A Clean Wind Rises Over the Taihang Mountains: Following Them to Understand the Continuation and Inheritance of Red Genes

Recently, the author followed officers and soldiers of a certain station under the Naval Aviation University through the Taihang Mountains, reflecting on the continuation and inheritance of red genes——

**A Clean Wind Rises Over the Taihang Mountains**

■ Zhang Yidong, Yuan Yifeng

*In the 1960s, Red Flag Canal construction workers labored on sheer cliff faces as if "swinging on a pendulum." Photo provided by the Red Flag Canal Memorial Hall.*

Early summer in the Taihang Mountains: range upon range of peaks, all things competing to flourish.

Following the Zhuozhang River upstream, winding through a twisting mountain road, one arrives in an instant at a heroic land — Wuxiang.

More than 80 years ago, the Eighth Route Army General Headquarters was stationed here for an extended period. This land bore witness to the unyielding and courageous struggle of revolutionary forebears, and also bore witness to the people's army's enduring spirit of purity and honor. The smoke of battle over the Taihang Mountains has long since cleared, but the officers and soldiers of a certain station under the Naval Aviation University remain garrisoned on this land. On this day, the author joined the station's officers and soldiers on a journey to seek their roots, exploring the spiritual bloodline that has endured without cease on this land.

Rounding a bend, the vehicle stopped before the Eighth Route Army Taihang Memorial Hall. Before them stood a massive sculpture of the Taihang Mountain anti-Japanese war, and the atmosphere of beacon fires and a shaking land and rivers struck them full in the face.

Stepping inside the hall, two yellowed letters in a prominent position drew everyone to a halt. They were a loan letter and a family letter written by Zhu De, then Commander-in-Chief of the Eighth Route Army.

In the winter of 1937, Zhu De learned that his hometown of Yilong, Sichuan had been struck by famine and that his mother was living in hardship. Yet after more than ten years devoted to the revolution, he had accumulated almost no savings, and could only write to a close friend to borrow money. In the letter he candidly stated, "For these dozen or more years I have truly had not a single coin, and so it shall be in the future as well," adding, "This sum I also cannot repay you; please consider it a donation."

The other family letter was written by Zhu De to his relatives in the same year: "Henceforth it is not appropriate to spend useless money to come and see me; none should come except those who can fight and serve the nation." He went on to explain: "In order to uphold the good rules of the revolutionary army, I have never once asked for a single coin. Any idle person who comes will be difficult for the organization or for me to receive." These words, which seem almost unfeeling, conceal behind them a heart that sacrificed private interests for the public good. In 2016, Chairman Xi specifically referenced these two letters at a symposium commemorating the 130th anniversary of Comrade Zhu De's birth, saying: "The Commander-in-Chief of the Eighth Route Army, with his illustrious battle achievements, was so impoverished and so incorrupt — it commands the deepest respect!"

"As Commander-in-Chief of the Eighth Route Army, he never felt embarrassed by 'having not a single coin for more than ten years,' and said plainly, 'I have shared hardships with the soldiers for more than ten years — I am extremely happy.' We should also ask ourselves: do we have this kind of mindset?" After reading the letters, Section Chief Li of the station's finance section shared his thoughts with everyone. The finance section has a longstanding tradition: section cadres write a clean-governance pledge every year, read it aloud before everyone, and then post it themselves in a prominent position in the hall, voluntarily accepting the supervision of their comrades. "Every account handled, every receipt processed, must be worthy of the handprint pressed onto that clean-governance pledge," he said.

Carrying reflection and contemplation, the group continued eastward over the Taihang Mountains. As the vehicle passed through Hongtijuan Pass, the elevation began to rise, the mountains outside the window grew increasingly steep, and a canal of water like a silver chain threaded its way along the mountainside, glinting like scattered gold in the afternoon sunlight — the Red Flag Canal had arrived.

In the 1960s, the people of Linxian County, Henan, in order to change their harsh living conditions of depending on the heavens for rain, used hammers, chisels, and bare hands to carve out an "artificial river in the sky" through the sheer, knife-cut cliffs of the Taihang Mountains.

