War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 1897 A Cup of Xiangjiang Water, A Bowl of Nostalgia

When the white light faded again, Wei Ran found himself still in the beautiful van with 23 windows, and outside the van was the street where the donations were collected and Cheng Guanyin donated money back then.

Right where the fundraising platform was set up back then, a three-wheeled motorcycle was parked on the roadside. Bright lights shone down from the top of the bamboo pole that the motorcycle had set up, illuminating everything under the lights.

By the light, he could clearly see the words "The Taste of Changsha" written on the white cloth that served as a signboard, as well as "Free Hot Water" on the protective board around the stove, and even the words "Big Knife Stinky Tofu" on the apron worn by the elderly Cheng Guanyin.

Of course, there was also the small stool tied to the lower leg of his missing foot. Because of that stool, every time Cheng Guanyin moved, it would make a "clattering" sound, like a wooden horse.

Besides Cheng Guanyin and his stall, there were also quite a few children gathered around it.

These little bean sprouts politely call him "Grandpa Cheng" or less politely "Crazy Grandpa," while pitifully begging him to give them a few more pieces of stinky tofu.

Regardless of whether the little ones addressed him politely or not, Cheng Guanyin would happily respond loudly and would actually fry a few more pieces of stinky tofu.

And those children, regardless of how polite their address was, would always accept the fried stinky tofu in half a bamboo tube and respond crisply with "Thank you, Grandpa," and might even bow politely.

Beside his stinky tofu stall, there was a young beggar who had lost a leg below the knee—on the same side as Cheng Guanyin's crippled leg.

That was Lin Ayong. He was holding an enamel mug and shaking it constantly, causing the coins inside to collide with the mug and make a pleasant clinking sound.

Next to him was a small enamel plate with a few pieces of uneaten fried stinky tofu inside.

Some of the children would put some of their change into Lin Ayong's enamel mug after buying stinky tofu. The latter, like a coin-operated jukebox, would nod his head and sing a song called "A Cup of Bitter Wine".

Objectively speaking, Lin Ayong's voice is indeed quite good, and he sang this song with great charm.

Unfortunately, that's life. Once you go astray, it's too late to turn back. If he had released Cheng Guanyin back then, he might not have ended up like this.

Instinctively, Wei Ran tried to push open the door and get out of the car, but found nothing.

Looking down, the Volkswagen van had no door handles at all, and even the windows were completely sealed off.

Are they preventing me from getting off the bus?
Wei Ran easily understood what the living father meant, and then subconsciously looked into the car.

On the passenger seat, which was arranged in a row, lay a stack of newspapers. The date of publication was September 15, 1970, which was the Mid-Autumn Festival. In addition to various Mid-Autumn Festival celebrations, there were also some advertisements for mooncakes.

Looking back at the carriage behind him, Wei Ran was speechless. The back of the carriage was filled with a lot of things, mostly his belongings from when he sold pancakes at his stall—it was as if he were moving house and fleeing a disaster.

"Ah Yong, there's one left. Take it for a late-night snack."

Just as Wei Ran turned back to look outside, he clearly heard Cheng Guanyin's voice through the sealed window and saw Cheng Guanyin hand a plate of fried stinky tofu to the beggar Lin Ayong.

Almost subconsciously, he took out his Nikon camera and aimed it at the two people under the streetlights across the street. With each click of the shutter, he captured Cheng Guanyin handing out the stinky tofu and Lin Ayong crawling over to take the stinky tofu with both hands and then kowtowing.

"It's Mid-Autumn Festival, go buy some mooncakes and eat them, don't gamble anymore."

Cheng Guanyin handed Lin Ayong a few more banknotes, and then, amidst Lin Ayong's profuse thanks, he untied the stool strapped to his calves and placed it in the cargo bed. He then walked with some difficulty to the driver's seat, leaning on his crutches, and started the vehicle.

Coming to his senses, Wei Ran quickly started the van that had trapped him and followed the tricycle from a distance.

Halfway there, he had a rough idea of ​​where the other party was going, so he stepped on the gas and drove the van past them, arriving at the dock first and parking the van at the spot where it had first appeared.

To his surprise, before he could even see Cheng Guanyin, a T1 van of the exact same model, only with a red and white color scheme, drove up and stopped next to his vehicle.

