Chapter 206

The letter is short, but the sentiment is sincere. Li Yuxuan finished reading, carefully folded it, and placed it back into the envelope.

Liu Guangzhi asked, "She doesn't know I'm a War Criminal now, does she?"

Liu Guangzhi gave a wry smile: "She probably doesn't know. The return address says 'Huaxia Zhejiang,' maybe an intermediary forwarded it within the country. And the address still calls me 'General'…"

"That's fine," Li Yuxuan said, "not knowing is also fine. It spares her any difficulty."

After dinner that day, Liu Guangzhi announced: a film will be shown in the cafeteria tonight.

The news spread like a firecracker. Over two hundred War Criminals detained in Gongde Lin had not seen a film for many years. Du Yuming, Wang Yaowu and other senior General Officers were still okay; after the victory over Japan they could occasionally watch a film in Jinling or Modu, but after the civil war broke out in 1946 they never entered a cinema again. The mid‑ and lower‑rank officers had gone even longer without seeing a film.

The cafeteria was temporarily converted into a screening hall. The soldiers brought in long benches, and a white screen was hung at the front. The projector stood at the back, and Liu Guangzhi operated it himself—he had studied in Modu before the war and knew how to handle the device.

Li Yuxuan was placed in the middle of the front row, with Wang Lingji on one side and Du Yuming on the other; Wang Yaowu, Huang Wei, Song Xilian, Chen Changjie and others sat behind them. Everyone was as excited as elementary schoolchildren, whispering about what film would be shown.

"I guess it's a Soviet film," Du Yuming said, "since China and the Soviet Union are friendly now."

"It could also be a domestic film," Wang Lingji said, "I've seen 'A River of Spring Water Flows East'; it was well made."

"Quiet, quiet!" Liu Guangzhi clapped his hands, "Today we'll show three films. The first is the Soviet movie 'Bridge,' about the anti‑fascist war; the second is the American cartoon 'Tom and Jerry,' for a bit of relaxation; the third is the domestic film 'Sorrow and Joy in Middle Age.' Let's begin!"

The lights went out, the projector clicked to life, and a beam of light struck the screen.

'Bridge' is a black‑and‑white film telling the story of Soviet sappers building a bridge behind German lines. Though the language is foreign, Chinese subtitles are provided. When the Soviet sappers braved artillery fire to build the bridge and most of them perished after completing the mission, the cafeteria fell into silence.

Li Yuxuan watched intently. The film reminded him of the wartime scenes when engineering troops erected pontoon bridges over the Yellow River and the Yangtze River. It was the same—braving Japanese aircraft bombings and using their very flesh and blood to complete the mission.

"Our sappers did the same back then," Du Yuming whispered, "the Songhu Campaign…"

"Mm." Li Yuxuan replied with a single sound.

After the film ended, there was a brief intermission. Yao Yongqing changed the reel and began showing "Tom and Jerry."

When the gray‑blue cat was spun around by the mouse, the cafeteria erupted with long‑missed laughter. The generals who had once commanded thousands of troops laughed uproariously, like children.

Li Yuxuan laughed too. Even though he had seen it before, watching it again felt different. He recalled his childhood in Jiangcheng, laughing the same way while watching cartoons. After coming here and learning to fight, he had rarely laughed so heartily.

"That mouse is really clever!" Huang Wei said from behind, "If half of my soldiers were as clever as that mouse, the Huaihai Campaign wouldn't have…"

He stopped mid‑sentence, realizing he had misspoken. The room fell silent for a moment, but soon the comedic scene in the film made everyone laugh again.

The third film, "Sorrow and Joy in Middle Age," is a domestic literary‑art piece about a middle‑aged teacher. When the protagonist persisted in teaching amid the war, many War Criminals fell silent. Many of them had once joined the revolution with ideals of saving the nation through education or industry, but later took the military path and ultimately became War Criminals.

When the movie ended, it was already ten p. m. Liu Guangzhi turned the lights on, but everyone remained immersed in the film's mood, reluctant to get up.

"Return to your barracks; we have study tomorrow," Liu Guangzhi said.

The War Criminals rose one by one. Du Yuming helped Li Yuxuan to his feet and said, "Director, the selection was excellent. 'Bridge' reminds us of the War of Resistance, 'Tom and Jerry' makes us laugh, 'Sorrow and Joy in Middle Age'… makes us reflect on this life."

Li Yuxuan nodded, "The person who chose the films put a lot of thought into it."

Back in his room, Li Yuxuan didn't go to sleep right away. He lit a kerosene lamp—Gongde Lin turns off all lights at eleven p. m., but as a 'special care subject,' he could stay up a bit later.

He opened the copy of The Earth that Sai Zhenzhu had sent and began reading slowly. English was not difficult for him; he had served as a diplomat in his youth, and English was a required subject.

The book describes the story of Huaxia peasant Wang Long's family, prompting many recollections. He thought of his childhood, of the destitute farmers he saw in the Central Plains during the War of Resistance, and of the old saying: "In prosperity, the people suffer; in ruin, the people suffer."

