Night fell, and everyone was eating.
Jiang Chengzhou took his bowl and went alone to the second-floor balcony.
Deng Jing asked curiously, “What’s wrong with Chengzhou?”
Lin Zhilan held back a laugh. “He found himself a job—now he’s playing cop.”
Jiang Chengzhou wasn’t stupid.
He was sure Liang Ping was the thief, and that right now Liang Ping must be feeling guilty and wouldn’t dare spend the money.
If he were Liang Ping, the first thing he’d do is hide the money or dump it somewhere else.
Jiang Chengzhou ate his rice while keeping his ears perked for any sound from Liang Ping’s house.
The second-floor balcony faced the neighbor’s yard directly, giving him a perfect view.
On the other side, Commander Han came home from work and immediately sensed something off about the atmosphere.
Wang Xiuzhi greeted him and handed him a damp towel to wipe his face.
Commander Han asked in a low voice, “What happened at home?”
Wang Xiuzhi glanced at Liang Ping and told him everything that had happened that afternoon.
Commander Han’s face darkened instantly. He called Liang Ping over and stared at him with a stern gaze. “Did you steal that money or not?”
Compared to Wang Xiuzhi, Liang Ping was even more afraid of this father he’d only met a few times.
His legs trembling, he hung his head and said, “No, I didn’t steal.”
Commander Han frowned at him for a long while.
The army had its rules about human rights, but at home, that didn’t apply.
Commander Han and Wang Xiuzhi searched the house and then searched Liang Ping himself. Finding no money, they finally let it go.
Commander Han warned Liang Ping, “It’s best if you didn’t steal. Remember this: the army has its regulations, and soldiers’ families are not allowed to do anything shameful. If I find out you have sticky fingers, I’ll make sure you learn your lesson!”
Liang Ping lowered his head, his voice as faint as a mosquito’s. “Got it.”
After night deepened, the entire compound fell silent.
Liang Ping lay in bed, staring at the ceiling without moving.
Now he was both scared and regretful.
If he could do it over, he definitely wouldn’t have gone inside, and he definitely wouldn’t have stolen the money.
This was his first time doing something like this, and he’d been nervous from the start. Running into Jiang Chengzhou had only made it worse. Whatever petty thrill of luck he’d felt while snatching the money had long been washed away by panic.
At his age, Liang Ping understood a little, but everything was still half-formed in his mind.
He knew stealing was wrong, so he was terrified of being caught, and he instinctively imagined the consequences as severe.
One lie led to the need for countless more.
After waiting for what felt like ages, Liang Ping confirmed everyone in the house was asleep. Slowly, he sat up and pulled a few bills from under the insole of his shoe.
He didn’t dare spend that money.
Originally, he’d planned to toss the money into the outhouse so no one would ever find it.
But holding it in his hand, he just couldn’t bear to let it go.
So much money—he didn’t even know how many pounds of meat it could buy.
Liang Ping sat on the edge of the bed, his mind a churning mess.
After thinking it over, he decided to bury the money somewhere first.
He slipped on his shoes and crept out of his room, moving silently.
The main room was pitch-black. He fumbled his way to the door and carefully slid the bolt open bit by bit.
Every time there was the slightest click, Liang Ping would wait a long while, making sure no one had woken up, before daring to continue.
The moonlight was bright, coating the yard in silver.
Liang Ping scanned the area, found a corner by the wall, picked up a broken tile, and began digging into the dirt.
Afraid the scratching sound might give him away, he switched to digging with his bare hands.
Just then, a beam from a flashlight shot across from the second floor of the opposite house, landing directly on Liang Ping’s face.
Liang Ping froze completely, barely able to breathe in that moment.
Jiang Chengzhou’s voice cut through the quiet of the alley.
“Someone! Thief! There’s a thief stealing!”
Lights flicked on inside the house, and Liang Ping collapsed onto the ground.
Commander Han came out with a flashlight. When he saw Liang Ping sitting on the ground with dug-up dirt and scattered bills nearby, what more needed to be said?
He grabbed a bamboo switch as thick as his pinky from the pile of firewood by the wall and struck Liang Ping on the leg.
The switch, as thin as a pinky, was incredibly flexible—it hurt the most when used for beatings.
Liang Ping yelped in pain, springing up from the ground. He wanted to run but didn’t dare.
He just stood there, shrinking his body, instinctively raising his hands to block the strikes.
The bamboo switch came down on the back of his hand, leaving an instant red mark.
“How dare you steal! How dare you lie!”
Commander Han swung the switch again and again, thankfully a little restrained, aiming only at places with more flesh like the calves and buttocks.
Liang Ping wailed, not daring to dodge or beg for mercy.
On the second-floor balcony, Jiang Chengzhou stood holding the flashlight, at a loss.
He had wanted to catch the thief, to expose Liang Ping. But now, seeing Liang Ping get beaten, he didn’t feel nearly as pleased as he’d expected.
Lin Zhilan was jolted awake by Jiang Chengzhou’s shouts.
She walked onto the balcony and grabbed her nephew by the ear. “You woke everyone up in the middle of the night just to catch a thief? Don’t you need any sleep?”
Jiang Chengzhou wasn’t his usual playful self. His shoulders slumped. “Aunt, Liang Ping got hit by his dad… really badly.”
Lin Zhilan and Su Lang rarely hit their children. When they did, it was more like a joke.
Ma Xiaodong and his brothers got beaten often—sometimes it was Liu Chunhua and Regimental Commander Ma hitting them together—but they used their hands, not a bamboo switch like Commander Han.
Lin Zhilan walked to the railing and looked across.
A few neighbors woken by the noise had already rushed over and were trying to break up the fight.
She poked Jiang Chengzhou on the head. “Come on, let’s go take a look too.”
Lin Zhilan took Jiang Chengzhou’s hand and went downstairs to the gate of the Han family yard.
By then, Commander Han had been pulled aside by Li Jiang and Regimental Commander Ma. Liang Ping was curled up in a corner, the exposed skin of his legs covered in red welts from the bamboo switch.
Wang Xiuzhi cried as she begged, scolding Liang Ping for disappointing his father and angering him.
Commander Han, breathing heavily, fixed his eyes on Liang Ping. “Tell me, why did you steal the money?”
Liang Ping stayed silent, just crying, his shoulders heaving as if he might break down.
“I’m talking to you! Speak!” Commander Han roared, his voice like thunder.
The angrier he got, the more Liang Ping refused to speak.
Wang Xiuzhi tugged on Commander Han’s clothes. “Comrade Lin is here.”
Commander Han yanked Liang Ping up from the ground and shoved him in front of Lin Zhilan and Jiang Chengzhou. “Go! Apologize!”
Liang Ping cowered, hanging his head, shoulders still shaking, but he still wouldn’t say a word.
Commander Han’s barely suppressed anger flared up again. He raised his hand to strike.
Li Jiang had already taken the bamboo switch away, so Commander Han lifted his palm, ready to slap Liang Ping across the face.
Jiang Chengzhou reflexively pulled Liang Ping aside, stopping the slap from landing.
Liang Ping looked up in surprise at Jiang Chengzhou.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then bowed his head again.
