Li Changsheng’s condition wasn’t good. Xie Chi went out three times to get medicine, using almost all of it on him. He Feng had a stubborn mule temperament – regardless of how good or bad his body felt, he only had one response: “I’m fine.”

But Xie Chi knew he wasn’t fine at all. She had never seen He Feng sleep so much, sleeping day and night. She would check his breathing from time to time, afraid that one sleep would be his last.

The gray jacket was finished. Xie Chi carried it over to Li Changsheng. “Try it on.”

Li Changsheng took it. “Thank you, sister-in-law.”

With his severed hand and multiple bullet and knife wounds all over his body, he couldn’t even lift his arms. Xie Chi moved closer. “Let me help you change.”

Just as she was about to unbutton his clothes, Li Changsheng covered his collar and looked toward He Feng. “Big brother.”

He Feng opened his eyes to look at him. “What’s a grown man being bashful about? When applying medicine, everything that should be seen has been seen.”

Li Changsheng let go and quietly lowered his head.

Xie Chi quickly stripped off his military uniform. “He’s just like that with his mouth. Don’t mind him.”

Once the new clothes were changed, he looked completely different. Li Changsheng looked at himself. “Big brother, do I look like a scholar?”

“You do.”

Li Changsheng picked up his military uniform, carefully folded it and placed it to one side. “Thank you, sister-in-law.”

“Is it warm?”

“It’s warm.”

Xie Chi sat back beside He Feng and continued making one for him.

He Feng watched those slender hands moving back and forth, then suddenly leaned against her shoulder.

Xie Chi rubbed her head against his. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel quite happy. It wouldn’t be bad to die here.”

Xie Chi forcefully pushed his head away. This sudden jolt made He Feng dizzy for a long time. He leaned toward her again. “I was wrong, I won’t say it anymore.”

Seeing their intimate affection, Li Changsheng thought of Meng Yuan again. He sighed, turned his back to face the wall, and quietly grieved.

Xie Chi sewed rapidly. He Feng kept staring at the silver needle until his eyes hurt, so he simply closed them. “A’Zhi.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t go out anymore. How can I feel at ease with you always running outside?”

Xie Chi paused her needle, stroked his hand, and continued sewing. “Aren’t I perfectly fine?”

“People can’t always be that lucky.” His voice gradually weakened. “I’m sorry, I’ve dragged you down.”

“Then hurry up and get better.”

He Feng developed a fever. If it hadn’t been frighteningly hot, Xie Chi might not have known until he died. After using medicine twice, he improved slightly, but the next day the fever returned.

They were out of water too. They could go without food but not without water.

Xie Chi went to get a small bucket of water. Just as she came down, she heard footsteps upstairs.

She drew her knife and stood at the exit. He Feng leaned against the wall, his voice light and airy: “One man, one woman. Not devils.”

Xie Chi listened carefully and indeed heard a woman.

She opened the door and poked her head out to see two people crouched down looking around the shop.

“What are you doing?”

The woman was startled by the sudden voice and let out an “ah.”

Xie Chi immediately scolded: “Don’t shout.”

The woman covered her mouth. The two people walked toward her. “We’re refugees.”

“Go to the safety zone.”

The man said: “Everything’s bombed beyond recognition – we can’t find the way.”

The woman said: “We hid across the street for a day. We just saw you go out and come back in, so we thought maybe we could stay for a bit.”

“No.”

The woman directly knelt down to her. “Please, we haven’t eaten for two days. We’re about to starve to death, and we don’t dare wander around – there are Japanese soldiers everywhere.”

Xie Chi pulled her up. “I don’t have food here either.”

“Just let us stay. It’s really too cold outside.”

Seeing the woman crying, Xie Chi softened. Since dawn was approaching, it wouldn’t be good to make them leave now. “Don’t talk, be quiet.”

Both nodded repeatedly.

Xie Chi let them come down. When the woman saw two wounded soldiers there, she was stunned and hid behind the man.

“You two sit over there.” Xie Chi found a piece of cloth for them. “Wait until deep night before leaving.”

“Thank you.”

Xie Chi poured a cup of water and sat beside He Feng, giving him medicine to swallow, then took out half a biscuit for him. “Eat it.”

He Feng refused. “Don’t want to eat.”

“No, eat it.”

“It’s dry.”

Xie Chi felt his head – the fever was worse. “Does your throat hurt?”

He Feng shook his head.

Xie Chi brought a candle over and pried open his mouth. “Open wide, let me see.”

He Feng laughed and turned his face away. “What are you looking at?”

Xie Chi pulled him back. “Hurry up.”

