Chapter 15

Dusk is deepening and the sky is gloomy.

Yi, the highest ranking man among us, sits in front of the first courtyard at the entrance of the alley, which is the residence of the head of the shelter station. The head of the shelter station is a guy who is born to be absolutely hostile to the word "dignified". He sits in the courtyard listening to the phonograph. I don't know from which fallen soldier he got it, and the record perhaps have come from the same way.

"Butterflies fly away and my heart is also gone. Who will come on this lonely night? Wipe tears from my cheeks, just greedy for a little dependence, greedy for a little love, it's time for the past to end but it finally fills my heart with sorrow…"

As a native of Beijing, I will never understand why Shanghai native Yi is so sad when listening to this song. His sorrowful and impoverished face is indeed like the one imitated by vet Hao, almost misplaced. People passing by can't help but glance at that strange and sour face.

I stop, although I don't want to. I look at that twisted and ugly face — Yi could be said to be debonair once.

"All crazy?" I ask him. Actually, I know I'm also crazy, but the form of madness is different.

He doesn't speak. What answers me is the decadent music from the phonograph.

"…How can I bear his guess and blame? People's words merge into a sea of sorrow, so hard to endure hardship…"

Dragon is still fine now, with fist marks on his face and half of his clothes left. However, Yangdanzi is even more miserable than him. Dragon is peremptory and his endurance is probably comparable to the bears in Northeast China. He just takes down god knows how many one, but he is still cursing: "...A Potato should be cut! Head should be hit by the bullets! Belly should be stabbed by the bayonets!"

I carefully pat him and he turns to me with an angry expression and a fist about to come up. I make a posture without any intention of aggression, and I realize that the guy isn't completely crazy. He actually puts down his fist, so I gesture to him on my wrist and say: "Where's the watch?"

He actually understands my meaning and say: "Sold. Qi Mazi."

I prompt for him as my gratitude: "The old sows that died of the plague, dressed in military skin."

Dragon immediately learns and curses those around him who are eager to challenge, saying: "The old sows that died of the plague, dressed in military skin!"

When I leave, three guys pounce on him together, and Dragon gives one to Yangdanzi, fighting against the other two.

I pull out the bayonet next Yaoma and he lets out an "ei". "We own people fight. Don't use a knife." I speak in a low voice without any emotion.

Yaoma remains silent and I leave.

I drag my leg across the damp road, my right hand wraps in my sleeve, and my left hand tightens my clothes to resist the damp and cold atmosphere here. My clothes are very thin, but in fact, I have forgotten what warmth is for a long time.

I see Qi Mazi, he is playing with a poor soldier I don't know through his sleeves at the place where Dragon hit him last time — he seems to be growing there. I limp over and put my arm around his shoulder. Qi Mazi turns around with a bit of impatience because of the interruption. "Pal, are you…"

Then his face changes because he feels the bayonet on my right hand pressing against his back.

"Sir, what is this for?"

"Where's the watch?" I ask.

Qi Mazi doesn't forget to pretend to be confused at the moment, "What?"

I carefully pierce his clothes with the tip of my bayonet, pierce his flesh, and then draw it upward.

Qi Mazi immediately takes out Yi's watch from his upper sleeve and hands it over. "You're all doing this, I can't do business anymore."

I don't pay attention to him,I just want to leave quickly. Before leaving, I glance at the stunned comrade-in-arms who is about to sell a silver bracelet — could it exchange him for half a dinner? I say to this dejected soldier: "Don't sell it. We're going to fight Japs again. We'll be seen as human again."

The face of the thin skeleton suddenly lights up, and then he clenches his bracelet tightly. I drag my leg and limp away. Qi Mazi is not angry or downhearted, but calmly warns me — I think that doing business with soldiers, he must go through such things too much — "If you're not dead, you'll be in trouble."

My biggest trouble is that I don't know what I'm doing. When things happen, we think about the good part. I think we all don't know what we're doing. In the morning, I do bad things, in the afternoon, I do good things, and in most of the time we do things that we don't know good or bad.

I flee from East city market in Chanda, holding a bayonet in one hand and Yi's watch in the other.