Most shops had already closed on New Year’s Eve, busy with festival preparations. But not Liu Changxi – he was a frugal man who reasoned that since he was paying rent anyway, staying open longer meant earning more money. Besides, with other shops closed, wouldn’t that mean better business for him?
So on New Year’s Eve, he kept his shop open as usual until three in the afternoon, when he finally rushed to have his workers clean up and hang spring festival couplets. The workers were somewhat dissatisfied, but considering the boss treated them well and never skimped on New Year’s bonuses, they went along with it.
By a little past four, the small shop was finally properly decorated. The worker had just removed his apron and washed his hands, said goodbye to Liu Changxi with a “See you after the New Year,” and was about to leave when a familiar female voice sounded from the computer speakers:
“You have a new system order, please check.”
“Damn, forgot to turn off orders on the delivery platform,” the worker rushed over to check while asking Liu Changxi, “Uncle Changxi, I’m off work now, we’re not taking orders anymore, right? I’ll call the customer and ask them to cancel.”
Liu Changxi had the same thought initially, but what came out of his mouth was: “What did they order?”
“Just a bowl of sour soup dumplings.”
If they had ordered more, like some stir-fry dishes, Liu Changxi wouldn’t have bothered firing up the stove again, especially after just cleaning up. But for just one order of dumplings? The sour soup was ready-made, the dumplings were pre-wrapped, and he wouldn’t even need to use oil. Why not just quickly make it?
Liu Changxi quickly stopped him: “No, no, take the order. You go ahead home, I’ll handle it. Just tell me where to deliver it.”
Running a small business, he couldn’t afford to work with delivery platforms, so the shop handled its own deliveries.
The worker checked the order notes: “It says pickup at the store.”
Store pickup? Better hurry then. Liu Changxi quickly put on his apron, white cap, and mask – nowadays everyone emphasized “transparent kitchens,” and though his shop was small, he kept up with the times. Customers could see into the small kitchen through the glass.
So he dressed properly, showing that though his business was small, it maintained all proper standards.
The worker left quickly, leaving Liu Changxi busy alone in the kitchen. Another year had passed, and he’d earned quite a bit this year, roughly estimating over a hundred thousand yuan. For a semi-elderly man with little education to earn enough to live comfortably through his effort – that wasn’t bad at all.
Feeling pleased, he threw in a few extra dumplings to cook, planning to give the customer some extra for good luck in the new year.
As the dumplings came to their second boil, a car stopped outside the shop.
The driver didn’t get out, just lowered the window and called out: “Boss, are the dumplings ready? Hurry up! We’re in a rush!”
The voice was rough and hard, clearly someone not to be trifled with. Liu Changxi, having dealt with all sorts of customers over his years of running stalls and now the shop, feared impatient customers the most.
He quickly ladled sour soup and dumplings into the takeout container while calling back loudly: “Coming, coming, just a moment!”
After covering, adding a spoon, and bagging it, he rushed out the door.
Outside was parked a black Mercedes. In the driver’s seat sat a burly man smoking a cigarette, his face full of impatience, as if the ten-odd seconds he’d waited had cost him several hundred million in business.
Liu Changxi carefully handed the takeout bag through the car window.
At that moment of passing the food, he saw a woman sitting in the back seat.
From his angle, he could only see the left side of her face, and there was something strange about it as if a chunk had been carved out, leaving a large scar.
Liu Changxi never stared at customers, and he wasn’t staring this time either, but because of that scar, his gaze lingered for just a second.
Who knew the big man would be so sensitive – he roared, “What are you looking at? Want me to gouge out your eyeballs? Idiot!”
He started the car as he spoke.
Liu Changxi hadn’t expected such ferocity and jumped in fright, stepping back to make way for the car. Almost at the same moment, the woman raised her head at the sound and turned her face slightly toward his side.
***
After lunch, Lin Ling rolled up her sleeves and started cleaning.
