie on the wall and await the arrival of Adjutant Ren, his wide leather belt and Browning pistol.

Adjutant Ren strode up to the troops, his chest thrown out proudly, and called them to attention. Two columns of soldiers clicked their heels snappily.

Adjutant Ren commanded, ‘Atten-hut! Legs straight, stomachs in, chests out, eyes forward, like panthers about to pounce.

‘What the hell kind of way is that to stand?’ He kicked Wang Wenyi. ‘Your legs are spread like a mule taking a piss. I’d beat some discipline into you if I could.’

Lingzi liked seeing Adjutant Ren beat up on people and liked the way he chewed them out. His autocratic demeanour thoroughly intoxicated her. His favourite leisure activity was strolling around the parade ground with his hands clasped behind his back. Lingzi would hide behind the wall and drink in the sight.

‘What’s your name?’ Adjutant Ren asked.

‘Lingzi.’

‘Who were you watching from back there?’

‘You.’

‘Do you know how to read?’

‘No.’

‘Want to join the army?’

‘No.’

‘I see.’

Regretting her response, Lingzi told my father that the next time Adjutant Ren asked her if she wanted to join the army she’d say yes. But he never asked her again.

Lingzi and my father were sprawled atop the wall watching Adjutant Ren teach the men revolutionary songs. Father was so short at the time that he had to stand on a pile of rocks to see what was happening on the other side of the wall, while Lingzi rested her pretty chin on the wall and stared at Adjutant Ren, drenched in morning sunlight, as he taught them a song: ‘The sorghum is red, the sorghum is red, the Japs are coming, the Japs are coming. The nation is lost, our families scattered. Rise up, countrymen, take up arms to drive out the Japs and protect your homes…’

The men, with tin ears and stiff tongues, never did learn how to sing it right, but the kids on the other side of the wall soon had it down pat. My father never forgot this song as long as he lived.

Lingzi screwed up her courage one day and went to find Adjutant Ren, but accidentally stumbled into the room of the quartermaster, Big Tooth Yu, a hard-drinking, insatiably lecherous forty-year-old uncle of Commander Yu. He was pretty drunk that day, and when Lingzi burst into his room, it was like a moth drawn to a fire, or a lamb entering a tiger’s den.

Adjutant Ren ordered two soldiers to tie up the man who had deflowered the girl Lingzi. At the time, Commander Yu was staying at our house, and when Adjutant Ren came to make his report, he was asleep on Grandma’s kang. She had already washed up and brushed her hair, and was about to fry some willowfish to go with the wine when the fuming Adjutant Ren burst into the room, frightening the wits out of her.

‘Where’s the commander?’ Adjutant Ren asked her.

‘He’s on the kang, asleep.’

‘Wake him up.’

Grandma woke Commander Yu, who walked out of the bedroom, stretched, yawned, and asked. ‘What is it?’

‘Commander, if a Japanese raped my sister, should he be shot?’

‘Of course!’ Commander Yu replied.

‘If a Chinese raped my sister, should he be shot?’

‘Of course!’

‘That’s just what I wanted to hear,’ Adjutant Ren said. ‘Big Tooth Yu deflowered the local girl Cao Lingzi, and I’ve ordered the men to tie him up.’

‘Are you sure he did it?’

‘When will he be shot, Commander?’

Commander Yu sucked in his breath. ‘Since when is sleeping with a woman a serious offence?’

‘Commander, no one’s above the law, not even a prince.’

‘And what do you think the punishment should be?’ Commander Yu asked sombrely.

‘A firing squad!’ Adjutant Ren replied without hesitation.

Commander Yu sucked in his breath again and began to pace impatiently, anger building up inside him. Finally, he smiled and said, ‘Adjutant Ren, what do you say we give him fifty lashes in front of the men and compensate Lingzi’s family with twenty silver dollars?’

‘Because he’s your uncle?’ Adjutant Ren asked caustically.

‘Eighty lashes, then, and force him to marry Lingzi. I’ll even call her Auntie!’

Adjutant Ren undid his belt and tossed it, along with the Browning pistol, to Commander Yu. Holding his hands in a salute in front of him, he said, ‘This will make it easier for both of us.’ He turned and walked out into the yard.

Commander Yu, pistol in hand, stared at Adjutant Ren’s retreating back and growled through clenched teeth, ‘Go on, get the fuck out of here! No damned schoolboy is going to tell me what to do! In the ten years I ate fistcakes, nobody was that insolent to me.’

‘Zhan’ao,’ Grandma said, ‘you can’t let Adjutant Ren go. Soldiers are easy to recruit, but generals are worth their weight in gold.’

‘Women don’t understand these things!’ Commander Yu said in frustration.

‘I always thought you were tough, not spineless!’

Commander Yu aimed the pistol at her. ‘Have you lived long enough?’ he snarled.

She tore open her shirt, exposing two tender mounds of flesh, and challenged him. ‘Go ahead, shoot!’

With a shout of ‘Mom!’ Father rushed in and buried his head between her breasts.

As he looked at Father’s neat, round head and Grandma’s beautiful face, a torrent of memories flooded Granddad’s mind. With a sigh, he lowered the pistol. ‘Button up,’ he said as he walked outside. Riding crop in hand, he untied his sleek brown colt and rode bareback to the parade ground.

When the troops relaxing on the wall saw Commander Yu ride up, they jumped to attention and held their breath.

Big Tooth Yu, his arms bound behind him, was tied to a tree.

Commander Yu dismounted and walked up to him. ‘Did you really do it?’

‘Zhan’ao,’ he said, ‘untie me. I’ll leave.’

The soldiers stared wide-eyed at Commander Yu.

‘Uncle,’ he said, ‘I’m going to have you shot.’

‘You bastard!’ Big Tooth Yu bellowed. ‘You’d shoot your own uncle? Have you forgotten what I did for you? After your father died, I took care of you and your mother. If not for me, you’d have been dogfood long ago!’

Commander Yu smacked him across the face with his riding crop. ‘You no-good bastard!’ he railed before falling to his knees and saying, ‘Uncle, I, Yu Zhan’ao, will never forget your kindness in bringing me up. I will wear mourning clothes after your death and will memorialise you and tend your grave on all the holidays.’

With that he jumped to his feet, mounted his horse, whipped it on the flank, and galloped off in the direction Adjutant Ren had taken. The horses’s hooves shook the earth.

Father was there when they shot Big Tooth Yu. Mute and two other soldiers dragged him to the western edge of the village, choosing as the execution ground a spot beside a crescent-shaped inlet in a stream of black, stagnant, insect-laden water. A solitary willow tree, its leaves yellowed and dying, stood on the bank. The stillness of the bend was broken only by hopping toads; alongside a pile of damp hair clippings lay a single tattered woman’s slipper.