Yuqi was absorbed in conversation with the man before her, entirely unaware of Hongdou. The two seemed to have hit upon some very amusing topic; Yuqi kept biting her lip and laughing softly, coaxed into it.
Hongdou curiously studied the man—his back was straight and tall, one hand tucked in his trouser pocket, the other holding his coffee. A silver-grey waistcoat, crisply pressed trousers, both temples of hair combed meticulously neat, and on his wrist a gold watch glinting brightly. While speaking he seemed careful to keep his voice low, which lent him an air of considerable gentlemanly grace.
Hongdou turned her face aside, about to speak to Gu Yun, when suddenly the light before her dimmed slightly, and someone said, “Senior Sister Yu.”
Yu Hongdou looked up and could hardly have imagined running into the fourth Miss He, the one who had fainted, here: “Oh, Classmate He? What a coincidence—are you feeling better?”
“Much better.” For some reason, He Zhuyun wanted to laugh the moment she saw Hongdou. “Thank you for your concern, Senior Sister Yu.”
Though shy by nature, thanks to years of family upbringing, she wasn’t at all awkward in her manner: “My second brother was invited to this tea gathering, and worried I’d be bored at home, so he brought me along. There’s a topic later that he’ll be presenting.”
As she spoke, she pointed behind her. “That’s my second brother, over there.”
He Yunqin had already noticed his sister talking with someone. Seeing a girl of seventeen or eighteen, he guessed this must be the Yu Hongdou his sister had mentioned, and gave her a cursory once-over—seeing the girl’s face was unusually delicate and lovely, her eyes bright and expressive, nothing about her deliberately chasing fashion from head to toe, yet refreshingly free of both rusticity and vulgarity.
Over a white blouse she wore a dark green knit sweater, and below, a pair of black round-toed leather shoes polished to a shine. Her hair was held back with a pearl-colored celluloid hairband, hanging neatly and cleanly at her shoulders. She seemed to carry a bright, guileless air about her, and had been observing the people and goings-on in the hall with lively interest ever since sitting down.
Yu Hongdou hadn’t expected He Zhuyun to suddenly bring up her second brother, and out of social courtesy had no choice but to feign surprise and look over—only to find her gaze meeting He Yunqin’s squarely.
She had no idea how long he’d been watching this way; his gaze clearly carried an appraising quality. A cigarette rested in his mouth, and his other hand was raised, about to light it. Looking closely, he was worthy of being He Zhuyun’s full sibling—many features resembled hers—only his nose bridge was a bit straighter and higher, and his brows flew up a bit more sharply.
Seeing Hongdou looking at him, He Yunqin slowly returned the Western lighter to his trouser pocket, and out of nowhere flashed Hongdou a smile. At first glance the smile seemed flawless, but on closer inspection carried a hint of perfunctoriness.
Hongdou bared her teeth slightly and returned He Yunqin a bland, purely courteous smile.
He Zhuyun covered her mouth, laughing, “Senior Sister Yu, you’re really funny.”
Hongdou was startled, not knowing what was funny about her.
He Zhuyun explained, “My second brother is actually very good-natured—it’s just that he likes to joke sometimes. Please don’t take it to heart.”
Hongdou tried to look as sincere as possible, nodding with a smile. “I can tell Mr. He is a very good person.”
He Zhuyun pursed her lips at Hongdou. “Senior Sister Yu, I forgot to mention—I’ve prepared some small gifts I’d like to give you all.”
Then, turning to Gu Yun and the others, “Senior sisters, though I can’t yet call each of you by name, since I’ve had the good fortune to become a member of St. John’s, I’m sure I’ll have chances to get to know everyone better. My name is He Zhuyun—very pleased to meet you all.”
This little speech sounded as though someone had coached her beforehand, delivered fluently in one breath. When she finished, she gave Hongdou the fountain pen she’d brought, then took out enamel bookmarks and handed them one by one to Gu Yun and the others.
She was so earnest that Hongdou and the others had no choice but to rise and accept the gifts: “There was no need for Junior Sister He to be so courteous.”
Someone by the piano began speaking—the tea gathering had officially begun. He Zhuyun, as though having completed some great task, gave everyone a friendly smile and rose to leave with a smile still on her lips.
The host was Qin Xuekai.
Presiding over such a large-scale gathering for the first time, he appeared somewhat more restrained than usual, standing in the middle of the hall. He first reached up to straighten his bow tie, then tugged at the hem of his suit jacket; when he spoke again, his voice came out unusually high-pitched: “Today’s topics are unprecedentedly rich, and the attendees are talents from every field in Shanghai—”
Hongdou had no interest in the lengthy introduction, and leaned forward to pop a piece of the pastry the waiter had brought into her mouth, then looked up again to find Yuqi cousin, only to discover she was no longer in the hall.
“Surely everyone has read in the papers about Detective Wang Bide, who possesses extraordinary knowledge and has solved several cases that had stumped the police department for ages—”
Hearing the name Wang Bide, Hongdou finally perked up with interest. Though this man’s column was a mix of truth and fiction, it was highly entertaining—during the period he wrote it, she had read every single installment, and had even pressed her brother for the real cases behind the stories. When Wang Bide had suddenly stopped writing, she’d felt let down for quite a while.
