A century of poverty

Chapter 18 Hope

After years of hardship, he could no longer make ends meet and had to find another way to survive.

There is a clay pottery maker in Zhangshimen whose craftsmanship has been passed down for generations. The clay pots are made very well and come in a wide variety of styles, making them famous in the area.

Earthenware pots are daily necessities in every household. However, they have a drawback: they are fragile. This leads to a rapid demand cycle, which is also due to their fragility. Nobody wants to do this business. Wholesale sets are easily damaged by a single bump in a cart; a slight misstep can reduce them to rubble. This trade requires carrying them on your shoulders, and you must walk steadily. A single stumble can wipe out your entire load. Especially since these pots are made of clay and are quite heavy, even though the business is profitable, nobody wants to do it. They see this as a business opportunity, willing to endure hardship and toil. Where else can you find a small, profitable business like this?

He made up his mind: after a hearty meal, he'd tuck two sweet potatoes into his pocket, shoulder his carrying pole and rope frame, and arrive in no time, a mere ten or twenty li. When he reached the kiln, the old owner who made the earthenware pots looked at him and said, "Young man, you look unfamiliar." "Hmm, this is my first time making earthenware pots," he replied, hoping for an answer.

"Which village is it from?" the old boss continued to ask, because he was familiar with the villagers who often came to load goods, and their residences were not too far away.

"From Zhangzhuangtuo in the north." Hoping for an answer.

"Since this is your first day of business, I'm giving you a small helmet as a gift. I wish you great success in your business opening!" the old man said, bringing over another small helmet.

"Thank you!" Hope paid, then carefully picked up the load, trembling slightly, and walked away.

He walked through Shimen Street, heading towards two villages to the east. Entering a village, a vendor called out, "Selling earthenware pots!" The heavy load weighed down his shoulders, causing pain, so he slung the carrying pole over to his other shoulder. Just then, an older woman and a child came out of their doorway, hoping to put down their load: "Buy a set of pots, they're such fine earthenware pots!"

The older woman squatted down, looked at the money, took out a bill, examined it inside and out, patted it with her hand, and heard a neat buzzing sound. "I'll take it," she said, taking out some money from under her coat. At that moment, she held up a bill that was a size larger and said, "I'll give you this one at the same price. It's my first day doing business, so please help me out."

"This kid is quite eloquent. Okay, I'll take it all." With that, he handed the money to Hope.

He hoped to wander around this village, then head to the next, calling out his wares as he went, but no one looked or bought anything. The sun was already high in the sky when he unbuttoned his cotton-padded coat and left the village, walking along the flat road towards his next destination.

The willows by the roadside had begun to sprout; winter was over, spring was coming, and the birds that had gone south for the winter had returned. "Thud—thud—" He flew from tree to tree. He quickened his pace, hoping to reach Mujing Town before noon to rest and have a bite to eat.

Mujing was an old town. He had been here before when going to the market, so he was quite familiar with the terrain. A main street ran north-south, lined with stalls selling goods on market days. Today wasn't market day, but there were still quite a few houses. He was walking from south to north when he saw a group of people at the blacksmith's shop at the south end. He walked towards the crowd and saw old and young people talking happily. He carefully put his load under a tree and came over to listen. He saw a young man excitedly talking: "You've heard of Gao Heng's team, right? The Gao Heng team from Luan County, carrying broadswords and axes, who specialize in killing Japanese devils. Last night, they wiped out a sentry post at 'Jiulong Mountain.' Around midnight, they ambushed nearby, chopped down a Japanese soldier who came out to get up in the middle of the night, then stormed into the sentry post and hacked down the other sleeping Japanese soldiers. After that, they put away their guns and ran. The Japanese couldn't even find a trace of them."

"They owe us! They owe us so much! These Japanese devils have caused us so much suffering over the years. We should cut down a few more of them and send them back to their hometowns!" an old man chimed in.

"It's noon, let's go home for lunch." Someone said, and people moved on. Hope went back to the basket and took out the sweet potato from his pocket to eat. Then he heard someone call out, "Selling clay pottery, you've come to the right place today. Go and take a look at those two houses on the west end." Hope nodded.

He ate the sweet potato in a few bites, picked up his carrying pole, and headed towards the place people were pointing to, calling out as he went, "Selling earthenware pots—!"