He Feng helplessly opened his mouth. Xie Chi looked carefully. “And you said it doesn’t hurt.” She placed the candle on the table and took out another pill for him. “Take one more.”

He Feng obediently swallowed it.

The woman was about to ask something when the man pulled her back, not letting her speak out of turn. The woman silently leaned against him and said nothing more.

Xie Chi took the old military uniform to cover He Feng. “Are you cold?”

He Feng shook his head and pulled her into his arms. “Warm.”

Xie Chi hugged him. “Rest on my leg.”

He Feng refused, laughing lazily. “People are watching. It’s embarrassing.”

Xie Chi pressed him down to lie and tugged his ear. “It’s not embarrassing.” She buried her head down, pressing against his forehead. “Sleep. Maybe when you wake up the fever will be gone.”

“Mm.” He pillowed his head on her leg, grasped her hand, and closed his eyes.

A night passed, and He Feng’s high fever still wouldn’t break. The wound infection grew worse, and his old back injuries seemed to flare up too. He shivered in his sleep and occasionally let out soft groans.

Xie Chi took off her own cotton jacket to cover him, constantly dripping water into his parched, peeling mouth.

Japanese soldiers frequently passed by upstairs. The atrocities continued.

They captured many Chinese people to clean up corpses. Small carts loaded with bodies occasionally passed by on the street.

The medicine ran out again. In broad daylight, Xie Chi wanted to go to the hospital, but of course He Feng wouldn’t let her leave. But she insisted on going. He Feng felt unwell and couldn’t stop her despite struggling, so she ran off anyway.

Everywhere was short of medicine now, and the hospital couldn’t provide her with much. But there was no choice – this was her man. Even if she had to steal or rob, she would get the medicine. Fortunately, the doctor gave her some more.

The frightening thing was that they used all kinds of medicine, but nothing worked.

Deep at night, Xie Chi dozed for a while. When she woke up, she didn’t see He Feng, so she went upstairs to look. He was lying on the small bed on the second floor that had been damaged by bombing. In summer, they had been intimate on this very bed.

Xie Chi crouched by his head, her fingers lightly tracing his thick eyebrows. “Why did you come up here?”

“Wanted to look at the stars.”

Xie Chi glanced up. “Where are there any stars?”

He Feng pointed south. “Aren’t those them?”

Xie Chi saw nothing – just an overcast sky without a single star. She was silent for a moment, touching his stubble. “It’s too cold. Let’s go back down.”

“Want to be alone with you.”

Women are always emotional. Hearing him say such things, her heart softened completely. She lay down beside him, using their bodies to warm each other.

Xie Chi smoothed the hair on his forehead.

He Feng lightly blew toward his forehead. “My hairstyle’s messed up.”

“At a time like this, you’re still worried about hairstyle.”

“Am I handsome?”

“Very handsome.”

“I’ve been handsome since I was little.” He Feng smiled, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Xie Chi kissed from his forehead to his throat. He Feng let out a soft hum and pulled her up. “Alright, alright, come back.”

She lay back in his arms.

“I never asked you – are you a Communist?”

“Not entirely.”

“What do you mean not entirely?”

“Old Zhou asked me to join the party several times, but I didn’t. Yet I often acted according to their instructions.”

“Why?”

“I’m used to doing as I please. I don’t want invisible constraints, and I’m not someone who can absolutely obey organizational orders. I’m not qualified to join the party yet.”

“That’s good.” He Feng closed his eyes, his breathing much weaker. “What about that Old Zhou? Is he still around?”

“No longer. The day Nanjing fell, he strapped grenades to himself and charged into a group of devils.”

He Feng didn’t respond.

Xie Chi saw him with his eyes closed and shook his arm. “He Feng.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t sleep, talk with me.”

He Feng kept his eyes closed, slightly curving his lips. “Alright, let’s talk.”

Xie Chi looked at his sickly state, feeling very uncomfortable. She lay in his arms, facing the night sky, not looking at him.

“A’Zhi.”

“Mm.”

“Seven years ago I went back to the mountain stronghold once and saw the monument you erected for me.”

Xie Chi recalled that time – after disposing of several hundred corpses, she had erected a monument for him alone. In a moment of grief, she had written “Wife of He Feng.”

“It’s a pity I haven’t had time to arrange the eight-sedan-chair wedding I promised you.”

“I don’t care about those things.”

“I always said I’d marry you, but didn’t expect the devils to wreck our nest first. I really wanted to see you in wedding clothes – not those Western wedding dresses, but our Chinese ones, bright red wedding robes. How beautiful that would be.”

“Alright, I’ll listen to you.”

“All these years I often have the same dream. I dream about when we get married, all the four mountain peaks and nine small strongholds come to celebrate. Tables stretch down to the bottom of the mountain, wine spilled everywhere.”

