The Paramour

"I'm not really an Azure child, but I did grow up on an Azure logistics base, ever since I was seven..." Han Qingyu and the others called the young girl who had thrown the sour pears that day Xiao Li. None of them really knew who had started it or how it had caught on. Fortunately, the girl didn't mind at all. Every time she heard it, she would answer brightly with a smile, and whenever she had free time, she would drag a crowd over to hang out in the ward, eagerly asking about all kinds of stories from the battlefield. Today was the first time she talked about her own story. "That year, an explosion happened in our village. Officially it was called an explosion, but it was actually a Great Spike crashing down right beside the village threshing floor. Back then, no one understood what was happening. When people saw something fall from the sky, they gathered to watch from a distance. Then the Great Spike came out and started killing—killing anyone it saw. "A lot of people died. Mama was working on the threshing floor, so she died too. Papa shielded Grandma and me as we ran, but we couldn't outrun it... so he told Grandma to keep running with me. "Then Papa turned around by himself, grabbed a pitchfork, and went to block it... Papa said his wife was gone, and what kind of grown man couldn't even protect his wife? It was just as well—he was going to avenge Mama... Papa was a stonemason. He was strong enough to carry over two hundred jin of grain on his shoulders. "But ordinary people are so weak and small in front of a Great Spike, aren't they?" Xiao Li paused here, holding back her tears, and concluded, "Later, a squad from the First Army arrived... and after that, we came to Azure." Xiao Li said her dream had always been to go to the sighting frontline, kill Great Spikes, and avenge her parents, but her test results showed her source energy fusion degree was very low. Left with no choice, she studied medicine and came to the medical station. "A medical station is the frontline too, isn't it? ...It counts." Xiao Li's eyes were earnest. Only when everyone nodded in agreement did she continue, "So, in the future, I'm definitely going to marry a warrior who hacks down Great Spikes on the front line. And I'll bear him a son, and when our son grows up, he'll go hack Great Spikes too." She had blurted this out naturally, swept up in the emotion of the moment. Once the words left her mouth and the emotion settled, she grew a little embarrassed and flustered. "Aiya, you're not allowed to laugh at me for this later! Don't laugh, nobody laugh—stop... It's not like I'm saying I'll marry one of you. I'm still young, just over sixteen. I'm going to take my time picking." With that, shy and bashful, she lowered her head. "We won't laugh, we won't laugh," Wen Jifei said hurriedly. "By the way, we actually have a favor to ask of you all." Between their travel time and the days spent at the medical station, nine days had already passed. Wu Xu's injuries had mostly healed by now, and Han Qingyu had decided to check on the situation with the He clan, after which they would either head back first or strike directly. "What is it? Tell us," Xiao Li said generously, patting her chest. Behind her, several young nurse friends nodded solemnly, listening closely. "It's like this: the few of us are leaving this afternoon..." "You're... leaving already?!" Leaving already? Working at a medical station, Xiao Li couldn't say she hoped they would visit again, nor could she ask when they would return. "Yeah." Wen Jifei nodded, then pointed to Xiao Weijie lying in bed and said meaningfully, "But he can't head back yet. After we're gone, please take good care of him." "Oh." Although reluctant to see them go, Xiao Li and the others gave only a brief, quiet whimper of sorrow before nodding vigorously. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of him. We won't let him hurt... Uh, maybe a little hurt now and then, but we definitely won't let him get bored." "Thank you," Han Qingyu said in gratitude. He stood up and added, "Well then, see you next time." Xiao Li looked up at him and shook her head. "Mmh... you shouldn't say that so casually." "It's fine. Soldiers inevitably get hurt," Han Qingyu said with a smile. "No need to be superstitious about it. We'll definitely meet again." "..." Xiao Li and the girls hesitated for a moment, then all nodded. After lunch that day, Han Qingyu and the others said goodbye to Ran Qiuling and set off. On the rugged winding mountain roads, the vehicle couldn't move quickly. It took about three hours before they reached the outskirts of a county seat. Han Qingyu removed the blindfold from Zhu Jiaming and asked, "Is it this county?" In truth, Han Qingyu could already judge the approximate location from the information he had received from Shang Nianhua; he was merely confirming it once more. "Yes," Zhu Jiaming nodded. He had lived quite well