Chapter 31: The Secret Is Out

In truth, Hong Tao had underestimated the situation. In his previous life, he never had children, nor any experience raising them. He thought it would be enough simply to keep Jin Yue from freezing or starving. But he hadn't considered that a child is, after all, still a child. At the sight of the desolate moat, Jin Yue became frightened and cried. When she cried, her face would be chapped by the northern wind. To prevent this, Hong Tao had to wrap her neck with a scarf fashioned from his old threadbare pants. His own face could suffer the wind, but he couldn't let a little girl's face be damaged—after all, her appearance was a lifelong matter, and his own face was of little use now, not enough to charm any wealthy ladies no matter how well he took care of it.

Not only did she cry when she was scared, she cried when she was tired, when she was thirsty, and even at the sight of a big catfish. Hong Tao finally understood the saying, “Women are made of water”—little girls, it seemed, had an even higher water content. It was a struggle to get both the fish and the girl home in the bamboo cart, only to discover another thorny problem: Jin Yue’s appetite was no less than his own, especially when it came to fish. After they finished eating, there was far less fish left than usual—certainly not enough for his uncle’s regular portion. It was clear he’d have to catch another fish in the future.

Hong Tao didn’t really want to give Jin Yue any fish—not out of stinginess, but out of concern that her father might be upset. After all, he’d entrusted his daughter to Hong Tao, and if she ate something she shouldn’t and got sick, who would bear the responsibility? But how could he eat alone while she sat by, mouth watering? If only she just drooled, but she’d cry, and once she started, she wouldn’t stop. In the end, he simply shared the fish with her—after all, he and his uncle had been eating it for months with no ill effects.

“Xiao Tao, why is there so little fish today?” Sure enough, his uncle, squatting in the toilet with his lunchbox open, was not pleased. He now took it for granted that his nephew would bring fish; even if it was late, he’d grumble.

“She ate it,” Hong Tao said, nodding toward Jin Yue.

“Why’d you bring her into the men’s toilet?” His uncle, focused on food, had hardly noticed anyone else until now. When he finally saw Jin Yue, whom he recognized, he was surprised.

“I can’t just leave her in the hallway, can I? She cries if she’s left alone. Do you want all the teachers out looking for you?” Hong Tao adjusted the scarf around Jin Yue’s face, pulling it up to cover her eyes so she wouldn’t see anything. It was all nonsense, really; even if she looked, she wouldn’t understand—she was only a little over four.

“Your father asked you to watch her?” His uncle, in a rare moment of generosity, ate only a little before giving the rest of the fish to Huo Dan.

“Yes, I’ll have to take care of her every day from now on, so don’t say anything you shouldn’t in front of her—she’ll just go home and tell her father,” Hong Tao explained the situation to his uncle, making sure to warn him.

“She’s like a little spy, then. Jin Yue! If you dare tell your dad, I’ll put a caterpillar down your neck! Did you hear me?” Annoyed at the inconvenience, his uncle decided to make things clear and direct.

“...Waa... I want to go home... I want my mom...” Jin Yue’s response was just as direct, tears and cries coming out in perfect unison.

“There, there, don’t cry. Tao-ge will give him a beating for you!” Hong Tao hurried to comfort the little girl, then winked at his uncle and kicked him lightly twice.

“Uncle Huo, can you eat a little faster? Give me the lunchbox, I need to go. Next time I’ll bring an extra fish, come on, don’t lick it, just give it here!” Once Jin Yue stopped crying, Hong Tao snatched the lunchbox from Huo Dan and let him grab the last piece of fish with his hand, then hurried away with Jin Yue in tow. He really felt as if he were playing both father and mother now.

After the fish, until six in the evening, unless there was something else to do, Hong Tao would teach Jin Yue Chinese pinyin and Arabic numerals. In later years, people often said “big chest, no brains,” but whether Jin Yue’s chest would be big remained to be seen—her intellect certainly wasn’t. After hours of effort, she only managed to recognize two pinyin letters and count to five in Arabic numerals, constantly mixing them up. Hong Tao’s own mouth was dry from repeating himself, and he couldn’t even look stern, for at the slightest sign of impatience, the tears would start, and he’d have to waste another piece of candy. Eventually, he got clever: he’d break a candy into several pieces and give her only a bit at a time, just to stretch the few coins he’d saved.

For every suffering person, there’s someone enjoying themselves; for every worry, there’s someone rejoicing. When Uncle Jin came home from work and saw his daughter bouncing around, proudly showing off her newly learned first-grade lessons, he was overjoyed. Hong Tao, meanwhile, could only count his dwindling stash of candies and face the hardship that seemed to stretch out endlessly. But it wasn’t all for nothing; that very night, he received a shiny, heavy, golden bullet casing as a reward.

