“It won’t do. You can’t and that’s that.”

  At daybreak, the five heads of the other households arrived. Peng Aqiang was determined to go by himself, but Renjie and Renhua insisted upon going in order to protect their father. Unexpectedly, the Xu and Su boys also turned up, but just to see them off and get an idea of what was going to happen. Ahan and Qiu Mei also hurried over. Nearly all the younger men in Fanzai Wood had turned out.

  Initially, both sides in the case had planned to argue in a reasoned way. But after they arrived at the Rural Affairs Office, the actual situation was far different from what they had expected, and most of their plans came to naught. First, the order of the questions did not correspond to the order of the issues raised in the summons. Second, the person questioning them was a Japanese official whose position was unclear. His command of the local dialect was rudimentary and he had to rely on an interpreter. The inspector who presided over the hearings wore a black uniform with silver buttons, riding boots, and a sword at his side. Peng Aqiang was the last to be questioned.

  “All the others are law-abiding people and have acknowledged their wrongdoing,” began the interpreter. “What do you have to say?”

  He had not expected that the official would sound like a buzzing mosquito. “We are farmers, and we are all law-abiding,” said Peng Aqiang, trying to keep his voice down. “We have done nothing wrong.”

  “Nothing wrong? You won’t pay your debts; you won’t pay the interest you owe; and you won’t sign a tenancy agreement. And you still say you have done nothing wrong?”

  “We don’t owe any money. We never borrowed any money, so where does the interest come from? It was Ye Atian who took over the land we opened and then cheated us into signing IOUs.” He could no longer keep his temper in check.

  At that moment, the inspector, who had been keeping a disinterested eye on the proceedings, suddenly roared something in Japanese.

  “The inspector says that you are a Manchu slave and very cunning.”

  “What does ‘Manchu slave’ mean?” asked Peng Aqiang, dumbfounded.

  “You’re a slave left over from the Qing dynasty.”

  “I am not!”

  “What? You dog!” The inspector rushed forward and slapped Peng Aqiang violently on both cheeks.

  Peng Aqiang swayed, but his feet remained firmly planted. His apparent stubbornness infuriated the inspector, who then laid into him with fists and feet as he shouted in a mixture of Chinese and Japanese.

  “You are not a human being, and you will be treated as an animal,” said the interpreter as he conveyed what the inspector was yelling. “We will treat Manchu slaves the same way we treat animals.”

  “Go home and think it over, and then hurry up and sign the tenancy agreement; otherwise you’ll be executed, you criminal.”

  Peng Aqiang slowly picked himself up off the ground.

  “Get out of here!”

  Peng Aqiang clenched his teeth and slowly walked out of the yamen. He tried to keep his mind focused and smile at the villagers, but blood trickled from his mouth.

  Renjie stepped forward to give him a hand.

  Renhua was scared out of his wits. “Dad, you’re bleeding.”

  “Leave me alone; I’m all right,” he said as he walked away with his head held high.

  At that moment, a small, thin man stepped forward from the crowd of onlookers. He looked familiar. Peng Aqiang rubbed his eyes and focused his gaze on the man.

  “What’s the matter, Peng Aqiang? Don’t you recognize me?”

  “I know who you are, you blood-sucking opium addict.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I’ll never forgive you, you opium addict!”

  Renjie and his brother came over to steady him and persuade him to go home at once. The little man roared with laughter behind them. Peng Aqiang struggled free of his sons and turned around. The people of Fanzai Wood surrounded him and wouldn’t let him do anything. At that moment, Renxian, Ye Atian’s steward, spoke up. “You people from Fanzai Wood, get this clear before you leave: you’ve got to sign tenancy agreements at the master’s house, right now.”

  Everyone was taken aback.

  “No!” exploded Peng Aqiang.

  “You refuse to sign? Then I’ll ask the inspector to have you thrown in prison.”

  “It’s not that. We don’t have our seals with us. We’ll come again some other day.”

  “And you other Pengs also refuse to sign today?”

  “We don’t have our seals with us either,” replied Renhua.