She had been staying at Liu Changxi’s place for some time now. With no money and poor cooking skills, cleaning was the only way she could help out.
Liu Changxi had been puzzled about her never going out for a couple of days, but then let it be. Following her request, he never revealed to others that he had a guest at home – something Lin Ling was very grateful for. Not asking too many questions was a virtue, unfortunately, one that many people lacked.
Occasionally they would chat, though there wasn’t much to talk about: to Liu Changxi, Lin Ling was Yan Tuo’s friend; to Lin Ling, Liu Changxi had worked for Yan Tuo’s father for a few years when he was young.
She had initially thought Liu Changxi was in close contact with Yan Tuo, but after asking, discovered this wasn’t the case: in the past five or six years, he had only met Yan Tuo three or four times, and supposedly, Yan Tuo had instructed him to avoid contact if possible.
So he didn’t even know Yan Tuo had gone missing. Lin Ling finally understood what Yan Tuo meant by “be careful when finding him, don’t bring danger to him, he’s just an ordinary person.”
She hadn’t told Liu Changxi the truth – there would be no point, it would only cause him needless worry.
After finishing the cleaning, Lin Ling busied herself filling fruit plates with various preserved fruits and nuts – it was the New Year after all, there should be some sense of ceremony.
This was her first New Year after separating from Lin Xirou, everything was going well, except for having no news of Yan Tuo.
Liu Changxi returned in the near evening and immediately dove into the kitchen to prepare the New Year’s Eve dinner. Lin Ling followed to help, but she noticed something was bothering Liu Changxi – he kept getting distracted.
Several times, she heard him muttering: “Really looks like her… must be her daughter.”
Lin Ling couldn’t help asking: “Uncle Changxi, who are you talking about?”
Liu Changxi said: “I saw someone today, don’t know if my eyes were playing tricks…”
At this point, he finally couldn’t hold back. Taking off his apron, he told her: “You keep working here, I need to go find something.”
What was he looking for?
After washing the vegetables, Lin Ling went to his bedroom door to take a look. Good heavens, Liu Changxi was standing on a large stool, rummaging through a pile of boxes atop the wardrobe.
Though not very old, Liu Changxi had old-fashioned habits. He couldn’t stand seeing empty space between the wardrobe and ceiling, always piling things up there. Over time, it had become like a miniature warehouse.
Seeing the stool wobbling, Lin Ling hurriedly went to steady it.
Found it!
Liu Changxi came down covered in dust, too preoccupied to care that he’d just been standing on the stool, and sat right down on it. He opened the photo album he’d just found: “I remember having her photo, took it at the mine… where is it…”
As he spoke, he found it.
It was a tug-of-war photo.
Back then, Yan Haishan was keen on winning various “advanced unit” titles for the mine. One of the county’s criteria for evaluating advanced enterprises was “workers’ cultural life,” so during leisure time, the mine organized many activities and took lots of photos to document them.
In this photo, the tug-of-war competition was intense, with people on both sides leaning back, gritting their teeth with effort. A child with a top-knot was curiously reaching for the red marker in the middle of the rope, while behind him, a young and beautiful woman was suppressing a smile, pretending to pull him back.
Lin Xirou?
Lin Ling never expected to see Lin Xirou’s photo here. For a moment she was so shocked her legs went weak, and she nearly collapsed against the wardrobe.
Liu Changxi didn’t notice her reaction at all, muttering: “Looks like her, must be her daughter… why is her face scarred? Must be karma, definitely karma.”
Lin Ling recovered from her initial shock, though her hands and feet remained ice-cold. Pretending curiosity, she pointed at Lin Xirou: “Who is this woman… she’s so beautiful.”
Liu Changxi’s face showed disdain: “She was the nanny hired by Xiao Tuo’s family when he was little, called Li Shuang… right, Li Shuangxiu. This woman was… a homewrecker who ruined a perfectly good family.”
