“My brother Aling and the others have gone to Great Lake for a month.”

  “The others?”

  “My brother Aling, Shunmei, and the two children of my brother Ajiang.”

  So she wasn’t Aling’s wife. Was she the widow of his older brother?

  They chatted politely for a bit, then Ahan left. He had considered taking the road to Miaoli upon leaving Stone Walls, but on his way he ran into a group of people headed for the mountains. Why not return to Great Lake with some company? he thought. He would be able to see Aling that very evening. It was decided. At Great Lake he bought a catty of wine, some dried bean curd, some peas, and dried fish. He even bought some candy for the children.

  Leaving the village at Great Lake, he followed the valley to Kiln Corner. To his left was a luxuriant wood of camphor trees bathed in the beautiful light of the westering sun. There was a row of five camphor kilns, behind which rose a mountain. And there was that huge, strange tree, the hanging tree, looking as monstrous as ever.

  “Hey, isn’t that brother Ahan?” It was Aling who was shouting.

  A man suddenly stepped out from behind one of the camphor kilns. He didn’t bother taking the small winding path but made a beeline straight for Ahan, ignoring the undergrowth and creepers that came up to his waist.

  “Careful, Aling!” shouted Ahan as he stepped forward to meet him.

  “Ahan! Ahan! you’re here. You’re really here,” said Aling.

  Ahan suddenly felt his eyes grow moist and his nose tickle. He quickly lowered his head. Aling grasped him firmly by the shoulder and also lowered his head. Ahan was embarrassed by his excessive emotions and weakness. He was afraid that Aling might laugh at him. In any case, he was reluctant to show his feelings, and did his best to suppress them.

  The two of them, arm in arm and shoulder to shoulder, made their way to the third kiln.

  “How are the children?”

  “They are at Fanzai Wood,” said Aling, raising his voice. “I was just going to fetch you.”

  “Why?” he asked wryly. “Is there a good job here?”

  “Yes, there is; it’s great.”

  There were three other workmen at the kiln. They were all around forty and experts at their work. Only Aling was new on the job. Aling showed them the food and wine that Ahan had brought. They greeted the new arrival with smiles.

  “What’s so great? Anything for me?”

  “It’s a long story,” said Aling suddenly. “Why don’t we go to Fanzai Wood?”

  Ahan couldn’t help laughing. Aling had changed a great deal. He used to be such an emotional and impetuous man. Could he have changed so much in just six months? Ahan actually felt calmer seeing Aling in such a state of restless exhilaration. He told him that whatever it was, it had to wait until after they had had the food and drink. After all, he hadn’t had a bite to eat since his morning porridge.

  But they had no chance to talk after eating. The camphor was being distilled and the kiln had to be refired three times. In the first half of the night, one man had to sit in front of the furnace and stoke it with firewood. In the second half of the night, the fire was allowed to slowly go out.

  In the middle of the camphor kiln was a square platform five feet high and seven or eight feet across. A four-foot-high cauldron was set into this platform. A steamer, the base of which was a metal sieve, was set on top of the cauldron. The steamer was a cone-shaped affair made of wooden slats and about eight feet in height.

  To make camphor oil, the large blocks of camphor wood had to be whittled into small chips by hatchet-wielding workers. The chipping process was time consuming. Since there was one firing each shift, this meant that the chipping went on day and night without stop. Three or four workers were assigned to each kiln, but even so the work was hard and few people were willing to tackle it.

  Once the camphor wood was chipped, it was poured into the steamer, and one worker had to climb in and tread it down to fit as much wood in as possible. The lid was then shut. A fire had to be lit to boil the water in the large cauldron, which would send the scalding steam into the steamer to extract the oil from the wood chips. On the side of the steamer, about a foot below the top, was attached a bamboo or metal tube. The oil-laden steam would rise and flow out through the tube and down to a tank a few feet away. The tank contained clear mountain spring water. The steam passed through the tube that curled like a snake through the tank of cool water. The cooled steam passed out of the tube as a liquid into leather containers. The leather containers had two spouts. The camphor oil flowed out of the upper spout into clay jars; waste water was drained out of the larger, lower spout. The waste water was still warm and made excellent bath water, because insects would avoid anyone who bathed in it.

