A century of poverty

Chapter 27 Great Revenge Achieved

The People's Republic of China was founded on October 1, 1949.

Gao Xiang was transferred to Tianjin Third Street to take charge of the work.

Not long after, our second eldest sister was born, and we named her "Duoduo," meaning to seize this daughter.

The newly established People's Republic of China was a chaotic place with many problems and everything in need of rebuilding.

In a dilapidated courtyard at the west end of Huangtuling Village, people with disheveled clothes and crooked heads have been coming and going recently.

Inside the room, Master Huang You was "preaching" to his disciples. He said, "Our Grandmaster Huang Yao ascended to heaven on the ninth day of the ninth lunar month. We who follow him will surely enjoy great blessings. This master can ascend to heaven and govern the earth. I guarantee that after five hundred days of cultivation, each of us will be able to soar to heaven and become kings on earth."

He pointed to one of the bald, middle-aged men, Guo Liulun, who looked like he'd never washed his face, and said, "Him! Don't let his unassuming appearance fool you. In a few hundred days, once he's successfully cultivated and attained enlightenment, he can ascend to heaven. On earth, he'll rule over hundreds of miles, from Qinshan Island to Tanghaikou. He'll be the king and landlord of this area, able to command the wind and rain and do whatever he wants. Brothers, who wouldn't want to live like that!"

"Yes! Yes! We all want to!" A dozen or so slackers and lazybones cheered happily.

Guo Lun wiped his nose and inhaled sharply: "When that time comes, with my first wife and second wives, let's see who dares to look down on me, Guo Lun'er!"

In his excitement, he even mispronounced his own name, Guo Lun'er, which became his nickname.

A skinny man with a pointed head, sitting next to Guo Lun'er, shouted, "Master, what kind of official am I?" Huang replied, "You're even more remarkable. This entire sea area, all the way to Penglai Island, belongs to you. You can go to Penglai to see the immortals then." The pointed-headed fellow was stunned by his master's words, not knowing what to do.

The others shouted, "Master, please lead us in the practice!"

Huang jumped down from the stone platform against the wall and walked among the seated congregation, chanting: "Mimi Cult, Mimi Cult, close your eyes and don't sleep, let your heart follow the gentle breeze, when Chiang Kai-shek's army arrives, you'll be carefree. Mimi Mimi..."

The old man from Shimen harbored resentment ever since the land reform, when he was given land and property. He had extreme hatred for the poor farmers who received land.

They appear like ghosts at the edge of the village and at intersections under the cover of night.

On this dark night, the village's poor peasant leader, Chang Xiaoshan, returned from his sister's house in Lizhuangtuo. As he exited the south mountain pass, the river in early winter had little water left. He stepped over a few stones in the river and took a shortcut down the east mountain to walk south. The familiar route of five or six miles was nothing to a young farmer.

Arriving at Changshimenzhuang East, I was almost home.

Chang Ziyin and his gang were lying in ambush by the millstone at the east end of the village, waiting for their chance to commit a crime. When they saw Chang Xiaoshan coming from the north, Chang Ziyin was furious. He had waited for him all night and it hadn't been for nothing. This kid had always been against him since his elders came. When the Communists came, they supported him. Look how happy he was. He led the land reform and divided up my family's fields and houses. Now that he's in my hands, he won't have a good time.

"It's Chang Xiaoshan's turn to deal with this kid," Chang Ziyin ordered.

The black-handed man took out a prepared bag, and his two accomplices, holding pickaxe handles, rushed to the hill and, without saying a word, put the bag over the hill and started hitting it wildly until the hill stopped moving.

"Master, it's not moving anymore, it's probably dead." The black-handed singer reported to his master after arriving at the millstone.

"Check if he's dead. If he's dead, throw him into the mountains east of the river to feed the wolves," Chang Ziyin said viciously.

Watching the three men carrying Xiaoshan across the river and into the woods, he turned and walked back to his home in the village.

