Chapter 416: Street Parade Display

In the evening, the shift‑end bell at the Steel Rolling Mill rang unusually crisp.

Workers poured out of the Workshop gates in groups of three or five, heading home. Their steps were lighter than usual today, and the murmuring gossip sounded like water splashing in a hot oil pot, crackling everywhere.

"Did you hear? Xu Damao has been suspended!"

"Already heard! The Revolutionary Committee office just posted a notice: suspended for reflection!"

"Deserved! Let him brag! He was only deputy director for a few days, and his tail already stuck up to the sky!"

"I heard Director Li Ping'an gave the order himself; Xu Damao turned pale at the time…"

The chatter drifted in the dusk, floated into the Alley, into the Siheyuan, like dandelion seeds, taking root wherever they landed.

Yan Bu Gui was squatting at his own doorway, picking vegetables.

It was cold; the cabbage stalks were stiff, and he peeled them leaf by leaf, moving slowly as if to feel every vein.

San Dama came out of the house, lowering her voice: "Lao Yan, Xu Damao… fell."

Yan Bu Gui's hand paused, he didn't look up.

"Oh."

"I heard he was suspended, can't be the Revolutionary Committee deputy director anymore." San Dama leaned closer, voice even lower, "You think it's karma? He grabbed you with his front foot, and his back foot…"

"Say less." Yan Bu Gui cut her off, continuing to pick vegetables.

But his picking became faster, more brisk.

Inside, he felt like drinking well water in the midsummer heat, comfort spreading from within to out.

"Let you grab me! Let you wear the red badge! Let you force me to sweep the streets!"

"Serves him right!"

"There's a day for everything!"

But those words could only stay bottled up. He still wore the white badge of "Stinky Old Nine", reporting to the street daily to sweep leaves on two streets. His status sat there; he had to keep a low profile, living with his tail tucked.

Yet with his tail tucked, his heart still blossomed with joy.

Yan Bu Gui placed the selected vegetables into a basin, lifted it and walked toward the house. At the doorway, he glanced back toward Xu Damao's home.

The corner of his mouth curled up silently.

In the Jia household, Bang Geng was spitting wildly while bragging to Jia Zhangshi.

"Grandma, you didn't see! Li Ping'an flung the award certificates outward, and those kids all got scared! One by one they turned dejected, not daring to even let out a fart!"

Jia Zhangshi sat cross‑legged on the kang, holding a shoe sole, running a needle through her hair, passing through the thick layered sole.

"My grandson is the capable one!" she laughed, wrinkles forming, "Those little brats can't compare to my great‑grandson's insight?"

"Exactly!" Bang Geng puffed his chest, "Xu Damao still wants to use me as a gun, sending me to cause trouble at Li's house? Dream on! When I heard Li Ping'an was a combat hero, I immediately withdrew with my men! That's what you call a wise hero!"

He said it beautifully, as if those who were pinned by the certificates and fled dejectedly weren't him.

Jia Zhangshi nodded repeatedly: "Exactly, exactly! My grandson is clever! What is Xu Damao? The higher he climbs, the harder he falls! Now look, the deputy director hadn't even warmed up his seat before being suspended!"

She set the shoe sole down, leaned close to Bang Geng, eyes sparkling.

"Grandson, with Xu Damao fallen, among the young generals in this courtyard, aren't you the most capable?"

Bang Geng was startled, then quickly caught on.

"Right!"

With Xu Damao, that deputy director, gone, those young followers were leaderless!

If I could gather those people together, wouldn't I become the top figure of the Siheyuan?

Later maybe I could leverage Li Huaide's connections and become some kind of little boss…

The more Bang Geng thought, the more wonderful it seemed, and his smile couldn't be hidden.

Jia Zhangshi watched, also scheming in her mind.

If my grandson shines, wouldn't this grandma also bask in the glory?

From now on in the courtyard, let's see who still dares to look down on the Jia family!

In the back courtyard at Liu Haizhong's house, Er Da Ma had just washed his hair, combing in front of the mirror.

He combed meticulously, placing each strand back.

Er Da Ma was tidying the table, dishes clinking.

"Lao Liu, Xu Damao fell."

"Mm."

"You think… his deputy director position is now vacant?"

Liu Haizhong's combing hand paused.

In the mirror, his chubby face's eyes narrowed.

"Right."

Xu Damao fell, the deputy director spot is vacant.

