〈Fireflies, Fly On:The Nanzhuang Ri A-Guai Anti-Japanese Uprising〉3
by Chen Ching-Yang



Chapter Five: The Saisiyat Donghe Market

The ox-cart driver urged the yellow ox forward at an unhurried pace along the winding mountain slope. Seated on the rear of the cart were Ri Chang-Gui, Ri Mei-Lan, and Saku Nobuo. Their destination was Donghe Village, a Saisiyat settlement, where they were to visit the livestock farms.

On both sides of the slope, reeds as tall as a man’s waist were in full bloom, their white plumes forming a vast, pale sea, dotted here and there with patches of mixed woodland. This land had once been the slash-and-burn fields cultivated by the ancestors of the Saisiyat and Atayal peoples.

“Nobuo-kun, in a couple of days you will be returning to Zhunan District. I hope our arrangements during your stay have been satisfactory,” Chang-Gui said politely.

“You are too kind, Chang-Gui-kun. I have troubled you greatly these past days, and I am sincerely grateful,” Nobuo replied, clasping his hands in return.

“After you return, I hope you will put in a good word for our Lianxing Village,” Chang-Gui added casually.

“Of course,” Nobuo said with a smile. “This place is truly a paradise beyond the world—beautiful mountains and clear waters. It will be hard to leave.”

Chang-Gui straightened his posture, speaking warmly as a host. “Then it’s settled. If Nobuo-kun finds it agreeable, you are always welcome to stay here for a few more days whenever you wish.”

“Your younger sister, Miss Mei-Lan, is an excellent cook,” Nobuo said cheerfully, steering the conversation toward her. “Bamboo-tube rice, chili-mixed raw wild boar, grilled muntjac, and steamed Zun fish—these were all new to me. They opened my eyes and delighted my palate.”

“Nobuo-kun, you may only know my sister for her cooking and weaving,” Chang-Gui said with a knowing smile, “but her martial skills and hunting abilities—tracking and archery—are by no means inferior to those of young men.”

Nobuo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Miss Mei-Lan rivals men in every way. I truly admire her. Unlike me—I know nothing of boxing or archery, only a little superficial swordsmanship. It seems I ought to become her student.”

Mei-Lan waved her hand shyly, half in protest. “Mr. Saku, don’t listen to my brother boasting. In Lianxing Village, all young men and women must undergo three or four years of hunting and combat training before adulthood and pass the assessments. I’ve only trained for a year or two—my skills are still quite basic.”

Chang-Gui clapped his hands and laughed. “Ha! My little sister is just modest.”

Watching the siblings tease each other, Nobuo found it amusing and laughed as well.

As they talked, the ox cart arrived at the entrance of Donghe Village, surrounded by wooden palisades twice the height of a man. Seeing that the visitors were Chang-Gui and Mei-Lan, the guards immediately sent word inside.

The cart rolled into the settlement along the gently sloping river terrace on the right bank of the Donghe River. The grid-like streets were neatly lined with over a hundred adobe-and-thatch houses. Shops of every kind filled the streets: food stalls, farm produce, fruit, wild game, hardware and farm tools, clothing and fabrics, shoes and hats, cosmetics, herbal medicines and wines, deerskins and antlers, cattle hides, coffin shops, and barbers’ stalls—everything needed for daily life. Two to three hundred people moved about the streets, most dressed in Saisiyat and Atayal attire, mixed with a few Hakka and Minnan settlers, all busy purchasing necessities. Shopkeepers on both sides, familiar with Chang-Gui and Mei-Lan, waved to them in greeting.

“Chang-Gui-kun, this market is remarkably prosperous,” Nobuo said with enthusiasm. “Aside from the rather simple building materials, it looks no different from the streets of Zhunan.”

“Indeed,” Chang-Gui replied. “Nanzhuang is a typical mountain township—Tai’an to the south, Shitan and Sanwan to the west, Emei to the north, and connected to Luchang Mountain and Wufeng to the east. The Donghe market serves as the distribution center for Lianxing Village. Goods are abundant, affordable, and of good quality, which is why people from more than twenty surrounding villages come here to purchase their daily necessities.”

“Lianxing Village owns forests, camphor factories, and ranches,” Nobuo said confidently. “With such diversified operations, your business has been very successful. These favorable conditions make you an ideal partner for investment and cooperation with Mitsui.”

