The Legacy of June 4: A First-Hand Account of a Tiananmen Survivor
By Emily
Editor’s Note: This profile of a June Fourth survivor was written and adapted into English by a young activist, Emily, who participated in HRIC’s internship program. The English version is not a direct translation. To read the original Chinese, please scroll down. 后附中文版。
In June 2024, while guiding a friend through the June 4th Memorial Museum, I encountered two intriguing visitors. They spoke like old friends, though they had only just met. Both were recent arrivals to the United States: one crossed illegally through Mexico with his family, while the older man, having waited eight years, had recently immigrated through an investment visa. This man, let’s call him Li Feng, was also a witness and victim of the 1989 Tiananmen Square Massacre. After 35 years, freedom has finally arrived for him.
At first, I viewed Li Feng as a typical middle-aged entrepreneur from Beijing, but his progressive insights and self-deprecating humor quickly drew me in. He was not only deeply knowledgeable about Chinese history but had also been a witness of the June 4th massacre, and was later arrested. After several conversations, he agreed to an interview, and at the end of July, we met at a nearby park where he recounted his haunting experiences.
The Beginning of the Story: Walking into the Eye of the Storm
In 1989, Li Feng lived in Zhongguancun, near the prominent dissident astrophysicist Fang Lizhi, a leader of the 1986 student protests for freedom of speech and academic freedom. “I lived in Building 922, Fang in 916. They came for him, and soon after, they came for me too,” he said. But unlike Fang, Li Feng was simply a bystander. In April, he had first heard about student gatherings, and as a former participant in the 1986 student protests, he was intrigued. Wandering the campus of Peking University, he sensed the tension growing.
The Tiananmen protests of 1989 did not emerge in a vacuum. They were the culmination of a decade of economic transformation, political tension, and social awakening in China. Under Deng Xiaoping’s leadership, China embarked on a path of market-oriented reforms, which delivered impressive growth but also fueled inflation, corruption, and inequality. Graduates faced grim job prospects, wages lagged behind rising living costs, and many citizens felt disillusioned with a system that rewarded political connections over merit.
Against this backdrop, students and intellectuals rallied in Tiananmen Square in the spring of 1989, mourning the death of Hu Yaobang—a reformist leader seen as a champion of political liberalization. What began as a commemoration of his legacy quickly escalated into a movement demanding broader reforms: political transparency, freedom of expression, anti-corruption measures, and improved living conditions.
The Chinese government, led by Deng Xiaoping and conservative factions of the CCP, viewed these demands as an existential threat to their authority. What unfolded in Tiananmen Square was not just a confrontation over reforms but a decisive moment that would shape China’s trajectory for decades to come. As Li Feng traced back in his memory, he recalled that May in 1989 brought a pivotal escalation. On May 4th, Youth Day, Li Feng witnessed students debating whether to resume classes, a potential end to their strike. Yet the idea of a hunger strike transformed everything, led by student leaders, as it became a desperate measure to draw public attention and force the government into meaningful dialogue. The students, frustrated by the lack of progress and fearing their movement would lose momentum, decided to double down on their protest. As it began, Beijing slipped into a state of non-hierarchical order. Police vanished, and the people spontaneously organized, determined to support the students. Li Feng recalled, "Everyone around me supported the students. It wasn’t even a choice—there was only one side."
With little official information, rumors spread quickly: “Another student starved to death.” The growing public anger polarized them against the government. “These kids are starving, and Li Peng [the Premier] hides like a dead pig,” Li Feng remembered. The sentiment culminated on May 16th, when millions reportedly gathered on Chang'an Avenue in support.
Then came the declaration of martial law on May 20th in response. Li Feng recalled, “Curfew didn’t just mean staying in at night—even three people talking on the street was forbidden.” At that time, he mostly stayed home, observing how, in the absence of state control, Beijing’s newspapers dared to print the truth, filled with images of the unfolding events. In spite of the curfew orders, crowds were so dense that Li Feng couldn’t reach the square, noting with irony how tens of thousands of people somehow managed to find their parked bicycles amidst the chaos.
The Tragic Memory of June 3rd and 4th
On June 3rd, Li Feng heard a rumor that someone had been killed by a military vehicle in nearby Muxidi. Concerned, he and two companions decided to go out and see for themselves, despite warnings blaring from loudspeakers along Chang'an Avenue. Late that night, a face-off between crowds and soldiers intensified. Li Feng recalled, “The soldiers fired into the air at first, and people assumed these were rubber bullets. But when we didn’t back down, they aimed lower,” shooting into the crowd.
Chaos erupted as the crowd began prying bricks from the pavement to throw at the advancing tanks. “Bricks rained down, and bullets flew in every direction,” he recounted. Standing only a few meters away, Li Feng saw someone shot in the head, “Half his face gone—blood was everywhere.” Terrified, Li Feng and his friends crawled on their hands and knees, clothes soaked in the blood of others.
