Chapter 756 – Homecoming (Part 4)

Fu Fu climbed a small mound and let the breeze cool him. He had walked most of the day under the sun and wanted to let the sweat dry. Not that he felt particularly tired—he had done farm work since childhood, and the ample rations and daily training and labor in the army had only made him stronger. A march of a few dozen li was nothing.

No ox-cart route ran from East Gate Market to Meiyang Village, but the road had been thoroughly improved. Footbridges had been put up along the way; low spots had been filled in; drainage ditches now lined either side; and gravel had been spread on the surface. Apart from insufficient width, the roadbed already met the standard for a simple country highway. Walking was no trouble at all for Fu Fu—after all, he did a five-kilometer cross-country run every week.

The winter wind in Lingao was not cold; rather, it was cool and pleasant. From the mound, the tawny road wound between scrub-covered hillocks and the paddies. Most of the second rice crop had already been harvested; winter wheat, broad beans, and various green-manure cover crops were now planted. This area was a priority zone for the Tiandihui's promotion of new agricultural methods.

This was a "new countryside" landscape the likes of which he had never seen—a little like the scenery in the "Australian picture cards" shown during political lessons. The "Australian villages" in those pictures were so beautiful they seemed like fairyland. Fu Fu had never dared believe that such lovely, prosperous villages existed anywhere in the world, or that fields could be so lush and handsome.

He still remembered the old roadside scenery: the moment you left the village behind, you were swallowed by fearsome, desolate moorland and barren hills. Grass along the track grew taller than a man, so dense that an adult who walked into it would vanish instantly. Feral dogs prowled the wasteland, uttering low, terrifying barks. Elders used to say those dogs dug up corpses from the graveyards to eat... Since childhood, Fu Fu had heard every kind of horror story about the wilderness.

The sprawling thickets that once blanketed the landscape had largely been cleared. Flat ground had mostly been converted to fields; only copses of timber remained on the slopes, and in some places saplings had been planted. Fu Fu had himself participated in "agricultural support" missions while in the army; he knew the hillside plantings were probably "economic forests"—fruit trees and the like.

In the distance, beyond this quiet pastoral scene, stood a large cluster of buildings. That was Meiyang Village. Fu Fu felt a twinge of puzzlement. Had Meiyang Village always been that big?

He had been sold to the village when he was seven or eight and had scarcely left it before being sent off to soldier. Fu Bu'er himself rarely ventured out—a market visit once a week and a half, and perhaps one or two trips a year to the county seat. All told, Fu Fu had gone "far away" fewer than five or six times. Meiyang Village was his entire world. On the rare breaks from labor, he and the other children would climb a small knoll two or three li from the village, gaze at the distant landscape, and argue about what they might find if they kept walking in a given direction. A single visit to the county seat—too far to see the village from—had already been an eye-opening experience.

When he was conscripted, the village had bound all the assigned men with ropes before marching them out. Every village did this to keep draftees from fleeing. Fu Fu and the other conscripts were tied together and escorted, stumbling over pitted roads, by a detachment of village men armed with machetes and wooden spears. He still remembered Fu Yizhuang, eldest son of Fu Yousun, who led the party, constantly running the rust-spotted machete blade along their necks: Escape and you lose your head on the spot. The icy edge had sent chills through him—body and soul. When they left, the mistress had let him wear only a pair of ragged shorts and a shirt reduced to tatters. Not even straw sandals. Fu Bu'er had said, "Let him at least wear shoes." His wife had snapped, "He's as good as dead the moment he goes—what does he need shoes for?"

And so Fu Fu had walked barefoot for days, surviving on a few raw sweet potatoes and gulps of unboiled water each day. Nearly every conscript had diarrhea. One village orphan was too young; his diarrhea was so severe that he died on the road before they reached Bopu. Fu Yousun's eldest son dug a shallow pit by the roadside, buried him, and grumbled, "Why couldn't he have waited until Bopu to die?"

Fu Fu had dragged himself along, convinced he was marching to his death, until at last he arrived at Bopu and became a soldier in the Australian army.

Fu Fu knew nothing of what was called "the turns of fortune in life." In his vocabulary—lacking as it was in abstraction—he was merely thankful to have "had some good luck." Military life had opened another door, leading him into a world he had never imagined, could never have dreamed of.

