Red Romance

By Zhong Faquan

Translated by Zhang Yan & Robin Gilbank

Proofread by Hu Zongfeng

It was a dreary and desolate day in the late fall. Beneath the intermittent gleam of the midnight moon, a thin and weak woman in a red cotton coat trod along the leaf-strewn path, making her escape to the Yan’an Revolutionary Base Area.

Bravery on the Log Bridge

The torrid waters rushed downriver with a slapping whoosh, swirling violently as they went.

Here was a lady in a gray military uniform. Her name was Osmanthus Flower and she was not so tall with a crown of short hair. She wandered along the banks of the Seven Streams River, in a mood of dark brooding. Gazing at the incessant current, she burned with anxiety. There was little time for her; she knew it was the crucial moment for her to make her decision, or else she would once again be doomed to endless affliction and misery.

Day by day the situation in the base area had been growing increasingly complex, tense, and hostile. The cracking sound of gunfire between enemy and comrade was to be heard clearly in the near vicinity, at the heart of the zone. More and more wounded casualties were being carried back from the front lines, and the territory under Communist control was growing smaller and smaller. Dense billows of gunpowder smoke mingled with the dark storm clouds, rolling angrily beneath the otherwise serene blue sky.

The Red Army had agreed upon a final decision: the base area must be abandoned and the Long March northwards embarked upon in order to resist Japanese aggression. The name list of personnel to accompany the main force underwent endless revision. Due to the ever-changing situation, modifications had to be made with each new day and a fresh plan formulated, with the most significant changes to be seen in the roster of nurses at the field hospital.

Initially, it was decided that all eleven female nurses from the hospital should accompany the main northbound force. But one day later, word came that half of them were to stay behind. Then, the day after that, it was announced that only two nurses would go ahead with the troops to the west. Despite being referred to as a “field hospital”, it barely functioned as such. Before the fifth counter-encirclement campaign, there had been three doctors and over twenty female nurses. Several battles later, one doctor perished on the spot while rescuing wounded soldiers from the field. A senior practitioner of traditional Chinese medicine vanished during a nighttime evacuation. He was in his fifties and there was neither news nor trace of him for almost half a year. As events wore on, only Dr. Huo, who graduated from the Wuhan Union Medical College and had previously worked as a military doctor for the Kuomintang before joining the Red Army, and a pharmacist, Ms. Liu were left. Based on his unique experience and qualifications, he was appointed head of the hospital during this critical time.

Upon learning they would be staying behind in the base area, the female nurses burst into tears. They were all aware of the inevitable hardships and dangers of the northbound expedition, but they knew even better the struggles and perils of fighting a guerrilla campaign in the base area. The nurses destined to stay behind solemnly vowed, “We will live as Red Army soldiers and die as Red Army ghosts. If the main force doesn’t take us with them, we’ll jump into the raging waters of the Seven Streams River.” This was not an off-the-cuff remark but a heartfelt expression of their unwavering determination. They also deliberately purposefully made sure that this was known to Squad Leader Wanjun, hoping she would convey their strong conviction to the leaders.

Squad Leader Wanjun, whose family name was Xie, was affectionately called “Wanjun” by her fellow nurses her Chinese name sounded elegant and graceful. She knew that the sisters were not joking or trying to rattle anyone; they were deadly serious. Each of them had endured torture and harbored a deeply ingrained longing for vengeance. Seeking a brighter future, they had voluntarily joined the Red Army. Nurse Osmanthus Flower, in particular, was a petite woman, but she possessed indomitable courage. On her wedding night, with red candles flickering away, she boldly tied up her groom, who was barely sixteen - two years younger than her - and epileptic, to the bedpost. The surface of the post was adorned with red Chinese characters symbolizing happiness and a prosperous future. Calmly, she fled from the house of her landlord father-in-law, unfazed by darkness and peril, traversing hills and gloomy forested mountains on foot. She trekked all alone throughout the night until she reached her destination, Seven Li Brook, whereupon she joined the Red Army.

At that time, Osmanthus Flower appeared short, with hair as dull and yellow as the pine needles which litter the ground in winter. Her thin body looked nothing like that of a seventeen-year-old girl but more like a pre-pubescent of eleven or twelve. Wanjun, who was in charge of recruiting and performing the physical examination on new female Red Army soldiers, bluntly rejected her application to enlist on the grounds of her youth and failure to meet the height and weight requirements. Having encountered Wanjun’s rebuff, Osmanthus Flower did not give up but resorted to both persuasion and pleading. Still, no matter how much she tearfully begged, Wanjun assuredly could not believe that the young lady was actually seventeen years old and would not give her the nod to enlist.

