Chapter 143: The Mountain Tunnel!

In 1967, the Ninth National Congress of the Communist Party of China was held. At the meeting, it was proposed to mobilize the people to destroy the “bourgeois headquarters”—a call to question everything and overthrow everything. The country entered an era of “struggle, criticism, and reform,” and the sweeping Cultural Revolution officially began. Meanwhile, the tunnel excavation project at Fenghuang Mountain in Northeast China had also reached its most intense phase. Surrounding villages continuously sent in laborers to support the effort, creating a bustling and noisy scene filled with drums and gongs.

At that time, Liu Dashao was suffering greatly in his hometown, being publicly criticized and humiliated. Zhang Enpu had died, and all the blame was heaped onto Liu Dashao. Every night, he was forced to attend study sessions and publicly confess his supposed crimes, enduring harsh criticism and denunciation. He was labeled a representative of “ox ghosts and snake spirits.” During the day, he was assigned the heaviest labor while receiving the lowest work points. When it seemed Liu Dashao had been sufficiently punished, the village head, Tian, approached the higher-ups and spoke on his behalf. This time, when workers were being dispatched to the mountain excavation, Liu Dashao was quietly transferred out. It was said that such a criminal should be sent to the harshest place for re-education, to avoid spoiling the commune’s reputation as an advanced unit.

This was a relief from the center of the struggle. Working on the mountain excavation and tunnel digging was tough, but the work points were high. More importantly, after a hard day’s labor, everyone was too exhausted to hold evening study or criticism sessions. As Liu Dashao rode on the Liberation brand truck heading to the site, he felt quite optimistic. Ma Xiaoyan had prepared pickled vegetables for him, her eyes filled with tears. Liu Dashao smiled and said, “Why are you crying? It’s not like I’m going to the execution ground!”

Upon arriving at the mountain construction site, Liu Dashao was stunned. Before him stretched a construction site as far as the eye could see, filled with dense crowds of workers—some digging pits, some carrying soil, others paving roads. He had never seen so many people working together in his entire life. Overwhelmed, he muttered, “My God, so many people, such a vast area. When will this ever be completed?”

However, he had underestimated the scale of the site. The truck continued for another twenty miles along the mountain range under development before finally reaching their assigned section. When they arrived, everyone on the truck was shocked. Before them stood a muddy field dotted with a few scattered tents. Not far away was a small hill no more than a hundred meters high, with piles of broken rocks at its base. Suddenly, there was a loud explosion, a puff of white smoke, and a large chunk of rock tumbled down from the mountainside.

“Hey! Drilling team, move up! Explosives team, come down!” a fat man waving a red flag shouted at the top of his lungs. Liu Dashao and the others stood in awe. The explosion echoed for a while, and tiny bits of gravel still fell from the sky. The newcomers were frightened, realizing how dangerous the blasting really was.

An official approached the fat man and explained the situation. The man glanced at the group still standing there in shock and suddenly gestured sharply, raising a small megaphone and yelling, “Hey! What are you all waiting for up there? Do I have to personally invite you? Get over here!” None of the villagers had ever seen such a scene. Seeing the man’s large belly and neatly combed small crew cut, they assumed he must be a high-ranking cadre. After all, they had never seen such a fat official before. Their faces turned pale with fear, and they rushed over, stopping two or three hundred meters away from the blasting site out of fear of another explosion. The fat man threw down his safety helmet and strode toward them.

“Line up! Line up properly! What are you afraid of?” he shouted as he approached. Liu Dashao whispered to those nearby, “Listen to his accent—he must be a high-ranking cadre from Harbin. Everyone, stand straight!” Upon hearing this, the rural youths, who were generally obedient, quickly stood at attention. The fat man scanned the group and said, “Alright, you’re all under my command now. The higher-ups told me to take you, so I will. I’m just a bit hot-tempered, so don’t take it personally. My name is Fan Debiao. Those who fear me can call me Captain Fan, and those who don’t can just call me Xiao Fan. Now you all know me, right?” Hearing the high-ranking cadre speak so casually, the tension eased a bit. Seeing how thin and frail the newcomers were, Fan Debiao sighed, “Such heavy work, and only this many people? Damn it, how can anyone live like this?”

Liu Dashao, confident in his experience and social skills, stepped forward with a smile and said, “Captain Fan, we’ve come here to serve the people. We won’t fear hardship or fatigue. If we’ve done anything wrong, please feel free to criticize us.”

Fan Debiao looked at him and asked, “What’s your job? Are you the leader?”

The real leader, Wei Fuguo, had already overcome his fear of the Harbin cadre and stepped forward, saying, “Captain, don’t listen to this kid’s nonsense. He was a spirit medium back home, and he’s here for re-education. I’m the real leader, hehe!” Liu Dashao secretly cursed, “You damn Wei Fuguo! You were crying and wailing when your wife was possessed two years ago, and now you’re just throwing bricks at me whenever you get the chance!”

