Chapter 197

Why did Yuan Zheng's name written on the ground have only six characters, uniquely missing his own name?

Perhaps, he could not overcome that hurdle in his heart. Back then, he led the whole class's brothers to flee. Afterwards, he again led the whole class's brothers to face death calmly. Although they ultimately died for the nation without resentment, if it weren't for Yuan Zheng's mistaken command back then, his subordinates should have died alongside the regiment's troops, rather than leaving behind an ambiguous charge of desertion.

After a long while, the wind stopped, the valley fell silent, but that sorrow lingered in my heart for a long, long time. It did not disappear with Yuan Zheng's passing. At this moment, I finally understood a saying: there are people who die physically but leave their spirit for eternity. A soldier's body is an unbending spine that props up heaven and earth. A soldier's glory is the fearless spirit of dying for the nation without hesitation.

I feel I should do something? For these seven soldiers who faced death calmly, what should I do? At least, I shouldn't let Yuan Zheng's descendants bear the eternal infamy; the father of the old madman is not a deserter, but a martyr.

………………………………

One week later, I opened my eyes from the bed. Tears streaming, I told everyone what I had seen in the dream. Together we discussed, seeing if we could do something with our modest abilities for these fallen martyrs.

After I finished telling the entire story I had seen, Liu Guozhong stroked his beard and pondered for a long time, already having a plan.

After another three days, the drama finally kicked off with great fanfare amidst everyone's preparations.

This time, the Liu Family Troupe did not select pieces from old dramas to perform, but instead wrote and directed their own play titled "Deserter Hero". The main characters were seven people: Zhang Liushi, Niu San, You Xiaosheng… and Yuan Zheng.

However, when the play came out, it provoked a chorus of curses from many villagers, including the village head, whose faces flushed red with anger and they fainted on the spot.

The villagers of Hu Family Village perhaps hadn't read much, not knowing the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, but when it came to the history of the Anti-Japanese War, they could recite it backward and forward. The seven people in the play were clearly the deserters famous in the Yellow Peace Battle of that year.

Therefore, although the troupe encountered no obstruction and performed the drama safely, they still faced unprecedented difficulties, with some villagers even hurling rotten eggs and fruit fiercely at the actors on stage.

Liu Guozhong ultimately honestly returned the performance fees to the village committee. First, because the village head and the Liu Family Troupe had an irreconcilable difference of opinion; second, because Liu Guozhong did not want to earn that money.

Not knowing some things is fine; but once known, everyone feels justified in doing something for these few fallen heroes. The only thing that makes us feel regret is that, even if we made an effort, we still cannot prove the innocence of Yuan Zheng and these seven heroes.

Numerous conformist eyes pointed at the Liu Family Troupe members, accusing us of glorifying traitors, glorifying deserters, and saying we are unworthy to be Chinese. Even the troupe's members who were unaware of the internal situation could not understand why the troupe went against the villagers' wishes and clashed over money.

Sometimes I truly hate knowing too much. This feeling of everyone being drunk while I am sober is unpleasant, preventing me from going with the flow and blending into worldly atmosphere. However, I have no regrets, for I know I am right!

The villagers are not necessarily wrong either; they merely deceived themselves by what they saw and heard. But what can be unearthed from that dust‑covered history to prove who is right and who is wrong?

After the drama ended, I and Pangzi did not promptly set off for Suitable Prosperity, but instead stayed in Hu Family Village for over a week.

It wasn't that I didn't want to go, but my body simply lacked the stamina for a long journey. As I expected, Fate Perception drained too much of my spirit, leaving my body and soul utterly exhausted; I lay in bed for a full week before I could barely get up.

Logically, Little Fat should have bestowed this Fate Perception upon me, but now Little Fat is unconscious, yet I can still employ Fate Perception. In Dark Jade, Little Fat has not awakened, and Jiajia cannot be summoned. No one comes to resolve this doubt for me.

Perhaps, it is because we signed a contract?

I can only think this way, attributing the mystery to that reason. However, the one thing I can be certain of is that Fate Perception consumes my essence while also accelerating the consumption of my lifespan.

