Immortal Child and Corpse Against the Current
My real name is Liu Tianliang. Mother said I was born just before dawn, so Father named me Tianliang. When I first entered the hall, everyone called me “Sha Liang.” Later, Zu Ye said, “Once you’ve entered the hall, you’re family. Don’t call him Sha Liang anymore.” Er Batou asked, “Then what should we call him?” Zu Ye looked at me with a smile and said, “His head’s so big, just call him Da Tou.” From then on, everyone called me Da Tou. Er Batou often said to me, “Your head’s pretty big, but it’s just full of mush.”
Zu Ye would sometimes ask me, “Da Tou, do you regret following me?”
Actually, over the years, I’ve thought about this question over and over again—do I regret it or not? Zu Ye clearly knew I wasn’t cut out to be an A’Bao, yet he let me join the hall…
I was originally a waiter at a teahouse. If Zu Ye hadn’t frequented the place for tea, I would never have met him. I always reserved his table for him, and I’d wipe the table and chairs spotless before he arrived. When he dropped his fan, I’d pick it up for him. When he lost a copper coin, I’d chase after him to return it. Over time, Zu Ye stopped treating me like an outsider. Every time he came, he’d call out loudly, “Sha Liang, brew me a pot of Dragon Well tea!”
I’d respond happily, “Coming!”
I was fat and looked rather foolish, so everyone at the teahouse called me “Sha Liang.” But whether I was actually foolish or not, I knew in my heart. For a common person like me in those chaotic times of war and disorder, acting a bit foolish wasn’t a bad thing.
Once, while drinking tea, Zu Ye asked me, “Sha Liang, who do you have at home?”
I said, “Master, I only had a mother who passed away from illness earlier this year, and a younger sister who married far away. I’m the only bachelor left at home.”
Zu Ye asked again, “So how much money can you make here in a year?”
I smiled and said, “Master, I don’t have any real skills, I can only run errands. Our shopkeeper is generous—as long as he gives me food to eat, I’m satisfied. How would I dare ask for money?”
Zu Ye was silent for a moment, then said, “After closing time, come find me at this address. I have something to tell you.” He then left me a slip of paper with his address on it. I was fortunate to have attended a private school for a few days, otherwise I wouldn’t even be able to read.
After the teahouse closed, I took the slip of paper and went to Zu Ye’s place. My heart was pounding the whole way. I didn’t know what this master wanted with me, but my instinct told me it probably wasn’t a bad thing.
After turning several corners, I finally arrived at Zu Ye’s residence—a very large estate. The main gate faced south. After entering, there was a large jujube tree, with a large water vat in the middle of the passageway. There were side rooms on both the east and west, and further in was the main hall. Upon entering the main hall, there was a hall shrine with a hanging scroll in the center—an imitation Song Dynasty ink painting of an immortal. On either side was a couplet. The upper line read: “The benevolent heart does benevolent and righteous deeds.” The lower line read: “Preserve harmony, preserve goodness, preserve great peace.” I later learned that Zu Ye had written this couplet himself.
When I arrived at Zu Ye’s place, he was holding a meeting with a group of people—about six or seven of them. I had just arrived when the meeting ended. After the butler led me inside, Zu Ye waved his hand and all those people left.
Zu Ye invited me into his study and said, “Sha Liang, sit down. Let me chat with you.” He then ordered his servants to bring tea.
I was just a waiter—normally others sat while I stood, others drank while I watched. When he told me to sit, I didn’t even know where to put my rear end.
Zu Ye could see I was very nervous and said with a smile, “Don’t be so stiff, don’t be so stiff. Sit down, sit down.”
I sat down trembling. After a short while, a female servant in her fifties brought a pot of tea and poured two cups. She handed one cup to Zu Ye and said, “Master, please.” Then she handed me a cup. I quickly stood up and nervously accepted the teacup. Zu Ye laughed, “Sit down, sit down. Today you’re my guest.”
I felt the muscles in my face tighten as I smiled and said, “Thank you, Master, thank you, Master.” I took a sip—barely avoided scalding myself to death. This made Zu Ye and the old woman chuckle.
Zu Ye said to the servant, “You may go.” The old woman glanced at me and left.
Only Zu Ye and I remained in the room. I turned the teacup in my hands, not knowing what to say.
Zu Ye took a sip of tea and said, “Sha Liang, do you plan to be a waiter for the rest of your life?”
I said, “Master, I don’t have any other skills. I can only run errands. Being able to earn a meal is already good enough.”
Zu Ye said, “You keep calling me master, master—haven’t you ever thought about becoming a master yourself?”
When I heard this, I nearly dropped my teacup. I hastily said, “Master, what kind of talk is that! I was born to serve people like you, Master. My fate is lowly—how could I have your kind of fortune!”
Zu Ye’s face darkened. “Spineless creature!”
I froze. This wasn’t about having spine or not—who wouldn’t want to be a master and have people serve them? But you need to have the ability for that! I lowered my head and said nothing.
Zu Ye sighed and said, “Sha Liang, do you know? I used to be worse off than you.”