At the Red Flag Canal Memorial Hall, a set of figures filled the officers and soldiers with reverence: nearly ten years of canal construction; a project with a total investment of 68.65 million yuan; cumulative consumption of 123.5 tons of steel, 6,705 tons of cement, and 2,740 tons of explosives — and not a single incident of embezzlement or misappropriation of materials from start to finish, with the allocation of tens of thousands of tons of materials fully open and transparent throughout. The worn explosive crates and yellowed receipts in the display cases silently testified to the forebears' clean and honest character: "one chisel and one hammer to carve the mountains and rivers, one fen and one hao to guard the original aspiration (一钎一锤凿山河，一厘一毫守初心)."

Taking seats in the memorial hall's lecture theater, the officers and soldiers held a discussion around the theme of "how to let a clean and upright wind (正气清风) blow away unhealthy tendencies (不正之风)."

Discipline inspection officer Chai Lin recalled an experience from the previous year — while supervising the procurement of non-staple foodstuffs, he noticed that the price of a certain vegetable was slightly higher than in the past. He immediately retrieved that month's delivery receipts and then went to nearby supermarkets and markets to inquire about prices, ultimately confirming that it was a normal price fluctuation caused by seasonal factors.

In truth, a few extra jiao per jin of vegetables is inconspicuous within the overall food account, and some might feel it is not worth quibbling over a few jiao. But Chai Lin felt it was entirely worth it: "Even if each jin of vegetables costs only a few extra jiao per day, accumulated over time it becomes a substantial figure. And if you let a few jiao slide today, tomorrow you may let several hundred yuan slide." After visiting the Red Flag Canal Memorial Hall, his feelings ran even deeper: "In building such a massive project as the Red Flag Canal, they could account clearly for every single steel chisel consumed. In our use of funds, we absolutely cannot be 'roughly right' (大概齐)."

Is there the mistaken mentality of "others steal big, I steal small"? Is there the absurd notion that "public property is there to be used, so why not use it"? Is there the improper desire to use the convenience of one's position to run a "private abacus (小算盘)"? During the discussion, everyone raised problems without sparing anyone's feelings, pointing directly to specific individuals and specific incidents, and analyzed and reflected on whether their resolve to resist temptation was strong enough.

Faces flushed and brows sweating, but this "wind-chasing" journey was not yet over. The vehicle set off again and stopped before the ruins of the Huangyaidong Arsenal.

The old stone walls of the ruins were mottled, silent as ever. Political work section officer Ding Shuai noticed several regulations posted on the wall: practice diligence and frugality, eliminate all waste; those who fail to care for machinery and tools or who waste materials shall be penalized; absolutely prohibited is the theft and sale of tools and raw materials or their private transfer to others...

Upon further inquiry, everyone learned that there was also a story behind this notice. In the autumn of 1940, Yang Hongzhang, a munitions worker who had just arrived at the arsenal, was cleaning and swept a piece of high-speed steel the size of a fingernail from a lathe, mistaking it for iron shavings and discarding it. When the master craftsman found out, he rushed to the rubbish heap to search through it: "This was brought back by our comrades at the risk of their lives from enemy-occupied territory — it is more precious than gold!" They used every inch of steel and every gram of explosives where it mattered most, wasting not a fraction of public property, and it was precisely this that allowed the arsenal, starved of raw materials, to supply the front lines with a steady stream of high-quality weapons and ammunition.

"When it comes to integrity and clean governance (清正廉洁), merely not taking and not occupying is not enough." This self-discipline and dedication to the public good, etched into the bone, left Ding Shuai feeling no small measure of shame: "Sometimes we think that 'not taking and not obstructing' makes one a good comrade, but thinking about it now, if one does not calculate and economize to the greatest possible extent and feels no pain at wasting consumables, is that not another form of dereliction of duty?" Measuring themselves against the notice, everyone came to a deep appreciation that the spirit of the revolutionary forebears — "every fen and every li must be converted into combat power" — is the true foundation of purity (纯洁底色).

As dusk approached, the setting sun dyed the Taihang Mountains a scorching gold. On the return journey, the vehicle was considerably quieter than on the way out. Some scrolled through photos of exhibits they had taken on their phones; others were writing something in their notebooks. The upright spirit (盈盈正气) of those fiery wartime years had already filled the hearts of the officers and soldiers.