Chapter 8: A Life’s Debt and a Family’s Secret

Xu Hengzhou sat in the office specially vacated by the director, his face expressionless as he listened to his newly acknowledged uncle recount the story of his “biological father,” Xu Dashan.

According to this Uncle Song Wenbin, he and Xu Dashan had been comrades-in-arms, sharing an exceptionally deep bond—a friendship forged in life-or-death situations.

The bullet scar on Xu Dashan’s body, he explained, was a testament to saving Song Wenbin’s life.

Remarkably, their paths had first crossed in the recruit camp, where they shared a dormitory. Later, when assigned to companies, they found themselves in the same unit again.

Despite their differing personalities, their friendship flourished, so much so that they yearned to become sworn brothers.

Due to certain family circumstances, Song Wenbin had never married. Consequently, he regarded the son of his sworn brother, Xu Dashan, as his own.

Although military discipline and the vast distance had prevented him from meeting the child, Song Wenbin was well-acquainted with the Xu family’s situation.

During one mission, Song Wenbin and Xu Dashan were working together when Song Wenbin was unexpectedly injured and developed a high fever.

Xu Dashan carried him, attempting to evade enemy pursuit, but escaping with an injured comrade proved incredibly difficult.

Song Wenbin implored Xu Dashan to abandon him, but Xu Dashan adamantly refused. Soon, they found themselves surrounded by the enemy.

Reinforcements eventually arrived, yet Xu Dashan had sustained such severe injuries protecting Song Wenbin that he succumbed to them on the journey back, his breath fading away.

Song Wenbin was rescued, but witnessing Xu Dashan’s death before his eyes left him profoundly shaken.

He recalled Xu Dashan’s last words, murmuring about his wife and children back home. His wife, Xu Dashan had said, should have given birth by then, wondering if it would be a boy or a girl. His eldest son was also due to start school that year, and he had even bought him a new schoolbag.

Holding Song Wenbin’s hand, Xu Dashan had entrusted him with the care of his wife and children. How could Song Wenbin possibly refuse such a plea?

As soon as Song Wenbin’s injuries had somewhat healed, he requested leave and traveled to Xu Dashan’s hometown. However, he found no trace of Xu Dashan’s wife or children.

Xu Dashan’s biological father had long passed away. His stepmother had been unkind to him since marrying into the family, prompting him to move out and live independently early on. Yet, when Song Wenbin arrived, Xu Dashan’s former home was occupied by his stepmother’s family, including his half-brother.

Noticing the evasive glances from these individuals, Song Wenbin immediately sensed something was amiss. Under his persistent questioning, he discovered that Xu Dashan’s wife, upon hearing of her husband’s death, had died in childbirth.

The newborn child had been summarily abandoned by this group, using the excuse of being too frail and lacking food to raise them. In the bitter cold of winter, an infant stood no chance of survival.

Even Xu Dashan’s eldest son had been driven away, his whereabouts unknown. A villager secretly informed Song Wenbin that they had seen Xu Gouzi’s bloodied shoes in the mountains. With wolves inhabiting the area, the child was presumed lost.

How could Song Wenbin accept this? He had traveled thousands of miles only to receive news of his brother’s family being utterly destroyed. Though he knew the villager spoke the truth, having only confided in him due to his military uniform, Song Wenbin clung to a sliver of hope.

‘Hadn’t a body been found?’ he thought. ‘Perhaps the child was still alive…’

Clinging to this faint hope, Song Wenbin searched for four years. He transferred to a desk job in the military, dedicating all his time outside of work to finding the children. Yet, he received no news.

This year, Song Wenbin decided to transition to civilian life. The military assigned him to the First Machinery Factory in Qingjiang City, Huai Province, as a deputy director.

Carrying a simple bundle and his documents, Song Wenbin hurried to Qingjiang. En route, as he passed through the provincial capital, he made sure to visit a close friend: the director of the provincial public security bureau.

The bureau had recently cracked a major case, and the director, chatting with Song Wenbin, couldn’t help but boast a little. He praised the young hero who had played a crucial role, which inevitably led to mentioning the hero’s tragic background.

This mention proved significant. While the speaker had no particular intention, Song Wenbin, listening to the young hero’s information, found it strikingly similar to the child he was searching for!

Song Wenbin grew agitated. He explained his search to the director, who, of course, readily offered his assistance. He then brought Song Wenbin to meet Xu Hengzhou.

Upon meeting, everything clicked. The person he sought had been found, and Song Wenbin’s joy was immeasurable.

For years, he had been plagued by guilt, always thinking that if he hadn’t recovered from his injuries and had gone sooner, his brother’s family might not have met such a tragic end.

In truth, however, he had been too injured to even stand, let alone travel at that time.

After listening to Song Wenbin’s account, Xu Hengzhou silently mourned for Xu Dashan, the hero. He understood that the true Xu Gouzi had likely perished, and Song Wenbin simply refused to believe it.

Since he had assumed Xu Gouzi’s identity, he would acknowledge Xu Dashan as his father. People in this era valued the continuation of a family line, and he would fulfill his filial duties, making offerings during festivals and holidays.

Finishing his story, Song Wenbin sighed deeply. “It’s good that I found you,” he said. “It’s a pity I came too late and couldn’t save your younger brother…”

Xu Hengzhou observed the profound grief in Song Wenbin’s eyes, understanding the depth of the man’s sorrow.