Chang-Gui’s tone suddenly changed, becoming earnest. “Ah… I deeply hope things will indeed turn out as you say—that Mitsui and Lianxing Village can truly become business partners founded on honesty and trust.”

Nobuo looked slightly surprised. “Why such a sigh all of a sudden? Does your village still harbor concerns about allying with Mitsui?”

“To be frank, Nobuo-kun,” Chang-Gui said, seizing the moment, “I know you to be upright and sincere. But among our elders, there is little optimism about cooperating with Mitsui. We still hold serious reservations about whether your company will truly uphold commercial integrity.”

Nobuo was puzzled. “Why do you say that? If both sides seek cooperation, honesty should be a given. Though my position in Mitsui is humble and my voice carries little weight, I would never tolerate欺压 or deception. Integrity is the foundation of conduct—without it, how can one stand in society?”

“Nobuo-kun, you are a principled young man,” Chang-Gui said, clasping his hands in apology. “I apologize for my earlier remark.”

“If you have concerns,” Nobuo proposed honestly, “then after I return to Zhunan, I will convey them truthfully to Director Miyamoto.”

Chang-Gui immediately waved his hands. “That must not be done!”

Nobuo grew even more confused. “Why not?”

Chang-Gui smiled bitterly. “If you report this honestly and Mitsui harbors no ill intent, Lianxing would appear suspicious and overly anxious. But if your company does have ulterior motives, your words might alert them and lead to even greater pressure on us.”

“Then what can I, Saku Nobuo, actually do to help you?” Nobuo asked seriously.

“All we ask,” Chang-Gui said, “is that you carefully observe your superiors’ movements. In time, you will understand that my words today are not groundless. If you are willing, you might discreetly send word should any development unfavorable to us arise, so we can prepare in advance. That would already be a great kindness.”

“I understand,” Nobuo replied firmly. “This I can do. I am no blind ox who cannot distinguish right from wrong. I will not be party to disgraceful acts.”

As they spoke, the ox cart passed beyond the market, and the view suddenly unfolded like a painted scroll. Before them lay a broad, gently sloping grassland divided into three fenced sections. The largest enclosure held sika deer, muntjac, and goats. To the east, nearer the foothills of Egongji Mountain, lush pasture watered by a tributary of the Donghe River supported yellow cattle and water buffalo. To the west, where forests stretched toward Xiangtian Lake, a smaller area housed wild boars, domestic pigs, and poultry. This was the animal breeding ground, where cattle and sheep grazed amid the swaying grass—a scene of pastoral charm.

At the entrance, guards pulled aside the barriers to let the cart in. Ri Chang-Fu, the ranch owner, and Ali Kumah, chief of Donghe Village, came out together to greet them.

“Welcome! Welcome!” Ali said, beaming.

“Uncle Ali, Second Brother, we’ve brought guests to visit the ranch today,” Chang-Gui announced as he stood.

After the cart stopped, the three dismounted. Nobuo reached out instinctively to help Mei-Lan down, but she moved with such agility that, bracing one hand on the side rail, she leapt lightly to the ground before he could assist. Nobuo stared in amazement, then clapped his hands. “What splendid agility, Mei-Lan!”

“Uncle, we’ll trouble you to guide us later,” Chang-Gui said with a respectful bow.

“Of course,” Ali laughed. “Come inside and rest with some tea first.”

The group followed Ali and Chang-Fu along a short stone path skirting the right edge of the pasture. A fence of rough-hewn camphorwood logs separated the path from the grazing fields. Nearby sika deer, hearing Mei-Lan whistle softly, gathered around her without fear.

“How friendly these deer are,” Nobuo said curiously. “They’re not afraid of people at all.”

Chang-Fu laughed. “That’s because they hear their wet nurse Mei-Lan calling—they’ve come over to fawn on her!”

Mei-Lan gently stroked the deer’s heads. Nobuo bent down excitedly and imitated her, reaching out to touch them, then grinned foolishly at her. When their eyes met, Mei-Lan grew shy and quickly lowered her gaze.

