As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Li Sanjiang carried Li Zhuiyuan back home.
Cui Guiying took the child in her arms. After exchanging a few words with Li Weihan, Li Sanjiang left.
Li Zhuiyuan was settled onto a simple straw bed, his eyes closed for a moment before fluttering open again.
He couldn’t fall asleep. Whenever he shut his eyes, he saw the little yellow oriole dancing in the fish pond.
Cui Guiying and Li Weihan hadn’t gone into the inner room to rest, instead, they sat in the kitchen.
The woman rubbed her fingers together, making them red; the man kept drawing from his water pipe, one pot after another.
After glancing at the brightening sky, Cui Guiying stood up and said, “I’ll make breakfast for the kids.”
Li Weihan exhaled smoke and replied, “Awfully early for that.”
Cui Guiying had to sit back down, looking at her husband, “When do we need to wait then?”
“Just wait for someone to notify us.”
“Who’s coming to notify us?”
Li Weihan didn’t answer, continuing to puff on his pipe.
After a while, a knock came at the door:
“Guiying, Guiying.”
It was their neighbor, Zhao Simei.
Li Weihan tapped his water pipe and said, “Here comes the notification.”
Cui Guiying stood up, yawning and rubbing her eyes as she opened the door, confused. “What’s the matter, Simei?”
Zhao Simei grabbed Cui Guiying’s arm and shook it vigorously: “Big Beard’s family had two deaths!”
“What?”
“Two of them! Big Beard and his youngest son. They were just seen floating in their fish pond. Everyone’s gone to take a look—come on, let’s go see!”
“Let’s go!”
Before she left, Cui Guiying called out to the inner room, “Yingzi, the rice is ready. You can cook breakfast later.”
“Got it, Grandma,” came the response.
With that, Cui Guiying rushed out with Zhao Simei.
After a moment, Li Weihan felt in his pocket for a few rolled cigarettes, set his water pipe on the table, and followed them out.
Zhao Simei’s knocking had woken the children, and upon realizing something serious was afoot, they all hurried outside to catch the excitement.
Despite Yingzi’s shouts of “Brush your teeth and wash your face!” they wouldn’t listen.
At this time, many people surrounded Big Beard’s fish pond. Villagers kept streaming toward the scene, young and old, bringing their families along.
Two bodies floated in the pond, untouched, even with a little boat tied at the edge.
Though Big Beard's family had a bad reputation in the village, the villagers weren’t that cold-hearted.
They didn’t help pull the bodies ashore because those two corpses looked like soaked biscuits, swollen to an unnatural degree, their skin appearing gelatinous and translucent, like two hefty lumps of human-shaped pig skin jelly.
Everyone knew that bodies that drowned could swell when soaked for too long, but how could two living people from just yesterday suddenly look like this?
It was too eerie, making no one dare touch the bodies.
Big Beard's wife knelt by the pond, wailing loudly, but she didn’t know what to do. When someone tried to comfort her, she ignored them, sobbing about her misfortune.
Eventually, Big Beard's eldest son returned from town, finally bringing someone to take charge.
But as he saw his father and younger brother floating in the pond, his face blanched in fear, and he dared not go retrieve them, instead asking for Li Sanjiang.
Li Sanjiang came pushing a cart loaded with his equipment.
Upon arrival, he glanced at the pond and recoiled, waving his hands and stepping back. “No way I’m going in there! That’ll shorten my life! Get someone else, hurry!”
His fear had the onlookers murmuring, speculating what kind of misfortune had befallen Big Beard’s family.
Soon, someone mentioned the incident with the little yellow oriole from yesterday. After all, the white-gowned funeral crew almost started a fight at Big Beard's house yesterday; it was hard to keep secrets in the village.
Li Weihan began recounting to those nearby how he’d taken his grandchildren out on a boat to the river, describing how his grandson fell into the water and had a nightmare about seeing a woman walking underwater, scaring him into a stupor; Dr. Zheng had come to take a look and had no solution. Luckily, Liu the Blind came and sorted it out.
Many perked up to listen to Li Weihan's tale, chiming in with their thoughts.
Cui Guiying stood beside Li Weihan, her expression tense. Normally, she could chat endlessly with the other women over gossip, but today, she felt an eerie silence filling her.
In her heart, unease swirled, feeling as if a thief was crying out for justice while the cat came to weep for the mouse.
