For a long time, Li Xiaonan hadn’t come to Courtyard No. 55 to visit Chen Shen. Sometimes, Chen Shen would feel a sense of loss, thinking that Li Xiaonan herself was like a vast and elusive dream.
Su Sansheng, on the other hand, frequently drove to Li Xiaonan’s building. He would take her to the film set. Sometimes, for small roles like hers, Li Xiaonan would wait an entire day at the set, only to have her scene scheduled at dusk. But this reinforced Su Sansheng’s belief that this carefree woman from Yancheng was indeed an actress with a star company. Of course, Su Sansheng didn’t believe Li Xiaonan’s claim that the role played by Bai Yang in Crossroads had originally been hers.
Li Xiaonan greatly admired a woman named Zhou Xuan from Changzhou. Once, while eating hot wontons at a night stall, she told this to Su Sansheng. The night was deep, and the dim yellow streetlights seemed to struggle, their light barely reaching. The steam from the wontons soon enveloped Li Xiaonan. To Su Sansheng, she appeared as if she were steaming herself. Li Xiaonan exaggeratedly said, “Zhou Xuan is simply not human, Zhou Xuan is like a bird.”
That night, Su Sansheng drove Li Xiaonan home. As she swayed unsteadily towards the building, swinging her bag, Su Sansheng offered, “Let me help you up.” Li Xiaonan, with a satisfied belch, replied, “I have plenty of feet.” That night, Su Sansheng watched as Li Xiaonan’s figure was swallowed by the darkness of the stairwell. Then he turned off the car’s headlights and sat there for a long time, pondering a very important question. When Li Xiaonan was taken to the hospital for stomach pain, two of his men were present the entire time. No one from Courtyard No. 55 had left even for a moment. So how had the military agents managed to evacuate the entire Dafang Hotel?
That same night, Chen Shen appeared in Li Xiaonan’s room. He poured himself a glass of water, like a stranger visiting as a guest. He saw Li Xiaonan curled up on the sofa, knitting a red wool scarf. It was obvious she wasn’t skilled at it, and she never once looked up at Chen Shen. Throughout the long night, neither of them spoke. Finally, Chen Shen broke the silence, “Are you knitting that scarf for Su Sansheng?”
Li Xiaonan replied, “Yes, he needs a scarf. He’d probably look good wearing one. He’s thin.”
“Your judgment is off.”
“What do you mean my judgment is off?”
“Su Sansheng isn’t right for you. He’s nothing but a thug, a scumbag.”
“Then who is right for me?”
“You'll regret this.”
Li Xiaonan smiled and said, “I’m not afraid of regret, only of never having the chance to regret.”
That night, Chen Shen stayed at Li Xiaonan’s place until very late, even though they didn’t say much. He gave her a Cherry brand cigarette, and they smoked together, exhaling clouds of smoke. Soon, a thin layer of smoke surrounded them. After a while, Chen Shen stood up to leave. When he opened the door, a gust of wind rushed in, dispersing the smoke and bringing a slight chill to Li Xiaonan. She pulled her body tighter on the sofa, watching as the door closed behind him. Chen Shen was gone.
Li Xiaonan sat there on the sofa for a while, throwing aside the unfinished red scarf she was knitting. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She clutched her abdomen, slowly curling up, her face pressing against the velvet surface of the sofa. She stared blankly as the harsh white light filled every corner of the room, her gaze fixed on a motionless gecko lurking on the wall.
The next day at noon, as Li Xiaonan lazily walked out of her apartment building, she saw Su Sansheng suddenly emerge from a car parked under the shade of a French plane tree. He was carrying a long string of paper-wrapped traditional medicine. Sunlight streamed down, half blocked by a wall, casting him in a mix of light and shadow as he raised the medicine high in the air. Proudly, he said, “I’m going to cure your stomach illness for good.”
Before Tang Shanhai's execution, Chen Shen brought a pair of barber scissors to the special treatment room where Tang was being held. When the door opened, Tang Shanhai was standing with his back to him, gazing out of a small window the size of a washbasin. Light and shadows fell on him, making his figure appear tall and slender, like a pine tree. When Tang turned around, Chen Shen noticed his freshly shaved face, clean and neat, and the suit he wore was crisp and sharp. Tang smiled at him and said, “I knew you would come.”
That day, Chen Shen gave Tang Shanhai a haircut. Though Tang's hair wasn’t long, he was happy to have it cut. For a brief moment, Chen Shen saw tears welling up in the corners of Tang’s eyes, but Tang quickly wiped them away with his fingers. “This trachoma is an old problem,” Tang said.
Chen Shen knew Tang was trying to cover up his feelings. That day, Chen Shen carefully brushed off the small hairs from Tang’s cape and helped him stand up. They smiled at each other, face to face, without saying a word. Chen Shen watched as Tang lit his last cigar, smoking it halfway before extinguishing it. He seriously took Chen Shen’s hand, placing the cigar in his palm, and whispered, “If you’re going to smoke, smoke Heng cigars.” Chen Shen closed his hand around it, then walked out through the iron door of the special treatment room. He knew Tang’s eyes were on his back the whole time, because he could feel a faint warmth on his back.