"Ahua, aren't you sure you won't get your legs broken for stealing your dad's car? Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival, and you don't even have a driver's license."

Before the car could be turned off, Wei Ran heard a young girl inside ask in a pleasant voice with concern.

“My dad took my mom on a business trip to Feilv Funeral Home a week ago, so we don’t have to be afraid even if we sleep at my house.”

Before he finished speaking, the young man driving the car had already impatiently moved to the relatively spacious passenger seat.

"I'm not going to your house. Your doghouse is full of stinky socks and it's filthy."

The young girl who was originally sitting in the passenger seat complained, but she also skillfully straddled the young man's lap.

What the hell.
Is it Xiao Wu's son, Li Minghua? Is he an adult?
Wei Ran couldn't help but chuckle. He never expected to see such a sight. The young man was probably only 17 years old at the moment, a good prospect to become a stepping stone.

However, before Li Minghua could even put his arm around the girl's waist, Cheng Guanyin arrived on his three-wheeled motorcycle with the sputtering sound of an engine.

"Who is that? What a spoilsport!"

In the driver's seat next door, the young woman quickly got off Li Minghua's lap, hurriedly adjusting her floral dress that she hadn't had time to lift.

“That’s my uncle,” Li Minghua said with a sigh of relief.

"Were you brought here? Should we run away?" the young woman asked in a panic.

"Don't worry, there's no need to run away. My uncle is a very nice person. Every time my dad hits me, I hide at his house and he always protects me."

Li Minghua said, "And his fried stinky tofu is delicious, would you like to try some?"

"Eat my tofu or his tofu, you choose one!"

The fiery young woman's irritating warning finally stopped Li Minghua from making a foolish mistake.

But then, the girl asked curiously, "Why is he here? Shouldn't the sailors have all gone home by now?"

“I guess he’s homesick,” Li Minghua said confidently. “I often run into him here.”

While the young man and woman were secretly speculating, Cheng Guanyin had already stopped the car, turned on the lights again, set up the stall, and carefully fried a portion of stinky tofu, placing it on the small stool.

They were being spied on by the young couple in the car next door, and also by Wei Ran, who was holding a camera.

Cheng Guanyin limped out of the car and took out an incense burner and a bundle of incense sticks, placing them on a small stool. He then took out a plate of mooncakes and placed it on the only remaining space on the stool. Finally, he pulled out the large knife and gently leaned it against the small stool.

In Wei Ran's repeated shutter clicks, Cheng Guanyin lit incense sticks and placed them in the incense burner. He knelt down with difficulty and respectfully bowed to the bench and the broadsword, towards the mainland, and perhaps even towards Changsha, before kowtowing heavily.

"Father—! Mother—! Binjuan—! Anzhi—! Huiqian—!"

Cheng Guanyin leaned against the front wheel of his three-wheeled motorcycle, weeping and shouting in his dialect for the people he longed for, but all he received in return were the crashing waves and the cool breeze blowing from the mainland.

"Ahua, let's go keep him company."

In the van next door, the young woman said, "Didn't we buy beer and food? How about we go keep him company?"

"Go, go."

As Li Minghua spoke, he pushed open the car door, then opened the split door in the back of the car and picked up the ice bucket filled with beer.

A little later, the pretty young woman also grabbed a cardboard box filled with various snacks and chased after them.

As the shutter of Wei Ran's Nikon camera flashed, the two young people who had come for a rendezvous sat down next to Cheng Guanyin, who was old but crying like a child because of homesickness. They awkwardly comforted each other like two little adults, and sincerely shared the ice-cold beer and various snacks that they had brought, and even the cigarettes that Li Minghua had stolen from his home.

Ugh.
Unable to open the car door or the window, Wei Ran gave up struggling and could only press the shutter button again and again through the car window—just as helpless as when Cheng Guanyin had his foot chopped off by the young man here.

Until he ran out of film in his camera, until white light surged in front of him once again.

When the white light faded again, Wei Ran found himself still in the van—the doors and windows were still locked.

However, this time, the car wasn't parked on the side of that street; instead, it was parked at...
After looking around, Wei Ran couldn't help but sigh. He recognized the place; it was the banks of the Xiang River.

Even without looking at the newspaper on the passenger seat, he knew that it must be 1987 at this moment.

