Chapter 1988 - A Small Meeting of Recalling Bitterness

"Yes, Chief!"

"Not this again!" Wang Qiyi harbored profound unenthusiasm for this "Militarized Management" protocol. He could never comprehend certain Senators' obsession with etiquettes like heel-clicking and formal acknowledgments—the rituals always felt uncomfortable. "I'm departing first. You chat and familiarize yourselves."

Wang Qiyi's departure brought Zeng Juan's anxieties to the fore. The Chief's instruction had clearly delegated authority to him for tonight—but why? Regardless of seniority or background, command shouldn't fall to a buck private. Simply because his seat was positioned closest to the Chief?

"Slurp slurp... Ah, I was suffocating just now!" Before Zeng Juan could ponder carefully, soup-drinking sounds shattered the office silence.

"Comfortable!" Xu Zhewei banged the empty bowl on the table, rolled up his sleeves, and wiped his mouth with evident satisfaction. "What are you staring at? Never seen a man drink soup properly?"

"Haha... What kind of laoye are you!"

"Brother Xu, were you truly suffocating that badly just now? It couldn't have been that extreme."

"Who says not extreme? I always drink soup like this. During dinner with the Chief, I observed you all taking delicate sips. I don't know that refinement—could only chew dry rice, didn't dare drink one mouthful of soup."

"Brother Xu appears a straightforward person at first glance." Zeng Juan turned to ladle soup from the bucket for Xu Zhewei.

"I'll manage myself... Team Leader Zeng is too polite."

"It's nothing—this bucket sits close to me. Hearing Brother Xu's accent, you're a Northerner?"

"Correct, I'm from Shandong, Changyi County of Laizhou Prefecture." Xu Zhewei shoveled rice without raising his head, clearly ravenous.

"Laizhou? That's three or four thousand li from Guangzhou Prefecture." Zeng Juan set down his chopsticks, regarding Xu Zhewei with some surprise. Thanks to thorough reading of Pirate Studies magazines back then, he possessed reasonable knowledge of Chinese geography. He knew not only that Laizhou was in Shandong, but also that this was where Kong Youde had launched his rebellion. However, that wasn't what surprised him. Another question had lain dormant in his heart for years: The Chiefs originated from Qiongzhou, further south than Guangzhou—why were there so many Northerners, particularly Shandong natives, among the cadres?

"Traveling all the way from Shandong must have been arduous."

"Manageable. Rode the Senate's ships. Though seasickness plagued me somewhat, I didn't suffer excessively. Arrived peacefully in Qiongzhou."

"By ship?" Zeng Juan's eyes involuntarily widened. Though Guangzhou hosted numerous foreign merchants and virtually every family maintained some connection to maritime commerce, in most—no, in everyone's—eyes, ocean shipping constituted a nine-deaths-one-life enterprise. People or cargo could vanish instantly. These Chiefs actually dared employ ships to transport people from Shandong to Qiongzhou, and transported so many! How much suffering endured along that passage.

"Ocean voyages must involve considerable discomforts. Could elderly and children in your family endure it?"

"Family? Long gone. Originally not a wealthy household—hungry one meal, full the next. Once soldier chaos erupted, what wasn't starved or frozen to death got killed by rebel soldiers. I originally had a wife—she fell behind during our flight, was violated to death. Only I escaped alone." Xu Zhewei continued shoveling rice without raising his head. "Damn it, truly can't get accustomed to this rice. Mantou are satisfying—gnawing one in each hand!"

Zeng Juan felt instant embarrassment. He recalled how before the Senate liberated Guangzhou, he and his companions had debated this Shandong pacification strategy while strolling outside the city walls, arguing methods to quell rebellion fastest. At that time, according to Australian magazine reports, Rebel Army and Great Ming Government Army see-sawed around Laizhou, both sides suffering heavy casualties. The four of them had stood on an earth mound guiding the country with vigor, quite proud of their strategic brilliance. Now confronting a living Shandong survivor—a person whose family had been broken, who barely escaped rebel hands—made that finger-pointing at rivers and mountains seem utterly ridiculous.

"What?" Xu Zhewei set down his bowl, looking at Zeng Juan, who didn't know how to respond. "Nothing! The dead cannot resurrect. That son of a bitch Kong Youde had his head chopped by the Senate—avenged us. I'll follow the Senate for life... What did Chief Wei say? Fight across the Yangtze River to liberate all China!"

"Hahaha..."

"Giggle giggle..."

"What's so amusing?"

"You didn't go become a soldier—ran here to play with abacuses instead."

"Sister Chu, don't laugh. Not to boast, but with my physique I was mobilized to join the army immediately upon entering the factory." Xu Zhewei unconsciously thrust out his chest, straightening his clothes. "Who knew some Senator declared playing abacuses has more qi than holding guns—they sent me to vocational school to study finance and tax."

Actually, Xu Zhewei's physical examination result had been "Grade C." According to standards, Grade A meant "Qualified for Enlistment," Grade B "Reserve Enlistment Qualified," and Grade C was "Unsuitable for Queue Service." Not only unsuitable for queue service—even factory apprentice training didn't want him. Finally, because he'd learned abacus work for several years, he entered the accounting vocational class.

But he was young and appeared quite robust. Being rejected by the physical examination felt profoundly shameful, so he strictly claimed having been mobilized to study.

