One day, Ah-Mei came to Taipei for a visit and mentioned to Ashan that her father was considering opening a shop in the city. She had come to scout potential locations and also to enjoy a few days in the city. Ashan’s mother invited Ah-Mei to stay at their home, suggesting that the bustling East District would be a good place to do business and that Ah-Mei could take her time finding the right spot. However, Ah-Mei politely declined, saying she had already arranged to stay with Dachuan.
Hearing Dachuan’s name, Ashan immediately asked, “Where does Dachuan live? I must see him! Oh, and how’s Ah-Tu? Is he doing well?” Ah-Mei responded in sign language, “Ah-Tu is working as a carpenter now, thanks to the skills he picked up during his military service.”
That evening, Ah-Mei took Ashan to Dachuan’s apartment. It turned out that Dachuan was working at a law firm and sharing an apartment near National Taiwan University with a few colleagues from out of town. Ah-Mei was staying in the room of a female colleague who was currently on a business trip.
The two old friends realized that it had been 16 years since they last met. Dachuan hadn’t changed much, though he had a touch of gray in his hair. Ashan jokingly remarked, “You’ve always stood up for others since we were kids. Now it looks like you’re out to fight for justice on a much larger scale.” Dachuan replied, “There’s far too much injustice in the world, but you grew up in a sheltered environment, so you might not see it.”
Ashan was puzzled. He reflected on his own life, from fleeing Hainan Island to settling in Taiwan, enduring countless hardships before finally achieving stability. With Taiwan’s rapid economic growth, advancements in education, and infrastructure development, life had improved significantly for many. So why did Dachuan still see so much injustice?
Dachuan asked Ashan, “Do you know about the February 28 Incident? Or how entrepreneurs exploit workers? How about corruption among those with privileges? Or the environmental damage caused by industry?”
Ashan admitted, “I’ve seen some pollution issues in Sanxia, but I’m not familiar with the other matters.”
Dachuan then recounted the tragic story of his father, who had been teaching in Taipei in 1947 when he was arrested by Kuomintang agents and disappeared without a trace, leaving Dachuan’s mother devastated and ultimately gravely ill. This triggered a memory for Ashan of an incident in Sanxia Old Street during his childhood when older kids nearly beat him up. Was it for the same reason?
“Yes, it was,” Dachuan confirmed. This only confused Ashan further. “You stood up for me when we were kids. So why do you seem so radical now?” he asked.
“It’s not radicalism,” Dachuan explained. “It’s about seeking justice for my father, urging the government to acknowledge and rectify the wrongdoings surrounding the February 28 Incident. It’s about seeking fairness.”
Ashan then raised another question: “If that’s the case, why did Grandpa Zhou rent a house to my family, who are mainlanders?” Dachuan replied, “I didn’t understand it at the time either, but I later learned that Grandpa Zhou was a scholar who believed in fairness and justice. He knew that not all mainlanders were bad people. In fact, Grandpa’s ancestors had also migrated from Fuzhou, Fujian Province, to Taiwan. When Uncle Lin introduced your family’s plight through the Fuzhou Association, Grandpa understood and decided to help. It was also a valuable opportunity for me to learn that it’s the event of February 28 we should seek justice for, not fuel hatred against mainlanders.”
For the first time, Ashan learned of such shocking historical events. Could it really be true that the military once massacred Taiwanese people? His father, a lifelong soldier, had always upheld the noble ideal of “protecting the country and its people.” How could the army have done something so outrageous? Though Ashan struggled to accept this revelation, he trusted Dachuan and knew he would never fabricate such a story. But it would take time for Ashan to come to terms with this troubling history.
有天阿美到台北來玩，告訴阿三她老爸有點想到台北來開店，叫阿美先來看看地段也順便玩幾天。阿三媽要阿美住在家裏，東區是個做生意的好地方，不妨住下來慢慢地找。阿美謝謝阿三媽的好意，表示已經和大川聯絡好了住在他那兒。
阿三一「看」到大川的名字，直問阿美：「大川住在那裏？一定要和他見個面。對了，還有阿土呢？他好不好？」，「阿土現在做木工師傅，多虧當兵時學了點手藝。」阿美用手語答道。
晚上，阿美帶著阿三去到了大川的家，原來大川在一家律師事務所做事。幾個外地來的同事在台大附近租了個公寓，阿美就住在一位出差女同事的房間。
兩人屈指一算已經十六年沒見面了。大川還是老樣子，只是有點少年白。阿三笑稱大川從小就愛打抱不平，這下可是要打天下之不平了。大川說道天下不平的事太多了，只是阿三生長的環境看不清這些不平之事。
阿三搞不懂，自己從海南島一路逃難到台灣，成長中歷經了不少苦難，現在總算安定了下來。台灣的經濟、教育、各種建設都有長足的進步，人民的生活也改善多了，為何大川還說天下不平的事太多了呢？
大川問阿三：知不知道二二八的事情？知不知道企業家剝削勞工的事？知不知道特權不法的事？知不知道工業污染環境的事？阿三答道：「污染之事在三峽已經看到，不過其他的事就不清楚了。」
大川把爸爸如何在民國卅六年 (1947 年) 於台北任教時，被國民黨的爪牙抓走，死了連屍首都找不到，媽媽後來急得一病不起的悲慘往事，訴說給阿三聽。阿三這才想起來小時候在三峽老街，差一點被大孩子揍的事情，那也是為了同一個理由嗎？
大川說是的。那阿三就更搞不懂了，大川小時候可以護衛阿三，現在長大了，怎麼反而變得這麼偏激呢？大川說：「不是偏激，是要為爸爸翻案，要爭取政府承認處理二二八這個事件的不當，是要爭取平反。」
阿三就又搞不懂，那周爺爺為什麼要租房子給阿三這一家外省人呢？大川說當時他也不懂，後來才知道爺爺也是讀書人，懂得是非公理，並非所有的外省人都是壞人，何況爺爺的祖先也是從福建省福州過來台灣的。林叔是因為透過福州同鄉會介紹，讓爺爺瞭解阿三家的遭遇而答應的。何況這也是一個好機會，讓大川明白不是所有的外省人都是不好的。以後要追究的是二二八這件事的本身，而不是再去製造與外省人之間的仇恨。
阿三第一次聽到這麼令人驚訝的史實，真的當時的軍隊屠殺台灣人嗎？老爸幹了一生的軍人，一直秉持著「保國衛民」的崇高理念。當時的軍隊怎麼會做出這麼離譜的事呢？不過阿三相信大川，他絕不會也不必要編造故事，只是阿三一下子不能接受這個事實。