From dawn till sunset, Osmanthus Flower, who had been unable to join the Red Army, remained at the recruitment site. She relentlessly trailed Wanjun everywhere, determined not to leave until she was accepted. In the face of a determined Osmanthus Flower, who wore a bright red cotton coat, the cropped-haired Wanjun found herself at her wit’s end. At that moment, a person was to be seen standing on the plank bridge opposite the gate, with a Red Army soldier following on closely behind.

The wooden bridge creaked with the man’s every hurried step, casting his tall and imposing twilit shadow onto the clear water below. He was the deputy commander of the Red Army, renowned for his bravery and fearlessness in battle. He had earned the nickname “Tiger Xu.” Suddenly, Wanjun struck upon an idea. She pointed at the approaching man and told the girl, “Little Osmanthus Flower, look at the big chief coming across the bridge. Go and ask him. If he agrees, I'll take you on as a Red Army soldier.”

Wanjun assumed that Osmanthus was so timid that she would not dare speak to the formidable Deputy Commander Xu, whom she had never met before. Instead, without the least hesitation, she strode boldly through the gate towards him. Deputy Commander Xu stepped off the end of the plank bridge only to hear Osmanthus Flower declare, “Big Chief, I want to join the Red Army!”

Deputy Commander Xu was simply staring at the gate of the Soviet government office, not expecting to be intercepted by a thin and fragile girl so insistent on being allowed to enlist. He bent down, and said to her in a kind tone of voice, “Little girl, go and play with your friends. You’re not even as tall as a rifle.”

Osmanthus Flower spread her arms wide to block his path and retorted, “I’m seventeen years old this year, not a little girl anymore!”

The usually stern Xu was amused by this brash youngster and chuckled, “Are you really seventeen? Are you even as tall as the stone lions by the gate? You don’t even know how to cheat folks in a convincing way.”

Osmanthus Flower grew agitated and, her bright eyes filled with tears of frustration, she said, “I just got married yesterday. Forced into it by the landlord. But I fled alone last night with the purpose of joining the Red Army.”

Deputy Commander Xu halted and studied the short female standing before him. Then, addressing Xie Wanjun, who was outside the gate of the headquarters, instructed, “Little Xie, come and take her away. Don’t let her bother me anymore.”

Deputy Commander Xu’s words were ambiguous, and Xie Wanjun was duly puzzled. She wasn’t sure if he meant to approve Osmanthus Flower’s enlistment or simply wanted her gone. The girl, on the other hand, caught the message loud and clear. Even though she had never received any education in a classroom, she understood perfectly the implications of “taking someone away.” And so, turning to the hesitant Wanjun, she piped up with, “You did hear that, right? The Big Chief Xu just told you to take me with you.”

Xie Wanjun was tired of the troublesome Osmanthus Flower and shook her head in an attitude of futility. “Fine, just come with me, then,” she said. “And carry that medicine box for me.”

So it was that Osmanthus Flower finally found herself as a nurse serving in the Red Army field hospital. But fate had other plans. Soon after that, the base area faced grave challenges, and the troops prepared themselves for a pivotal move. The majority would march north to resist the Japanese, while a select few would stay behind. Aware of Osmanthus’s daring spirit and perseverance, the nurses unanimously selected her to speak with Deputy Commander Xu on their behalf. Reluctant though she was, she agreed. Since joining the hospital, she had had no opportunity to encounter Deputy Commander Xu. He was always at the forefront of battles and, besides, his actual injuries never amounted to anything more than superficial scratches. If he wasn’t wounded, then he wouldn’t come to the hospital, and if he didn’t come to the hospital she had no chance to meet him. How could she ever get to see him? It was then that a little Nurse named Tian Ying hatched a clever plan to engineer a meeting with Xu.

It was a moonlit night. The Seven Streams River carried a melodious tune just as if a violin serenade were enticing one to sleep. In the depths of night, the Red Base Area became serene at last, which was something rare. Osmanthus Flower, Tian Ying, and Zhao Lan walked towards the narrow bridge, which was shaped like a fork. Its silhouette hung above the river like a faintly discernible cable in the night sky. The waters below shimmered like dark gold in the moonlight. Despite her short stature, Osmanthus Flower had grown up in the mountains and was undaunted by the dark, much less the narrow bridge.

Osmanthus led Tian Ying and Zhao Lan across the bridge. While stepping along its narrow surface, Tian Ying became struck with fear. Especially at night, the narrow planks and the glistening silky water under the bridge sent shivers down her spine. Usually, Tian Ying would only dare to cross this bridge if someone held her hand or if she could grab onto their clothing. In the dark night, the bridge seemed like a rope swinging in the air. It horrified her. Noticing Tian Ying’s timidity, Osmanthus scolded her by saying “With a heart like that, how can you expect to follow the main army north and fight the Japanese? You should stay behind here.”

