Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

The huge factory building of Nancheng Chemical Plant was dark and stuffy, filled with the pungent smell of chemicals and engine oil. With the end of the year approaching, the maintenance tasks were heavy.

Cang Xiangyang, clad in oil-stained work clothes, was practically embedded in the gaps of the pipes, desperately tightening a rusted bolt with a lever. Beads of sweat rolled down his brow, stinging his eyes, mixing with the rust to form a muddy paste on his young yet weathered face. The grinding sound of the wrench against the rusted metal echoed jarringly within the metal cavity, like the grinding teeth of a wild beast.

The sharp whistle signaling the midday break pierced the stillness. The workers, as if granted a reprieve, emerged from their respective corners, slumped onto their toolboxes, and ate cold, hard steamed buns with their water bottles.

Cang Xiangyang emerged from the depths of the pipe, panting heavily, and leaned against the steel wall to rest. His gaze inadvertently swept over a wad of old newspapers used as a cushion for his tools on the floor. A large, slightly blurry black-and-white photograph on the front page, like a bolt of lightning, instantly struck his eyes—

That angular face, pale from blood loss, those eyes that remained calm and resolute even in the newspaper... who else could it be but his elder brother, Cang Lifeng?

"A Lone Hero Fights a Bloodbath at a Bank, Saving More Than Twenty People Despite Severe Wounds"—the huge bold title, like a heavy hammer, slammed into his chest!

"...Lifeng...Big Brother?"

Time seemed to freeze at that moment. Xiang Yang felt a chill run from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, his entire body going cold. He bent down abruptly, grabbed the oil-stained newspaper in his hand, and stared intently at the words "Life in Danger," as if trying to pry them out.

"Clang—" He jerked to his feet, his head slamming heavily against the thick, hard steel pipe above him with a dull thud, but he felt no pain. The lever slipped from his hand and fell, crashing onto the metal plate with a teeth-grinding roar, sparks flying everywhere!

"Xiangyang, what are you doing! Are you out of your mind?" The coworker next to him was startled by the noise and grabbed his arm in horror.

Cang Xiangyang suddenly turned his head, his bloodshot eyes filled with terrifying fear and an almost frantic urgency. He stared intently at his coworker, his voice hoarse and distorted, each word seeming to be torn from his throat: "My brother...this...this is my older brother! My own older brother!" He shook the newspaper in his hand violently, ink and stains covering his hands.

The coworker was stunned by the mixture of extreme fear, grief, and a kind of near-madness in his eyes, and stammered, "Ying... Hero is your brother? Good heavens..."

"I have to go! I have to go right now!" Xiangyang seemed to wake up suddenly, shoving his coworker aside and frantically pulling off his safety belt. His movements were clumsy and unsteady due to extreme panic, and he almost slipped off the scaffolding several times. Like a leopard scorched by flames, he rushed down the scaffolding without regard for anything else, leaving his astonished coworkers with only a silhouette disappearing into the factory gate, shrouded in cold wind and dust.

---

In the dimly lit cutting workshop of the "Lihua" glove factory in the west of the city, the clatter of sewing machines filled the air, along with the smell of cotton and glue. Cang Xiaohua sat at her workstation by the window, head bowed, her rough hands rapidly stuffing cut leather into the sewing machine's foot pedal. Her back was slightly hunched, and one leg was awkwardly curled up. Years of working at her desk had made her neck appear exceptionally thin and delicate.

"Xiaohua," a middle-aged female factory worker with curly hair leaned over and whispered, "that Mr. Li from East Street I mentioned to you last time, are you really not going to reconsider? He may be a bit older, and his wife is gone, but he's retired from a state-owned factory and has a pension! His house is spacious too! You could go there and enjoy a life of luxury! It's much better than you toiling away here, right? Someone like you... sigh, you can't be too demanding..."

Cang Xiaohua's hand paused almost imperceptibly, the stitch slightly deviating. She didn't look up, but instead pressed her lips tightly together, her long eyelashes drooping, casting small shadows on her pale cheeks. As if she hadn't heard, she simply used her good foot to pedal the sewing machine faster, the "clack-clack-clack" sound becoming rapid and dense, as if using this monotonous noise to build a wall, isolating those "good intentions" tinged with pity or calculation.

Seeing that she didn't answer, the female worker felt awkward and returned to her workstation. For the time being, only the noise of the sewing machines remained in the workshop.

Suddenly, a clear human voice crackled and popped from the old radio in the corner:

"...This station reports...Nancheng Bank robbery...Hero Cang Lifeng..."

The three characters "Cang Lifeng" are like a needle, gently piercing the noise of the workshop.

Xiaohua's hand paused almost imperceptibly.

Immediately following, "...seriously injured..."

These four words transformed into a giant hammer, crashing down with a deafening roar!

"Brother..." A weak, trembling monosyllable escaped from her pale lips.

She tried to stand up abruptly, wanting to get some answers, but her limp leg felt like it didn't belong to her. In her panic, she lost her balance, and her elbow slammed heavily against the cold machine table. The sewing machine needle, gleaming coldly, pierced the leather with a "plop," also embedding itself in the tip of her finger that she was pressing against the edge.