The next morning, he sneaked out, still haunted by the violence. He rode his bike to Renmin University, where students, bruised and shaken, shared their stories. When Li Feng described the horrors he had seen, the crowd became enraged. Elsewhere, people attacked military trucks, setting them ablaze. Near Weigong Village, he saw a child’s body in the back of a truck, riddled with bullet holes—a sight that deeply unsettled him.
Arrest and Detention: The Ordeal of an Innocent Man
Days later, on July 9th, soldiers came for Li Feng. Bursting into his home, they restrained his father and led Li Feng outside at gunpoint. “It felt like something from TV,” he recalled, as he was made to squat in the back of a military jeep surrounded by soldiers. They drove around aimlessly until dusk before finally arriving at a nearby police station. Inside, the interrogations began. When he said he was in Muxidi “just watching,” an officer barked, “Confess, and you get leniency; resist, and face severity.” Yet Li Feng insisted he’d done nothing wrong. Frustrated, the soldiers took him to a dark basement cell, where he survived on instant noodles, sleeping on a narrow bench. “I felt blind in there,” he said, describing how he had to rely on touch to navigate the pitch-black room.
Over time, he became acquainted with the guards, mostly young soldiers from the 24th Army. When he asked why they were beating people, a guard coldly replied, “When we came in, the people beat us. Of course, now we hit back.” The CCP had manipulated their psychology perfectly: the soldiers who’d been beaten felt justified in retaliating against innocent citizens. The guards occasionally showed sympathy, though. One day, a commander brought him a bowl of braised pork, which Li Feng called his “last supper,” breaking down as he thought it might be his final meal.
A few days after this encounter, Li Feng was unexpectedly released. As he was dismissed from the police station, Superintendent Zhang, an old neighbor of his, returned his belongings. Li Feng asked why he’d been detained, only for Zhang to coldly warn him, “People have been sentenced to 20 years for spreading rumors. Nothing happened here in Beijing—understood?”
Years later, Li Feng tried piecing together the full story of his arrest but found no records. The police had no documentation, as his arrest was conducted under martial law. To the authorities, he remained “politically problematic,” a label that blocked him from traveling abroad until 1995, costing him his relationship at the time.
In our two-hour conversation, Li Feng was surprisingly calm, recounting his traumatic experiences with humor and detachment. “I’ve died once,” he said, “and now, I have no more fear.” Yet, the events of that single month left scars that time hasn’t healed. Haunted by memories of bullets, bricks, and lifeless bodies, Li Feng lives with a fractured spirit, always one nightmare away from that blood-soaked night.
Reflecting on our interview, I later thanked him via text. His reply was simply: “Today’s talk brought it all back, like it’s still happening. I’ll probably have nightmares tonight.”
Echoes of Tiananmen
As Li Feng’s June 4th recollection has come to an end, I can’t help but wonder if the political and social environment in China has changed at all after 35 years. I think the answer is an emphatic no.
The Chinese government runs on a system that prioritizes stability and economic growth above individual freedoms and personal well-being, this was made clear by Deng Xiaoping even before the Tiananmen Massacre. The CCP prioritized rapid economic development as a way to maintain its legitimacy and offset calls for political reform. The approach emphasized stability through economic success, but it also fostered a highly controlled environment where dissent and political freedom were systematically stifled and human rights were not considered at all. This emphasis on stability and control has permeated Chinese policy ever since, as evidenced by the recent outcomes of the Third Plenum, a meeting where the party reaffirmed its focus on centralized authority, technological innovation, and economic self-sufficiency—all within the bounds of strict political oversight.
Today, the younger generation’s response to this system takes the form of the "lying flat" movement, a passive resistance to the unyielding demands of productivity, success, and conformity. Along with the related term “Bailan,” literally meaning “put out to rot” in Chinese. Bailan refers to the practice, increasingly popular among young Chinese, of actively embracing a deteriorating situation instead of improving it. Unlike 1989, where youth took to the streets in an open call for reform, today’s movement represents a quiet but unmistakable rejection of the state’s relentless drive for economic achievement. Faced with escalating expectations, including overwork, job insecurity, and the increasing costs of housing and living, young Chinese are “lying flat and put out to rot”—choosing minimalism and self-preservation over the endless pursuit of material success. Similar to the spirit that fueled the Tiananmen protests, “lying flat” represents a quiet rejection of a state-driven narrative that prioritizes economic output and societal harmony over personal agency and fulfillment.
According to a recent CaixaBank report, Chinese consumer demand has dropped as many citizens, wary of economic uncertainties, reduce spending ((Pinheiro de Matos 2024). The property market—a cornerstone of China’s economy—continues to falter as young people defer homeownership and focus instead on personal sustainability. Rising unemployment among recent graduates further compounds the challenges, as more youth question the promise of upward mobility and opt to disengage from what they view as a system tilted against them.