"I never thought I'd see a day like this." Fu Fu removed his pith helmet. When he had left Meiyang Village, he hadn't expected to return alive—let alone return in such glory. It turned out that soldiering, too, could mean "coming home in brocade robes," just as in the operas. At the thought, a smug grin spread across his face. Imagining the expression on the mistress's face when she saw him filled him with satisfaction.

Fu Fu quickened his pace toward the village. He could hardly wait to see Fu Yijin. With Fu Yijin there, even the mistress didn't seem so hateful.

He walked along the road, glancing at the fields on either side. Many had been fitted with irrigation ditches and sluice gates—the army had contributed to these water-control projects. Two-thirds of Fu Fu's "agricultural support" assignments had been spent on irrigation construction.

Near the village entrance, he saw two girls descending the slope beside the road. One wore blue "work clothes"; the other was dressed in the local village style. Both carried rattan baskets on their backs, stuffed with tender cut grass. One of them also held a basket containing rice gleaned from the paddies along with chaff.

From their gait and build, Fu Fu recognized them at once: Fu Yijin and Fu Xi. He called out, "Sister Yijin! Little Xi!"

The two girls stopped and stared at him in astonishment.

Seeing them halt, Fu Fu was certain. He hurried toward them. As he drew near, he could see even more clearly—who else could it be? Fu Yijin still wore her braid, bangs across her forehead, a wooden hairpin tucked in. Round-cheeked, her dark but bright eyes blinked at him in surprise. Truly a girl changes by the day—after two years, she looked entirely different.

"Sister Yijin, it's me!" he called out.

Fu Yijin and Fu Xi continued to stare at the strange soldier, unable to place him.

Fu Fu walked up, removed his pith helmet, and smiled. "It's me! I'm Xiao Fu!"

At last recognition dawned. This sturdy, dashing young man was Fu Fu. Fu Xi took two eager steps forward. "You're Brother Xiao Fu! How did you get back from the army? I never imagined—"

Fu Fu grinned, unsure what to say. Fu Xi was wearing the work clothes common around Bopu—curious, since only village cadres and the like dressed that way; ordinary country folk did not. Had she gone to work for the leadership, too?

Fu Xi noticed him eying her outfit. "I'm studying at the National School. This is the uniform they issued—we wear it during work-study and agricultural-study periods." She pointed to the cloth tag on her chest; sure enough, it read "National School" along with the school motto: Knowledge Is Power.

"The school is on a harvest recess, so I came back to the village," Fu Xi said. Her face was a mix of surprise and delight as she tugged at his arm, looking him over. "You've gotten so impressive—if you hadn't called out, I never would have recognized you." She nudged Fu Yijin. "Isn't that right, Sister Yijin?"

Fu Yijin smiled shyly, a blush creeping over her cheeks. She fumbled for words, and after a long pause managed only: "You must be tired from the road. Let's head home first."

"Is Master Fu at home?"

"Father's in the fields. Manager Wan came by—he's giving everyone an agriculture lesson." Fu Yijin found Fu Fu's sudden shift to calling Fu Bu'er "Master" strange—it sounded like the address of a stranger. Yet she knew Fu Fu was no longer a bond-servant of the household. She gazed at him: taller, sturdier, skin a healthy bronze, hair cropped short in the Australian style. And that dashing web belt with the short sword dangling from it—she could not take her eyes away.

Was this really the bond-servant boy who used to till the fields and herd the ducks? Seeing his smile and the look in his eyes, Fu Yijin felt her heart pound. She suddenly found it hard to meet his gaze.

"Let's go—we'll head home together."

On the way, Fu Xi filled him in on the tax disturbance over a year ago and its aftermath.

"That old wretch Fu Yousun got put through the wringer by the leadership, and now he's dirt-poor. He can't even throw his weight around in his own house anymore." Fu Yousun had never been popular in the village and had feuded often with Fu Bu'er; the entire Fu Bu'er household disliked him. Fu Xi herself had taken more than a few blows from the old man's cane, so recounting his downfall gave her great satisfaction.

"Now our family's the richest in the village, and Master has been made village head!" she went on. "The estate is several times bigger than before. Manager Wan is really capable—practically turns stone into gold!" When she spoke of Wan Lihui, her face lit up with admiration bordering on worship.

"Did Master send you to school?"

"Yes. If we weren't short-handed at home, he'd have sent more of us. Hired labor is expensive now—not like the old days when you could get someone to work just for a full meal."

(End of Chapter)