Wuchang, one of the three towns of Wuhan, the land of Jingchu, is a waterway fortress on the Yangtze River, and since ancient times, it has been a battleground for soldiers.

When I was a child, I heard my father tell me that during the Baolu Movement, my grandfather was one of the people who participated in the overthrow of the Qing Dynasty, and the prelude before the Xinhai Revolution was the vigorous Wuchang Uprising. So reluctantly, I still have a little connection to this city, even though it's my first time here.

When the ship docked in Wuchang, the huge bridge in front of me made me fascinated. It is said that when the bridge was completed, Chairman Mao once wrote the famous sentence "A bridge flies north and south, and the moat becomes a thoroughfare". Before I landed, the middle-aged man who had been sleeping in the same cabin with me also began to pack his things, so I learned that he was also disembarking here. So, just to be on the safe side, I asked him a little about the local revolutionary struggle.

This middle-aged man, a native of Wuhan, told me that the three towns of Wuhan, Hankou, Hanyang, and Wuchang, are actually shrouded in conflicts of all sizes, but behind these conflicts, there are still two major factions. The form of this faction is almost identical to Chongqing's original "August 15" and "anti-to the end." In Wuhan, known as the "Million Heroes" and the "Federation of Workers", one faction is the superior number of pro-army factions, and the other faction is the radical royalist faction, and like Chongqing, their common purpose is to defend the leader.

The middle-aged man told me that he had traveled back and forth between Wuhan and Chongqing all the year round, and that he had actually seen these battles, but he did not expect that the form of Wuhan would be more severe and sensitive, after all, at the beginning of the revolution a few years ago, there was almost a vicious incident of kidnapping the leader, so although this incident was later calmed down, it made more people more and more lawless.

Before getting off the boat, the middle-aged man patted me on the shoulder and said, "Little brother, this is a mess, if you don't have to go, you should stay at home." If you have to go, be careful. After saying that, he patted me on the shoulder three times in a row, as a warning, and a farewell.

So from the time I got off the boat, I was always on guard, telling myself that I was just here to find Master, and I must not attract the attention of others.

Since it was already afternoon when I arrived, it was obviously unrealistic to go to someone with so much luggage at the moment. So I followed the address provided by Mo Langzhong and asked a local first. Since I landed in Wuchang and the address I was given was in Hankou, this meant that I had to cross the Yangtze River to Hanyang and then cross the Han River from Hanyang to get to Hankou. Because at this point in time, I had to walk to another pier to find the boat by crossing the river directly to Hankow, and by this time, the boat was out of service.

So I'm going to find a place to stay for the night, have something to eat, and then set out early tomorrow morning to look for it.

Along the wharf all the way up, on the winding path near the river, I found a guest house with a red five-star on the door. Due to the political environment at the time, private business was not allowed, and of course I mean the slightly larger ones like grocery stores, private vendors, as long as they are not the kind of people who are expected to make a lot of money, are generally more tolerant. Otherwise, they will become capitalist roaders, and they will pull the thighs of socialism. As a result, the vast majority of hotels and guest houses are opened under the system directly under the government or the military. The hygiene of the rooms in the guest house is worrisome, but for a traveler like me who stays for one night, there is not so much to worry about.

After opening the room and putting things down, I began to forage around. Although the political environment in Wuhan sounds much more severe than in Chongqing, it seems that the impact and damage among the common people is not serious. There weren't many people on the street, and many of the residents on the street had nailed wooden planks or quilts to their doors and windows, but on the whole, it was peaceful, and I didn't hear the sound of gunfire or arrest and fight all over the street. So when night fell, I walked down that winding street, and not far from the guest house, I found a supply and marketing cooperative canteen.

Because of its proximity to the pier, even though the streets are a little deserted, the cafeteria is still bustling with people. I rocked on the boat for a few days, and I had to rely on a boxed lunch every day to satisfy my hunger, and I really needed to eat something good. Although I am not a rich person, the money and tickets I have accumulated over the years are actually enough for me to squander very nourishingly. But when I saw the price list of "Wuchang Fish", I flinched.

So I fried a few dishes and a soup that night, and went back to the guest house and went to bed early.