The “lying flat” movement represents a form of resistance that, while not as visible as the Tiananmen protests, is a direct challenge to the CCP’s vision of society. It signifies a lack of confidence in both personal and national futures. In an echo of Li Feng’s disillusionment, today’s youth view the state as an unyielding force, asking for their participation in a narrative that ignores their well-being. Comments on social media platforms like Douyin and Weibo show that “lying flat” is increasingly becoming an aspiration (Ni and correspondent 2022). These young people are not striving for self-actualization; they are preparing to disengage, seeking a lifestyle where state-level changes won’t bring them direct upheaval.
This retreat from traditional goals is evident in the rising preference for government jobs over private enterprise. For many, civil service offers a path to stability and “flatness” in a way that corporate ambition does not. The 2024 National Civil Service Examination saw 2.83 million applicants for fewer than 40,000 positions, meaning an average competition ratio of over 71:1 (Zhao and Wang 2023). This shift reflects young people’s skepticism of high-stress, low-security positions in private companies and their preference for the relative security of government work—even if it means minimal advancement.
The recent Third Plenum's agenda stresses innovation and technological advancement, overlooking the growing disillusionment among Chinese youth. In an environment where expressing dissent is perilous, young people are choosing to “opt-out” of a system they view as unsustainable and unyielding. While the CCP hasn’t publicly addressed the movement directly, the policies from the Third Plenum reflect attempts to control its economic impact. These policies are more likely a response to pressing economic and geopolitical issues—such as trade tensions, technological self-reliance, and slow domestic demand—than to the social movement itself. However, the “lying flat” movement and the government’s economic response are deeply intertwined: the disengagement of young people exacerbates the economic challenges the CCP is trying to solve, meaning the policies indirectly target the movement’s impact on economic productivity and consumer behavior. The persistent goal is very much present and the CCP seeks economic progress but within a framework that limits freedom of expression and suppresses deviations from state ideology.
