Chapter 16: Shen Guizhi's Past

"You little brat! How can you talk about your own father like that under the heavens!" Shen Guizhi's tone carried a hint of reproach.

He Yuzhu stiffened his neck, the stubbornness of a youth written all over his face: "Mother, you've misinterpreted my meaning! I want you to take good care of your health and raise Yushui yourself! If something were to happen to you, how pitiful would little Yushui be? Doesn't the old saying go, 'With a stepmother comes a stepfather'!"

Shen Guizhi looked at her son, the corners of her mouth curling into a bitter arc: "Zhuzi, I know you care for your mother. But your father... he has his own difficulties! Mom knows you hate him for always hitting you, but he does that because he's afraid you'll go bad and end up on a crooked path!"

"Old San Ma in the backyard beats his child twice a day, more often than he eats—is that for the child's own good too? I think he just takes his frustrations out on the child after getting bullied outside!"

Shen Guizhi's eyes turned red instantly, and tears rolled down without warning. "Your father has it really hard for the sake of this family! Outside, he has to watch the boss's face, endure the squeezing of his coworkers, and worst of all, suffer the bullying of those goddamn little Japanese devils every few days!" She took a sharp breath, as if to suppress the sharp pain in her heart. "Just a few days ago... your father made a dish of shredded pork with garlic sauce at the restaurant to serve a drunk Japanese devil. That beast, looking for an excuse to avoid paying the bill, insisted that the shredded pork with garlic sauce had no fish and that your father was trying to cheat him because he didn't know the trade! Not only did he force your father to kowtow and apologize, he... he also made your father use fish to make the shredded pork with garlic sauce! Your father... your father came back that night, holding his head, saying he didn't want to live anymore; he almost chopped off his own fingers..." She could no longer continue, covering her face as tears seeped through her fingers. "You tell me, these goddamn little Japanese devils... when will it ever end!"

He Yuzhu almost couldn't hold back a laugh—he hadn't expected such a melodramatic event to actually happen in real life; the little Japanese devils were truly capable of making trouble.

After a bitter smile, a complex feeling surged in his heart; he truly felt the heavy hardships of this cheap father of his, "He Daqing."

He straightened his still-slender back and said decisively: "Mom! I reckon these beasts won't be able to jump around for many more days! By this time next year, no, perhaps even sooner, they will definitely be rolled back to their old home in the East!"

Shen Guizhi was amused by his determined, little-adult-like appearance and couldn't help but break into a smile through her tears. She couldn't resist reaching out her finger, with doting and helplessness, and poked his forehead lightly: "You? A kid whose hair hasn't even grown out yet, what do you know about national affairs? You're just saying things to coax your mother into being happy!"

"Mom! Don't look at people through a crack in the door—don't underestimate people! I haven't been running to the Qianmen Tea House for nothing lately! There are countless guests coming and going from the south and north! Many of them are knowledgeable and highly educated! One time, I heard a scholarly teacher wearing gold-rimmed glasses arguing with someone, and the words were truly inspiring! He said that the German devils are now at the end of their rope, like grasshoppers at the end of autumn! The old Russians in the north will win soon! Once Germany collapses, the little Japanese? They won't be far from death!"

"Look at you, so capable!" Shen Guizhi looked at her son, both angry and amused. "Germany? That's a hundred thousand miles away! Whether they are defeated or not, what does that have to do with the Japanese devils?"

"Mom! You don't understand this! The world is now divided into two major camps! The Russians are beating the German devils in the north, and we are fighting the Japanese devils on our own land. As soon as the Russians win, they will free up their hands, break in from outside the pass, and help us fight the devils! By then, the little Japanese will be beaten from both front and back; can their meager foundation withstand that? They'll definitely be finished!" He became more and more excited as he spoke, his small fists clenched tight.

Shen Guizhi didn't answer, just staring at He Yuzhu's face without blinking.

"Mom, why... why are you staring at me like that?"

"Zhuzi..." Shen Guizhi's voice was a bit ethereal, carrying a trace of indescribable, complex emotion. "The way you spoke just now... that spirit... it looks exactly like someone!"

"Like who?" He Yuzhu asked curiously.

"Like your uncle..." Shen Guizhi's gaze seemed to pierce through time, landing on the distant past. "He... when he was your age, he was just like this, often talking incessantly to the family about things... that none of us could quite understand, something about ideologies, something about saving the country..."