Panzi, Leizi, Huzi, and Shitou began sharing too, claiming they had seen a female water ghost yesterday who nearly dragged their Little Lord Yuan underwater to be a substitute.
Before long, it was like an open-air tea party, villagers discussing the incident with the little yellow oriole. Once that topic wore out, they dug up all the old stories about Big Beard's family and went on discussing them.
Not long after, Big Beard’s second son came back with his wife, two daughters, and their husbands. The daughters hugged their crying mother while the sons and their husbands bargained with Li Sanjiang.
Li Sanjiang decided to charge a hefty fee, claiming digging two bodies was unnatural and demanding ten times the usual price to pull a body from the water.
Once the price was settled, Li Sanjiang set up an altar, offering candles and paper, adding a half hour of chanting to gather attention.
While it wasn’t as colorful as a typical funeral crew performance, everyone knew that the professionals didn't put on airs like the funeral crew.
During this commotion, two Santana cars drove up, sirens flashing. It was the police from the town.
When someone drowned, it usually wasn’t a big deal. But two people at once, and a father and son at that, right outside their door—it changed everything.
The police arrived and took in the scene, momentarily stunned. They had seen bloated bodies before but never ones that were so well inflated.
Seeing this, they could only wait for the bodies to be retrieved before proceeding. They didn't interrupt Li Sanjiang's ceremony but kept their distance, standing by their car, smoking and waiting patiently.
Finally, Li Sanjiang finished his rites, killed a rooster, and sprinkled what he claimed was black dog blood before he took the boat to the middle of the pond.
First, he used the "Guiding Hook" to bring a corpse to the edge of the boat, then the "Soul Returning Basket" to secure and lift it onto the boat, followed by covering the body with the "Homebound Net." Once at the pond’s edge, he bent down, lowering his head as he used a specific technique to get the body on his back before climbing ashore.
This was an important rule for corpse retrieval; the rescuer had to get their feet on the ground first before laying down the body since that signified “bringing home.”
After perfectly repeating this process twice, Big Beard and his son were finally taken out from the water, laid on two mats made of straw.
As everything wrapped up, Li Sanjiang looked nervously at the center of the pond, where he had only been careful to retrieve the bodies without daring to explore further.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she might still be down there.
The police separated the bodies, but the villagers paid no mind, still peering from afar with their heads stretching out to look, interspersed with the occasional cries of frightened children.
After collecting his payment and packing up his gear, Li Sanjiang lit a cigarette as he pushed his cart back, with all the villagers making way for him. After a corpse retrieval, no one wanted to be too close.
The police began their official investigation right at Big Beard's house. The village leader joined them to help, yelling for everyone to come, making tea and boiling water.
Big Beard's wife couldn’t provide a coherent explanation. She had simply woken to find her husband missing from her side, only hearing from an outsider passing by that her two family members were floating in the pond.
The lead officer asked the village leader if anyone in the village had a grudge against Big Beard’s family. The village leader scratched his ear and casually replied, “Oh, there are quite a few.”
After that, those with grudges lined up to give their statements.
Including the storytellers, like Li Weihan and the others, they were called forward to be questioned.
Initially, the police thought another body had been discovered and dispatched officers to assist Li Weihan in searching the river segment for a result that yielded nothing. Add to that, Li Weihan’s tale seemed overly fantastical and was thus dismissed as the superstitious ramblings of an old man to his grandchildren.
This paperwork felt futile. Li Weihan noticed the doubt in everyone’s eyes and grew anxious, insisting that what he experienced was true. He couldn’t get the police and the surrounding people to believe him until the village leader had to intervene to calm him down.
The funeral crew that caused that ruckus the day before was later summoned for questioning, but they had proof of being elsewhere the day before, making them exonerated completely.
As for the little yellow oriole’s disappearance and its implications—it was due to no body being found and the involved parties, Big Beard and his son, having passed on, which led to an initial report of missing persons.
In the end, the father and son drowning incident was classified as a tragic accident: the narrative suggested Big Beard had drunk too much last night, and in a fit of drunken revelry, they both drowned in the pond.
Big Beard's family didn’t pursue the matter further since after the mourning, the two sons and two daughters began squabbling over the family estate, ripping off the masks of civility that made for quite the spectacle in the village.
After completing the statements, it was already dusk. Li Weihan and Cui Guiying headed home with the children in tow, the kids leading the way while the old couple trailed behind.