Thus, Li Feng’s story of surviving Tiananmen Square offers a haunting parallel to the realities faced by contemporary Chinese citizens. Just as Li Feng and his peers bore the brunt of a government prioritizing control over reform, today's youth are experiencing a similar disconnect between state aspirations and individual aspirations. The cyclical tension between authority and personal freedom that began in 1989 remains alive today, embodying a form of passive resistance that reflects the frustrations of a generation unwilling to participate in a system that offers material success at the expense of personal fulfillment. The only advantage to this passive approach is that there will be no mass killing from the government.
The legacy of June 4th is not just a historical moment but an ongoing influence on how Chinese society navigates the pressures of modernity. The “lying flat” movement reveals the limits of a system that fails to address the deeper human needs for autonomy and meaning, while the methods of resistance may change, the core aspirations for freedom and self-expression remain constant.
一位北京市民的六四记忆
编者注：部分邮件平台可能会截断本文结尾。如遇文章突然结束，请前往www.hrichina.substack.com阅读全文。
引言：初识李峰
今年六月，我像往常一样带朋友去参观六四纪念馆时，遇到了两位特别的访客。他们彼此交谈甚欢，仿佛是旧友重逢。后来我们聊天时才发现，他们其实刚刚在纪念馆相识。两人都刚到美国不久：一位是一个月前带着妻子和孩子从墨西哥边境非法越境而来；另一位年长些的叔叔，则是经过八年等待，终于在上个月通过投资移民成功登陆美国。而这位叔叔，更是一位1989年天安门大屠杀的亲历者和受害者。这迟来的自由，终于在35年后降临到他的身上。
为了保护他的隐私，我们暂且称他为李峰。
初次见到李峰时，我对这位比我父亲年纪还大的叔叔，并且也是投资移民来美国的“国内企业家”，不由自主地贴上了“中年爹味男”的标签。然而，很快我就发现，他不仅精通中国历史，爱好写书，思想也非常前卫，言谈中充满了幽默和自嘲。瞬间，我对这位老北京大叔产生了好感，对他的故事更是充满了好奇，尤其是当他提到自己在目睹了六四屠杀，不是学生并因此入狱的经历时，我更加迫切地想要了解他的故事。
几次沟通后，他终于同意接受我的采访，并把他的故事记录下来。七月底，我们在纪念馆楼下的公园再次见面，他向我讲述了那段让他一生做噩梦的经历。
故事的开端：走进风暴中心
李峰的家当年住在中关村，邻居就是北大的方励之。当时他住在922楼，而方励之住在916楼。“先是一帮军人到他们家一通搜罗，没过几天就抓我了。我居然跟方励之成了一类人。”起初，我以为他被捕是因为他在广场上参与了策划或抗议活动，然而他却说：“其实到现在我都不知道自己为什么被抓。我只是个看热闹的。”
