Zong Hang sat on the riverbank, fanning himself with a hand-powered electric fan. Behind him stood a row of staggered stilted houses, and across were scattered houseboats.
Some children who had been playing “flip-flop tossing” now crowded around him, eager to feel the cool breeze from the small fan – though it couldn’t compare to the wind sweeping across the lake. Zong Hang sometimes mischievously moved the fan from side to side, making the children’s heads follow its movement. But whenever he tried to turn around and talk to them, they scattered like startled deer, running far away before dissolving into fits of laughter.
The rumble of a motorcycle announced Apa’s arrival. He had attached a flagpole to his bike’s front with a triangular flag that read “Must Win.” He’d specially arranged this before departure – it subtly flattered the big boss Zong Bisheng while also suggesting their journey would be successful and smooth. Plus, the flag fluttering in the wind while riding looked quite impressive – truly killing three birds with one stone.
Sure enough, this display immediately caught the children’s attention. As Apa parked his bike and walked over with his head held high, they gathered around the motorcycle, tiptoeing and jumping to try to touch the flag’s edges.
Apa reached Zong Hang’s side and spoke with certainty: “Young Master, I’ve made a complete round, looked everywhere, and asked around. There are no grand houseboats with Spring Festival couplets on the doors and gourds hanging underneath.”
Zong Hang made an acknowledging sound and slightly lifted himself to pull out the poster he’d been sitting on. The back of the poster showed Lake Tonle Sap’s outline and the rough distribution of floating villages, now covered in dense red crosses.
Zong Hang held out his hand to Apa, who quickly passed him a pen, watching as Zong Hang marked another red cross on the map.
Apa was quite curious: “Young Master, why are you looking for a houseboat? Is there money inside?”
Zong Hang gave him a sidelong glance that seemed to say: How vulgar.
True, the Young Master’s family shouldn’t lack money, but this persistent search…
“Are you looking for a girl?”
Zong Hang didn’t respond verbally, but couldn’t suppress a smile.
It was strange – even after so much time and so many dead ends, he hadn’t become discouraged and remained cheerful.
Moreover…
“Young Master, haven’t you already had five girlfriends? You said it was boring and a waste of time, so why are you still pursuing something that wastes time?”
Zong Hang said: “What do you know?”
Fine, Apa fell silent, feeling inferior: the Young Master was already working on his sixth while he hadn’t even achieved his first. He had no right to comment on this matter.
If they hadn’t found it, they’d just keep looking.
Apa followed along without complaint, working diligently. Zong Hang had good reason to bring him – the deeper they went into the lake region, the less common the language became. Apa was a local, making communication easier. Apa also really wanted to use this opportunity to clear his reputation as a “jinx.” Before departure, he’d even faced Dragon Song’s contempt: “Are you up for it? Every time you go along, something big happens. What if this time…”
Apa had shouted back: “Why can’t something good happen when I’m around for once?”
After setting out, he prayed for Buddha’s blessing morning and night: his family had worshipped Buddha for generations, and he hoped Buddha would help him prove himself this time.
Buddha was merciful, and after a few days, they found something.
At the time, as usual, they had reached a large floating village. He and Zong Hang split up the work, each taking one side. With no one on the shore, he felt somewhat carefree, driving while lifting binoculars to his eyes to peer out over the lake.
Then, a bronze gourd floated into view.
They’d been talking about finding a gourd every day, but when he saw one, he didn’t react immediately. After the gourd floated out of view, Apa suddenly came to his senses and shouted: “Young Master, I found it!”
Then he crashed his bike, split his lip, and scraped some skin off his nose.
He didn’t care about any of that, even forgot about the bike, and ran full speed in Zong Hang’s direction, feeling all his past grievances washed away at once.
Found it! Finally found it!
Although he still wasn’t entirely clear about what exactly they were looking for.
They hired a boat at the shore and set off toward that houseboat.
While on the boat, Apa couldn’t sit still. He was full of energy as he questioned the pole man.
He learned that the boat had indeed arrived recently, occupied by a Vietnamese family – an elderly couple with several children, the oldest girl being only eight or nine.
Apa felt something was off – what kind of girl could they be pursuing here? The ages didn’t match up.
Hearing Apa’s report, Zong Hang remained silent for a long while, his heart unsettled and uncertain.
Had Yi Sa sold Chen Tu’s houseboat?
…
The small boat turned a corner, and finally, the houseboat appeared before them.
