Read The Dragon's Village: An Autobiographical Novel of Revolutionary China for Free Online

their guns and uniforms and merged back into the populace. Then, abruptly, the cannon fire ceased.
    Rumor followed rumor in true Shanghai style. My uncle was informed by “reliable sources” that the main Guomindang army had been ordered to retreat due south to avoid being trapped in Shanghai. On May 26, red flags appeared as if by magic over the buildings and factories taken over by the underground revolutionaries. Ma Li’s proclamations had evidently had their effect. When I saw onepasted on the door of the local post office I felt a small thrill of excitement.
    Shanghai that day seemed quieter than I had ever remembered. A few heavy plumes of smoke rose lazily into the air. The only raucous sound was the occasional clang of fire engines racing to put out a fire. We heard that there had been a few street skirmishes in the suburbs, but we ourselves never heard a single rifle shot. Still, my aunt would not take a chance. She bolted the front door and gate and stationed one of the huskier male servants there as a guard. None of us were permitted to go out.
    The dining room clock was striking twelve and we were just beginning our lunch when the maid came in. She bent over Auntie and spoke in a low voice. For a moment my aunt looked startled, then knit her brows and considered something carefully. Finally she said, “Ling-ling, your friend Ma Li is here.”
    I stood up. “Auntie, if it’s not convenient to let her in, I will take her somewhere else.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œTo some friend’s home.” I was not sure how to answer. “I have to find a place for her. We still don’t know who really controls the city.”
    My aunt leaned back in her chair and stared hard into her cup for a long moment.
    â€œI won’t invite her in, but I won’t throw her out,” she said.
    I went up to her, wanting to kiss her cheek, but she turned her face away with a trace of petulance.
    Ma Li sat subdued like an unwelcome guest on the bench in the hall. I rushed to her, overjoyed to see her. I hugged her, then held her at arm’s length. “You haven’t changed your clothes since I saw you two weeks ago.”
    â€œNo, there were too many prisoners and not enough uniforms for us all.” Her eyes flashed with a smile from under her disheveled hair.
    â€œSo they got you.” I made a bitter grimace. “You must be tired and famished. Let’s go to my room.”
    â€œIt happened right after I sent that young student to you. We had just finished our meeting when we wereraided. Several of us got away but quite a number were caught.” Ma Li took off her coat and sat on the edge of the bed.
    â€œBut how did you get out?” I asked. I gently brushed back her hair. Powdery dust fell from it. She breathed with difficulty. The taut muscles of her throat moved spasmodically.
    â€œWe made a deal with our jailers. If they saved us now, we would save them later.” Her voice dropped to a low murmur. She was worn out with the tension of her ordeal. Her face suddenly looked pinched and lifeless like some faded old photograph. She closed her eyes and slumped down deathly pale on the satin quilt. For a second I thought she was dead.
    â€œMa Li,” I wailed. “What did they do to you?”
    She opened her eyes in embarrassment, as if she had done something wrong, slightly astonished to find herself looking up at the ceiling. At my cry my aunt had hurried in; now she took charge of the situation, putting Ma Li to bed, sponging her face, doing all the things that she would have done if I myself had been lying there helpless on the bed.
    All was quiet the next day, a fine May morning. The sky was misty blue, and birds sang and twittered in the trees. We had scarcely noticed them for days. When we turned on the radio, triumphant music blared and the announcer told us that the People’s Liberation Army had taken over Shanghai; the Guomindang was in