If the principal’s incident made me less fanatical about the “Smash the Four Olds” campaign, then this human-bone Bodhisattva made me realize that there truly is karma in this world, that ghosts and spirits really do exist. It was after this event that I withdrew from the Red Guards, because I knew that it was precisely because I hadn’t joined the group that toppled the Bodhisattva that I managed to keep my life. I knew I couldn’t do foolish things anymore!

Although I was no longer a Red Guard, I couldn’t oppose this red storm either. At school, I was still often called upon by them to do this and that—putting up slogans, shouting slogans from the audience, and so on.

But days like these would eventually pass. When Chairman Mao decided it was time to put on the brakes, he issued the directive: “It is very necessary for educated youth to go to the countryside and receive re-education from the poor and lower-middle peasants.” So, once again, I went with the flow and joined the wave of the “Up to the Mountains and Down to the Countryside” movement. That year, I was exactly eighteen. It was also the year I nearly lost my life, and the year I became a Maoshan Taoist priest…

Chapter 9: Deep Mountain Village

In December 1968, the authorities issued the directive: “It is very necessary for educated youth to go to the countryside and receive re-education from the poor and lower-middle peasants.” The “Up to the Mountains and Down to the Countryside” movement began on a large scale. All junior and senior high school students still in school in 1968 were sent to the countryside for re-education. Students from this period were later called the “Old Three Classes,” referring to the students of 1966, 1967, and 1968. Of course, I was among these “Old Three Classes” who went to the countryside.

That year, most of my classmates went to the Jilin area. I had originally planned to go there too, but when I told my parents after returning home, they absolutely refused and insisted that I go to Jiangxi for my rural assignment. They even said that the Taoist priest’s prediction was really accurate—now that I was exactly eighteen, it was time for me to travel far from home.

Of course, I had no idea why. After all, Jiangxi is in central China, while Jilin is in the north—there’s a huge distance between them. Why would my parents suggest I go in that direction for no reason? Besides, none of my close classmates were going to Jiangxi. If I went there alone, wouldn’t it be terribly boring?

After thinking it over, I decisively rejected my parents’ suggestion for the simple reason that it wouldn’t be fun to go alone. Seeing that I wouldn’t listen, my parents had no choice but to tell me what the Taoist priest had said when I was born. It was then that I finally understood why my name was Edward.

At that time, although I didn’t believe in superstition, because of what had happened with the principal and the human-bone Bodhisattva, I couldn’t deny the existence of inexplicable things in this world. After hearing my parents describe my birth in such mystical terms, and saying that I would face a great calamity this year that could only be resolved by going to Jiangxi, I began to waver in my plan to go to Jilin.

Although I was still just a naive youth, who isn’t afraid when faced with death? As unbelievable as it sounded, I knew my parents wouldn’t lie to me. Besides, things had never really been peaceful for me since I could remember. After thinking it over all night, I finally accepted my parents’ suggestion and submitted my application to be sent to Jiangxi.

On the day I submitted my application, I thought I was destined to go alone and lead a lonely life. But to my surprise, someone was willing to go to Jiangxi with me—my good friend from high school, Monkey.

Actually, Monkey wasn’t his real name. His real name was William Thompson. He was rather small and thin. The reason everyone called William Thompson by this nickname wasn’t just because he was nimble, but more because he was as clever as a monkey, always full of little tricks.

When Monkey told me he had changed his application to Jiangxi, I was overjoyed. Having such a loyal friend truly felt like a blessing for life.

On the day of departure, the school held a farewell ceremony for us, with huge banners hanging in the hall. All the students about to go to the countryside wore big red flowers on their chests, and the leaders gave each of us a straw hat and a yellow satchel. The farewell ceremony was really just the leaders giving a couple of hours of official speeches and shouting a few slogans about going to the countryside.

After the ceremony, we were divided into groups by location, then, wearing our big red flowers, yellow satchels slung over our shoulders, and straw hats on our heads, we walked through the streets to the train station. The station was packed with students’ parents shouting slogans and saying their goodbyes. In the crowd, I immediately spotted my parents standing on the edge. Seeing their red, tear-filled eyes, my heart was in turmoil. Who knew when I would be able to return home after this departure?

I waved to my parents, then boarded the train, leaving behind the city where I had lived for more than ten years, and the parents who had cared for me for eighteen years…

After several days on the train, we arrived in Nanchang, Jiangxi. But we didn’t stay in Nanchang; instead, we were assigned to a poor mountain village called Jinzhou in the Yichun area.

The mountains there were unlike any I had ever seen before—one mountain range after another, stretching as far as the eye could see, as if the world was made up of nothing but mountains, with no plains at all. The mountains were covered with thick bamboo and trees, looking just like a primeval forest. The village of Jinzhou was located deep in the heart of these mountains.