The man kept wondering what those things hanging in orderly fashion from the trees were.

The driver put a coat on him. He took the umbrella from the driver’s hands and slowly walked toward those round objects swaying in the wind.

The driver didn’t dare speak out of turn and followed behind him through the snow.

The man turned back to look at him. “Just wait for me here.”

So he walked over alone.

The wind and snow were too heavy for him to see clearly ahead. A cold, sinister air struck him, making him shiver involuntarily as he pulled his coat tighter.

The driver stood under the checkpoint’s shelter, accepting a cigarette from the squad leader. “Didn’t the general’s son die for the country?”

The driver squinted at the distance. “That was Fujita Kyuji. This is the second son, Fujita Kiyono.”

“Never heard the general had a second son.”

“He does theater, was always in England, just came back recently.”

“Is he meant to replace his older brother?”

“All the Fujita men are military.”

The squad leader also looked north. “What’s he going over there for?”

The driver flicked his cigarette. “He kept asking what those heads were. Hothouse flower, doesn’t understand anything.”

The squad leader laughed. “Won’t he piss himself? Hahaha.”

Fujita Kiyono stood frozen in place. Only when he got close did he recognize these skulls. He kept backing away, not daring to look further. When he turned to run, he tripped over something hard. The umbrella fell to the ground and was blown two meters away by the wind, his coat also falling off.

He knew war was cruel, death inevitable. In the Battle of Shanghai alone, the Japanese army had lost over sixty thousand, while the Chinese army suffered three hundred thousand casualties.

He looked at the hand exposed on the ground, covered with white snow, his lips trembling.

Seeing him collapsed on the ground, the driver and squad leader hurried over to help him up.

Fujita Kiyono grasped the squad leader’s shoulder. “Why hang these skulls from trees?”

“Sir, these are Chinese soldiers who resisted stubbornly.”

“You shouldn’t humiliate them like this. Take them down!”

“Yes.” The squad leader sneered inwardly but had to comply.

Throughout the journey, Fujita Kiyono remained absent-minded. The car stopped in front of an enormous European-style villa.

The driver brushed the snow from his clothes and rang the doorbell.

Fujita Takeo was on the phone. Fujita Kiyono waited outside for a long time until the voice inside stopped before knocking and entering, bowing respectfully. “Father.”

“Ah haha, Kiyono.” Fujita Takeo instantly transformed from stern general to kind-faced father, stepping forward to embrace him and pat his back. “You’ve finally come. Two years without seeing you – you’ve gotten thinner.” He released his son, seeing his troubled expression. “Why do you look unwell? Did something happen on the road?”

“I saw many Chinese heads hanging from trees outside the city.”

Fujita Takeo smiled and let go of him. “Just some small amusements of the soldiers. Don’t take it to heart.”

“But—”

“How are Michi and your mother lately?”

Fujita Kiyono lowered his eyes. “They’re well, and miss you very much.”

“I haven’t been back in a long time either.”

“Father, the corpses outside the city.”

Fujita Takeo’s face turned cold. “Don’t speak of it anymore.”

The telephone rang.

Fujita Takeo sat at his desk, looking at him with displeasure. “I still have matters to attend to. It’s getting late – go upstairs and rest first. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

A servant led Fujita Kiyono to his room and unpacked his luggage.

Fujita Kiyono walked to the window, looking at the ruins outside. The image of those heads kept appearing in his mind. He abruptly drew the curtains.

…

The next day, after breakfast, Fujita Kiyono took a walk through the streets. Heavy snow had buried some corpses, but human forms were still discernible. He walked dazedly through the roads, seeing many elderly, women, and even children.

“Why are there so many civilian corpses?”

The driver following him answered: “Some were hit by stray bullets, some were anti-Japanese elements. Our soldiers work hard – they even have to clean up the bodies.”

He had always heard Nanjing was prosperous with beautiful scenery, but now it was half ruins. Fujita Kiyono felt regret for the destroyed buildings and sorrow for the innocent dead, unable to bear looking further. “Where have all the people gone?”

“Some left the city, some are in the safety zone – an international safety zone run by several foreigners, sheltering over a hundred thousand Chinese. But many soldiers have shed their uniforms and hidden inside, still posing a great threat to us.”

Ahead there was a group of people making noise about something. Fujita Kiyono wanted to greet the soldiers, but as he approached, he saw a soldier thrust his bayonet into an old woman’s belly.