The guest hall stood on a slightly elevated, level terrace behind the market, covering roughly one hectare. From this vantage point, the view was expansive. A wooden palisade encircled the grounds, giving it the appearance of a large mountain stronghold, with four guards stationed at the gate. The main building, raised about three feet above the ground, was a classic stilted log structure, accessed by a broad wooden staircase. Inside were a banquet hall, meeting room, ten guest rooms, a kitchen, bathing facilities, and a guardroom.

They ascended the wooden steps and entered the hall.

The spacious banquet hall was warm and inviting. On the front wall hung mounted hides with heads intact—one black bear and two clouded leopards. Along the side walls were sika deer heads and the pelts of muntjac and goats. Large, vividly colored woven textiles displayed scenes of mountains, rivers, flowers, birds, beasts, and mythological tales. Ten massive log tables filled the hall, their surfaces polished smooth and oiled with tung oil, annual rings clearly visible. Bamboo vases on the tables held sprigs of orchids and aromatic herbs in shades of purple, white, and pink. The chairs, made from thick log sections, were heavy and solid. The scent of wood mingled with orchid fragrance, refreshing the spirit.

Everyone took their seats in turn. Two Saisiyat girls entered carrying trays of tea and delicacies, setting down the tea sets and five or six exquisite snacks before pouring tea. The cups were large bamboo cylinders engraved with floral designs.

Ali gestured politely. “Mr. Saku, please enjoy the tea.”

Nobuo was rubbing the bamboo cup in his hands. “What exquisite teaware! I’ve never seen anything like it. The porcelain cups of my hometown Kyoto are finely crafted, but their patterns lack the natural freshness of these bamboo carvings.”

Ali smiled and nodded. “The flowers and plants carved here are all local wild flora—please excuse their rusticity.”

“Not at all,” Nobuo said, lifting his head. “Some of these flowers, I don’t even know their names.”

“The one you’re holding is balsam. Mei-Lan’s is a one-leaf orchid, and Chang-Gui’s is purple flossflower,” Ali explained.

“I saw that purple flower all along the road,” Nobuo said happily. “And now I see the one-leaf orchid—it’s right there on the table.”

“Excellent eyes,” Ali praised.

Nobuo smiled. “This orchid has only a single leaf to accompany it—a red flower with a green leaf, like a loving couple. How marvelous!”

“The one-leaf orchid endures damp and cold and has a long blooming season,” Chang-Gui explained. “We regard it as a lover’s flower. One flower, one leaf, relying on each other—it symbolizes devoted couples who remain inseparable, bound by a shared fate unto life and death.”

“So it truly is a lover’s flower,” Nobuo said, deeply moved. “How romantic!”

Nearby, the Saisiyat girls were grinding dried tea leaves, peanuts, black sesame, almonds, pumpkin seeds, and other nuts in a ceramic bowl with a pestle.

“What is that in the bowl?” Nobuo asked.

“That is lei cha, a Hakka tea served to guests as a light drink before meals,” Chang-Fu replied.

“Lei cha?” Nobuo exclaimed. “I’ve heard colleagues mention it. I saw the bowl and pestle in Lianxing Village before, but I thought they were for grinding medicine.”

Chang-Fu laughed. “Surely you’ve drunk it already during your stay?”

He turned to Mei-Lan. “You must have prepared it for him.”

Nobuo quickly said, “Now I remember! At breakfast these past few days, Mei-Lan always brought a tray with a large cup of fragrant drink—that must have been it.”

“Good thing you remembered in time,” Chang-Gui laughed. “Otherwise my sister would have been wrongly accused of poor hospitality!”

Nobuo scratched his head sheepishly. “Yes—when it comes to food, I’m always forgetful.”

Ali raised his chopsticks invitingly. “Come, please enjoy the refreshments.”

On the table were plates of dried guava, ginger cookies, candied bayberries, millet crackers, glutinous rice mochi coated in peanut powder, and taro balls dusted with green tea powder.

Chapter Six: Nobuo’s Reasoned Stand

Miyamoto Takeo, Saku Nobuo, and Ōhashi Kiichirō were meeting in Miyamoto’s president’s office to discuss the cooperative development project with Lianshing Village. The three men sat separately in rattan chairs while President Miyamoto smoked a cigar, listening to Nobuo’s oral report.

