Chapter 921: For Whom

Liu Feng wrapped the cloth around his waist again, propped himself up with both hands, and walked slowly around the room: "I have to say, your massage really works."

Wang Yan washed his hands and smiled: "Tomorrow I'll prepare some topical plasters for you, along with some herbal decoction for internal use; I'll come over these next few days to give you more massages, and you should improve significantly. However, returning to your former condition is impossible, so just rest well."

While speaking, he handled the gas cylinder and began cooking.

By this time, liquefied petroleum gas had been promoted for many years; apart from being expensive, it had no other drawbacks, with a single cylinder costing nearly four yuan. Liu Feng and He He Xiaoping naturally rarely used it; both ate at the canteen and seldom cooked at home. Yet even lighting a coal stove, the cost of buying coal was actually not much different.

Liu Feng tried his best to control himself, avoiding looking at the flaming stove to spare his heartache. Of course, it wasn't that he was reluctant; after all, Wang Yan had brought so many things and had always cared for him. He was simply habitually frugal, habitually reluctant to spend, and habitually pained. The burning fire, the released gas—all of that was money...

With one person and one stove, cooking naturally couldn't be fast. Yet he was extremely deft, stewing dishes, mixing cold plates, slicing assorted platters, and still finding time to light a cigarette for Liu Feng and sit there chatting.

The aroma of stewed meat filled the room, and Liu Feng asked: "Just now I heard Hao Li Shuwen and the others say that you're going to the Military-Political University for further studies next week?"

"Mm, before the New Year the Political Commissar mentioned it briefly, saying a senior leader had secured a quota for me; these past six months I'd almost forgotten, never expecting the senior leader still remembered. The notification letter arrived long ago; I'm to enroll and start classes immediately upon arrival, assigned to the Political Department. They also said that upon my return, I'll be promoted to full company commander. I even inquired about your matter; the Political Commissar said you've been promoted to deputy company commander and nominated as a Disaster Relief Model, and that in some time you'll go to Jingcheng to receive commendation."

As Wang Yan spoke, he met the resentful gazes of Hao Li Shuwen and Xiao Xiao Suizi; neither could bear to part with him.

But the times were different after all, and the work they did was different too. If not so, why would they meet only a few times throughout the entire year, suppressing their feelings to exchange just a few words? And each time, they had to secretly find a place just to spend a little while together.

The Political Commissar might speak idle words, but he wouldn't speak too many of them. During the New Year, the Political Commissar said to pay attention to influence, which meant the influence was already significant, even that some voices had emerged; otherwise, why would he bother with so much nonsense? If they didn't pay attention, then trouble would truly arrive.

Fortunately, it was already this year; after this year passed, things would relatively improve considerably. Hao Li Shuwen and Xiao Xiao Suizi were neither fools nor deaf; how could they not know about the many idle gossip and slander? Hearing it was unpleasant, yet they were all enduring the pressure, acting as if nothing were wrong.

No one wished to be the one who actively yielded, but little did they know, where did Wang Yan need their yielding...

So Wang Yan merely made faces at the two of them, earning a pair of eye-rolls in return, and chuckled.

He He Xiaoping kept her eyes on her nose and her nose on her heart, while Liu Feng pretended not to see: "So does that mean we two might still meet in Jingcheng when the time comes?"

Wang Yan nodded with a smile: "After I arrive at the Military-Political University, I'll write you a letter; once you settle in Jingcheng, give me a call. I've heard the roast duck at Quanjude and the mutton at Donglaishun are quite famous; when the time comes, let's go try them."

"Only you dare to dream; I've been to Jingcheng so many times, yet I've never even tasted what roast duck flavors like."

"Then we must eat it even more; aren't you two both from Jingcheng? When the time comes, let Liu Feng bring two back for you, and don't forget He Xiaoping either. Hey, stop your nagging."

Liu Feng uttered an "Ah," then smiled: "Alright, anyway, the debt I owe you can never be fully repaid. When debts are many, one worries less; when lice are many, one feels no itch. You're the rich boss; whatever you say goes."

