第十一章 (Chapter Eleven)

After the "August 13th Incident", the fighting in Shanghai grew increasingly fierce day by day. Ma Bole felt he could no longer remain. He packed his meager belongings and prepared to depart for Hankou. Ship tickets were exceedingly difficult to procure; he paid a steep price to secure a steerage ticket. Boarding the vessel, he saw it was crammed with refugees-men and women, old and young, all pale and gaunt. Ma Bole found a small patch of open space, set down his luggage, and seated himself upon it. As the ship sailed away, he gazed at the gradually receding Shanghai, a tumult of unnameable emotions welled up within him.

Along the journey, passing Nanjing, he saw throngs of refugees fleeing the war along the riverbank. This further steeled his resolve to escape the conflict. Upon arriving in Hankou, he found a modest inn to lodge in, intending to devise a plan later.

However, prices in Hankou soared as well, and his funds were swiftly depleted. Ma Bole began to rue his decision, thinking he should have stayed in Shanghai after all. But regret served no purpose; he had no choice but to press on and seek a solution.

He saw an advertisement in the newspaper recruiting clerks and went to apply. But upon arriving at the examination hall, he was met with a scene of over two hundred hopefuls competing for just two openings. At the sight, Ma Bole's heart sank. As expected, he was not selected.

He then saw a recruitment notice for tax bureau clerks and applied once more. This time, matters proceeded smoothly; to his surprise, he was accepted. Overjoyed, he went to assume the post. But within less than three days, he voluntarily resigned. The operation, however, was revealed as a sham; ostensibly collecting taxes, it was in fact a scheme to extort small merchants. Ma Bole found the practice utterly despicable and could not bring himself to continue.

Ma Bole remained in the small inn. As days slipped by, his purse grew ever emptier. His temper deteriorated sharply, and he would frequently lash out, cursing Shanghai, Hankou, the war, and those profiteering from the national calamity. After these outbursts, he still had to contrive a way to survive.

The innkeeper's wife came daily to press for the rent. Ma Bole had no recourse but to pawn his last sweater. When he received those few dollars, he stood at the pawnshop door, gazing at the bustling throng on the street. Suddenly, he was overcome by a loneliness and despair he had never before experienced. He wondered when such days would ever come to an end.