That spring, the Wei River ran peacefully, the weather was favorable, and Xigou was flourishing.
Both Meng brothers had started first grade at the primary school affiliated with their Qishan ordnance factory. Meng Xiaobei had drifted from kindergarten into primary school without giving it much thought. His days continued much as before: eat his fill, fool around in the family compound until dark, then get chased home every evening by his mother wielding the butt end of a broom to finish the homework he had let pile up.
Now that Shaotang had formally become his godfather, whenever he returned to battalion headquarters and had some free time, he would stop by the Meng home for a while to see what Meng Xiaobei was up to. He already seemed completely like one of the family.
It was as though some invisible cord had tied him there, giving him something to worry about without his even realizing it. A kid couldn’t call you “Dad” for nothing, could he?
From the very first day of school, Meng Xiaobei had made it abundantly clear that he was not cut out to be a scholar. He had inherited none of his biological father’s bookish brain. He simply could not sit still long enough to read.
His father worked overtime in the workshop and his mother answered calls in the factory telephone room. Both were busy and had no time to keep him under control, so his godfather came over to inspect his homework instead.
The moment He Shaotang stepped through the door, Meng Xiaobei spotted him from the corner of his eye and quickly slapped his arithmetic textbook over his exercise book.
He Shaotang narrowed his eyes threateningly. “What are you doing?”
Meng Xiaobei said, “My homework.”
He Shaotang said, “Lift that up. Let me see.”
Meng Xiaobei immediately launched into every trick in his Thirty-Six Stratagems of shameless stalling. “Aiya, I’m not done yet! You can look when I’m finished! Hurry up and go out, go out!”
Elio’s Notes: The Thirty-Six Stratagems (三十六计) are a famous collection of traditional Chinese military and political strategies. Here the reference is purely comic: Xiaobei is deploying “every trick in the book” to keep Shaotang from seeing his homework.
He Shaotang snorted. “If I wait until you finish screwing around before checking, you’ll waste the entire night!”
Meng Xiaobei immediately turned the accusation back on him. “You interrupted my train of thought! Now I can’t solve my arithmetic problems!”
He Shaotang laughed and cursed him. “You dumbass… Can’t solve them, huh? Every time you work out a problem you look like you’re constipated. How many questions do you manage in an hour?!”
Without warning, He Shaotang struck. Fast and devious, his fingers went straight for the brat’s armpit! Xiaobei let out a wolfish Awooo! and his hand flew open, allowing Shaotang to snatch away the exercise book.
The little bastard had barely answered half a question. Most of the page was covered in drawings of tiny people!
His arithmetic textbook was just as bad. Instead of taking notes on each page, he had spent every lesson drawing little people!
He Shaotang stared in astonishment, then became genuinely interested. He flipped through the pages one by one, narrowing his eyes as he studied them. “Who are all these supposed to be?”
With his little secret exposed, Meng Xiaobei began explaining them one by one, his deep interest and pride immediately showing.
“This is our Chinese teacher. She wears huge glasses. She’s our homeroom teacher too. Every time she drinks tea during class, when she lifts her head there’s always a tea leaf stuck to her lip!”
“This is the man who teaches math. I hate him. Every time I’m busy drawing, he has to call on me to answer a question. He says my name’s easy to pronounce, so he remembers me!”
“This is Shen Dawei, my deskmate. The little fatty. The two of us are the class clowns! Hahaha!”
“And this one… um… hehe!”
On the blank endpaper at the back of his Chinese textbook was a drawing of He Shaotang. The lines were far more careful than in the other pictures; Xiaobei had obviously put real effort into it. Shaotang wore his uniform and army cap, and Xiaobei had even deliberately drawn the collar of his shirt open. The eyebrows, eyes, and expression captured a surprising amount of the real man’s spirit.
Even at that age, certain exceptional talents were already beginning to show themselves in Meng Xiaobei, though the adults around him paid no attention. Every monkey child in class scribbled pictures all over their textbooks. Who could tell which one was actually good, which one could capture a likeness? And what kind of proper future could come from drawing little pictures anyway?!