Li Huaide must have to find someone to take over, right?

There are so many people in the factory; who is suitable?

Liu Haizhong set the comb down and turned.

"What about the little yellow fish at home?"

Er Da Ma was startled: "Why are you asking that?"

"Tomorrow, I'm going to see Director Li to report work." Liu Haizhong adjusted his collar, "And also… make a statement."

Er Da Ma understood, eyes brightening.

"You want to…"

"Xu Damao can be deputy director, why can't I?" Liu Haizhong puffed his belly, "In terms of seniority, I've worked in the factory for over twenty years! In terms of enlightenment, I read newspapers and study documents every day! In terms of ability…"

He paused briefly.

Ability, that matter, isn't easy to talk about.

But it doesn't matter.

If ability falls short, sincerity makes up for it.

The small yellow fish is sincerity.

"Find the thickest one," Liu Haizhong ordered, "Polish it up a bit."

Er Da Ma hurried off without delay.

Liu Haizhong turned back to the mirror, stared at his own reflection, and increasingly felt he had an official's look.

Thick brows, big eyes, square face, thick earlobes…

That's a lucky visage!

How come I never noticed before?

Yi Zhonghai fetched a small stool and sat at his own doorway.

Holding a teacup in his hand, he sipped tea leisurely.

The last glimmer of sunset faded from the horizon, and dusk closed in.

The courtyard was bustling, voices from east and west families buzzing into the ears.

Yi Zhonghai pretended not to hear.

He took a sip of tea, smacked his lips, and stared at the Old Locust Tree in the courtyard.

The leaves had long since fallen; bare branches stretched toward the sky like an old man's gaunt hand.

Yi Zhonghai is fifty‑eight this year; in two years he can retire.

He now wants nothing else but to quietly get through these two years, then collect his pension, enjoy his old age, and tease the birds—if he can still keep birds.

In the courtyard these affairs, Xu Damao's ups and downs, Li Ping'an's open and covert struggles, Liu Haizhong's lively thoughts, Bang Geng's hopping about…

What does it have to do with him?

He has long understood it.

This world is like a pot of boiling water; anyone who jumps in must shed a layer of skin.

A clever person should stand at the pot's edge, watch the commotion, and keep oneself safe.

Yi Zhonghai took another sip of tea.

The tea had grown a bit cool; he stood up and went back inside to add hot water.

As he turned, he caught sight of the direction of Xi Kua Yuan.

Li Ping'an's house lights just came on, a dim yellow glow spilling from the windows, warm.

Yi Zhonghai shook his head.

Young people, still too rigid.

Rigid things break easily.

Sha Zhu hummed a little tune as he came from the Central Courtyard.

He carried a netted basket in his hand, inside were two lunch boxes—leftover dishes from the cafeteria, which he brought back.

Seeing Yan Bu Gui at the doorway, he grinned.

"Third Elder, have you heard? Xu Damao's grandson fell again!"

Yan Bu Gui quickly waved his hand, "Zhuzi, lower your voice…"

"Afraid of what?" Sha Zhu shouted louder, "The whole courtyard knows! Xu Damao, up and down; I told you he has no destiny for office! Did you see? Only a few days, the deputy director's seat wasn't even warm, and it's already been knocked off!"

He spoke animatedly, his spittle nearly splattering Yan Bu Gui's face.

"If you ask me, this is a case of virtue not matching position, disaster is inevitable! What kind of person is Xu Damao? A petty man! When a petty man rises, can he last? No!"

Yan Bu Gui could only force a smile.

Sha Zhu grew more animated, "Tonight I'll drink two cups! Celebrate! Third Elder, would you like some too?"

"No, no," Yan Bu Gui hurriedly shook his head, "I've given up drinking."

In the past, Yan Bu Gui would have just followed Sha Zhu home, but now he's actually afraid of causing trouble.

Sha Zhu didn't force it, carrying the lunch boxes he walked toward the back courtyard.

He reached the Central Courtyard, deliberately slowed his pace, cleared his throat, so that Xu Damao in the back courtyard could hear.

"Alas, this person must accept fate! Whatever material one is, do the corresponding work! Don't spend all day like a toad dreaming of swan meat; falling down hurts a lot!"

Inside, Xu Damao was sulking in his chair; hearing this, he trembled with anger.

He wanted to rush out to argue with Sha Zhu, but as soon as his leg lifted, he put it down again.

It's not the right time now.

