RBI1960 Chapter 20

“What are you looking at?” The man huddled in the corner noticed the crowd pointing and whispering, and suddenly flushed with anger. Face red, he shouted toward the people outside.

“Are you all trying to defend him?” He pointed at Lu Jianxun, who lay collapsed on the ground.

The man who had just lit a torch turned his fierce gaze toward the onlookers at the door.

The crowd that had gathered at the doorway immediately scattered. Though they sympathized with the teacher they called “Mr. Lu,” in times like these, keeping your head down was more important than anything. Who would risk trouble for a stranger?

“What are you sneaking around for, lurking by the door with all those bags? Are you carrying reactionary materials? Open them up and let me see.”

The man seemed to enjoy the fear he inspired. Then he spotted Jiang Dahai and his son, frozen still at the doorway. His expression darkened. Pointing at them with a sharp gaze, he barked harshly. His narrow eyes were full of cruelty.

Jiang Dahai was completely innocent. He hadn’t even noticed what had happened. He’d just been trying to push his way out through the crowd, only to find everyone in front of him had suddenly run off. Just as he was wondering what was going on, he ran straight into trouble.

Scratching his head in confusion, Jiang Dahai adjusted his son on his shoulders and looked honestly at the man pointing at him. “Are… you talking to me, sir?”

He was uneasy, clutching his bundle tightly, and looked at the group in front of him with wary eyes.

“Brother Niu, look at all the bags this guy’s carrying—he’s probably a black market dealer. People like that are parasites of socialism. We should arrest him and question him thoroughly,” said the same man who had just denounced his kin, sidling up to Niu Kun with a sneer.

Niu Kun was the small-time leader of the group.

“You bastard!” Lu Jianxun’s eyes were bloodshot as he glared at the son he barely recognized. Clutching his chest, lips bloodied from biting down too hard, he muttered bitterly, “That man had nothing to do with you, yet you pour filth on him like this… If I’d known you’d grow up to be such a scourge, I’d have strangled you at birth.”

It was his fault—he’d raised such a son. Not only had he destroyed the family’s legacy, but now even innocent strangers were getting hurt.

“You’re one of the ‘Five Black Categories’—I cut ties with you a long time ago,” Lu Xiangguang snapped back, glaring at him. Then he turned to Niu Kun with a sycophantic smile. “Brother Niu, you know I’m loyal to the Party.”

With that, he hardened his heart, grabbed a wooden leg torn from a chair, and swung it down at the old man lying on the ground.

Thud! The stick landed not on Lu Jianxun, but on the back of a woman who had thrown herself on top of him at the last second, taking the blow for him.

“This is my sin—my fault for raising him this way!” the woman sobbed, trembling through the pain as she clung to her husband. The old couple held each other, crying silently.

Lu Xiangguang, seeing Niu Kun watching like he was enjoying a show, gritted his teeth and continued striking, again and again. The old man and woman took turns shielding each other, enduring over a dozen blows in silence. Their disheveled white hair, blank eyes, and pitiful forms painted a heartbreaking picture.

Niu Kun glanced sideways at him, full of disdain for the groveling behavior, but also felt a twisted sense of pride. These so-called intellectuals, who once looked down on everyone, were now bowing and scraping like dogs.

Betraying your own father—he didn’t respect that one bit. But it served his interests. Today, he’d destroyed so many “reactionary books,” the higher-ups were sure to give him credit.

He glanced at the country folk still standing at the gate. He had no real interest in persecuting such nobodies—except this guy had the bad luck to stumble into his path.

“You there—open his bags! I suspect he’s a spy carrying classified Party documents,” Niu Kun barked, pointing lazily at a few teenage boys in Red Guard armbands, their faces still youthful and green.

The boys, who had been smashing and looting around the courtyard, stopped and turned, eyes burning with fervor. None of them thought to question how a simple farmer could be a spy—they simply charged at Jiang Dahai, expressions fierce.

By now, if Jiang Dahai still didn’t understand what was going on, he may as well be dead. But he was just an ordinary farmer. He’d never even argued with anyone in his village before—how could he possibly defend himself against such twisted accusations?

All he could do was take a few steps back, clutching his son tightly to his chest. If anything happened, he’d protect the child first.

“The Chairman said that without investigation, there’s no right to speak! On what basis do you accuse my dad of being a spy?” Suddenly, Jiang Yiliu popped his head out from his father’s embrace and shouted at Niu Kun.

“We’ve been poor farmers for three generations! My grandfather fought the Japanese and lost a leg in the war—he was a proud member of the Liberation Army! And you dare slander us, true sons of the revolution? You must be the real spy, trying to sow discord among the people and disrupt the rear lines!”

The young Red Guards froze, glancing uncertainly at Niu Kun. Jiang Dahai looked every bit the honest, hardworking peasant, and the child in his arms was pale and adorable—neither looked anything like a spy.

The boys, caught up in their revolutionary fervor, began to hesitate. They didn’t know who to believe anymore.

Jiang Yiliu saw the hesitation and understood. These kids were probably from the local middle school—at that age, full of passion but easily misled. They had no idea what they were truly doing.

“What are you looking at him for? That little brat is just slick-tongued! And you’re believing him?” Niu Kun shouted angrily. “Hurry up and grab them—check what’s in the bags!”

He was livid. Ever since he’d started commanding this group of hot-headed teenagers, things had been easy. They never questioned him—until now. Who would’ve thought his undoing would come from a four-year-old?

“Wait—what’s that on his back?”

One of the boys pointed at Niu Kun’s back, eyes wide in shock.

Niu Kun was baffled. He reached behind him, trying to see what they meant.

“He’s trying to destroy evidence!” The same boy rushed forward and yanked something off his back—a sticker with the American flag printed on it.

“Niu Kun is an American spy! He’s the real reactionary! Down with counter-revolutionaries!” The Red Guard boy raised his fists and shouted, face flushed with outrage.

With that irrefutable evidence, the entire group turned on Niu Kun. They swarmed him, each desperate to prove their loyalty by being the first to strike.

Pinned to the ground, Niu Kun tried to speak, but fists rained down, knocking the breath out of him. He curled up like a shrimp, unable to get a single word out.

Seizing the chaos, Jiang Dahai scooped up his son and fled.

Peeking over his father’s shoulder, Jiang Yiliu looked back at the elderly couple clinging to each other on the ground and at the man now being beaten by the mob. For the first time, he didn’t feel ashamed for having done something “bad.”

He had planted that American flag sticker on Niu Kun. He knew what would happen the moment he did it. But he had no regrets. If Niu Kun hadn’t been taken down, it would’ve been his father instead.

And maybe… maybe with one less Niu Kun in the world, there would be fewer tragedies like what happened to Mr. Lu.

For the first time, Jiang Yiliu clearly understood just how terrifying this era was. And if he wanted to survive in it… he might have to give up a few things.