After failing to open the car door, Wei Ran picked up the People's Daily from the passenger seat.

Sure enough, this was published on November 6, 1987, with a prominent headline: "The wave of compatriots from Taiping Island visiting relatives continues to expand, and the first batch of people arriving in Guangzhou reunite with their families."

Putting down the newspaper, Wei Ran looked out the car window but couldn't help but sigh and shake his head again.

Nearly half a century has passed, and the Xiangjiang River is still the same Xiangjiang River, but the city on its banks has undergone tremendous changes, and a new bridge has been built not far away.

These changes left the aged Cheng Guanyin with only bewilderment and helplessness on his face—he could no longer find his home, nor could he find that stone.

After another unsuccessful attempt to open the car door, Wei Ran raised his camera, aimed it at Cheng Guanyin kneeling and kowtowing towards the Xiangjiang River outside the car window, and pressed the shutter repeatedly.

Li Minghua, who is already in his thirties, is also pressing the shutter.

Beside him, besides a little boy who looked no more than ten years old, was a woman wiping away tears—the beautiful girl who had met Li Minghua at the dock.

Under the gaze of these two cameras, Cheng Guanyin, with tears streaming down his face, knelt by the riverbank, laboriously bending down to scoop up handfuls of Xiangjiang River water and drink it in large gulps. Eventually, he was choked by the river water and his tears, coughing repeatedly and crying uncontrollably.

When Cheng Guanyin calmed down again as Li Minghua's wife gently patted his back, he tremblingly took off a water bottle slung across his waist, filled it with river water, and carefully tightened the lid—he was home, but he had no home anymore.

"Uncle, where are we going next?" Li Minghua asked, helping Cheng Guanyin to his feet.

"Let's go for a stroll in the city. I'll take you to eat the most authentic Changsha stinky tofu."

Cheng Guanyin sighed helplessly, "Then...then...let's go to Tainan." As Cheng Guanyin sighed, Wei Ran, who had been trying to push open the door and even shouting and banging on the car window but received no response, was once again swallowed by the intense white light.

"Why did you lock me in the car?! What are you afraid of?!"

Amid Wei Ran's angry shouts, the white light dissipated once again, and this time, outside the car window was the small street in the military dependents' village.

Exhausted, Wei Ran took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down before looking out the window again.

Across the road diagonally in front of the car, the elderly Cheng Guanyin still had his roadside stall, surrounded by a group of children.

The children still called out "Grandpa Cheng" or "Crazy Grandpa," and still begged for more stinky tofu, and still received Cheng Guanyin's doting promise.

Apart from Cheng Guanyin looking much older, nothing seemed to have changed.

Across from this small stall, to the left front of Wei Ran's van, there was a shop converted from a street-facing residential building with a sign that read "Old Shanghai Photo Studio".

At the shop entrance, Li Minghua, who is around forty years old, is fiddling with a Pentax camera that has just been loaded with film, seemingly preparing to take pictures of the other side of the street.

I subconsciously looked across the street and saw a sign that read "Lu's Clinic" hanging behind Cheng Guanyin's stall.

Beneath that sign, Li Xiaowu and that old man Lu were locked in a fierce battle of chess around a chessboard by the roadside—they were old, like frail, elderly men.

I subconsciously glanced at the passenger seat, where, besides a newspaper published on November 19, 1998, there was a Pentax 67ii camera lying on top of it.

Should we use this to take the picture?
Wei Ran reached out and picked up the heavy camera. After some skillful adjustments, he first took a test shot of Li Xiaowu and Brother Lu across the street, and then pointed the 165mm F2.8 lens at Cheng Guanyin.

"Ugh"

Reluctant to press the shutter, Wei Ran couldn't help but look away from the viewfinder and gaze out the car window again.

He was afraid, or rather, he had a strong premonition that the shutter button he pressed was the signal for Cheng Guanyin's death.

Perhaps sensing something, Cheng Guanyin, holding bamboo clips, straightened up after dismissing the young diners, and looked over with a bright smile and the sunlight shining on his smile, looking at Wei Ran, who had returned to his youthful vigor and was hiding in the car.

"Crack!"

Amidst the crisp shutter sound characteristic of Pentax cameras, Wei Ran finally hardened his heart and captured a glimpse of tranquility at the end of Cheng Guanyin's life of suffering.

