When Zhang Xiaolan woke up again, it was midnight. The sound of fireworks at the stroke of twelve startled her awake. As she opened her eyes, she realized a man, unclothed, was lying on top of her, moving. This man was not unfamiliar—just hours ago, she had called him "godfather." Surrounding the bed were many men from the Xie family, men she normally referred to as grandfather, uncle, elder uncle, and big brother.
Zhang Xiaolan felt a tearing pain in her lower body. Gradually, she understood what had happened. She cried out, attempting to get up, but was met with a violent beating from Xie Pang. He continued beating her until she was utterly unable to resist. Only then did Xie Pang resume his cruel and inhumane assault. After he left, several of his brothers took turns repeating the same brutal acts. It was only at dawn that the men finally finished, and Zhang Xiaolan briefly found some relief.
One of Xie Pang's nephews threw her clothes at her. By then, Zhang Xiaolan's eyes were vacant, her mind and body broken, teetering on the edge of collapse. Seeing that she did not put on her clothes, Xie Pang called out to the women outside, who rushed in—not to confront their own husbands, but to lash out at Zhang Xiaolan, as if she had been the one to seduce those men. The women beat her mercilessly, causing her lips, nose, and ears to bleed. Only when Xie Pang intervened did the violence stop.
Xie Pang dressed Zhang Xiaolan himself, whispering threats into her ear: "It's already like this. If you try to report us, it won't do you any good. If I go to prison or worse, your reputation will be ruined for sure. And if something happens to me, the other Xie men will come to your hometown and deal with your family. Don't think I don't know where you live—I have your address from the letters you sent. Your parents are teachers; killing them would be easier than killing a pig."
By then, Zhang Xiaolan was numb, a walking corpse, letting Xie Pang clumsily dress her. Two of Xie Pang's nephews pushed her on a bicycle back to the sent-down youth camp. There, they assaulted her again. Zhang Xiaolan had lost all will to resist, allowing them to do as they pleased. When they left, they ransacked her room, taking her ration tickets and cash.
After they left, Zhang Xiaolan refused food and water for three days. On the third day of the lunar new year, the local Revolutionary Committee heard that a sent-down youth hadn't returned home for the festival and sent people to check. They found Zhang Xiaolan barely alive, nearly frozen. Had that winter not been unusually warm, she might have died on the first day.
She spent over a month in the village clinic. During this time, Xie Pang came several times, but Zhang Xiaolan was in a dazed, incoherent state—no longer behaving like a normal person. The village party secretary temporarily eased his worries, but no one expected that, just when everyone thought she had lost her mind, Zhang Xiaolan mysteriously disappeared.
Her disappearance unsettled Xie Pang for a time, but the next morning someone reported seeing Zhang Xiaolan boarding a southbound train at the city station. She hadn't reported the incident to the authorities, which slightly eased Xie Pang's tension. Honestly, what happened on New Year's Eve should not have escalated this far. The trouble began with Xie Pang's nephews—boys of fifteen or sixteen—rowdy and full of unchecked aggression. They often got into mischief but, because they were under Xie Pang's protection, no one dared to stop them.
Over the past two years, these boys had grown more brazen. In summer, they climbed walls to spy on Widow Liu bathing; in winter, they peered over bathroom walls to watch young women. They had been caught many times, dragged by their ears to Xie Pang for reprimands. Living in the same village, neighbors found it hard to intervene, and even with the Xie family's power, no one wanted to escalate conflicts. Xie Pang and his brothers had beaten these boys countless times, but within days they would be at it again.
Eventually, one of Xie Pang's elder relatives, also a parent to one of the boys, suggested a reckless idea: "These kids are full of restless energy. Maybe we should find a woman to help them relieve it. They're old enough now; it's time they experienced women." Xie Pang hesitated but did not oppose the plan. Though conservative about love and sex in general, rural life was more permissive. Xie Pang himself had multiple mistresses in the village.
Once the decision was made, they looked for a candidate. None in their own village were suitable, so they chose a woman from the neighboring village, someone with a bad reputation. Xie Pang was too ashamed to negotiate; instead, his elder relative went to discuss terms. Though details were unclear, the woman agreed for thirty jin of grain per person (ten jin of fine grain and twenty jin of coarse grain), on condition that the visits be separate—one woman, one night, repeatedly until each boy had been with her. The deal was settled; the grain just needed to be delivered.
It was then that Zhang Xiaolan arrived in the small fishing village.
Her presence lit up the boys' eyes—they had never seen such a beautiful girl from the south. They began hanging around the sent-down youth camp whenever Zhang Xiaolan appeared, following her wherever she went. This caused frequent fights with the male sent-down youths. The boys lost interest in the woman from the neighboring village and, when the appointed nights came, none of them wanted to go, fearing wasted grain. Ultimately, Xie Pang's unmarried younger brother took their place.
All these boys had their eyes on Zhang Xiaolan. They fought outsiders over her and then fought each other behind closed doors. This infuriated the elders of the Xie family. Fearing someone might get seriously hurt, the family convened again. Once more, Xie Pang's elder relative proposed: "Since the kids all want Zhang Xiaolan, let them sleep with her once. They're just kids; once they know what it's like, they'll settle down."
This time, Xie Pang was firmly opposed. He argued that the woman from the neighboring village was one thing, but Zhang Xiaolan was a pure young woman—how could they let their boys ruin her? At that moment, Xie Pang's second father spoke up: "Old man, you're too stubborn. Does that little girl really have to know everything?" His words stunned Xie Pang. Finally, it was the same elder, the first to die violently forty years later, who revealed his plan...