Fujita Kiyono was terrified, instinctively stepping back and grasping the driver’s shoulder. Coming to his senses, somewhat angry, he stepped forward to question: “What are you doing! Is this woman also a Chinese soldier?”

Several Japanese soldiers looked at him and burst into laughter. One poked him with a rifle butt. “Yes.”

The driver pushed the soldier away and scolded angrily: “This is Lieutenant Colonel Fujita.”

The Japanese soldiers immediately became serious, standing straight and saluting.

Fujita Kiyono followed the old woman’s corpse with his eyes toward the end of the road, which was covered with bodies – almost all the women were naked.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “What have you all done?”

…

Fujita Kiyono returned to his residence in a state of despair. He didn’t dare go out. He found it incredible and even felt guilty for his countrymen.

Shortly after sitting down, Fujita Takeo sent someone to bring him to a dance hall converted into an office building. Downstairs was bustling with people coming and going; upstairs was unusually quiet. After Fujita Takeo finished his business, he took him out for a walk.

About twenty men were bound with their hands behind their backs. Four wore Chinese military jackets. They were tied in two rows of ten each, escorted forward by two Japanese soldiers. All hung their heads with no expression, about to be taken to trenches outside the city for execution.

“Father, why don’t they resist?”

“Chinese are like this – weak, incompetent, like lambs waiting for slaughter, soulless shells. We fought in Shanghai for three months thinking they were formidable opponents. Hmph.” Fujita Takeo looked disdainfully at the departing men. “Truly an unbelievable people. Look at those dejected men – if they were willing to struggle even a little, our two soldiers would be no match for so many. But those with spirit have all been eliminated by the Great Japanese Imperial Army.”

“Where are they being taken?”

“What do you think?”

Fujita Kiyono frowned. “They’ve already surrendered. We should treat prisoners well.”

“Treat them well?” Fujita Takeo patted his shoulder. “You’re too kind.”

“You shouldn’t indulge our soldiers in burning, killing, and looting. They’re murdering people, raping women. This is immoral, this is the degradation of humanity! We are a civilized—” Before he could finish, Fujita Kiyono felt his face burning.

Fujita Takeo slapped him hard, not directly answering his question. “Have you had a girlfriend in the past two years abroad?”

Fujita Kiyono gritted his teeth. “No.”

“You haven’t touched a woman yet, have you?”

“Father?”

“I can arrange that for you.” Fujita Takeo clasped his hands behind his back, looking into the distance, sighing lightly with a meaningful smile. “There are some women in Nanjing, very beautiful ones.”

Fujita Kiyono looked at his father in disbelief. He seemed like a completely different person – strange, frightening, unthinkable. “Father, I’m honored that our soldiers conquered this land, but we shouldn’t massacre innocents and humiliate civilians like this. This violates morality and military—”

Fujita Takeo slapped him again. This time he was truly angry, his face darkening. “I never want to hear such words again. Your brother would never be as weak as you! To use a term from here, this is ‘womanly compassion’!” Fujita Takeo snorted angrily and walked away.

Fujita Kiyono stood for a long time, feeling genuinely sorrowful.

If even the commanders were like this, how could the soldiers be restrained?

…

In the afternoon, Fujita Takeo really did send him a Chinese woman. She looked no more than sixteen or seventeen, with short-cropped hair, stuffed into a kimono completely mismatched to her build, with a flower pinned in her hair.

When Fujita Kiyono tried to help her up, the girl cried and shrank back.

His Chinese wasn’t very good, but he told her word by word that he wouldn’t hurt her.

But the girl was too frightened, crying even harder, curled into a ball, trembling constantly.

Fujita Kiyono retreated to another corner of the room, staying far from her. After a long while, he offered her an apple.

The girl didn’t dare take it.

Fujita Kiyono crouched on the ground, smiling at her as he pressed the apple into her hands.

The girl tremblingly accepted it, holding it to her chest without daring to eat.

That evening, when Fujita Takeo returned to the villa, he found Fujita Kiyono sitting in his room reading. The girl in the corner was fully clothed, and immediately hid behind a cabinet when she saw him.

Fujita Kiyono put down his book and stood up. “Father.”

“You didn’t touch her?”

“No.”

