THE WHITE FILES: THE MANY
LIVES OF LU HERUO, TAIWANS
FIRST LITERARY TALENT

Chapter Fourteen: Villager Yu Lianfu Sympathizes with the Outsiders

53

Inside the living room of an old, brick-and-tile three-sided courtyard house, a dim yellow pendant lamp hung between the wooden rafters of the roof. Bundles of dried firewood and empty rice sacks were piled in a corner. The wooden window was half open, letting in the cool night air carried by the mountain breeze. A string of wind chimes hung from the window frame, producing soft, tinkling sounds in the stillness of the night. A kettle of water was heating on the charcoal stove. Its lid occasionally rattled as white steam curled upward, adding a touch of warmth and homely comfort to the room.

Beside the Eight Immortals table in the main hall, Yu Lianfu sat cross-legged on a bamboo chair, wearing an old undershirt and nothing on his feet. He was leisurely sipping Red Label rice wine. One hand held his wine cup while the other rested on the neck of the wine bottle. His eyes were slightly glazed. His face was flushed, and his breathing was somewhat heavy. He seemed a little drunk, yet his speech remained clear and composed.

His wife, Xu Laichun, sat on the floor with his elderly mother, Zhou Tian, and their son, Yu Wenyan. The three of them were gathered around a bamboo-woven tray, sorting through tea branches. The slanting lamplight fell across Laichuns slightly hunched back. Every so often, she brushed aside the strands of hair falling over her face, her hands moving with practiced efficiency.

Xu Laichun furrowed her brows and turned to ask, "I heard from Ah-Xi next door that you and Mao-tong went to the courtyard of the Vegetable Temple this afternoon to attend a meeting. Is that true?"

Yu Lianfu placed his wine cup on the edge of the table with a sharp clink. "Thats right. A group of capable people from outside came here to our village." As he spoke, his gaze drifted toward the outdoors, as though he were still reminiscing about the atmosphere of the afternoon gathering.

Xu Laichun reached out and swept the scattered tea branches into the tray before continuing her questions. "Where did these outsiders come from? Whats their background?"

Yu Lianfu raised one eyebrow and replied casually, "According to Chunqing, theres a university professor among them, along with several young master carpenters." As he spoke, he raised his cup to drink, but paused halfway and lowered it again, as though he had something more to add.

Xu Laichun looked up at him, a hint of wariness in her eyes. "What have these outsiders come to our village for?"

"They said they want to set up a collective farm here in our village." As he spoke, Yu Lianfu tapped the tabletop with his fingertip.

"A collective farm? Whats that supposed to be?" Xu Laichun lifted her chin slightly, her eyes filled with doubt.

Yu Lianfu turned toward his elderly mother and smiled before explaining, "They plan to gather a group of people to work together and cultivate the land. Whatever crops they harvest will be distributed among all the members. Some of the farmland will be donated by villagers, while they intend to lease the rest."

Xu Laichun furrowed her brows even more deeply. She stopped sorting the tea branches and spoke in a lowered voice. "I dont think things are as simple as they seem. If these people havent done something shady elsewhere, why would they come all the way to our remote mountain village to start some kind of farm? Maybe theyre fugitives the authorities are already looking to arrest!"

"Youre overthinking it, Laichun. Theyre all decent people. Theyre not fugitives or anything like that!" Yu Lianfu waved his hand dismissively. However, he avoided her gaze and lowered his head to take a sip of wine.

Xu Laichun tossed the tea branches in her hand aside and warned him, "Youd better not get too close to that bunch of people. We dont know whether theyre bears or tigers. We have no idea who they really are. The authorities could come to arrest them any day, and we might get dragged into their trouble."

Yu Lianfu frowned, a trace of impatience appearing at the corners of his eyes. "I dont think itll come to that. Mao-tong and I were just curious, so we went to listen. Besides, we dont have any extra farmland to donate anyway."

At that moment, Wenyan, sitting in the corner, bit his finger and asked softly, "Dad, what does donate mean?"

"Children should listen, not ask questions. Dont go asking about things like this." Yu Lianfu raised his eyebrows, his tone slightly sharp, and glanced sideways at his son.

