Xiāo Rán Wén

  September 14th

  Saturday morning.

  A crisp autumn day with bright sunshine. A gentle breeze blows from the south bank of the Wei River, carrying a hint of coolness, wandering along the western riverside path.

  Outside the wall, the cornfield is ripe, with some withered outer garments wrapped around it, hanging down heavily with golden tassels, waiting for the owner's harvest.

  Inside the wall, in a certain military district's sanatorium 2nd building 2nd unit facing south, in the living room with a garden in front. An old general with white hair and a worn-out face, wearing an old-fashioned general uniform that had faded to yellow, with one star still shining brightly on his shoulder epaulets, which were prominently decorated on his slightly slumped shoulders. He sat in a wheelchair, holding an old, long, rectangular sandalwood box. He looked very tired, his whole body curled up in the wheelchair. Only his two eyes, still sparkling with vitality, made an effort to look out through the window from under his white eyebrows, which were like a curtain of grass.

  Outside the window, near the foot of the wall, a red maple tree is showing off its elegant figure in the sunlight. Occasionally, the wind blows by, swaying the branches and rustling the bright red leaves, which are dancing in the autumn breeze at noon.

  The sunlight, split into countless golden threads by the swaying tree shadows, quivered as it passed through the oscillating branches and happened to project onto the old general's window. The image of the red maple fluttered on the glass from time to time. It was as if someone was sticking close to the transparent glass window, constantly waving at the old general.

  "Wanyu——, Wan——yu. Wan——Wan——yu."

  The last word was uttered with difficulty from his mouth. A bit vague.

  The old general gazed at the red maple tree for a long time, lost in thought. Under the red maple tree, a woman wearing a cheongsam and a flower crown on her head, holding a book, stood there dazedly. The old general suddenly opened his eyes wide, stretched out his hand towards the window outside, where the red maple tree swayed gently, and his lips trembled as he tried to call out something, but after exerting himself for a long time, he still couldn't shout it out.

  The old general opened his mouth again, and from his hoarse throat, he finally spat out those two familiar words: "Wanru..."

  Outside the window, under the red maple tree, the woman in cheongsam suddenly disappeared.

  The old general wanted to shout again, but suddenly stopped. His two eyes stared at the red maple for a long time before turning around.

  He lowered his head to look at the sandalwood box tightly held in his hands, struggling to shake off the faint tremble of his hands, wanting to open the sandalwood box. He was too weak and tried several times without having the strength to open it.

  At this time, the nurse walked over.

  "General, is there anything I can help you with?" The nurse asked respectfully, bowing her head to the old general who was curled up in his wheelchair.

  The old general lifted his head, his eyes rolled upwards, and when he saw that it was the nurse who had been taking care of him all along, he pointed to the wooden box in her arms.

  The nurse followed the old general's finger and saw that he was holding a sandalwood box in his arms. Realizing this, the old general wanted her to help him open the box.

  "Are you going to open the box?" asked the nurse.

  The old general nodded.

  Just as the nurse helped the old general open the wooden box, the old general turned his head and faced the wall beside him. On the wall hung a brown glass frame with a six-inch yellowed black-and-white photo inside. At the top of the photo was written: "Commemoration of National Day Celebration". In the photo, a beautiful young female pioneer team member held a bouquet of flowers and presented them to the general standing on the award stage. The recipient was the old general himself back then.

  The nurse reached out and helped the old general open the wooden box.

  In a wooden box lined with red silk, there is a roll of paper tied up with red thread. The paper has turned slightly yellow and looks well-preserved.

  "Do you need to open this?" The nurse pointed at the bundle of papers in the wooden box and asked curiously.

  The old general stared blankly for a moment, shifting his gaze away from the frame on the wall opposite him. He turned to face the nurse, pointing at the scroll and nodding. This meant that he wanted the nurse to untie the red silk thread.