Hao Li Shuwen laughed: "What you said is right; he has money, so he certainly doesn't miss our little bit; we must target this local tyrant."

Xiao Xiao Suizi was speechless, choking slightly, and retorted: "Your analogy is truly excellent."

"Just approve it directly for me, instead of 'targeting local tyrants'."

Wang Yan extinguished the cigarette in his hand: "I reckon it's about time; I'd better hurry and cook. Chat a bit longer, and I'll be expelled from the ranks."

The fragrance of braised pork had already spread; the comrades and their families in the nearby regiment were truly suffering. Master Wang wielded the ladle, frying, stir-frying, boiling, and deep-frying, preparing a table of eight dishes; Wang Yan brought some wine and drank with Liu Feng. Amidst the five of them laughing and talking, the eight dishes were swept away like wind scattering clouds, leaving Liu Feng not even a chance to save any for a second meal...

"I'm going to the Military-Political University and will write letters to you; why the long faces? In a couple of days, aren't you going out on tour again? See, even if I didn't leave, we'd barely meet a few times throughout the year. What did I say? Parting is the norm; relax."

After leaving Liu Feng and his wife's home, Hao Li Shuwen and Xiao Xiao Suizi's spirits remained low; even though they had eaten plenty just now, it didn't lessen their gloom at all, so Wang Yan spoke thus to comfort them.

"If only you weren't so talented." Hao Li Shuwen's words gained Xiao Xiao Suizi's agreement.

Perhaps at this moment, both of them thought the same: without talent, he wouldn't be so busy, and they could see him every day. Or even, he might be closely involved with just one of them...

Wang Yan shook his head and smiled: "Before I had any talent, I had already been in our troupe for a year."

After processing the meaning behind his words, Hao Li Shuwen irritably punched him: "You're annoying; you used to be so quiet and unnoticeable, who knew you'd suddenly become so active? And you say that about me? I'll beat you to death."

Xiao Xiao Suizi, however, seriously reflected on this issue; Wang Yan's talent was absolutely an indispensable factor, coupled with his own personal charm that made him shine. No matter how one looked at it, she had to admit that her fondness for Wang Yan definitely did not originate in that storage room; that was merely the beginning that brought them closer.

After some banter, Wang Yan said: "Once I reach the Military-Political University, I'll write to you, but this time you two must reply. Write me many pleasant things; the central theme must express your deep longing for me."

Xiao Xiao Suizi scolded playfully: "Pah, 'deep longing' indeed."

"Exactly, you shameless rogue," Hao Li Shuwen maintained her usual phrasing.

Yet under the moonlight, their faces had warmed, flushed red.

In those times, even the tiniest hints of ambiguity could stir a Miss's heart, causing her to recall it repeatedly for a long time; whenever she remembered, a touch of shy embarrassment would inevitably arise.

Wang Yan knew very well that both of them harbored deep resentment toward him, yet their feelings toward each other were complex. The reason they could still remain together as a trio was that they were waiting for him to make a choice.

The three of them thus strolled slowly, laughing and chattering as they returned. Wang Yan walked in the middle, Xiao Xiao Suizi on the left, and Hao Li Shuwen on the right; under the moonlight, their shadows stretched very long...

Meeting Lin Lin Dingding once again, she possessed the same charm; within her eloquent eyes remained that same mixture of rejection and welcome. And what hadn't changed was her necessity to sidle up upon meeting, to tug and pull, to grope and feel.

She hugged Wang Yan's arm tightly: "Today I saw you talking with Hao Li Shuwen, and then both she and Xiao Xiao Suizi became unhappy?"

"Let go first before speaking, otherwise I truly can't explain clearly."

"Aiya, it's been so long, and you still haven't gotten used to it? It's rare to see you once; I want to be closer to you. Let me properly smell your scent, so that after you leave, I can miss you for a long time again; just like now, it feels as though you never left."

Quite skilled... Wang Yan raised an eyebrow, yet still forcefully withdrew his hand and stepped back half a pace: "A senior leader fought to secure for me... I depart next week."

"Ah~~"

As Lin Lin Dingding uttered "Ah," she crowded closer again: "Does that mean I won't see you for a whole year?"