He Shaotang tried to turn another page, but Meng Xiaobei suddenly slapped his hand over it. “No more looking!”
“Tangtang—”
“Tangtang!!!”
“DAD!!!!!”
He Shaotang barked in a low voice, “You could call me Great-Grandpa and it still wouldn’t work!”
Then Shaotang discovered what Xiaobei was hiding. In the blank space on one page, the monkey child had drawn a beautiful woman who appeared to be naked, complete with two conspicuous breasts.
Meng Xiaobei’s face turned red. His narrow eyes secretly watched his godfather’s reaction.
He Shaotang cleared his throat. “Who taught you this?”
Meng Xiaobei whispered, “I saw somebody else draw one.”
He Shaotang said, “Mm…”
The two of them spoke almost simultaneously.
Meng Xiaobei said, “Tangtang, don’t tell my dad.”
Shaotang said, “Xiaobei, don’t let your dad see this. He’ll beat your ass.”
Meng Xiaobei knew his godfather still doted on him and indulged him. He would definitely keep this dirty little secret to himself.
Rarely bashful, Meng Xiaobei muttered, “Shaotang, you’re a good person…”
He Shaotang gave the kid an amused look. Little bastard’s barely grown and he already knows plenty. Way too precocious—already knows enough to draw women’s breasts. Not bad at all…
Too bad he’s still too little.
Give him a few more years. Once he grows up, I could probably sit down with him and have a proper talk about men and women.
The corner of He Shaotang’s mouth twitched upward before he shook off the ridiculous thoughts.
During the first semester of first grade, Meng Xiaobei once scored sixty-two points in mathematics!
Meng Xiaojing, who was in the class next door, scored eighty-five. The twins had deliberately been placed in separate classes. Of course, everyone at the school knew that the family compound’s two little treasures were twins. When they first arrived, teachers from all over came to stare at them out of curiosity, only to end with the same verdict: “Tsk, tsk. Strange. They don’t look alike at all!”
No teacher or classmate ever confused the twins, because Xiaobei and Xiaojing were completely different—from their faces and heights to their temperaments, even the tone and expression with which they spoke. The brothers rarely played together at school either. Each had his own circle of friends, and they did not even take the same route home after class. Meng Xiaojing played with several cleaner, tidier boys and girls. Meng Xiaobei’s followers consisted of the little fatty Shen Dawei, whose woolen trousers were forever sliding down and hanging off his backside, and a pack of monkey children who were all terrible at schoolwork!
The teacher told everyone to take their exam papers home and have a parent sign them.
Meng Xiaobei, clever as a monkey, turned around and got his godfather to sign his!
When he brought it back, the teacher looked at the signature and asked, “Your father’s surname is Meng. Who’s this person surnamed He?”
Meng Xiaobei lowered his eyelids and lied without even blinking. “My mom.”
The teacher was no fool. She immediately went to the neighboring class and asked Meng Xiaojing. Xiaojing said, “My mom’s surname is Ma. Nine out of ten Hui people are surnamed Ma.”
Meng Xiaobei was hauled to the back of the classroom and made to stand as punishment. Thoroughly disgraced, he stuffed the exam paper into his clothes and took it home.
The moment his biological father saw the score, there was no peace in the house that evening. Meng Jianmin paced back and forth across the room.
All night, Meng Jianmin nagged, “Your father went to Beijing No. 80 Middle School! One of the best middle schools in Beijing! I never scored below ninety-eight in math. Are you even my son, Meng Xiaobei?!”
Meng Xiaobei gnawed industriously on the end of his pencil like a hardworking rodent. My grades in art, handicrafts, and practical-skills class are excellent, thank you very much.
Some people were simply born with minds and attention spans that were never going to settle on textbooks. Scolding them made no difference. But the expectations of parents and the social environment of that era constrained the way Meng Jianmin thought about his son’s future. What else could a child do besides study hard, graduate, and wait for the state to assign him a satisfactory job? What other path was there?