He is now a suspended, reflective person, a fallen phoenix—no, not even a phoenix, just a drowned dog.

A drowned dog can be kicked by anyone.

Xu Damao clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

Wang Cuihua returned from outside, carrying half a cabbage in her hand.

As soon as she entered, seeing Xu Damao's dead‑pan look, her anger flared.

She tossed the cabbage onto the floor.

"Xu Damao! Do you still have the face to sit there? Deputy Director! Deputy Director! Only a few days in, and you're already suspended! What use are you? Useless!"

Xu Damao jerked his head up, his eyes blood‑red.

"You shut up!"

"Me shut up?" Wang Cuihua, hands on hips, "On what right should I be silent? I married you—what for? For your crippled leg? For your lack of ability? After finally becoming a deputy director, before it even got warm it's gone! This life can't go on!"

"If you can't get through, then don't!" Xu Damao stood up and shouted back, "If you weren't still holding my confession letter, I'd have kicked you out long ago! Since you don't want to continue, fine! Hand me the confession letter, we divorce! Each goes their own way!"

Those words were like a knife, stabbing Wang Cuihua's heart.

She froze for two seconds, then burst into louder sobs.

"Xu Damao! You think that's nice! Divorce? If I divorce and go back to the countryside, won't I starve? I'd have to work the fields every day to earn work points, exhausted and still not enough to eat! I live in the city, food and clothing are not a worry—why should I divorce?"

She pointed at Xu Damao's nose.

"You just be my ox and horse for a lifetime, earning money! Want a divorce? Dream on!"

Xu Damao, furious, trembled all over, grabbed the tea jar on the table, ready to smash it.

But he raised his hand to midair, then lowered it.

If I smash it, I'll have to buy a new one.

Now I'm suspended; not sure if the salary will be paid, how could I afford a new one?

He sagged back into his chair, as if his bones had been pulled out.

Wang Cuihua kept crying and cursing, her voice sharp and piercing.

Xu Damao closed his eyes.

A buzzing rang in his ears, and only one thought filled his mind:

It's over.

All over.

In Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an was eating.

Lin Xueqing picked a piece of pickled vegetable for him.

"Ping'an, Xu Damao has been suspended,"

"Hmm," Li Ping'an scooped a mouthful of rice.

"Everyone in the courtyard is gossiping,"

"Let them talk,"

Lin Xueqing looked at her husband's calm face, about to speak but stopped.

Li Ping'an set down his bowl and wiped his mouth.

"Xueqing, you think, for a person like Xu Damao, is suspension enough?"

Lin Xueqing was startled.

"Otherwise?"

Li Ping'an smiled.

His smile was cold.

Like winter moonlight.

"Suspension is only the beginning," he said, "People like this are like weeds; a spring breeze will make them grow again. To eliminate them, you must pull them out by the roots."

He rose and walked to the window.

Outside, the night was thick.

The lights in Xu Damao's house were still on, and Wang Cuihua's sobs could be faintly heard.

Li Ping'an stared for a while, then turned.

"I'll step out for a moment."

"It's so late..."

"I have some business to take care of," Li Ping'an put on his coat, "You all go to sleep first, don't wait for me."

He pushed the door open and stepped out, merging into the night.

Lin Xueqing stood inside, watching her husband's silhouette, feeling an inexplicable tightness in her heart.

The midnight street was empty.

Only a lone streetlamp glowed, casting circles of dim yellow light on the ground.

Li Ping'an's steps were swift yet light.

Like a cat.

He held a kraft paper envelope in his hand; the envelope was bulging, packed with a stack of documents.

The dirty deeds Xu Damao had done over the years: when he was a Projectionist, he pocketed movie ticket money, had illicit affairs with widows, extorted, and carried out retaliatory attacks…

Each case, each incident, with time, location, and witness evidence, all clearly documented.

He hadn't brought them out before because the timing wasn't right.

Now, the timing has arrived.

Li Ping'an walked to the gate of the street office.

The main door was tightly shut, darkness inside.

He circled to the back wall, found a window crack—the old street office's windows weren't sealed tightly, leaving a finger-width gap.

He slipped the envelope through the gap.

The envelope fell onto the floor inside, making a faint 'thud' sound.

Li Ping'an didn't linger, turned and left.

After walking out a dozen meters, he glanced back.

The street office's sign glimmered with a cold white light under the moon.