Xie Chi curved her lips, listening to him speak. Inexplicably, scenes appeared vividly in her mind, so lifelike they seemed right before her eyes.

“Those rascals desperately pour wine down me, while you wait for me in the room. I get drunk and collapse into your arms. You lift the red veil and smile at me, saying you told me to drink less but I wouldn’t listen.” He Feng smiled, looking somewhat silly. “I look at your little face, made rosy by the wedding dress, your little mouth painted red too, like a ripe mountain peach, making people unable to resist wanting to kiss it. Every time I’m about to kiss you, I wake up.”

Xie Chi said nothing. She suddenly got up and went downstairs. He Feng tried to grab her, but his fingers slipped through hers. He raised himself up, pulling his wound, sweating from pain. “Where are you going?”

“Wait for me.”

He Feng frowned and actually coughed up blood. He quickly found something to cover it.

After a long while, Xie Chi came back with a piece of red cloth. Though somewhat dirty, it was still very bright.

She placed the red cloth over her head and bent down beside He Feng.

Xie Chi looked at his blue jacket under the veil and tugged at his sleeve. “Husband, what are you dazing about? Aren’t you going to lift it?”

He Feng raised his hand, pinched the corner of the red cloth, and pulled it down. He saw Xie Chi looking at him with a smile. He seemed to be in his dream – everything around him distorted and changed, becoming like it was in his youth.

“We’ve shared a bed, you’ve lifted the veil – for this lifetime I’m your person. In life we share the same quilt, in death the same coffin.”

He embraced her waist, said nothing, and closed his eyes again.

Xie Chi pried open his eyes. “Don’t sleep, I haven’t finished talking.”

He half-opened his eyes, looking at her indulgently. “I’m listening.”

“You said you really like children. Just like you said before, we’ll have a litter of little bandits – boys like you, girls like you too. We’ll buy a big mansion and let the children run around everywhere.”

“Good.” His breath was weak, his hand sliding down from her back.

“Hold me.” Xie Chi pulled his hand to hang around her waist. “Hold me.”

He Feng embraced her, kissed her neck, and said hoarsely: “I’m a bit sleepy, want to rest for a while.”

“No, don’t sleep.” She kissed his eyes. “I haven’t finished talking yet, I was just getting excited.”

“You talk, I’m listening.”

Xie Chi cupped his face. “I want to fall asleep with you every night and see you first thing every morning when I wake up. I like when you call me A’Zhi. You can say those crude things to me however you want. You said you’d take responsibility for me. You haven’t married me with eight sedan chairs yet. You even said eight wasn’t enough, you wanted eighty, to marry me back in grand style. I’ve been waiting. Seven years ago I wanted to marry you, I was just stubborn and wouldn’t admit it. Every time we practiced shooting and horseback riding together, I was very happy. Even when you bullied me, I was happy too. You said you’d take me to ride horses on the grasslands. You can’t lie to me.”

“I didn’t lie to you. In the next life we’ll still be Chinese. By then there definitely won’t be war. We’ll go listen to opera, take boat rides, climb mountains, ride horses on the grasslands.”

“I don’t want the next life, I want this life.” Xie Chi shook him forcefully. “Look at me.”

He Feng’s eyes were slits, only able to see the shadow before him.

He pressed her face against his chest. “Then this life it is.”

“If you die, I’ll strap on explosives and run into the Japanese camp.”

He said nothing.

Xie Chi looked at the broken walls before her, at the misty sky, listened to the gunfire in the distance, and suddenly felt boundless despair.

There was a cool touch on her face.

It was snowing.

She raised her hand to catch a snowflake. “He Feng, look, it’s snowing.”

“It’s snowing.”

“It’s snowing.”

No response.

“It’s snowing.”

She could no longer feel his heartbeat.

“Didn’t you always like to force me to say whether I love you or not?”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I do love you.”

Machine gun fire came from the distance. The devils were conducting a sweep. After tonight, there would be several more mountains of corpses.

“You can’t do this.” Xie Chi bit his hand. “You can’t all leave me one by one.”

“He Feng.”

Xie Chi took out her knife and pointed it at her chest. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see this gray world. Just as she was about to use force, her wrist was grabbed.

“Get some sleep, you’re too noisy.”

Xie Chi stared at him blankly, then suddenly hugged him and cried. “Stay with me a little longer, stay with me a little longer.”

“What are you crying for? No crying allowed.” He Feng stroked her head. “Have you ever seen me shed a single tear?”

Xie Chi shook her head.

“Chinese men can bleed but cannot shed tears. Women should be the same.”