As Cui Guiying patted her chest, shaken, she asked, “Why did you volunteer to speak up? You were even called to answer questions by the police. I was so scared!”
Li Weihan casually tossed his empty cigarette pack to the roadside, pressed his lips together and replied, “It’s what your uncle taught me; one must speak up, not bottle things up. Even Doctor Zheng and Liu Jinxia know about Little Yuan.”
Cui Guiying retorted, “You should have at least warned them to keep it quiet.”
Li Weihan shook his head, “Even if adults can keep secrets, how do you expect kids to not spill?”
“Well...”
Li Weihan took a deep breath, said, “Your uncle says the best method to keep a secret is to announce it publicly.”
The village folks were nearly all gathered at Big Beard’s fish pond for the excitement, but Li Zhuiyuan didn’t go. Lying in bed and restless, he moved a small stool outside to sit on, gazing out at the distant fields.
After a while, Yingzi, who had just finished washing the dishes, came out. She grabbed a square stool and set out her stationery and homework, while she sat on a little stool herself, creating an impromptu desk with the afternoon sun as their light.
Yingzi’s parents had never prioritized her studies, but they also never told her things like, “It’s useless for girls to study” or “Better to marry off early” or “Find a connection to get a job at the textile factory.”
They paid the fees before the term started and for regular expenses, and she didn’t have to feel shy or guilty about asking for anything; it was normal.
However, comparisons make one uneasy. Compared to other girls in the village, Yingzi’s parents were considered to be exemplary for valuing their daughter’s education—even if it was a hands-off style.
Yingzi understood that this was influenced by her aunt Li Lan.
Li Lan had changed her fate through studying, becoming a source of pride for her grandparents. Even her father and uncles puffed out their chests with honor every time they mentioned her to outsiders.
Despite her hard work, Yingzi's grades were only mediocre; even though she was diligent, her grandparents never intentionally sacrificed their son’s education just to support their daughter. Since they couldn’t teach well, her father and uncles just weren’t able to comprehend their studies.
This made her wonder: Did all the brains of the Li family go to her aunt?
Initially, this thought had only grazed her mind but grew stronger after Little Yuan came to stay. The rather reserved boy had sat next to her, and as she faced a challenging math problem, she heard him softly murmur, “Square root three.”
Later, whenever Yingzi encountered difficult problems, she’d ask Li Zhuiyuan for help, noticing that he hardly needed any time to think—he just glanced at the question and blurted out the answer.
The bigger hassle for him seemed to be writing out the working so that his clumsy sister could understand!
After all, she was already a high school freshman.
Yingzi inquired about what school he attended in the capital, and Li Zhuiyuan answered simply: “Youth Class.”
Yingzi instinctively interpreted “Youth Class” to mean elementary school, feeling awed: A capital city elementary student really had an advanced curriculum!
Li Zhuiyuan fell into a daze, occasionally snapping back to help his sister with a problem before returning to his thoughts.
Feeling a pencil cap gently tapping on him, Li Zhuiyuan turned to look at the question when he noticed Yingzi pointing toward the western side of the yard.
There stood a little girl in a floral dress.
It was Cui Cui, the granddaughter of Liu Jinxia, timidly standing there, not daring to step forward.
Yingzi frowned at Li Zhuiyuan, signaling him not to engage.
Usually, she would have just opened her mouth. After all, the village kids shared the understanding of not playing with her. But since Liu Jinxia and her daughter had visited recently to help with her brother’s “illness,” she felt embarrassed about saying anything right now.
Li Zhuiyuan stood up and walked over to the edge of the yard, approaching Cui Cui with a smile. “Hey, you’re here! What do you need?”
Cui Cui gazed elsewhere, fiddling with the hem of her dress and replied softly: “I came to find you to play.”
“Okay,” Li Zhuiyuan turned and waved to Yingzi, “Sister, I’m going to play with Cui Cui.”
Yingzi didn’t say anything, just sighed and went back to her homework.
In truth, there wasn’t much to play with; often, it was just an excuse to leave home and call out a friend, wandering aimlessly together.
Cui Cui looked at Li Zhuiyuan by her side with a smile in her eyes. It was her first time, being like the other village kids and going over to call someone out.
However, she still didn’t dare to step into the yard uninvited, as children her age might not understand many things, yet they were more sensitive and didn’t want to receive disapproving glares from the adults.
“Little Lord Yuan, my mom said you were sick yesterday?”
“Yeah.” At that reminder, Li Zhuiyuan’s mind drifted back to the little yellow oriole, and his smile faded.