Tomorrow morning, when the street director opens the office for work, he will see this letter.

Then, Xu Damao's good days would truly come to an end.

The next morning, the street office erupted in chaos.

Director Wang held that bundle of documents, his hands trembling.

This is outrageous!

Any one of Xu Damao's offenses is enough to fill a pot of liquor!

Especially in the current situation, we need to make an example and set the rules!

Director Wang, not daring to delay, immediately convened the street officials for a meeting.

At the meeting, the documents were circulated once.

Everyone read them with their hearts racing.

"This Xu Damao, his nerve is too great!"

"It must be dealt with severely!"

"I suggest we arrest him immediately, parade him through the streets for all to see, as a warning to others!"

It passed unanimously.

At nine a. m., Xu Damao was still sleeping at home.

He had argued with Wang Cuihua until midnight yesterday, and only fell into a drowsy sleep in the early hours.

He was dreaming of becoming deputy director when a sudden violent knock at the door jolted him awake.

"Xu Damao! Open the door!"

The voice was fierce.

Xu Damao jolted upright, his heart pounding.

He slipped on his shoes and went to open the door.

When the door opened, four or five people stood outside, all in Zhongshan suits, with red armbands on their arms.

At the front was Liu, the clerk of the Street Office.

"Xu Damao, come with us for a walk."

Xu Damao's legs went weak.

"Where… where are we going?"

"To the Street Office!" Liu gestured, "Take him away!"

Two people stepped forward, one on each side, restraining him.

Xu Damao tried to struggle, but the two were very strong, clamping him like iron tongs.

"On what grounds are you arresting me? I'm the deputy director of the Revolutionary Committee! I…"

"Deputy director?" Liu sneered, "You are now a person under suspension for reflection! Moreover, we received public reports; over the years you've committed illegal and disorderly acts, with solid evidence! No more talk, move!"

Xu Damao was dragged out of his house.

Wang Cuihua chased out of the house, and upon seeing the scene, her face turned deathly pale, unable to utter a sound.

People in the courtyard heard the commotion and all came out.

Seeing Xu Damao being seized by the Street Office staff, everyone felt lingering dread.

The courtyard of the Street Office was already surrounded by many people.

Xu Damao was forced inside and pressed to the center of the courtyard.

Director Wang stood on the steps, holding that document, reading it out item by item.

"Xu Damao, March 1958, privately withheld movie ticket money of twelve yuan and five jiao!"

"July 1962, had an illicit affair with Liu Caixia, a widow from Red Star Commune, was caught on the spot and wrote a confession!"

"1963…"

With each item read, a murmur rose from below.

Xu Damao lowered his head, trembling all over.

Cold sweat soaked his clothes.

When the reading finished, Director Lao Zhang waved his hand.

"Put a placard on him!"

Someone brought a placard made of cardboard, with two lines of large characters written in brush:

"Bad Element Xu Damao"

"Illegal and disorderly, morally corrupt"

The placard was hung with fine wire, looped around Xu Damao's neck.

The wire dug into his flesh, very painful.

But Xu Damao could not attend to the pain.

His mind was a blank.

It's over.

This time it's truly over.

The public parade began.

Xu Damao was led by two men, walking at the front.

A placard hung around his neck, and he also held a broken bronze gong—to be struck by himself.

"Dang!"

The gong's clang was shrill.

Both sides of the street were packed with onlookers.

People pointed and whispered, discussions flaring.

"Isn't that Xu Damao from the Steel Rolling Mill?"

"I heard you used to be a deputy director!"

"Serves you right! People like that have to be dealt with!"

Someone spat at him.

Someone threw rotten vegetable leaves.

Xu Damao lowered his head and walked forward step by step.

His leg limped even worse, each step feeling like stepping on a knife's tip.

The glare of the sun shone on the sign and on his face.

The scar on his face looked especially ferocious in the sunlight.

No matter how ferocious, it can't surpass the ferocity of the human heart.

Xu Damao suddenly recalled, long ago, when he first became a Projectionist.

Those were such glorious days.

Wherever he went, someone offered him cigarettes, someone treated him to a meal.

The girls looked at him with smiles in their eyes.

And now?

Now he is a bad element, a street rat.

Xu Damao closed his eyes.

Two streams of tears ran down his cheeks.

Mixed with saliva and the juice of the rotten leaves, they dripped onto the sign on his chest.

The three characters "bad element" became soaked and blurred.