  “No, we won’t …”

  “Then you want to sign another day too?”

  “Yes, that’s right, some other day,” replied Renhua, hastily pushing his father away.

  “Fine. Be at the master’s house in three days.”

  “You had best come to Fanzai Wood,” said Xu Rixing.

  “Yeah! You come to Fanzai Wood,” added Peng Aqiang.

  “Fine! We’ll see,” said Ye Atian, panting with anger. “Do you think I’m afraid of you? We’ll see if you dare do anything.”

  “Then come,” said Peng Aqiang.

  “I mean what I say. I’ll come in an eight-man sedan chair in three days’ time. I’ll show you.”

  No one said another word. When the men got back to Fanzai Wood they parted in silence, each going to his own house.

  Upon arriving home, Peng Aqiang once again took his seat on the stone under the eaves. His face was flushed, his cheeks twitched, and he stared blankly ahead. Although his wife and children implored him to go inside and rest, he refused. When the women brought him food to eat, he remained stock still and as mute as a wooden statue. All that afternoon, Aling, Ahan, and Qiu Mei remained at the Pengs.’ Qiu Mei had taken the old man’s pulse and had given him some herbs to “reduce the fire element.”

  Peng Aqiang seemed to have regained his calm; perhaps Qiu Mei’s herbs had had the desired effect. He wondered how they were ever going to resolve the situation with Ye Atian. But whatever was to happen, he wouldn’t give up his land, which was as dear to him as his own flesh and blood, without a fight. He was not overly concerned about not being able to find a way out; after all, a path was laid one step at a time.

  Fanzai Wood was in tumult; like ants that had seen their nest destroyed, the people were in a turmoil. Xu Shihui and Su Ajian were running around chattering like fools.

  “I’ve gone soft? I’m mad as hell,” said Xu Shihui.

  “I haven’t been able to sleep a wink since that day,” said Su Ajian.

  Peng Aqiang laughed somewhat sarcastically. The two had changed a great deal since the Pengs had first arrived in Fanzai Wood. Perhaps it was age. But Peng Aqiang thought of his own situation and could only feel contempt for them.

  “We can fight,” asserted Xie Atan.

  “Like the last time?” asked Peng Aqiang. “Not one of you has any balls.”

  The younger men denied Peng Aqiang’s claims.

  “I’ll never give in on this,” said Peng Aqiang, “but I’m not going to get involved with a bunch of guys with no balls; I’ll go at it on my own.”

  “That won’t work. Our strength lies in unity.”

  “You guys are useless. When the time comes, you’ll all hide and leave me on my own.”

  He realized that he should have tempered his words. What was the point of hurting people’s feelings? But what could these guys do?

  Three days passed in no time. The day before Ye Atian’s expected arrival, Peng Aqiang ordered that two chickens be killed.

  “What for?” asked Lanmei, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “I feel like having something good to eat. Everybody can have something good to eat.”

  “But it’s not the new year or a festival or the birthday of a god. What are you up to?”

  “I said I wanted something good to eat,” he said in a rage. “Won’t that do?”

  That afternoon, Peng Aqiang went to the fields with Renjie, but he was still agitated. He picked up his machete and set off to inspect his fields. He tried not to think of what might happen the following day, but his mind kept returning to the subject. He couldn’t think of any way out of the situation. He left his fields and walked through Fanzai Wood, and before he realized it, he was standing in front of Ahan’s house. He felt like talking to Ahan, but the wooden door was shut, which meant that the couple was probably out. When he thought of Ahan, he experienced an overwhelming sense of guilt. He wanted to tell him to forget the redemption money. Then there was Dengmei. He had always been fond of her, but he had also been a harsh, distant, and severe father. How could he demonstrate any kindness to her in front of his own children and their wives? He had always loved her like a daughter, but she would never know it. None of his own daughters was as quick as Dengmei. He left without seeing if they were home. He had thought about visiting Qiu Mei, but as he started walking, his feet led him down the mountain.

  Dinner was even more splendid than what Peng Aqiang had requested. Lanmei was really understanding. Besides the two boiled chickens, fried eggs and salted turnips, prawns, and fried fish and peas were on the table.