“After a council meeting of their tribal leadership, Lianshing Village has in principle agreed to our proposed cooperation plan. However, they require us to submit a complete project proposal. Only after it has been reviewed and confirmed by their council will authorization be given for the High Chief, Ri A-guai, to formally meet with us at a later date to discuss the contract clause by clause. Once the negotiated contract is approved again by their council, it will be signed by the High Chief on behalf of Lianshing Village.”

Miyamoto raised his cigar and asked impatiently, “Does the signing process really have to be so complicated? Such a waste of time—it seems they’ve come well prepared this time.” With that, President Miyamoto picked up the fragrant tea on his desk and took a few sips.

Nobuo explained, “President, I believe these procedures are necessary. A cooperation contract is a serious matter. It’s only natural for them to act with caution.”

Miyamoto set down his teacup. “I’ve already asked Manager Ōhashi to draft both the proposal and the contract terms. They’ve been sent to the Taipei branch for review and should be approved by early next month.”

“President, I think the project proposal and the contract terms should be handled separately,” Nobuo said. “The proposal should be presented by us, while the contract terms should be jointly negotiated and drafted by both sides. This not only follows the procedure they requested, but is also the normal process for concluding a contract.”

Miyamoto raised his voice impatiently. “Saku Nobuo, I am the president. I know contract procedures better than you—there’s no need for you to teach me. The contract terms will be drafted by us, and the other side will accept them in full. We will not allow any bargaining. This is a new rule set by the Taipei branch, different from the mainland. You must understand that.”

“By your logic,” Nobuo reasoned, “this contract clearly will not be negotiated or signed on an equal footing.”

Manager Ōhashi smiled and lightly patted Nobuo on the shoulder. “Young brother, you still haven’t quite turned the corner. What the president means is that an ‘equal footing’ applies only on the mainland, not in Taiwan. This island is our colony. We are the rulers, holding absolute power and enjoying all the benefits. Even in business dealings, there’s no need to bind ourselves by talking about ‘equality’ with a weaker party. Do you understand now?”

Nobuo abruptly stood up, clearly disagreeing. “Manager Ōhashi, I have always respected you deeply, but on this matter, please forgive me—I cannot agree.”

He held firmly to his position, showing no fear.

Miyamoto angrily pointed at him. “Saku Nobuo, don’t forget you are employed by Mitsui & Co. and draw your salary from the company. Naturally, you must stand on the company’s side and act to protect its interests.”

“But honesty and good faith have always been the basic principles of commercial dealings,” Nobuo retorted more forcefully. “What we’re doing is not only bullying the weak, but this contract is essentially no different from fraud.”

At this, Miyamoto slammed the table and stood up, shouting, “You insolent brat! Do I need a junior like you to lecture me on such matters?” He then sat back down, his face dark, his anger still simmering.

“President, please calm down for now,” Ōhashi interceded, trying to ease the tension. “Nobuo is still young—he naturally lacks flexibility in his thinking.” Turning to Nobuo, he pulled him aside and whispered, “Brother, you’d better stop here. Don’t provoke the president further. He’s already furious—don’t pour oil on the fire.”

During the brief stalemate, Ōhashi kept winking and gesturing at President Miyamoto, signaling him not to let matters escalate further.

Still fuming, Miyamoto said, “Saku Nobuo, listen carefully. Once the proposal and contract are approved, you’ll go with us to Nanzhuang, get the contract signed, and that will be the end of it.”

Nobuo, unexpectedly stubborn, replied, “At worst, I’ll resign. President, I cannot go along with wrongdoing. In this matter, please excuse me—I cannot comply.”

Miyamoto flew into a rage, pounding the table. “What? What kind of attitude is that? And you’re an Imperial University graduate, no less—”

Before he could finish, Nobuo turned angrily, opened the door, and stormed out, slamming the wooden door shut behind him with a loud bang. The noise drew the attention of everyone in the office. Immediately, employees began whispering and discussing among themselves.

Ōhashi forced a smile and said, “President, be angry if you must, but don’t really do anything to him. The Saku family of Mitsubishi—those people are not ones we can afford to offend.”

Miyamoto stood with his hands on his hips and barked, “I know that! Scions of zaibatsu families—arrogant and out of touch, completely unable to appreciate how hard the pioneers had it when starting from nothing.”

Ōhashi soothed him. “After a few more years of experience and hardship, he’ll understand.”