They could not get out of the mountain valley, and even the county seat was a two-hour bus ride away. All school-age children therefore attended the primary school attached to the family compound. There was no alternative. Conditions in the mountains were harsh, and even the schoolteachers counted as special personnel sent from the cities under support policies for remote regions, education, and Third Front construction. Meng Jianmin had become absolutely convinced that his son could not be allowed to remain in Xigou. He would have to make the decision himself…
That summer, while school was out, Meng Jianmin deliberately took Meng Xiaojing to Beijing to visit their grandparents and relatives.
Meng Jianmin had more or less made up his mind. He took the younger twin to Beijing so Xiaojing could see the wider world and become familiar with the family back home. He did not take Xiaobei, because before long, once the arrangements with the school were completed, the elder twin would be sent to Beijing to live there permanently.
That year was 1976, a year in which the lives and thinking of the Chinese people underwent enormous upheaval. The Tangshan earthquake that shocked the world and the successive deaths of revolutionary leaders threw the country into profound turmoil. Earth-shaking change was approaching, with the first light of dawn waiting just ahead…
While Meng Jianmin was away visiting Beijing, Xiaobei spent almost every day with his godfather. It was the last stretch of pure happiness he would have in Xigou.
With his biological father away, He Shaotang—the younger “dad” left behind—could not help feeling an even stronger sense of responsibility toward Meng Xiaobei. He spoiled the boy more than ever, practically instituting a full keep-him-fed-and-spoiled policy. Wherever he went, he wanted to tuck the little brat under his arm and carry him along. They could hardly have been closer.
At the barracks, He Shaotang strode ahead with his broad leather belt fastened smartly around his waist while his little ‘orderly’ Xiaobei trotted eagerly behind, carrying ‘Commander He’s’ washbasin and water flask. Shaotang lowered his eyelids, still wearing that mixture of maturity, arrogance, and roguishness. Whenever anyone asked, he tossed out the same casual line: “This is my son.” Even his tone carried unmistakable pride.
Shaotang used his various non-staple food ration coupons to buy Xiaobei treats from the military supply cooperative. He bought egg cakes and an entire jar of sesame paste.
Elio’s Notes: 鸡蛋糕, literally “egg cake,” was an old-fashioned Chinese sponge-style cake made primarily from eggs, flour, and sugar. In an era of rationing and limited household income, it was a relatively luxurious treat rather than an everyday snack.
The egg cakes cost seventy-one fen per jin—enough money to cover meals for a family of four for nearly a week. Xiaobei could eat cake like this only because he had somehow acquired a high-ranking-cadre godfather with money to spare.
Sesame paste was normally issued according to the number of people in a household, with each person receiving only about a hundred grams every six months. Ma Baochun ordinarily could not bear to waste any on the children. This time, Meng Xiaobei hit the jackpot. There was as much as he wanted. He ate more than half the jar in one sitting while Shaotang stroked his throat to help him swallow and scolded, “Look at you! Don’t choke yourself to death!”
Xiaobei also had another chance to visit the forest outpost.
They were greeted by a pack of howling, vicious “wolves” at the outpost. Xiao Bin and the others suddenly charged out of the room, threw a quilt over Shaotang’s head, pinned him to the bed, and began mauling him. This was their squad’s customary “welcome” for anyone returning to the mountains. Cooped up out there so long they were practically growing moss, the men went half mad with boredom; whenever someone came back from battalion headquarters after eating and living well, everyone had to vent their pent-up frustration on him. Shaotang was trapped beneath the quilt with his arms and legs pinned and took several muffled punches. Of course, through the thick quilt the blows did not hurt. It was only horseplay between comrades.
Meng Xiaobei immediately took Shaotang’s side. He grabbed Xiao Bin by the shoulders, climbed onto his back, and roared, “Don’t touch my godfather!”
Xiao Bin protested, “Whoa, listen to how affectionate that sounds! Did he give birth to you or something?!”
The others joined in. “Tangtang, don’t you shoot it all over your blanket and the wall every night? When the hell did you manage to make yourself such a big precious son? Can you even fuck out a son?!”