“Huh?” I raised my head, not understanding what he meant.
Zu Ye said, “Come with me.”
Zu Ye stood up and I followed behind him. I followed him out of the main hall and into the west wing. As soon as I entered, I got a fright—inside were memorial tablets for the dead. I looked carefully and saw “Deceased Father,” “Deceased Mother,” as well as eldest brother, younger sister, younger brother. I was confused and stared blankly at Zu Ye.
Zu Ye lit a stick of incense, inserted it into the incense burner, and told me about those old events.
Zu Ye’s ancestors had been members of the Tiandihui and participated in the Taiping Army in the late Qing Dynasty. By his father’s generation, their days were fairly comfortable. After the Xinhai Revolution, his father even held an important position in the Nationalist government. Later, he participated in the “Constitutional Protection Movement.” As a result, because he firmly supported Sun Yat-sen’s advocacy of armed constitutional protection, he was assassinated by Guangxi warlords in the army. To eliminate the roots, several executioners also broke into Zu Ye’s home at night and killed the entire family.
Zu Ye’s grandfather and grandmother were stabbed to death before they could even make a sound. His mother and older brother fought desperately with those killers. Mother’s belly was stabbed numerous times, her intestines spilling out. She crawled on the ground, clutching the killer’s legs tightly, and shouted to Zu Ye, “Quickly, take your brother and sister and run!” Zu Ye fled in panic with his younger brother and sister, running dozens of miles overnight before stopping. Afterward, Zu Ye held his younger siblings in his arms, and all three cried bitterly.
That year, Zu Ye was 15, his younger brother was 10, his younger sister was 8, and his deceased older brother was 18. From then on, the three surviving siblings became homeless, begging for survival.
One day, the three were begging on the street when several men approached them. One man wearing dark glasses handed them a few flatbreads, then said, “Kid, I have some odd jobs. Help me out, and I’ll pay you when you’re done.”
Zu Ye looked at them, then at his hungry siblings, and said, “What kind of work?”
The man said, “Just washing dishes and wiping tables. Not tiring.”
Zu Ye thought for a moment and said, “Alright. Where?”
The man said, “Very close. Follow me.”
At this point in the story, Zu Ye’s eyes reddened. He let out a long sigh and said to me, “If… if I could live that moment over again, I’d rather have let my brother and little sister starve to death than take them to that place.”
Those men led Zu Ye and his siblings through twists and turns to a deserted, dilapidated house. As soon as they entered, all three had handkerchiefs pressed over their noses, and then they knew nothing more.
It turned out those men were all local A’Baos. To set up a scheme, they didn’t hesitate to create a massacre that destroyed all humanity. That year, there was a severe drought in the area, and the crops were nearly dead from dryness. The A’Baos spread rumors that this was divine retribution for the local people not doing good deeds. They said there would soon be “immortal children appearing in dreams,” that everyone should pay attention while sleeping, and that the “Two Immortals of Harmony and Union” would choose a date to reveal their physical forms in the river, performing “corpses against the current” to warn the world.
After the A’Baos spread these rumors, they began looking for scapegoats. They didn’t dare easily touch children from normal families, but they happened to encounter three begging children. These street children could be killed without anyone looking for them, so they used knockout drugs to render all three siblings unconscious. Because Zu Ye’s younger brother and sister were close in age and similar in height, they strangled them both to death, dressed them in matching red and green clothes to make them look like the “Two Immortals of Harmony and Union,” tied bamboo rafts to the backs of the corpses, and soaked them in the water. A long rope was attached beneath the rafts, extending all the way upstream. The next day at noon, two A’Baos slowly pulled the rope from upstream while other A’Baos made a commotion by the river, attracting many onlookers.
Because the river was quite wide and the distance was far, no one could see the trick clearly. Thus, the two corpses of a boy and girl drifted against the current. The A’Baos shouted loudly, “Corpses against the current! Corpses against the current!” Seeing that many people had gathered on the shore, they sent a few men into the river who secretly cut the rope with scissors and carried the two small corpses ashore.
The A’Baos said these two “immortal children” were incarnations of the “Two Immortals of Harmony and Union,” that they had repeatedly appeared in many people’s dreams, and now they were manifesting to teach by example—everyone must do more good deeds!
At this point, people deeply believed the A’Baos’ words. The A’Baos poured diesel oil on the two corpses and set them on fire. After burning them, they mixed the ashes with mud and molded them into two clay dolls, which they enshrined in a temple. From then on, local people flocked to burn incense and donate money to the “Two Immortals of Harmony and Union,” and this A’Bao gang made a fortune.
Because Zu Ye had grown too big, he was useless to them. After they drugged him, they strangled him with a rope for a while. The A’Baos thought they had strangled him to death, so they threw him on the back mountain to feed the wolves. But that night there was a torrential downpour, the wolf pack didn’t appear, and Zu Ye miraculously survived. He didn’t die.
When Zu Ye woke up, his younger siblings were gone, and he didn’t know where he was. In the pouring rain, he frantically shouted, “Little brother! Little sister!”