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Former Residence and Martyrdom Site of Wen Yiduo in Kunming
Kunming, Yunnan, China
In the spring of 1938, Wen Yiduo walked 3,500 li over 68 days as part of a student trekking group, arriving in Kunming on April 28. He sketched landscapes and recorded folk songs along the way. A scholar, poet, and democratic activist, he served as a professor at the National Southwest Associated University. To supplement his meagre salary, he carved stone seals, though he famously refused lucrative commissions from high-ranking officials who sought his work. By late 1944, he lived at the faculty dormitory at No. 8 Xicangpo, Qianju Street.
The summer of 1946 brought a heavy silence to the alley. On July 11, KMT agents assassinated his close colleague, Li Gongpu. When Wen returned home, his wife silently handed him a cup of hot tea while the family waited in terror. On the morning of July 15, Wen attended a memorial meeting for Li Gongpu at Yunnan University's Zhigong Hall. Angered by hostile agents whistling in the crowd, he stepped to the podium and delivered his "Last Speech."
That afternoon, after a press conference at the Democratic Weekly office on Fuyongdao, Wen walked home with his eldest son, Wen Lihe. At around 5:00 PM, just steps from his dormitory gate, gunfire shattered the quiet. Wen was shot multiple times and died on the dirt road at the age of 47. His son was severely wounded. His fourteen-year-old daughter, Wen Ming, knelt beside him, watching his lips turn from red to purple as his blood stained his wife's clothes. Later, four melted bullet fragments were recovered from his ashes.
Today, the dormitory grounds house the Yunnan Normal University Kindergarten, where children's laughter fills the air. Outside, a preserved brick-and-mortar courtyard wall stands near a 1.1-meter-high black marble monument erected in 1986, following an earlier memorial plaque installed in 1983. Along the 100-meter-long Xicangpo alley, the Red Candle Literary and Art Corridor displays his poetry, calligraphy, and seal carvings. Visitors touch the cold stone of the monument, feeling the weight of a scholar who chose to stay on a storm-tossed ship, trading his life for the promise of a democratic spring.