  Once the batch was done, the steamer lid was opened, allowing the remaining steam to evaporate. Then a door in the base of the steamer was opened and the steamed wood was raked out with a special five-pronged rake. By the end of the shift, all four workers were covered in sweat. By the time they finished bathing, it was pitch black save for the blood-red flames in the kiln furnace. The chips left over after the steaming were used as fuel. The air was heavy with the smell of camphor. From the peaks behind the kilns were heard the cries of gibbons, owls, and pheasants.

  Some weeks earlier, the people of Fanzai Wood had seen four strangers in the fields. They were gesticulating and measuring the terraced paddies and fields. The people were at a loss in the face of this unusual event. They hastily informed Xu Shihui, the nominal head of the village. When he heard the news, Xu’s usually ruddy face went ashen white. Xu followed the others to the field.

  “Gentlemen, may I ask who you are? Are you officials?” asked Xu, his voice trembling.

  “Master Ye Atian sent us,” the visitors replied coolly.

  Master Ye Atian was one of the settlers in the Great Lake area who had received official tenure for land. But the land in Fanzai Wood belonged to the indigenous people. By what right had they come to survey other people’s land?

  “Gentlemen, excuse me, but this is not part of Master Atian’s estate. I must ask you to stop your surveying,” said Xu, panting heavily.

  “Who said it’s not? Master Atian has obtained official permission to cultivate the area around Fanzai Wood.”

  “Little Southside is included,” said another.

  “No, no. This land is our livelihood. We have poured our sweat and blood into it. It has cost us lives. No one …”

  “What are you saying, you old fool?”

  “I’m saying that I represent the people of Fanzai Wood. You can cut off our heads, but you can’t take our land. Never!” Xu became more agitated as he spoke, scarcely realizing that he was striking his chest, preparing for a fight.

  “Oh no? Are you bandits?”

  “Only those who take the land of others are bandits.”

  “Hey, do you have tenure on this land?” asked another.

  “What tenure?” asked Peng Aqiang.

  “Ha, ha, you don’t even know what tenure is. It’s a official certificate that gives you the rights to a piece of land.”

  “If you don’t have tenure, then you are just squatters. Squatters have no rights to the land.”

  “Nonsense! We have an oral agreement with the indigenous people to cultivate this land. What do you mean by squatting? Who cares?” Having had his say, Peng Aqiang felt a pain to the roots of his teeth.

  “Do you obey the indigenous people, or do you obey the Emperor of the great Qing dynasty?”

  Master Atian’s people departed. The hearts of Xu and all the people of Fanzai Wood had been dealt a blow. They had sweated blood, survived on the worst of diets, and eked out a livelihood, and were even prepared to sacrifice themselves for a pitiful inch of land. But now, faced with officials who held their fates in the palms of their hands, they felt fear and helplessness. Everyone asked Master Xu Shihui to think of a solution.

  Thus, with one change of underwear, Xu set off for Great Lake, then to the government office, and then to Miaoli. After several days, he found a way: they would have to apply for land tenure. Only after they had received tenure patents from the government would their land be safe. With five pieces of silver, a hefty sum contributed by the eight families at Fanzai Wood, Xu was able to ascertain that Master Atian had not yet obtained a land tenure patent.

  The eight households—the Fans and Xies had arrived after the Pengs—then decided that Xu Shihui’s name should go on the land patent. But they still had to find a captain of the guard. Xu himself was too old, and none of the younger men had any experience. It was for this reason that Aling was so anxious to get hold of Ahan.

  “Brother Aling, you must be joking!” exclaimed Ahan as he burst out laughing.

  “No, not at all. That’s the idea we came up with after many days of consideration.”

  The qualifications required for being a captain of the guard were that a person be honest and hard-working and have an unblemished past. He also had to be a family man, be familiar with military duty, and know about life in the mountains. He also had to be young.

