The volcano beneath the riverbed began to stir unexpectedly, catching everyone off guard. They nearly fell into the chaos. In a hurry, they climbed up a gentle slope and sat down to catch their breath, still shaken by the experience. However, the ground continued to shake violently, and the walls of volcanic rock seemed ready to collapse at any moment.
Luo Ning explained that a volcanic eruption was not certain; it was likely just a periodic activity of the volcano. The timing of these activities was unpredictable, occurring every few days or sometimes only once every few hundred or thousand years. There are many types of volcanoes. The common funnel-shaped volcanoes form after large eruptions, while some volcanoes, though not extinct, have not erupted for thousands of years and remain buried underground, occasionally causing tremors.
Regardless of how often they are active, they were unlucky to be here at this moment. They had planned to follow the underground river to find an exit, but the water below was boiling. Going down would be like being thrown into a pot of boiling dumplings. Just as they were feeling hopeless, Ga Wa tugged at my shirt and pointed upward, urging us to look.
A slender white light appeared hundreds of meters above, dazzling my eyes and causing a sharp pain. What could it be? Was it another long-extinct creature?
Luo Ning exclaimed with excitement, “It’s the sky! It’s the sky!”
The underground volcanic activity had triggered an earthquake, creating a large crack in the ground above. It had been so long since I had seen the sky that I almost forgot what it looked like—was it blue or white?
I turned to the others and said, “Comrades, there’s always a way out. If we hold on until the end, we will succeed. For the new China, let’s move forward!”
The four of us, who were already exhausted, suddenly felt a surge of hope at the sight of a possible escape. We gathered our strength, pushed ourselves up, and desperately climbed the slope.
The tremors grew stronger, and the heat was overwhelming, with a strong smell of sulfur that made our heads throb. We feared the crack would close again, and everyone wanted to get out as quickly as possible, sprinting up the steep slope.
The volcanic rock became more fragmented as we climbed, some parts like sand, making it hard to find footing. We would climb three feet only to slip back two. Our hands were raw, but we ignored the pain, gritting our teeth and pushing on. Climbing the five or six hundred meters felt as difficult as crossing a snowy mountain. Finally, we reached the surface.
Above us was a blue sky and white clouds, with mountains stretching on either side. We had climbed to a section of the Kunlun River valley, the lowest area of the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, just a few kilometers from the unfrozen spring station.
Luo Ning was too weak, and Ga Wa had an injured foot, so they fell behind. I couldn’t rest; I quickly tied our gear together and lowered it for them to grab.
The earthquake intensified, and the one-meter-wide crack could collapse at any moment. Luo Ning and Ga Wa could only hold on tightly to the strap, slipping back with every step they took.
The big guy and I pulled with all our might, but no matter how strong we were, we couldn’t pull them both up at once. Just then, Ga Wa let go of the strap and pushed Luo Ning up from below. With our combined efforts, we managed to pull her out of the crack.
As I prepared to throw the strap down for Ga Wa, a violent tremor shook the ground again, and the earth closed in, trapping Ga Wa in the middle.
In the freezing temperatures below minus twenty degrees, we had long lost our coats and hats. The three of us forgot the cold, wearing only thin clothes, crying and futilely digging at the ground with our hands and bayonets.
Three days later, I lay in a military hospital bed. The chief of staff held my hand and kindly said, “Comrade Hu, you showed great bravery this time. On behalf of the military committee, I express my condolences and hope you recover soon to achieve new accomplishments in the revolutionary path. How are you feeling now?”
I replied, “Thank you for your concern, sir. I still… still…” I wanted to say I was okay, but thinking of my fallen comrades—Xiao Lin, Ga Wa, the instructor, and the second squad leader—made the word “okay” stick in my throat, and I couldn’t say it.
As Churchill said, there are no eternal friends or enemies, only eternal interests.
In 1969, due to international circumstances, my unit was sent deep into the Kunlun Mountains for construction. The harsh environment slowed our progress significantly. Over three years, dozens of soldiers sacrificed their lives on the site, yet we had only completed two-thirds of the military facility.
At that time, the world situation shifted again. In 1972, Nixon visited China, and Sino-American relations thawed. China’s strategic deployment underwent major adjustments, and the construction in the Kunlun Mountains was halted. We, the engineers who had joined midway, were reassigned back to the combat unit under the Lanzhou Military Region.
Day after day, year after year, the training in the camp was monotonous and tough—drills, exercises, studies, and evaluations. A few years later, the Cultural Revolution ended, and the Central Committee corrected the chaos in time. The Gang of Four was dismantled, and after a decade of turmoil, social order finally returned to normal.
However, the military was a unique environment disconnected from society. I didn’t feel much change in the camp. We no longer had to recite Chairman Mao’s quotes upon meeting, but whenever new recruits arrived, we still had to provide revolutionary education.
One morning, after returning from a meeting at the headquarters, the communications officer, Xiao Liu, rushed over, panting. “Report, Company Commander! A platoon of new recruits has arrived today, but the instructor is at the military district for training, so please go and talk to the new recruits about the revolution and our traditions.”
Talking about the revolution and traditions meant sharing the history of our unit. I wasn’t an expert on this, but since I was now the company commander and the instructor was away, I had no choice but to step up.
I led the thirty or so new recruits into the unit’s honor display room. Pointing to a banner embroidered with the words “Heroic Stabbing Company,” I told them, “This is the honor our Sixth Company earned during the Huaihai Campaign. This title has been preserved to this day.” I recounted the fierce battle, embellishing the details of how our Sixth Company fought bravely, using bayonets to repel a full regiment of the Kuomintang forces even when we were out of ammunition and supplies, successfully completing our mission.