“Dear sister, I’m not afraid of walking in the dark,” Tian Ying pleaded. “But this bridge terrifies me. I’m scared of falling into the river and being captured by the water spirits.”

As they were talking, a series of resounding and powerful footsteps was to be heard. It was just like the emphatic banging of a woodpecker. Osmanthus immediately realized that it must be Xu, the deputy commander, returning from the front line. Time was limited, so she quickly turned around to Tian Ying, who was cowering at the end of the bridge. She seized her hand and said, “I’ll keep hold of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of. At worst, we’ll end up in the river.”

The plank bridge spanned over two hundred meters in length and was approximately thirty centimeters wide. For the convenience of travelers passing in opposite directions, a plank had been added to widen certain sections. As Osmanthus Flower, Tian Ying, and Zhao Lan reached the middle, a vigorous figure approached. All of a sudden, the bridge began to shudder. Tian Ying, being timid, nervously crouched down. As the figure drew closer, his vigilant bodyguard, who was following on closely behind, noticed the strangers ahead of them and, while reaching for his gun, growled loudly, “Who’s there?”

Osmanthus Flower stepped forward anxiously and said, “It’s me.”

The guard frowned, “Who might you be? Tell me your name. What business do you have being here at midnight?”

“I’m Osmanthus Flower, a nurse from the military field hospital,” she replied, stepping onto the main span of the narrow bridge.

Deputy Commander Xu paused a few paces from her and inquired, “What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Why aren’t you asleep?”

“We were waiting for the Big Chief, and we want to follow the main army.” Osmanthus Flower spoke incoherently and without logical order.

“Join the main army? But they haven’t left yet,” Xu noted.

“We’ve heard it said that the main army is heading north to fight against the Japanese, and we wish to follow the unit.” Osmanthus sounded insistent as she took another step forward.

Xu laughed. “And who’s preventing you from marching northward to fight?”

“Our squad leader, Xie Wanjun, thinks that certain chiefs think we cannot bear hardship and we would prove a burden. And so they prefer us to stay put.” Osmanthus tried to clarify her words through gritted teeth.

“Staying at the base is a crucial task as well. Waging guerrilla warfare against the Japanese is equally significant. It’s really a challenge to abandon everything and follow the main army.” Xu tried to encourage her with this tack.

“Big Chief, we three have made up our minds. If you don’t agree, we’ll just plunge into the river now!” she declared excitedly.

Xu laughed heartily, saying, “Bravo, Osmanthus Flower! Do you ladies have the nerve to leap into the river?”

Before the echo of his words had faded, there was a loud call of “Oh my!” The timid Tian Ying had stumbled and found herself in the chilly waters of the Seven Streams River. Without hesitation, Osmanthus Flower slid down the pillar of the bridge, diving in to save her.

It was already midnight. The reflection of the moon in the river was clear and bright, while a mist rose from its banks. The late fall winds whipped their faces. With the help of the bodyguard, Osmanthus Flower and Tian Ying, now shivering from the icy water, managed to clamber onto the shore. Xu promptly removed his cotton coat and tossed it to the guard, saying, “Wrap them up. They’re tougher than boys. I see potential here. Go prepare, and let them know I’ve given my permission.”

Thus, as the Red Army marched northwards to attack the Japanese, its Nursing Corps gained three new valiant members: Osmanthus Flower, Tian Ying, and Zhao Lan. Their determination to join the Long March in spite of the dangers became a testament to their unyielding loyalty and revolutionary spirit. From then on, this became an oft-repeated story.

Of course, then there was the timely incident of Tian Ying plunging into the water. It became a cherished, humorous anecdote shared among the sisters.

On the Long March to the north, the officers and soldiers of the Red Army hailed them as examples, praising “little” Osmanthus Flower for her remarkable bravery and calling them the “Mulans” of the Red Army.

A Favor out of Gratitude

During the fierce battle at Black Wind Pass, the Dark Stream became stained red with blood.

This individual unit of the Red Army, which had ventured north to resist the Japanese invaders, suffered its second major setback since the Long March. At this critical moment, Deputy Commander Xu once more dived into the battle, commanding his troops to put up fierce resistance in their defense of Black Wind Pass. Thanks to his efforts, the main force of the Red Army was able to retreat safely into the remote valleys of the Qinling Mountains.

On that day, the resistance and counterattack were unusually intense. The enemy launched frenzied onslaughts and the temporary defensive line was on the verge of collapse. In desperation, Deputy Commander Xu grabbed a light machine gun from a fallen gunner, stood up with abandon, and pulled the trigger, firing incessantly at the enemy who were mere meters away. As their adversaries tumbled like grass mowed down by a scythe and the fierce attack was once again intercepted, a bullet flew towards Xu. He instinctively raised his head and tried to dodge away at once. All his efforts seemed futile as the flying bullet hit its target.