  Ahan, a penniless young man, wondered if he was really qualified. He had no family, no wife. Thinking about the situation, he laughed.

  “You are more or less qualified,” said Aling. Lowering his voice, he continued: “If we get you a wife, then you’ll have a family.”

  Ahan laughed so hard he could hardly catch his breath, and tears ran down his cheeks. Aling gave him a serious look until he stopped laughing. Then he told him something Ahan never dreamed of hearing. At first he thought Aling was just having fun with him, but gradually he listened to what his friend was saying. He was left speechless and somewhat confused.

  The next day they hurried off to Fanzai Wood. Only Qinmei had been left at home to take care of all the children. The Peng family had mobilized to cultivate the newly opened fields. Before they could receive official title to the land, they had to do their best to improve it. Only if they made improvements would things work out in their favor. They had to have proof for their claims. On account of this, the eight families at Fanzai Wood had spent the last two weeks taking precautions against the indigenous people, chopping down trees, and opening new land for cultivation. They constantly put their lives on the line.

  Ahan and Aling walked over to the newly opened fields to have a look. Seeing that Ahan still looked somewhat dazed, Aling sighed.

  “Ahan, what a state you are in. I’m sorry. We had better go. Go home and think about it for a few days, and then come back.” Aling smiled regretfully. “It’s my fault, I should have given you some time to think it over.”

  “I have no family; you are my only family.”

  Aling thought seriously for a long time before speaking. “I can’t decide for you. If it were me, I wouldn’t dare accept; on the other hand, if I were Liu Ahan, I would.”

  “I can do guard duty, even fight for my life.” Ahan shook his head. “What I mean is …”

  After a pause, Aling again told him that the Pengs were willing to give him their youngest daughter for his wife. She could live with him in their own place, or he could live with the Pengs and throw his lot in with them. If he chose to set up on his own, then his wages for the first year as captain of the guard would be paid to the Pengs to pay the bride price in installments.

  “Weimei isn’t quite right in the head, is she?”

  “She’s simple-minded. Well, for a woman that’s not a bad thing, and she is pretty.”

  “I don’t want a half-wit for a wife.” After a long, embarrassed pause, Ahan suggested that the foster daughter might do.

  “No, that won’t work. Don’t you know about Renxiu’s death?”

  “I’m suggesting her because I do know it.”

  “He was done to death by her. The woman can’t be a wife to any man.”

  According to Aling, the Pengs had decided to give Dengmei to Ahan, but Aling had opposed the match to keep his friend from marrying a woman with an evil fate. It was commonly known that Peng Renxing was to marry Xu Azhi, but old Xu had demanded that Renxing live in their house for three years. Naturally, the Pengs were not happy about losing the most productive member of the family. As a result, both families were upset. After Renxiu died, the Pengs let it be known that they would like to exchange Dengmei for Azhi, an idea that the Xus strenuously rejected. Later the Xus considered taking the half-wit, Weimei. At that point the possibility of Ahan taking the position arose, but because Aling had opposed the match with Dengmei, the marriage exchange idea was dropped.

  “Brother Aling, do you really think a woman can do her husband in?” asked Ahan, his gaze fixed on Aling. There was a strange look in his eyes, and a fleeting smile passed over his lips. Aling was confused and felt a bit uneasy.

  “Fate exists; it’s undeniable. Why would you want to tempt fate for a woman who can harm you?”

  “You can’t say that about a foster daughter.”

  Aling was taken aback.

  “A person can’t be born just to do someone else harm.”

  “That’s fate.”

  “Heaven would never intend such a thing.”

  At a loss for words, Aling stared at him.

  “If a person were to have such a fate, heaven would never allow them to be born.”

  Aling decided that he himself would tell Peng Aqiang of Ahan’s intentions. After Aling left, Ahan’s agitated mind calmed. He was surprised by his own readiness to express his true desires, and wondered where he got the courage. He wondered if he really had any doubts, or if they had arisen due to Aling’s comments. Perhaps he had made up his mind long ago.

