Hu Laosan's anxiety was far from over; an even bigger problem had just arrived at his doorstep.
One day at noon, a procession of vehicles drove up the road outside the village. Leading the way were two three-wheeled motorcycle sidecars and a jeep, followed by a large truck. Behind the truck trailed six or seven men on heavy-duty bicycles. The entire group stopped at the village entrance. The people who disembarked were a mix of police officers—wearing large-brimmed caps, white shirts, blue trousers, and holstered pistols—and official-looking cadres in Zhongshan suits. The sight drew a massive crowd of curious villagers. A short while later, blood-curdling wails erupted from the dusty courtyard of the Hu Family's home on the eastern edge of the village.