A knock at the door sounded again.

"Come in."

It was Du Yuming, carrying an enamel jar, who said, "Director, I have brewed a cup of tea for you. The film ended late, I'm afraid you won't be able to sleep."

Li Yuxuan took the tea and said, "Please sit."

Du Yuming sat on the edge of the bed, glanced at the book on the table, and said, "Director is still studying hard."

"Just skim it," Li Yuxuan closed the book, "Honestly, you ask, we who have fought half our lives, what was it all for?"

Du Yuming was taken aback, not expecting the Director to ask such a profound question. He thought for a moment: "When I was young at Huangpu, I believed it was to save the nation and the people. Later… it became complicated. There were ideals and selfish motives; there was national righteousness and also factional struggles."

"Indeed," Li Yuxuan said, taking a sip of tea, "complicated. During the War of Resistance it was simpler; the barrels pointed outward together. The civil war…"

He didn't continue. Du Yuming understood his meaning.

"Director," Du Yuming hesitated, "I heard that the Republic side holds you in high regard. Chen Geng, Lin Husan and the others often come to see you; this time they even arranged the film equipment. You say… what fate awaits us in the future?"

"I don't know," Li Yuxuan answered honestly, "but Chen Geng once said that if we reform well, there will be a way out. We who fought the Japanese are still recognized by the Republic."

Du Yuming nodded, sat for a while longer, then rose to take his leave.

Li Yuxuan kept reading, but his thoughts were no longer on the book. He recalled the words in Sai Zhenzhu's letter: "May Huaxia soon enjoy peace."

Peace. The word was too luxurious for him. From the Xinhai Revolution to the Northern Expedition, from the War of Resistance to the civil war, Huaxia had fought for nearly forty years. His whole life had been spent in war.

Now, the war had finally ended. He had become a War Criminal, confined in Gongde Lin, but at least Huaxia was at peace.

Perhaps that is the greatest consolation.

A few days later, Li Yuxuan wrote a reply to Sai Zhenzhu. The letter was short, but he deliberated over it for a long time:

Dear Ms. Sai Zhenzhu:

I have received the gifted books, the badge, and the flavors of your hometown, and I express my deep gratitude. The book 'The Earth' deserves careful study. With the pen of a foreigner you have written the soul of Huaxia's peasants; receiving the Nobel Prize is fully deserved.

The Zhenjiang vinegar and meat, tasting them feels like returning to my hometown. My ancestral home is Zhejiang, but I served in Jiangsu for many years, so I also feel affection for Zhenjiang's flavor. When the vinegar jar is opened, the whole room fills with fragrance, and my comrades all envy it.

I now reside in Yanjing, and everything is well. Huaxia has welcomed peace, and all things await revival. Should you return to Huaxia, you will be able to see the new visage of its mountains and rivers.

Wishing you literary prosperity from afar.

Li Yuxuan

July 10, 1949, Yanjing

He did not mention that he was in Gongde Lin, only stating 'residing in Yanjing.' He also did not refer to his War Criminal status, calling himself a 'comrade'—the War Criminals in Gongde Lin are indeed 'comrades.'

The letter was handed to Liu Guangzhi for mailing. Liu Guangzhi looked at the address on the envelope: 'Pennsylvania, United States… can this letter be sent?'

"Give it a try," Li Yuxuan said, "it doesn't matter if it can't be sent."

He knew that the letter might never reach its destination, or even if sent, could be intercepted. In 1949, Sino‑American relations made a Huaxia War Criminal writing to an American writer a politically sensitive matter.

Nevertheless, Liu Guangzhi mailed the letter. He said, "Superiors have instructed that your private correspondence, as long as it does not involve political secrets, may be sent."

After the letter was sent, Li Yuxuan continued his life in Gongde Lin: reading, reading newspapers, occasionally watching movies, and playing chess and chatting with Du Yuming and others. Sai Zhenzhu's gift was carefully kept, and that copy of The Earth became a book he read repeatedly.

Sometimes he wondered, if he had not taken the military path and had pursued cultural work like Sai Zhenzhu, would his life have been different? But the thought flickered away. Everyone has their own destiny; his destiny was to be a soldier, to be at war, to drift in the torrent of history.

Now the war is over, and his life has entered its final stage: in the Merit Forest, awaiting the ultimate judgment, or forgiveness.

And all of this began decades ago, in a small village in Zhejiang Xikou, where a four‑year‑old boy followed a seven‑year‑old young master and started his legendary life.

Under the kerosene lamp, Li Yuxuan leafed through The Earth, and when he saw Wang Long laboring diligently on the land and finally owning his own land, he smiled.

Land. Farmer. Huaxia.

These three words ran through his entire life, and also ran through this nation's millennia‑long history.

Outside the window, the night whistle of the Merit Forest sounded; it was time to extinguish the lights. He closed the book and blew out the kerosene lamp.

Darkness enveloped the room, but in the distance the lights of Yanjing City were faintly visible. Those were Huaxia's lights, the beginning of a New Era.

And he was one of the last witnesses of this Old Era.

That's enough.