时间回到1989年四月，李峰第一次在新华门听说北京有学生聚集，人数已有几百人。作为曾参与过86学潮的人，他对此类事情极为敏感，心中隐隐感到一场风暴正在酝酿。从那之后，他常常去北大转悠，在校园里，这件事情像空气一样弥漫开来。
提到89学运，就不得不提到胡耀邦。对李峰来说，这个人并不陌生，胡耀邦虽然曾是中共最高领导人，但他也曾是中科院的党委书记。而李峰的父母都是中科院的科学家，他清楚地记得小时候，因四五运动，家门口的马路上曾有大标语写着“打倒胡耀邦李昌”。所以在北大听学生们提到胡耀邦时，他便明白了这件事的前因后果。
李峰第一次参加大游行是在北京大学的图书馆前，当时聚集了上千名学生，商量着要去天安门。李峰笑着说：“我也不知道为什么那阵儿老不上班，大家都推着自行车，跟着学生们一起走。”从北大出发时可能有两三千人，等到天安门广场时，已聚集了好几万人。
危机的爆发：5月和6月的紧张局势
随着五月的到来，局势迅速升级。李峰记得5月4日青年节是个转折点，当时他在北大听学生们讨论是否复课，大多数人认同复课的想法，因为在五四之前，已经与袁木谈判过，许多人找不到继续罢课抗议的理由。可就在讨论到绝食的那天，王丹等学生领袖坚持绝食，认为这是迫使政府对话的唯一途径。果不其然，89运动没有像87学潮那样无声无息地停下来，而是在绝食之后迅速升级，群众也开始介入。
李峰说，第一次看到大量群众介入就是因为绝食。绝食开始后，北京几乎处于无政府状态，因为所有的警察、街道管理人员和领导都消失了。整个城市仿佛变成了巴黎公社，而这一切都是自发的。那时，人们之间的关系变得特别简单，所有人脑子里只有一个念头，就是如何帮助学生成功。至于到底要成就什么，很多人说不清楚。我问李峰是否大家都是站学生这边，李峰斩钉截铁地说，当年不认识任何一个不支持学生的，根本不存在站边，而是只有一边。
当时老百姓对于整个事件的进展并不清楚，但当大批学生和青年在广场上绝食时，老百姓间的小道消息迅速传播，“又饿死了几个人”，比现在的互联网传播还快，把民众和政府彻底对立起来。“一帮孩子们要饿死了，政府都不管？李鹏最起码要出来给个说法吧，结果他像死猪一样都不见了。”李峰家住中关村，离天安门二十几公里，但那边的群众仍然能了解到前线的信息。于是他整天往广场跑，班也不上了，公交车也没了，整个城市陷入了暂停。没有人会问你不上班干什么了，因为大家都知道彼此在哪。每天都有乌央乌央的群众从北京的四面八方涌向广场。李峰回忆起一个画面，两公里不到的路他走了三个小时，可见人口密度之高。
这是整个运动中，老百姓第一次站出来声援学生，声讨政府。大约是5月16日的新闻联播吧，反正是某个官媒第一次报道了长安街沿线有数百万人聚集，而当时北京的人口不到一千万。能用上数百万这个词，至少也得有两三百万以上。减去老弱病残，年青壮年也就几百万吧。可以说，能出来的全在街上了。
慢慢地，李峰感觉到事情可能要出大事了，因为事态已经看不出如何收场。学校里也没人了，他在北大的“信息点”也没了，学生们能去的全在广场上，而他作为普通民众，也无法进广场。他唯一能做的就是在广场附近溜达溜达，表达一下自己对他们的支持。
下一个记忆点就是520戒严之后。戒严意味着军队入驻这座城市，开始实施宵禁。晚上不仅不能出门，街上也不允许三个人以上交头接耳。换句话说，只能两个人说话，任何形式的扎堆都有问题。那段时间，他也真的没有怎么出门，全是道听途说加上看新闻。
有意思的是，那段时间的北京各大媒体全部变得无比真实，“我活了快六十年了，人民日报也就那么几天说了点真话，因为没人管了。”报纸上整版的照片都是现场转播，在媒体上居然能看到当时的场面。他本人根本到不了现场，因为外面人山人海，连自行车都推不过去。过了人民大学往南两公里就是一个自行车“停靠点”。他觉得当年应该都有点特异功能，几万辆车全扔在那，大伙儿完事儿还能找着自己的车回家。
6月3日和4日的惨烈记忆
终于到了六四这一天，3号的时候他下午听说木樨地有个军车撞死了一个人。老百姓后来把军车司机抓住一顿暴揍，这时他已经有了一些不好的预感。他叫上他北大的表姐，还有一个同学，三个人就要出去看看，这时候天已经黑了，长安街上的广播不断警告市民回家，但无人理会。广播里丝毫没提到军队要进城，只是说了实施戒严，一切后果自负。但完全没有人回家，大家都想着要做点什么准备。当下决定去推公交车挡住军车来的路，几百人一起，这车好像没重量一样，一下就抬过来了。
天黑透之后，大概得十二点了吧。密密麻麻的人群在木樨地前后与军车对峙。这不是大家第一次与军人面对面交涉，但这次没人想到，军人居然开枪了。
“他们一上来就朝天开枪，我们都能看见子弹弹道。好多人还说没事别怕，这是橡皮子弹。”当时群众还对这个国家和政府抱有幻想，认为无论如何，人民解放军不会对人民下毒手。可当军车上的士兵看到大家不怕，枪口就朝地上打，子弹瞬间四散飞射，然后就有人大喊“死人了”。