The next morning, I searched for my way while inquiring, and at about lunchtime, I arrived at the busiest street in Hankow. Some of the houses here are different from the surrounding ones, and many of them are Western-style buildings. Later, I learned that because Hankou was corrupt in the late Qing Dynasty, like Chongqing, it was a city with open ports, and several countries set up concessions here. The architectural style, which was completely different from other places, gave me a sense of strangeness, but I didn't have time to linger long, so I told myself that I would get down to business first, and when I found Master, I would just take a few more days to explore here.

The address given to me by Mo Langzhong is a back alley away from the bustling streets, and like all cities, behind the bustle, there will always be some gathering places for people who seem to hate the poor. Those people are the so-called market, and for someone like me, who was originally a marketman, it seems more appropriate to walk through such a small alley.

According to the house number, I quickly inquired about the residence of that Qin senior. In the middle of a small alley, I stood in front of his house, and I could see through the whole alley to the left and right. On both sides of this alley, there are some small bungalows that look similar to this house, and they are next to each other, quite compact. The road is paved with stones, and the distance is only about four or five steps laterally, so this alley is definitely not open to traffic, but the bicycle passes behind me from time to time, and looking at the people in the car, it must be a guy who is in a hurry to take a shortcut.

The single-door wooden door, painted dark green, closed tightly. There was a small window next to the door, and the glass on the window was also painted dark green. So I couldn't see what was going on in the house, or even if the lights were on in the house. In front of the constricted doorway is a stepping stone about two inches high, perhaps because of the unique style of local houses, the foundation of the roof is raised a little to keep out moisture. On either side of the stepping stone, there were some potted plants, but almost all of them were dead, except for a cactus and a pot of evergreen.

It is a small bungalow that is only about two meters high, and the roof is not even paved with fired tiles, but wavy, large pieces of asbestos tiles. Since the old Qin senior heard that he was a person with a perverse personality and a mysterious whereabouts, I had expected a variety of ways to greet him before knocking on the door, and his address was provided to me by the old Jianghu in Mo Langzhong, compared to many seniors in this industry, I took a shortcut and found his place without much effort, but I always felt that all this was too simple, so with apprehension, I began to knock on his door.

Each time I knocked on the door, I knocked three times, and knocked more than ten times in succession, but still no one came to open the door. I don't know if I don't want to see guests, or if I'm not at home. Looking at the dust accumulated on the doors and windows, it doesn't seem like it has been unoccupied for a long time. So I thought to myself, I probably went out on errands, and maybe I'll be back in the evening.

So I found a place to stay again not far from the old Qin's house, after all, I believe that even if he is at home, there is no reason to keep me staying at his house. After a fuss in the room until the evening, I went back to visit. Because night fell, every household could know whether they had turned on the lights and through the cracks in the windows and doors, but the house of the old Qin seniors still felt dark, and it seemed that they were still not at home.

I'm a bit disappointed, I've been in the city for two days, and I haven't been able to do anything other than eat some local food and sleep in a bed full of fleas. But I didn't give up, thinking to myself that who didn't have anything to do, maybe too busy to go home too late, maybe I'll be back tomorrow.

So, I stayed in that guest house for three days in a row, knocking on the door every morning, noon and evening, but no one answered. I started to get a little restless and didn't know how long the wait would last. So on the evening of the third day, I wrote a note with my name and my master's name on it, as well as the place where I was temporarily staying, and told the old Qin senior in a pleading tone, hoping that after he saw the note, even if he didn't come to me, he would leave me a message.

But at night, trying to find a gap at someone's door to clip the note seems to outsiders to be a bit like a thief. Sure enough, when I was looking for a gap everywhere, a middle-aged woman's voice came from behind:

"Duckling, what are you doing sneaking around?"

The dialect of Hubei is relatively close to the dialect of Sichuan, and they all belong to the official dialect of the southwest, but the speed of Hubei speech is faster, and the tone of the voice seems to be more exaggerated than that of Sichuan, a bit like singing, and the lazy feeling of Sichuan dialect is still very different, but I can fully understand what others are saying, but I don't quite understand why she calls me a duck.

It's still a little frightening to be asked so suddenly in the dark. So I quickly turned around, and in the darkness I saw the figure of a middle-aged woman who was not tall, standing not far away, looking at me suspiciously.

So I quickly explained, Auntie, you misunderstood, I came here to find someone, and I couldn't find it for several days, so I just left a note. But the aunt said, didn't find it? The people in this house are there every day, how can they not be found?

When I heard it, I was surprised.