in the medical station's temporary cell, eating and sleeping his fill, and after several days he looked ruddy and refreshed. "Where exactly is the He clan located?" "Next to a spot where an old man sells baked sesame cakes. There's also a woman with permed hair running a small shop there, and a bike-and-auto repair stand beside it. The repair shop owner is about forty, not a good guy—at night he sneaks out and tosses nails on the road to puncture people's tires..." "All right. Then we'll stop here and wait until nightfall before going." It was evident this fellow could never name a specific street or road, yet he genuinely knew the location... Han Qingyu gave it further thought: the few of them were carrying all their gear, and their weapons had to be brought inside as well... They might as well wait until deep into the night. They had the car pull over to a roadside spot, and they simply waited. The place was remote, with few passing vehicles. Only after roughly four hours did they see a truck pass by. Surprisingly, not long after the truck passed, it turned back and pulled up alongside Han Qingyu and the others' jeep. The window rolled down. Sitting in the passenger seat was a man around forty years old. After staring intently for a moment, the man spoke up: "You... people of the Yu clan? And you, where are you working now?" He actually recognized Wu Xu and Zhu Jiaming. In secret, Han Qingyu readied himself to strike and kill. Wu Xu seemed not to remember him at all, merely meeting his gaze without speaking. Zhu Jiaming, however, enthusiastically grabbed a cigarette from Wen Jifei, leaned out, offered one, and said, "Currently at the Shang clan. And you? Where are you making your fortune?" "Making what fortune?!" The man seemed taken aback. "What fortune?! You don't recognize me? ...Pang clan, Pang Jinghe... Who are you?!" His gaze shifted toward Han Qingyu, laced with vigilance. How was he supposed to make something up? Claim the Han clan? Did these insular clans even have a Han clan? If he claimed the Yu clan, the man had seen Wu Xu and would probably grow suspicious, and the same went for the Shang clan... Han Qingyu wondered if he should just chop him down and be done with it. "How should I put this..." During the few seconds Han Qingyu hesitated, Zhu Jiaming, with uncharacteristic sharpness, lowered his voice to a whisper and said awkwardly, "Well, if you really want to know... he's our Madam's paramour." A paramour?! I don't even have a girlfriend, I... Han Qingyu: "..." "Oh." But the man didn't seem surprised at all. Pang Jinghe looked Han Qingyu over once more and promptly believed it. With a sarcastic curl at the corner of his mouth, he chuckled. "No wonder." Zhu Jiaming offered an ingratiating smile. "Understood..." Pang Jinghe lit the cigarette and pondered for a moment. "So that means both your clans received the invitation as well, right? Then why are you still sitting around here?" "Waiting for dark," Zhu Jiaming explained with a smile. "Afraid it wouldn't be convenient to go right now." "Convenient my ass," Pang Jinghe suddenly snapped, swearing. "You're just scared shitless, hesitating here to see which way the wind blows, aren't you? Gutless bastards." Hearing this, Han Qingyu's heart jolted. The Yu clan had gathered so many families—there seemed to be some kind of operation underway. And judging by Pang Jinghe's tone, this operation was clearly dangerous, which meant... Azure! The target of their action could only be Azure. "All right, stop dawdling. My truck will lead the way; follow behind me." Pang Jinghe called out. The truck restarted its engine and drove off. "Are we going?" Liu Shiheng turned his head and asked. Han Qingyu thought for a second and nodded. Let's say a few words... Han Qingyu's name was given to him by an itinerant old monk who had watched over the ruined temple in town back in those years. When he grew old enough to understand and asked about it, he was told that around the time he was born, the rice seedlings in the paddies were just turning from yellow to green, and the mountain creek had flooded, overflowing for days on end. So this name of his was chosen to suppress disaster. On the strength of this, the old monk had collected five dou of rice from every village along the river back then. That was nineteen years ago. That solitary old monk, who had made a living reading fortunes, telling faces, picking auspicious days, and choosing grave sites with a tongue that could talk its way out of anything no matter what mistake he made, had departed for other parts some years earlier. In truth, judging by the ancient customs of rural areas in certain regions, the name Han Qingyu was not particularly good; it was a bit too grand. But in Fenglong'ao, no one knew any better. Just as the people here did not know that the name of their own little mountain village was also too grand—far too grand. Fenglong'ao, a tiny mountain village whose generations of inhabitants had never been wealthy, yet whose hill paddies had always yielded harvests bountiful enough that no one ever starved or froze. As yet another generation of mountain folk on this remote stretch of land, an ordinary farm boy, Han Qingyu had experienced only two major events in his nineteen years of ordinary life: One was that he had failed the college entrance exams this year. The other was that he had failed them last year. "Twice now..." The old pear tree in the farmhouse courtyard stood tall, an abandoned magpie's nest perched among its branches. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patches of light and shadow on the ground. Sitting beneath the tree, Han Qingyu muttered to himself unconsciously, then gave what might have been a smile, though it inevitably looked rather bleak. He could actually find a few excuses. For instance, his Chinese teacher had formerly been a mail carrier who switched to teaching solely because a tofu-block-sized poem of his had been printed in a newspaper. Nowadays, the theme of every class was reciting to his students the new poems he had never managed to publish since. His English teacher was well up in years, an old sent-down youth who had been stuck here in his youth after sleeping with a girl from a prominent local clan. His own major had been Russian, his Mandarin had a Tangshan accent, and when speaking English he always jumbled the three accents together, producing a result far harder to decipher than any single one of them. Yet none of this really mattered. Failing was failing; there was no arguing with the outcome. "Then take it one more time. What does the old saying go? 'Trouble comes in threes, but no more.'" Having overheard his muttering, his mother, Zhang Jiexia, chimed in just as she rounded the corner of the wall. As she spoke, she set down the wooden washbasin in her hands, picked up a wet garment, wrung it out, shook it a few times, and hung it over a bamboo pole. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, stumbling on the college entrance exams was hardly surprising. It was perfectly common for ordinary folks to take it two or three years in a row. His mother was a straightforward, brisk woman; uneducated and knowing little, she was not particularly dejected. Take it once more? Han Qingyu felt a stir in his heart. Deep down, he wanted to. But turning his thoughts back to the two subjects in which he was terribly weak, the light in his eyes dimmed again. "Another year probably won't help... It feels like I really just don't have it in me." He still kept other thoughts unspoken—in truth, relative to their income, the cost of attending high school in these years was not small. Over the past few years, the family had already fallen into debt to put him through school, and with fewer hands for manual labor, his parents had worked far harder than most of their neighbors. Feeling he had little chance of passing, he felt too ashamed to try again. "...Is that so? See, Ma doesn't know much..." Turning her head, the mother studied her son's expression carefully, gauging his thoughts. Han Qingyu had always been a boy with a mind of his own, and in recent years he had even begun making decisions for the household. Since Qingwa-zi said so, Zhang Jiexia thought it over and said, "Well, you decide for yourself. If it doesn't work out, stop here. We can still count as educated folks..." She meant to comfort the boy, putting no pressure on him and certainly not forcing him. Yet as she went on speaking, Zhang Jiexia's face suddenly brightened, her eyes gleaming. "Then why don't you just stay home, take a wife, have kids, and get your life going?!" Her voice rose at the end of the sentence, ringing with eagerness and anticipation. Over the past two or three years, quite a few young men in the village around Han Qingyu's age had quietly gotten married, and their kids were already running about. His mother had secretly been harboring this wish all along. Han Qingyu knew it, and he looked up with a helpless smile. Zhang Jiexia's enthusiasm was ignited. "Seriously, over in Shanglong Village, Wanfen's mother took a liking to you early on. She's dropped hints to me several times, both in plain words and between the lines. How about..." Once his mother got started, the words poured out in a rush, threatening not to stop. "Wanfen's mother? How could that possibly work?!" Han Qingyu quickly cut her off. His mother asked, "Why wouldn't it work?" "Well... Wanfen's dad is still around, isn't he? I haven't heard of any trouble that'd make them divorce. Besides, Wanfen and I were elementary school classmates. Having her call me 'Dad' in the future wouldn't seem right, would it?" Han Qingyu grinned with a thoroughly punchable expression. "Huh?" Zhang Jiexia froze for a moment, then caught on, snapping at him, "You—you little rascal, all you know is talking nonsense..." Then her