Her brother had told her that this Wang Bide truly had genuine skill, having helped the police department solve several cases and offered many sound suggestions. Unfortunately, ever since the police commissioner changed, Wang Bide’s temperament had clashed with the new commissioner’s, and he refused to cooperate with them anymore—eventually going so far as to retreat to Germany, abandoning even his newspaper column.
Now that the police department wanted Wang Bide’s help finding leads, it was simply impossible—he was either perpetually absent from Shanghai, or deliberately playing the drunkard, to the point that even they had nearly forgotten the man existed.
“Today’s first topic will be presented by our own Detective Wang Bide.”
Everyone looked, and Wang Bide’s seat was empty.
Discussion began rising among the crowd, and Qin Xuekai stood at a loss. Just then, He Yunqin suddenly waved to Qin Xuekai.
Qin Xuekai hurried over to He Yunqin. After hearing a few low words from He Yunqin, his expression settled, and he went off on his own to look for the man.
Before long, Wang Bide was indeed found and brought in. Hongdou took one look and her heart sank halfway—how could Wang Bide be nothing like she’d imagined? He turned out to be a thin, short old man, his hair slicked with oil and parted in the middle, his face a reddish inverted triangle, his features looking as though someone had roughly pinched them together in a comical jumble.
Fortunately, the man dressed with some care—his Western suit fit him perfectly, clearly custom-tailored at a Western formal wear shop, unlike the sort of thing an ordinary drunkard would carelessly buy off the rack.
Wang Bide looked as though he’d just finished a heavy drinking session, his gait still unsteady, but fortunately his mind was still sharp enough that his speech didn’t falter: “Sorry, sorry, to keep you gentlemen and ladies waiting.”
As if trying to sober himself up, he took the glass of water a waiter brought and drank a sip, set the cup down, and swaying, walked to the middle of the hall, then turned around and leaned lazily against the piano, saying unhurriedly, “I’ve spent several years researching the mysterious incidents of Shanghai, and have gained some genuine insight. For this gathering, I’ve prepared a total of three mysterious incidents—I wonder which one you’d all like to hear? In my view, the most convoluted and strange of recent years has to be the case of the movie theater projectionist who murdered his wife.”
Hongdou listened attentively for a while, growing increasingly disappointed. Had Wang Bide’s mind truly been muddled by alcohol? Round and round he went, and it was all just the old cases he’d already written about in his column.
Fortunately, at least half the people present hadn’t read his column, and listening to Wang Bide ramble on about the same old stale stories, they didn’t find it tedious at all—especially Gu Yun and the others, who had never before been exposed to such mysterious tales, and hearing them for the first time, were utterly captivated.
Bored, Hongdou ate some pastries for a while, then thought of Yuqi cousin again, and looked around once more without success—it seemed she really had left early.
After Wang Bide finished recounting the three cases, according to the planned schedule, he should have taken his bow. Instead, as though not yet sobered up, he suddenly had a whim: “I wonder if anyone here would be interested in a little game with me. I have a deck of bridge cards—I’ll draw out a random sequence in a moment. Whoever can completely recite back the order and suits of the cards I show, I’ll help that clever person resolve one pressing, difficult problem of their choosing.”
Hearing this proposal, everyone immediately grew excited, and for a moment quite a few hands went up in eager response. But once the crowd calmed down and considered that Wang Bide was a rare genius, the condition he’d set must carry an unusual level of difficulty, and the hall grew quiet once more.
Wang Bide hiccuped from the drink and said, “You’ve all guessed correctly—this game is indeed no easy feat. In all these years, I’ve only ever seen one person memorize the entire order and pattern of the bridge cards. There he is—my good friend, Dr. He Yunqin.”
Hongdou glanced over at He Yunqin, who was speaking with someone who looked like a professor; not far behind him stood several fashionably dressed young women, all of them being kept occupied by He Zhuyun.
So bringing his sister along wasn’t only to broaden her horizons—it also let her run interference for him against unnecessary trouble. Hongdou secretly marveled at this, thinking it a brilliant idea; had it been her, she’d likely have done the same.
Wang Bide spoke again: “I’ll give everyone half a minute. If no one’s interested, then this game will simply have to be cancelled—”
Hongdou bit her lip. Wang Bide’s offered terms were truly tempting. Her brother had been struggling at the police station lately, running himself ragged all day, and had even begun entertaining thoughts of quitting his post. If she could get Wang Bide to stay settled in Shanghai and help find Chen Baidie, might her brother’s situation improve?
Besides, aside from Old Master Yu who taught Chinese literature, she’d never met anyone with a better memory than herself. And even if she failed to pass this game, it wouldn’t be the least bit embarrassing.
“Ah, seems no one can break Dr. He’s record.” Wang Bide shook his head, seeming ready to return to his seat.
Hongdou stood up ahead of the other classmates and said, “Detective Wang, I’d like to try.”
Everyone turned to look; He Yunqin also turned his head, and seeing it was Yu Hongdou, raised his eyebrows with a smile—it seemed both encouraging and pitying at once.
Well, it made sense—so many people over the years had challenged this game, and He Yunqin alone had ever succeeded. One could imagine the difficulty.
Hongdou smiled and said cheerfully, “Detective Wang, please deal the cards.”
Author’s Note: I work a regular job, so weekdays I generally update at 10pm; if there’s a bonus update or I need to skip a day, I’ll announce it beforehand in the author’s notes and on Weibo, mwah mwah mwah mwah
It snowed here today, my hands are frozen into little buns from typing