Xie Chi wiped away her tears and smiled at him.

He Feng touched her face. “Even if I really die someday, you must avenge your man. If you come to me in such a pathetic state, I won’t recognize you.” He pinched her nose. “Did you hear?”

“I heard.”

“Bowing and scraping to these beasts would make our ancestors restless in their graves.” He Feng looked at the falling snowflakes. “Not to mention defending every inch of territory – with honor, with the devils being so insanely cruel, how can we feel at ease leaving our country and descendants to them? They occupy our mountains and rivers, kill our compatriots. Sooner or later we’ll make them pay blood for blood.”

“Good.”

“I want to eat those little wontons you took me to try, osmanthus cakes, and the rice balls sold on the street. Why was that rice so fragrant?”

“When the war ends, I’ll learn to make them and cook them for you every day.”

He Feng smiled weakly. “What I want to eat most is still the noodles you made. No one can make that flavor – even the broth was amazing.”

Xie Chi got up and tugged at him. “The snow’s getting heavy, let’s go down.”

“Alright.”

After He Feng fell asleep, Xie Chi secretly ran out. She knew the location of almost every noodle shop in Nanjing city. Even though the streets and alleys were bombed beyond recognition, she could still find her way.

Xie Chi searched four noodle shops and finally found some cut, dried, hard noodles in the ruins, though somewhat dirty. She carefully picked them up piece by piece and wrapped them in cloth to take back. Before she finished wrapping them, a Japanese soldier came out from a nearby camp, half-squinting as he went to the wall to urinate.

Xie Chi was separated from him by only a wall. She only had one knife. She didn’t want to cause trouble, didn’t want to add unnecessary danger. She just wanted to hurry back and cook noodles for He Feng.

She kept her head low, listening to the trickling sound as the foul smell quickly spread.

The Japanese soldier shook himself, tilted his face up and sighed “refreshing,” pulled up his pants and shivered back inside.

Xie Chi waited until she couldn’t hear any movement before carefully leaving.

The basement wasn’t well-ventilated, so she huddled at the counter in the qipao shop, cooked a few noodles, put them in a broken bowl and carried them back.

He Feng wasn’t in the basement, nor on the second floor. Even Li Changsheng was gone.

The woman happened to be awake. Xie Chi asked her: “Where are those two?”

“They left.”

“Where did they go?”

“Don’t know.” The woman stared at her bowl, eyes fixed on it. “The one in blue left first. When the one in gray woke up and found the other had left, he went out too. But the one in blue told you to take us to the safety zone and said you shouldn’t look for him.”

Xie Chi looked at where he had slept before. All the guns had been taken.

“What did you cook? It smells so good.”

Xie Chi put down the bowl.

“Can I eat it?”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m really going to eat it then.” The woman quickly came over to take the bowl and woke up her man. The two of them finished it in a few bites. “Are you still going to look for him?”

Xie Chi crouched by the wall, picked up the dagger He Feng had left behind, and slumped down disheartened. “No more searching.”

…

This snow covered the corpses by the roadside.

The man in the car wore a black kimono, eyes closed in meditation. His hair inherited from his mother had some natural curl, always kept half-long, tied with white cord into a short little braid. His skin was fair for a man, lips red as if wearing lipstick. His features were very defined with a mixed-blood quality, though the family had no foreign genes. He was the one among his siblings who least resembled his parents, and also the best-looking.

He looked like an artist and indeed was an artist.

In his youth, due to family connections, he was sent to the Army Officers’ School, graduating with excellent grades. He should have followed the plan to continue advanced studies at the Army University, but for the first time he defied his parents’ wishes, determinedly running off to England to study drama and direct, even founding the Seiwa Theater Company. But his freedom ended completely when his older brother died in battle. His father sent people to drag him back from England to Japan. Due to his past academic record and family connections, he was directly appointed lieutenant colonel by the Army Ministry.

He opened his eyes and looked out the car window. His eyelashes were sparse and short, set in deep double eyelids. He saw many heads hanging from trees in the distance, covered with snow, unclear what they were.

He pressed against the car window, his warm breath creating a layer of water vapor on the cold glass. “What are those?”

The driver didn’t answer, but smiled and said: “We’re almost there.”

The car stopped outside a Japanese military checkpoint. The driver got out and handed over a document. “This is General Fujita’s beloved son.”

Several Japanese soldiers immediately saluted toward the back seat.

The man opened the car door to get out. The driver quickly came over with a black umbrella to shield him from the snow.

“There’s still some distance to go. It’s cold outside, please get back in the car.”

The man pushed away his hand, took a light breath, and looked toward the city wall in the distance. “I want to walk and see this city.”

…