He continued: “Beautiful, yes, truly beautiful. Once you see that face, you can’t forget it. When I suddenly saw her today, I was startled and thought it was her. Then I realized that’s not right – it’s been over twenty years, and people don’t stay young forever. Must be her daughter, looks just as beautiful as her, except for that scar.”
“Over twenty years, people don’t stay young forever?”
Lin Ling felt her lips going dry: That’s right, Uncle Changxi didn’t know, but she knew – Aunt Lin hadn’t aged at all.
What was this about a scar? She must have gotten hurt somehow recently.
Uncle Changxi had run into Lin Xirou – what was going on? Had Lin Xirou found this place? Had she come to… capture her?
Lin Ling’s mind was in chaos, her eyes fixed and unfocused, sweat breaking out on her temples.
Liu Changxi noticed her strange behavior and became worried: “Girl, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
Lin Ling’s lips trembled: “Un-Uncle Changxi, where did you run into her?”
“At the shop. Well, I didn’t run into her – her driver came to pick up dumplings. And that driver was… terrifyingly fierce, even cursed at me.”
“Then what?”
“Then they left. Seemed like they were in a hurry, complained I was too slow.”
From his description, it didn’t sound like they were looking for her. Lin Ling’s heart settled a bit, and she realized her reaction had been too extreme. She laughed awkwardly, clumsily changing the subject: “You… you still keep her photo?”
Liu Changxi couldn’t help but laugh: “Keep her photo? She just happened to be in it, couldn’t exactly cut her out.”
He flipped through the album, becoming nostalgic as he went: “Back then, taking photos wasn’t easy, we used film. Not like now where you can just snap away with your phone. Whenever we saw a camera, we’d all crowd around. Sometimes we’d give apples to people, and sweet-talk them into taking our picture. Too embarrassed to take individual photos, we’d all squeeze together…”
As he spoke, Lin Ling suddenly pressed down on the page he was turning, her voice and entire body trembling: “Uncle Changxi, can… can you go back? The page… just now.”
What was wrong with this girl today? Acting so strange about these old photos – they were taken before she was even born.
He turned back to the previous page.
It was an upper-body shot of two people – two young men with boyish faces looking somewhat stiffly at the camera. One was Liu Changxi and the other…
Lin Ling’s voice seemed to come from far away: “Uncle Changxi, who is this person?”
Liu Changxi glanced at the photo: “Oh, that’s Li Ergou.”
Perhaps because he’d just seen the woman who looked so much like Li Shuangxiu, or perhaps because it was New Year’s, a time for reflection, Liu Changxi’s nostalgic mood swelled, and he found himself talking more: “Had just started at the mine then, he pulled me in for a photo, so I took it.”
“Later found out he had a bad reputation at the mine. Then after that, he stole money from the mine and ran – almost ten thousand. Think about how much that was worth back then! Yan Tuo’s father was a good man, didn’t report it to the police, and probably wanted to give him a chance. Had people looked for him privately through connections, but never found him. His family even came to make trouble at the mine, saying their son was missing – isn’t that funny? Steals all that money and still tries to extort more.”
Lin Ling didn’t respond.
Halfway through his explanation, she’d stopped hearing what Liu Changxi was saying.
She felt her consciousness slowly rising from the top of her skull, floating out of the room, drifting far away to a time long past.
There, the courtyard walls were built of yellow earth mixed with rice straw, with a collapsed section in the middle where a large black pig had once snorted its way through.
There, inside the house stood a framed black and white memorial photo, its glass cracked with a long split. The photo showed a young man with small eyes and a flat nose – not handsome by any measure.
So, his name was Li Ergou.
***
November 4, 1997 / Tuesday / Overcast
Today, Dashan picked me up from the detention center.
Before Dashan arrived, the police lectured me: “If we hadn’t considered your mental condition, this wouldn’t have been resolved so easily, you know?”
Mental condition – now everyone thinks I have mental problems.
