Though Tuanzishan logging camp was rudimentary and remote, it was indispensable for socialist construction, which was why we had to brave the wind and snow to keep watch here. Truthfully, there wasn't much serious work to be done at the camp in winter; the only task was to assist with sending off the final log transport train downstream when the time came.

The camp consisted of a row of cabins built from birchwood, where lumberjacks lived and worked during the spring and summer. Due to limited transport capacity, they couldn't move all the trees they cut. Thus, once their production quotas were met, usually around the Mid-Autumn Festival, they would return home to celebrate the New Year, leaving the camp under the care of personnel dispatched from the nearest outpost, Ganggangyingzi.

Before our arrival, the camp had been managed by Old Man Qiaoshan and his granddaughter, a girl named "Huamei." According to the village secretary’s instructions, we were supposed to replace them and send them back. However, upon reaching the site, we immediately sensed something deeply amiss. The small cabin used by the caretakers was eerily empty; the ashes in the stove were stone-cold, showing no residual warmth, and we saw neither the old man nor his granddaughter.

Worry gnawed at me. I quickly split up with my two companions to search the camp grounds, but found no trace of them. My unease grew. I said to Fatty and Yanzi, "The weather turned cold too fast this year, with no warning signs beforehand. I fear the wild beasts in the mountains must also be driven down by the winter scarcity. Could Old Man Qiaoshan and his granddaughter have been snatched by a fierce beast like a lynx?"

The hunters had taken all their hounds into the mountains for the hunt, so we were without dogs. Now, with heavy snow and wind battering us, the ridges around Tuanzishan were high and the forest dense, the terrain treacherous. The driving snow was erasing all tracks, animal or human. Even if a hundred of us were searching, we might not find them, let alone the three of us currently here. Fatty and I immediately decided to return to the village to fetch help, but then recalled that there was no one left in the village to ask. We were young then, and for a moment, we were utterly stumped.

It was Yanzi who was more observant. She re-examined the small cabin. Some grain and dried meat remained inside, but Old Man Qiaoshan’s hunting rifle and the horn flask containing gunpowder and shot were both gone. Hunters are skilled at reading subtle clues. There were no animal signs inside the cabin, and things were arranged very neatly. They seemed to have made a large batch of sticky rice cakes as well; perhaps nothing terrible had happened after all. Maybe the old man had taken his granddaughter out hunting rabbits, or perhaps, fearing the heavy snow would seal the mountain passes, he had returned to the village ahead of our arrival. Old Man Qiaoshan had been hunting for decades; his experience was vast. Although his movements were not as agile as in his youth, as long as he had his rifle and didn't run into a mother bear with newborn cubs, he should be safe.

Seeing no immediate danger at the camp, the three of us finally felt a measure of relief. We had endured untold suffering from the cold and hunger on our journey. At this point, any urgent matter had to be set aside. The most pressing need was warmth and a full stomach. So, we hastily fired up the kangk (heated brick bed), haphazardly warming the stiff, frozen flatbreads against the stove wall to fill our bellies. After eating, darkness had completely set in. We started chatting idly to pass the time, as was our custom, taking turns spinning yarns. Fatty started first, recounting an obscure tale of bandit suppression in the Northeast before the Liberation, a story he’d heard from his father countless times—but it was Yanzi’s first time hearing it, and she was utterly captivated.

Fatty spoke with great animation, gesturing wildly: The bandits who gathered to plunder civilian wealth were known in the Northeast as "Hufei" or "Huzi." Legend held that these bandits were different from the horse thieves and brigands in the interior; they had their own established system, venerating the Ming Dynasty general Mao Wenlong, commander of the garrison at Pi Island, as their founding patriarch. After Yuan Chonghuan, Vice Censor-in-Chief of the Ming Dynasty, engineered Mao Wenlong’s death, a large contingent of Mao's former officers dispersed to the coastal islands or deep mountains of the Northeast. Initially, these men still claimed allegiance to the Ming Dynasty and avoided robbery, but over the course of a century, as the composition of their ranks grew increasingly complex, they gradually devolved into malevolent Hufei who terrorized the region. Nevertheless, right up until the Liberation, the Hufei still honored Mao Wenlong as their ancestor.

These roving groups of "Hufei" later came to be called "Liuzi." Depending on the distinctive "sign name" reported by each gang leader, the name of each Liuzi would vary, such as "One Iron Whip," "Grass Hopper," "Sang Big Saber," or "Phoenix Twin Heroes," and so on.

The foremost Hufei chieftain in the Northeast before the Liberation was a bald man nicknamed "Zheletian" (Covering the Sky). In his youth, he had been a martial monk in a temple, mastering the tough skills of the Bronze Cloth and Iron Shirt, yet even after "returning to secular life," he never grew hair. "Zheletian" was utterly ruthless, his hands stained with the blood of cadres and civilians.

After Japan’s surrender and the land reform in the Northeast, the East Field Headquarters established a specialized bandit suppression unit to safeguard the fruits of victory from being destroyed by bandits. Through a series of arduous and brutal battles, they finally uprooted the "Four Beams and Eight Pillars"—an internal organizational term used by the Hufei—of "Zheletian's" gang. Besides the leader, called the "Big Coffer," the so-called "Four Beams" consisted of the "Heaven-Topping Beam," the "Corner-Turning Beam," the "Door-Facing Beam," and the "Heartless Beam." The "Eight Pillars" were collectively known as the "Oddity Classifier," the "Line Handler," the "Situation Expert," the "Signal Caller," the "Chief Expediter," the "Water Agent," the "Horse Master," and the "Accountant." Once these key figures were eliminated, the entire Liuzi was considered collapsed.

The most crucial figure among the "Four Beams and Eight Pillars" was the "Corner-Turning Beam," known colloquially in the Northeast as the "General Calculator." He served as the gang’s strategist, specializing in using superstitious arts to "divine the Eight Gates" and determine the bandits' overall movements. Once the strategist was gone, "Zheletian" lost his crucial confidant and partner in crime, becoming a mere figurehead. Yet, this man was truly cunning to the extreme; the small suppression unit could never capture him, and he slipped through their fingers on several occasions right under their noses. Some superstitious locals spread rumors that when the bandit chief was young, he had saved the life of a Great Immortal Yellow, who was now protecting him throughout his life, allowing him to utilize earth (escape via burrowing), so even celestial troops couldn't catch him.

But fate is often strange. The Hufei deeply tabooed the word "death," yet they could not escape it in the end. It is often said that bandits meet no good end; "You reap what you sow." Perhaps "Zheletian’s" sins had piled up, and his time was up. That year, a rare "winter scarcity" occurred deep in the mountains—a year the common folk called a "Death Year"—and the Great Immortal Yellow could no longer shelter him.