  Don’t pretend to be an idiot, he told himself, you’ve wanted her ever since you laid eyes on her. He laughed with embarrassment.

  At noon, Peng Aqiang made a special trip home to have lunch with some guests. After the meal of dried potato and bamboo shoot soup, Peng Aqiang took them to see Xu Shihui. Xu was not at home, so the three men sat down in a cool spot to talk.

  “Did you quit your job, Ahan?”

  “Yes, they took my name off the rolls.”

  Then they discussed the duties of the captain of the guard. They concluded that there was no one else suited for the job.

  “Be the captain of our guard. You can choose three other guards.”

  “You mean I can recruit outside?”

  “No, choose them from the village. They will all be part-time, because they will have other responsibilities. All the families will provide them with something. You will be the only one working full-time.”

  Then they discussed the marriage. Peng Aqiang said, “There are legal obligations that have to be met.” At this, Ahan relaxed a bit. Peng Aqiang seemed to be considering the situation like any other business. “Aling told me about your wishes this morning—I don’t foresee any problems.”

  “I mean, is there any other way?” Ahan suddenly felt his cheeks flush. “You all know me—I don’t have a penny to my name.”

  “Are you still going on about that?” Peng Aqiang turned to Aling. “Haven’t you cleared things up with him?”

  “I have, Ahan; all you have to do is choose the girl you want.”

  In silence, Ahan look beseechingly at Aling.

  “You mean Dengmei?”

  Peng Aqiang heaved a sigh as he spoke. “Fine, you can marry Dengmei.”

  “Marry in the proper way?”

  “Sure. We’ll even help you build a house nearby.”

  Then they began to discuss the work involved in building a house. Aling readily promised to undertake the task. He also decided to give up working at the camphor kilns and settle there too.

  “That’s great, Aling! I’ve been hoping you would for a long time,” said Peng Aqiang. Aling was happy, but as soon as they touched on the issue of the location for the house, Peng knit his brows. “There is less and less land every day.”

  “I’m not sure I want to till the land.”

  “Then what do you want to do?”

  “Pick palm leaves, cut rattan, and fish for shrimp and crayfish.”

  Peng Aqiang was against the idea. Ahan suggested that they both take up duties as guards, but Aling was unwilling. In the end, they decided to settle and occupy as much land as possible. They figured it would be pretty easy to find some hilly land on the steeper slopes of Upper Fanzai Wood to live off of. Otherwise, they could rent a piece of land from Xu Shihui or Chen Afa that would keep them in potatoes until they decided.

  They also decided that Ahan and Aling would build a house together, with each family occupying one half. They would share the use of the kitchen and washroom. Once the plans were made, the discussion was ended.

  As the sun set, Peng Aqiang led them off to the left of the village, over a grayish-brown outcropping of rock, and along a path to the southeast. The path was the one used by the Tabeilai villagers when they went out on the warpath. The outcropping was the boundary marker between Little Southside and the aboriginal lands.

  Although most of the indigenous people of the area were sinicized, they were still under the sway of Tabeilai village. Little Southside lay by a river and a small path. Three latecomers had planted pumpkins and gourds there and later vegetable plots. There were also a field of buckwheat and some potato patches.

  Peng Aqiang’s intentions were clear: although there was danger from the indigenous people, the land would be safe from grasping settlers. Peng Aqiang explained to them that this was the kind of place where Ahan and Aling could get a piece of land.

  The Peng family stopped working only when darkness had fallen. Lanmei, like the rest of them, wore a black sash around her waist and a palm-leaf hat, and carried a machete. One could not tell if she were a man or a woman, and certainly no one would have guessed she was an old woman. As the Peng family came together, there was no sign of Dengmei.

  “I saw her in the kitchen,” Aling whispered to Ahan.

  The cassia bamboo torches had been lit. The evening meal, which still consisted mainly of potatoes, simmered in a pot with some beet sugar. There was also sweet potato soup to replenish them after their long, hot day. The Pengs made a point of treating the two men like honored guests: a dish of shredded turnips and egg and a plate of beans with dried fish were also produced.