His vision grew black as he collapsed on the slope.

Once again Xu had sustained serious injuries. Indeed, his typical good fortune was not with him. This time, it was no minor bullet graze or a stray scratch. Instead, he was hit by a bullet that penetrated his cheek. Fortunately, the high-speed ammunition did not become lodged in his lower brain but pierced through his cheek below the right eye socket and exited near the back of his head.

Xu would not be able to rejoin the fray as had been the case when he was slightly wounded. Instead, he had suffered a near-fatal blow, slipping into a deep coma and being left unconscious on a stretcher. At the temporary rescue shelter he received emergency medical attention, including the staunching of his bleeding and bandaging. Then, the soldiers transported him via several relay legs, before finally arriving with the main force in the relatively safe town of Gepai, deep within the Qinling Mountains.

Gepai was a small place within the mountain range, being home to only a few dozen families. Yet, it was a vital junction for travelers entering or leaving Lantian County from Shanyang. Despite its modest size, Gepai had a surprising array of shops selling salt, grain, and iron goods, as well as small restaurants which could supply the necessities of life. On the first and fifteenth days of every month, mountain dwellers gathered here for trade. Gepai was transformed into a bustling hub for merchants in the area. Moreover, surrounded as it was by natural elevations, the town had intrinsic defensive advantages and was chosen as a temporary base for the Red Army. The Red Army headquarters were set up in the Wang Family Ancestral Hall, while the military hospital was installed in a temple on just the other side of the wall. The latter consisted of only a few tiled rooms. After Dr. Huo and his team arrived at the temple, owing to the shortage of space, he instructed Squad Leader Xie Wanjun to set up an operating table with wooden planks in front of the statues of the Buddha. Thus, the temple was transformed into a makeshift surgical theater for treating injured soldiers.

After Xu was wounded, he remained in a coma, unconscious and insensitive to pain, with his breathing barely perceptible. Unless one were to place a hand close to his nose, nobody could judge whether he was still alive or not. In fact, from the moment he fell, he was enmeshed in a life-and-death struggle, exhausting all his vitality and perseverance.

Dr. Huo, the director of the military hospital, worked under the dim light to set about the preoperative cleaning of blood clots and disinfecting Xu’s wounds. The room was as cold as the conditions outside, so for the convenience of conducting the surgery they placed two charcoal braziers in the corner to keep everyone warm. Before he started the suturing, Dr. Huo frequently fanned his slender fingers over the fire until the blood in his veins surged. Then, he picked up the surgical needle to sew up the bullet hole on the outer side of Xu’s right cheek. This puncture was even thicker than a thumb. After carefully completing the stitching, he once again approached the charcoal braziers to warm his hands. The temperature indoors was too chilly, and soon his fingers became numb, making it difficult to hold the needle and thread. While heating up his hands, Dr. Huo rubbed them, hoping his digits would recover as soon as possible, and was mindful of how unbearable the cold must have been for Xu. As Dr. Huo warmed his hands, several nurses carefully turned the patient’s body to suture the bullet hole on the back of his head. The hole, larger than an adult's thumb, was pulsing and bleeding. Dr. Huo swiftly dried the blood with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball and picked up the needle to begin stitching, much like a woman sewing a garment. Standing nearby, holding the surgical tray, Osmanthus Flower couldn’t help but weep. “It’s still bleeding now,” she murmured. “If you sew up the bullet hole, where will the blood go?” Dr. Huo said nothing and just looked at her resolutely. Squad Leader Xie Wanjun, who was assisting, replied simply and firmly, “If we don’t sew it up, are we just meant to let all the blood drain out of the Deputy Commander?”

The cold north wind howled through the valley, occasionally sending fine snowflakes fluttering from the rooftop. The room was frigid, yet Dr. Huo’s undergarments were damp with sweat from excessive worry and tension. On the operating table, Deputy Commander Xu lay unconscious, a bullet wound close to his brain disrupting its central functions. Momentarily, his sense of pain had vanished, leaving him as still as death. Were it not for the faint breath escaping through his nostrils, one might think Xu had truly slipped away on the surgical table. The consequences of such an outcome would be dire, and the soldiers anxiously waiting outside the door would never forgive Dr. Huo and the nurses for this loss.

After the surgery on Xu was completed, the nurses took over. Osmanthus Flower voluntarily assumed the responsibility of caring for him. Dr. Huo told her, “Deputy Commander Xu’s injury is quite severe. It’s located in an extremely delicate area. He won’t recover or regain consciousness for a day or two. It will all depend on a combination of his luck and your nursing skills.”

Osmanthus Flower stood to attention and declared, “I am grateful to the Big Chief. Ever since I joined the army, I have wanted to repay him for his kindness. Now that he’s in need, I shall do everything in my power to keep him alive.”

