Shuangling: Braving the Rapids

"Qin Ergou! You really can't say anything nice! You can make such a fuss over a simple fire! Are you done yet? If you're done, get out of here!" Ma Xiangju finished her chores and took small steps toward the campfire, only to hear Qin Ergou's dirty jokes, which made her immediately start cursing.

A while ago, Qin Ergou spread rumors about Ma Xiangju and Aimin in the village. Ma Xiangju was furious when she heard about it, and the two became enemies. Taking advantage of the fact that everyone was there, this fierce out-of-town wife was determined to teach the other party a lesson.

The shameless Qin Ergou wasn't about to back down easily. Instead of restraining himself, he openly flirted with Xiangju, saying, "Hey Xiangju, it's so dark outside. Aren't you at home watching your dog? What's with staring at me? Are you interested in me?"

Upon hearing this, everyone burst into laughter, but Ma Xiangju's face immediately darkened. She pulled a fire poker from the fire and thrust it straight at Qin Ergou's face. Fortunately, Qin Ergou dodged quickly, otherwise this blow would have been enough to give him a hard time!

"Huozi's wife! You can't do that! The brigade leader and Aimin are right here, don't let people laugh at you!" Although Qin Ergou was a coward who was all bark and no bite, he was really good with words. At this moment, he deliberately mentioned Aimin to disgust Ma Xiangju.

Ma Xiangju was filled with hatred and anger. She grabbed a fire poker and chased after Qin Ergou, hitting him. This time, the woman had no intention of holding back. She caught up with him in a few steps, and several black holes were burned into the back of Ergou's tattered cotton-padded jacket.

"Xiangju! You can't do this for real! I... I have a heart condition!" Qin Ergou covered his head and tried to dive into the crowd, but before he could finish speaking, the fire poker slammed down on his head.

"Ouch!"

Qin Ergou let out a scream, followed by a pungent smell of burning hair.

Did that blow really hurt? Not necessarily. The firewood stick was brittle, but when the red-hot tip swept across the top of the head, it singed a tuft of yellow hair.

"I'll teach you to spew filth from your mouth! I'm going to sew your asshole and mouth shut today!" Ma Xiangju didn't stop, chasing after him with a broken stick. She wanted to vent all the anger she had suffered in the past tonight.

The two men circled the campfire, and the onlookers laughed until they were breathless, but not a single person tried to stop them from fighting.

Qin Ergou was filled with remorse. He was running for his life with his butt sticking out when he was tripped by a foot that suddenly appeared from the shadows and fell flat on his face. Just as he was about to get up, he was kicked in the lower back, and the pain made him howl like a piglet being slaughtered.

"Xiangju, I was wrong! I will never talk nonsense again from now on, or I will make sure my son is born without an anus!" Er Gou shouted his oath, which finally made Ma Xiangju hold back seven-tenths of her strength—if she really wanted to kill him, she could have kept him lying on the kang for at least ten days or half a month.

A few older women offered perfunctory advice, but most people, like Qin Laishun, were simply enjoying the spectacle. The night was still long, and this dog chasing a mantis was far more exciting than listening to a storyteller…

Night fell, and the temperature plummeted.

The rafters that Qin Laishun had brought earlier had burned to charcoal, but some people were reluctant to leave. They somehow brought over several bundles of soybean stalks and threw them all into the fire.

This was the final, wild moment of the bonfire party. The bean stalks exploded at the slightest spark, crackling and popping as flames darted about, startling several timid women who screamed in terror. When they came to their senses, they grabbed the brat who had been adding firewood and were about to curse him, the popping of beans mixed with spittle and chaos turning the place upside down.

The firelight illuminated the faces, making them appear grotesque and bizarre. In a dark corner where the flames couldn't reach, an old man in a sheepskin coat was curled up.

The old man had long lost the dignified air of a retired soldier. He was panting heavily, his face contorted in pain, and his forehead was covered in large beads of sweat. Strangely, just a moment ago he was leisurely smoking his pipe and watching, how did he suddenly become like this? Was his old ailment about to flare up again?

Then he covered his ears and shuffled towards the corner of the wall, seemingly very averse to the sound of the bean stalks popping. After a short while, Qin Yunhai's legs went weak, and he slid down the wall to the ground.

Cold sweat streamed down his deeply furrowed forehead. The old man's eyes clearly reflected the leaping flames, but the halo suddenly twisted and swelled, and his soul was "whooshed" back to the scorched earth of the thirty-eighth degree line.

Scorched earth mixed with blood and cement slurry was poured into the boots. He watched helplessly as his comrades in the Fifth Platoon were blown to bits by incendiary bombs, while he felt like he was nailed to the trench, watching tanks roll over the trenches. The enemy soldiers in leather boots had already swarmed in and were using flamethrowers to perform a final disinfection of a mangled corpse.

"Squad leader! Er Mao!"

"You beasts! You animals!"

With red eyes, the old soldier roared, leaped out of the tunnel, picked up his PPSh-41, and unleashed a barrage of fire at the invading enemy.

"Da da da, da da da..."

No matter how hard the veteran pulled the trigger, the enemy on the other side of the flash was not hindered in the slightest. They treated him as nothing, passing by him and completely destroying the position beneath their feet...

The roar of assault rifles mingled with the sound of pods exploding, blurring the lines between illusion and reality. The past and present overlapped, and those horrifying scenes from the battlefield overwhelmed the old soldier's mind.

Qin Yunhai had no idea where he was. He was hunched over and kept dry heaving, his fingernails scratching five white marks into the rammed earth wall.

Fear, fear from the depths of the soul.

Qin Yunhai was tormented to the point of near death, his body trembling like a leaf. After half a cigarette's worth of time, he finally coughed up a mouthful of bloody phlegm that was choking him.

He was such a proud and self-respecting person. If he had an epileptic seizure in a crowded place and people saw him foaming at the mouth and convulsing on the ground, it would be a humiliation for him.

Since the beginning of winter, he has been suffering from frequent illnesses. Apart from gritting his teeth and enduring it, he really doesn't have any good solutions. He wants a decent life, but if he really becomes a laughing stock, he has nothing to say.

Compared to his comrades who are buried in foreign lands, Qin Yunhai is fortunate to have returned to his hometown alive.