Sure enough, Fan Debiao snorted, “I hate these superstitious frauds the most! In the old society, you swindled the people and ruined their families! You, tomorrow you’ll be assigned to break rocks. I’ll reform you until you’re dead!”

Liu Dashao’s heart sank.

That day, Fan Debiao assigned them tents and led them to the site for on-site training. There wasn’t much to learn—basically, when the red flag waved and the whistle blew, they were to run and take cover from the explosions. When there was no blasting, they were to break or haul rocks. The hauling teams had animals, but the rock-breaking teams relied entirely on their bare hands. Liu Dashao felt utterly disheartened. If it weren’t for the fear of being criticized again, he would have run away that very night.

That evening, after eating a meal of pumpkin porridge, Liu Dashao and the others went to their tents to lie down. Thinking about the hard work awaiting him the next day, Liu Dashao couldn’t fall asleep, muttering, “Master, I was planning to learn some skills from you to make a fortune, but now I’m just suffering…”

The next day, Liu Dashao and his group officially began work. Since none of them had any technical skills, the drilling and detonation work was done by Fan Debiao’s experienced team.

After mingling for four or five days, they became familiar with each other. During idle chatter, Liu Dashao learned that during the height of the armed struggles a few years earlier, Fan Debiao and his group had formed a faction called the “Red Steel Combat Team” at Wuhan Iron and Steel. In a major clash, they had killed two members of the opposing faction. Those two had powerful connections, so to avoid trouble, they used the opportunity of being sent down to the countryside to escape. Their families had also told them to make a name for themselves here so they could secure promotions later. If it weren’t for that hope, how could a group of city-born youths endure such hardships in such a place?

Before even completing a week of rock-breaking, Liu Dashao was nearly in tears at night. One day, thinking about how long this would last, he drifted between thoughts of his girlfriend, his master, and Grandma Fan. Eventually, he dozed off. Having practiced Taoist martial arts, he had keen senses. Before midnight, he suddenly heard the livestock stir and woke up immediately. He listened carefully for a long time but heard nothing else, so he fell asleep again.

The next morning, before he was fully awake, he heard Fan Debiao’s loud voice outside: “Damn it! How come a mule died? Hey, Hu Beikang, come take a look!” Liu Dashao’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly got up, dressed, and ran to the livestock shed. A crowd had already gathered. A short man named Hu Beikang approached, flipping the dead mule over and inspecting it.

“Captain Fan, there’s no wound on it. Probably died from overwork?” Hu Beikang said.

Fan Debiao squatted down to check. “Damn it! Even the mules are dying from exhaustion… This life is impossible!” He patted the mule’s head and suddenly stood up. “I think it might be an outbreak of animal disease!”

Hu Beikang laughed. “Even an outbreak wouldn’t kill it this fast. Should we report it to the engineering headquarters?”

Fan Debiao waved his hand. “Report nothing! If it’s an outbreak, we must bury it immediately to prevent spreading…”

Then he scanned the crowd. “I think the safest place to bury it is in our bellies. What do you think?” Those who were quick-witted understood immediately, swallowing hard and smiling. Back then, having meat could last one’s mouth for months.

Fan Debiao continued, “If the higher-ups ask how the mule died, what do we say?”

A few people shouted, “Outbreak! It died from an outbreak!”

Fan Debiao asked, “And how did we deal with it?”

Everyone shouted, “Buried it! Ha ha, buried it long ago…”

Fan Debiao called a tall, thin man. “Huang Peng, you won’t work today. Tonight, you handle this.” Liu Dashao was delighted—finally, he would get to eat meat. Before he could even wipe the drool from his mouth, Fan Debiao added, “With one mule gone, Liu Dashao, you’ll help haul rocks today!” Liu Dashao’s tears immediately welled up.

When work ended that evening, the smell of roasted mule meat filled the air, and Liu Dashao felt all his fatigue vanish. He washed his bowl early and waited eagerly.

At the meal gathering, Fan Debiao had somehow obtained a small bottle of wine. Standing by the pot, he asked, “Comrades, shall we finish it all at once or save some for tomorrow?”

Everyone was drooling too much to speak, afraid that opening their mouths would let out saliva.

Fan Debiao laughed, “No saving! Finish it all tonight!”

Based on Liu Dashao’s previous experiences at home, he expected that with nearly two hundred people in the camp, the high-ranking cadres would take the best meat first, leaving only bones and broth for the rest. But to his surprise, Fan Debiao and his group were fair. Everyone received a generous bowl, and only after serving everyone did Fan’s close friends take meat from the pot. Liu Dashao took a big bite, burning his mouth but savoring the delicious flavor, tears of happiness streaming down his face.

