Black Gold 1983

Chapter 56

Renye didn't say anything more. Some things are better left unsaid; saying too much only makes them less interesting.

He walked to the stone table, unscrewed the remaining bottle of wine, poured out two jugs, and pushed one jug in front of Han Tianfang.

"Drink it."

Han Tianfang picked up the jar, but didn't drink from it. He stared at the murky liquid inside for a long time.

"Regarding that mining thing you mentioned," he put down the jar, "who else but you could have done it?"

Renye recounted the story of Ma Tiejun, Ma Xiaojun, Ma Maocai, and Ma Dehou. He described everything in detail, from the villagers of Shigou Village raising funds to invest, to Ma Dewang's attitude, and the villagers' reactions.

As Han Tianfang listened, the expression on his face slowly changed from gloomy to focused.

"Can the people of Shigou Village be trusted?"

"Ma Tiejun is trustworthy. Ma Xiaojun isn't tight-lipped, but he's not a bad person. Ma Maocai is a bit shrewd, as long as he doesn't harm anyone. Ma Dehou is an honest man." Renye paused, "As for the others in the village, it's hard to say right now. But if Ma Dewang agrees, there won't be much opposition in the village."

Han Tianfang nodded, picked up the jar of wine, and took a big gulp.

"Mining requires manpower. I can get a few people from the transport team; they are all trustworthy and hardworking."

Renye glanced at him: "Aren't you afraid Han Changhe will find out?"

"So what if he knows?" Han Tianfang's voice turned cold. "He can't stop me."

Renye knew he was telling the truth. Han Tianfang had worked in the transport team for many years and had several close brothers under him. These people might not know about Han Tianfang's family affairs, but they recognized Han Tianfang as a person.

"When do you plan to confront him?" Renye asked.

Han Tianfang didn't answer immediately. He stood up, walked to the courtyard gate, and looked out at the dark alley. In the distance came the static from the mine's loudspeaker, followed by a weather forecast; the female announcer's voice drifted in the night wind, barely audible.

"Wait for him to come back," Han Tianfang said. "I'll talk to him when he gets off work."

Are you alone?

Han Tianfang turned around and looked at Ren Ye.

"This is a family matter, and I shouldn't involve you."

Renye stood up, walked to his side, and looked at the dark alley outside.

"Your business is my business," he said. "I'll be here waiting."

Han Tianfang opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. He patted Ren Ye's shoulder, not with much force, but with great weight, as if trying to press something down.

The two of them stood at the gate of the courtyard, neither of them speaking, waiting for Han Changhe to come home from get off work.

A streetlamp in the alleyway lit up, swaying in the wind and casting long, short shadows of the two men. Renye leaned against the courtyard gate, lit the cigarette he had been holding for a while, and took a puff. Han Tianfang squatted on the threshold, clutching the enamel mug in his hand; the wine inside had gone cold, and he didn't drink any more.

Footsteps approached from afar, growing louder and slower. Renye recognized them; it was Han Changhe's footsteps. Having worked in the electromechanical department for so many years, he had developed a habit of walking with his right foot landing slightly harder than his left, making a soft, thumping sound on the ground that could be heard from halfway across the alley.

Han Tianfang understood too. He stood up, placed the enamel mug on the steps by the door, rubbed his hands on his trouser legs, and then let them hang down at his sides, clenching them into fists.

The footsteps grew closer. Han Changhe emerged from the shadows at the alley entrance, wearing a military green cotton-padded jacket, carrying a canvas tool bag, and his shoulders were covered in a fine layer of coal dust. He walked with his head down, only raising his head when he reached the courtyard gate. He paused for a moment when he saw Ren Ye, then frowned slightly when he saw Han Tianfang.

"Tianfang, what are you doing squatting by the door?" He put down his tool bag and took out his keys from his pocket.

Han Tianfang didn't move or say anything; he just stood there watching Han Changhe.

Han Changhe sensed something was wrong. He glanced at Han Tianfang's face, then at Ren Ye, his hand hovering over the lock on the courtyard gate, but he didn't insert it.

"What's wrong?"

"Dad," Han Tianfang's voice wasn't loud, but it was steady, "Come in first, I have something to tell you."

