Momentarily confused, Granddad quickly realised what was happening. ‘Damn!’ he said, slapping his thigh. ‘We’re wasting our time with this!’
His two young accomplices asked stupidly, ‘Where are they going?’
Without stopping to answer, Granddad fired at the retreating horsemen; but they were out of range, and his bullets disappeared into the dust.
Little Yan led his men to our village in Northeast Gaomi Township and straight to our house. He had a speedy horse and he knew the way. Meanwhile, Granddad was running as fast as his legs would carry him. Nine Dreams Cao’s son, used to a life of ease and luxury, managed only a li or so before he collapsed. ‘Finish him off and be done with it,’ one of the younger bandits suggested. ‘He’s too much trouble.’
‘Little Yan’s going after my son,’ Granddad said, as he picked up Young Master Cao, hoisted him over his shoulder, and took off at a trot. When the younger bandits urged him to speed up, he said, ‘We’re already too late, so there’s no need to go any faster. Everything will be all right as long as this little bastard stays alive.’
Back in the village, Little Yan and his men burst into the house, grabbed Grandma and Father, and tied them onto a horse.
‘You blind dog!’ Grandma railed. ‘I’m Magistrate Cao’s foster-daughter!’
With a sinister smile, Little Yan said, ‘His foster-daughter is precisely who he told us to nab.’
Little Yan and his horsemen met up with Granddad on the road. Hostages on both sides had guns at their heads as they passed so close they could have reached out and touched each other; but no one dared make a move.
Granddad looked up at Father, who was held tightly in Little Yan’s arms, and at Grandma, whose hands were tied behind her back. ‘Zhan’ao,’ she said to Granddad, who had a dejected look on his face, ‘let my foster-dad’s son go, so they’ll set us free.’
Granddad squeezed the boy’s hand tightly. He knew he’d have to let him go sooner or later, but not just now.
When it was time to exchange the hostages at the wooden bridge over the Black Water River, Granddad mobilised nearly all the bandits in Northeast Gaomi Township, over 230 of them. Their weapons loaded and ready, they lay or sat around the northern bridgehead.
At midmorning, the magistrate’s soldiers arrived, winding their way down from the southern dike of the river. Four of them carried a sedan chair that rocked above them. When they reached the southern bridgehead, Nine Dreams Cao greeted Granddad. With a smile on his face he said, ‘Zhan’ao, how could the husband of my foster-daughter kidnap his own nephew? If you needed money, all you had to do was ask for it.’
‘It’s not the money. I haven’t forgotten those three hundred lashes with the shoe sole!’
Rubbing his hands together and laughing, Nine Dreams Cao said, ‘It was a mistake, all a mistake! But if it hadn’t been for that beating we’d never have met. Worthy son-in-law, you achieved real glory by eliminating Spotted Neck, and I will make that known to my superiors, who will in turn reward you for your deed.’
‘Who cares about being rewarded by you for my deeds?’ Granddad said rudely. His words belied the fact that his heart was softening.
Little Yan pulled back the curtain of the sedan chair, and Grandma slowly emerged with Father in her arms.
She started to walk out onto the bridge, but was stopped by Little Yan. ‘Old Yu,’ he said, ‘bring Young Master Cao out onto the bridge. We’ll release them on command.’
‘Now!’ Little Yan called out when both sides were ready.
With a shout of ‘Dad!’ Little Master Cao ran towards the southern bridgehead, while Grandma walked with Father at a dignified pace to the northern side.
Granddad’s men aimed their short rifles; the government soldiers aimed long ones.
Grandma and the Cao boy met in the middle of the bridge, where she bent over to say something to him. But, with a loud wail, he skirted her and ran like the wind to the southern bridgehead.
This incident witnessed the end of the golden days of banditry in Northeast Gaomi Township.
In the third month of 1926, Great-Grandma passed away. With Father in her arms, Grandma rode one of our black mules back to her childhood home to make funeral arrangements, planning to be gone only three days and never imagining that heaven would interfere to make that impossible. On the day after her departure, the skies opened up and released a torrential rain so dense that even the wind couldn’t penetrate it. Since Granddad and his men could no longer stay in the greenwoods, they returned to their homes, for in such weather even swallows hole up in their nests to twitter dreamily. Government soldiers were kept from going out, but they really weren’t needed anyway, since the truce between Nine Dreams Cao and Granddad was still holding. The bandits returned to their homes, stuck their weapons under their pillows, and slept the days away.
Granddad was surprised to learn from Passion that Grandma had braved the violent rainstorm to return to her parents’ home to arrange for her mother’s funeral. In her loathing for her parents, Grandma had refused to have anything to do with them for years. But as they say, ‘Strong winds eventually cease, unhappy families return to peace.’
The rain sluiced down from the eaves like waterfalls. The murky water rose waist-high, saturating the soil and eroding the bases of walls. Rain-weary, Granddad fell into a state of numbness: drinking and sleeping, sleeping and drinking, until the distinction between day and night blurred, and chaos reigned. More restless than he had ever felt in his life, he scratched the curly black hair on his chest and thighs, but the more he scratched the more they itched. The kang exuded a woman’s acrid, salty smell. He threw a wine bowl onto the kang. It shattered. A little rat with a gaping mouth jumped out of the cabinet, gave him a mocking look, and leaped up onto the window ledge, where it stood on its hind legs and cleaned its mouth with its front claws. Granddad picked up his pistol and fired, blowing the rat out of the window.
Passion ran into the room, her dark hair a mess; seeing Granddad on the kang with his arms wrapped around his knees, she bent over wordlessly, picked up the shards of the wine bowl, and turned to leave.
A hot flash surged into Granddad’s throat. ‘You… stop there…’ he said with difficulty.
Passion bit her thick lower lip. Her sweet smile suffused the gloomy room with a ball of golden light. The beating of raindrops beyond the window seemed suddenly blocked by a wall of green. Granddad looked at Passion’s mussed hair, her delicate little ears, and the arch of her breasts. ‘You’ve grown up,’ he said.
Her mouth twitched, and two cunning little wrinkles appeared in the corners.
‘What were you doing?’
‘Sleeping!’ She yawned. ‘I hate this weather. How long is it going to rain? The bottom must have fallen out of the Milky Way.’
‘Douguan and his mom must be stuck there. Didn’t she say she’d return in three days? The old lady must have rotted by now!’
‘Is there anything else?’ Passion asked him.
He lowered his head and, after a pensive moment, said, ‘No, that’s all.’
Passion bit her lip again, smiled, and walked out, wiggling her hips.
Darkness returned to the room, and the grey curtain of rain beyond the window was thicker and heavier than ever.
Passion walked back in and leaned up against the door frame, watching Granddad through misty eyes. He felt the soles of his feet and the palms of his hands began to sweat.
‘What do you want?’
She smiled demurely. The room was once again filled with golden light.
‘Do you feel like drinking?’ Passion asked him.
‘Will you join me?’
‘All right.’
She brought in a decanter of wine and sliced some salted eggs.
Outside, the rain beat like thunder, and a chilling air seeped in through the window, causing Granddad’s nearly naked body to shudder.