Miyamoto’s tone softened. “That fellow is extremely stubborn. He might sabotage things later. I think we should replace him as liaison with Lianshing Village.”

Ōhashi waved his hand. “No—that won’t do. Changing personnel suddenly could alert them and arouse suspicion. Right now, inaction is better than action. Before the contract is signed, let Nobuo continue communicating with them to maintain their trust. At the signing, we’ll simply keep him out of it. After all, they can’t read Japanese in the contract—we can make some adjustments there.”

Miyamoto asked, “Tampering with the wording? If Nobuo finds out later that the contract was switched, with his temperament he won’t let it go easily.”

Ōhashi smiled confidently. “No problem. Just push the responsibility onto the Taipei branch—say it was an order from above.”

Miyamoto still hesitated. “Is that really okay? Nobuo’s background isn’t insignificant. I can’t afford to offend his father.”

“President, don’t worry so much,” Ōhashi said. “After all, the contract terms are drafted by us—this truly is policy from above. We’re simply following orders. There’s no reason for us to bear responsibility afterward.” He continued, “Once the contract is signed, all we have to do is wait for the Civil Affairs Department to issue an explanatory directive formally abolishing the former Qing-era Dakekan Reclamation Office and revoking Lianshing Village’s land-reclamation rights in Nanzhuang. Then we can legitimately take over their forests and ranches.”

Miyamoto exhaled in relief. “All right. What you say makes sense. We’ll proceed as you suggest.”

The following Monday at eight in the morning, Saku Nobuo walked into the office carrying two cardboard boxes without a word, his expression blank as he headed toward his clerk’s office. His appearance immediately caused a stir. Seeing the empty boxes in his hands, his colleagues knew he intended to resign, and they quickly gathered around him.

Some male colleagues offered gentle persuasion; others tried to reason with him calmly. The female colleagues, eyes reddened, hurried to stop him—several even began to sob softly. Nobuo himself said nothing.

“Nobuo-kun, please don’t act on impulse,” said Maruo Daisan, a few years older than Nobuo. “The president is our elder. A few harsh words are for your own good. Swallow your pride and listen—don’t do something foolish.”

The young Kanzai Sawachi also grabbed Nobuo’s arm. “Yes, Nobuo-kun, don’t be stubborn. You get along so well with everyone here—how can you just leave like this? If you resign, we’ll all be heartbroken.”

“Brother Nobuo, I don’t want you to go—I don’t want you to go!” cried petite, delicate Hirose Ryōko, wiping her tears with one hand while clutching Nobuo’s right arm with the other.

Satomi Asami, with short hair, plain features, but an athletic build, also urged him gently, “That’s right. Everyone hopes you’ll stay. Please don’t make us so sad.”

A usually playful female colleague named Nakamori Koyuki, sensing the air was dry and tense, suddenly had a flash of inspiration. “Handsome Brother Nobuo, if you leave, this whole office will be nothing but a bunch of gorillas and raccoons!”

Her remark instantly cooled the overheated sadness. People froze for a moment, held it in for a few seconds, then burst out laughing one after another. Nobuo patted Koyuki’s head and finally smiled.

Hearing the mix of crying and laughter outside, Manager Ōhashi and President Miyamoto stepped out of their offices. Miyamoto stopped at the doorway to observe, while Ōhashi walked straight into the crowd.

“Clerk Saku, are you free to come back to my office with me now?” Ōhashi said, snatching the boxes from Nobuo’s hands and tossing them into a corner. He then tucked Nobuo’s right arm under his own left arm and dragged him into the manager’s office without regard for his reaction. Ōhashi closed the door and drew the curtains.

“Please sit.” He first tried to appeal to Nobuo’s emotions, hoping to dissuade him from resigning, then appealed to reason, defending President Miyamoto’s execution of orders from the Taipei branch. “The president has his difficulties—he must carry out policies from above. How about this: I’ll go persuade him to redraw a version of the cooperation contract you can accept, and you can take that to Lianshing Village. Then stop talking about resigning.”

That part seemed more acceptable to Nobuo. He finally spoke. “I never intended to push things to a breaking point. I was just angry in the moment.”

Ōhashi smiled and nodded. “Hearing you say that puts my mind at ease.”

