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【The Golden Corpse Amidst the Flames of War】 

He ran wildly through the darkness, unsure if he could catch up with her.
Now, everything was gone! His parents, his family, and his brother—all lost in the defense of Saigon.
His family were overseas Chinese from Cholon, Vietnam; they had always believed Vietnam would never fall, but that was unimaginable…
He ran, the night sky dotted with the sounds of artillery fire and the clatter of machine guns.
They had planned to escape to Jijing City in Dongpu, where their family owned a grain store.
Now, on the other side of the mountains, a group of North Vietnamese soldiers had captured a lone young woman; anyone could imagine
the fate that awaited her!
Two soldiers held down the girl's arms, her ankles were gripped by a man's iron-like hands, her snow-white thighs were
pulled high, and the man's erect penis was forcibly inserted into her virgin vagina…
At that moment, she almost heard the sound of her flesh being torn apart, but the men ignored her feelings. One
finished, and another thrust his penis into her vagina!
All twelve had their turn. The girl could no longer stand, but as they left, she whispered something, as if her ordeal
was not yet over.
Then, in the moonlight, the bayonets gleamed, and suddenly they stabbed down…
About fifteen minutes later, a burst of submachine gun fire rang out, and a row of people fell like dominoes…
The moon was setting.
He ran around for a while, then stopped to look around or listen.
They had agreed to meet near the border, and he didn't think she would break her promise unless something extremely unexpected happened.
The moon finally set, plunging the plains into darkness.
A twenty-year-old boy arrived in this desolate wilderness, fraught with danger. North Vietnamese and Viet Cong soldiers showed
no mercy to those fleeing abroad, especially the Chinese living within Vietnamese government-controlled territory, whom they treated with particular cruelty.
Just then, he heard heavy footsteps.
His first thought was one of joy! Someone was heading this way, and it was very likely her.
However, he immediately thought it unlikely, because the footsteps were very heavy; even a
tall man fleeing in the dark should walk quietly.
So he crouched down and looked back the way she had come.
A boy raised in turbulent times, his reflexes were quick; he constantly reminded himself that he was in danger.
The heavy, slow footsteps grew closer.
"Could someone be injured?"
Usually, injured people, with difficulty walking, make more noise.
However, generally speaking, an injured person would be panting, but they were less than fifty paces apart, and he heard no
panting.
He could now see a blurry figure, and he began to feel excited again, because the person's figure was like a woman's, even
very much like hers.
The closer the footsteps got, the more his heart pounded.
He was certain it was her, although her gait was strange, her legs seemed frozen and unable to bend, her steps heavy,
but within three steps, he was completely certain it was her.
He couldn't help but cry out in excited tears, opening his arms: "You…you…" and rushed to embrace her.
It was indeed her! He held her, kissed her, and sucked away the dried tear tracks on her face.
Only after a long time did he realize how cold and stiff her body was, and how sticky and damp it was.
He released her: "You...why aren't you saying anything?"
She stood there blankly, her eyes cold and unfocused.
"What...what happened to you?" She didn't answer, nor did she show any reaction.
"You, tell me, you're like this, you've probably suffered a great shock, you, say something..." He grabbed her hand
; it was hard and cold.
He remembered her hand had always been soft and limp; perhaps it was from fear that her whole body was cold.
"Let's go! You, although we are unfortunate, if we can cross the border to Cambodia, we will still be happier than those who stay
..."
But she stood still.
"Why aren't you walking? Are you too tired to walk?" She remained silent.
He thought: A person who has suffered a great shock might become mentally impaired!
"Come on, let me carry you for a while..." He squatted down, but she didn't lean on his back.
"Come on! Let me carry you." She still didn't move.
He looked back at her long robe, a sarong worn by Vietnamese women, like a Chinese cheongsam, with a very high slit reaching her waist, and
no trousers below.
"Is her lower body naked?"
He reached out and touched her legs; above the knees, she was still naked. Vietnamese women who wore sarongs always wore trousers.
Normally, if he touched her above the knees, she would brush his hand away.
Their friendship was deep, but they had never had a physical relationship.
Because she wasn't wearing pants, he deduced something terrible: in this chaotic world,
it was all too common for a single young woman to be raped by stragglers.
