An Honest Kid

"I hold the blade... heads shattered in yellow dust... warm blood still crimson red. I hold the red tassel, fit to bind the azure dragon..." Amid the distant, lingering singing that had drifted through the night of Tradition Night, Han Qingyu had a dream. He shouldn't have had any other memories of Tradition Night, yet in his dream, he stood alongside several blurred faces, beating down four veterans. Then he was tossed into the air by those blurred faces, caught, and thrown up again... More and more people joined in, with many smiling faces clapping and cheering for him amidst the darkness and firelight, yet he couldn't make out a single one of them. Falling from the air once more, seeming to plunge from somewhere unimaginably high, Han Qingyu turned his head to look down, only to find that the ground below had suddenly emptied—and there were no longer any arms waiting to catch him. He awoke with a start from the sensation of falling, drenched in cold sweat. The sky was already turning gray with dawn. Han Qingyu sat up, pondered for a moment, and decided the dream was probably caused by "resentment." Then he got out of bed to wash up. Han Qingyu had never been to a military camp before, but he could guess that the dormitories of regular army units were probably somewhat different from those of the Azure Coalition. Here, they had bunk beds and three sinks out on the balcony, which kept the morning rush from becoming too crowded most of the time. The iron lockers for clothes and sundries were very, very old, bearing traces of iron hooks and slanted metal bars that had once lined their interior walls. Based on what he had learned in Lao Jian's car that day, these fixtures had likely been designed to store and organize "three-dimensional maneuver gear." But whether because the rooms had later been cleared for recruits or for some other reason, they had been stripped away. Before long, the others got up one after another. Seeing that Han Qingyu had already finished washing up, someone muttered softly that whoever got to eat meat was indeed far more energetic. Holding a towel, Yang Qingbai stood by the doorway and suddenly turned his head to shout, "Come over here and look at this!" His voice sounded both pleasantly surprised and perplexed. "What is it?" The group crowded over, took a look, and were instantly baffled. A new entry had been filled out on the evaluation chart on the door. For the first time since its formation, Dormitory 11 had been awarded points. And it was thirteen points in one go. That shrank their "lead" over the second-to-last place to just six points. Everyone racked their brains trying to recall if they had done anything positive recently... The answer was no. Passing recruits from other dorms on the same floor were discussing among themselves, saying that the dormitories whose members had stepped forward to fight the veterans last night had all received points this morning—three points per dorm. "So," Liu Shiheng said, glancing at the evaluation chart on the door, "could it be because of our performance during the meat raid?" After discussing it, everyone agreed that had to be it, because there was simply no other explanation. The only one who had actually snatched meat on the raid night was Han Qingyu. He was also the Han Qingyu who turned off the lights, and according to rumor, the Han Qingyu who had landed a hit on Chief Instructor Zhang's head. Han Qingyu had become famous among the recruits. "Then why thirteen points? It's not a round number, nor is it a multiple of the points the other dorms got." Yang Qingbai voiced his confusion while hanging up his towel. That was a bit of a puzzle. Everyone debated it all the way until they fell in for morning drill without reaching a conclusion—until Wen Jifei, mid-stride, suddenly turned his head toward Han Qingyu. "Could that be... the weight of that meat? Thirteen... jin?" Wen Jifei said hesitantly. "Qingzi, how heavy would you guess?" Han Qingyu recalled how it had felt in his hands. "It might well have been a dozen or so jin." "..." The answer had been uncovered, and it was utterly absurd. After that, not a single trace of joy or excitement remained over "earning points for the first time." "We want meat! Meat! You can take as many points as you damn well please... What the hell are thirteen points good for? Aren't we still in dead last?!" "We want meat..." Morning drill, then breakfast. After eating, there was still a little time before training commenced. Han Qingyu hurried off to mail a letter—his very first letter home since joining the army, permission having just been granted. Only his home address was written on the envelope, and it remained unsealed. He handed the letter to the administrator in charge, who happened to be a female soldier today. She glanced at the open flap, gave a slight nod of indication, and then looked up to say, "Pardon me." Han Qingyu nodded. Since the rule existed, doing it openly like this was far better than tearing it open in secret behind his back. Then the female soldier read the letter. When she finished, she looked up with a stiff, professional smile, volunteering no self-righteous thoughts, reactions, or sympathy, and asked, "Mailing opportunities are limited, but there's no restriction on volume or the type of items. Do you have anything else to send along? For instance..." Han Qingyu said, "I'm still