Xiaoshan's mother waited at home for her son to return, but he didn't come back. She didn't sleep all night. At daybreak, she went to the village chief, Chang Guitian's, house and explained that he had sent his son, Xiaoshan, to his sister's house in Zhuangtuo the previous evening to deliver food, but he hadn't returned all night, and she was very worried. The village chief comforted her, "Go check on his sister. I'll take some people to look for him again."

Xiaoshan's mother left the village head's house and headed straight for Zhuangtuo. When she arrived at her daughter's house, she couldn't find Xiaoshan. She asked her daughter, who said that her younger brother hadn't stayed long before going home. Xiaoshan's mother collapsed to the ground, and her daughter quickly supported and comforted her. After a hurried meal, the couple searched for Xiaoshan and brought their mother back.

The people sent out by the village chief also failed to find out Xiaoshan's whereabouts.

The next day, villagers who went to gather firewood on Dongshan Mountain reported to the village chief that they had seen something suspicious on the mountain. The village chief, along with his men, and Xiaoshan's mother and father, who also limped along, went to the scene. When they opened the bag, they found Xiaoshan inside, his head mangled and his body covered in blood. Xiaoshan's mother threw herself at her son, tears streaming down her face: "My son, what happened to you? Who beat you like this—"

The village chief immediately reported the incident to the police.

Furthermore, Guo Xiulun from Zhaozhuangtuo spends all his time going to Huangtuling to believe in some kind of "Mimi Cult".

His wife passed away a few years ago, leaving behind four children, three sons and one daughter. His two eldest sons are married and live separately, and his daughter is also married in Liuzhuangtuo, to Liu Fuyou's neighbor.

That morning, as he was about to leave again, his teenage son, Kaikai, grabbed his hand and said, "Dad, don't go. It's freezing. Look at our doors and windows, all with big holes and small gaps. Stay home and play with me." His father stopped.

"I'm going out so that we can have a better life. Once Dad has mastered me, I'll let you live a life of great wealth and honor," he said to Kai Kai.

"You should take care of things at home first," the youngest son said, pointing to the window kickboard stuffed with tattered cotton.

"Sigh, I'm not going today. I'll paper the windows for you."

The younger son happily said, "Okay, I'll go get the firewood and make the paste."

After sealing the windows and the cracks in the door, the father and son started a fire to cook. After eating, the son leaned on the table and asked his father, "What kind of kung fu do you practice every day? You just leave me at home and don't care about me."

His father said, "Your father's skill in cultivating the earth is extraordinary; he can even send a straw mat flying into the sky."

"Then you give it a try," the younger son said curiously, asking his father to give it a go.

Guo Xiu had been training for days and wanted to try it out too. "Alright, let's take off the kang mat and go to the courtyard."

He laid out the mat, stood in a corner, and looked up at the sky: "Heavenly spirits, wind spirits, past deities, hear me! Stop, stand still, and help me rise into the air." After saying this, he sat down in the middle of the mat, put his hands together, squinted his eyes, and muttered: "Mimi teaching... Gentle breeze turns..."

He sat for a long time and chanted the incantation countless times, but no wind came to lift him and the kang mat.

Kai Kai watched anxiously from the side.

"Guo Xiulun, it's time to end your farce!" A loud voice brought him back to reality.

A villager led in several men in military uniforms. "Get up! Come with us." The military control committee took him away.

The gate was crowded with onlookers. Neighbors came in and, with their children, put the mat back on the kang (a heated brick bed).

In the winter of 1960, a large meeting was held in an open area, deliberately chosen on a day when the market was closed. Due to extensive prior publicity, more people came to attend than on ordinary market days.

The singers received the justice they deserved at this "conference"!

The great revenge has been achieved!

After watching the execution of the self-recited poem, Zhang Xiwang, Zhang Xifeng, and Zhang Xigui walked home chatting and laughing.