When he and his followers went out drinking to celebrate, he didn't know that the very step he had taken would drag him down into hell.

On the dry, exposed sandbank of the Luo River, 1948 slipped by, quietly bringing with it a swathe of enormous historical changes to the south. But for Bandit Ma and his followers, the 1948 they spent in their isolated, mountainous area was very different from the 1948 that appears in the official documents of the GMD Section B or Section H warlords. And again, when in later years the red county militia recalled a 1948 of overwhelming victory for the revolution, in which they launched a sudden machine-gun assault on Bandit Ma's few dozen "failed insurgents," their 1948 was very different from the 1948 that passed in Bandit Ma's isolated, mountainous area.

This is a dislocation of time.

: The bandits on either side of the Luo River each did things their own way. In relative terms, though, Bandit Ma stood out as the figure of greatest authority amongst these gangs: not only because his soldiers and horses were tough and strong, but also because he possessed mystical powers. He was a believer in the Blue Teachings, a sect of popular Daoism, and every day he'd perform the Daoist rituals, pay reverence at the incense table to the bodisattva Guanyin, make his subordinates sit cross-legged on mats and mumble incantations. Sitting like this for long periods would, apparently, pacify your heart, purify your spirit, deepen your understanding of the Dao, increase your strength. It was sitting like this that had cured him of his ten-year-long coughing trouble. And beyond this, there were regulations for sitting and standing wherever his cohort of followers found themselves; they'd abstain from food and drink for two days, then run, as if on winged feet, onto the battlefield to fight. Some told tales more incredible still of their fighting, that with their own eyes they'd seen them not bleed when cut, their flag resist piercing by bullets-all of which, of course, was thanks to their sitting on mats.

There was one more special thing about Bandit Ma's troops: they never wore shoes while on the march or in battle, and were exceptionally fleet of foot when climbing mountains or fleeing across ravines; nothing-neither sharp rocks nor iron nails-could hurt their feet. Ordinary people called them the "Barefoot Army" and said that every evening they had to chant the secret spells and incantations of the Thirteen Guanbao spirits before perfecting such art. This, Guangfu later told me, was exaggeration, of course. They went barefoot simply in order to be quicker on their feet: paper-mulberry juice and tung sapling were ground together into a paste, spread over the sole of the foot, reapplied after hardening and repeated several times over, until a crust tougher than the sole of any shoe had formed on the sole of the foot; his father had learnt this technique from the Miao people of Xiangxi, while traveling around in the army.

People marveled at this barefoot army. Wherever it went, there would be children or old women wanting to study their Daoist rituals and how to sit on mats. Naturally, some didn't sit in the right way and went insane after walking over fire or going into a trance. Bandit Ma urged ordinary people not to study from him, not to practice Daoism casually.

He said that a clear mind and temperate spirit were the most important elements in practicing Daoism, that you should follow the way of righteousness. At that time, grain was in critically short supply and everywhere gang members were turning to thievery. As soon as Ma Wenjie entered the city, he was waylaid by both men and women, young and old, all crying and complaining about injustices; some had had their money stolen, some had had their women stolen, and all looked to Boss Ma for justice.

In Changle, Ma Wenjie convened a meeting of the ringleaders of each gang; he'd let movable property go, he said, but human booty should be released, and grain and oxen had to be returned. When all the gang members saw this solitary figure tramp up in straw sandals to convene the meeting, without even a single soldier as bodyguard, not even a gun or a bullet on him, they were immediately struck by his aura of overpowering righteousness and had lost a good third of their nerve even before he'd started to speak. Some just stared until their vision clouded over, until a halo of white light appeared above his head, a purple cloud floating on top of that. Soon, everyone was nodding like idiots. Everyone sat at one table to drink, carved off a corner of the table as a pledge, then parted company and went home to enforce the agreement.

Bandit Ma also went by the name of Clear-Sky Ma. People said that Bandit Ma's troops asked for grain, not money, and didn't take anything away after they'd eaten their fill. In other words, wherever they went his followers were allowed to ask for food from ordinary people when they were hungry, but only for one meal; anything else they seized was viewed as harassment of the populace and would be punished once discovered. Once, having rubbed handfuls of tobacco ashes over their faces to avoid being recognized, two of his followers broke into the house of the head of the county middle school at night and robbed the head teacher's wife of two gold bracelets from around her wrist. A quick-thinking housekeeper in the head teacher's household scattered outside the threshold a bowl of wood ashes in which they left their footprints as they left; the next day, she asked Bandit Ma over to inspect the scene. Returning to examine soles of feet, Bandit Ma very quickly uncovered the two robber bandits and immediately imprisoned them in a cage. Both were locked in the metal cage for three days, their collarbones threaded through with metal wire, as an example to all, during which time the holes in their flesh where the wire had passed through rotted and began to smell foul. After this, one was burned alive, his body blazing yellow smoke, his skin crackling noisily. The other, who hadn't been the ringleader, received more lenient treatment: he was stabbed to death with a dagger, his corpse left intact-the daggers went straight in and out, without twisting. The blood spurted several feet high out of the hole the dagger made, dyeing red a large expanse of plaster wall nearby.

The two dead wrong-doers never begged for mercy, never cried out; not even a single groan.

That really was something! No one who witnessed it failed to be moved to admiration.

Even when the soldiers under Bandit Ma were avaricious, they were unflinchingly avaricious, and because of this, other gangs couldn't help viewing them differently.

From that time on, other gangs would never make trouble on whichever road Bandit Ma's soldiers took. If they guarded goods in transit, they wouldn't carry any arms, just walk alongside empty-handed. This was called "the guard of righteousness." When they came across members of other gangs, they'd exchange handshakes, mention the great name of Ma Wenjie, throwing in a bit of nomadic vernacular as they went, and thus turn bad luck into good, continuing peacefully on their way. Sometimes, people would be kind enough to leave food, to make a gift of a leg of beef or a couple of bottles of good wine, to establish friendship.