“Ah?” Cui Cui quickly apologized, “I won’t mention it, I won’t! Being sick is definitely hard to bear.”
Li Zhuiyuan patted his pocket, regretfully saying, “I forgot to bring you snacks.”
Actually, it wasn’t that he forgot, but with his grandparents away, the cabinet for snacks was locked, and he couldn’t get to it. Yingzi seemed to know where the key was hidden, but Li Zhuiyuan knew that if he asked her for help, she would go on about Cui Cui’s faults.
“Snacks? I have plenty at home—loads of them! Come over to my house to eat.”
“To your house? ”
“Um, let’s go home to play.”
“Okay!”
Upon receiving an affirmative, Cui Cui bravely grabbed Li Zhuiyuan’s hand, and the two walked along the field path together.
At that moment, she really hoped that the adults lounging around the homes by the path could see her and ask, “Oh, Little Cui, who are you playing with?”
She also wanted to meet kids her age on the way so they could see she had a companion too.
Unfortunately, most of the villagers were at Big Beard's fish pond watching the spectacle.
Nevertheless, she was still incredibly happy, her smile stretching from ear to ear. If she weren’t holding hands with him, she would’ve spun in circles with joy.
“Little Lord Yuan, you don’t understand our talk, do you?”
“Initially, I couldn’t understand at all. But when you speak slowly or briefly, I can catch on now. Not only do I understand everything, but I can also say some things, though I don’t speak very perfectly.”
When he had first arrived in this household, he really hadn’t understood what adults spoke of, only the siblings who had been to school could converse with him in mandarin.
He remembered how each time he addressed Li Weihan and Cui Guiying as “Grandpa and Grandma,” their expressions would reveal some displeasure, repeatedly correcting him to say “Grandpa” and “Grandma.”
The local terminology indeed omitted “grandpa” and “grandma.” Most of the time, distinguishing between maternal and paternal grandmothers was based on location—for instance, the grandmother who resided in the south would be called “Southern Grandma,” while the one in the north would be “Northern Grandma.”
“Oh, by the way, Little Lord Yuan, have you been to the Forbidden City?”
“Yeah, I’ve been.”
“I want to go there too.”
“Sure, just call me, and I’ll take you.”
“Really? Don’t trick me!”
“I won’t fool you. I know the Forbidden City very well.”
Li Zhuiyuan recalled a time when his aunt Li Lan worked there, leaving him to play by himself at the Forbidden City. Sometimes he would sit on the side steps, cuddling an orange cat while watching the endless stream of tourists enter through the main gate, often for the entire afternoon.
“By the way, Little Lord Yuan, have you ever had mung bean juice?”
“Uh…”
“Have you?” Cui Cui gazed at him with her big curious eyes.
“Yeah.”
“How does it taste? What’s it like?”
What kind of taste?
Li Zhuiyuan was reminded of when Cui Guiying was rinsing out the jar filled with spoiled pickled vegetables last week.
“Some people like it, others don’t.”
“Is that so? Then I must try it when I go to BJ (Beijing)!”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, Little Lord Yuan, look, that’s my house!”
Following Cui Cui’s finger, Li Zhuiyuan spotted a two-story building beyond a stretch of farmland.
“Wow, you live in an apartment?”
The village had houses of all styles; most were simple brick houses, but some struggling families lived in earthen homes, while a few well-off families had already built their two-story houses.
As they walked into Cui Cui’s yard, in the living room, Liu Jinxia was smoking a cigarette and playing cards.
Her card buddies, an elderly couple and a man, were at her house for a meal, which was always decent—there’d be meat and wine. Thus, she had no shortage of card partners and was happy to invest a little to keep them enticed to spend time with her.
The card table was truly a magical place. Even though Liu Jinxia suffered from cataracts, making it hard for her to see, it didn’t affect her speed of playing at all.
“Grandma, I brought Little Lord Yuan to play with me.”
“Hello, Liu Grandma,” Li Zhuiyuan greeted.
“Alright, go play.” Liu Jinxia waved her hand without taking her attention away from the cards, “One pair!”
Just momentarily, the players had been discussing the events at Big Beard’s home, when Liu Jinxia began blowing rings of smoke while casually responding. Hearing her granddaughter enter with Li Zhuiyuan made her pause slightly, her eyes narrowing through the smoke.