大家立刻怕了，但更多的是愤怒。那时候长安街上的边道都是方砖，民众居然把方砖全扣下来了，每个人手里两块砖，往后退到公交车附近。军车成功开道，坦克紧跟着上来，后面还跟着卡车，大家就把砖头往车上砸。那长安街的华灯下，看着这些砖头的影子就像下雨一样。大家虽然趴在地上，但子弹飞过来也毫无遮挡，距离李峰三四米远的地方有个人就死在了他眼前。“那个景象很恐怖的，子弹打在脸上，半个脑袋就没了。我身上都还有血。”他和他的同伴都觉得要赶紧走，不然真的没命了。要开枪杀过来，那就是一个不留了。短短时间内，民众从认为他们不会开枪，到认为他们会把人杀光。
满天飞的子弹，开枪不眨眼的士兵，吓得魂飞魄散的李峰和朋友连滚带爬地从木樨地爬到了甘家口，才敢站起来。爬了多久已经完全不记得了，只知道衣服裤子全都破了，上面全是血，不知道有多少人的血。
回家后，李峰就被关了禁闭，他父亲把他锁在家里，不许再出去。但李峰怎么可能睡得着。虽然中关村距离木樨地已经十几公里了，他满脑子全是刚才机枪声和血腥场景，彻夜难眠。
第二天一早，趁着他父亲出门买东西的空隙，李峰又一次跑了出去。他拉上昨晚一起逃回家的朋友，骑车到了人民大学。门口的广播站下，学生们泣不成声，大家分享着昨晚的恐怖经历。李峰讲述了他在木樨地所见，激起了现场所有人的愤怒。刚好魏公村附近有个解放军艺术学院，有辆军车开出来，老百姓看见军车眼睛都红了。大伙冲上去把司机打了个半死，然后把军车点燃了。
也是同一个早上，李峰看到一辆北京的130卡车，类似美国的皮卡，里面有个小孩，大概七八岁吧，整个胸口都被打烂了，小小的尸体横在卡车后面。老百姓看到这画面全都哭闹不止。李峰这时已经有点害怕自己还会看到什么了，赶忙告诉同学还是不要去广场了。可这个同学胆子大，不服软，就是想看还能有什么丧尽天良的事情发生在北京城里。于是这两个孤勇者又经过了木樨地，这里已经是一片狼藉，千疮百孔。木樨地附近有个医院，李峰记忆里是复兴门医院。一进去右边是个大自行车棚，里面没有自行车，有几十具尸体吧。全都缺胳膊少腿，残缺不全。至于到底有多少具尸体，李峰当时的大脑已经不太清醒了。就像喝醉了的感觉，好像看见了，但又好像很模糊。他和他的同学全程没有说一句话，也已经听不见周围的声音。他感觉自己所有血液都冲到了头顶。
这时候有人说了一句：“要进去医院里面看看吗。”还没等进去，门口的医生护士就拦住了这俩人，赶紧把他们往外推：“你们俩别进来了，这里乱着呢！这帮孩子赶紧回家，一会儿军人来了都给你们抓走了！”
李峰和同学只好掉头回家。他自嘲道：“也不知道我们脑袋进了什么水，居然还假装淡定说‘咱俩要不去吃个早点吧’。”话刚出口，自己也觉得不对，还是赶紧回家吧。
他到现在都记得回家路上，满天的直升机在盘旋。当年的北京没有什么高楼，连三环都还没有，从北太平庄到中关村都是麦地。李峰在人大门口就能一眼看见学院路。他们骑车在路上，能看见远处一团团的黑烟，早上在人民大学门口烧军车时他亲眼看见了黑烟，也就是说，当时北京各个地方都有老百姓在烧军车。
到家后，他的父母暴怒，彻底把他锁在家里再也没让他出来。从那天开始，所有的新闻都变成了共产党腔调，人民日报和官媒昙花一现的真实报道已经不复存在，全天都在说“暴徒如何残害士兵”等等。
被捕与拘禁：一个无辜者的煎熬
在家关禁闭期间，李峰有过一次外出机会，大概是六四之后的两三天，他和父亲去小区里的82楼，那是一个百货店，再往前几百米就是马路。他在马路上发现每个路口都有三个士兵，背靠背对外端着枪，肃杀的氛围让他毛骨悚然。
当时老百姓们都觉得要内战了，军队全面入驻北京，战争即将开始。大家全都一股脑地去超市囤货，能买什么买什么，甚至连醋都没了。想想也是挺滑稽的，三十多年前就预料到了新冠疫情的景象。李峰就这么浑浑噩噩地在家里过了二十来天，听着新闻里黑白颠倒的重复信息，到后来开始抓人，全城通缉高自联的学生和“暴徒们”。
李峰在电视上看着这些学生和市民灰头土脸地被士兵押走，心里想着“小人得志！”结果没想到，没过几天，被押走的人居然轮到了他。
大概是七月八九号吧，有人疯狂敲门，李峰的父亲一开门，呼啦一下冲进来六个士兵，举着枪就把老爷子按在了墙上。全家人都一脸茫然，士兵开始问李父，李峰在不在。父亲指了指儿子，两个士兵瞬间把李峰架起来往外带。李父还冲他们喊：“干什么呀这是！你们轻点！他跑不了！”其中一个像军官的人走过来跟李父说：“你儿子是暴徒，我们要把他带走。”这帮士兵在李家翻箱倒柜折腾了一个半小时，根本不知道他们要找什么，最后什么也没找到。
前前后后六个人拿枪指着李峰。从四楼往下走，士兵们都倒着下，拿枪对着他，前面还有一个扛着大摄像机的人录像。“我靠，我一下就想起电视里那些暴徒！”
当时李峰想着，那些人都灰头土脸地被抓走，我要精神点，站直了腰，捋捋头发，昂首挺胸地被押下去。没想到出了单元门的那个景象更吓人。周围两栋楼并排，每个窗户上都有三四个脑袋在那儿看。楼的两边是一排排拿着枪的士兵，他们身后则是围观的老百姓。整个画面，和前几天来搜查方老师家时的场景几乎一模一样。
门外停着一辆军用吉普车，他们让李峰上车。吉普车后面的座位很大，李峰一上去就坐了下来，结果一个士兵过来给了他一记耳光，吼道：“你要蹲在中间，知道吗！”无奈之下，李峰只能蹲在车厢中间，双手抱头，四周的士兵们全都拿枪对着他。他居然还能在这种情况下与士兵开玩笑：“你们可千万别走火啊。”