Ignoring Wang Yan's attempts to push her away, she insistently hopped up and kissed Wang Yan, then tightly hugged his arm against her chest: "But you've advanced too, which is a good thing. So after you arrive in Jingcheng, could you write me a letter? Not many; just one after half a year would suffice. Just like now, don't we also meet only once every half year or so? Don't you agree?"

As if! How could Wang Yan possibly write? That would create evidence. If he insanely showed it to Hao Li Shuwen and Xiao Xiao Suizi, everything would be finished...

He said: "Alright, it's getting late; hurry back and rest."

"Do you find me that annoying?"

Wang Yan answered a different question: "I'm too tired."

"True, you traveled half a day, then engaged in sweet nothings with Hao Li Shuwen and Xiao Xiao Suizi, and also drank with Liu Feng." Lin Lin Dingding let out a long sigh, finally releasing Wang Yan: "Go then, rest well."

Wang Yan uttered an "Mm," held her gaze for three seconds, then turned and left without looking back.

Watching Wang Yan's figure disappear, Lin Lin Dingding instantly lost her smile; dejected, she exhaled a long breath, and as if venting, fiercely kicked at the weeds on the ground. After a while like this, her gaze became even more determined.

It must be that their contact wasn't deep enough, causing Wang Yan to become numb and immune to such tugging and pulling, losing all attraction. Next time, she must increase contact, she thought thus, affirming herself...

No matter how much reluctance, gatherings inevitably end in separation. The next day, after breakfast, the Song and Dance Troupe departed once again. This marked the end of a reunion after six months; the next gathering would not occur until a year later.

Over the following days, Wang Yan packed his luggage and also attended to Liu Feng; as he had previously stated, he bought medicine to prepare topical plasters, arranged some herbal decoction for internal use, and performed massages for him over several days.

Liu Feng's condition improved dramatically; the blue-purple bruises that hadn't subsided for over a month faded significantly within just a few days, restoring his ability to care for himself—or rather, improving it. Previously, he could actually move, but the pain drenched him in sweat, making it very inconvenient. Political Commissar Ning Shan had granted He He Xiaoping leave, so she had been caring for him at home. Later, as his condition improved considerably, she returned to dancing, leaving only Liu Feng moving slowly about the house.

He was precisely that kind of person, or rather, in this era there were many like him, and decades later such people had not diminished. The collective comes first, the individual second. If one can endure, one endures; if one cannot, one grits one's teeth and holds on. From the small to the large, from the individual to the whole, it is precisely such people who support China's backbone.

Because he hadn't yet seen the book he had written, he went to Fan Xinhua Bookstore and bought a set. A long novel of 1.6 million characters, comprising five volumes, totaled five yuan. This price was quite expensive, yet still reasonable; after all, each book contained over 300,000 characters, quite thick, and moreover, having received widespread acclaim from all sectors, the listed price wasn't high; the cost was higher simply due to the large character count.

Compared to later hardcover editions, it was naturally less exquisite, yet still quite good. The cover featured a crimson background, with the large black characters "14th Army" written in wild cursive calligraphy; below, following a "—", came his name, in a comparatively smaller font size. Yet not inferior to the wild cursive "14th Army," it was equally vigorous and majestic, grand and imposing; that was his previous signature, cut out and printed on.

Opening the flyleaf, one found the recommendation from the editor-in-chief of the People's Literature Publishing House, recounting a brief exchange with him, detailing the prior review and publication process, along with comments from many others. Following this was the preface he had written himself at the beginning, explaining his original intention for writing the book and recounting stories from his performances, finally ending with 'August 1975 at the... Regiment of the 14th Army,' after which the main text began.

After roughly flipping through it once, he tossed it to Liu Feng for him to read and pass the time. He specifically signed the book and wrote down the date, telling Liu Feng that this book would definitely sell for more than five yuan in the future. Liu Feng nodded with a smile, saying he would die before selling it.

Just like that, his days in the song-and-dance troupe came to an end.