Han Changhe looked at Han Tianfang, a flicker of something passing through his small eyes. He didn't ask any questions, inserted the key into the lock, turned it, pushed open the door, and went inside. Ren Ye followed Han Tianfang into the courtyard.

There were no lights on in the courtyard, only the dim yellow light from inside the house, which spilled out of the windows and shone on the stone table and clothesline, casting shadowy images of the work clothes.

Han Changhe placed the tool bag at the door, turned around to look at Han Tianfang, and then looked at Ren Ye.

"Jinye is here too." His voice was a little tense. "What is it? Speak."

Han Tianfang didn't speak immediately. He stood in the middle of the courtyard, less than three steps away from Han Changhe, but Ren Ye felt that the distance between them was not three steps, but a river, a very deep and wide river.

"It's about my mother," Han Tianfang said.

The courtyard fell silent instantly. So quiet that you could hear the ticking of the old grandfather clock inside the house, one tick at a time, as if someone were counting something in the shadows.

Han Changhe's face was expressionless. That lack of expression was more unsettling than any other expression. He stared at Han Tianfang, his eyes unblinking, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"What's wrong with your mom?"

"How did she die?"

Han Changhe's hand trembled slightly. He put his hand behind his back, clenched something, then let go.

"Your mother died of illness." His voice was flat. "You know that."

"Really?" Han Tianfang took a step forward. "Then tell me, where did she die?"

"Hospital."

Which hospital?

Han Changhe did not answer.

"Did you take me there?" Han Tianfang's voice began to tremble. "Did you even let me see her? Where's her portrait? Where are her ashes? There's nothing. You just told me, 'Your mother is dead,' and that was it."

Han Changhe's face was as white as paper under the light.

"Tianfang—"

"She didn't die in the hospital," Han Tianfang interrupted him, his voice suddenly rising. "She died down in the mine, in that chamber. You took her down there, but you didn't bring her up."

Han Changhe took half a step back, his back slamming against the door frame of the courtyard gate with a dull thud.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" His voice was very low, so low that it sounded like he was talking to himself.

"I'm not lying." Han Tianfang's voice suddenly lowered again, so low that only the three people could hear it. "I went down. Before sealing the well, I went down. I saw her. She was leaning against the rock wall of the chamber, her hair was loose, and she was wearing your work clothes."

Han Changhe's face turned completely pale. He leaned against the door frame, his legs seemingly unable to support him, and slowly slid down until he squatted on the ground. He buried his face in his knees, his shoulders trembling, but he made no sound.

The courtyard was so quiet that you could hear the wind blowing in from the alley entrance, a mournful sound, like someone was crying.

Renye stood in the corner of the courtyard, stubbed out his cigarette, and remained silent. This was a matter between Han Tianfang and Han Changhe; he was merely a witness.

After a long while, Han Changhe raised his head. His face was covered in tears, snot and tears mixed together, making his face look like a smear. He didn't wipe it away, he just looked at Han Tianfang, his eyes filled with something Ren Ye had never seen before.

"When did you go downstairs?"

"The day before the well was sealed."

"Did you see her?"

"I saw it."

Han Changhe closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face and down the lines of his face.

"Is she... alright?"

Han Tianfang didn't answer the question, but instead asked, "Don't you know whether she's alright or not? You left her down the well for almost a month, and you haven't gone down to check on her? Don't you know whether she's alright or not?"

Han Changhe opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Have you gone down there?" Han Tianfang's voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth.

Han Changhe shook his head slowly, as if he were shaking something very heavy.

"During the days the well was sealed, it was no longer safe underground. The roof kept rattling, and rocks were falling down the tunnels. The safety supervisors were patrolling underground every day, and I—"

"You're afraid of being discovered," Han Tianfang said for him. "You're afraid of being found out that there's someone hiding down the well, afraid of being found out that you brought that person down, afraid of being found out who she is and what your relationship is. That's why you don't dare to go down. You'd rather she wait to die down there than take this risk."

Han Changhe did not deny it.

Renye stood in the corner, watching the usually domineering head of the electromechanical department squatting on the ground like an empty sack. He remembered what Ren Shouyi had said—Han Changhe had wronged many people in his life, but there were very few he could keep in his heart and dare not face.

Gu Guihua was the first.

"Where is she now?" Han Changhe looked up, his voice hoarse.

