Chapter 374: The Gathering, Part IV

Huang Ande listened in silence as his brothers-in-arms voiced their discontents. He uttered not a word. By and large, their lives in Lingao were a litany of disappointments. Lacking any particular craft, they served as common soldiers or laborers, their days a cycle of thankless toil. Only Old Lü, it seemed, had prospered. Though Huang Ande was certain the chieftains had their reasons, these men, who had faced death at his side, felt a bitter sense of betrayal.

“Brother Huang,” said Cao Qing, “we ought to be your personal guard. We are brothers, forged in the crucible of war, who have crawled from the mounds of the dead with you. We are men you can trust. It would be a far better fate than languishing in some factory.”

Huang Ande knew the chieftains were wary of such bonds, of factions and private loyalties. “There are no personal soldiers in the Australian army,” he said quickly. “No household retainers. If you truly wish to enlist, you can sign up at the next recruitment. But I cannot say where you will be posted.”

He sensed a dangerous undercurrent in Huang Xiong’s words and decided to press the point.

“Brothers! Your fortunes may have soured, your careers stalled, but the chieftains have not forgotten your deeds. Did they not admit you to the training class? If they had truly cast you aside, you would be left to rot with the White Horse Team. Do you remember old Gao Sanleng?”

“How could I forget?” Huang Xiong replied, the memory stirring. “A sergeant in the security regiment, a fellow deserter from North Zhili. I fought alongside him at Baitu Village. I heard he was discharged after being wounded in the Battle of Chengmai.”

“I saw him last month,” Huang Ande said, pouring Huang Xiong a cup of wine. “He’s lost an arm, and his leg is lame. The chieftains have given him a post as a factory gatekeeper. Brother, your lot may be hard, but you are whole. You are an officer with a wife, and soon, a son. What does Gao Sanleng have? A lifetime of guarding a gate, and likely no hope of a family. And what of the brothers who fell in battle? Is your hardship greater than theirs?”

Huang Xiong drank his wine, his face a mask of contemplation. He seemed moved. Huang Ande pressed on. “I was not with the old security regiment, but I know many who died or were maimed. Our company went to Cuigang to sweep the graves. The slope was a forest of tombstones, row upon row. In death, a man claims but a small patch of earth. Truly, our own fate is far kinder, is it not?”

Huang Xiong nodded. “There is no comparison.”

Huang Ande slapped his thigh. “Precisely.” He surveyed the room. “Most of us here are from Penglai. As Brother Cao said, we crawled from a mountain of corpses, a sea of blood… Think of the civilians who perished, of our families and friends trapped in Dengzhou… We are alive. We have food in our bellies and a safe place to sleep. For that, we should be grateful.”

His words seemed to soothe their turbulent spirits. He added a few more words of comfort, speaking of the chieftains’ burgeoning enterprise and the death throes of the Great Ming. For those who worked hard, he assured them, a bright future awaited.

As they were chatting, a knock came at the door. Cao Qing slapped his thigh. “That’ll be the slug-a-bed, Old Lü.”

Huang Ande opened the door to find Old Lü standing there, a large food box in one hand, a jar of wine in the other, a sheepish grin on his face. “Brother Huang, Brother Cao, Fourth Brother Zhu, sister-in-law—” He entered, greeting each person in turn, even Huang Xiong and Wang Bao’er, whom he did not know, with the chieftains’ curious bow.

“Old Lü, you’re a laggard and no mistake!” Cao Qing chided him.

“Ah, Brother Cao, it’s not for want of trying. The factory closed late today. I came as fast as my legs would carry me. The roads are wide and flat, thank goodness, or I’d be even later.”

“Hmph. You’re living well and have forgotten your brothers. We fought our way out of Dengzhou together, yet you’re the one who’s landed on his feet. You were the first to reach Lingao, the first to become a full-time employee. Tell us, which chieftain’s palm did you grease?”

“Nonsense,” Huang Ande interjected. “The brothers know Old Lü is no flatterer. Besides, the chieftains have no taste for it.”

“Brother Li, you do me a great wrong,” said Old Lü. “On that Korean isle, we were all squatting in the dirt when a chieftain asked who among us could read, who had a trade. I remembered my mother teaching me a few characters, and my family had been blacksmiths, so I stood. The chieftain brought me to Lingao, shaved my head, and made me a full-timer in the great ironworks.”

“Then you shouldn’t be hoarding your good fortune,” the men grumbled. Old Lü merely smiled his silly smile and took a seat, offering no reply.