This child was possessed by an evil spirit yesterday, and today Big Beard and his son were floating in the fish pond.
If there was no connection, Liu Jinxia wouldn’t believe it for a second.
Yet she didn’t stop her granddaughter from playing with Li Zhuiyuan, thinking it ludicrous to suggest avoiding someone who’s unlucky.
Cui Cui led Li Zhuiyuan through the living room to the inner room, where Li Juxiang was sitting on a stool, prepping vegetables. Seeing her daughter bring someone home puzzled her for a moment, but upon seeing Li Zhuiyuan, a smile spread across her face.
It reminded her of her own childhood, with Li Lan playing around together.
Li Juxiang quickly stood up, wiping her hands on her apron: “Sit, Little Lord Yuan.”
Then she hastily went inside and brought out a plethora of snacks to treat them. Liu Jinxia had a good household condition, and with only Cui Cui as her child, she could afford the coveted snacks that all the local kids envied.
Li Juxiang also opened two bottles of lemon-flavored soda, giving one to each child.
This fizzy drink with a beer bottle appearance was inexpensive and popular among kids, who couldn’t be bothered to pour it into bowls; they just gulped it like adults drank liquor.
“How is your mother?”
“She’s good, Aunt.”
“I heard your mom left…” Li Juxiang suddenly realized that this could be a sensitive topic and quickly changed her tune, “Your mom and I played together as kids. We were very close.”
“Yeah, she told me about you, Aunt Xiang.”
The honorific “Aunt” is usually used by juniors to refer to seniors; juniors wouldn’t use it for peers.
However, Li Juxiang didn’t get offended; rather, she felt happy. She could imagine the scene of Li Lan speaking about her son, using “Aunt” in front of her—that proved she hadn’t forgotten her. “Your mom was very clever back then, doing well in school. Unlike me, I’d get a headache at the sight of textbooks.” Li Juxiang tucked her hair behind her ear, "When's your mom coming by to visit?”
“My mom’s busy with work. She said she’ll come to fetch me when she’s done.”
Cui Cui interjected, “Mom, I’m taking Little Lord Yuan upstairs to play.”
“Okay, go ahead, make sure to take care of Little Lord Yuan.”
Cui Cui took Li Zhuiyuan’s hand and, upon reaching the stairs, effortlessly took off her shoes to switch into slippers, prompting Li Zhuiyuan to do the same.
“No, Little Lord Yuan, you don’t have to take them off. Just come up with me,” she said.
Li Zhuiyuan still removed his shoes, intending to go barefoot, so Cui Cui handed him a pair of her mother’s slippers.
Wearing the big slippers, Li Zhuiyuan followed Cui Cui up to the second floor and into her room, where an old black-and-white television sat.
The Liu family had purchased the television a long time ago but kept it low-key. They didn’t want to attract the villagers who had been cold towards them.
Cui Cui switched on the standing fan, but the blades didn’t spin. “Hey, is it out of order?”
Li Zhuiyuan pointed, “The plug isn’t connected.”
“Oh, right!” Cui Cui bent down, picking up the plug and inserting it into the wall socket:
“Whirr... whirr... whirrrrrr...”
The fan’s blades began to turn slowly, creating a refreshing breeze that was a balm for the summer heat.
“Little Lord Yuan, do you watch TV?”
“Sure, I’m okay with it.”
Cui Cui turned on the television and began to turn the dial. After a full rotation, there were only a few channels, and half of them were static.
“Jing Ge, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Rong Er.”
“Humph, Ouyang Feng, you...”
Every summer and winter holiday, “The Legend of the Condor Heroes” would play on repeat on television.
The two sat by the edge of the bed watching for a while, when suddenly Li Zhuiyuan felt drowsy.
He hadn’t rested since last night; earlier, he’d been anxious, but as his tension faded, fatigue washed over him rapidly.
Mistaking his drowsiness for disinterest in watching TV, Cui Cui got off the bed and began introducing her dolls, toys, and picture books to him.
Despite his fatigue, Li Zhuiyuan still looked at her, doing his best to respond to each of her introductions.
The little girl reveled in sharing her joys but quickly noticed the lack of response, glancing toward the bed to see Li Zhuiyuan resting against the side, having fallen asleep.
Cui Cui immediately stopped talking and quietly shuffled over, cautiously pushing Li Zhuiyuan to make him comfortable. She folded the light summer quilt slightly and rested it over his belly.
Then she adjusted the fan to blow toward him, pressing a button on the back to make it oscillate.