Just then, two women came out: "Hey, you sell earthenware pots, come and take a look." Hopefully, they came over, put down their carrying pole, and the two women, one at each end, looked at the earthenware pots on the pole. They took out the complete sets, laid them out one by one, and examined them inside and out. After they finished looking, they stood up: "We'll buy all your pots, can you give us a discount?" Hope, of course, agreed.

After the transaction was completed, the person asked, "Excuse me, ladies, may I ask you a question?" The older woman replied, "Go ahead and ask."

"Why did you buy so many earthenware pots all at once?" Hope asked.

"You don't know, we're from the area north of the wall. The Japanese forced us to move, smashed our belongings, and demolished our houses. We had no choice but to come here to stay with relatives. If we don't buy something, we'll have nothing to do!"

Hope: "Oh—"

"Many villages won't let us stay there."

Hope said, "Oh, oh, I understand." With that, she packed up her load, shouldered the carrying pole, and headed home.

Not far from the town, a man of medium height, with a high nose and big eyes, wearing a gray cloth shirt, light-colored trousers, and a wide-brimmed hat, with a cloth satchel slung over his right shoulder and his right hand in the satchel, looked like a shrewd businessman, and was smiling at him.

"You're not that—I can't remember your name right now, but I recognize you," Hope said.

"Yes! It's okay if you can't remember, just remember me. My name is Gao Xiang."

"Yes, yes, it's been two years. Where have you been?" Hope asked.

"I've been to other places over the years, but I've come back again, and I'll continue to work in this area," Gao Xiang replied.

The speaker was none other than Gao Xiang, an underground member of the Communist Party. He had previously led the anti-Japanese uprising forces from Luan County to Lulong to contact Gao Jianzhi, who was also involved in the Lulong uprising. Now, he was an underground member of our Party in this enemy-occupied area. North of the railway and south of Lulong was an enemy-occupied area under Japanese and puppet rule, where the Japanese and puppet forces frequently launched attacks, causing great suffering to the people. He was responsible for establishing "fortified households" here, developing Party members, organizing and mobilizing the people to rise up against the Japanese, collecting intelligence on the activities of the Japanese, and transmitting the intelligence to the base areas or guerrilla forces in Lulong and northwest Qian'an.

"How did you end up selling earthenware pots? It's a tough business," Gao Xiang said.

"We have to work hard, even if it's tough. There's no other way; life is hard these days!"

Gao Xiang: "After driving out the Japanese invaders, we poor people became masters of our own destiny, and life became better. This requires the joint efforts of all Chinese people, a spirit of sacrifice, and willingness to fight against the Japanese with me."

"I'm willing!" Hope replied. "However, my mother won't let me join the Eighth Route Army. I'm her only son." Hope lowered her head.

Gao Xiang: "You can fight the Japanese even if you don't join the Eighth Route Army. You can pass on intelligence to us."

The thought of passing on intelligence brings back memories of a few years ago.

When he was thirteen or fourteen, he handed himself a letter, instructing him to make sure it was delivered to Shi Jingui, the militia captain of Diaoyutai.

No problem, Shi Jingui is my uncle Li Dianwu's captain, we know each other well. He went to Diaoyutai to deliver the message after lunch that day. His mother was worried and saw him off at Dadaogou. Hope told her, "Mom, you don't need to go any further, I'll be fine." His mother stood there, watching Hope go up Dadaogou to the main road and then back. Just then, a gunshot rang out from the fork in the road leading to Zhaozhuangtuo. "Whoosh—" A bullet flew towards Hope, whizzing past his right ear.

The distance wasn't far, only a few dozen steps. The mother closed her eyes in fright, and after a long while, she opened them again. Her son seemed unaffected and continued walking forward. She looked to the right of where the shooting had taken place and saw a person dressed in all black with a hat walking up a side path.

She was still shaken and walked home with trepidation.

Hopefully, there was no turning back. They made their way to Diaoyutai, where Li Dianwu delivered the letter to Shi Jingui. They stayed at their maternal grandmother's house for one night and returned home after breakfast the next day.

Hopefully, this situation was never revealed.

Gao Xiang smiled and said, "You're going everywhere for this business now, which is great. It's a good cover to make a living and deliver intelligence at the same time."

Hope smiled and said, "Okay, how much in advance?"

Gao Xiang: "No rush, I'll contact you if I have any intelligence."

Hoping to get home early, he didn't tell his family about his promise to deliver intelligence to the Eighth Route Army. His mother was delighted to see him: "You're back quite early! Did you sell everything?"

Hope replied, "They've all been sold."