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Grandpa, I want a chicken leg,” said Dexin. Peng Aqiang served chicken to his sons, grandsons, and daughters-in-law, but he saved a chicken breast for his wife. Lanmei asked him if he would like to borrow a pot of wine from the Xus. He shook his head and smiled. He couldn’t understand why Lanmei began crying and ran to the kitchen when he smiled. He asked his grandson to bring her back to the table, but she refused to come. Finally, he went after her himself.

  “Lanmei!”

  “Go away. Do you want the children to laugh at us?” Lanmei pushed him out of the kitchen. Peng Aqiang scratched his head, unable to explain his wife’s tears.

  “Come back to the table and have something to eat,” said Peng Aqiang, also beginning to cry.

  “Tell me what you are going to do tomorrow.”

  “Nothing. I’m going to argue with that animal Ye Atian like everybody else.”

  “I’ve spent my whole life with you, and I have never asked you for anything.”

  “Fine. If you have anything to say, wait till we go to bed.” He took her by the arm and led her back to the table.

  That night after the meal, as they were turning in, Lanmei again spoke. “Tell me what you are really going to do tomorrow.”

  “Didn’t I tell you already? I’m going to try to reason with Ye Atian.”

  “But Ye is unreasonable, isn’t he? You want to fight, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. Wait and see.”

  “If you get violent, you’ll end up in jail. It’ll all be for nothing because the land will still belong to someone else.”

  “Right.”

  “Don’t take the lead in anything. Forget it!”

  “Forget it?”

  “Remember, my health isn’t very good; I’m getting old. You have to help me. The children will have their day.” Lanmei began to sob.

  “Why are you acting so silly tonight, old woman?”

  Peng Aqiang spoke making light of the situation, but his heart bled.

  It was bitterly cold the next morning, but bright, beautiful sunlight fell over the roofs of the houses in Fanzai Wood, the fences, the trees, the bamboo, and the vegetable plots on the slope. But a whistling north wind cut right through everyone’s clothes, chilling them to the bone.

  Peng Aqiang, with his wife behind him, walked toward the temple. They both shivered with cold. Lanmei was transfixed by the sight before them: all the men, women, and children of Fanzai Wood were gathered in the open space in front of the temple. With her dim old eyes, she could make out Renjie and her other sons among them. She rushed forward.

  Peng Aqiang also hurried forward. “Renjie!”

  “Everybody has stopped work and come,” said Renhua.

  But Renxing was nowhere in sight. He was inflexible, knowing nothing but hoeing his own land. Even if the sky were to fall, he would not notice. Peng Aqiang looked around. Everyone was there save Chen Afa and Renxing. All those assembled looked at him expectantly. He knew what they were thinking. He ordered all the old people and the women and children back to their houses. It wouldn’t do any good to have them in the way.

  “It looks like it’s getting serious,” said Renhua.

  Peng Aqiang paid no attention but looked up to see how high the sun was. “Quickly, all of you put your tools away.”

  They were all astonished. Some were opposed and began to argue with him. He was on the verge of swearing when someone shouted, “They’re here!” It was Liu Ahan. Renhua quickly informed his father that Ahan and Qiu Mei had brought their Japanese rifles and hidden them in the grass. As Peng heard this, his expression changed. He yelled for Ahan to come over.

  “Ye Atian is here. What’s the matter?” he asked, observing Peng Aqiang’s angry expression.

  “Remember,” said Peng Aqiang, keeping his voice low, “if you don’t want everyone in Fanzai Wood killed, you had better not show those rifles. Even if it comes to a fight, we must only use our machetes and fish spears.”

  Peng Aqiang turned around and was just about to order them to put their tools away again when a group of people appeared below the temple. At the head of the group was tall, thin Renxian. He was followed by eight or nine men in worker’s clothes.

  “Ye Atian is coming in his sedan chair,” shouted Qiu Mei, who was standing on the ridge separating the fields in front of the temple.