After doing this, she fetched a chair and sat at the bedside, resting her chin on her hands as she gazed at the sleeping Li Zhuiyuan.
After watching for a moment, she couldn’t help but smile shyly, her earlobes turning red. She turned her face away, but after a while, her eyes returned to him again.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
“Little Cui, Little Cui, it’s time to bring Little Yuan down for dinner!” came the shout from Li Juxiang downstairs.
Cui Cui quickly ran down and greeted her mother, “Mom, Little Lord Yuan is asleep.”
“Then you come down for dinner; we’ll save some for him.”
“No, I’m not hungry! I want to wait for Little Lord Yuan to wake up and eat with him.”
Most parents in the village typically discouraged their children from playing around mealtime, fearing they’d be invited to join for a meal, which could seem opportunistic.
However, sometimes, it couldn’t be avoided, and they ended up eating at the table.
Cui Cui had not experienced this before; she was eager to wait for Li Zhuiyuan to wake up to eat together.
Li Juxiang smiled, nodded, and returned to the living room to call her mother and card friends for their lunch.
Cui Cui returned to the second floor, sitting back in her spot as she continued watching Li Zhuiyuan:
“Hmm?”
Cui Cui leaned in curiously, noticing that Li Zhuiyuan’s brows were furrowed.
“Is he dreaming?”
…
“Grandma, I brought Little Lord Yuan over to play.”
“Mm, go play. One pair!”
Li Zhuiyuan looked at Cui Cui standing before him and at Liu Jinxia playing cards with her three friends in the living room; he knew he was dreaming.
As the scene around him felt wildly detached from reality, everything appeared in shades of black and white, as if everything and everyone were drawn with charcoal.
Though they represented the corresponding people and objects, they were also vague and distorted, with crude lines reflecting an eerie casualness.
Li Zhuiyuan looked down at himself, realizing he was still himself; it was everything else in the dream that was wrong.
This reminded him of the sketches in his mother’s study, with similar white pages marred by charcoal marks.
He dreamt of being at Cui Cui’s house, greeting Liu Jinxia, then seeing Cui Cui proceed to lead him inside.
The little girl’s delicate hand began to feel rough in his hold; it hurt, like sandpaper against his skin.
He instinctively pulled away and stopped in his tracks, yet Cui Cui continued moving inside, keeping her arm outstretched as if still holding on.
However, behind him, Liu Jinxia and her three friends playing cards had suddenly gone silent.
Li Zhuiyuan turned back, noticing them all frozen, motionless.
Even Liu Jinxia’s exhaled smoke rings had stayed suspended in the air, not dispersing.
This stillness allowed Li Zhuiyuan to observe closely; the three card players' charcoal lines appeared gentle and faint, while Liu Jinxia’s outline was defined, thick, and harsh.
Standing still for a moment, Li Zhuiyuan felt puzzled—whenever he realized he was dreaming in the past, he would wake up immediately, but this time, he remained in the dream.
Ultimately, Li Zhuiyuan chose to move forward, reaching Li Juxiang, who was sitting and prepping vegetables. Her outlines seemed hard, clashing with the light and subtle strokes of those nearby.
As he stood before her, the deep black strokes outlined her expression; she was smiling, her gaze reminiscent of fond memories.
“Aunt Juxiang, Aunt Juxiang?”
He tried calling to her, waving his hand in front of her, but she remained still, eyes unblinking.
After leaving this area, he approached the stairs and, before going up, took off his shoes, walking barefoot up the steps.
Entering the bedroom, he found the standing fan didn’t turn, and the TV screen displayed a blurred image of Guo Jing and Huang Rong.
Cui Cui pointed to her doll, mouth open as if narrating, yet she remained motionless.
Cui Cui’s outlines were the clearest and tightest among everyone, almost formed as bold black lines, while the others appeared almost like sketches.
It seemed everyone and everything else was drawn on, whereas she felt almost sculpted.
Li Zhuiyuan looked at the bed and found it empty, devoid of his presence.
It wasn’t just objects that were still; sounds ceased.
Li Zhuiyuan began to feel uneasy, worrying about how long he would remain in this dream.
He opened the door leading to the balcony, where the second-floor balcony was accessible, adorned in red and white tiles.
Peering into the distance, aside from a messy scrawl making out farmland, most of the expanse before him was a bleak canvas.