Everything from then on proceeded according to the Xie family's plan. Xie Pang took the initiative to approach Zhang Xiaolan and even formally accepted her as his goddaughter. He also offered to help her buy a train ticket home, but deliberately delayed. It wasn't until just before the Lunar New Year that he finally purchased the wrong ticket on purpose. In the end, he dragged Zhang Xiaolan to his home to spend the New Year.
The original plan was to get Zhang Xiaolan drunk, then let his several nephews take advantage of her, afterward erase all evidence on her body. Once she woke up, they would let her suffer in silence—after all, without proof, nothing she said would matter.
On New Year's Eve, Xie Pang and his brothers had all drunk quite heavily. After getting Zhang Xiaolan intoxicated, they didn't leave. Watching his nephews vent their base desires, the other Xie men, originally just bystanders, soon became overwhelmed by lust. Xie Pang's second father was the first to seize the opportunity, followed by the next man. Outside the door, the Xie family's wives sensed something was wrong and pounded on the door desperately, but no one responded. Xie Pang had wanted to intervene, but when he saw Zhang Xiaolan's pale body, his mind lost control, and he involuntarily removed his pants.
By this point, Xie Pang found himself trapped in a predicament. He did not know where Zhang Xiaolan had gone afterward, so he arranged for two men who were involved that night to visit her hometown to see if there was any news. It wasn't until over a month later that they returned, reporting that Zhang Xiaolan had not gone back home; her parents believed she was still working at the sent-down youth camp nearby. Xie Pang felt uneasy—she was a ticking time bomb. In hindsight, he regretted not having dealt with her decisively on New Year's Day—tying her to a stone and throwing her into the sea would have ended everything. After a few peaceful years without the police showing up in the village, the Xie family thought the matter was settled. Decades passed, and even Xie Pang nearly forgot about it.
As for Zhang Xiaolan, she gradually recovered consciousness after several days in the rural health clinic. But the first person she saw was the hypocritical Xie Pang, who came to "visit." Terrified, Zhang Xiaolan feigned ignorance and tricked him into leaving. She dared not stay at the clinic longer. Fortunately, when people from the local Revolutionary Committee and the sent-down youth office came to offer sympathy and support, they brought money and supplies.
That same night, taking advantage of lax supervision at the clinic, Zhang Xiaolan slipped away. In the dead of night, she walked five bus stops' worth of distance—a long journey. Only at dawn did she reach the county train station.
There was no direct train to her hometown, but in her fearful state, Zhang Xiaolan didn't care. She boarded any train heading south, desperate to leave. After transferring once and traveling for three more days, she finally arrived home. She carried a heart full of sorrow, grievances, and hatred, eager to pour her pain out to her parents.
Unexpectedly, right at her doorstep, she saw two of the men who had assaulted her that night. In that instant, she recalled the words Xie Pang had said on New Year's Eve—that he would come to kill her parents.
In a panic, Zhang Xiaolan dared not enter her home. She fled in a frantic, aimless manner until she stopped in front of a Taoist temple on the outskirts of town. This temple was once famous locally. Before Liberation, it was bustling with over a hundred Taoist priests tending the altars. Sadly, most priests had been forced to abandon their robes during the political campaigns. Now, only one elderly Taoist remained.
By coincidence, Zhang Xiaolan was distantly related to this old Taoist. She had visited him with her parents in her childhood. He looked much the same but more worn and destitute. The old Taoist was well known in the area. During the height of the political campaigns, whenever there was a struggle session, the old Taoist would be dragged there—if there was a target, he was the one being denounced; if not, he would be the one denouncing others. Yet at night, a very different scene would unfold.
Almost every month on the first and fifteenth lunar days, the old Taoist would be taken away by people who were often those who had denounced him during the day. Some individuals, crushed by persecution, chose to take their own lives. The grudges they left behind, if unresolved, became dangerous spiritual disturbances.
One incident caused quite a stir. During winter, local radical youth held a large struggle session in the middle school auditorium. As night fell early and the revolutionary zeal of the leaders on stage grew, the crowd's chanting gradually waned. Just as the host prepared to declare the meeting's success, sudden crying came from the stage.
The revolutionary leader on stage was enraged. This crying was clearly sympathizing with the so-called "counterrevolutionaries" — a blatant provocation against the Cultural Revolution! If not for the crowd making it impossible to locate the source immediately, the leader would have personally seized the culprit for revolutionary punishment. The leader snatched the microphone and shouted: "Revolutionary comrades! Someone here dares to weep for counterrevolutionaries! What kind of behavior is this? The culprit is among you! Comrades, open your eyes and expose this royalist sympathizer! Long live Chairman Mao! Long live the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution!"
The crowd echoed the slogans and began searching for the weeping person. The atmosphere grew tense; no one dared speak loudly for fear of being branded counterrevolutionary sympathizers or disrupting the revolution. The crying only grew louder, now sounding like a mix of male and female voices, old and young, becoming more desperate and chilling.
Suddenly, the auditorium's dozen or so lights flickered and sparked before all going out at once. In the darkness, next to the revolutionary leader on stage, a figure appeared—a man in his fifties, staring silently at the leader. His entire body was wreathed in green flames—not hot flames, but emitting an icy chill that pierced to the bone.
Most of those present recognized this old man: the former school principal, who had hanged himself days earlier, unable to bear the torment of the campaigns. Today was his seventh day after death. The crowd was frozen in terror. After a brief silence, the revolutionary leader suddenly foamed at the mouth and collapsed backward. At that moment, a woman screamed sharply, "Ghost! It's haunted!" The crowd panicked, rushing toward the auditorium's only exit.
Unfortunately, the exit was narrow, barely allowing two people to pass side by side. The crowd became jammed, trapped between pushing forward and retreating.