From somewhere in the crowd, Yao Guangli threw in, “The only person he could manage to fuck is Xiao Bin.”
Xiao Bin immediately defended himself. “Bullshit! I’m the one who fucks him!”
The whole room was full of rough, uninhibited men whose conversation was one “fuck” after another. They dragged Meng Xiaobei under the quilt with Shaotang too. Everything before his eyes turned black, while muffled laughter and shouting filled his ears. Xiaobei could hardly breathe. In the darkness he could just make out the faint glimmer of Shaotang’s eyes. Shaotang’s breath came hot through his nose and blew directly against Xiaobei’s face… The two of them suffered the squad’s “mauling” together.
Beyond the outpost, the forest was beautiful and secluded, like an entirely different world. Forestry workers labored under harsh conditions clearing land, and towering trees crashed to the ground. Shafts of golden sunlight pierced the dark-green branches, illuminating secret places hidden deep in the mountain valley.
Shaotang took Xiaobei to bathe beside the forest pool.
There were no outsiders in the woods, much less women. The forestry workers and sentries laboring nearby were all rough men. The two of them stripped naked without needing to worry about modesty.
Beside the pool still stood the stone marker over the faithful Erbao’s cenotaph, surrounded by wild grass and moss.
Elio’s Notes: An 衣冠冢 is a symbolic grave or cenotaph erected when the deceased’s body is not buried there, traditionally containing clothing or other memorial objects instead.
At twenty-one, He Shaotang was still extremely young. His body was long and lean, layered with compact muscle. Naked, he squatted beside the pool while his reflection floated quietly upon the water, half obscured by white mist.
Meng Xiaobei had been tanned deep brown by summer, like a little monkey. The fine hair across his back turned gold beneath the sunlight until he looked almost like a golden snub-nosed monkey. He leaned closer and examined Shaotang carefully. “Godfather, there’s a scar on your shoulder now.”
Shaotang said, “Scary, huh?”
Xiaobei said, “It runs from the back toward the front. That blade almost hit your neck. There was so much blood that day.”
He Shaotang did not care. “It’s nothing.”
Shaotang tossed the towel behind him. “Son, scrub your dad’s back.”
Meng Xiaobei obediently scrubbed his godfather’s back. He simply stood up, planted one bare foot on a rock beside the pool, settled into a wide stance so he could put some strength into it, and scrubbed vigorously over and over. Shaotang quietly smoked, eyes half closed as he enjoyed himself…
Water flowed gently past them. The pool before their eyes was like a flawless crystal, fish drifting beneath its surface while the sky above shone blue and clear as a mirror. The two reflected one another, dreamlike and beautiful.
Meng Xiaobei’s memories, this was paradise, perhaps the period when he and Shaotang were closest.
Meng Xiaobei scrubbed until he was sweating. “Aiya, I’m exhausted. You comfortable yet?”
Shaotang laughed. “Very. What a filial son.”
He Shaotang seemed mild on the surface, but there was fierceness in his bones. The softest thing about him was the few lines formed by his brows and eyes; when he was quiet, his face could look gentle and beautiful. He really was a handsome man. But appearances were deceptive. Mistake a wolf for a rabbit and you were guaranteed to pay for it sooner or later.
There was a tiny dark mole near the corner of Shaotang’s mouth, small enough that you could only see it up close.
Meng Xiaobei touched the mole. “Can you reach this with your own tongue?”
Shaotang said he could, then stuck out his tongue and demonstrated!
Meng Xiaobei said, “Uncle Xiao Bin says this is a beauty mark!”
Shaotang gave a roguish grin, his lips curving attractively. “Hmph. You think I’m some beauty? What kind of beauty is built this solid and has skin this rough? I’d scare the hell out of them.”
Meng Xiaobei himself was gradually growing into his features: small drooping eyes, a pointed face, and a thin, slender body. The beginnings of the handsome adult he would become were already faintly visible.