Looking up, the sun’s original position was merely a white space radiating light, resembling an eraser, threatening to drop down and erase everything.
“Excuse me, is this Liu Jinxia’s house?”
A voice arose from the yard below, startling him, sounding so sudden and even jarring.
From the second floor, Li Zhuiyuan looked down to see a middle-aged man, maybe around fifty, carrying an elderly woman on his back.
The old woman was frail, her skin barely clinging to her bones, hair long and messy, cascading down her back.
“Excuse me, is this Liu Jinxia’s house?”
The man repeated, turning in circles with a hint of anxiety as he supported his elderly mother.
Li Zhuiyuan hesitated, unsure whether he should respond.
At that moment, the elderly woman’s head lifted from the man’s back, her eyes directly locking onto Li Zhuiyuan on the second floor.
Though all drawings were charcoal sketches, those eyes bore a detail that transcended the limits of caricature.
It was fury, malice, and intense resentment!
In the next instant, Li Zhuiyuan sensed everything around him spinning and distorting, like a swirling vortex swallowing everything, himself included.
…
“Little Lord Yuan?”
Li Zhuiyuan opened his eyes to see Cui Cui’s concerned face nearby.
“Little Lord Yuan, did you have a nightmare?”
“Yeah.” Li Zhuiyuan sat up and replied, “How long did I sleep?”
“Not long, about two hours. Little Lord Yuan, let’s go down to eat.”
“No, I’ll go home to eat.”
“Ah, don’t be polite, Little Lord Yuan,” Cui Cui urged, taking his hand to guide him downstairs. “Mom, Little Lord Yuan’s awake!”
At this point, Liu Jinxia and her card friends had already finished lunch and were gearing up for the afternoon.
Li Juxiang smiled and pulled away the red cover from the kitchen table, revealing the meal she set aside for them. “Little Lord Yuan, come eat. I’ll heat up your soup.”
“Aunt, I’ll go home.”
“Be good, don’t be polite. I never was with your mom, and you know what, Cui Cui waited for you to wake up to eat together.”
“Thank you, Auntie.”
“Little Lord Yuan, sit here,” Cui Cui seated herself while Li Zhuiyuan moved to the other counter to grab bowls and chopsticks.
“Go on, sit down! I’ll get it,” she insisted.
“Okay, Aunt.”
By the time Li Zhuiyuan returned to sit down, Liu Juxiang quickly placed a bowl of rice and chopsticks in front of him.
Although the table contained only small servings in regular bowls, it was ample for the two children—two meat dishes and two vegetable dishes. The highlight was a bowl of braised pork with potatoes, where potatoes merely adorned the rest, showcasing her care in serving.
Li Juxiang came over with a bowl of fish stew sprinkled with sesame oil and some vinegar, giving off a delicious aroma.
Furthermore, she opened a can of mixed fruit, pouring a bowl in front of both kids.
In the village, it was indeed quite a feast.
“Little Yuan, stay for dinner tonight, and I’ll whip up something delicious for you,” Li Juxiang added cheerfully.
Li Zhuiyuan set his chopsticks down, addressing Li Juxiang, “This is already plenty, thank you for your efforts.”
“Come, don’t stop! Keep eating.”
Li Juxiang ruffled Li Zhuiyuan’s hair, secretly envious of Li Lan for teaching her son so well; a polite, sensible child is easily favored everywhere.
“Little Lord Yuan, does your mom cook for you at home?”
Li Zhuiyuan shook his head, placing his chopsticks atop his bowl as he replied, “Mom doesn’t cook.”
“Must be busy with work, then?”
“Yeah, she’s very busy.”
“How about your grandparents over there? Do they cook for you?”
“I don’t go there often.”
“Where do you usually eat?”
“At the neighbors.”
Usually, after school, retirees living in the school compound would often come to invite him over for meals after classes.
“Aww, poor child,” Li Juxiang muttered, not pressing further. She instructed the kids to eat before heading off with a thermos to refill the pot for the card table.
At that moment, a shout came from outside:
“Excuse me, is this Liu Jinxia’s house?”
On hearing this, Li Zhuiyuan dropped the chopsticks he had just lifted, and they clattered to the floor.
“Clatter!”
…
In the hall, Liu Jinxia tossed her playing cards onto the table, clapping her hands. “That’s enough for today.”
Her three card partners nodded, rising to wrap up, having clearly grown accustomed to the occurrence.
However, before exiting the hall, they lined up at the corner basin to wash their hands.
