Sha Zhu's Rebirth in the Courtyard: Starting with Hitting Someone in the Head

Chapter 75 Death Warning

In July 1957, the Anti-Rightist Movement was in full swing. Big-character posters were plastered everywhere in government offices, schools, factories, and mines, calling for a free exchange of ideas and opinions.

What is a rightist? It's quite simple: a rightist is someone who likes to complain and find fault, makes strange remarks and denies the present, admires foreign things and is nostalgic for the old society, has a bad family background and old grievances, and is disobedient.

If you fall into any of these five categories, you're in for a world of trouble.

Jiaodaokou Subdistrict also organized a denunciation meeting, pulling out several typical cases and setting up a stage at the entrance of the alley to denounce them. The old deaf woman was dragged out. She used to call herself "the old ancestor" and had been educated by the military control committee, leaving her with a criminal record. Later, her affair with Yi Zhonghai became a hot topic.

This time, the Anti-Rightist Campaign was settling old scores and new ones all at once. Several street activists dragged her up from under the wall, pushed her onto the stage, and made her bow her head to confess. Her gray hair was disheveled, and she stood bent over on the stage.

Some people in the audience shouted slogans, while others threw rotten vegetable leaves and clods of dirt onto the stage.

Wang Xia stood in the crowd. She worked for the neighborhood committee and had to be present at the denunciation meeting. She looked at the old deaf woman on the stage, who was bent over and had her head bowed. She remembered that it was this old woman who had come to her years ago, asking her to help suppress He Yuzhu, to pass on a message to Deputy District Chief Zhou, and to arrange for Wu Guilan to be admitted to the Intermediate People's Court.

The old woman was now hunched over on the stage, her husband having divorced her and taken their child with him. She didn't dare think any further and shrank back.

Lou Bancheng and Tan Yali stood in a crowd on another street; they had been notified to come for education. A thin man in his fifties was brought up onto the stage and forced to bend over by his shoulders.

Someone nearby read out his crimes: Before the joint venture, he was a private factory owner who had employed dozens of workers. After the joint venture, he made strange remarks, complaining about the low dividends and the excessive interference from the public representatives. He was labeled a rightist and handed over to the masses for supervision and reform.

Lou Bancheng looked at the bent-over figure on the stage, his hands slowly clenching. Tan Yali stood beside him, her lips pressed into a thin line.

After the meeting, the two walked back in silence. Tan Yali spoke, her voice very soft: "If Zhu Zi hadn't advised you to take the initiative to join the joint venture back then, you'd probably be receiving education every day now, and it might be even more troublesome."

Lou Bancheng didn't speak. He went home and into his study, sitting in the leather chair for a long time. On the study wall hung the front-page photo from the *Beijing Daily*, showing him standing at the entrance of the municipal government building, holding the joint venture approval document. That photo had been hanging there for years, but only today did he truly understand Zhu Zi's intention.

Not only did they protect their family property and reputation, but they also built an impenetrable protective barrier for the Lou family. Furthermore, Xiao'e's song "Me and My Motherland" was so popular that even city leaders knew the Lou family's daughter had written a patriotic song that was published in the newspaper; she was a progressive youth recognized by the municipal government.

With these two factors combined, no one dared to easily pin a accusation on the Lou family.

Every night, He Yuzhu would walk around the outer wall of the courtyard house. With the Anti-Rightist Campaign in full swing, the beasts in the courtyard were unlikely to behave themselves. He spread his spatial perception and stood in the shadow of the outer wall, listening from the backyard.

In the backyard, Liu Haizhong was copying operating procedures, Wang Caifeng was sewing shoe soles under the lamp, and the old deaf man was huddled on the kang (a heated brick bed) shivering.

In the west wing of the central courtyard, Jia Zhangshi was whispering to Jia Dongxu that Qin Huairu's baby was definitely a grandson, and that she had dreamt of Old Jia appearing in her dream. They decided to rent the east wing tomorrow, as Wu Xiulan had moved away after getting married.

He Yuzhu walked to the outer wall of the front yard and stopped.

Yan Bugui was still awake; the light was on in the room. Yan Jiefang was slumped over the table, while Yan Bugui held a pair of scissors, with old newspapers and a bowl of paste spread out in front of them.