Dr. Huo stared at the short and slender but determined Osmanthus Flower before him and reminded her, “The commander has lost a significant amount of blood, making him susceptible to colds and coughing, and to his airways becoming blocked with phlegm.”

Osmanthus offered him her firm reassurance. “Rest assured,” she said. “I’ll move into the ward to watch over the commander. With me here, he is bound to pull through.”

Amid the remote Qinling Mountains, winter brought an unusual frigidity, transforming the building into an icebox. Cold draughts snuck in through cracks in the roof, chilling the room. Osmanthus Flower instructed the guard to periodically top up the brazier with charcoal. As the flames blazed, the temperature inside rose significantly compared with the outside. The charcoal fire served as a beacon of warmth and hope in the dark night. Knowing that cold often starts from the lower extremities, Osmanthus tilted herself into position beside the bed and placed Xu’s feet on her chest to warm his icy toes. The bullet wound had affected the central nervous system of his brain making it hard for him to cough up mucus, so once Osmanthus Flower noticed Xu’s lips moving, she used her hands to open his mouth and then removed the mucus with the aid of her own mouth. With such excessive blood loss, nourishment was vital. The guard purchased a local chicken from a villager, and Osmanthus stewed this into a soup, spooning it into Xu’s mouth. Without any antibiotics available, his face swelled up so that it resembled a watermelon. One day, two days, three days …. he lay there motionless and unable to eat, like a lifeless wooden figure.

It snowed for days back-to-back, then stopped. The sun peeked shyly out from behind the clouds like a blushing bride. With the warmth of the sun, it was comfortable both inside and outside. Yet, the enemy simultaneously became more active. Intelligence from beyond the mountains revealed that their opponents were assembling in that region, waiting to for the snow to melt before launching an offensive against the Red Army in their Qinling hiding place. The Red Army briefly rested before preparing to relocate once more. Given Xu’s serious infirmity, Dr. Huo proposed transferring him to a villager’s home in Gepai Town. That way he might avoid the risk of contracting typhoid fever during the course of the bitter winter, when there would be rough travel, and he would be exposed on a stretcher. Dr. Huo’s suggestion, grounded in his medical expertise and shaped by Xu’s special condition, met with fierce opposition from Osmanthus Flower. Undaunted by Dr. Huo’s customary show of authority, Osmanthus Flower boldly rejected the plan out of hand, saying “How can we do that? The Big Chief is just recovering. We can’t leave him alone in a villager’s home!”

“What do you know?” The doctor was now stern. “Don’t spout nonsense about matters you don’t understand. In this freezing cold, moving him around and hiding him will do nothing to help his wound heal. He needs rest.”

Determined to protect Deputy Commander Xu, Osmanthus refuted resolutely, “Deputy Commander Xu is severely injured. He can’t hide from the enemy. If they capture him, he’ll have no chance of surviving. With the main force here and us, he’s sure to be safe.

Dr. Huo glared at her. “A week has gone by and Deputy Commander Xu’s wound is almost healed, but he’s still unconscious. How can we carry him around on a stretcher in the mountains?”

“You don’t know!” she tried to provide an explanation in a reassuring manner. “Although Deputy Commander Xu can’t speak and is like a wooden man, he is able to waggle his fingers and toes, and can roll his eyes. After a little while, he’s sure to wake up and be commanding battles just like before.”

Disgusted by the girl’s presumptuous interruption, Dr. Huo told her coldly, “Don't talk nonsense. Movement in the toes is just the nerves twitching. Besides, how do you even know his toes move?”

Unlike Tian Ying and Zhao Lan, the bold Osmanthus wasn’t fazed by the doctor. If she believed she was right, she would stand her ground confidently. Her naivety allowed her to speak with a candid directness. Straightforwardly, she said, “Of course, I know. Every night, I hold his feet close to my heart to warm them. Whenever his toes flinch, I know it.”

Osmanthus Flower’s words changed Dr. Huo’s mind. Understanding all too well how this troop couldn’t function without their Deputy Commander. If anything bad befell him, how could he explain this to his beloved chief and the soldiers under him? He would become a pariah in the eyes of those passionate soldiers. After some consideration, he gave up on his former idea and saw how hasty his reasoning had been. He then hit upon a flimsy excuse and stated, “Osmanthus Flower is right. The commander is our strength and backbone in battle and an indispensable god of war for this troop. No matter how difficult it proves, we must carry him with the main force.”

“Dr. Huo is amazing,” the young nurse responded joyfully. “It might not matter much to this unit if Tian Ying or me were left behind, but we can't dump our Big Chief in this valley.”

