Didi snorted. “As if fancy writing’s any
use here.” He gestured toward their village,
its brick hovels dwarfed by the surrounding
mountains.
Indeed, the Bao fortunes had fallen
steadily since the age of emperors. And after
the Communists seized China, all that had
remained were the family’s tales and their
ancestral lands in Anhui province, a back-
water even by rural standards.
“Besides,” Didi muttered, “the way
the government’s going, it’s safer to be
an idiot!”
Squeeeeeee!
The twins jumped as a young pig burst
from their granduncle’s yard. It dashed
out of the village, then leaped down an
embankment and into their father’s lotus
patch.
The boys cursed and ran to catch the
rooting animal.
“Next time this pig gets loose,” Didi
snarled, “I’m turning it into sausage.”
Xinxin grunted in agreement. Their
absentminded granduncle kept forgetting to
latch his gate, and his pig used each opportu-
nity to escape into Ba’s lotus patch.
Together the brothers grabbed the
porker as it wriggled and fought, unwill-
ing to leave its soggy wallow. Then above
its squealing came a girlish laugh. “I always
thought you boys smelled funny. Now I
know why!”
“Lanlan?” Xinxin gasped, surprised at the
sight of the lanky girl on the footpath above,
her braids shaking with laughter.
“Why are you here?” asked Didi, equally
startled. Although they saw their cousin
often, it was always at the Bao’s large ancestral
hall in Tangyue Town across the mountain.
She’d never deigned to come to tiny Baojia
Village before.
“We’re here for important business,” said
Lanlan, pointing. Further up the path, six men
carrying bulky packs descended into the valley.
The brothers exchanged a look. Something
big was coming.THE VILLAGE STOREHOUSE usually
held only farm implements. That night, how-
ever, all twenty-five villagers crowded inside
with their Tangyue relatives to hear Lanlan’s
father. The atmosphere grew more oppressive
as he spoke.
When he had finished, Xinxin’s grand-
father replied grimly, “So, the Red Guards
are in our midst.”
Xinxin shuddered. Months before,
Chairman Mao had proclaimed a Cultural
Revolution, denouncing tradition and “intel-
lectual elites.” Spurred by his rhetoric, zealous
university students formed brigades to destroy
monuments and terrorize scholars. These
self-styled Red Guards had thrown cities into
chaos, and their squads had now spread to the
countryside.
“And they’re not just raiding schools and
temples,” said Lanlan’s father. “They’re target-
ing ancestral halls and private residences, too.
That’s why we’ve come.” Removing a wooden
scroll case from his pack, he placed it on a
worktable and unfurled its contents.ZEALOUS MEANS PASSIONATE AND
DETERMINED! WITH CONVICTION.
33