Fujita Takeo clasped his hands behind his back, looking at him disappointedly before turning to leave. Soon, a soldier entered and dragged the girl out amid her agonized screams.

“What are you doing?” Fujita Kiyono chased after them. “Stop.”

The soldier pushed her to an open area, drew his sword, and slashed across.

Fujita Kiyono stared blankly at the woman lying in a pool of blood. “Are you insane!”

…

In previous years, New Year’s Day in Nanjing was incredibly lively. This year, even the air was deathly quiet.

The hospital distributed a piece of bread to each doctor and nurse – a small New Year’s surprise.

The happiness didn’t last long. Japanese soldiers came again.

They no longer used catching Chinese plainclothes soldiers as an excuse, entering and leaving at will.

Four nurses had their bread stolen.

They really should have eaten it immediately.

Xie Chi was changing bandages for a patient when a Japanese soldier passed behind her, about to slap her bottom. Xie Chi dodged and left carrying her tray.

The Japanese soldier followed her, suddenly grabbing her arm and getting in front of her, yanking off her mask. His eyes widened, mouth forming a circle as he exclaimed in amazement, then immediately called to others: “Come look at this.”

Xie Chi shook him off and walked quickly forward, gripping scissors from her tray.

Just as the Japanese soldier was about to grab her, a doctor rushed over, putting his arm around her shoulders and blocking them.

Seeing he was a foreigner, the Japanese soldiers didn’t dare force the issue.

“This is my wife. Please leave.”

With her mask torn off, Xie Chi turned her face away and hid in the doctor’s embrace.

Several Japanese soldiers laughed as they looked her over. Their leader said, “We’ll come back next time.”

…

Fujita Kiyono had caught a cold and stayed shut in his room.

That evening, Fujita Takeo called him for dinner, but he said he had no appetite. Fujita Takeo came directly to his door and actually showed weakness: “Kiyono, father was impulsive. Please forgive me.”

Fujita Kiyono immediately stood and bowed to his father. Fujita Takeo put his arm around his shoulders. “Come eat.”

A servant poured them sake.

“Have a drink with me.” Fujita Takeo personally poured for him. Fujita Kiyono quickly stopped him. “Let me.”

He raised his cup and drained it.

Fujita Takeo smiled. “Eat more.”

After several cups, Fujita Kiyono swayed his head, feeling somewhat drunk.

“You still remember your brother, don’t you?”

Fujita Kiyono held his forehead and nodded.

“A man should be like your brother – spirited and bold. I put all my energy into Kyuji and neglected disciplining you, causing you to develop this indecisive character. You’re hardly like a man.”

Fujita Kiyono felt his heart beating uncontrollably, like fire circling his abdomen. His mind was confused; he didn’t hear a word his father said.

“You’re too cowardly to even touch a woman.” Fujita Takeo set down his cup heavily. “Nothing like a son raised by the Fujita family. Even your sister has a stronger character than you. You’re twenty-three years old, an adult, yet still like an ignorant child.”

Fujita Kiyono held the table as he stood. “Sorry father, I don’t feel well. I need to return to my room first. You—” He leaned on the table, sweating profusely. “What’s wrong with me?”

“To conquer this land, start by conquering the women of this land.” Fujita Takeo poured another cup without looking at him. “You’ll thank me.”

He waved his hand, signaling the servant to help him upstairs.

Fujita Kiyono panted heavily, his body burning hot, wanting to jump into the snow outside. As soon as he entered the room, the door was locked from outside. He vaguely saw a woman lying on the bed with her hands and feet bound.

He immediately understood, turning back to pound on the door. “Open up, let me out!”

…

Collapse, shame, degradation.

Fujita Kiyono picked up a sweater from the floor, not even having time to put on his coat, and rushed out carrying a bottle of alcohol.

He staggered through the streets.

Dark with no lights, fortunately the snow on the ground reflected moonlight, keeping the world from complete darkness.

He fell twice and stumbled back up.

He threw away the bottle and ran around aimlessly. Seeing a naked woman’s corpse by the roadside with her belly cut open, intestines spilling out.

He crawled to the wall and vomited violently.

Frantically he pounded and kicked the wall, venting his helpless rage.

Why did they bring him back? Why join the military? Why humiliate him?

The crumbling wall collapsed with a crash, burying him in the pile of bricks.

…

At noon, a rescue vehicle brought back two patients.

