the splits and cracks in the larch bark seemed to turn into the old scars and new wounds covering her father.
But the war they craved was like a mountain at the other end of the grassland: clearly visible, but as far away as a mirage.
Even if they spilled all of their blood, it would cool faster than a pile of cow dung, and not be as useful.
And so, under their chain saws, vast seas of forests turned into barren ridges and denuded hills. Under their tractors and combine harvesters, vast tracts of grasslands became grain fields, then deserts.
Ye Wenjie could only describe the deforestation that she witnessed as madness.
Her company wielded hundreds of chain saws like a swarm of steel locusts, and after they passed, only stumps were left.
The tremors in that hand revealed a heart that resonated with hers.
In the spot where it once stood, the weight of the fallen tree being dragged left a deep channel in the layers of decomposing leaves that had accumulated over the years. Water quickly filled the ditch. The rotting leaves made the water appear crimson, like blood.
More than four decades later, in her last moments, Ye Wenjie would recall the influence Silent Spring had on her life.
As she continued to mull over these thoughts, a deduction made her shudder: Is it possible that the relationship between humanity and evil is similar to the relationship between the ocean and an iceberg floating on its surface? Both the ocean and the iceberg are made of the same material. That the iceberg seems separate is only because it is in a different form. In reality, it is but a part of the vast ocean.…
It was impossible to expect a moral awakening from humankind itself, just like it was impossible to expect humans to lift off the earth by pulling up on their own hair. To achieve moral awakening required a force outside the human race.
This thought determined the entire direction of Ye’s life.
The steep, once-nameless peak got its moniker from the large parabolic antenna dish at the top.
Maybe it was because of this incident that the base had directed the Corps to create a warning zone in the forest around the peak. The fact that the base could issue labor assignments to the Construction Corps hinted at its political power.
She didn’t want to comment on the way things were—there was nothing worthwhile to say.
Then he lifted his gaze to the dark woods that she had been looking at a moment earlier.
In the distance, the gigantic antenna on top of Radar Peak rose once again, giving off a cold, metallic glint.
She felt the world around her closing in like a sack being drawn shut, and everything pressing in on her.
Director Zhang’s two black eyes were trained on her like the barrels of two guns.
She knew that she had already fallen to the bottom of the pit. Any struggle was useless.
Contrary to certain historical records that later became publicized, Bai Mulin did not intend to frame Ye Wenjie at the start.
Half a century later, historians would all agree that this event in 1969 was a turning point in humankind’s history.
In addition to those targeted directly, countless others might have their fates altered because of this document.
Now, faced with political cases like yours, all prosecutorial organs and courts would rather be too severe than too lax. This is because treating you too severely would just be a mistake in method, but treating you too laxly would be a mistake in political direction.
She picked it up and poured half the water onto Ye and the other half onto her blanket, her movements never straying from a methodical calmness.
Through her wet clothes, the chill of the Inner Mongolian winter seized Ye like a giant’s fist.
She felt that the entire universe was a huge block of ice, and she was the only spark of life within it. She was the little girl about to freeze to death, and she didn’t even have a handful of matches, only illusions.…
The flag-bearer kept on changing, but the flag waved ceaselessly, like a perpetual pendulum, counting down the remainder of her short life.
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