Fan Debiao and his group were enjoying themselves, and after looking around at the lively dining scene, Fan sighed. He called a young man named Huang Shitou. “Take this wine and give everyone a sip…”

This young man was Huang Peng’s younger brother, a simple and honest person. Without a word, he took the bottle and poured a small capful for each person, ensuring everyone had a taste. As Liu Dashao drank the wine, his resentment toward Captain Fan vanished. A strange thought suddenly crossed his mind: “If another mule dies, we can eat again!” Immediately after thinking it, he felt ashamed and slapped himself. “Captain Fan has been so kind to everyone. How could I think of profiting from public property? That’s unforgivable…”

But little did he know, this thought would soon come true. Two days later, as Liu Dashao was dreaming of chewing on mule bones, Fan Debiao was shouting outside, “Damn it! Are they dying on me now for fun!”

When Liu Dashao rushed out, he was stunned. Another mule was lying dead in the livestock shed! Fan Debiao was furious. This mule was public property, and its mysterious death would be hard to explain.

“Huang Peng! Get a cart and take this damn dead thing to the engineering department. Let them investigate what happened!” Liu Dashao was also puzzled. He had seen animals die from disease in the countryside before, but never this quickly. Could it be sabotage or poisoning? But why poison an animal instead of people?

After sending Huang Peng off with the dead mule, Fan Debiao kicked the livestock shed in anger. “Damn it! I’m staying up tonight! Let’s see how you die tonight!” In his frustration, he even threw away his cigarette. “This life is impossible!”

After work that evening, Fan Debiao really did bring a straw mat and sat beside the livestock shed. His friend Wang Jun also brought a mat, and the two smoked and chatted casually. Liu Dashao had something on his mind—not really worrying about how the mule died, but wondering where the dead mule had gone and whether it had been eaten. After all, when one is hungry, thoughts of ideals and morality fade away.

As Fan Debiao and Wang Jun chatted about their past glory in Harbin, Fan sighed, “Back then, we ruled the streets of Harbin. Who would have thought we’d be guarding livestock now?”

Wang Jun comforted him, “Don’t worry, Brother Biao. In a couple of years, when things calm down, we’ll go back and turn Harbin upside down!”

As they were talking, Huang Peng returned pulling the cart. Fan Debiao stood up and asked, “Did you find out how it died?”

Huang Peng’s face was gloomy. “They didn’t even investigate. As soon as they saw it, they said it was an outbreak and sent the cook to skin and prepare it for eating…”

Fan Debiao spat. “Did you eat some at lunch?”

Huang Peng looked embarrassed. “They invited me to stay. Also, Brother Biao, the department said it’s not your problem. Just write a report later.”

Upon hearing this, Fan Debiao finally relaxed.

Huang Peng then pulled a bag from the cart like a magician. “Brother Biao, on the way back, I saw some early pear trees with ripe fruit, so I picked a few…”

Fan Debiao said in an unpleasant tone, “So this is all you’re capable of… Have a cigarette, stay up with us a while longer before heading to sleep.” Huang Peng sat between the two of them, pulling out pears from his bag to share. Neither of them had eaten enough at dinner, so they grabbed the pears and devoured them hungrily. Liu Dashao had particularly sharp hearing. As he listened to the sound of them eating pears, his mouth began to water. Yet he felt too embarrassed to go out and ask for one himself, making it even harder for him to fall asleep.

The night had grown completely dark, nearing the beginning of May. Around the livestock shed, small mosquitoes buzzed noisily. Huang Peng had eaten several pears when suddenly he felt a heaviness in his stomach and let out a few loud farts. Covering his nose, Fan Debiao scolded him, “Go fart somewhere else! I told you to eat less!”

Huang Peng grinned sheepishly and grabbed a newspaper sheet from beside Fan Debiao, which was used for rolling cigarettes. “I ate too much at lunch and then some pears at night. I think I’ve upset my stomach. Let me go let out a big one!” He then ran off happily. Hu Beikang shouted after him, “You better stay far away when you do it! If I catch even a whiff, I swear I’ll shove a blasting cap up your ass!”

Watching Huang Peng run out of sight, Hu Beikang and Fan Debiao exchanged a grin. The night was pitch black, like ink spilled across the sky. Inside the nearby livestock shed, the large animals were barely visible in the dark, only their silhouettes visible. They swished their tails constantly, trying to keep the mosquitoes away. Suddenly, Fan Debiao mused, “Man, I wonder when this kind of life will ever end. Are we really going to waste our youth stuck in this poor mountain village?”

Hu Beikang, a meticulous and capable man, was quiet for a moment before replying, “I think this project is still going to take at least another three years.”

The two fell silent, puffing on their hand-rolled cigarettes. The smokes were strong but helped keep the mosquitoes at bay.