One was a girl around ten years old – Japanese soldiers had cut open her lower body and raped her. The other was Fujita Kiyono, who had been knocked unconscious under rubble. He wore only a thin sweater on his upper body and was nearly frozen when found.

Xie Chi used alcohol to disinfect the wound on his forehead. Fujita Kiyono regained consciousness and instinctively raised his hand, using all his strength to push her away.

Unprepared, Xie Chi crashed into a nearby cabinet, her wrist cut by a sharp table edge, leaving a bloody mark.

Fujita Kiyono clutched his blanket, staring at her with wide, alert eyes.

Xie Chi shook her hand and approached again. “Don’t be afraid.”

Fujita Kiyono looked at the surrounding equipment – it was a hospital, with Chinese voices constantly around.

Xie Chi bent down to continue treating his wound. “This is Drum Tower Hospital. You’re safe.”

Fujita Kiyono let her disinfect and apply medicine.

He trembled slightly, looking up at her. This was a Chinese nurse.

Her movements were gentle, skillfully bandaging his wound.

“Turn to the side.”

Fujita Kiyono didn’t move.

She looked at him calmly. “Turn around, there’s a wound on your neck.”

He quickly turned his face away as sharp pain came from his neck.

She wore gloves but he could still feel the coolness of her fingertips occasionally brushing his skin.

What was happening?

If they discovered he was Japanese, they would tear him apart, wouldn’t they?

Xie Chi finished treating his scrapes, picked up a pen to record. “What’s your name?”

Fujita Kiyono didn’t dare speak. His poor Chinese would immediately give him away.

Xie Chi tilted her head slightly, studying his expression. “Can’t you speak?”

Fujita Kiyono lowered his head.

“Where are you from?”

He bowed his head even lower.

Seeing his delicate features and timid manner – neither like a soldier nor a spy – Xie Chi didn’t think much of it, assuming he was frightened into silence. Without saying more, she hung the chart on the bed, tucked in the blanket by his feet. “Some surface wounds, minor fracture in the arm, no surgery needed. Head trauma from impact – the doctor says nothing serious, just needs rest.”

She looked at his vacant stare and waved her hand. “Can you hear me talking?”

He nodded.

“Rest then. Call a nurse if you need anything.”

After she left, Fujita Kiyono slowly raised his face, surveying the surrounding patients with all kinds of terrible conditions. He covered his head with the blanket, feeling deeply ashamed, wrapping himself completely.

…

Night fell, and this city was once again shrouded in darkness, only the hospital lights remaining on.

Fujita Kiyono’s hand was suspended in bandages. It didn’t hurt much, but every moment lying here was unbearable torment. He wanted to leave.

No one stopped him along the way – everyone was busy and tired.

He fumbled his way to the hospital entrance and saw a nurse leaning against a pillar. He immediately recognized her silhouette.

Xie Chi was eating bread – dry, hard bread that was difficult to swallow, but she had to force it down. Without eating she’d go hungry, and hungry she’d have no strength to work.

She chewed with difficulty, feeling her jaw muscles weak, her teeth aching from the effort.

She ate while spacing out, reaching for the cup beside her, accidentally sticking her finger into the hot water.

She lifted her hand and quickly blew on it twice, only then noticing the person behind her.

Fujita Kiyono stood to her right watching her. Xie Chi glanced at him once, said nothing, and turned back to continue eating her bread and spacing out.

He saw the bandage wrapped around her wrist – injured from his violent push. He stepped forward two paces, wanting to apologize but unable to speak.

He stood there awkwardly for a while, then quietly sat about a meter away from her, somewhat at a loss.

Xie Chi glanced at him. “Aren’t you cold?”

Fujita Kiyono shook his head and pointed at her wrist.

Xie Chi thought he wanted food and broke off more than half her bread for him. Fujita Kiyono waved his hands repeatedly.

Xie Chi held the bread out. “Eat it.”

He pinched the bread’s edge and accepted it.

Xie Chi forced down the remaining small piece, lifted her cup, blew on it, and took a small sip.

Fujita Kiyono studied her profile. She looked so cold, unapproachable. Especially those eyes, full of numbness and indifference.

She lowered her eyes, lost in thought.

Xie Chi noticed his gaze. “Is something wrong?”

When their eyes met, he immediately looked away and bit into the half piece of bread.

It really was… hard.