Three days later in the morning, Miyamoto Takeo, Saku Nobuo, Ōhashi Kiichirō, and Maeda Shōgo convened a meeting in the president’s office.

Pointing to two files on the table, President Miyamoto said, “This one is the cooperation project proposal with Lianshing Village, and that one is the draft contract. You should all have read them carefully.”

Nobuo and Maeda replied, “Yes.”

Fixing his eyes on Nobuo while puffing on his cigar, Miyamoto said, “These are the revised versions we resubmitted for approval. Clerk Saku, before the second submission, I already had Ōhashi revise them according to your suggestions. You’re not going to quarrel with me again, are you?”

Nobuo did not answer, only smiled.

Exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, Miyamoto continued, “This draft contract provides fairly comprehensive protection for the other party’s rights. Before you depart for Nanzhuang, be sure to review it once more.”

With a relieved expression, Nobuo said, “President, thank you for handling this matter with such generosity.”

Miyamoto smiled wryly. “No need to thank me. Manager Ōhashi personally went up to Taipei the day before yesterday, bringing along the inspection report you wrote earlier, and persuaded President Fujii of the Taipei branch.”

Nobuo extended a friendly hand to Ōhashi. “Kiichirō-kun, thank you. How about coming to my dormitory for a few drinks after work?”

Ōhashi smiled. “Drinking is always welcome—no need for a special invitation. If you can understand the president’s difficulties, then my trip to Taipei wasn’t in vain.”

Nobuo asked, “What did President Fujii say at the time?”

Ōhashi replied solemnly, “The president also felt it was difficult. He said, ‘If this precedent is set, there will be endless trouble afterward.’ Still, your report vividly and thoroughly explained the pros and cons of the entire cooperation project, and the higher-ups took it seriously.”
In fact, President Fujii had never said any such thing—those words had all been fabricated by Ōhashi in advance.

Nobuo said modestly, “It was nothing. I merely detailed in the report what I actually observed during my time in Lianshing Village. Facing a community with a tight organization, clear division of labor among villages, and harmonious relations among its members, we really cannot act by force. Only by using conciliatory methods and gaining their trust can we avoid provoking resistance.”

Ōhashi added, “The president asked me to convey a message to you: ‘This time only—there will be no next time.’ You should understand what he means.”

Nobuo said thoughtfully, “I understand. But I hope that honesty and good faith will not apply only when dealing with Lianshing Village, but to every client our company serves.”

Ōhashi sighed deliberately. “That may be difficult, Saku-kun. Do you remember what you said before leaving my office that day? You said: ‘It is precisely because of demons like you who devour people without leaving bones that countless tragedies occur one after another—and that is what creates tragic heroes like me, battered and bleeding, even willing to sacrifice themselves.’ Those words were like a bell at dawn and dusk; their echoes still pound in my mind. Business is like war—victory depends on skill. While I don’t believe my views harm the world’s virtues, I don’t want to give you a chance to become a tragic hero who sacrifices himself. Tragic heroes are endlessly remembered by emotionally fragile people, while the victors receive no applause or cheers.”

Hearing Ōhashi’s roundabout complaint, Nobuo felt somewhat apologetic. “I believe victors will receive the applause they deserve—if the means they employ conform to universal moral values.”

Assistant Manager Maeda, who had been listening quietly, smiled. “Nobuo-kun, your character is more like that of a philanthropist than a businessman.”

“That my character is more like a philanthropist than a businessman…” Nobuo repeated inwardly, then said aloud, “Perhaps. I simply cannot take away the last coin from the poor.”

Maeda sighed softly. “Ah—such a compassionate heart. Though your views may be somewhat impractical, they truly move me.”

Miyamoto waved the cigar in his hand. “All right, young men—pull yourselves together. Let’s focus on getting real work done. Enough with the sentimentality.”

Chapter Seven: A Friend’s Counsel

An ox cart moved slowly along the winding mountain road toward Shili-xing Settlement in Nanzhuang. Seated on the cart, Ri Chang-gui and Saku Nobuo were deep in conversation. Fallen leaves carpeted both sides of the road, and clusters of crimson maples swayed in the cool breeze, like blazing flames flickering gently in the wind.

With a hint of melancholy on his face, Nobuo said,
“Chang-gui, your foresight was uncanny. On this trip back to Zhunan, I discovered that Mitsui & Co. truly intends to force your people into submission through an unequal contract. I feel deeply ashamed of this, though I have done everything I could to stop them from committing such a disgraceful act.”