Just as they were running out of things to say, a sudden “Ow!” echoed from a distance. Huang Peng’s cry was sharp and urgent, followed by a few groans. Fan and Hu immediately stood up, peering into the darkness. But the blackness revealed nothing. “Kangzi, go back and grab that miner’s lamp…” Fan Debiao felt a pang of anxiety and shouted again toward the darkness, “Huang Peng, what’s going on?” There was no response at all. The silence of the night was terrifying.

Fan Debiao’s heart sank. “Huang Peng, you bastard, answer me! Kangzi, where’s the lamp? Hurry the hell up!” In the pitch-black darkness, Hu Beikang fumbled around the shack for several minutes before finally finding the miner’s lamp, by which time he was already sweating from nervousness. Both of them felt a deep unease. Something about that cry just didn’t seem right.

Liu Junqiang clicked the switch on the lamp a few times, but nothing happened. “Damn it! This stupid lamp is broken too! Can this get any worse?” Fan Debiao cursed loudly and then, along with Hu Beikang, plunged into the darkness toward the direction of the sound.

They hadn’t run far when they caught a vague glimpse of a white figure slowly approaching. “He’s wearing a white shirt—that’s Huang Peng!” Fan Debiao exhaled in relief, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Hu Beikang immediately shouted, “You didn’t even answer us! I thought you’d died like that ghost mule, gone and kicked the bucket without a sound…” But Huang Peng said nothing, walking step by step slowly toward the workers’ bunkhouse. As he drew closer, Fan Debiao noticed that Huang Peng hadn’t even fastened his belt. His face was pale, like he had been sick for days. Fan had been about to call him over and scold him, but suddenly felt a pang of pity mixed with amusement. “Look at you! You damn glutton, just had to eat more, didn’t you? Now you’ve nearly shat yourself to death…” He laughed, pointing at Huang’s pants and turning to Hu Beikang, “Look at him, he’s too weak to even pull his pants up!”

Hu Beikang chuckled, “Hey Huang Peng, don’t go getting too weak now. If you try to take tomorrow off, our Boss Fan won’t approve it. Take this as a lesson—see if you still dare to overeat!”

The two laughed as they sat back on their cots, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, Huang Peng had already entered the nearest bunkhouse. By now, Liu Dashao had been woken up by the commotion and was lying on his cot, peering out. He saw Huang Peng in the white shirt walking in. Liu Dashao, always kept awake by the stench of sweat in the bunkhouse, had chosen to sleep in the farthest, outermost cot. Seeing Huang Peng come in now, he felt puzzled. Didn’t Huang usually sleep in Fan Debiao’s bunk? Why was he coming into their bunk tonight?

Still wondering, Huang Peng suddenly sat down on Liu Dashao’s cot. Liu thought maybe he was going to offer him a pear, and his heart leapt with joy. But after a while, Huang hadn’t said a word, and suddenly just collapsed beside Liu. Liu was startled but didn’t dare ask anything—he was, after all, one of Fan Debiao’s men, and Liu couldn’t afford to offend him. So he scooted inward slightly and pretended to be asleep. But as soon as he took a breath, Liu nearly fainted from the stench. Why did Huang Peng smell so strongly of feces?

Now Liu couldn’t pretend to be asleep anymore, but he also didn’t want to open his eyes and make things awkward. So he whispered with his eyes closed, “Hey kid, did you… forget… to wipe?”

But there was no reply. Liu Dashao had incredibly sharp ears, and within less than a minute, he sensed something was wrong. “How come he hasn’t taken a breath this whole time?” His heart tightened. He suddenly opened his eyes and shivered in terror. Huang Peng’s dead fish-like eyes were staring right at him, his eyeballs twitching upward, his mouth drooling. Liu Dashao’s scalp tingled. The moment Liu opened his eyes, Huang seemed to notice him too. With a sudden lunge, Huang opened his mouth wide and bit toward Liu.

But Liu Dashao had trained martial arts for years, and now his skills finally came into play. With his left hand, he quickly pushed upward, flipping Huang’s jaw open. With his right hand, he jabbed under Huang’s ribs and, as he stood up, threw Huang clear to the entrance of the bunkhouse.

“Damn it, this bastard isn’t human!” Liu Dashao thought to himself. Without shouting for help, he immediately straddled Huang, pressing two fingers into the upper part of Huang’s chest in a technique known as the “Clear Qi Seal,” while his left hand pressed firmly on the third cervical vertebra at the back of Huang’s neck—the so-called “Ghost Pulse.” In traditional lore, pressing this spot with force could subdue a reanimated corpse.

The commotion woke everyone in the bunkhouse. Someone groggily asked, “What the hell is going on? Who’s fighting?” Another shouted, “We’ve been working all day, and you still have the energy to fight!?”

Liu Dashao was sweating profusely. “Quick, turn on the lights! There’s something wrong here… a ghost!”