Dr. Huo issued an immediate order to the effect of “Osmanthus Flower, from now on, I’m entrusting you with the hard task of escorting the commander. If anything happens to him, such as catching a cold or falling off the stretcher, you will be the first one brought to account.”

Osmanthus patted her chest twice and said confidently, “Dr. Huo, please believe in me 100%. As long as I live, I’ll ensure the Chirf’s safety.” After this oath was sworn, the guards, stretcher bearers, Tian Ying, and Zhao Lan stood in a row, bravely and voluntarily taking on the responsibility of forming the commander’s escort.

To make amends for his earlier mistake, Dr. Huo gave a solemn order in a rather lofty tone, saying, “Now that the commander’s condition is improving day by day, you must be extremely careful on the road. If there’s any mistake, such as slipping over or him getting even a mild headache or fever, I'll hold you all responsible.”

Osmanthus Flower planned meticulously what preparations should be made with regards to his support. She first laid two layers of cotton quilts at the base, and after transferring Xu from his bed, she covered him with another quilt and then wrapped him in two dogskins, one for his upper body and one for his limbs. Finally, she tied the dogskins securely with bandages. Although this added considerable weight to the stretcher, it was well worth it, not only to protect against cold and rain but also to ensure safety.

On the third day after the heavy snowfall stopped, and the enemy began its purge of the Red Army. They advanced from Lantian to Gepai directly, though the troop received the news in advance and were able to set about relocating. Thanks to the prescient preparations made by Osmanthus Flower, Deputy Commander Xu remained warm and safe wherever the troops camped - be it in caves, forests, or temples. The guards and stretcher bearers took turns, and the female nurses were on duty in shifts, being certain that they kept pace with the main army.

One afternoon, as the team was going to rest and camp in a place called Lesser Guan Village near Manchuan Pass, the advance scouts encountered the enemy at Manchuan Pass. The sudden outbreak of intense gunfire unexpectedly roused Deputy Commander Xu, who had hitherto been comatose. He suddenly lifted his head from the stretcher and asked, “What place is this?”

The guard was startled at first to see the commander raise his head, but then quickly stepped forward and replied, “We’re in Lesser Guan Village, at the bottom of Manchuan Pass Canyon.”

Deputy Commander Xu surveyed the surroundings and gave a decisive order, saying, “Pass on my words. We need to proceed to Zhen’an in the northwest and be pronto about it.”

Standing alongside the stretcher, an excited Osmanthus Flower supported Xu’s slightly raised shoulder with her hand and exclaimed, “Big Chief, you’re finally awake! It’s such a timely awakening! Little Yu, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and relay the Big Chief’s orders to headquarters.”

Three months earlier, Deputy Commander Xu had led the vanguard from Shangluo to Manchuan Pass, intending to rest there briefly, taking advantage of the rugged terrain and its location close to the border between two provinces. However, on receiving reconnaissance reports, the unit of the Nationalist Army led by Wang Yun and temporarily stationed at Yun County, disregarded their agreement with the Shaanxi troops and rushed to attack. With his years of experience and the flexibility gained from guerrilla warfare, Deputy Commander Xu led his troops on retreat into the Zhen’an area of Qinling. The overconfident Wang Yun chased them, but the Red Army vanished into the mountains like figures of clay oxen dissolving in the sea, and Wang Yun returned empty-handed after wandering aimlessly in several circuits around the valleys.

The sudden skirmish with Wang Yun once again made it difficult for Red Army headquarters to make a decision. Should they attack Wang Yun to the south as planned, or attack Zhen’an to the west? Leaders had divergent opinions on the issue of whether to advance or retreat, and disputes arose.

At this critical moment, Deputy Commander Xu, lying on a stretcher, was carried into the temporary military headquarters. With great effort, he raised his head and issued an unequivocal order to the chief of staff who insisted on attacking Yun County, “Don’t hesitate, listen to me, head southwest along the valley at the earliest opportunity.”

Meanwhile, the troops of the Nationalist Army from Yunxi, Hubei, were launching intense artillery attacks on the hilltops of Manchuan Pass, determined to defeat the Reds. After considering Deputy Commander Xu’s advice, the political commissar ordered the main force to quickly turn around and retreat in an orderly manner along the valley towards Zhen’an. Following orders, the rear guard, responsible for blocking and delaying the enemy, held their positions until nightfall, then withdrew in the darkness to catch up with the main force in Zhen’an.

That day the sky grew jet black so that the deep ravines of the Qinling Mountains seemed like the gaping jaws of tigers waiting to swallow anyone who dared to enter. In the mountains, at the border of the two provinces, Wang Yun’s Nationalist Army feared Red Army ambushes and dared not set out in reckless pursuit. They halted their chase at the “tigers’ jaws.”