The two sat naked side by side beside the pool, splashing themselves with water. By then, Xiaobei had begun to notice that his own body was somewhat different from Shaotang’s. He had no prominent Adam’s apple and no beard or body hair. He had not begun developing yet, with several years still to go before puberty, and possessed little understanding of such things.
Shaotang crooked a finger, pulled Xiaobei closer by the shoulders, and began one of those private father-and-son conversations. “Hey. That little girl in your class who wears dresses—the one who went to kindergarten with you too. You two are pretty close, aren’t you?”
Meng Xiaobei shrugged. “We get along okay.”
Shaotang said, “You green little brat. Tell your godfather the truth.”
Xiaobei said, “That is the truth. We get along okay.”
Shaotang said, “I’ve picked you up outside school three times, and every single time you came out with that girl.”
Xiaobei sighed with the gravity of a tiny adult. “Sigh. She’s our class monitor. She’s really good at schoolwork. I ask her about homework.”
Shaotang laughed. “Mm. That’s good.”
Xiaobei said, “What’s good about it? Last time she actually got one of the math problems wrong, so I copied it wrong too. The teacher asked us in front of the whole class, ‘Which one of you copied the other? It had to be Meng Xiaobei copying Liu Xiaoyang!’”
“Fuck him!” Meng Xiaobei had learned to swear from a certain someone, although he still had no idea what “fuck” actually meant. He only knew it made your mouth look cool when you said it. “The teacher didn’t investigate anything! How could he be so sure I copied hers?! …Even though I actually did copy hers.”
He Shaotang gave him a suggestive, wicked grin. “That girl wears a pleated Dacron dress too. Looks like her family’s pretty well-off… Not bad, kid!”
Elio’s Notes: Dacron-style polyester fabric, known in Chinese as 的确良, was prized during this period because it was durable, bright, and easier to care for than many traditional fabrics. Clothing made from it could suggest a family with relatively comfortable circumstances.
Meng Xiaobei immediately understood what he was implying and glared furiously. “Stop talking nonsense! I don’t!”
Xiaobei instantly counterattacked. “Godfather, what about that woman from our factory militia company’s cultural propaganda troupe?”
He Shaotang said, “Kid, don’t make shit up.”
Meng Xiaobei said, “Who are you calling a kid? You think I don’t know? Her name’s Xiao Geng, right?”
The expression vanished from He Shaotang’s face. He narrowed his eyes sideways. “Who told you?”
Meng Xiaobei grinned just as wickedly. “Everybody says it. Uncle Xiao Bin says it too.”
He Shaotang became serious. “There’s nothing going on… I haven’t done anything like that shit Duan Hongyu pulled and given people a reason to point at my back and curse me.”
A young, handsome soldier like He Shaotang, living in an era when uniformed PLA men enjoyed particular respect and admiration from ordinary people—how could there possibly be no young women around him? To claim there were none at all would have been ridiculous, unless the man had some unspeakable physical problem.
The cultural propaganda troupe often visited the military unit to give performances. After seeing each other repeatedly, the pretty girl called Xiao Geng had developed a definite interest in Squad Leader He. As for exactly how far things had gone—whether the two of them had ever secretly rolled around in a cornfield and done “that”—Meng Xiaobei would later investigate the question repeatedly from every possible angle and still never arrive at a definite answer.
According to the stories, Xiao Geng later invited Squad Leader He out one evening. Unfortunately, He Shaotang had gone into the mountains with his squad to patrol the outposts and hunt wolves. He did not return for an entire week and missed the date.
Another time, Xiao Geng invited him to see a movie. By coincidence, a traveling opera troupe had come over from Baoji and was putting on a shadow-puppet show in the village. Shaotang excitedly hauled Xiaobei off to Zaolin Commune to see the shadow play instead, missing another date.
Elio’s Notes: Chinese shadow puppetry (皮影戏) uses flat, articulated figures moved behind a translucent screen and illuminated from behind. Shaanxi has a particularly rich shadow-puppet tradition, making the performance especially fitting for the setting.
After that… there was no after that.