吉普车一关门，李峰就完全不知道自己被带往哪里了。所有的窗户都被封住，车子绕来绕去，李峰记得其中几个士兵还中途下车，应该是去抓新的目标了，但并没有抓到人。直到天黑，他们才把李峰带到中关村派出所，其实就在他家门口。但从下午一两点带走李峰到晚上天黑，这辆车一直在路上绕。
这是李峰第一次进派出所这种地方，现在回忆起来，他被带进的是一个会议室，桌子对面坐着两个穿警服的警察，在李峰身后站着两个拿枪的士兵。两个警察一上来就问了他的所有信息，然后让他交代6月3号晚上去了哪里。李峰如实回答：“我去了木樨地。”他说自己真的只是去看热闹，什么也没干。
这时，一个警察站起来说：“我来介绍一下政策，坦白从宽，抗拒从严，你是想从宽还是从严？”李峰依然坚持自己的回答：“我真的什么都没干。”
警察看着他，要求他摘下眼镜并交出所有随身物品。所有东西都被装进一个牛皮纸袋里，包括他的口供。警察又问了一遍李峰有没有什么问题，李峰说：“没什么问题，我就是什么都没干。”
警察让他签字，并按下了十个手指的手印。至此，李峰莫名其妙地成为了一个有案底的“罪犯”。按完手印后，警察把所有东西收好，随即离开了房间。就在那一瞬间，“砰”的一声，枪托狠狠击中了李峰的后脑勺，他眼前一黑，随即失去了意识。下一个他记得的画面是两个士兵架着他，带到了中关村派出所对面的“四不要礼堂”。穿过一个幽深的旁道，他们把李峰带到礼堂地下室，开门把他扔了进去，咣当一声门一锁，李峰陷入了完全的黑暗。他笑着回忆说：“我当时脑子里想的就是，当年共产党那帮搞特务的，大概也就这样吧。”
在那个黑暗的房间里，李峰完全依赖双手来感知空间的大小，一丝光线都没有，时间也失去了意义。摸索了半天，他才发现房间里有一个板凳，每天的食物就是一包方便面，睡觉只能在这个不宽不窄的板凳上，因为地板太潮湿了。上厕所也只能随意找个墙角。当然，擦屁股这样的活动在那种情况下也被迫取消了。李峰第一次体验到盲人的世界是什么感觉，虽然看不见，但他却能精准地分辨出哪里可以睡觉，哪里可以排泄。
被打与审讯：生死边缘的煎熬
在被关押期间，警察曾对他进行过一次提审，但实在问不出什么，就把李峰带到了警察的宿舍里。我也是在这个时候才知道，李峰在被关押期间，遭到了士兵的毒打。警察苦口婆心地对他说：“咱俩岁数差不多，你如果有什么事儿你就如实说，不然总打你也不是个事儿吧。”虽然一直知道政府会对犯人用刑，但亲耳听到李峰的经历，还是让人感到不可思议。李峰不仅被打得整个后背都是黑青的淤血，也经常听到外面的通道里有士兵在用电棍电击其他犯人。有一次，透过外面的灯光，他从门缝里看到一个小胖子被打得胡言乱语。经常还会有犯人被带走，再也没有回来过。李峰的心理压力越来越大，他开始担心这些人是不是已经被枪毙了。
警察劝他如实招供，能少受些苦。可是他什么都没做，又能招什么呢？没想到那位警察告诉他，他的“同伙”已经全都坦白了。李峰自然不相信，提出要与对方对质。警察气得牙痒痒地说：“你等着。”然后把李峰用手铐绑在派出所外的一辆吉普车上，自己开车出去找那位“同伴”。过了大约一个小时，警察回来了，骂骂咧咧地说：“你小子嘴真够硬的！”然后又把李峰扔回到了礼堂的地下室。
生命的转机：突如其来的释放
不知过了多久，一个中关村戒严部队的团长走进了李峰的牢房。他举着一把巨大的手电筒，照亮了整个房间。李峰这是第一次看清楚自己所在的地方，那黑暗而阴森的环境令人窒息。令人意外的是，这个团长并没有表现出预期中的冷酷无情，他居然关心起李峰的处境，问他在这里过得怎么样。
李峰无奈地告诉他，自己每天只能吃方便面，牙都快嚼松了。让李峰没想到的是，团长竟然吩咐身旁的士兵去给李峰拿点吃的。那是一碗红烧肉，一碗李峰永生难忘的红烧肉。当这碗肉放在他面前时，李峰瞬间破防了，嚎啕大哭。他不知道，这碗肉会不会就是他人生中的“最后的晚餐”。
听到这里，我的心中充满了疑惑：为什么会有如此不公的命运降临在他头上？但李峰说，当你每天都在生死边缘徘徊时，冤不冤枉已经变得无关紧要，脑子里唯一的念头就是自己还能活多久，他们什么时候会下手杀了自己。
我想，也许在经历了士兵们的屠杀之后，他已经对这个世界产生了一种麻木和超脱的心态。只要能活下去，其他的一切都不再重要。
尽管李峰已经饿了不知道多少天，但他对眼前这碗“最后的晚餐”一口也吃不下去。团长语重心长地对他说：“小伙子，你眉清目秀的，怎么看也不像个坏人。有事儿就跟政府坦白，没什么大不了的。”说完，他转身离开了。
令人意想不到的是，几天后，李峰竟然被释放了。
在这个团长来之前，李峰已经和看守他的几个小兵混得熟络了一些。这些士兵常常在固定的时间过来和他说话，确保“犯人们”还活着。有一天，李峰试探性地请求他们带自己出去透透风，没想到这些小兵真的就带他出去了。在岗哨外，所有的士兵都在闲聊。李峰发现，这些人不过是些不到20岁的孩子，很多还是刚入伍的。他们来自承德的24军，也参与了殴打李峰和其他犯人的任务。
李峰对这些刚成年的年轻人非常困惑，问他们为什么要打人。小兵们给了一个骇人听闻的理由。
这支承德来的部队驻扎在八达岭附近，六月三号下午，他们集体到了学院路，一个人发了一件军用雨衣，沒有槍、沒有鋼盔只有雨衣。要求这支部队晚上十点在天安门集结。老百姓和军队之间已经发生了流血冲突，而这些后来到的军人成为了老百姓泄愤的目标。一路上，他们被老百姓打得抱头鼠窜，最后抓捕的任务落到了这帮被打懵了的士兵手里。