irritation turned into a fond scolding. "Fine, fine. If you can still crack jokes, your father and I can stop worrying... These past two days, we were terrified you wouldn't be able to get past it." They had been worried sick the entire time, only holding it in for fear that showing it would weigh too heavily on their son's mind. "Speaking of which, I almost forgot—your granduncle's family is hosting a banquet today." "And tomorrow, your cousin has to go meet another matchmaker for a blind date; the last one didn't pan out." "..." With her mind at ease, Zhang Jiexia began chattering about relatives, neighbors, and everyday gossip, drifting further and further afield until the courtyard was filled with the ebb and flow of her voice. After a long while, his father, Han Youshan, who had been sitting to the side weaving bamboo crates without a word, finally looked up. He glanced first at his wife, then at his son, and ventured: "If all else fails, why don't we look for connections and send Qingzi into the military? That's a good way forward too." So that was why he had stayed quiet; he had been turning this over in his mind all along. In these times, joining the military was naturally a good option. There were no wars to fight, and if things went well, returning after discharge could land one a government job. If luck was on his side, he might even be promoted to an officer cadre in the army, or test into a military academy and become an officer. Han Youshan's suggestion energized all three of them in the courtyard. "Aiyo, isn't that the truth?! Good, this is good!" Zhang Jiexia grew excited. Tossing aside the half-wrung wet clothes, she wiped her hands on her apron and headed toward the house, saying, "Then we must hurry! I'll go wrap up those two bottles of liquor we saved right now. Old Han, hurry over to the village chief's house and ask him if there's still time..." She paused abruptly mid-sentence, her footsteps halting. Then her expression instantly fell. Turning back, she let out a sigh. "Ai, forget it. In our village, even if a spot could be secured, isn't the village chief's Jiasheng right at that age too? He's probably been waiting for it all along... How could our Qingzi ever get a turn?" "That... is true. I hadn't thought of that just now," Han Youshan murmured, his spirits sinking in turn. "It's fine," Han Qingyu said, hiding his disappointment. He looked up with an easy smile. "I wanted to think things over a bit more myself anyway. Don't worry, there'll always be a way." "Ah." "Mm." With another path forward closed before their son, Han Youshan and Zhang Jiexia lapsed into an involuntary silence. The atmosphere in the courtyard grew somewhat heavy. "Right," the mother finally broke the silence, saying, "There's a banquet at your granduncle's house tonight. Qingzi, are you going?" Pausing, she added, "If you don't feel like going, Ma will cook something for you first." Fenglong'ao was only so large. When a banquet was held, more than half the village would attend. Zhang Jiexia had added that last sentence because she feared that if her son went, every single person would ask whether he had passed the exams, and she didn't want him losing face or feeling miserable. "Of course I'm going," Han Qingyu stood up, smiling brightly. Meeting his parents' worried gazes, he explained, "Everyone's bound to ask sooner or later anyway, and I'm not about to miss out on a good meal." He said it playfully, coaxing a chuckle from both his parents. In truth, this was also the honest reality: in the Fenglong'ao of 1990, a banquet meant a rare taste of rich food and meat, a true "grand event." ... A rural celebration's open-table feast might not have had exquisite dishes, but there had to be at least two kinds of meat—chicken, duck, fish, or pork—for the sake of appearance, along with cigarettes and liquor. That night's banquet lasted until past eight in the evening before finally drawing to a close. Yet the crowd did not entirely disperse. Quite a few neighbors and relatives, a bit tipsy and their lips still glistening with grease, lingered behind, gathered on the threshing ground not far outside the host's front door to smoke and chat. "I say, if Qingwa-zi had passed this time, they'd have had to host a few tables too, wouldn't they? What a shame," someone said, picking their teeth with a sigh of regret. At this time, there were few families in the village willing to support a child through high school. Counting both last year and this year, Han Qingyu had been the only kid in the village to study all the way to taking the college entrance exams. "Yeah, well... he just came up a bit short," Han Youshan answered on his son's behalf. In fact, Han Qingyu was there himself, merely sitting in a corner of the crowd. He was rather weary. Today, just about everyone who should or shouldn't have asked about the college entrance exams had already asked him once. To tell the