The girl finally dumped him in anger. “There are plenty of men at the factory chasing me! Are you just playing games with me?”
He Shaotang did not particularly care. He had never taken the relationship very seriously in the first place. Ultimately, he simply did not like her enough. Besides, plenty of people were interested in him too. Was he supposed to care?
That day, Shaotang and Xiaobei climbed out of the pool and dried themselves. They had only one towel, so they took turns with it.
Meng Xiaobei looked up at his godfather and thought Shaotang’s body looked extraordinarily powerful and masculine. Everything about him seemed impressive, and when he walked, something between his legs even swung back and forth. As Xiao Bin liked to say, ‘That He bastard even walks with a damn swing to him. Shameless as hell!’
Xiaobei looked down at himself. Why didn’t he seem nearly as impressive?
Why couldn’t he get that same kind of swing?
Shaotang glanced at him and gave a cold laugh. “Quit looking. It’s not there yet.”
Meng Xiaobei said, “Who says it isn’t?”
Shaotang said, “You haven’t finished growing.”
Meng Xiaobei asked, “How old will I be when I finish?”
Shaotang chuckled, vaguely teasing. “By the time you’re old enough to marry a wife, everything’ll be there! Kid, how old are you now? That’s why it’s still your little pecker. You’re nothing but a little rooster!”
Meng Xiaobei shot back, “Then you’re an old rooster?”
Shaotang laughed despite pretending to be angry, his eyes curving. “I’m old?”
“You dare call me old?”
“I’m in my prime!… I’m strong as a dragon and fierce as a tiger, and you call me old?!”
While the two were still trading nonsense, heavy movement and panting suddenly came from the nearby woods. It sounded like some large animal—and more than one. The sounds rose and fell in turns. There were definitely at least two!
He Shaotang instantly became alert. He had not even had time to put his uniform back on. He quickly wrapped the towel around his waist, pulled a folding knife from the pocket of his army trousers with one hand, and dragged Xiaobei behind him with the other, lowering his body protectively in front of the boy.
“Wild boar.”
Shaotang mouthed the words to Xiaobei.
Knife in hand, Shaotang carefully crept forward. Xiaobei, still naked, clumsily followed behind, wildly excited as though someone had injected him full of adrenaline.
Shaotang pulled apart the bushes—and revealed two men!
Four people, eight eyes, stared at one another in stunned silence.
Judging from their dark skin, rough faces, and haircuts, the pair were not from Shaotang’s unit but were probably forestry workers from nearby. They were similar in height and solidly built. Both had their trousers pushed down around their knees and were standing in a hollow between the trees, one behind the other, bodies pressed intimately together, sweating and panting as one thrust against the other…
Shaotang’s expression changed. Frowning, he turned away without a word and reached back to cover Meng Xiaobei’s eyes with one hand.
Meng Xiaobei tried to pry Shaotang’s hand away and keep looking, but in truth he had not understood what he had seen. Where exactly were those two joined together? What were they doing?
What the hell did he know? He genuinely knew nothing about men having sex with other men.
Shaotang himself did not react much. He had no interest in spying on what people did in cornfields or behind bushes. The two men, however, were extremely nervous and frightened, scrambling frantically to pull their trousers back up.
He Shaotang looked back coldly. “What the hell are you doing?”
The other men had no answer. After a long silence, one finally shot back, “What are you two doing?”
He Shaotang spun around, brows furrowing. “What about us?”
The man said, “What are you staring at? You two are both naked too.”
He Shaotang’s expression changed abruptly and anger surged between his brows. Some things could not be said carelessly. Accusations like that could become a serious personal-conduct violation. A man could lose his job over it and might even be arrested, convicted of “hooliganism,” and sent to prison.
Elio’s Notes: The novel uses the term 流氓罪, “the crime of hooliganism,” here. The offense was formally codified in the PRC’s 1979 Criminal Law as a broad catch-all category and was later used against men for same-sex sexual conduct. The scene itself is set in 1976, so the author is using the later formal legal label somewhat retrospectively.
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