"Then she must have been raped, which is why she's become mentally unstable from anger and despair," he thought.
So he wanted to ask her, "Why aren't you wearing pants?" but swallowed the question back, along with some salty
tears.
"Try to be positive. These days, no matter what happens, you have to endure it. Come on! Lie on me, I'll carry you for a while
!"
"..." She stood still.
"Time is precious, we need to walk as much as possible in the night!" He had no choice but to put his arms behind her back and carry her on his back.
But her body remained stiff, making it extremely difficult to hold her up; one wrong step and she would tumble backward.
He took about ten steps when he suddenly felt her cool hands gripping his neck.
"Yes...yes! Hold on tight, or you'll tumble..."
But before he could finish, he felt her hands tighten their grip...tighten...
Because her hands were cold and hard, he immediately felt his face flush and his breathing become labored, and she continued to tighten her grip.
"You...what's wrong with you!" He felt increasingly uneasy.
He gasped, "Someone bullied you...you shouldn't take it out on me..."
He threw her down, she tumbled to the ground, but she still had her hand on his neck.
He struggled fiercely, because if he couldn't break free, he would be strangled to death.
Luckily, he flipped her over; her body somersaulted, so her hands and arms were twisted backwards, and with his struggle, he
finally broke free, but he stumbled back five or six steps, falling flat on his back.
He rubbed his neck, panting heavily, not knowing why. He felt it had just been terrifying.
He slowly approached, reaching out to grab her. He intended to pull her up and ask why she considered him her enemy.
But his hand touched a sticky, wet liquid.
"What...what is this?" he asked, reaching down again.
This area was her waist. His hand groped in the wet spot, finding a small hole. He
gently pressed his finger into the hole. "Ah..." he cried out in surprise. His finger had actually entered the small hole.
The hole was in her waist; his middle finger had penetrated about two inches into her flesh.
But then he noticed she was lying motionless on the ground.
He sniffed his finger; it smelled of blood. He took three steps back, trembling involuntarily.
No wonder she was so cold! No wonder she was so stiff! No wonder she couldn't speak, her eyes were fixed, and her legs couldn't
bend when she walked. She had been shot or stabbed; she was already dead!
His tears immediately welled up, but he felt it was too unfair. Everyone deserved to
die, except for the kind-hearted girl.
He approached, timidly crouching down to check her pulse, but it was already stiff; there was no beating.
He then touched her heart; it was cold and hard, showing no signs of life.
He sat down and wept bitterly.
He was still just a boy; he was only twenty!
But then, he lowered his hand in horror and looked down.
It was dark, but even up close, he could vaguely see her expression.
His heart sank; he suddenly realized her eyes were large and bright, as if she were smiling at him.
Laughing? Dead people laugh?
He looked down more closely and saw that it was indeed laughing, but because its jawbone was already stiff, it was difficult to open its mouth,
producing only a "clucking" sound. This twenty-year-old boy was truly helpless, only able to shed tears and feel sorrow.
Just then, heavy and chaotic footsteps came from the road, clearly indicating more than three or five people.
He immediately hid in a crevice in the rocks.
The shadowy figures lined up, gradually approaching, each with heavy steps and an upright posture, just like her walking
posture just now.
A chill ran down his spine.
He counted; there were twelve people in total, and he could vaguely see that all twelve were carrying guns.
Twelve men stood before her corpse. He stood three steps away, but even then, he could see their eyes were closed
. They stood motionless, silent, not even breathing.
His scalp peeled away layer by layer; he trembled uncontrollably, for for his age, his ordeal was too
horrific.
"Could it be more dead bodies?" The thought chilled him to the bone.
Suddenly, all twelve men opened their eyes simultaneously, their movements perfectly synchronized, not a second apart.
Their eyeballs were completely red, like a row of tiny, blood-red light bulbs.
And he believed those blood-red eyes were staring at him; he felt paralyzed, his entire body numb.
"Whoosh! Whoosh…" It seemed one of the twelve men made a "whoosh" sound as they walked into the crevice.
"Thump...thump...thump...thump..." The twelve men's steps were synchronized, heavy, as if the earth itself was shaking.