Unable to bear it, Xu Hengzhou hesitated, then whispered, “Actually, I heard my younger brother was picked up by someone. It’s just that the family lived too far away, and I don’t remember where they were.”

Song Wenbin’s eyes lit up with immense joy, and his voice trembled as he asked, “Is what you’re saying true? Yes, he must have been picked up! He must still be alive!”

He laughed for a moment, then covered his face, sobbing softly. “Dashan, I’m sorry, my brother. But at least I’ve found our eldest nephew, and the younger nephew is still alive…”

After a long while, Song Wenbin finally composed himself. He had lived under such immense pressure for years. The four lives of the Xu family had weighed on his heart like heavy stones, and today, at last, two of them had been lifted.

Wiping his face, he asked Xu Hengzhou, “Does your younger brother have any distinguishing marks on him?”

He wanted to ensure that if they ever met in the future, they wouldn’t fail to recognize each other. Xu Hengzhou paused, taken aback. ‘His younger brother?’ He had no desire to even look at his father’s illegitimate children, let alone know if they had any marks.

Xu Hengzhou mused that if he were to have a younger brother, he would want one like the little fool—stupid, perhaps, but endearing. With this thought, Xu Hengzhou, as if by some strange impulse, spoke up.

“My younger brother… he has a small red mole on his right hand, a little past the web between his thumb and forefinger, towards the back of his hand.”

Song Wenbin silently committed this to memory. This mark would be easy to spot; if they ever met, he was sure to see it.

Afterward, Song Wenbin immediately handled the adoption procedures for Xu Hengzhou, officially listing him under his own name. However, it was as an uncle and nephew, and he didn’t require Xu Hengzhou to call him ‘father,’ likely wanting him not to forget his biological father.

When registering the household, Xu Hengzhou naturally did not want to be called Xu Gouzi. Song Wenbin also found the name rather undignified and worried he might be mocked by classmates when he went to school. Thus, he allowed Xu Hengzhou to change his name.

They lingered in the provincial capital for a few more days before finally setting off for Qingjiang City.

***

Qingjiang City.

Chen Guoliang’s family was gathered around the dining table, eating. The square table usually stood upright against the wall, only flattened onto the family’s tall stools during mealtimes.

Their arrangement was a necessity. Their previous home had actually been larger than their current one-bedroom, one-living-room apartment, but it was a single-story house.

How could it compare to the grandeur of this multi-story building? So, when the opportunity arose to exchange for a new place, Cai Zhen, without hesitation, used her father’s connections to secure this apartment.

As their eldest daughter was growing older, Cai Zhen had ingeniously partitioned the bedroom and carved out a section of the living room, adding a fabric curtain to create what essentially functioned as a small two-bedroom space.

She and her husband shared the large bed with their one-year-old youngest daughter, while the three older daughters slept on a smaller bed.

This living arrangement was considered quite good among their neighbors. Many families with both sons and daughters had teenage girls still sleeping with their parents.

However, this meant the living room became inevitably smaller. If guests arrived, placing even two chairs left no space for a small tea table.

Fortunately, people at that time weren’t so particular; everyone lived similarly, and no one looked down on others.

During meals, the dining table naturally had to be set up, especially today, with Chen Guoliang’s mother, sister, and brother-in-law visiting. It would be unthinkable not to have the guests seated at the table.

Moreover, the Chen family had a joyous occasion today: a new addition to the family. They had to prepare something special. So, Cai Zhen rummaged through the grain jar and vegetable basket, managing to put together a respectable spread of dishes.

Old Lady Chen sat regally at the head of the table, with Xiang Chen pulled to sit beside her. To her right sat Chen Guoliang and Cai Zhen; to her left were Chen Hongying and her husband, Wang Dazhu. Across from them sat two young girls.

The two girls were Chen Guoliang’s eldest daughter, Chen Fen, thirteen, and his second daughter, Chen Fang, ten. The third daughter, Chen Xiaohua, only five, was tending to her younger sister and had not joined the table.

Cai Zhen took a rice spoon and first served a full bowl of cornmeal gruel to Old Lady Chen, then to the other adults. She put on a good face; the gruel was thick and everyone received a generous portion.

However, in times of food scarcity, with so many extra mouths to feed, there was never quite enough grain. By the time it was Cai Zhen’s turn, there was only a little over one bowl left in the pot, and the children hadn’t even been served yet.

Cai Zhen hesitated, then served half a bowl to Xiang Chen and half a bowl to herself. She then added water to the pot and stirred, scraping off all the cornmeal gruel clinging to the sides, along with the remnants at the bottom, creating a very thin corn porridge.

This half-pot of corn porridge, Cai Zhen divided among her daughters, then retrieved several black steamed buns from the cupboard, giving one to each of them.

Chen Fen, the eldest daughter, watched with wide eyes as her mother distributed the cornmeal gruel. Infuriated, she slammed her chopsticks down. “Why do I have to eat this? It’s bad enough you and Dad eat it, but where did that bastard come from?”

Xiang Chen, who was about to push his bowl away, paused. He had no intention of eating better food than the family’s biological children. However, his refusal to eat and this little girl’s refusal to let him eat were two entirely different matters. This young girl, he surmised, was likely in for trouble.

Indeed, no sooner had Chen Fen’s words left her lips than Cai Zhen’s face blanched. Before she could even speak up for her daughter, Old Lady Chen sternly declared,

“Whose household rules are these? A junior daring to throw chopsticks at the dining table? Fourth, do you know how to teach children? If you don’t, send her back to the village, and I’ll discipline her for you.”