Old Madam Zhou Tian quietly interjected, "Wenyan was only asking out of curiosity. Dont scold him."

Xu Laichun spoke calmly. "Youd better take my advice. Stay away from those people and dont get involved with them. Otherwise, you might bring trouble upon yourself. We should just live simple lives, farming and minding our own business. The authorities wont come looking for trouble with us."

Yu Lianfu raised his wine cup and gave a wry smile. "I know, my pretty wife." His tone sounded perfunctory, but his expression betrayed a trace of hesitation and the turbulent thoughts stirring beneath the surface. His fingers tapped lightly against the tabletop, as though he were recalling the faces at the afternoon meeting, each one burning with idealism, their impassioned words, and... the farmland they had promised would eventually be distributed among the people.

Outside, the wind grew stronger, making the bamboo grove sway as though the mountain god were whispering in someones ear. The lamplight flickered across Yu Lianfus eyes, revealing a faint, uneasy spark.

54

The old brick-and-tile three-sided courtyard house stood on a slope halfway up the mountain. The sky had grown dim, and the evening twilight spread like water across the landscape. The air carried the faint smell of cooking smoke and damp earth. Inside the house, a yellow light bulb cast a wavering, gentle glow. Several faded slogans and maps were pasted on the walls. A wooden table stood in the middle of the living room, with a steaming pot of tea and several coarse ceramic tea bowls already filled.

Chen Chunqing rolled up his sleeves and smiled as he served tea to the visiting Wan Ju brothers and their companions. As he handed them the cups, he said, "Brother Wan Ju, welcome! Welcome! Youve brought so many people with you. This place is finally coming alive! The revolutionary fire cant be kept burning by just a handful of people. The more people we have, the stronger the flames will grow!"

Chen Wan Ju accepted a tea bowl and clasped his hands in greeting. "Brother Chunqing, our family hasnt come here just to join in the excitement. Weve come prepared to risk our lives. I witnessed the government killing people with my own eyes. That was when my heart turned cold, and I decided to take this path."

Before he could finish, his younger brother, Chen Xijun, added excitedly, "During the February 28 Incident, Old Cai from our neighboring village was taken away and executed by firing squad just for saying a few words. They called him a rebel or some such thing... We were all terrified!"

Their younger sister, Chen Gui, who was sitting nearby, said softly, "That day, I was holding my little sister in my arms at our front gate when I heard the gunshots. One after another... Each shot felt as though it struck my own heart."

Chen Chunqing nodded and patted Chen Qiuyong on the shoulder. "Its deeply moving to see how united you all are. Brother Chunying and younger brother Chunyang are already helping transport materials up the mountain. Well take things one step at a time and make sure no one has taken these risks in vain."

Chen Benjiang sat on a bamboo chair and spoke in a calm, steady voice, with the firm conviction of a teacher. "This is not simply an escape. It is a historical turning point. Those of us who are intellectuals, miners, students, and farmers have gathered here to find a genuine way forward for Taiwans future."

Outside the window, the wind howled, and the trees and grass swayed noisily. Chen Wan Ju stood up and gazed toward the dark mountain silhouettes beyond the doorway. His voice was resolute as he said, "If we dont stand up now, the next generation wont even have the freedom to speak out."

Several young men entered shortly afterward. They were dressed simply. Some carried saws used for cutting firewood, while others had bamboo baskets slung over their shoulders. One of them spoke in a low voice. "Wang Jing and the others have arrived. They came in disguised as woodcutters. Everything looks safe outside."

Chen Chunqing immediately gave his instructions. "Ah-Gui, arrange for some people to prepare the vacant lot behind the mountain and find accommodations for the newcomers. Xijun, take a few of the brothers to the kitchen and prepare some food. They must be starving."

And so, that night, the lights in the courtyard house remained dim, but voices filled every corner. In this remote mountain region, the armed base at Luku was quietly taking shape. A group made up of poets, workers, students, and farmers was gradually embarking on a path where their dreams and sacrifices would become inseparable.