The Great Port of China

Liu Kezhong

Zhejiang Literature amp; Art Publishing House

April 2024

188.00 (CNY)

This book tells the story of three generations of port people represented by Liang Yunxiao， Yao Jianghe， and Ninghailou to develop a marine economy and build a strong marine province under the guidance of the Provincial Party Committee.

Liu Kezhong

Liu Kezhong is a former professional writer and screenwriter of the Land Force Creation Office of the Northern Theater Command， and member of the Chinese Writers Association and the Chinese Dramatists Association. He has won the “Five One Project” Award of the Central Propaganda Department， the Cao Yu Drama Literature Award， and the Chinese People’s Liberation Army Literature and Art Award.

No one understands the power of hatred; in fact， it permeates all moments of life just like love.

Liang Yunxiao， the son of a fisherman， had an especially intense love-hate relationship with the sea. The Haishan Archipelago floated in the vast sea like leaves drifting in the waves， with the fishing village of Luoyedao being the most precarious among them. To get from Luoyedao to the main island of Haishan took four hours by barge， and another two hours by boat to reach Ningzhou， which was connected to the mainland. In rough weather， the journey could last from dawn to dusk. Yet， Liang Yunxiao’s father， Liang Haisheng， along with the other villagers， was inexplicably confident， always talking about “l(fā)iving towards the sea.” To Liang Yunxiao， this so-called “l(fā)iving” was actually being forced to the brink of death by the turbulent sea.

The despair of that stormy evening was etched deeply in Liang Yunxiao’s memory.

In the Year of the Dragon of the new millennium， August， his father Liang Haisheng died.

The ten-thousand-ton ocean-going fishing vessel that Liang Haisheng captained hit a reef and sank in foreign waters thousands of miles away. The bad news arrived just seven days before Liang Yunxiao was to enroll at Donghai University of Transportation. His mother， Ding Chuncao， had planned a celebration for his admission， as he was the first child from Luoyedao in decades to be accepted into a national key university.

The Liang family had eagerly awaited Liang Haisheng’s return from the sea. However， the celebration banquet turned into a funeral in an instant. Liang Haisheng’s body was brought back by Liang Yunxiao and his sixteen-year-old cousin Liang Bao from a neighboring village’s fishing boat freezer.

It was noon on a summer day， the sun glaring fiercely at Qianjiamen Fishing Port on the main island of Haishan. Ocean-going fishing vessels returning to port crowded the bay. Dockworkers in rain pants， sweating under the scorching sun， hooked chunks of frozen fish and shrimp from the conveyor belts of the freezer compartments. Liang Yunxiao and Liang Bao approached a five-thousand-ton fishing vessel in their barge. The captain was a man in his fifties with a dark complexion and a full beard. He patted Liang Yunxiao’s shoulder with a long sigh and said， “Come with me.”

The heavy door of the ship’s freezer compartment clanged open， releasing a wave of pungent sea odor and cold air. Liang Yunxiao shivered， sneezed three times in succession， and then followed the captain down into the freezer. The metal trays were filled with fish and shrimp frozen into blocks， neatly stacked in the ten-meter-long compartment. This ocean trip had been bountiful for the captain， the freezer packed with what he referred to as “gold bars.” The scales of the neatly arranged large yellow croakers reflected the light， glittering gold. Deep in the pile of frozen yellow croakers， Liang Haisheng saw an iron box covered with a cotton cloth. The captain lifted the cloth， and it felt like a sharp knife had pierced through Liang Yunxiao’s body， penetrating his heart， freezing his emotions， thoughts， blood， breath， and organs instantly. He stood there stiffly， wanting to cry， but his voice was also frozen in his throat. He stared blankly at his father Liang Haisheng， taking in everything before him. Liang Haisheng lay in an open iron box two meters long and one and a half meters wide， filled with crystal-clear ice. Liang Haisheng was solidified in ice. Despite the thirty-day journey across the ocean， the frozen block couldn’t conceal his innate pride， fervor， and defiance. His face， broad forehead， straight nose， and squared mouth， with a slight upward curve at the corners of his lips， although not particularly remarkable， were highly recognizable and remained vividly imprinted in Liang Yunxiao’s mind for years.

“Yunxiao， accept my condolences. We had no choice but to bring your father back this way.”

His cousin Liang Bao knelt in front of the iron box， kowtowing three times and weeping loudly.

“Uncle， my brother is here to take you home. Let’s go home.”

Liang Yunxiao seemed not to hear the captain’s explanation or Liang Bao’s wails. Mechanically， he reached out to touch his father’s familiar face beneath the ice. The biting cold penetrated his fingers and into his bones， but his entire hand still reached out. He hadn’t touched his father’s face since he was a child. Liang Haisheng， accustomed to being the boss on the boat， carried an aura of dominance and arrogance akin to a pirate captain， even his speech carried the salty tang of the sea. Liang Yunxiao had never been close to his father， whose imposing， stern face， always seemed like a cold shield， blocking their father-son relationship. At this moment， Liang Yunxiao’s hands touched his father’s body， feeling the cold seeping into his bones， spreading a piercing pain throughout his body. He began to feel heartache for the man frozen in the ice. During the long journey home， his father， Liang Haisheng， had lain in the freezing cold storage， crossing the Cape of Good Hope， drifting across the Indian Ocean， traversing the Pacific... The floodgates of grief burst open， and Liang Yunxiao clung to the enormous block of ice， crying out， “Dad!”

In front of the Liang family’s small white building， a crowd of fishermen had gathered. Lightning flashed， thunder roared， and heavy rain poured down， but the dark crowd stood still in the yard， expressionless like carved statues， letting the rain wash over them. They seemed to still be dreaming about the mirage that Liang Haisheng had painted when he raised funds to build the boat: a ten-thousand-ton ocean-going fishing vessel， proud and majestic， slicing through the waves in foreign seas， filling its nets with large yellow croakers that transformed into fluttering hundred-yuan bills， dazzling everyone. A year ago， in the same place， these people had gathered passionately with eyes shining as they listened to Liang Haisheng’s eloquent descriptions.