At the grove, Bi Zhong Liang personally oversaw the execution. That day, he wore a long leather coat and sunglasses. To Chen Shen, the distance between himself and Bi seemed vast through those sunglasses. The grave for Tang Shanhai was already dug, black and deep, open to the sky like an eye staring into the heavens. But Tang didn’t walk toward the pit. Instead, he said, “I’m waiting for him to come.”
And indeed, he came. It was Su Sansheng.
Su Sansheng arrived in a hurry, sweat beading on his forehead. He stood in front of Tang, steaming like a freshly steamed bun. Tang Shanhai laughed and said, “You really do look like a bun.”
That day, Tang said, “We were brothers once, and I have something to say.” He first tightly embraced Chen Shen, his lips brushing Chen’s ear as he whispered softly, as if in a dream, “I know you’re with the Communists. I need you to do something for me.”
Chen Shen remained silent. Tang continued, “You have to take care of Xu Bicheng for me. She’s the one I can’t stop worrying about. I love her.”
Chen Shen still said nothing. Tang whispered, “I know it’s hard for you to respond, but if you can, just smoke a cigarette in front of me later.”
Then Tang walked over to Su Sansheng. Su instinctively took a step back, but Tang smiled, opened his arms, and embraced him tightly as well. Patting Su on the back, Tang softly said, “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
Su Sansheng said bitterly, “I know there will be retribution, but before it comes, I’ll send you off first.”
Tang Shanhai smiled, continuing to pat Su Sansheng on the back and said, “Then I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”
That day, Bi Zhong Liang kept his hands in his pockets, his lips tightly pressed, not saying a word. The order to carry out the execution was originally supposed to come from Chen Shen, but suddenly, Su Sansheng erupted, shoving Tang Shanhai and shouting, “It can start! Let him go!”
Chen Shen watched as Tang Shanhai walked step by step towards the deep pit, moving with such calmness as if he were strolling down a tree-lined path or heading to a park. Tang stood still in the pit, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like a bird in flight before he looked up at the leaves above. Through the gaps in the leaves, small patches of light filtered down, some of them falling in dappled patterns on Tang Shanhai’s face. Along with those patches of light came shovelfuls of black soil, landing on his face as well.
At that moment, Chen Shen lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Tang Shanhai smiled, then began to sing, his voice deep and powerful: “The Great Wall stretches for thousands of miles, and beyond it lies my homeland…” His voice grew fainter as the soil reached his chest, suppressing his breath. By the time the soil covered his neck, his face had turned crimson, the blood rushing upwards. Bi Zhong Liang, with his hands still in his leather coat pockets, strode away, followed closely by Chen Shen.
Chen Shen never knew what happened afterward in the grove. Everything was later told to him by Bian Tou. Su Sansheng had violently kicked Tang Shanhai in the head, and at that moment, a fountain of blood, already building up in Tang’s head, burst forth. Su Sansheng’s tightly clenched lips never relaxed; it seemed as though he harbored a deep hatred for Tang, as if Tang had ruined his entire life.
That night, Li Xiaonan unexpectedly visited an apartment on the third floor of Fuxu Village. At that moment, Xu Bicheng was sobbing uncontrollably in Chen Shen’s arms, her tears flowing endlessly. Her cries were like the ridges of a mountain stretching for miles, rising and falling. At times, she bit down hard on Chen Shen’s shoulder, and he felt the pain. By the time she let go, his shoulder was soaked with her tears. Xu Bicheng didn’t know that Li Xiaonan had followed Chen Shen here. Through the crack in the door, Li Xiaonan saw Xu Bicheng weeping in Chen Shen’s arms.
“You two aren’t really married, are you?” Chen Shen asked.
Xu Bicheng looked up cautiously, “Who said that?”
“I guessed.”
Xu Bicheng replied, “Not entirely. He’s always been good to me, but I never accepted him.”
“You should have accepted him.”
“What difference does it make now, whether I accepted him or not?”
“If you had accepted him, he might have left this world a bit more at peace.”
Xu Bicheng was silent for a long time before softly saying, “I know you’re with the Communists.”
Chen Shen didn’t respond. He glanced at his shoulder, where the fabric was still dark and wet, and said, “Whether you accepted him or not, he would have asked me to take care of you.”
Xu Bicheng said again, “I said I know you’re with the Communists.”
Chen Shen neither confirmed nor denied it. “I’m just trying to save my country. We can’t be without a country, and neither can our children.”
That day, Xu Bicheng noticed the platinum pocket watch hanging from Chen Shen’s chest, but she didn’t see Li Xiaonan leaving the door in tears. It was much later when Chen Shen gently pushed Xu Bicheng away and said, “Let me take care of you from now on. Just now… someone left your door.”
Xu Bicheng’s face immediately turned pale. Chen Shen reassured her, “Don’t worry, she won’t harm you.”
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