Dozens of small square pieces of paper, cut from the edges of old newspapers, were already written on the table. Each square piece had a crooked character on it, some written with the left hand and some in a child's handwriting. Yan Bugui dipped chopsticks in glue and pasted the square pieces of paper one by one onto another old newspaper to piece together a complete sentence.

Yan Jiefang wrote several more sheets and handed them over. Yan Bugui took them, looked at them, and handed them back, lowering his voice to tell him to write "colluding with enemy agents" clearly, making the strokes longer so that no one could recognize the handwriting.

Yan Jiefang nodded and continued writing while leaning on the table.

He Yuzhu's senses scanned the entire letter of denunciation. It stated that He Yuzhu, deputy head of the supply department of the supply and marketing cooperative, colluded with enemy agents, assaulted revolutionary masses, abused his purchasing power to resell state goods, and hoarded goods for exorbitant profits.

He finished reading the letter of complaint, leaned against the wall, and slowly lit a cigarette. This letter was truly ruthless; this time, they even knew to break down the words and have the child write them, then cut them out and piece them together.

If someone reports you in this situation, you'll inevitably be suspended from work and investigated; you could lose your job, and in more serious cases, you could be sent to a labor camp.

He stubbed out his cigarette, went back to the side courtyard, took a grand chair and sat down there. In the darkness, his spatial awareness continued to cover the Yan family's residence.

Watching Yan Bugui put the letter of complaint into his pocket and then fasten the pocket with a safety pin. Watching Yan Bugui turn off the light and lie down fully clothed.

At two o'clock in the morning, Yan Bugui left home with the letter of complaint in his hand. He was afraid that someone would see him mailing the letter during the day, and even more afraid that leaving his handwriting on the letter if he went to the post office to mail it, so he had to put the letter into the complaint box by hand.

He tiptoed out of the courtyard gate when a wooden stick struck him on the head with a dull thud. Yan Bugui's body went limp, and a hand that had been grabbing him vanished into thin air.

Yan Bugui woke up in excruciating pain. It was pitch black; he couldn't see anything. He tried to move, but he couldn't. His limbs felt like they were nailed to the air; he couldn't even lift a finger.

His head was still throbbing, but the pain in his leg was even worse. Someone was hitting his leg. With a crack, his left femur broke, and he screamed in agony, his voice carrying not far in the darkness. "Who! Who's... there?"

No one answered.

The stick fell again, crack! His right calf broke, and the pain made his whole body spasm. He tried to curl up but couldn't, he tried to struggle but couldn't move. Then came his arm, crack, crack, the sound of bones breaking traveled up the bone, clearer than his ears could hear.

He was in so much pain that he felt like his body was falling apart, and his screams turned into dry howls.

Someone was speaking. The voice seeped from the darkness, its distance indiscernible. "Your eldest son is gone, it's your own doing. Now it's your second son's turn. You'd better keep a close eye on him."

Yan Bugui trembled all over, his teeth chattering. Another wave of excruciating pain hit him, his vision went black, and he fainted.

When he woke up again, he was in a hospital bed.

With his limbs in casts and his head wrapped up, his body looked as if it had been taken apart and then put back together.

Yang Ruihua sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes red and swollen. Yan Bugui's first question upon waking was whether the letter of denunciation was still there.

Yang Ruihua was stunned for a moment and said no, even your pockets were turned inside out and emptied, the police said you were robbed.

Yan Bugui closed his eyes, the dull pain from his limbs shooting up his bones, but what terrified him even more was that voice.

Your eldest son is gone, it's your own fault, now it's your second son's turn.

Liberation is in danger. He suddenly opened his eyes, his voice trembling: "Where is Liberation?"

Yang Ruihua said he went to school.

Unable to move, Yan Bugui shouted, "Don't let him go to school! He's not going anymore!"

Yang Ruihua looked at him with surprise and suspicion.

Yan Bugui lay his head back down, staring at the ceiling of the ward, the voice echoing in his mind. It must be related to Sha Zhu; he reported Sha Zhu for everything that happened to him.

He recalled the darkness, the fear of being nailed to the ground, unable to move, unable to see, and having his bones break inch by inch.

He looked up at his limbs, which were covered in plaster casts, wondering if he would be a cripple for the rest of his life.