“Old Lü, wet your throat,” a soft voice said at his side.

“Yue’e… ah, no, sister-in-law, my thanks.” He took the cup awkwardly, sipped, and set it down, not daring to meet Zhu Si’s intense gaze.

Back in the Dengzhou camp, Zheng Yue’e had often called upon Old Lü for his smithing skills. Her kindness to him, a stark contrast to her treatment of other men, had not gone unnoticed by Zhu Si.

The men, citing the chieftains’ rules, declared that Old Lü’s tardiness must be punished with three cups of wine. They forced three full glasses of jackfruit spirits—what Xue Ziliang grandly called ‘jackfruit brandy’—down his throat. The liquor loosened his tongue. “Brothers, Brother Huang, I did not mean to be late. I am busy from dawn till dusk. Save for meals, I have not a moment to myself.”

He seemed to relax, taking the chopsticks Wang Bao’er offered him and chewing on a piece of roast duck. “And the chieftains are strict masters. They despise tardiness and early departures. Be late by half an incense stick’s burning, and you’re fined. You all know I have a family to feed. A fine means a hungry mouth at home.” He smacked his lips and took a piece of sausage. The men, knowing he spoke the truth, lost their desire to tease him.

The wine made Old Lü garrulous. “They say the pay is good at the ironworks, but you have to be alive to spend it. Men die there every month, and in the strangest of ways! Just yesterday, Old Chou, a loader, was pushing his cart when he clutched his chest and collapsed. By the time anyone reached him, he was gone. And he was strong as an ox. If it weren’t for my family, I’d have quit long ago…”

He raised his cup. “For pleasant work, I’d take being a blacksmith in the Penglai camp. It was busy, aye, but not so… relentless. We’d work for a spell, then rest for a few days. If there was no work, we could sleep all day, and no one would say a word.”

Cao Qing snorted. “A fine sentiment. Have you forgotten being so starved you nearly fainted into the furnace while casting cannonballs for the officials?”

“I haven’t forgotten, I haven’t forgotten,” Old Lü said quickly. “If only the Great Ming had a few decent officials. It would be a fine thing, if everyone had food and could serve in peace.”

This struck a chord with the others.

“Aye, who wants to leave their home? And this climate… hot and damp. I’m still not used to it.”

“I think the emperor is wise. He had the traitor Wei Zhongxian arrested as soon as he took the throne. But the officials beneath him are monsters. They don’t treat us soldiers as men…”

“What does Wei Zhongxian’s fate matter to you? He’s dead, but we’re still the same poor bastards. The generals are still generals, and we’re still owed our pay. What good did it do you?”

“And that is why the Great Ming is finished,” Huang Ande said. “All we common folk want is a full belly, clothes on our backs, a safe place to sleep, a wife, and children. But under the Zhu emperor, even that is a dream.”

Huang Xiong nodded. “My brother speaks the truth. Why else would I, a good military officer, come to this place? It was not by choice.”

Wang Qisuo asked, his curiosity piqued, “Brother Huang, you were a military officer of the court? Tell us your story.”

A flicker of pride crossed Huang Xiong’s face. Of all of them, he had held the highest rank in the Great Ming army. When he fled after killing a man, he was a Bazong—a minor officer, to be sure, but one who commanded his own men, wore armor, and rode a warhorse into battle.

He shook his head. “A mere Bazong. What kind of officer is that? I couldn’t even draw my pay, and I ended up killing a man by mistake.” He sighed. “It is not worth risking your life for the court.”

“Worthless or not, you were still an officer of the court. What are you now? A commoner in a cloth jacket,” Wang Bao’er muttered from the kitchen.

Huang Xiong’s face contorted with rage. “You ungrateful bitch!” he roared. “A few full meals and you’ve forgotten your own name! What are you babbling about?”

Silence fell in the kitchen, broken only by the sound of soft sobbing. Zheng Yue’e could be heard comforting her in a low voice. A chill descended upon the dinner table.

Huang Ande clapped Huang Xiong on the shoulder. “Brother, your wife’s thinking…”

Huang Xiong gave a wry smile and nodded. He lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and said in a low voice, “Brother, be careful in choosing a wife. Look at my predicament…” He sighed heavily. “But she is a good woman. She may not have wanted me, but she will be the mother of my child. We men must be tolerant.”

“A virtuous wife brings her husband few misfortunes, as the saying goes,” Huang Ande said softly. “With a mouth as unguarded as hers, you must be wary of disaster. We are all brothers here, but out there… you cannot be so sure.”