"Sister Chu? You're a Guangzhou local, correct? How did you simply come to this Finance and Tax Bureau? I heard you have a daughter studying in Lingao?"

"Like you—fell into distress." The smile on Chu Xiaoran's face vanished instantly. She lowered her head, picking at kale and chewing slowly.

For Chu Xiaoran, her pain wasn't displacement, nor the deaths of husband and daughter, but rather over twenty years of kinship proving thin as paper before money—a hole blown through with a single breath.

"Sister Chu, don't be sorrowful. I shouldn't have spoken carelessly..." Seeing her expression, Xu Zhewei said hurriedly.

"It's nothing—old matters from the past. Stifled in my heart for years; saying it aloud is nothing."

Her father had been an old Tongsheng—a child student. Though family circumstances weren't good, he'd loved her dearly, teaching her to read since childhood. After marriage, the household was prosperous—husband singing, wife harmonizing. Though ten-plus years of marriage produced only two daughters, her husband hadn't minded. The family of four was harmonious. Who knew heaven wouldn't fulfill wishes. Her husband suddenly contracted malignant cold, lingered taking medicine over half a year, finally let go and departed. Meager family property sold away completely, only one house remaining—yet coveted by her mother-in-law and brother-in-law. Excusing that she had no son and would definitely remarry in future, they drove her and her daughter from the house immediately after the First Seven Days.

"...In-laws refusing to keep me was expected—nothing surprising. What I never anticipated: returning to my maiden home proved equally futile. My sister-in-law was equally ruthless. Forget about keeping us—she refused even one meal." Chu Xiaoran said, "I'd always thought maiden home was perpetual reliance. Whenever matters arose, my brother and nephew never lacked shares. Whatever difficulties they faced, I always helped if possible—who expected such outcome!"

Chu Xiaoran had nowhere to turn. Her elder daughter suffered fright; after days traveling her body burned hot, she spoke nonsense. Plus lacking clothes and food—despite Chu Xiaoran crying her tears dry, she couldn't keep the girl. The child died in an inn. This tossing consumed the last soft goods on her person. Driven from the inn, she was reduced to begging.

"...Speaking of suffering—that was truly bitter. Desperate to beg, yet even becoming a beggar's wife required money." Chu Xiaoran rarely disclosed this normally. "Big Bone wouldn't permit registration without payment. Without registration, going out to beg meant beatings. Perhaps kidnapping by flower-patters [kidnappers]... That was truly calling heaven with no answer..."

Yao Yulan nodded sympathetically. "I understand this." Like Chu Xiaoran, she too possessed experience of entire family falling into distress and displacement. Despair at dead ends was deeply familiar.

"...At that time my daughter was so hungry her eyelids barely opened. I was utterly disheartened—simply found grass rope, bound myself and child together. I'd witnessed entire families jumping into rivers multiple times; never expected my own turn."

Yao Yulan wiped tears with her handkerchief, past events from those years flooding back. Especially her fiancé's withdrawal of betrothal—thinking of it even now filled her with resentment.

"...Unexpectedly my daughter was shocked awake by water, shouting for help, saying she didn't want to die—my heart softened and I didn't die... Thinking again: since I didn't even fear death, why fear living? Thinking this, I returned from the water. Dragging my daughter, seeing a large restaurant by the roadside, I simply barged in. Beating me, I didn't depart; scolding me, I didn't depart... Finally some Fat Young Master showed kind heart, gave us mother and daughter a large bowl of meat rice, and instructed the waiter to send us to Cihui Hall—sigh, pity I was so muddled then, didn't even ask our benefactor's name!"

"Sister Chu, you're returning home gloriously now. This benefactor—might as well verify slowly." Zeng Juan felt quite awkward in conversation, because those present were basically "Bitter Big Hate Deep," "Fell into Distress" cases saved by the Senate. Though his family circumstances before examinations weren't good, they fell far short of genuine distress. Thus he had no resonance and felt a kind of exclusionary awkwardness. Unlike Huang Ping, who possessed genuine Fangcaodi [refugee camp] background, he wanted specially to integrate into the group. Catching this chance, he interjected: "Though his name's unknown, since he ate at that restaurant, he must be a regular customer—restaurant waiters are all human spirits, definitely know his name. When we're free, we'll inquire—certainly we'll discover..."

"That's a method!" Yao Yulan's gossip heart erupted. "I think we should do precisely that! Once we finish this matter, we'll go find the person for Sister Chu!"

"Correct! That sister-in-law and those in-laws of yours—they must also be fixed up properly! Let them experience Dog Eyes Look People Low!" Xu Zhewei brimmed with righteous indignation. "If they operate shops, investigate to death! If they possess real estate, examine their Deed Tax! I don't believe they can be completely innocent! Find some excuse, fine them to bankruptcy, then put them inside to eat lawsuits!"

"Wait, wait—this is excessive, excessive." Huang Ping hadn't spoken previously; now he shook his head. "We must act according to law, cannot enforce from positions of venting private anger—the Chiefs' good scriptures, we can't read askew."

Huang Ping's status was higher; everyone naturally found refutation inconvenient. They only declared that if the parties bumped into their hands, they absolutely wouldn't spare them—venting anger for Sister Chu. The group spoke excitedly. Only Chu Xiaoran ate her rice silently alone.

(End of Chapter)