Xu’s timely awakening and decisive order once again saved the Red Army from punitive losses and prevented them from being sandwiched between the Nationalist armies of Hubei and Shaanxi.

Marriage for Commitment

Deputy Military Commander Xu was a man who repaid every favor.

One morning at the Black Dragon Pool Temple in Zhen’an, Xu had almost totally recovered. His brain was fully awake and he was able to get down from his bed and walk. The meeting of the military party committee ended, though he did not leave immediately. He waited until the committee members had gone before whispering to the Political Commissar, who was bending over a map, that he wanted permission to get married soon.

The Political Commissar was shocked, being convinced that Xu was joking. Several times while they were in the base area the Political Commissar urged him to take a wife, but he had declined politely each time, saying that if he married a woman during wartime, she would probably be left a widow. He thought it was irresponsible and immoral. Now, he was actively making this request, wasn’t it like the sun coming from the west or had all the trials he had endured proved a great awakening? Hence, the Commissar was both delighted and amazed. After exclaiming several times, he then asked with curiosity, “And who is the bride to be?”

Since he was still not yet fully recovered from his severe wounds, the Deputy Commander spoke weakly with soft voice. “You ought to know her, Nurse Osmanthus Flower of the medical team.”

Osmanthus Flower was more or less well-known among the nurses of the medical team. The Commissar knew her and her stories - being made a child bride, escaping on her wedding night, and joining the Red Army thanks to her relentless efforts. Later she took the initiative to jump in the river with the other nurses by way of convincing Xu to allow them to participate in the Long March. This time she had demonstrated her outstanding bravery and dedication to live and die with Deputy Commander Xu. It was these qualities which allowed Xu to survive his narrow escape. The Commissar, noticing Xu’s determined tone, said “Osmanthus Flower is indeed kind-hearted, diligent, and capable. But as your comrade-in-arms, who has shared trouble and strife with you, I must remind you that marriage is a lifelong commitment. Don’t confuse gratitude and indebtedness with love and matrimony.”

Deputy Commander Xu waved his hand, which was big enough to fan away thick clouds, and said resolutely, “I understand your concerns, but I’ve made up my mind. A good heart and kind nature are all that is needed.”

The news that Xu, the deputy commander, was going to marry Osmanthus Flower caused quite a stir in the military nursing team. The squad leader, Xie Wanjun, just could not understand why such a high-ranking officer would refuse to bide his time and find a better match. Baffled, she sought out Nurse Zhao Lan, who was her close friend. Upon hearing the news, the two women automatically started discussing it with the same thoughts in mind. “Could it be that Osmanthus Flower slipped some kind of secret potion into the bone broth she made for Deputy Commander Xu?” Xie Wanjun commented, clearly puzzled. “Osmanthus Flower is so candid, illiterate, short, and has a face as big as a basin. She’s not at all pretty. Did the commander slip up in his judgment?”

For nearly half a day, the two women exchanged their opinions back and forth, trying to find a satisfactory explanation for Xu’s choice. But in the end, they were still left scratching their heads, unable to reach a conclusion that satisfied both of them.

Zhao Lan knew that Xie Wanjun had secretly held a torch for Xu, and Zhao Lan had taken a fancy to him, too. Both of them kept their affections to themselves, afraid to confess them out loud. Indeed, among the nurses, Xie Wanjun and Zhao Lan stood out not only for their beauty but also for their education. Xie Wanjun was a progressive student who had come to the base from Hanyang City, having completed her junior high school education. Zhao Lan, though not formally educated in a school, had learned at the side of her elder brother with a home tutor, mastering classical Chinese and even being able to recite the Three Character Primer.

Zhao Lan agreed, saying, ‘The commander needs to think about the future. If he married you, he would not need to hire a tutor for learning knowledge.”

Xie Wanjun immediately agreed, “Exactly! If not me, then marrying you would have been a great choice too! You're a hundred times prettier than Osmanthus Flower.”

Zhao Lan, sounding slightly irritated, continued, “Osmanthus Flower has experienced marriage, she understands intimacy, and dares to express herself. She told me that whenever they camped out and she was worried about the commander being cold, she would place his feet on her chest to keep them warm. Can you imagine? After he woke up, how could Deputy Commander Xu not feel grateful to her?"

Xie Wanjun swiftly covered Zhao Lan’s mouth with her hand, saying, “This has gone far enough and must go no further. We shouldn’t talk about these things behind the Commander’s back anymore.”

It was still snowing. Flakes of coin-sized snow floated down slowly, covering the land like a blanket. A few days later, the snow-swaddled ancient valleys and ditches of the Qinling Mountains formed a natural barrier. The enemy’s attack ceased, this natural advantage allowing the Red Army troop to rest and regroup.