“If getting that shell from your house takes this much, do I have to sell myself to get the whole artillery shell?” The old Hong Tao, before he crossed over, would have been delighted with the bullet casing, but now he barely glanced at his prize before tossing it into the biscuit tin beside his bed, along with his so-called toys: bullet casings, cigarette boxes, matchboxes, a few broken porcelain shards discarded by his uncle, and some battered glass marbles.

Perhaps from boredom, or perhaps from being worn out by Jin Yue, Hong Tao did something both pointless and meaningful the next morning as soon as the second class ended. He took Jin Yue, pushed the little bamboo cart to the kindergarten, and, right in front of the nursery teacher, gave a boy named Er Mao a good beating. Then he handed three freshly folded paper guns to Da Jiang, and left with Jin Yue, heads held high.

Where there’s an Er Mao, there’s sure to be a Da Mao—that was the naming rule for children in those days, and Da Mao always had to be a boy; a girl wouldn’t be named after the Mao generation. Hong Tao knew exactly who Da Mao was—he was in fifth grade at the same school. Hong Tao wasn’t about to wait for Da Mao to come find trouble with him and force him to seek revenge through his uncle; that would put him at a disadvantage. So, he took the initiative and went to the school, asking his uncle to warn Da Mao at lunchtime in front of everyone: this kid was off-limits, and anyone who touched him would be in for a beating. To show his loyalty to Hong Tao—or at least to the fish Hong Tao brought—Uncle Huo even kicked Da Mao for good measure.

Da Mao could be dealt with by himself or his uncle, but when it came to the nursery teacher, Hong Tao was out of his depth. Sure enough, about six months later, the teacher came to the house again. This time, she was smarter—not going to his grandmother’s to complain, but coming directly to Hong Tao’s father.

“So, are you itching for trouble again? You’ve only just behaved for a few days! Why are you stirring up trouble outside again?” Hong Tao’s father, wearing a variety of forced smiles, finally managed to see the nursery teacher off, then dragged Hong Tao to the study by the collar, grabbing the broom as if preparing to beat him.

“Uncle, don’t hit Xiao Tao... Uncle, don’t hit Xiao Tao...” Jin Yue’s tears started flowing immediately. She clung to Hong Tao’s father’s hand, begging for mercy on his behalf.

“Oh my, what’s all this about? What kind of scene is this?” Just at that moment, Uncle Jin came home to fetch Jin Yue, and was stunned by what he saw. He quickly took the broom from Hong Tao’s father’s hand and asked what was going on.

“It’s really nothing much. There’s a kid in the nursery who bullied Da Jiang—you remember him, right? The big chubby boy in Jin Yue’s class, the honest, timid one. Just because he’s quiet and shy, people keep picking on him. Don’t you think that’s wrong, Uncle Jin? So I went to teach the bully a lesson, just to make him remember. I didn’t hit him hard, didn’t injure him either.” Hong Tao knew his father didn’t really want to beat him—if he did, he’d have locked the door. The broom was just for show.

“Jin Yue, is that what happened?” Uncle Jin wasn’t sure, so he asked his daughter.

“Er Mao stole Da Jiang’s gun... Xiao Tao said bad kids need to be punished... Xiao Tao made three new paper guns for Da Jiang... then he tripped Er Mao hard... then went to school to ask his uncle to beat Da Mao...” Jin Yue was honest and recounted everything she’d seen and heard.

“What? You went to school to beat up another kid? Are you trying to rebel or what? That’s it, I’m going to teach you a lesson today! Old Jin, don’t stop me!” When his father heard that Hong Tao had involved his uncle in school trouble, his anger flared again, and he reached for the broom.

“Brother Hong, don’t get angry, don’t get angry. Let me get the whole story before you start swinging,” Uncle Jin, a former soldier, easily restrained Hong Tao’s father with one arm and turned back to ask Hong Tao.

“Why did you have your uncle go after Da Mao? Da Mao is Er Mao’s older brother, right?”

“I had to. If Er Mao went home and told Da Mao I hit him, Da Mao would definitely come looking for trouble. I can’t let myself get beaten up first and then go running to my uncle for revenge—that does no good. This is called nipping trouble in the bud. Actually, my uncle didn’t really hit Da Mao, just warned him not to mess with me.” Hong Tao didn’t hide anything, explaining his reasoning and actions clearly.

“That fish-eating uncle kicked Da Mao and made him cry...” Jin Yue, ever the little busybody, added her own commentary, never quite on anyone’s side.

“Speaking of eating fish, Brother Hong, there’s something else I forgot to mention. Xiao Tao took Jin Yue fishing at the moat, then came home and secretly cooked the fish for the two of them to share, and even brought some to his uncle at school. I don’t object in principle, but Xiao Tao, you must be careful when you play near the moat—never go out on the ice, do you understand? It’s very dangerous.” Uncle Jin immediately remembered another matter at the mention of fish. Hong Tao had been secretly proud of Jin Yue’s discretion for not telling her parents, but now it seemed she hadn’t kept quiet—her father had simply forgotten.