Zong Hang’s scalp tingled, his heart pounding like a drum, almost unable to catch his breath: This was the right houseboat. He had once desperately climbed onto its platform, had once helped Yi Sa with the ladder, and had once been stuffed into a plastic bag by Ding Xi and carried out through that simple door in the dead of night.
Nothing had changed, except the Spring Festival couplets had faded somewhat.
A barefoot middle-aged woman carrying a basin of clothes to wash walked across the platform.
Zong Hang’s mind sparked, and despite the boat still moving, he suddenly stood up, gripping Apa’s shoulder: “Sister Xiang! Sister Xiang! It’s me!”
He’d forgotten how narrow the small boat was – it couldn’t handle such movement. Apa couldn’t withstand the force and splashed into the water with a plunk. The boat rocked, and Zong Hang lost his balance, falling into the water on the other side.
Only the experienced pole man remained calm in the crisis, spreading his legs to stabilize the boat while complaining continuously.
Though unintelligible, he was probably cursing them for moving around recklessly and saying they deserved to fall in.
As for Li Zhenxiang, suddenly hearing someone call her Sister Xiang, she quickly looked toward the voice, only to see splashing water with someone’s head emerging, desperately waving at her: “Sister Xiang, Sister Xiang, it’s me!”
The face seemed slightly unfamiliar, but the scene was familiar. Li Zhenxiang suddenly remembered someone: back then, he had jumped from Su Cai’s boat, been beaten half to death, and then rescued by Old Boss Chen and Yi Sa. At the time, Old Boss Chen had repeatedly instructed her that this matter couldn’t be mentioned to outsiders or even family members – the words had to stay buried in her stomach.
Yes, she remembered, that young man couldn’t swim.
Li Zhenxiang instinctively dropped her laundry basin and bent down to grab the boat pole from the platform edge, thrusting it into the water while shouting: “Someone’s going to die! Help! The young man can’t swim!”
The pole swung through the water uselessly.
Meanwhile, a dripping wet Apa was being pulled onto the boat by the boatman, while Zong Hang’s head emerged from the platform edge. He wiped the water from his face and smiled at her: “Sister Xiang, it’s me.”
Eating Vietnamese rice noodles while watching the children drag A-Long and A-Hu around the boat with ropes around their mouths, Zong Hang finally learned what had happened.
It turned out that shortly after returning to Cambodia, Yi Sa had gone to the Baggai floating village.
She had told Li Zhenxiang that Chen Tu had returned to his country and wouldn’t be coming back, that he’d transferred the houseboat to her. If Li Zhenxiang wanted, she could continue working on the boat, and since Yi Sa would be away often, Li Zhenxiang could live on the first floor with her family, just keeping the second floor for Yi Sa.
Chen Tu and Yi Sa had always had a good relationship, so Li Zhenxiang believed her words without doubt. Besides, trading a shabby house for a big one – who wouldn’t want that? She happily moved in with her husband and three children, cleaning like before, feeding A-Long and A-Hu, and setting rules for her family not to go up to the second floor casually, afraid they might disturb Yi Sa’s things and upset her.
Zong Hang asked her: “How often does Yi Sa come to stay?”
Li Zhenxiang thought for a moment: “It’s hard to say, maybe once every month or two. She comes and goes as she pleases, never giving notice. The last time she came back, she stayed longer, but then because of trouble with some Thai people, the police came, and the floating village dispersed. After we moved the boat here, she left and hasn’t been back.”
It seemed they’d have to wait, but that was fine – one or two months gave them a timeframe at least.
Zong Hang said: “I need to find her, so I’ll stay here and wait.”
Then pointing upstairs: “Can I go up and take a look?”
The second floor hadn’t changed much either. The shelves in the clinic were still there, though with notably fewer goods, presumably sold off gradually over time. Chen Tu’s room was locked, while the original guest room and clinic had been connected, with Yi Sa staying in the guest room.
Her room was simple, without fancy furnishings. The only notable feature was a nail by the bedhead with a locked rope harness hanging from it – its purpose was unclear.
After looking around and coming out, Zong Hang remembered Yi Sa’s habit of using beast hemp, so he paused among the shelves for a while, looking for any stock. By chance, he noticed the desk drawer wasn’t fully closed.
He went over to push it in, but it didn’t work – something was stuck at the end. It could be fixed by removing and adjusting the drawer, but Yi Sa tended to do things roughly, and Li Zhenxiang wouldn’t touch her things, so it had stayed that way until now.
Zong Hang pulled the drawer out a bit to fix it, and his eyes fell on several scattered postcards.
