novelraw Chapter 1009 - 882: Who Is Right, Who Is Wrong?
Chapter 1009 - 882: Who Is Right, Who Is Wrong?
"Son, Mrs. Xiao."Ping’an suppressed the discomfort in his heart and stood on the periphery, quietly observing everything before him.
Inside a two-entry courtyard, the vermilion gate had already collapsed, and the gray bricks, tiles, and carved window lattices revealed the wear and tear of time.
Inside the open door, clothes from the wardrobes were casually discarded all over the floor, drawer contents were scattered everywhere, and the bed was stripped of its bedding and pillows.
Cabinets and the bed were moved aside, and the quaint old-style suspended floor was pried up piece by piece; the ancient tiles were stepped on and flipped onto the ground, shattering into piles of rubble.
Soil from overturned flowerpots was scattered everywhere, ashes from the stove, the dust under the floor...
Both inside and outside, the place was a complete mess, almost a ruin.
However, apart from a few pieces of porcelain and a pile of miscellaneous gold and jewelry found in the soil, no trace of any correspondence or shadow could be found.
In the courtyard, an elderly man in his eighties, small in stature and hunched over, was trembling as he leaned on a cane, his eyes filled with the sorrows of a lifetime, witnessing everything in terror.
After countless raids and confiscations, those enthusiastic Red Guards, with their bright red armbands, went about their ransacking easily and skillfully.
Their comfort and composure starkly contrasted with the timid inexperience of the young Red Guards.
The leader began to orate to the elderly man with an interrogative tone about the critical significance of breaking the Four Olds and policies, asking his family not to be stubborn, to recognize the situation, and actively cooperate by honestly confessing where any contraband was hidden at home.
The place turned into a ruin in just two hours.
Terrified, with seven spirits lost and only one remaining, the sickly old man mumbled grievances incomprehensibly, prompting the furious leader to finally lose his temper.
He immediately ordered four or five competent subordinates to first tie up the old man’s two elderly sons and their spouses. After a storm of violence, aside from the vanished younger generation, three elderly people, bloodied and battered, were hung with signs and paraded through the streets.
"These damn bad elements still resist stubbornly! Beat them hard for me."
"Look at this gold, all stained with the blood of us common people."
"Still crying innocence? Old and unyielding, not a single one of your brats is spared."
The crowd, brimming with passion and energy, paraded the three elderly people, their chants reaching the heavens.
At the long procession’s tail, Ping’an raised his arm high, chanting slogans with everyone. Compared to the insignificant disturbances before, his young heart was shaken to the core.
The vanished younger generation, the miscellaneous gold and jewelry dug out from the soil, the surroundings filled with these "victors" resorting to any means as if they owned the place...
Filial piety and conscience, human evil, evidence and defense...
Who was right, who was wrong?
— Was this the reality his parents wanted him to truly see and deeply understand?
Not far behind, "bystander" Zhang Guoqing followed along with the onlookers, keeping an eye on his son in the parade, with a hint of worry in his eyes.
Previously, it was either listening to speeches from advanced activists or visiting exhibitions of ransacking achievements. This time, it was rather significant.
He decided that after this occasion, he would have his son stabilize at home first. Accelerating growth might not be beneficial; understanding the situation reasonably well was enough for an eight-year-old to gain some insight.
After the parade ended, the next activity was reportedly to hand over the day’s findings to a two-story building repurposed as an office, and to visit recent achievements there.
As for where this two-story building came from?
If he guessed correctly, Zhang Guoqing thought it might be the private property of some unfortunate soul targeted. It was uncertain whether the property was void of value or if people were still safe.
This world, truly difficult!
The three elderly people who were just hung with signs had survived the little devils, several purges, and famine, and according to whispers from surrounding observers, they were from a cadre family with some assets, but they couldn’t escape this wave?
What’s a two-story building anyway? Intentional versus unsuspecting. When it’s time to devour, everyone glared with scarlet eyes, eager to bite first.
Such a pitiful reality.
In the small building’s hall, luxurious fabrics, extravagant goods, gold and silver jewelry, antiques, calligraphy and paintings, religious artifacts, and so on overwhelmed the senses.
In front of the bountiful spoils, a female student with a red armband, wearing a faded military uniform, stood on a stool acting as a tour guide.
Besides this returning team, middle and high school students from across the country were earnestly listening to these heroic stories.
Many of the students were diligently taking notes.
It had been ten to fifteen days since Ping’an last came here to admire the spoils, and he keenly noticed this was another batch of new achievements.
Where were the original ones?
But actually, Ping’an would not bother asking. Being short, he easily observed the particular greed in the eyes of the older team members when they looked down.
After the activity ended, it was already past three in the afternoon. Unlike Wen Yu, who had to go home, he followed the small unit directly onto the bus back to the Big Courtyard.
This time entering the house, he didn’t go into the living room first but stood in the courtyard, looking around thoughtfully.
Until Aunt Chen left to pick up the twins from the nursery, he moved — turning and going up to his bedroom on the second floor.
He dragged out a large wooden box, and Ping’an absentmindedly took out snacks from it, and after emptying it, began going in and out of his room, his two brothers’ rooms, and their study room.
A couple of ancient books glued under the bedboard, foreign novels with new covers, satin pajamas... anything deemed delicate he placed inside.
He was worried. Today, listening to those older brothers and sisters from all over the country sharing their exchange and summarizing, after they went back, through propaganda, through imitation...
Just as his parents said, the prelude had truly begun.
He wasn’t worried about his grandfather or his parents but was anxious that one careless mistake between him and his two brothers might give the adults away.
Zhang Guoqing returned to work after the parade ended and rushed home eagerly as soon as the workday’s bugle sounded.
He found his eldest son upstairs, and with a chuckle, he picked up Ping’an and spun him around. Truly excellent! He was worried the child would, like his mom, be mired in melancholy and indecision.
"Dad, when mom comes home from work, let’s hide this box of things too, and when my brothers and I need something, we’ll find her to ask."
Zhang Guoqing didn’t say he followed him all morning and naturally witnessed what digging three feet under meant. Nor did he question the deeper meaning behind his son’s actions.
He and his wife, along with his father-in-law, let the child see and hear for themselves, didn’t they? Now it seemed the effect was excellent, surpassing their expectations.
"No problem! Nowhere is safer than leaving it with your mom."
Ping’an smiled. He always thought his mom was an immortal fairy, but now he realized his mom had something like a mythical Qiankun Bag.
But... This secret involved his mom’s life safety. His dad didn’t say, and his mom never explained. He’d just assume his mom was indeed the fairy from a fairy tale.