Deputy Commander Xu was a man who kept his promises. Once he had basically recovered, he felt a profound gratitude towards Osmanthus Flower when he recalled her thoughtful care during his hard time. One’s gratitude for a timely drop of water should be repaid with a full spring. How could he repay this woman for her Bodhisattva-like kindness and compassion? Whenever he remembered the warm chest she bestowed upon him, his thoughts unconsciously inclined towards marriage. The most brilliant choice he could make now was to marry Osmanthus Flower; marrying her was the best option for the rest of his life. During that time, a fixation with marriage took hold of him, spreading like wild grass in the spring.

Xu approached marriage with the same earnestness and determination as he did the revolution. No matter who came along to dissuade him, they could not shake his will or alter his resolution.

A few days later, the venue being a rural gentleman’s home in Mileliang Town in Zhen’an, Xu asked his guard to buy two sheets of red paper from the market. The hostess’s wife obliged, cutting out a stylized form of the Chinese character Xi, which symbolizes blessing and happiness, together with a pair of magpies symbolizing love and devotion. The Xi was fixed up on the wall in the center of the room and the magpies attached to the window lattice. It was ten o’clock in the morning, and Osmanthus Flower was accompanied by Squad Leader Xie Wanjun and Nurse Zhao Lan, walking from the nurse’s quarters to Xu’s temporary room. Xie led Osmanthus by the hand at the front and Zhao clutched Osmanthus’s quilts, following on behind. When the bedding of the couple was laid out together, this signified that their marriage was consummated. The cooks had prepared a feast, including a pot of chicken soup, and a variety of wild game - pheasants, wild boar, and hares. The Special Forces Company borrowed one silver dollar from a local old hunter in order to buy these items. A range of delicacies and homemade dishes loaded the table. Xie Wanjun and Zhao Lan would never forget this wedding banquet because ever since they stepped out on the Long March they had grown accustomed to meals of wild vegetables and porridge. Sometimes they even struggled against the enemy on empty stomachs. Consequently, today’s abundance of food was a feast for the senses.

Not many guests attended the wedding; only six were invited, namely: the Military Commander, the Political Commissar, the Chief of Staff, Dr. Huo, Squad Leader Xie Wanjun, and Nurse Zhao Lan. The latter two represented Osmanthus Flower’s “family.” Neither the bride nor the groom wore formal wedding attire; they simply cleaned their gray military uniforms. Osmanthus’s round face was without even a hint of make-up, her hair being adorned with just two red flowers crafted by Xie Wanjun from offcuts of the red paper. The Military Commander offered a jar of corn liquor which he had obtained from a wealthy landowner in Zhen’an. The six guests, even the two nurses who had rarely even tasted strong drink, willingly accepted the liquor from the jar, which was wrapped in red cloth. Each one was eager to enjoy the alcohol as a special celebration. This wine was so rich in connotations that each of them was filled with warmth, gratitude, and joy. As Xu’s security guard poured it into their bowls, they drank without even observing the old Chinese custom of initially refusing an offered repast as a sign of courtesy to the host.

Snow piled high up onto the windowsills, and the inside of the room was dim. Yet, to their relief, the fireplace roared and still supplied illumination, so the warm blood in their chests achieved a passionate heat. Every face was radiant with a red hue and happiness. The cheeks of Xie Wanjun and Zhao Lan in particular resembled glowing clouds or peach blossoms in full bloom.

The charcoal fire crackled crisply from time to time and they all, seldom having the chance to indulge in liquor, ate and drank to their heart’s content. Even the normally reserved nurses felt unconstrained and relaxed. They picked up the braised turnips and wild boar meat, chewing it from their bare hands in between sipping wine.

After toasting and drinking altogether, they naturally split into two groups: the men drank among themselves; on the other side, Xie Wanjun and Zhao Lan toasted Osmanthus Flower endlessly. One who indulges in pleasure naturally lets their guard slip. With Xie and Zhao toasting her incessantly, Osmanthus Flower, who had something of a tolerance for drink, nevertheless finally grew drowsy.

In the end Osmanthus Flower couldn’t sit up straight and so Zhao Lan helped her stagger into the inner room. On noticing her departure, the Chief of Staff turned to the Deputy Commander and asked, “Old Xu, why on earth did you marry Osmanthus Flower?”

Lifting his bowl and then draining it, Xu replied, “Chief, everyone has their own preferences, just as some people love radishes and some green vegetables. Osmanthus Flower has a kind heart. When I was unconscious, she warmed my feet with her chest. Who should I marry if not her?”

Silenced, the Chief of Staff took a big gulp of liquor.

Snowflakes drifted down. In the depths of the Qinling Mountains, the small town of Miliang was as dark as ink. The only red brightness came from that modest window, piercing through the dusk outside.

(Zhong Faquan, Northern Literature, August 2023)