寒風從北方吹來，穿過一望無際的黑松林，發出低沉而悠長的呼嘯聲，宛如遠古野獸在森林深處發出的吼叫。
一個被獵人放棄的小木屋，孤零零地立在山坡上，四周除了森林，還是森林。離這裡最近的村莊，也在三十多里之外。
木屋中間有個一尺， 三尺見方的火坑， 裡面交叉堆著粗粗的松木絆子， 紅紅的火焰，驅散了屋子裡的寒氣。
火焰跳動著，發出輕微的噼啪聲。
青兒蹲在火堆旁，正用一把獵刀，削著一根松木棍。好像是什麼事讓她分了心。 她的手停住不動，神情若有所思，美麗， 嚴肅。
她穿著厚厚的羊皮襖，頭髮用一條藍布帶，在腦後扎成一個小馬尾。火光映照著她的臉龐，使她原本白皙的皮膚透出一層淡淡的紅暈。
誰也不會想到， 這個住在深山老林獵人遺留的舊木屋裡， 以打獵，採集野果為生的年輕女孩，一年前， 還是北京大學歷史系的高材生。
更不會想到，就在一年前，她還是北大女子籃球隊的主力隊員， 在球場上馳騁，被人們用羨慕、 愛慕、當然也有嫉妒的眼光注視著， 議論著。寒風從北方吹來，穿過一望無際的黑松林，發出低沉而悠長的呼嘯聲，宛如遠古野獸在森林深處發出的吼叫。
一個被獵人放棄的小木屋，孤零零地立在山坡上，四周除了森林，還是森林。離這裡最近的村莊，也在三十多里之外。
木屋中間有個一尺， 三尺見方的火坑， 裡面交叉堆著粗粗的松木絆子， 紅紅的火焰，驅散了屋子裡的寒氣。
火焰跳動著，發出輕微的噼啪聲。
青兒蹲在火堆旁，正用一把獵刀，削著一根松木棍。好像是什麼事讓她分了心。 她的手停住不動，神情若有所思，美麗， 嚴肅。
她穿著厚厚的羊皮襖，頭髮用一條藍布帶，在腦後扎成一個小馬尾。火光映照著她的臉龐，使她原本白皙的皮膚透出一層淡淡的紅暈。
誰也不會想到， 這個住在深山老林獵人遺留的舊木屋裡， 以打獵，採集野果為生的年輕女孩，一年前， 還是北京大學歷史系的高材生。
更不會想到，就在一年前，她還是北大女子籃球隊的主力隊員， 在球場上馳騁，被人們用羨慕、 愛慕、當然也有嫉妒的眼光注視著， 議論著。
火堆對面， 盧正鋼正伏在桌上寫字，桌子是用樺木橫木做的，粗糙且敦實。
桌上有一盞煤油燈，燈光昏暗，照著攤開的筆記本，紙頁上密密麻麻寫滿了字。
有些是人物姓名，有些是村屯名稱。還有一些是日期。
一九〇〇年七月，
海蘭泡，
江東六十四屯，
。。。。。。
盧正鋼停下筆， 揉了揉發酸的眼睛，看向發呆的青兒，
「還在想今天張爺爺說的事？」
青兒沒有抬頭， 就是 “嗯” 了一聲，聲音很輕。
盧正鋼點了點頭：「今天張爺爺說的那個死裡逃生的姑娘，倒是一位非常重要的歷史證人， 就是我們怎麼能盡快找到她，」
青兒放下小刀，望向火堆， 火焰在她眼中輕輕跳動。
「應該沒問題，」青兒輕聲問道：「張爺爺說的那個地方的大概方向我知道， 離這兒大概二，三十里，我們明天就去找她， 五十多年過去了， 這些親身經歷者已經所剩無幾， 大部分年老多病，我們必須抓緊時間，否則就來不及了。」
盧正鋼點頭同意。 他沉默片刻，說道 ：「張爺爺雖然不是親歷者， 但就是他講的，已經非常可怕。 想想看， 那是什麼場景， 俄國兵把人往江裡趕，男人不服就開槍打死， 女人抱著孩子跪下求饒，卻被俄國兵用刺刀刺死。 被逼迫趕進江裡的人，都被水淹死。 這得是什麼樣的惡魔， 才能幹出這樣傷天害理的事？」
盧正鋼說完， 已經氣憤的不行， 他讓自己冷靜了一會兒， 意猶未盡地說：“ 一九四五年那些到東北打日本人的蘇聯紅軍， 他們的老祖宗就是這樣一幫惡魔。 所以蘇聯紅軍在東北也沒幹好事， 強搶物資， 殺人放火， 姦淫婦女，也是無惡不作，罪行累累。 東北的老百姓一提起他們， 無不很得咬牙切齒。」
屋裡忽然安靜下來，只有松木燃燒的聲音。
青兒看著盧正鋼神色嚴肅， 沒有說話。
關於俄國人在東北犯下的歷史罪行， 她從小就聽爸爸， 爺爺講過很多很多。 可是盧正鋼提到的蘇聯紅軍在東北的所作所為， 她不是很清楚， 這些內容在報紙上看不到， 也沒有人敢公開講。
現在流行的都是蘇聯老大哥， 如果無私援助我們， 幫助我們搞建設。 但是她相信盧正鋼說的，因為他是個正直的人， 不會說謊。
外面的風忽然大了起來。吹得木門滋呀滋呀作響， 盧正鋼起身，把門又檢查了一遍， 從裡面用一根橫木，把門從裡面頂住。山裡野獸多， 謹慎一點好。
回來時，他看見青兒正望著牆上貼著的一張地圖出神。
那是一張已經泛黃的手繪地圖，紙張邊角早已磨損，上面標著許多地名。
海蘭泡。
瑷琿。
博爾多屯。
精奇里江口。
還有一個被紅筆重重圈出的地方，江東六十四屯。
盧正鋼知道，那是青兒最珍貴的東西，也是她被打成右派的重要原因， 證據之一。
因為她一直研究的，就是這段俄國人在東北犯下的反人類罪惡歷史。
這是在現在的政治大氣候下，很多人不願意提起的尷尬歷史。也是有些人故意要忘掉， 抹掉的歷史。
青兒忽然問：「正鋼。」
「嗯？」
「你後悔嗎？」
盧正鋼愣了一下：「後悔什麼？」
「退學， 跑到我這兒來，一起過野人的生活。」
火堆裡一根木柴忽然炸裂，幾點火星飛了出來。
盧正鋼笑了笑，那笑容很淡，卻很真誠。
「如果後悔，我就不來了。」
青兒望著他，很久沒有說話。
她知道：
眼前這個男人，為了自己，放棄了北京、放棄了大學、放棄了原本可以擁有的一切。
想到這裡，她忽然覺得鼻子發酸，於是低下頭，假裝繼續削木棍。
誰也沒有再說話，火光靜靜跳動，照著木屋，照著桌上的筆記本，也照著那張泛黃的地圖。
沒有人知道，就在距離木屋幾十里外的山下，已經有人開始注意他們了。
有人在問：“兩個右派，躲進深山老林，天天走訪老人， 記錄往事， 他們到底要幹什麼 ？」
而更沒有人知道，一場新的災難，正在悄悄地向這座木屋逼近。
（未完待續）A bitter wind swept down from the north, passing through the endless black pine forest. Its long, mournful howl echoed through the mountains like the roar of some ancient beast hidden deep within the wilderness.
An abandoned hunter's cabin stood alone on the hillside. Beyond it lay nothing but forest in every direction. The nearest village was more than thirty li away.
At the center of the cabin was a square sunken fire pit, about one foot deep and three feet across. Thick pine logs were stacked in a crisscross pattern inside it. The bright red flames drove away the bitter cold that filled the little cabin.
