Yu Zhan’ao, the narrator’s grandfather, functions as a deuteragonist and a quintessential anti-hero whose life embodies the theme of The Thin Line Between Heroism and Brutality. He is a character of immense contradictions: a sedan bearer, a murderer, a bandit, a passionate lover, a devoted father, and a celebrated resistance commander. He develops through a constant navigation of a world where the distinctions between good and evil have collapsed. His actions are driven by a raw, primal life force that is both creative and destructive.

Yu Zhan’ao is introduced as a sedan bearer who defies a highwayman and captures Dai Fenglian’s admiration, establishing him as a figure of inherent strength and charisma. This initial act of heroism, however, is quickly complicated by his subsequent murder of Shan Tingxiu and Shan Bianlang, a brutal deed born of passion and a primitive sense of justice. He operates outside the bounds of conventional law and morality, establishing his own code in the lawless landscape of Northeast Gaomi.

Yu Zhan’ao’s character is deeply connected to the symbols of sorghum and sorghum wine. He is a product of the land, and his spirit is as untamed and potent as the liquor his family produces. His profane act of urinating into a wine cask, which miraculously enhances the wine’s quality, symbolizes his nature. He sanctifies through transgression, infusing the family legacy with his own wild, virile, and unapologetic essence. This act demonstrates that his power is derived more from an affinity to the elemental forces of his homeland than from social status or moral purity.

His leadership style reflects this primal authority; he commands loyalty through brute strength, audacity, and a shared history of struggle with his men. While capable of extreme violence, Yu Zhan’ao also possesses a capacity for deep loyalty and affection. His relationship with Dai Fenglian is founded on a powerful, mutual passion that transcends social norms. His bond with his son, Douguan, is forged in the crucible of war, where he is both a protective father and a harsh mentor who demands that the boy embrace the brutality necessary for survival. His grief over Dai Fenglian’s death and his despair following the massacre of his troops reveal the humanity beneath his hardened exterior. His trajectory from outlaw to commander of the anti-Japanese resistance showcases how the chaos of war can elevate figures from the margins of society to positions of legendary heroism without cleansing them of their violent pasts.

Douguan is the narrator’s father. He is a dynamic figure whose coming-of-age is brutally accelerated by the violence of his time. At 15, he is thrust from childhood into the adult world of warfare, joining his foster-father’s ambush against the Japanese. His initiation is marked by witnessing extreme brutality, from the skinning of Uncle Arhat to the massacre of his village. This relentless exposure to violence forges his character, stripping him of his innocence and forcing him to confront the grim realities of survival.

Douguan’s journey is a testament to the psychological toll of war on the young, as he is commanded to become a killer before he has fully become a man. Douguan’s development is characterized by a conflict between his innate boyish sensitivity and the harsh masculinity demanded by his father and his environment. His initial compassion is evident when he pleads with Yu Zhan’ao not to kill the Japanese cavalryman. However, this empathy is treated as a weakness to be purged, prompting Yu to call him a “fucking coward!” (174) The relentless violence Douguan endures gradually hardens him. He learns to wield a weapon and participate in the cycle of killing, his transformation mirroring the brutalization of the land itself. His relationship with his parents is central to his identity; he is the product of their legendary passion in the sorghum fields and the inheritor of their violent legacy.

The unnamed narrator serves an important role as both the primary storyteller and the heir to the traditions of Northeast Gaomi Township. As a narrator, he is an unreliable chronicler, openly admitting that his account is a blend of family legend, fragmented memory, and historical fact. This narrative framing is central to the theme of The Blurring of History, Myth, and Memory, as he prioritizes an emotional and mythic truth over strict chronological accuracy.

The narrator is the son of Douguan and Beauty, as well as the grandson of Yu Zhan’ao and Dai Fenglian. He addresses his ancestors directly, acknowledging his role in shaping their story. His narrative voice is subjective, filled with a mix of reverence, revulsion, and nostalgic longing for the heroic, brutal world his family inhabited. The end of the novel sees him being given the directive to cleanse himself of his urban corruption, echoing the root-seeking literary movement’s call to revive the traditions of regional culture in order to restore the plurality of Chinese identity.

Uncle Arhat is a static, round character who functions as a loyal retainer and mentor figure within the family. His defining trait is his unwavering devotion to Dai Fenglian and, by extension, to her son, Douguan. He serves as the distillery’s foreman, but his role transcends that of an employee; he is a trusted guardian of the family’s legacy and a grandfatherly presence in Douguan’s life.

Uncle Arhat’s wisdom is practical and rooted in the land, as seen when he teaches the young Douguan how to catch crabs and shares with him the “whispered secrets of the land” (8). Arhat represents a model of steadfast integrity and courage in a world of shifting allegiances and moral ambiguity. His loyalty is most powerfully demonstrated in his ultimate sacrifice. Conscripted by the Japanese to work on the highway, he injures the family’s mules to prevent them from being used by the enemy. This act of sabotage leads directly to his capture and horrific public execution. He is skinned alive in front of his compatriots, an event that becomes a pivotal, traumatic memory for Dougan and a catalyst for the community’s resistance. Arhat’s death is not passive; he remains defiant to the end, cursing his torturers and displaying no fear. This act transforms him from a simple foreman into a legendary martyr, a symbol of the profound suffering and indomitable spirit of the Chinese people under occupation. His character provides a moral anchor in the narrative, a figure whose loyalty and sacrifice stand in stark contrast to the opportunism of characters like Pocky Leng.

Pocky Leng serves as a primary rival and foil to Yu Zhan’ao, representing a more calculated and opportunistic form of military and political power. Whereas Yu Zhan’ao’s authority is primal and personal, Leng’s power derives from his position within a more formal military hierarchy, the “Wang regiment” (27).

Leng’s defining characteristic is his self-serving nature. He initiates the plan to ambush the Japanese convoy but deliberately arrives late, allowing Yu Zhan’ao’s forces to bear the brunt of the fighting so he can sweep in to collect the weapons and glory afterward. This act reveals that he is primarily motivated by the consolidation of his own power and resources.

The conflict between Leng and Yu Zhan’ao highlights the deep factionalism that plagued China’s resistance efforts. Instead of presenting a united front against a common enemy, they are locked in a struggle for dominance, territory, and supplies. Leng’s methods are more aligned with political maneuvering and formal military structure, which he sees as superior to Yu Zhan’ao’s bandit-style warfare. This ideological clash, however, is consistently undermined by his personal ambition, making him a symbol of the internal strife that was often as destructive as the foreign invasion itself.