Chang-gui reassured him,
“We already have countermeasures in place. This matter has nothing to do with you—you need not blame yourself.”

Looking at Chang-gui with concern, Nobuo continued,
“I had a verbal confrontation with President Miyamoto over this. What worries me more, however, is that even if Lianxing Village refuses to sign the contract, the company still has ways to pressure you into compliance, step by step.”

Chang-gui asked anxiously,
“What steps do you think they will take?”

Nobuo explained patiently,
“Based on internal information I have seen, the company may pursue two approaches. On one hand, they may petition the Hsinchu Prefectural Government to revoke the land-reclamation concession your village obtained three years ago from the Dakokan Land Development Bureau of the former Qing government. On the other hand, they may aggressively recruit Han settlers from southern Fujian, providing them with financial subsidies to enter Lianxing Village to reclaim wasteland and fell timber.”

The revelation shocked Chang-gui. His expression grew grave as he said,
“If that is truly the case, these actions will severely affect our livelihood.”

Nobuo said solemnly,
“If Lianxing Village takes action to expel these Fujianese settlers, ethnic tensions and conflicts will inevitably erupt. At that point, the authorities will likely use ‘maintaining public order’ as an excuse to formally establish police outposts in the Nanzhuang area, dispatch armed police units, and place you under constant surveillance.”

Hearing this, Chang-gui could not help but look distressed.
“So Mitsui & Co. and the authorities are indeed working hand in hand, just as we suspected.”

Nobuo sighed deeply.
“Alas… the situation is stronger than any individual. I strongly advise you to avoid direct confrontation with Mitsui & Co. whenever possible. Behind them stands the immense power of the authorities. Mitsui alone, with its vast financial resources, could overwhelm Lianxing Village—let alone the authorities, who hold power over life and death. When civilians fight officials, it is always the people who suffer.”

Chang-gui retorted,
“Must we simply allow ourselves to be slaughtered, letting them take whatever they want?”

After a moment’s thought, Nobuo replied,
“Not necessarily. You need not be so passive. You could outwardly show a cooperative attitude, while maneuvering carefully over the contract terms and the cooperation process. I will secretly assist you in this. At the same time, think carefully about how to respond to outsiders encroaching on your territory for settlement and cultivation. This may delay the authorities from finding an excuse to extend their reach into Nanzhuang.”

Chang-gui said bitterly,
“If they continue pressing forward step by step, a full-scale conflict seems inevitable. It appears that Lianxing Village has very few cards left to play.”

With deep concern, Nobuo said,
“This is precisely what I most wish to avoid. A full confrontation with the authorities would bring catastrophic destruction upon Lianxing. If you rise up in resistance, the authorities will not hesitate to unleash mass slaughter, regardless of how many lives are lost. This is truly the worst possible option—do not walk this road of no return.”

Chang-gui forced a helpless smile.
“I don’t want that day to come either. But you know—once my father decides to resist, no one in Lianxing Village can stop him.”

Nobuo sighed softly.
“Still… try your best, Chang-gui. At the very least, he is more likely to listen to you.”

Chapter Eight: Words of Love on the Forest Path

Saku Nobuo and Ri Meilan walked together along a shaded forest path in the Shili-xing plantation. Nobuo was dressed in traditional Saisiyat attire. As they strolled side by side, they talked quietly.

“Mr. Saku,” Meilan asked, “why did you come alone to Taiwan?”

“It was my father’s arrangement,” Nobuo replied casually, swinging his arms.
“He believes that young people benefit from experiencing the world.”

“Mr. Saku… do you like this place?” Meilan asked.

“Could you call me by my given name?” Nobuo smiled.
“Just as I call you Meilan.”

A blush rose to Meilan’s cheeks.
“I’m… not used to it.”

“Try it,” Nobuo encouraged gently. “Meilan.”

Lowering her head shyly, Meilan whispered,
“Nobuo.”

Nobuo smiled with satisfaction.
“I like hearing you call me that. It feels close.”

Looking up, Meilan asked,
“Nobuo, your Chinese is very fluent. Did you study it deliberately?”