Han Tianfang looked at him but did not answer.

"Tianfang, you got her out, didn't you? Where is she now?"

Han Tianfang remained silent for a long time, so long that Ren Ye thought he wouldn't answer. Then he spoke, his voice not loud, but every word pierced Han Changhe's ears like nails.

"The back hill. I built a grave for her."

Han Changhe's body trembled violently, as if he had been struck by something.

Why didn't you tell me?

"Tell you?" Han Tianfang's voice suddenly rose. "Tell you what? To make you kowtow to her? To make you burn paper money for her? You're not worthy."

These three words were like three knives, cutting into Han Changhe's body, one cut at a time. He opened his mouth, unable to speak, and his tears flowed even more fiercely.

"Do you deserve it?" Han Tianfang's voice lowered, so low it was as if he were talking to himself. "You brought her out of Qinshui, from one mining area to another, from one temporary residence to another. Did you ever give her a home? Did you ever let her stay in a stable house for even a single day?"

Han Changhe squatted on the ground, buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders trembled violently.

"She said she wanted to go back to Qinshui, and you said you'd take her back after this busy period. She waited for so many years, even until she died, but she never saw that day." Han Tianfang's voice finally broke down, cracking like a shattered stone slab. "You're her man, shouldn't you protect her? Shouldn't you let her have a few good days?"

Han Changhe suddenly raised his head, his face as if something had torn it open. He looked at Han Tianfang, his lips trembling for a long time before finally uttering a sentence that stunned both Ren Ye and Han Tianfang.

"I am not her man."

Han Tianfang was stunned.

Renye was also stunned.

Han Changhe stood up from the ground, leaning against the door frame, his legs still trembling. He looked at Han Tianfang, his eyes bloodshot.

"You are not my son either."

The air in the courtyard seemed to have been sucked out. Han Tianfang stood there, motionless, like a stone statue.

"What did you say?"

"I said, you're not my son." Han Changhe's voice suddenly became calm, eerily calm. "You're her son with someone else. That person isn't me, nor is it Han Changgen. I don't know who it is; she's never told me."

The wind blew in from the gate, making the work clothes on the clothesline rustle like countless wings flapping.

"Then why did you marry her?" Han Tianfang's voice seemed to come from a very far place.

"Because she came to me." Han Changhe's voice lowered. "She said she had nowhere to go, and with you in tow, there was no way to survive. She said Han Changgen was dead, and you are a member of the Han family; I can't abandon you."

Han Tianfang's face was as white as paper.

"I married her not because I wanted her. It's because Han Changgen is my cousin, and I can't let his woman and child be left to fend for themselves."

Han Changhe paused for a moment, as if trying to save face, but the steps were too steep and he couldn't step on them.

"But your mother—" He didn't finish his sentence.

Han Tianfang spoke for him: "But you've never treated her like a wife. You married her for show. You locked her in the well because you were afraid of being seen. What you care about isn't her, but your own face."

Han Changhe remained silent.

Renye stood in the corner, watching the father and son—no, not father and son. He watched these two men, bound together by the same woman, one squatting, the other standing, like two trees entangled by the same vine, neither able to break free, neither able to live well.

Han Tianfang turned around, walked to the stone table, picked up the glass of wine that had gone cold, drank it all in one gulp, then slammed the enamel mug heavily on the table, and turned to look at Han Changhe.

"You're not my father." His voice was flat. "But you raised me for so many years. I remember that kindness. But you killed my mother, and I remember that too. Kindness is kindness, and debt is debt; they're two separate things."

Han Changhe opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"From today onwards, I will no longer call you Dad," Han Tianfang said. "My surname is Han because my mother's surname is Han. It has nothing to do with you."

After he finished speaking, he turned around, went into the house, and closed the door.

Only Han Changhe and Ren Ye remained in the courtyard.

Han Changhe leaned against the doorframe, as if all his strength had been drained away. He slowly squatted down beside the threshold, burying his face in his knees. There was no sound, but Renye saw his shoulders trembling, one tremor after another, like the pistons of a coal mining machine underground, unable to stop.

Renye stood there, staring at him for a long time, then walked over, took a cigarette out of his pocket, and offered it to him.

Han Changhe did not answer.

Renye placed the cigarette on the steps in front of him, then turned and left.