The basin was filled with banana leaves; while washing, they’d scrub their hands on the leaves, shake off water, and finally dry with a towel hanging nearby.
The purpose was to ward off misfortune—an arrangement made by Liu Jinxia, who had become quite unbothered by the villagers’ attitude toward her family. Instead, she intentionally created an air of ritualism to enhance her own mystique.
Li Zhuiyuan and Cui Cui walked into the hall, where Liu Jinxia was already rising from her chair, asking, “Have you eaten?”
“We are, just coming to check,” Cui Cui replied.
“What’s there to see? Never mind, Little Cui, help grandma gather the cards.”
“Okay, Grandma.”
Having given instructions, Liu Jinxia went on her own way to her inner sanctuary, a relatively shaded room that served as her office.
“Be careful, there’s a step here,” Li Juxiang called, as she had gone out to greet the earlier calls.
“It’s fine, no trouble here.”
Li Zhuiyuan glanced toward the entryway and noticed Li Juxiang helping a frail old man over the threshold.
The man leaned heavily, a hunchback, with his hands clasped behind his back.
He resembled someone carrying an invisible person.
“Is this the family’s little boy?” the hunchback greeted with a smile directed toward the children.
“The little girl belongs to my family, the boy belongs to my sister’s family. My mom is waiting for you, just go in, turn right, and head straight.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll get there. I can’t let Liu Jinxia wait,” he continued inside.
Li Zhuiyuan kept his gaze on the man’s hunchbacked form.
Once he entered the inner door and turned right, he was supposed to proceed further but suddenly froze.
Being hunched over, the upper body was blocked by the wall, leaving only the humped back visible in his line of sight.
Suddenly, with a lift of his arms, he shifted. His left arm pressed down, while the right arm pointed upward, glancing sideways as he repositioned himself along the wall.
Li Zhuiyuan stared at his bare back, feeling that at that moment, someone was perched on his back, casting a gaze upon him.
“What’s wrong?” Li Juxiang queried.
The rough voice of the old man suddenly carried a hint of sharpness, laced with a raspy tone. “This little boy…”
Li Zhuiyuan felt a sudden tension in his hands, recalling the time he had asked his mother why the wall had so many empty spaces during their stroll through her study, her response being:
“Little Yuan, these are left blank for you to imagine; this way, the effects are even better.”
At the time, he didn’t fully grasp it, but now he felt he understood a bit.
“Quickly go! My mom is waiting for you.”
Li Juxiang pressed again. She did not comprehend why the man lingered, but she didn’t find the man’s pose to be odd; after all, it is unusual for one with a hunch to simply stand still.
“Mm,” he answered, but then unexpectedly squatted down, with his body leaning slightly backward, hands propped against the ground.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
Li Juxiang reached out to assist him, but despite his thin frame, the force he exerted while lowering himself was heavy, and she struggled to lift him. Thankfully, he managed to maintain his balance with his hands propping him up, remaining squatted without collapsing.
Seeing that, Li Zhuiyuan stepped back unsteadily a couple of steps.
That posture resembled someone setting down a load that was carried atop one’s back.
Sunlight spilled into the hall, the vintage tiling of the flooring reflecting little light, only showing slight changes in brightness here and there.
Li Zhuiyuan’s eyes lowered, noticing two small patches near the inner threshold that seemed slightly darker.
Very faint, almost to the point where he thought he was seeing things or imagining them.
But then again, fresh patches emerged that shifted darker momentarily but returned to normal, their proximity growing closer to him each time.
Ultimately, that darkness appeared right in front of him on the floor tiles and did not dissipate.
A chill started blowing over him; Li Zhuiyuan felt his face, chest, hands, and feet grow cold. But he was facing into the room, where could this cold draft be coming from?
The dark patches on the floor lightened on their rear and darkened in the front, heightening his chill.
Li Zhuiyuan swallowed hard, his gaze flickering as his instincts kicked in, making him averse to looking directly ahead. It felt as if there lingered, just out of sight, a hunched, thin old woman leaning toward him, her face moving closer.
Li Zhuiyuan bit his lip.
Suddenly, he felt a chilling weight pressed against his left cheek like an ice patch, his scalp prickling as if touched by fingertips with a tingling sensation.
In that moment, the old man squatting on the floor turned to glance at him, resuming the thought he had earlier left unfinished:
“This little boy truly looks obedient.”
(End of Chapter)