A week ago, I couldn’t bear the psychological pressure anymore and turned myself in. I couldn’t be a murderer who couldn’t sleep soundly at night. I had it all figured out: accidental homicide, plus voluntary surrender – the sentence should be lighter. With Dashan pulling strings and spending some money, maybe I’d be out in five or eight years.
I told the police it was an accidental killing, that I dragged the body out and buried it alone, and that Dashan knew nothing about it.
Of the two of us, one had to be cleared – otherwise, who would take care of Xiao Tuo and Xinxin?
At first, the police took it very seriously, recorded my confession, and asked detailed questions – everything proceeded as expected.
But after two days, things took an odd turn. I vaguely heard that the police found nothing at the burial site I’d described. Also, Li Shuangxiu wasn’t dead – she’d come back, and told the police herself she’d just gone away for a while.
She wasn’t dead? She’d come back?
A rumor? Was I crazy or was the world crazy? She hadn’t been breathing, half her face burned by electricity, soaked in water for so long – how could she possibly be alive?
…
Dashan finished the paperwork, signed it, and took me out.
I was desperate to ask him about Li Shuangxiu, but there were always people around, making it difficult to speak.
Finally, outside the detention center’s door, I grabbed him to ask, but he ignored me, instead pinching me hard, his hand trembling as he did so.
I looked up and realized Li Shuangxiu had come to meet me too.
She stood beside Dashan’s car, holding Xinxin in one arm, holding Xiao Tuo’s hand with the other, smiling at me, saying: “Sister Lin, long time no see.”
I started trembling too.
At that moment, I felt like I was seeing a fox spirit straight out of “Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio” – a thousand-year-old man-eating fox.
November 12, 1997 / Wednesday / Cloudy turning Clear
It’s been over a week since I came home.
The neighbors are still gossiping about my mental illness. Everyone says I went crazy with jealousy when my husband got involved with the nanny, and I suddenly had a mental breakdown.
How laughable. What do any of you know? You all act like you were perched on my windowsill watching it happen.
Minjuan and Changxi both came to see me.
Minjuan was so careful around me, sitting as far away as possible as if I might suddenly have an episode and lunge at her.
Changxi brought a big bag of walnuts, all cracked and peeled, his eyes red as he told me: “Sister Lin, eat more of these, they’re nutritious.”
Such a silly child – there’s nothing wrong with my mind. Besides, even if I were truly crazy, walnuts couldn’t cure it.
After coming home this time, it seems Li Shuangxiu and I have suddenly switched positions. She’s the mistress of the house, accompanying Dashan to various social functions, while I’m the nanny – a mentally ill nanny locked in the house from morning to night.
I fear her, I truly fear her.
I have nightmares at night, dreaming of her standing by Xiao Tuo’s bedside, her shadow cast on the wall by the light – starting as a human shadow, then becoming a fox’s. I dream that Xinxin suddenly disappears, and I find her in her room, watching a large pot and fishing out bones to eat. When I ask where Xinxin is, she just smiles and points to the soup pot.
What should I do? Report it to the police? Who would take a mental patient’s report seriously? Even if I reported it, who would believe this story?
…
Or should I run away?
This fox spirit has entered my home, and I can’t drive her out – so what if I leave? Take Dashan, Xiao Tuo, and Xinxin with me – anywhere is home as long as we’re together.
We’ll give up this business, and start over with our own hands. We’ll go far away – surely we can shake her off.
December 19, 1997 / Friday / Heavy Snow
Dashan has bought the train tickets – for Sunday night at ten o’clock.
He says there’s a dinner that night, and Li Shuangxiu will go with him. They’ve arranged karaoke afterward, but he’ll find an excuse to leave early and head straight to the train station.
As for me, I just need to climb out the window before ten o’clock, take Xiao Tuo and Xinxin, and hurry to the train station.
We’ll meet at the station.
—[Excerpts from Lin Xirou’s Diary]