"Clang!"

The bamboo clip in Cheng Guanyin's hand slipped and hit the side panel of the exceptionally clean three-wheeled motorcycle. After bouncing for a moment, it landed under the chassis of the three-wheeled motorcycle, startling a young man carrying a briefcase who seemed to have just finished get off work.

As Wei Ran held his breath and pressed the shutter repeatedly, Cheng Guanyin clutched his heart with one hand, but after a moment of pain, he seemed to see something on his face, and then an unstoppable smile appeared.

In another shot taken by Wei Ran, he dipped his hand, covered in age spots and scars from mustard, into the boiling oil and scooped up a piece of stinky tofu that wasn't fully fried.

At the same time, Li Minghua handed the camera in his hand to the young man who had just finished get off work and ran over. A man who looked to be about the same age as Li Minghua and was wearing a white coat also ran out of the clinic.

However, before the man in the white coat could insert the first silver needle into Cheng Guanyin's skin, and before Cheng Guanyin could even eat the piece of fried stinky tofu in his hand...

The hand that was holding the stinky tofu and the hand that was covering his chest slipped limply to the ground.

"Crack!"

Trapped inside the car, Wei Ran and the young man outside the window, who seemed to have just finished get off work, pressed the shutter at the same time, taking the last photo of Cheng Guanyin in his life of suffering.

"That's fine."

With a weary sigh from Wei Ran, the white light engulfed everything around them.

When the white light finally disappeared, Wei Ran completely relaxed, and he finally returned to that small Western-style building.

He rubbed his face vigorously and looked at the still steaming and fragrant sesame seed cakes, sausages, stewed meat, salted tofu soup, and stir-fried pickled vegetables on the table.

I'm home.
Wei Ran sighed, broke open a sesame seed cake, stuffed it with pre-cut sausage, took a big bite, and then looked at the metal notebook.

At this moment, the metal quill pen had already written lines of blood-red text:
乡愁
Cook He Wenniu, in late May 1943, during the Battle of Shipai, killed four enemy soldiers in hand-to-hand combat before dying alongside the invaders.

In July of the same year, his father, He Kugen, collected his body, cremated it, and brought it back to his hometown in Chongqing for burial.

Cheng Bingquan, a cook, killed six enemy soldiers in hand-to-hand combat during the Battle of Shipai in late May 1943. Due to severe injuries, he fell into a coma and was mistakenly transferred to the rear for treatment as a civilian laborer, and recorded as having died in battle.

In July of the same year, he was adopted by the laborer He Kugen and taken back to his hometown in Chongqing to recuperate.

The following spring, through the matchmaking of his adoptive father He Kugen, Cheng Bingquan married Huang Qingqiu, who was originally betrothed to He Wenniu. Later, through the introduction of Huang Qingqiu and her father Huang the carpenter, he joined the underground party and served as an intelligence agent.

In the spring of 1952, when Cheng Bingquan returned to his hometown to pay respects to his ancestors, he unexpectedly reunited with his nephew Cheng Huaiqian on the banks of the Xiangjiang River.

In the winter of 1954, he passed away due to a worsening of his lung injury. The following summer, his wife, Huang Qingqiu, died of excessive grief and longing. He left behind a son, Cheng Xiaoxian, who was adopted by his friend Chen Shun.

After the Battle of Shipai, He Kugen, a laborer, joined the underground Communist Party through his in-laws' introduction and served as an intelligence agent.

In the summer of 1944, He Kugen sacrificed his life to protect an underground intelligence station.

Amid Wei Ran's regretful sighs, the metal quill pen did not stop. After starting a new line, it wrote down a story related to Cheng Guanyin.

Cheng Guanyin, a communications soldier, killed nine enemy soldiers in hand-to-hand combat during the Battle of Shipai in late May 1943. He was then surrounded and, along with his friend Yang Qizhi, jumped off a cliff. He survived by jumping off a cliff alone and was later rescued by civilians. He was listed among the casualties of the Battle of Shipai.

In the autumn of the same year, after recovering from his injuries, Cheng Guanyin was conscripted into the 10th Army of the National Revolutionary Army on his way back to his unit, where he served as a communications soldier.