  The nurse was about to unfold the paper roll when the old general suddenly stretched out his hand and pushed her away, pointing at the door, meaning for her to leave. The nurse looked at the old general in confusion, wanting to say something, but seeing his serious face, she didn't dare say anything. She understood him too well. Even in old age, he was still as stubborn as when he was young, with a strong temper and never compromising.

  The nurse obediently put the paper with the red silk thread untied in her hand into the open wooden box. Silently walked away from the old general's side. Went out of the door.

  Not until the nurse's figure disappeared outside the door did the old general shift his gaze from the nurse to rest on that roll of paper.

  "Wan Ru... Wan... Ru..." The old general murmured the name again, his voice trembling. A line of tears flowed slowly from the dry, wrinkled corners of his eyes. He stretched out his hand and grasped a corner of the scroll, pulling it out of the wooden box. As the scroll was pulled out, a beautiful woman wearing a cheongsam and with her hair styled in a bun slowly emerged from the paper.

  Wanru...

  The old general saw the exposed portrait of the woman, and suddenly became excited. His hands shook as he tried to get up from his wheelchair. He swayed twice but didn't get up. He made another effort to stand up, but suddenly clutched at his chest, panting heavily. Soon after, he wanted to call for a nurse, but couldn't shout out loud, and fell back into the wheelchair with a tilt of his head.

  The old general died, and his memorial service was held three days later at the funeral home. The leaders of the troops and local authorities, his former subordinates, friends, colleagues, as well as his two children Li Yu-ying and Li Yu-ru who rushed back from afar, all attended to hold a grand memorial service for him.

  Local media also reported on it.

  It wasn't until then that people realized the old general who had passed away a few days ago, and had been living in this humble dwelling, was actually Li Huizi - Li Guoting, the notorious bandit from Lianhua Mountain who had once struck fear into the hearts of those in the Qinba Mountains.

  "Who is the woman in this painting? I don't think it's Mother. It must be some other woman. Why did Father secretly keep her portrait?"

  When receiving the legacy left by General Li, his son Li Yuying took out the somewhat yellowed portrait that had been opened by General Li from the ancient sandalwood box and asked his sister Li Yuju, who was squatting on the ground sorting out their father's legacy.

  "Oh, I see." Li Yurou stood up and leaned against her brother Li Yu'ying's side, tilting her head to look at the woman on the screen. "She's really beautiful, wearing a cheongsam and with a golden hairpin on her head. From the looks of it, she doesn't seem like someone from our current era, more like a woman from the old society."

  "I think so too," said Li Yu-ying.

  "Wanru. This woman must be called by this name." Li Yuru said.

  "Oh, how did you know?" Li Yuying asked.

  "Look at this." Li Yuru pointed with her hand towards a line of unclear, small cursive script in the lower right corner of the painting.

  "Oh, let me take a look." Li Yuying spread out the portrait with both hands and examined it carefully.

  The cursive script in the lower right corner, written with a brush pen, seems to have been soaked and blurred by water. Some of the characters have faded. After careful identification, it is not difficult to recognize that there is a poem written on it.

  Cheng's ancestral hall has a branch of flowers. Gentle as an immortal maiden by the lotus platform. The fragrance falls, and the petals drop. It seems to have come from beside Queen Mother.

  "A poem, huh? Not bad. But where's the title? I didn't see it." Li Yuying shook her head and said.

  "Silly, can't you see? This is a hidden-head poem. Look at the first word of each sentence in this poem and read it out loud." Li Yuru said.

  Li Yuying took another close look at the poem on the painting, and according to what her sister Li Yuru said, she connected the first character of each sentence together and read it out: "Cheng Wanru's portrait."

  "Look, isn't it like these few words." Li Yuju raised her eyes and looked at her brother, saying.

  "Hmm, that makes sense. Cheng Wanru. How come Father never mentioned her before? We've also never met this woman." Li Yuying asked suspiciously.

  "Yes, when Father was alive, he never mentioned it. And she doesn't look like our mother either. Did the woman in this painting have some kind of relationship with Father?" Li Yurou thought to herself and said.