The fire crackled softly as the flames danced.
Qing'er crouched beside the fire, shaving a pine stick with a hunting knife. Something seemed to have distracted her. Her hand stopped moving, and she sat motionless, her beautiful face thoughtful and solemn.
She wore a heavy sheepskin coat. Her long hair was tied into a small ponytail with a blue cloth ribbon. The flickering firelight illuminated her face, giving her naturally fair complexion a gentle rosy glow.
No one would have imagined that this young woman, now living in an abandoned hunter's cabin deep in the mountains and surviving by hunting and gathering wild berries, had been one of the finest students in the History Department of Peking University only a year earlier.
Nor would anyone have guessed that only a year ago she had been a star player on Peking University's women's basketball team, racing across the court beneath countless admiring, envious, and even jealous eyes.A bitter wind swept down from the north, passing through the endless black pine forest. Its long, mournful howl echoed through the mountains like the roar of some ancient beast hidden deep within the wilderness.
An abandoned hunter's cabin stood alone on the hillside. Beyond it lay nothing but forest in every direction. The nearest village was more than thirty li away.
At the center of the cabin was a square sunken fire pit, about one foot deep and three feet across. Thick pine logs were stacked in a crisscross pattern inside it. The bright red flames drove away the bitter cold that filled the little cabin.
The fire crackled softly as the flames danced.
Qing'er crouched beside the fire, shaving a pine stick with a hunting knife. Something seemed to have distracted her. Her hand stopped moving, and she sat motionless, her beautiful face thoughtful and solemn.
She wore a heavy sheepskin coat. Her long hair was tied into a small ponytail with a blue cloth ribbon. The flickering firelight illuminated her face, giving her naturally fair complexion a gentle rosy glow.
No one would have imagined that this young woman, now living in an abandoned hunter's cabin deep in the mountains and surviving by hunting and gathering wild berries, had been one of the finest students in the History Department of Peking University only a year earlier.
Nor would anyone have guessed that only a year ago she had been a star player on Peking University's women's basketball team, racing across the court beneath countless admiring, envious, and even jealous eyes.
Across the fire, Lu Zhenggang was bent over a rough but sturdy table made from birch planks, quietly writing.
A kerosene lamp stood on the table. Its dim yellow light fell upon an open notebook whose pages were densely filled with neat handwriting.