During the Battle of Hengyang, Cheng Guanyin held out for 47 days. During the street fighting when the city fell, he was buried when his house collapsed. He was rescued by a team that carried corpses and managed to escape by hiding under the decaying bodies. He was later rescued again by guerrillas outside Hengyang.

After the end of the Anti-Japanese War, Cheng Guanyin had no intention of participating in the Chinese Civil War. He traveled back and forth between Hengyang, Changsha, Shipai and other places to look for his younger brother Cheng Bingquan and his wife and children, but to no avail.

In October 1949, after making inquiries from various sources, he followed the remnants of the 18th Army to Xiamen to rejoin the army. He served as a cook and followed the remnants of the 18th Army to Tai Island to find his younger brother, Cheng Bingquan.

In 1964, Cheng Guanyin attempted to smuggle himself across the strait back to the mainland but was arrested. He was then disabled by a knife wound inflicted by Lin Ayong, the patrol captain at the time.

In the winter of 1987, with the help of his friends Li Xiaowu and Lu Jifang, Cheng Guanyin was finally able to return to his hometown. However, he was unable to find his relatives and returned home after a short stay of two days.

In the winter of 1998, Cheng Guanyin died of a heart attack, leaving behind a son, Cheng Huaiqian.

Chen Shun, a laborer, was originally a refugee from Henan Province. He was repeatedly forced to come to Hengyang City as a conscript.

At the end of the Battle of Hengyang, Chen Shun deserted his post, but rescued Cheng Huaiqian, the son of his friend Cheng Guanyin, and adopted him as his godson. He also buried Cheng Huaiqian's mother, Liu Yanzhi, on the banks of the Xiangjiang River outside Hengyang.

In 1948, Chen Shun assisted his adopted son Cheng Huaiqian in erecting a stone with inscriptions on the banks of the Xiangjiang River outside Changsha.

On Qingming Festival in 1952, he encountered Cheng Bingquan when he returned to the banks of the Xiangjiang River with his adopted son, Cheng Huaiqian, to pay respects to the deceased.

In the same year, Chen Shun and his son Cheng Huaiqian moved to Qingdao Island to settle down and farm with the help of Cheng Bingquan.

In 1955, he adopted Cheng Xiaoxian, the son of his friend Cheng Bingquan.

In 1976, Chen Shun died young at the age of 49 due to overwork. He left behind adopted sons Cheng Huaiqian and Cheng Xiaoxian, and grandchildren Chen Fengnian, Chen Mancang, Cheng Xianggen, and Cheng Xiangshui.

In the summer of 1982, after discussions between Cheng Huaiqian and Cheng Xiaoxian, the tombs of Cheng Bingquan and his wife, as well as the cenotaph of Liu Yanzhi and Cheng Guanyin, were moved to Qingdao Island.

Additionally, in 1971, the inscription "Cheng" on a stone tablet along the Xiangjiang River was used for the foundation laying of the sixth pier from the west of the bridge, in preparation for the construction of the Xiangjiang Bridge.

this.
Wei Ran stared blankly at the overly precise note, feeling only bitterness in his heart.

In his silence, the metal quill pen started a new line and wrote down an address on Qingdao Island, followed by a phone number and a name: Cheng Xianggen.

At this point, the metal quill pen started a new line and wrote: "The three great hardships in life are rowing a boat, blacksmithing, and grinding tofu, but none of them are as bitter as a cup of Xiangjiang River water and a bowl of homesickness separated by the strait."

With a sigh from Wei Ran, the pale yellow page was finally turned to the other side.

But this time, there was no red vortex on this side.

As he watched, the metal quill pen continued to write line after line:

Final Act
Task requirement: Escort Cheng Guanyin home for a family reunion.
"pat"

The metal quill pen, having completed its task, landed on the pale yellow paper, leaving only a countdown of just 10 days ticking away second by second.

"He needs to be taken home; it's time to take him home."

Wei Ran sighed wearily and put the sesame seed cake with sausage, which he had only eaten two bites of, back into the basket.

After taking out his cigarette case and lighting a cigarette, Wei Ran calmed himself down and opened WeChat to make a voice call to Li Yizhong.

However, before the other party could answer, he hung up and instead dialed Sui Sui. He needed the Queen's help with something else.

(End of this chapter)