Chapter 3: South of the Mountain and North of the Mountain (Part 1)

  "Zhang Xiaopang, were you angry with me last night? I thought you would come to ask me and lit the lamp waiting for you all night!"

  "Zhang Xiaopang, last night I really wasn't instructed by my brother to say those words to you. Do you still remember what I said? Honestly, they really like being with you!"

  "Zhang Xiaopang, do you like me too?"

  "Zhang Xiaopang, if I have a scar on my face from this injury, will you still like me?!"

  "Zhang Xiaopang, why are you crying? Don't cry, it doesn't hurt at all!"

  "Xiao Pang'er, hold me tight, hold me tight, don't let go, don't let go..."

  When that nightmare-like morning came to an end, Zhang Songling had already climbed over a whole mountain. The chaotic gunfire could no longer be heard behind him, and his classmates didn't know which direction they had run in. Only Peng Weiwei was nestled in his arms, constantly talking to him, fighting against the increasingly heavy drowsiness!

  This time, it was the opposite of when they first met. Most of the time, Zhang Songling just listened, only speaking up in a low voice when he had to respond. As if she wanted to show him everything about herself, Peng Weiwei told him all about her past, including how her mother didn't have a good reputation in the Peng family and how Peng Xuewen was the only one among his siblings who treated her like a real sister. "Xiao Pangzi, don't blame my brother! He's been spoiled by our dad since he was little and always wants to be the best at everything. Actually, he doesn't have any bad intentions!"

  "I'm not blaming you, I'm not blaming you! Don't fall asleep! Weiwei, hold on for a few more minutes, just a few more minutes. We're about to get on the main road, I'll take you to see a doctor, I'll take you to see a doctor!" Zhang Songling forced back tears and responded loudly. "Don't sleep, I won't let you sleep! Open your eyes, open your eyes!"

  "Open your eyes, open your eyes..."

  "Don't sleep, don't sleep, look quickly, look quickly, your brother has come. Your brother has come!"

  "Don't fall asleep——!"

  "Ah——ah——ah——"

  The road is already near at hand. The person in his arms, however, has fallen asleep forever. Between the tightly furrowed eyebrows, there was still a faint trace of anxiety. As if he were really worried that the wound on his face would not heal and Zhang Songling would abandon him.

  Zhang Songling was unwilling to let go, holding Peng Weiwei's body and continuing to stumble forward. From morning till noon, and from noon till sunset. Along the way, he passed through several small villages with only a dozen or so households, trying to find someone to ask where there were doctors, in which direction the nearest county town was. But no one was willing to give him directions, on the contrary, those shabbily dressed villagers picked up wooden sticks and pitchforks, as if guarding against the plague, blocking their own doorways, with faces full of vigilance.

  Zhang Songling didn't have the energy to argue with these people, so he hugged Peng Weiwei and continued to stumble forward. It wasn't until the person in his arms had become as cold as a block of ice that he slowly came to a stop.

  The night had already deepened, and he didn't know how far he had walked that day. Nor did he know where he was at this moment. Looking around, all he saw was a majestic mountain and an endless forest. At the foot of the mountain was the road he came from. There were no signs of any horse-drawn carriages on it, and when he listened carefully, there were no human voices in the air either.

  In this mountainous and picturesque place, being with Peng Weiwei for eternity also seems like a good idea! With a hint of madness, he found a sunny slope, used his fingers and branches to dig two holes in the ground. One was for Peng Weiwei, who would never feel pain again, and the other was reserved for himself. As he covered Peng Weiwei's grave with the last handful of dirt, he suddenly didn't want to die anymore. He hugged his knees, facing the lonely grave in front of him, and burst into loud sobs.

  He hated, hated those people lurking around the train station this morning, sinister and cruel, actually opening fire on a group of unarmed students! He hated, hated Peng Xuewen's nonsense, delaying the Blood Flower Society's journey, pushing everyone step by step into the trap! He hated, hated Fang Guoqiang's insistence on going to Beiping, causing everyone to get up early to catch some military train! He hated, hated Zhou Jue's lack of responsibility, when he could have turned everyone back south with just one word, but instead made things so complicated! He hated, hated Tian Qingyu's recklessness, when the train tracks were already broken, yet he went to show off and find some carriage route! He hated, hated all the people he had met recently, even more hated himself!

  If he had been bolder last night and taken the initiative to go find Peng Weiwei to question her, the two of them wouldn't have ignored each other for an entire evening and morning, leaving behind eternal regret! If he had jumped out to express his stance to Fang Guoqiang before Peng Weiwei spoke up, saying he wanted to head south, there wouldn't have been any misunderstanding between them! If he hadn't felt guilty and taken the initiative to help Beidou's classmates with their luggage, perhaps others wouldn't have gone to see them off at the train station! If this morning he had heard the gunshot and wasn't so scared that his legs couldn't move, but instead bravely opened his arms to block the flames like Zhou Ju, perhaps Peng Weiwei wouldn't have been injured, let alone killed!