Early that morning, he rolled up his bedding, picked up his bag, swept out the dormitory once, closed the door, and walked out. He did not go to bid farewell to anyone; the political commissar was away with the troupe on tour, the others were even less present, and Liu Feng was at home nursing his injury, so he left quietly, all by himself.

But upon reaching the main gate of the song-and-dance troupe, he still saw Liu Feng, standing straight while holding his waist, chatting with the soldier on guard at the entrance.

"Let me see you off," he said with a smile.

"Forget it, walking uses the waist too," Wang Yan said, shaking his head with a smile.

"I didn't say I was going to send you off to the train station; just meeting you here ensures you don't leave too desolately."

"I'm not dead yet, so no need for anyone to mourn at my grave; go back and rest, I'm leaving."

Watching Wang Yan's retreating figure, Liu Feng shouted, "Don't forget to write to me with your address and phone number clearly stated; I'll contact you when I get there."

"I've got it noted."

Wang Yan did not turn around, simply carrying his things as he walked toward the train station...

Shortly after he had enrolled, on July 28th at 3:42 AM, a magnitude 7.8 earthquake struck Tang Shan; the people were unprepared, still asleep in their dreams.

Although Wang Yan was in Jingcheng, he also felt the tremors distinctly.

This earthquake, affecting Tang Shan, Tianjin, Jingcheng, and surrounding areas, resulted in over 240,000 deaths, more than 160,000 serious injuries, the complete loss of over 7,200 families, the breakup of tens of thousands of households, and left 4,204 children orphaned. Ninety-seven percent of ground structures and 55% of production equipment were destroyed; transportation, water supply, electricity, and communications were all severed. Within 23 seconds, direct economic losses reached 10 billion yuan, and an industrial city with a population of one million was leveled to the ground.

Of course, this was the official statistics Wang Yan remembered from later; at this time, people had no mind to tally casualties, for the devastation was visible to the naked eye everywhere.

The government reacted quickly; on that very day, the Central Committee sent a message of condolence, and central leaders immediately formed a condolence delegation to go deep into the disaster zone. At the same time, they decided to implement national-level disaster relief, establishing command headquarters at all levels, with the People's Liberation Army as the main body providing targeted support, organizing self-rescue and mutual-aid activities. Over 100,000 PLA officers and soldiers were mobilized to rush urgently to the disaster zone for rescue; 50,000 medical personnel and cadres from all over the country were urgently assembled to save the dying and heal the wounded and to transport relief supplies.

Critically injured patients were evacuated by special aircraft and special trains to 11 provinces and cities for treatment. Departments such as Posts and Telecommunications, Railways, Transportation, Electric Power, and Municipal Construction ensured communications, water supply, electricity, and transportation matters. Most importantly, work began on controlling the epidemics that inevitably follow major disasters.

Wang Yan and the others from the Military and Political University were not dispatched for disaster relief; their numbers were too few to be of much use, and moreover, their task was to study and do a good job in army construction.

Furthermore, in this place, high-ranking officers were everywhere; division and regiment-level leaders were a dime a dozen, all being leaders who had come from various regions for advanced training. Wang Yan, a mere deputy company commander, was truly a small shrimp here, having to call everyone he met 'Commander.'

Of course, this was just an exaggerated way of speaking; otherwise, if one really had to salute every three steps, what would that become? Since they were all in the same school, everyone was reluctantly considered a classmate.

The true situation was that his reputation in the military was truly huge, with a bunch of commanders coming specifically to chat with him out of admiration.

On the very first day he arrived, he was called over by the dean and the political commissar, who chatted with him kindly for a while, affirming the songs he had composed, the many heroic stories in 'Chinese Heroes,' and this heavyweight book, '14th Army,' expressing hopes for his future studies at the Military and Political University and his future creations. Afterward, like a giant panda, he was greeted by leaders at all levels, cadets, and various other commanders.

Wang Yan was naturally someone who got along well; he chatted very well with all sorts of commanders, and everyone held him in high esteem, with some military leaders even wanting to transfer Wang Yan to other places, though Wang Yan rejected them all with 'Obey orders and listen to command.'

