Bianjin screeched. ‘Where is everybody? Is everybody dead? Where are the revolutionary masses?’ By then he was nearly crying, so I grabbed him by the collar, and he went limp. I thought he’d given up, and was about to let him go, when two people emerged from behind the warehouse. Seeing that his rescue was at hand, he shouted, ‘Grab the counter-revolutionary! You’ll be rewarded for your efforts.’
It was a young couple who’d been up to something behind the warehouse. He heeded the call, she vanished. In his twenties, he had bushy eyebrows and large eyes, neatly combed hair, and was wearing a tunic with three pens in his breast pocket. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t recall his name. But he obviously knew who we were. He looked down at the memorial stone, then up at the two of us and smiled. With an enigmatic expression, he said, ‘So, it’s you two. What are you doing, fighting over this stone? One’s fighting over Deng Shaoxiang’s son, the other over her grandson. Well, you can stop fighting, since you’re both out of the running. The latest news is that a school headteacher in Wufu is her son, but that’s not true either. You’re all fakes! I’ll tell you what my research has turned up, but it can’t be made public. Here’s what happened. Deng Shaoxiang was married, but didn’t get along with her husband and had no children. The boy in that basket wasn’t her child. She’d borrowed a baby as a cover for her mission.’
The young woman suddenly appeared by the side of the road, and since the young official’s mind was still on her, after disclosing his news, he took off after her. Then it dawned on me that he was a college student newly assigned to the General Affairs Building, specializing in revolutionary history. His astonishing news dumbfounded both Bianjin and me, but I quickly gathered my senses and shouted at his back, ‘Bullshit!’
Bianjin, who was also watching him, gnashed his teeth and shouted, ‘You’re spreading false rumours!’
Rare though it was for Bianjin and me to see eye to eye, it wasn’t enough to turn a pair of enemies into friends. We both held our ground, one crouching, the other kneeling, eyeing one another suspiciously, and we were soon at it again, fighting over the memorial stone and the rope. ‘Stop trying to take this away from me, idiot. Didn’t you hear what he said? Deng Shaoxiang didn’t have a son, which means my dad has no claim, and neither do you. It’s time to stop daydreaming. You’ve got no right to block my way, and if you keep it up, I’m going to get rough with you.’
‘I don’t care about that other stuff, but I’ve vowed to protect the memorial stone with my life, and that’s what I’ll do, even if I lose my head in the process. You want to get rough with me, well let’s see what you’re made of. Kill me, and you can take the stone, how’s that? But if you can’t do it, then turn yourself in at the police station.’
‘Don’t push me, idiot,’ I said. ‘I could do that if I wanted, but there’s no glory in killing an idiot.’
He responded by kicking me and running off. Glaring defiantly, he yelled, ‘Come on, hit me! Think I care? Beat me, beat me to death. I don’t care if I lose my head. They’ll shoot you, and the glory will be mine. I’ll be a martyr.’
I turned to look at the embankment, where the water shimmered in the darkness. But I couldn’t see our barge, and I was reminded that I’d left Father tied up on my cot, waiting wide-eyed for my return. But instead of returning with what I’d promised, I was hung up with an idiot on the shore, which enraged me. Raising my fist in the air, the wind brushed against it like kindling lighting a burning torch. Beat him, beat him to death, he’s an idiot, hit him all you want, stop wasting your time. The mysterious and sinister sound came on the wind, and made me lose my senses. I knew it was wrong to hit someone in the face, that when other people fought, they always punched in places that were hard to see. But I made up my mind to hit him in the face. I grabbed his collar and jerked his head back. He had a flat face with a protruding nose, and that’s where I aimed. He turned his face, I jerked my hand back, took aim and swung. His nose seemed to explode, sending snot and blood flying. I turned my head, afraid to look. ‘Idiot,’ I said in spite of myself, ‘your nose is bleeding. Now are you going to get out of my way or not?’
He had such a solemn look I doubt he even felt the pain. With a look of stern righteousness, he said, ‘No. A bloody nose doesn’t bother me. I’m not afraid to lose my head over this. Go ahead, hit me again, beat me into martyrdom. Then they’ll shoot you, a life for a life, and I’m the winner.’
The sight of Bianjin standing there with blood flowing from his nose nearly had me in tears. The wind returned to my fist, and I heard the sinister voice again. Hit him, go ahead. He’s an orphan, after all, no parents and no friends, kill him and no one will care. It was a strange, evil voice, forcing me on, making me feel like crying. My fist danced around Bianjin’s face, which was like a child’s face — dirty, gaunt and innocent. He wore the bleak but inexplicably pure expression common to orphans. My fist stopped before it smashed into his cheekbone. ‘Oh, to hell with it!’ I said. ‘You’re a pitiful creature, and I can’t keep hitting you. If I killed you, no one would even claim your body.’
‘You’re done, but I’m not,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘We’ll settle up later. This debt will be paid.’
His threat rekindled the flames and stoked a nameless fire that had smouldered in my heart for eleven years. Hatred and loathing, old and new, came together in fists that were infused with the power of savage vengeance. ‘We’ll settle up later. This debt will be paid!’ I roared as my fists rained down on his face. ‘This debt will be paid! You people on the shore owe a debt to my father and to me. Yes, it will be paid — paid by you. That’s how it will be paid!’
The next thing I heard were Bianjin’s shrieks, ‘My eyes! You hit me in the eyes!’ He was in such a state he’d begun to stammer slightly. ‘Don’t … don’t hit me in the eyes, don’t do that. Hit me anywhere but my eyes. Kill me, but not my eyes. I can’t tend my geese if I’m blind. What’ll happen to my geese and my ducks?’
He was covering his eyes with his hands, and I saw trickles of blood seep through his fingers, which snapped me back to my senses. I unclenched my fists and looked closely at Bianjin, whose aching head hung low. Now, finally, he jumped down off the stone and, still covering his eyes, began to cry.
In the dim light of the streetlamps I saw someone running towards us with a club. ‘Who’s fighting out there? Fighting around the piers is not allowed.’ It was the security guard, late as always. The light glinted off his head; it could only be Baldy Chen, who was a stickler for enforcing the law. Without a word, he put his truncheon to use, hitting me on the shoulder and Bianjin on the arm. Bianjin dropped his hands and grabbed his own arm with one of them. He wailed like an abused child. ‘You hit me! Why did you hit me? You’re in charge of security. Can’t you tell friend from foe?’
Baldy gasped when he saw Bianjin’s bloody face. ‘Did you do this to him, Ku Dongliang? You’re too damned wild for your own good. Other people bully you, so you bully the idiot, is that it?’ He crouched down to look at Bianjin’s injuries. ‘Look what you’ve done to his nose,’ he said. ‘This spells big trouble for you, Kongpi. What if it’s broken?’
‘He had it coming,’ I said. ‘I’ll make amends if it’s broken.’
Then Bianjin showed Baldy Chen his eyes. ‘I can’t see,’ he sobbed. ‘He blinded me.’
Baldy lifted the man’s chin with his truncheon to get a closer look at his eyes. Again he gasped. ‘Kongpi, you’ve really done it this time. You’re worse than the Fascists. How could you do that? What if he really is blind?’