He experienced the feeling of being about to die; he couldn't shout, couldn't run, couldn't even move his body, seemingly
only waiting to be slaughtered.
"Whoosh..." The one in the lead, probably the squad leader, made another strange sound, and the twelve men immediately stopped less than
ten paces away from him.
"Dead...caught by the Viet Cong...not only will I not survive...I'm afraid I'll die a horrible death..."
"Whoosh!" Another strange cry, and eleven men took their rifles off their shoulders.
It was probably a rather outdated rifle.
"Whoosh!" The squad leader seemed to be giving an order again.
The eleven soldiers, with stiff and clumsy movements, leveled their rifles, all eleven muzzles pointed at
him.
"It's over...it's really over...she...wait for me...let's go together..."
At this moment, running was impossible.
"Whoosh!"
"Bang..." Eleven guns fired simultaneously, as if in one sound, but the impact was enormous, deafening.
Overwhelmed by the shock and terror, he fainted...
When he awoke, his eyes were still closed, and he felt shivering with cold.
His heart was pounding; he was being held by her. Her hands and body were cold, her face expressionless.
Around her, twelve armed soldiers surrounded her.
She tried to move to the left, but the soldiers there blocked her way; she tried to move to the right, but the same thing happened
. Neither direction offered an escape from the encirclement.
Suddenly, a surge of righteous indignation replaced his fear, and in her arms, he kicked a soldier to the ground.
But as he fell, he bounced back up like a roly-poly toy.
He screamed in terror and struggled violently.
She held him tightly, as if he were being held between cold stones.
As she carried him to the side, he took a gun from a soldier—a submachine gun—and
opened fire on five or six of the twelve men.
Two of them fell, the rest remained standing. He didn't know why some were afraid of guns while others weren't.
When he aimed at one of them in the heart, he saw him fall.
But he was out of bullets, and her arm suddenly loosened, freeing him.
He realized it was almost dawn, and he could see the twelve men clearly. They were all riddled with bullets, all to vital organs; clearly,
they were zombies.
He had heard that in the deep mountains bordering northwestern Vietnam and southeastern Cambodia lived the indigenous Gaoshan people,
a tribe with terrifying witchcraft. They believed that any man or woman who committed adultery in their cemetery would become a zombie, only
falling after their heart was destroyed.
Therefore, he guessed what had happened between her and these North Vietnamese soldiers: the twelve soldiers must have gang-raped
her first, and then killed her with bayonets. But soon, these North Vietnamese soldiers were shot dead by scattered South Vietnamese troops who had fled into the mountains
.
During the fall of Vietnam, many Vietnamese soldiers did not lay down their weapons and went into the mountains to wage guerrilla warfare, fighting against the communists.
He also realized that these zombies naturally wouldn't aim and shoot; otherwise, he wouldn't have had a chance to survive.
He grabbed another submachine gun and shot down the remaining zombies.
Just as he was about to turn around, his neck was gripped again. He looked down and saw it was her again, and was horrified.
The stiff, cold hand tightened its grip, and a "crunching" sound immediately came from his neck.
First, she was choking him from behind; he couldn't shoot her in the heart.
Second, even if he could, could he bring himself to do it?
This escape was his suggestion. If they hadn't escaped, perhaps she wouldn't have died, or if she did, it wouldn't have been so tragic.
Therefore, he felt a deep sense of guilt towards her; living only brought painful separation.
Finally, his legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground, but he still woke up.
When he woke up and found himself embracing her, he was initially shocked, but quickly calmed down. He felt this was a good arrangement
; he should hold her and let her rest in peace.
Her face had turned from red to purple, her eyes bulging, but he resigned himself to his fate. A quick examination revealed that she had indeed been gang-raped. Her genitals were severely lacerated and stained with blood, and her vagina was overflowing with semen, all indicating that she had been repeatedly violated and   ravaged
without her ability to resist .    He carried her body towards the border, encountering a few Communists along the way, all of whom he sniped.    Then, within Cambodian territory, he placed her body in a tree.    He went to Jijing and arranged for her remains to be transported back for burial.    Now, he is in Taiwan, doing business in Yilan.    [The End    ]

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