Nobuo replied lightly,
“It runs in the family. The elders in my household all have a strong foundation in classical Chinese studies. My grandfather wrote Chinese poetry quite well.”

“Oh?” Meilan said with curiosity.
“So you were exposed to Chinese from a young age.”

“Yes,” Nobuo nodded.
“In Japan’s upper circles, using classical Chinese is a symbol of status. Especially in my hometown, Kyoto—where culture flourishes—Chinese writing is widely used.”

Meilan suddenly changed the subject.
“Why did you Japanese cross the ocean to come here and rule us?”

With his hands clasped behind his back, Nobuo pondered for a moment before replying,
“Meilan, that is a sharp question. I have been thinking about it myself. So far, I have found no answer that can truly convince me. I have always felt that we Japanese should not have come here as rulers.”

“You Japanese often deliberately display a sense of superiority,” Meilan said pointedly.
“That is what we cannot accept.”

Nobuo shook his head.
“That is not superiority—it is the pride of rulers, a kind of arrogance born from tasting a bit of power and success.”

Meilan smiled in surprise.
“Nobuo, your view is very different. Among the Japanese I have met, you seem unlike them. You make me feel that you are sincere.”

A trace of bitterness crossed Nobuo’s face.
“That is a false impression created by the Japanese who came to Taiwan. In Japan itself—the so-called inner territory—people are generally sincere and warm. Friends support one another, families value kindness and harmony, and merchants uphold honesty and integrity. These are virtues of our people.”
He explained this because he sensed Meilan’s poor impression of the Japanese.

Meilan asked hesitantly,
“Is that so? It’s hard to imagine. Perhaps a new environment has changed their thinking and behavior.”

Nobuo shook his head.
“Not entirely. I don’t believe I’ve been corrupted. Ultimately, it comes down to personal character and upbringing.”

Thinking of her people and their lives over the years, Meilan said,
“In the deep mountains, we only want a simple life. We have few material desires. We do not invade others, but we also do not allow others to invade us.”

Nobuo nodded in agreement.
“I understand how you feel. You are honest and kind people.”

“But you Japanese arrived with overwhelming military and economic power,” Meilan continued,
“trying to change our way of life.”

“No,” Nobuo protested gently.
“I believe our intentions were good—to use mature science and technology to help improve your lives.”
His thinking was simple; he truly believed this.

With a questioning look, Meilan pressed on,
“Is that so? We are content with a self-sufficient way of life. Most of us do not wish to change. Yet only months ago, in order to seize this island, you slaughtered thousands of islanders who refused to accept your rule. Was that also meant to ‘improve our lives’?”

Nobuo replied solemnly,
“I must admit those were grave mistakes. A civilized nation should never engage in such brutal massacres, regardless of the reason or purpose.”

They fell silent for a while. In that brief silence, Meilan sensed Nobuo’s kindness and purity of heart—so unlike any Japanese she had known before.

Nobuo, in turn, was deeply moved by Meilan’s wisdom and insight. He gazed at her with tenderness.

Shyly, he extended his hand.
“Would you mind if I held your hand?”
As soon as he said it, his face flushed.

Meilan turned away, lowering her head.
“What do you think?” she murmured.
“I’m afraid I might fall in love with you, Nobuo.”

Gently, Nobuo turned her back toward him.
“Meilan, to be honest, from the moment I first saw you, I couldn’t help but fall for you.”

Meilan looked up, her bright eyes fixed on him.
“Really? But you are Japanese, and we…”

“You mean there will be no future for us, don’t you?” Nobuo asked softly.

Meilan nodded shyly.

“Then forget that I am Japanese,” Nobuo said with a smile.
“Look—I’m wearing the Saisiyat clothes you wove for me. I don’t look any different from your people, do I?”

“But you can’t speak our language,” Meilan replied.

“I can learn,” Nobuo said earnestly.
“I’ve always been a diligent student.”

Meilan burst into laughter.

“These days, I feel that your father and brothers don’t seem to reject me,” Nobuo said happily.

Meilan smiled.
“That’s because your words and actions have convinced them that you are sincere and upright. We accept sincere and upright people as our friends.”

Holding Meilan’s hand, the young couple immersed themselves in the sweetness of love. Butterflies fluttered around them along the forest path, where dappled sunlight fell softly through the trees in the depths of late autumn.