Overall, life at the Military and Political University was quite comfortable. However, the external environment was actually not good. The earthquake rescue operation was a long-term endeavor, and the Military and Political University received news from Tang Shan every day. Additionally, in surrounding areas, the government urged the people to build earthquake shelters and not to live inside houses; everywhere was in a mess.

By September, it was the National Day of Mourning, followed by memorial meetings held across the country. The Military and Political University was naturally no exception; the academy held its own memorial on the same day.

The wheel of history rolled forward, and everything happened as destined...

Wang Yan was studying political courses, and at night he did not forget to write; everyone at the Military and Political University knew, and even many more people outside knew, that he was working on the creation of '11th Army.'

Broadly speaking, it was no different from '14th Army'; it was all the same, but in terms of writing technique, he had made changes, for he could not really write two identical books. After all, he was not writing history; if people wanted to read that, there were vast amounts of materials compiled by the Military Commission. Instead, this was literary creation based on history, possessing communicability.

Similarly, Wang Yan did not forget to attend to his commander, as well as the political commissar who had long ago slapped his chest with a loud bang in front of the commander; in November, after nearly a year, he finished writing '11th Army,' comprising over 1.5 million words. He mailed the manuscript, along with several letters, back to Mencius...

The song-and-dance troupe returned to their station to rest and regroup, and Old Liao once again urgently assembled the members of the band.

Fang Fang Hongmin, the exclusive lead singer, was naturally present; without a word, Old Liao distributed a pile of sheet music and immediately had everyone familiarize themselves with it, following the same procedure as before.

"Old Liao, has Wang Yan written another song?"

Old Liao paid them no heed, simply staring at the sheet music in his hand, immersed in his musical world.

"Written another song? Why didn't he mention it in his previous letter? Did he tell you?" Hao Li Shuwen muttered, looking at Xiao Xiao Suizi beside her.

"No," the latter replied, shaking her head, equally bewildered, "Let's go over to Fang Fang Hongmin's place and take a look; who knows what he wrote this time."

Wang Yan naturally wrote letters to them, and they naturally replied. Not meeting face-to-face, separated by a thousand li, words put onto paper allowed many things difficult to say to be written down. Yet it still remained impossible to say everything thoroughly, though the scope of what could be said had indeed broken through many barriers.

Lin Lin Dingding stood behind the two of them, listening to them talk about the letters, showing no reaction. That damn Wang Yan truly did not write to her.

It was not just the two of them; other comrades, both men and women, were also very curious about Wang Yan's new work. After all, up to now, Wang Yan had written only three songs: 'We Who Serve in the Army,' 'The Motherland Will Not Forget,' and 'My Motherland and I,' all of which had spread throughout Dajiangnanbei and were promoted nationwide as excellent songs. Now came another new song, and people were eager to know what it was.

Although knowing in advance was of no real use, and Old Liao had not even finished arranging the music, they still wanted to know.

Fang Fang Hongmin knew this would happen, so he quickly took out a sheet of music he had prepared long ago and handed it to everyone. Last time, after passing it around, the sheet had been torn in three places; this time, he had copied one in advance, being very clever.

However, this made it even more convenient for the others; some singers took the sheet music, glanced at it, and immediately found the tune, beginning to hum.

"Mud coats the trouser legs, sweat soaks through the shirt and back..."

"I do not know who you are, but I know for whom you strive..."

"This is written for the disaster relief troops..." someone said after hearing just a couple of lines.

What Wang Yan had 'created' this time was precisely 'For Whom,' a song embodying the fish-and-water bond between the army and the people.

This song was originally composed to praise the deeds of PLA soldiers who feared no sacrifice during the great floods of 1998; writing it now for the troops rescuing Tang Shan was not incongruous. The lyrics were the same, requiring no changes.

After all, major disasters are often accompanied by heavy rain; Tang Shan was not peaceful, for after the earthquake, heavy rain inevitably fell, turning the ruins into mud. Moreover, the soldiers were carrying out rescue operations at the risk of aftershocks; various rescue tasks caused them to shout until their throats were raw and their hands were blistered, all demonstrating the same fearless spirit...