A sharp, stinging pain shot through the skin, and a drop of bright red blood quickly seeped onto the light-colored leather.

The real pain shattered her last shred of hope. A massive, overwhelming fear, like icy water, instantly engulfed her!

"Xiaohua! What's wrong?" The female worker next to her was startled and quickly helped her up.

Cang Xiaohua grabbed the female worker's arm tightly, her nails digging almost into the worker's flesh. The woman looked up, her clear eyes filled with unprecedented terror and panic. Tears welled in her eyes instantly, but stubbornly refused to fall, her voice trembling uncontrollably: "Sister Zhang... the broadcast... my brother... my older brother... he's in the hospital... with a gunshot wound..." She stammered, overwhelmed with worry that she could barely breathe.

"Xiaohua!" A figure, panting heavily and carrying the chill of the outside air, appeared at the workshop door. It was Cang Xiangyang. His face was covered in a mixture of oil, sweat, and tears, his work clothes were disheveled, and his eyes held an unconcealable anxiety and heaviness.

The siblings' eyes met in mid-air. No more words were needed; the undried tear stains on Xiaohua's face and her desperate eyes, and the unfathomable grief and urgency in Xiangyang's eyes, spoke volumes.

"Let's go!" Xiangyang strode forward, grabbing his sister who was almost unsteady on her feet, his voice hoarse. "To the hospital! To see our older brother!"

He helped his sister up and anxiously looked around on the street. Despite the high fare, he unusually flagged down a tricycle.

---

Just as Cang Xiangyang and Cang Xiaohua were rushing to the hospital, no fewer than fifty people had already gathered at the entrance of the inpatient department of Nancheng People's Hospital.

At the forefront of the crowd, a red banner with yellow lettering was held high: "We will never forget the life-saving grace of hero Cang Lifeng." Standing beneath the banner were more than twenty men, women, and children—all of them were hostages and their families who had been rescued by Cang Lifeng during the bank robbery.

An elderly woman with gray hair stood shakily at the front, followed by a young couple. The wife was holding a three- or four-year-old boy in her arms—one of the children who had been terrified and crying in the bank and had almost been kicked by the robbers.

"Let us go in and see our benefactor!" the old woman said, her voice choked with emotion. "We'll just present him with a banner, say a few words, and leave..."

"Yes, let's see the hero!"

"If it weren't for Cang Yingxiong, our family would be finished..."

The crowd was agitated, but remained orderly. The hospital's security captain, accompanied by three security guards, stood blocking the entrance, looking troubled. Beside him stood the deputy director of the hospital's administrative department, who had rushed to the scene, and two police officers from the local police station who had been notified to assist in maintaining order.

Facing the eager crowd, the bespectacled deputy director of the administrative department, who appeared to be in his forties, stepped forward and shouted:

"Comrades, please be quiet and listen to me."

The noise of the crowd subsided slightly, and all eyes were focused on him.

"We at the hospital fully understand everyone's feelings. Comrade Cang Lifeng is our hero, and we, like you, all hope for his speedy recovery. However, the hospital has strict regulations requiring absolute quiet in the ward area. This is for the health of all patients, and also so that Comrade Cang Lifeng can rest better and recover faster. He has just undergone major surgery and is out of danger, and his body is very weak. He really cannot withstand too much disturbance. Please understand, and this is also for the sake of our hero's health."

"Then we'll send a representative," a middle-aged man called out from the crowd. "We were all rescued, and we pooled our money together. We should let our benefactors know how grateful we are."

As he spoke, he pulled a thick envelope from his pocket, the envelope almost bursting open. The others also took out their money—five-yuan and ten-yuan coins, as well as neatly folded fifty-yuan notes and a few hundred-yuan bills. The money was quickly collected into a large cloth bag.

"Okay," the deputy director of the administrative department and the police officer exchanged a glance, "you select two or three representatives. They can bring their things in, but there really can't be too many people. And they can't stay long, ten minutes."

The crowd began to whisper among themselves. Finally, all eyes fell on Wang Lide and Ayun.

"Mr. Wang, you and your wife should represent us." The middle-aged man handed Wang Lide a cloth bag full of money and continued, "You are an educated man, you know how to talk. Your wife was saved by the hero Cang Yingxiong at great personal risk, so you two are the most suitable to go."

Wang Lide took the cloth bag, his hands trembling slightly. The child in Ayun's arms made a babbling sound, and she gently patted the swaddling clothes, nodding with red eyes.

Wang Lide turned to the crowd and bowed deeply, saying emotionally, "Since everyone trusts my wife and me so much, then we will accept it. Please rest assured, we will definitely convey everyone's good wishes and pass on every word of thanks to Brother Cang."

The crowd automatically parted to make way. Someone whispered, "Mr. Wang, tell the hero that once he recovers, we'll all chip in to throw a banquet and make sure to invite him."

"Yes, you absolutely must invite them!"

Wang Lide nodded emphatically, helped his wife, and walked into the hospital building under the watchful eyes of the crowd. The remaining people did not disperse but waited quietly at the entrance, as if waiting for a representative to bring news that the hero was safe and sound.