truth, facing it all really did sting a little. With this sort of thing, let alone malicious mockery and sarcasm, even well-meaning concern and comfort only weighed more heavily on one's heart the more one heard it. Though he looked calm enough on the surface right now, frustration had piled up quite heavily inside him. "Year after year of tuition and good food... speaking of which, your family raised so many chickens, but over all these years you probably never sold a single egg, did you? Adding it all up... it really is such a pity," that person sighed once more. "A few eggs were meant for the kid's health to begin with. Why bring all that up?!" Han Youshan said, a little displeased. He took a puff of his cigarette and added, "Besides, once you learn knowledge, it stays with you. It'll always be useful." "Isn't that right? Just look at our Qingwa-zi's height and build—he's grown into a fine young man. He's educated too. At the very least, he won't have to worry one bit about finding a wife or bride prices down the line; plenty of families would be glad to have him." An older man from the uncle generation chimed in with supportive words, laughing twice in an attempt to steer the conversation away. But before he could manage it, a new topic sprang up from the crowd. Someone let out a heavy sigh and summed up, "Ai, when you get down to it, our Fenglong'ao's very first university student still didn't materialize." "Isn't that so? Our hollow of a village has to be at least two hundred years old, hasn't it? I heard that even back when things were thriving in the old days, not a single imperial scholar ever came out of here. Truly a bizarre thing when you talk about it." The one who replied turned to point at the rolling mountain peaks not far away, saying grudgingly, "With such good feng shui in our village, too." At these words, many people nodded and chimed in, "Aye, true enough." The claim that the village possessed good feng shui was ancient; otherwise, it wouldn't have had the character "Dragon" in its name. In the corner, Han Qingyu looked up along with everyone else. Truth be told, in the dark of night, the surrounding mountains enclosing the village really did resemble a winding, crouching dragon. Then again, if one went out of one's way looking for it, how many mountain ranges in the world couldn't be made to look somewhat like a crouching dragon? "This matter... you youngsters probably don't know," an elder of the village spoke up, puffing on his pipe and reminiscing. "Back in the day, when I was only in my teens, a passing blind fortune-teller said it... said this place of ours could never produce a great figure." A wave of surprise rippled through the crowd as people asked, "Why?" The old man raised a finger toward the distant mountains. "Because this dragon of ours is locked down. The blind fortune-teller said back then: 'Look at the mountain and ask the name of the land.' You're Fenglong'ao—the Sealed Dragon Hollow. If it can seal even a dragon, won't it easily trap a few small fry trying to jump and soar?" "Eh?... That actually sounds true." Suddenly the logic made sense, and many felt it deeply, sighing and complaining. In turn, even Han Qingyu failing the college entrance exams two years in a row seemed to have found a perfectly reasonable explanation. All at once, those wanting to comfort him and those turning their heads in the crowd to look for him multiplied. Again? Han Qingyu felt both distressed and amused. He naturally didn't believe such things, and seeing the way things were going, he hastily slipped away from the corner, leaving the threshing ground by himself. ... After he left, on the threshing ground. "Dad! Dad! Just now our TV suddenly went *crackle*, and it's all static snow... Now we can't even watch Channel 1!" A flock of children who had been watching TV inside came tumbling out the host's doorway, one of them hollering at the top of his lungs toward the adults on the threshing ground. In those years, unstable television signals were an everyday, frequent occurrence. Deep in their conversation, the adults waved dismissively in annoyance. "Gently smack it a couple of times yourselves and wiggle the antenna around... I don't have time to go fiddle with it for you." He brushed the kids off like that. Around the same time, someone threw their head back, looked up at the moon, and cried out in exaggeration, "Hey, what on earth is that? Look, quick... right beneath the moon, that dark shape, what is that thing?" Hearing this, everyone looked up. Beneath the half-moon of the summer night, there was indeed a black shadow. It seemed to be moving, yet it was impossible to see clearly, and soon it vanished into the dark night sky. "Probably some big bird flying past." "Anyway, it can't be an airplane. Airplanes have lights on the bottom that flash." "It's just an eagle or something. It's not like we've never seen one." So the people said.