Some entries were names of people.
Others were names of villages.
Still others were dates.
July, 1900.
Hailanpao.
The Sixty-Four Villages East of the Heilongjiang River.
...
Lu Zhenggang laid down his pencil, rubbed his tired eyes, and looked toward Qing'er, who was staring silently into the flames.
"Still thinking about what Grandpa Zhang told us today?"
Without lifting her head, Qing'er simply murmured,
"Mmm."
Her voice was barely audible.
Lu Zhenggang nodded.
"The young girl Grandpa Zhang mentioned，the one who escaped with her life—is an extremely important historical witness. The question is, how can we find her as quickly as possible?"
Qing'er laid the knife aside and gazed into the fire. The flames flickered softly in her eyes.
"I don't think it'll be too difficult," she said quietly. "I know the general direction Grandpa Zhang described. It's probably only twenty or thirty li from here. We'll go and look for her tomorrow."
She paused before continuing.
"More than fifty years have passed. Very few eyewitnesses are still alive. Most of them are old and in poor health. We have to move quickly. Otherwise, it'll be too late."
Lu Zhenggang nodded in agreement.
After a moment of silence, he said,
"Even though Grandpa Zhang wasn't an eyewitness himself, what he told us was already horrifying."
He stared into the fire.
"Just imagine the scene. Russian soldiers drove people toward the river. Any man who resisted was shot on the spot. Women knelt on the ground, clutching their children and begging for mercy, only to be run through with bayonets. Those who were forced into the river were drowned."
He shook his head slowly.
"What kind of devils could commit crimes so utterly devoid of humanity?"
The more he spoke, the angrier he became. He paused, forcing himself to calm down before continuing.
"And those Soviet Red Army troops who entered Northeast China in 1945 to fight the Japanese，their forefathers were the very same kind of men."
"They didn't behave well in the Northeast either. They looted supplies, murdered civilians, set fires, and assaulted women. Their crimes were countless. Even today, whenever the older generation in Northeast China speaks of them, they do so through clenched teeth."
Silence suddenly filled the cabin once again.
Only the crackling of burning pine logs could be heard.
Qing'er looked at Lu Zhenggang's grave expression but said nothing.
She had heard countless stories from her father and grandfather about the crimes committed by Imperial Russia in Northeast China.
But what Lu Zhenggang had just said about the conduct of the Soviet Red Army after the Second World War was something she knew very little about.
Those stories never appeared in newspapers.
Nor did anyone dare speak of them openly.
Everywhere people talked only about the "Big Brother Soviet Union"，its generous aid, its friendship, and its assistance in helping China build a new nation.
Yet Qing'er believed every word Lu Zhenggang had said. He was an honest man，He had never lied to her.
Outside, the wind suddenly grew stronger. It rattled the wooden door with a long, creaking groan.
Lu Zhenggang stood up, walked over, and inspected the door once more. From inside the cabin, he wedged a heavy wooden beam firmly across it.
There were too many wild animals in these mountains. It was always better to be cautious.
When he turned back, he saw Qing'er standing silently before the map pinned to the wall.
It was an old hand-drawn map, yellowed with age. The edges were worn and frayed, and countless place names had been carefully marked upon it.
Hailanpao.
Aihui.
Bolduo Village.
The Mouth of the Jingqili River.
And there, circled boldly in red, was one place above all the others:
The Sixty-Four Villages East of the Heilongjiang River.
Lu Zhenggang knew that the map was Qing'er's most treasured possession.
It was also one of the principal pieces of evidence used against her when she had been denounced as a Rightist.
For the subject she had devoted herself to studying was precisely this forgotten chapter of history—the crimes against humanity committed by Imperial Russia in Northeast China.
Under the prevailing political climate, it was a history many people preferred not to mention.
Others wished to erase it altogether.
After staring silently at the map for a long while, Qing'er suddenly asked,
"Zhenggang."
"Yes?"
"Do you ever regret it?"
Lu Zhenggang looked at her, slightly puzzled.
"Regret what?"
"Leaving the university... coming here with me... living like wild people in the mountains."
A log in the fire suddenly split with a sharp crack, sending a few glowing sparks into the air.
Lu Zhenggang smiled.
It was only a faint smile, yet it was utterly sincere.
"If I had any regrets..."
"I would never have come."
Qing'er looked at him for a long time without saying a word.
She knew.
The man standing before her had given up Beijing...
given up the university...
given up everything that might once have been his future...
Simply to remain by her side， the thought made her nose sting.
She lowered her head and pretended to continue shaving the pine stick in her hand.
Neither of them spoke again.
The firelight flickered quietly, illuminating the little cabin, the notebook upon the table, and the faded old map hanging on the wall.
Neither of them knew that, dozens of li away at the foot of the mountain, someone had already begun asking questions about them.
"Those two Rightists..."
"They've hidden themselves deep in the mountains."
"They visit old people every day, recording stories from the past."
"What exactly are they trying to do?"
And neither of them knew that another disaster was already drawing silently toward the lonely little cabin.
(To be Continued)