Then I pointed to a dark, battered iron pot in a glass case. “Comrades, don’t underestimate this old pot. During the Huaihai Campaign, our revolutionary predecessors cooked pork and vermicelli in this pot before heading to the battlefield to fight. You see these cracks? They were caused by the enemy’s artillery fire. This pot silently tells the stories of our heroes and the atrocities of the enemy.”
That was about all I could say. I wasn’t responsible for ideological work, but I thought I did a decent job of impressing the new recruits.
Afterward, I dismissed the recruits to go eat in the mess hall. Xiao Liu and I walked behind them, and I asked, “How did I do in talking about the revolution and our traditions?”
Xiao Liu replied, “Oh, Company Commander, you did great! I was drooling the whole time. When are we going to learn from the revolutionary martyrs and improve our meals? I want to eat some pork and vermicelli too!”
I swallowed hard and playfully hit Xiao Liu on the head. “You didn’t hear a thing about revolutionary traditions; all you heard was about pork and vermicelli! Go get the food from the mess hall. I think they’re serving buns today. If you’re late, those new recruits will snatch them all up. I order you to run!”
Xiao Liu agreed and dashed off toward the mess hall. Suddenly, I remembered I had forgotten to tell him the most important thing, so I shouted after him, “Make sure to grab some with plenty of filling for me!”
Lying in bed, I ate my buns while reading a letter from home that had just arrived. Everything was well at home, and there was nothing important mentioned. After reading it twice, I set it aside and picked up an old book that had been passed down in my family. My recent experiences had sparked a great interest in Feng Shui, and I often took the book out to read.
The book contained many terms related to the five elements and the I-Ching. There were many concepts I didn’t understand, but over the years, I had found various books to read. Although my education was limited, I managed to grasp about thirty to forty percent of the content.
In “The Secret Art Of Yin-Yang Feng Shui in Sixteen Characters” refer to: Tian(Heaven), Di(Earth), Ren(Human), Gui(Ghost), Shen(God), Fo(Buddha), Mo(Demon), Chu(Beast), She(Restraint), Zhen(Suppression), Dun(Escape), Wu(Matter), Hua(Transformation), Yin, Yang, and Kong(Void).
I had no idea when this book was written or who authored it, but its content was profound. The sixty-four transformations of the Fuxi Bagua actually refer to sixteen trigrams. During the Yin and Shang dynasties, these sixteen trigrams were said to have revealed heavenly secrets, leading the gods to erase half of them. Even the remaining eight trigrams were incomplete. However, those who could understand even a little were already quite remarkable. Take Zhuge Liang, for example; with just a bit of knowledge, he was able to help Liu Bei strategize and establish a stronghold. Liu Bowen, with only a third of the understanding, assisted Zhu Yuanzhang in founding the Ming Dynasty, which lasted four hundred years. But I found it hard to believe that such extraordinary abilities could truly exist.
The only regret was that this book only contained half of the teachings on Feng Shui, the five elements, and burial layouts. The other half, which covered the principles of Yin-Yang, Bagua, and Taiji, was lost when it passed to my grandfather. The remaining text was disjointed and difficult to understand, making it hard to grasp its deeper meanings. If I had the complete version, it would surely be easier to comprehend.
Suddenly, a series of three long and three short assembly calls pierced the quiet air of the camp. My first thought was, “Something must have happened; there’s no reason for a sudden assembly in broad daylight.” I quickly stuffed the last two buns into my mouth, jumped out of bed, and rushed outside.
Rows of troops were lined up neatly. I noticed it wasn’t just our battalion assembling; the entire regiment had gathered. As a junior officer, I wasn’t privy to the details of the operation; I could only obey orders and follow commands. We were instructed to stand by at the train station, preparing to depart with our brother units.
The military train station was packed with thousands of soldiers, creating a sea of green from a distance. It seemed the entire division was mobilized. At that time, mobilizing a division was a significant event. Our main division was quite large, consisting of three infantry regiments, an artillery regiment, a tank regiment, and the logistics support from the division headquarters, totaling around twenty thousand personnel. Such a large-scale operation must have a serious purpose. Surely, it wasn’t for disaster relief; I hadn’t heard of any recent disasters in the area.
Confused, we were transported by train all the way to the border of Yunnan. It was then that everyone realized we were going to war. Many people began to cry…
At the same time, during his visit to the United States, Deng Xiaoping made a surprising statement in the White House: “If they don’t listen, they should be spanked.” He publicly acknowledged the large-scale mobilization of Chinese troops along the China-Vietnam border.
In the early hours of February 17, 220,000 soldiers from 17 divisions of the People’s Liberation Army launched a full-scale attack, advancing all the way to Lang Son. On March 4, China announced a withdrawal of its troops.
My company was the spearhead of the main division, leading the charge. After ten days of fighting, we suffered over fifty percent casualties. During one march, we were ambushed by Vietnamese agents who used women holding children as cover. They threw explosives into our armored personnel carrier, killing eight of my soldiers inside. My eyes turned red with anger, and I managed to capture two Vietnamese militia members.
They were an elderly man in his fifties and a young woman in her twenties, seemingly a father and daughter. One of my subordinates informed me that the woman had disguised the explosive as a baby in her arms and threw it into the armored vehicle as we passed. There was no doubt about it; she was the one responsible.
The thing I feared most was watching my comrades die in front of me. In a fit of rage, I lost control and forgot all about the Three Major Disciplines and Eight Points of Attention, as well as our military’s policies regarding prisoners of war.
This incident severely violated military discipline and even caught the attention of the command headquarters, specifically General Xu. If it weren’t for my family’s deep connections within the military district, I would have been sent to a military court, and my military career would have ended there, forcing me to return home with a discharge order.