a recruit." "Right, I didn't notice." With that, she took a notebook from a drawer, flipped to a page, turned it around, and pushed it across to Han Qingyu. "Copy down this return address. Word for word—don't miss a single character... Here's a pen." Han Qingyu copied it down and sealed the envelope, then signed his name on a sender registry. The female soldier took it and double-checked everything. Confirming the address was accurate without any unnecessary words or punctuation, she clipped the letter into one of several stacks sorted with binder clips. "All set. Both outgoing and incoming mail will be forwarded through intermediate channels, so there might be a delay of a few days. As soon as a reply arrives, we'll notify you right away." "Thank you." Han Qingyu offered his thanks and stepped outside. Assistant Instructor Hu Haipeng was waiting for him at the doorway. Seeing him emerge, he threw an arm over Han Qingyu's shoulders and led him to an office. The office was sparsely furnished, filled with the austere atmosphere typical of Huaxia's veteran soldiers. Regimental Commander Li Wangqiang sat in a chair behind a desk. On the wall behind him hung a piece of calligraphy: *Why does a man not strap on a Wu hook, to take back the fifty frontier prefectures?* It was the office's sole decoration. Li Wangqiang said nothing, merely staring at Han Qingyu as if intending to use the sharp, killing aura honed over twenty years of military service to put pressure on this kid. Then, the door behind Han Qingyu was shut. A male and a female officer, both around thirty years old, entered from outside, saluted the regimental commander, and took seats on the wooden couch with solemn expressions. "Han Qingyu?" the woman asked. An idiotic question. Han Qingyu would have loved to claim he was Wen Jifei, but he had been summoned here by name, so he could only reply, "Yes." "August 13, 1990, from late afternoon into the night—where were you?" The woman glanced down, then looked up, cutting straight to the question. "..." Han Qingyu's mind was thrown into turmoil, though nobody else could tell. He had assumed this was about last night's meat; he never imagined it would be about *that* incident. "On the mountain," he said. "Where on the mountain?" the male officer followed up. "In a pit," Han Qingyu replied. "..." At a loss, the two officers turned their gazes toward the regimental commander behind Han Qingyu. The corner of the commander's mouth twitched slightly as he fought to maintain his solemn dignity, then nodded to indicate everything was fine and they should proceed. The female officer cleared her throat. "What were you doing in the pit?" "Lying prone." "..." The two officers exchanged glances and came to an agreement, then turned back to him. "How about this: just give us a full account of everything that happened that night from start to finish." This manner of questioning was the most underhanded, and the most dangerous. A free narrative—especially under these conditions—could easily expose details and aspects the other party hadn't even known about, and it made it easy for them to seize upon inconsistencies. Those with weak nerves might even blurt out their deepest worries and secrets outright. Han Qingyu thought about it seriously, then said, "First, I took a piss. Afterwards, I figured urine would leave marks, and maybe a smell that could get me noticed. Plus, I didn't want to lie prone next to somewhere I'd just pissed, so..." The male officer made a motion as if about to slam the desk, but hesitated and held back, his voice merely rising in volume. "Skip all that! Just stick to the main points." Fortunately, he cut in. Otherwise, Han Qingyu would have spent a very long time elaborating on that part. "All right," he said. "The main points... I was too nervous back then, so I can't remember a lot of things clearly. How about you ask questions and I'll answer?" "Can't remember clearly?" The female officer looked up at him, eyes flashing sharply. "Killing people! You can't remember that either?!" "That, I remember," Han Qingyu replied. "..." After a brief pause, the officers' interrogation suddenly accelerated. "How many?" "Two." "How did you kill them?" "Ambushed them from behind." "Where did you get the weapons?" "Dropped by the dead." "How many weapons?" "Two." "What were they?" "A spike and a blade." "Where were the fatal wounds?" "One in the back of the head, one in the back of the neck." "..." Both officers stopped simultaneously and looked at each other. At this point in the questioning, the answer had already become clear. Behind Han Qingyu, Regimental Commander Li Wangqiang felt a mix of bewilderment and excitement. Even though it had been confirmed, his mind was still insisting: *How is that possible? How could that be...* Lao Jian, who was "listening in" from an adjoining compartment, was in much the same state, except his pleasant surprise and shock were even greater, accompanied by even more bewilderment... and perhaps a tinge of irritation as well. In the room, the two officers brought in on short notice to assist with the "interrogation" generally knew the true situation, and they knew this was not actually an interrogation at all... Right now, they felt an urge to stand up and salute the recruit before them. However, they had to continue first. There were still far more baffling details and logic to sort through.