  What's done is done!

  The deceased is gone, but the living have an extra responsibility on their shoulders. They must avenge them and reclaim the blood debt! Who the enemy is, is actually very obvious. When you push back the events of two consecutive days, Qin Deguang's figure emerges.

  Only he knew that everyone would go to wait for the non-existent train this morning. And only he could gather such a large force near Hulu Island. The Blood Flower Society had been careful all the way, never offending anyone except the Qin family and the Japanese devils! Perhaps the Qin family had long colluded with the Japanese devils, ready to stab the 29th Army in the back at any time!

  "What 'a son cannot cover up for his father's mistakes', what 'can't wait to go to the front line' are all fake. That person had been preparing to put Blood Flower Society to death from the very beginning! Looking back, the tricks he used were actually very simple, almost all of them were flaws. But everyone at that time just believed in his patriotic passion with one-sided wishful thinking, and stepped into the trap set by him with gratitude in their hearts!"

  When the sun rises again from the east, Zhang Songling's tears have dried up. He picked a few bunches of wild flowers with dew and inserted them in front of Peng Weiwei's tomb. He bowed his head deeply once, twice, three times. Then, he raised his head and walked out of the mountain in big strides.

  Almost overnight, his eyes turned icy. Gone was the clarity and naivety unique to young people, replaced by a deep-seated chill. Like a lone wolf emerging from a pile of corpses, he was always ready to pounce, snapping shut his opponent's throat.

  Previously, Xuehua Society classmates had complained that he only had the heroic spirit of building achievements in his eyes, but no hatred. Now, if someone is willing to look closely at his eyes, they will discover that the resentment is as deep as the seawater under the Arctic ice. When hugging Peng Weiwei and escaping into the woods near the train station, Zhang Songling saw another group of people with guns in the woods. At the time, he was only concerned about escaping, and didn't have time to think carefully. Now that he recalls it, he suddenly realizes that those people must also be part of the trap. Among them were a few who seemed familiar from his encounter at the Hepping Restaurant, where they wore waiter uniforms. Although they changed into different clothes in the woods, their body shape and temperament could not be altered.

  "I'm going to Beiping, I'll report the events at Hulu Island to Song Zheyuan's people. Tell him that there are traitors behind the 29th Army and let him take action to remove this tumor as soon as possible!" At a three-way intersection at the foot of the mountain, Zhang Songling looked up at the direction and started walking north. After walking for several miles, he began to hesitate again, "What if Song Zheyuan really is in cahoots with the Japanese devils, plotting for North China autonomy, as Peng Xuewen said? What if he doesn't believe me? What if Qin is colluding with people inside the 29th Army and I'm unable to report the situation? Will someone silence me? Is it possible that Hulu Island was originally a secret plot by Song Zheyuan, otherwise why did the military train stop only here to refuel and replenish water..."

  Just escaped from a death trap, Zhang Songling now dares not to believe anyone easily. He must learn lessons and be cautious everywhere to avoid repeating the mistakes of yesterday morning. He must observe carefully, observing every word and deed of everyone around him, even if they look like Maitreya Buddha in the temple, even if they wear countless halos on their heads and have a good reputation that is more boastful than all over the world.

  He was so absorbed in planning for the future that he neglected to observe what was happening around him, and as a result, even when a burlap sack suddenly fell from the sky, he didn't have time to react.

  "We did it! We did it!" The scene in front of me suddenly disappeared, and immediately afterwards, cheers erupted from all directions.

  "Tie him up, tie him up, present him to the big master. We caught a little Japanese devil!" Before he could react, the suddenly appearing crowd cheered and pressed him to the ground, tying his hands and feet firmly together with ropes.

  "I'm not a Japanese devil, I'm not a Japanese devil!" Zhang Songling hastened to loudly defend himself, but no one believed him. Struggling with all his might, his wrists and ankles immediately hurt as if knives were stabbing them. They were pig's trotter cuffs, and having once watched a butcher slaughter pigs near his home, he quickly gave up the unrealistic idea of trying to break free. The tighter he struggled, the more painful it would be, and before things became clear, there was no need for him to suffer unnecessarily.

  "Uncle, big brother, I'm really not a Japanese devil. I'm Chinese, I'm a student!" He felt himself being carried on a wooden pole, lifted and walking in a certain direction. He slowed down his tone, shouting loudly, "Let me go, I'm really not a Japanese devil. I'll follow you myself, I won't escape halfway!"

  "You're so short and pale, you must be a Japanese spy! Shut up if you don't want to suffer, wait until you see the master of the house, then it's your turn to speak!" Someone slapped him hard on the head through the cloth bag, loudly refuting him.