He Yuzhu suddenly raised his head and asked: "I have an uncle? Mom, why haven't you mentioned him? And what did my grandfather and grandmother do?"

Perhaps it was the long-lost scent of meat and the rare feeling of being full that loosened her defenses, or perhaps it was the insight her son showed today that far exceeded his age, giving her a trace of comfort and trust; Shen Guizhi slowly put down the chopsticks in her hand.

Her gaze drifted out the window, as if to cross over layers of rooftops, looking back to that misty Jiangnan water town. Her voice also became soft and distant, speaking with memories of the past: "Alright, Mom will tell you about it today. Mom's hometown is in Wuxian, Jiangsu. I heard from the elders that the ancestor of our Shen Family was a great tycoon in the Ming Dynasty who was as wealthy as a nation and sponsored the repair of the Nanjing city wall—Shen Wansan! By the generation of your grandfather Shen Maocai, he was the manager handling business for the main branch of the Shen Family. In the twenty-third year of the Republic, he was sent by the main family to Beijing, where he managed a top-tier large Silk Store in the Qianmen Dashilan area called 'Ruilongxiang'."

"How did you meet my father? You could be considered a descendant of a prestigious family, so how did you take a fancy to a cook!" He Yuzhu asked.

"In my heart, I didn't have a concept of social status. I was used to seeing many people take concubines and live their lives without affection. I don't have many pursuits; I only care if a person is good or not. Your father was still learning to cook back then. Your grandfather's silk store often hosted clients, and he often followed his Siqiang to our shop to cook. Your father talked a lot and was interesting to talk to; he was always striking up conversations with me..."

"Then how did my grandmother and grandfather pass away?" He Yuzhu asked.

A bone-deep hatred suddenly appeared in Shen Guizhi's eyes. "The little Japanese... broke into Beiping city just like bandits coming down from the mountains! They smashed every good shop they saw! They looted! And looting wasn't enough; before leaving... they set a big fire! It burned... it burned so cleanly! That huge 'Ruilongxiang' was left with nothing but a pile of charred, rotten wood and broken rubble... Your grandfather and grandmother... felt they had no face to return to see the clansmen, so they barely found a job to make ends meet at a small silk store nearby. That's how the family fell into ruin." She sighed long and hard, speaking with endless bitterness.

"That uncle of mine..." He Yuzhu asked cautiously, "is he... also gone?"

Shen Guizhi nodded heavily. "Your uncle... his name was Shen Wenqing. When your grandmother, grandfather, and I came to Beijing, he was already studying at a missionary school in Shanghai Tan, so he didn't come with us. After the Battle of Shanghai, he sent a letter home, and the letter said something like 'a good man should dedicate his life to the country'... Later, he... he joined the army..."

She suddenly covered her mouth, suppressed sobs spilling out from between her fingers. The immense grief almost suffocated her. "Ever since then... there... there has been no news..." She could no longer support herself, collapsing onto the table, her thin shoulders shaking violently.

The air in the room seemed to solidify into heavy lead, pressing down on the hearts of the mother and son.

He Yuzhu only felt his nose turn sour, his eye sockets instantly heating up, and tears uncontrollably sliding down.

A long time later, Shen Guizhi endured the grief and continued: "Your grandmother... from the moment she got that news, she collapsed. She would shed tears facing the window all day long, and her eyes... were cried until she was almost blind. Your grandfather was overcome with anxiety that very day and spat out a mouthful of blood. Less than two years later... both elders... were... were gone..." She could no longer continue, sobbing incessantly.

"Mom!" He Yuzhu lunged over to grab his mother's arm. "These things... why have you never mentioned a single word of these things to me before?"

Shen Guizhi looked up at her son with tear-filled eyes, her gaze full of lingering fear and helplessness: "Silly child! Your uncle... he went to resist the Japanese! Can these words... can these words be casually hung on one's lips? It invites disaster! It will get people killed! Mom... Mom only dared to talk to you about it because I see you've grown up a bit now..." She waved her hand, exhausted to the extreme, as if she had used up all her strength.

After hearing the family history recounted by his mother, He Yuzhu felt heavy-hearted, and an indescribable sadness truly surged within him.

In his past life, he had seen many tragic and brutal scenes of the War of Resistance on the screen, but it was ultimately separated by a layer of glass.

At this moment, listening to his mother recount the separation of loved ones and the shattering of the nation in a trembling voice, that kind of skin-deep pain, that kind of desolation and despair of a fallen nation and broken home, was so real and so heavy as it pressed upon his heart.