  Ye Atian was indeed riding in a sedan chair carried by two men. The mountain trails were so narrow that a two-man chair was the most impressive show he could muster. Ye’s entourage was the same as last time, save that there were a few more laborers. Ye Atian remained sitting in his sedan chair, not deigning to get personally involved.

  “So all of you, even the old and the women and children, have come out to welcome us,” said Renxian, looking at everyone as he walked up the slope accompanied by his escort.

  Not a one acknowledged his words with even a grunt. Peng Aqiang looked around and realized that although the people of Fanzai Wood had concealed their tools, the old people and the women and children were still there.

  “Are you all here to see Master Ye? Where are the heads of the households?” Renxian maintained his smile, but it vanished when no one replied.

  As he had done on the previous occasion, Renxian removed a bundle of papers from his black bag. “You have to get this straight. Have you all brought your seals?”

  “No!” replied one of the villagers.

  Renxian was taken aback. He looked around him, scowling in anger. “Who are you? Are you planning to kill someone with that spear?”

  It was Fan Aqian who at that moment emerged from the crowd, five-pronged fish spear in hand. One by one the villagers took their tools out from behind their backs.

  “What are you doing? So you really want to cause trouble,” said Renxian, retreating to the protection of the escort. Again he turned and roared, “Come out, all of you!”

  At that moment it became apparent that Ye Atian had an army ready—twenty men emerged from the grass behind his sedan chair. One carried a metal bar and others carried machetes. All the men except for the five or six in front of the sedan chair rushed the temple.

  “So, are you bandits of Fanzai Wood sure you want to fight?” said Renxian, somewhat bolstered. “If not, kneel and beg for mercy and affix your seals; there’s still time.”

  “Forget it! Come on!” said Fan Aqian, ready to lead the others down the slope.

  Peng Aqiang shook his head and waved his hands. “Stop! Renxian, does Ye Atian want to force our hand? There will be no turning back.”

  “It’s your decision; no one is forcing you.”

  “Hold on!” said Peng Aqiang to the people of Fanzai Wood. Then he addressed Renxian. “Call off your men.”

  “Only when you affix your seals and then kneel and beg for mercy.”

  “Then you will be responsible for any bloodshed.” Peng Aqiang was trying to hold back the villagers, who kept pressing forward.

  “You’re the ones making trouble.”

  “Renxian, quit talking and get on with it,” said Ye Atian impatiently.

  “What do you have to say?”

  “After today, there will be no more Fanzai Wood.”

  “Let’s get them,” said Xie Atian and Lai Ahe as they rushed down the slope.

  “Kill them, kill them all for me!” shouted Ye Atian, who was now standing in front of his sedan chair with a knife in his hands.

  Both sides rushed at one another. Some of the women wept; some tried to hold their men back; others cursed. Peng Aqiang was confused and his heart pounded. He suddenly regain his calm and with all his strength roared, “Stop!”

  “Well, have you seen the light?”

  “I’m coming alone,” Peng Aqiang said as he moved toward Renxian. The escort tried to stop him, and one of them started to lunge at him, but his steps faltered. Peng Aqiang walked toward where Ye Atian was standing.

  “What do you want?” asked Renxian, hurrying down the slope after him.

  The people of Fanzai Wood stood where they were.

  “I want to have one last talk with Master Ye.”

  “I don’t talk to bandits,” said Ye Atian, approaching him knife in hand.

  “You have to talk,” he said, just six feet from Ye.

  “My knife will do the talking,” Ye said as he lunged at Peng Aqiang.

  The villagers were in an uproar. But Peng Aqiang managed to dodge the knife thrust. Then, lifting his arms, he turned to them and said, “Leave it to me. Stay right where you are.”

  His words had come from the bottom of his heart; they bore the force and dignity of his life. The villagers were moved to silence. The whole place had grown deathly silent. Then he addressed Ye Atian. “Ye Atian, your whole life you have occupied other men’s land with the backing of the officials. I have even heard that you abducted other men’s wives and raped their daughters. Can you have a clear conscience?”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Ye, taken aback by the accusations.