一个小兵冷冷地说：“我们冲进来的时候，老百姓把我们打成这样，现在抓着你们我们能不报复吗？”这种逻辑令人震惊，共产党无疑完美地利用了人类的心理，将每个角色精心安排，操控得天衣无缝。那些曾经被打的士兵，如今反过来对无辜的群众进行报复。
更不可思议的是，这些士兵的营地就驻扎在李峰被关押的“四不要礼堂”隔壁的足球场，一圈卡车围住了他们的营房。那碗突如其来的红烧肉，正是来自这些士兵的宿舍。在执勤结束后，这些士兵在开会时听到的信息全都是关于北京人有多么可恶的传言，比如某年某月北京老百姓给军队送饭，毒死了多少人等。虚假信息通过仇恨教育深深植入了这些年轻士兵的脑海中，使他们坚信北京的老百姓都是恐怖分子。
听到这些，李峰震惊无比。他忙不迭地辩解，说自己是个文化人，怎么看也不像个恐怖分子。年纪最小的士兵提出一个请求，问李峰能不能讲述一下北京到底发生了什么，因为他们只知道要来镇压，却完全不清楚事情的来龙去脉。这几个士兵为了确保安全，派了一个地位最低的小兵在门口放哨，其他人则认真地听李峰回忆过去两个月发生的事情。等他讲完，最年轻的那个小伙子愤怒地骂了一句：“他妈的！我要是在北京，我也得上街！”
李峰哭笑不得，这些孩子们之前只知道自己被打得很惨，但当他们了解了事情的真相后，居然也站在了首都人民这一边。
我听到这里，依然对那碗红烧肉充满疑惑。那个团长突然对李峰的友好，是不是和这些小兵的故事有关？李峰断然否定了这种可能性，因为这些小兵根本不敢和长官说他们和犯人有交流，更不敢透露他们知道了北京到底发生了什么。
到了放李峰出去的那天，这次不是拖着他走，而是军人举着枪给他开门，让他自己走。从礼堂原路返回到派出所，李峰见到了中关村派出所的张所长，也是他的老街坊。张所长把李峰之前被封在牛皮纸袋里的物品全都还给了他，并让他确认没有问题后签字离开。李峰不确定地问了一句张所长：“我没事了吗？”张所长说：“没事了，赶紧走吧。”
李峰走到门口，心里总觉得不对劲，于是又突然返回去问了一句：“所长，您能告诉我为什么被抓吗？现在又为什么放我？”张所长的反应至今让李峰印象深刻。听到李峰的提问，所长的脸色瞬间变得阴沉，训斥道：“你不想走了是吗？我告诉你，在你关押期间，东北有个叫肖斌的被抓了。就是因为他在北京看见了什么，回东北胡说八道！刚刚被判了20年！这里面发生的一切你都不能出去说，记住了吗？”
李峰一听，意识到这是赤裸裸的威胁，赶忙讨好地说：“行行行，什么都没发生！” 虽然他依然困惑，自己到底做了什么，怎么又突然被放了，但一句话也不敢再问。
走出派出所的大门，李峰看见父亲站在门口等着他。父亲什么都没说，只是看了他一眼，示意他上车。李峰感慨自己居然就这么活着回家了。他后来分析，军队抓人后联合警察不断审讯，如果问不出什么，也找不到什么证据，只能放人。
当我问到关押时长时，李峰自己也不记得到底被关了多久，他的母亲更是对此产生了记忆偏差。母亲认为李峰只被关了一天，但李峰知道，发生了那么多事，至少得有一个星期到十天。值得庆幸的是，他一直被关在礼堂的地下室，没有被转移到其他地方关押，证明他的“罪行”并不严重。
有意思的是，在李峰被放出来前几天，他迎来了一个狱友。这个人是民族学院的老师，比李峰大六七岁。两个人互相都不知道对方长什么样。聊到六四这些经历的时候，他问李峰为什么被抓？李峰说不知道。李峰问这个老师为什么被抓，老师也说不知道。两个冤大头互相嘲笑彼此，不知道北京城里还有多少像他们一样的冤大头。但他们至今无法解开这个谜团：如果只是因为他们目击了现场，军队又是如何找到他们家并把他们带走的？这是李峰至今无法理解的问题。
我问李峰，他那个一起去现场的同学有没有可能举报他。李峰说，那个人自从知道李峰被抓了，每天都在等着自己被抓，但没想到根本没有人找他麻烦。他甚至还觉得李峰太仗义了，居然什么都没说。李峰哭笑不得地说：“咱俩真的什么都没干，我说什么啊？”
很多年以后，李峰试图通过他认识的警察查出当年抓他的整个流程。找了半年，最后仍然没有任何资料。甚至找到当年的张所长，可张所长也什么都不记得了。因为当时抓人的是戒严部队，警察只是辅助调查，派出所连档案都没有。但对派出所来说，李峰这样的人一律是“政治有问题”的人，因为他被军队抓了。只要被抓，就是有问题。
因为这件事，李峰一直到1995年都无法出国，政审不通过。当年的女朋友也因为要出国而被迫分手。
在我们谈话的这两个小时里，李峰展现出一种让人难以置信的平静和幽默感。我几次感叹他居然能像讲别人的故事一样，轻松地讲述自己的悲惨遭遇。他自己说，他已经是死过一次的人了，心态早已放得不能再平。
1989年六月到七月的短短一个月里，李峰目睹了满天飞的子弹、被打碎的砖头，连滚带爬地逃回家，目睹了几十具尸体和被打烂的小孩，最后莫名其妙的成为罪犯。几十年过去了，他依然会做噩梦，永远无法摆脱这些景象。表面上侃侃而谈的他，背后又隐藏着多少次的突然惊醒和破碎的心理防线。
那天晚上我回家后整理我们的采访资料，给李峰发了一条信息表示感谢。他回复我说：“今天跟你说了太多，也想了太多，好像又回到了那个晚上。估计今晚要做噩梦了。”