  "What relationship? What kind of relationship?" Li Yuying asked.

  "Is it possible that you and Father have that kind of relationship?"

  "Are you saying she and Father have that?" Li Yuying was somewhat surprised.

  Li Yuru nodded.

  "It's impossible." Li Yuying couldn't believe it no matter what. Her father had always loved her mother when he was alive. Nothing like that had ever happened before. From her childhood memories, she hadn't seen or heard anything about her father having an affair. He was a cautious and taciturn person, how could he do something to wrong her mother?

  Li Yuru suddenly remembered something: "This woman looks like someone." she said.

  "Who is it?" Li Yuying asked.

  Li Yuru turned her head, staring at the frame in the living room across from her. She looked for a while, pointed with her hand and said: "This woman looks like the Young Pioneer in that frame."

  "Oh." Li Yuying also turned her head towards the frame.

  "It was that Young Pioneer who presented flowers to Father," said Li Yuru.

  The brother and sister walked up to the frame and carefully examined the Young Pioneer.

  "It's just like, too much alike. It's simply a person. I said, before my father passed away, no matter where he went, he would bring this photo frame with him and hang it in a conspicuous place. At that time, I thought, that was my father's honor. He did it to cherish his honor." Li Yuying said.

  "Brother, look at this." Li Yuru took out a thick, old-fashioned diary with yellowed pages from the brown box that had always accompanied her father. She opened it and suddenly her eyes lit up as a letter fell out from the first page of the notebook.

  Li Yurong bent down and picked up the letter from the ground and handed it over to her brother Li Yu Ying who was standing beside her.

  "What's this again?" The two sisters looked at each other after taking the letter from their younger sister Li Yuru.

  This letter was written for both of them, Li Yuying opened the letter. A line of words jumped into their eyes.

  Yu Ying, Yu Ru

  My son and daughter, I love you. Deeply from the bottom of my heart. I also deeply love your mother. All these years. Watching you grow up day by day until you have a family of your own with children. I am happy for you. And proud of you.

  Your mother left us fifteen years ago due to illness. I still feel guilty about it until now. When I was young, I was busy with work and let her suffer a lot with me. In old age, she should have enjoyed happiness, but she left me very early. I couldn't let her spend a peaceful and happy later years. I really owe her an apology.

  Now, I'm old too. My body is not as good as it used to be. I know that my days on this earth are numbered. Recently, I often have dreams. Dreams of my parents, my deceased sister. Dreams of my sworn brothers from years ago. And those comrades who fought alongside me. Most of them are no longer in this world. Sometimes, I really miss them. Miss the years of fighting and struggling together with them. Fighting side by side, marching together, singing together.

  Now. Those people, those things, still twisting in my mind like a snake, making me unable to let go. Perhaps heaven is calling me to see them, these past few days, my heart has been racing. My right eyelid keeps twitching. There's always a voice by my ear shouting: "Come on, come on."

  Last night, I dreamed of Wanru again. She was as beautiful and lovely as when I first met her, wearing that cheongsam and a chignon adorned with a magnolia flower hairpin, holding a volume of Tang poetry in her hand. She smiled at me, standing on the Lotus Flower Mountain, beckoning to me.

  I know that the days left for me in this world are not many. I am about to leave you all behind and head to a strange, distant world to find my final resting place. Seeing that you are all living happily now, I can close my eyes and depart with peace of mind. However, before I take my leave, there is one thing I want to tell you all. This matter has been buried in the depths of my heart for decades. I have never mentioned it to anyone, not even a single word. Of course, your mother doesn't know about it either. Originally, I didn't intend to tell you all about it. But thinking about it, this matter is really quite strange, yet it's a true experience of mine. I don't want to take it with me to the grave. For my own sake, I will tell you all about it after all.

  Her name is Cheng Wanru. She was my first wife when I was in Lianhua Mountain.

  It's a long story, but it was many years ago...