Chapter 44: The Special Committee (11)

The rain grew lighter.

Sun Xiaoshan sat in room 607, recounting his life story to his elderly mother. The Sun and Li families were close, and his mother had long known the truth about Sun Xiaoshan's origins. She cared for him deeply, yet she listened to his story again and again, shedding tears alongside him.

Li Fengyi went out in search of Commander Liu.

He eventually found Commander Liu on the training grounds. Liu was striding briskly across the field, accompanied only by a single guard, trailing three to five meters behind him—one of the two guards who had come from the retirement home; the other had been transferred to a combat unit.

“Sir,” Li Fengyi addressed him with military courtesy, humbly seeking advice, “what’s the best way to begin political work?”

“Yes, the composition is very complex,” Commander Liu did not hide his thoughts. “Small business owners, intellectuals, shop workers, senior employees, the proletariat—they’re all here. Their backgrounds and interests couldn’t be more different. It’s hard to find a point of entry.”

“But,” Commander Liu raised his voice, “no matter who they are, they all face the same enemy. Zombies don’t distinguish between us; anyone who falls into their hands meets the same fate. That’s the perfect entry point.”

Li Fengyi thought of the ‘major weapon’—the grievance movement—and cautiously asked, “The grievance campaign is powerful, but wouldn’t it make everyone lose hope?”

“It’s not the time for that,” Commander Liu dismissed the idea outright. “Our strength is too weak and everyone is still shaken. If we’re not careful, people might scatter. The urgent task is to organize them, to give them a goal—even if we’re busy with trivial things, it keeps people from drifting. When minds settle and numbers grow, that’s when it’s time for such a campaign. The aim of political work isn’t to stir up panic, but to mobilize enthusiasm.”

“We have an even more important task first,” Commander Liu said with some anger. “The golden reputation we fought for has been sullied by some scoundrels from before the apocalypse. We need to clean it up.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll hold a ceremony to officially establish the Special Committee,” Commander Liu said. “Morale should be boosted, not allowed to flag.”

Li Fengyi looked up at the sky, where fine rain was still falling, and spoke his last words, “Who knows if the rain will stop by tomorrow.”

The rain did stop, in the middle of the night. At five o’clock, Li Fengyi opened his eyes. From today on, he would strive toward a single goal, whether willingly or not. He kissed Wang Shujuan, then got up, dressed, and left the bed. He paused outside his mother’s bedroom, picked up the half-body shield from the living room, tucked the short steel pipe into his belt, took the long steel pipe, and called Sun Xiaoshan, Li Qiang, and Commander Liu. The group exchanged glances in silence, then made their way downstairs, heading for the Special Committee office.

Their steady footsteps echoed below. At each sentry post, the guards saluted. Li Fengyi smiled at each of them, nodding slightly.

Wang Shujuan opened her eyes. She had awakened as soon as Li Fengyi did, but pretended to be asleep. She lacked the courage to see her husband off to a battlefield where life and death parted. She felt that if she didn’t send him off, he wouldn’t leave her, wouldn’t truly step onto the battlefield. She knew she was deceiving herself, but couldn’t help thinking this way.

The acting battalion commander had already assembled the officers in the Special Committee’s conference room. “As always, the leaders are bound to be a little late,” Li Fengyi thought, not without self-mockery.

When the committee members walked in, a sharp command rang out: “Attention, salute!” All the officers stood at attention and saluted.

Li Fengyi stood at the head of the table, taking his time before returning the salute. He carefully observed each officer, their faces heavy or youthful, their stances standard or not so standard. These were the people who would follow him onto the battlefield, fighting together in blood and fire. None of them flinched from his gaze, and Li Fengyi nodded in satisfaction.

He returned the salute. “Sit down,” he said. He recalled years ago, when Zhang Hanyu filmed “Water Margin,” and had prepared a departure exchange inspired by that. He’d arranged it yesterday; today, they would have this dialogue to boost morale. The soldiers found it awkward, but Li Fengyi thought, “We’re no different from those who accepted amnesty.” So he insisted on using the exchange. The survivors liked lively proceedings and, beneath the surface, were somewhat melancholy. Amid noisy agreement, the plan was adopted.

“Comrades, are your uniforms new?!”

“New,” “Damn, I forgot to send mine to the Civil Affairs Department for washing,” “Just changed, the 2007 camouflage, my favorite.”... The soldiers were stunned, lowered their eyes, twisted around to look left and right, and replied in a jumble. Then they glanced at each other, finally realizing what was expected, and answered in unison, “Fresh and renewed!”

“Comrades, are your weapons sharp?”

This time, everyone responded without hesitation: “Shields strong, spears sharp!”

“Comrades, will we win this battle?”

A loud shout rose: “Invincible in every battle!”

The windows shuddered with the force.

“Good. Let’s go to the training ground and assemble the troops!”

The acting battalion had already gathered on the training ground, the bright red military flag flying at the front. Company and platoon leaders surrounded the three committee members as they walked onto the platform. “Attention! Salute!”

“Comrades, you’ve worked hard!”

“For the people!”

Each unit then conducted a thorough inspection of their weapons and equipment, striving for perfection.

Li Fengyi had omitted the classic “Comrades, hello!” greeting; having just transitioned from civilian to soldier, he wasn’t quite used to it.

At 5:30, a call came through the radio: the people had been organized and were waiting in the courtyard of Mary Hospital for the ceremony to establish the committee and mark the departure.

Li Fengyi waved his right hand, “Form up, assemble at the Special Committee entrance!”

The survivors were all on the second floor of the committee building, watching through the glass windows as the soldiers lined up below, the fiery red flag waving. Excitement filled them—they were no longer isolated and helpless, the army was protecting them!

Though their clothes were a patchwork of styles—military uniforms from various eras, a few civilian outfits mixed in, rifles slung across their backs (not everyone had one), their steel pipes were uniform, cold galvanized water pipes, but their shields came in every color imaginable, featuring every kind of security door design available... Even if they were unarmed, they were still the army!

The steps in front of Mary Hospital served as the platform for the ceremony. Commander Liu was to present the flag, originally intended for Wang Shujuan, but Li Fengyi objected—lest it seem a family affair—so the flag was given to Sun Xiaoshan.

Sun Xiaoshan, representing the survivors of the base, took an oath to provide support to the army and to contribute to saving the nation from peril.

Later historians would debate whether Sun Xiaoshan, as the adopted son of Li Fengyi’s mother, blurred the lines between public and private interests. But at the time, Sun Xiaoshan received the flag as Secretary of the Special Committee Party Branch.