In the evening, after getting up and looking in the mirror, I, Haoran, saw wrinkles at the corners of my eyes, my skin looking much older than before. Although I have not yet grown hair, the fatigue of body and mind still lets me feel my aged state.

The next day after I was able to get out of bed and move, I received news that shocked everyone like a thunderbolt from a clear sky: Yuan Zheng's son, the old madman who had endured years of contempt and scorn from the villagers, had died.

He died from contracting a cold, with no one attending to him. In the end, he was literally sick to death in that dilapidated old house resembling a garbage heap.

A village that venerates Anti-Japanese heroes instead spat decades of contempt and scorn at the descendant of a hero. They pride themselves on the glory inherited from their ancestors, yet in their obliviousness they even personally buried the life of a martyr's descendant.

………………

After resting for a few days, I and Pangzi, seeing off many brothers of the troupe, boarded the train to Suitable Prosperity.

Pangzi's mood was not good; since boarding the train he has been furrowing his brows, unable to show even a hint of a smile. This does not match his usual character.

In doubt, I pushed him and said, "Old Wang, what's up with you? Feeling down all day, are you still grieving over Yuan Zheng's affair?"

"Ah?" Pangzi exclaimed, only after a long while regaining his senses, looking at me blankly, and said, "What are you saying? What sorrow?"

"I ask you, are you still grieving over Yuan Zheng's matter?" I raised my voice involuntarily.

"No… I'm just thinking about things, just thinking about things," Pangzi opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated and closed it again within a moment.

Having known him for so many years, I immediately sensed that his reaction was due to him hiding something from me. I think this matter is related to Liu Guozhong.

The day before parting, Liu Guozhong summoned Pangzi to his room. When Pangzi wanted to invite me along, Liu Guozhong used the excuse that I was unwell and needed proper rest, making me lie in bed to recuperate. I thought the two uncle‑nephew just wanted a quiet gathering, but now it seems there must be something fishy. Perhaps Pangzi is keeping something from me at Liu Guozhong's instruction.

"By the way, when will QingSongShu be back? Do you know who we are going to Suitable Prosperity to assess the feng shui of the yin grave for?" I turned my gaze to the outside of the carriage and changed the subject.

If I don't want to say something, I'll keep it hidden. I'd rather know a little less than make things difficult for my brothers. This isn't greatness of mine; it's what I've realized over the years of getting along with Pangzi. Compared to Pangzi, I always appear somewhat selfish, but this selfishness too has subtly influenced me through him, from whom I've learned many lessons on how to be a person.

"As for this Suitable Prosperity matter, it's mainly to go check the feng shui for a wealthy family surnamed Yang," after a pause Pangzi furrowed his brows again and said, "However, the Yang family's ancestral grave feng shui is not something just anyone can handle; otherwise, this matter wouldn't require my father's involvement."

"Oh, if you say so! Is it very difficult?" I asked curiously.

Pangzi said: "There's a problem with the Three Evil Stele inside the tomb; you tell me, is it difficult or not?"

I gasped, unable to suppress the turmoil in my heart: "What did you say? The Yang family's ancestral land has a Three Evil Stele—just which exalted master set it up, and what exactly is the layout of their yin grave?"

Pangzi shook his head, saying: "I don't know this, but whoever dared to place the Three Evil Stele must possess a feng shui treasure land with auspicious spiritual formations. In short, my trip with you to get soy sauce is just an excuse to broaden our horizons while we're at it."

"In today's society, the places where the dead reside are more expensive than those of the living. Land has been hyped up for sale; big and small rural mountains have been developed. Let alone a feng shui treasure land daring to host the Three Evil Stele, even those with decent feng shui are gone." Pangzi sighed.

"Hearing you say that, I actually look forward more to this trip to Suitable Prosperity," I said, resting my chin, intrigued. At this moment, only three big words spun in my mind: "Three Evil Stele."

——————

The Hong'an journey has ended, but I am very dissatisfied, extremely dissatisfied. Many troubles prevent me from calming my heart, and I cannot write what I want to express. I want to tell everyone, to have everyone remember the departed anti-Japanese predecessors, remember their spirit. I have no intention to stir up hatred; hatred is meaningless to the nation and to us personally, and it will even corrode our spirits. But, none of us has the right to forget history… because forgetting history means betrayal.