They were the most ordinary kind, with Southeast Asian scenery on the front. Zong Hang picked them up to look, then suddenly noticed writing on the back. Feeling he shouldn’t pry into private matters, he quickly tried to put them back—but after doing so, he froze, his heart starting to race.
He was sure he hadn’t misread – in that glance, he thought he’d seen his name.
Was it written to him, or just mentioning him?
He hesitated for a long time, but ultimately couldn’t resist picking up that card again.
It was addressed to him.
The first line read: “Zong Hang, you must be old now?”
What old – he was still in his prime. Zong Hang was confused for a while before suddenly realizing: that this wasn’t meant to be sent to him anytime soon, but rather something Yi Sa had prepared for someone to send him many, many years later.
He felt alternating waves of hot and cold down his back as if he’d accidentally glimpsed some far-future secret.
Outside was peaceful, the sunlight just right. He could hear birds flying past, the sound of small boats cutting through the water, and Apa below, mumbling and playing with Li Zhenxiang’s children.
Zong Hang found himself sitting down in the chair.
“I might have been gone for a long time by now. I don’t know if I’ve outlived the Black Ghost, but I’m trying to. If I stay ahead of it, it becomes just a wild ghost.”
Zong Hang wanted to laugh, but his eyes stung a little.
“If I’m ahead of you, I’m your senior mentor, and I feel I should give you some guidance, so you won’t be flustered and hiding in your room crying when the final moment comes.”
“See how lucky you are – I’m figuring everything out ahead of you, while you just follow along getting everything ready-made. You are a young master, born lucky.”
This was the first card. At the bottom was a doodle of a little person – a ponytailed girl looking cocky, with a cigarette between her fingers.
Zong Hang clutched the postcards, lying on the table for a while. He felt lucky, truly lucky – even if he had stepped into life’s most unfortunate circumstances, he had found someone to love within those circumstances.
The second card.
“I bled today, but fortunately I had put a towel at the back of my neck. Your wound is in the chest and abdomen, blood flows downward, so a towel won’t help. After thinking about it, you should wear a thick chest wrap.”
After writing this, she must have found it amusing herself, as she wrote many “haha”s in a row.
Zong Hang smiled too. Being able to joke about such things meant she must be managing her emotions well. He hoped she was in good spirits and could laugh freely often, never crying secretly – that would be heartbreaking, especially that kind of heartbreak.
“I had the hotel kitchen make me some pig liver soup for blood replenishment. I hate the taste, but there’s no choice – every little bit helps, and when you’re low, you need to replenish. Next time I’ll try can give myself a blood transfusion directly. If it works, I’ll let you know.”
The third card.
“Fell out of bed at midnight today. The Black Ghost was pushing me. I’m so clever, I thought of using a rope harness method – worked the first time.”
“Can you trust your wife? If you can, I suggest you tell her about your condition. Having two people share the burden would be better. Tell her not to sleep too deeply at night, so she can wake you up in time.”
The fourth card is also the last one.
Perhaps because it was only the first year, and her eager mentorship didn’t have much experience to share yet, this card only had a couple of lines, starting with complaints about the Black Ghost.
“The Black Ghost is so stupid, tried to chat with it but it’s like talking to an idiot.”
“I miss you a little, do you miss me?”
In the margin was scrawled: “Don’t send this one.”
She probably felt that since she would be gone when these were sent, and he would be old, these youthful vulnerabilities, sentimental emotions, and long-past matters should just be let go – this one was just for herself to read.
Yi Sa was really… always calm and restrained, even when missing him, she had to add a modifier.
“A little.”
Leaving herself infinite room for retreat.
He wasn’t like her; he wanted to be more direct.
Zong Hang sniffled, picked up a pen from the desk, and wrote below: “Miss you, so very very much.”
After writing, he gathered all the postcards into his arms, as if afraid someone would snatch them away, as if he was holding the whole world.
Yi Sa rode her motorcycle to the lakeside.
After the houseboat had changed location, she had trouble remembering exactly where it was and took some wrong turns. But it wasn’t without gain – she met a newspaper vendor on the way with a pile of old papers for recycling, and while casually looking through them, she found two articles about Old Ma.
Both were from a month or two ago – one described his important role in bringing down a major drug lord; the other reported his return to China, saying he was concerned about retaliation from Su Cai’s associates and would be safer in China.
She took them, planning to put them on the wall – when she was gone someday, her former room would be a memorial hall. In these newspaper reports of major events, she had played a behind-the-scenes role, though her name never appeared in print.
After waiting a while, a small boat finally approached the shore. Yi Sa boarded with Black Ghost, reading the newspaper while chatting with the boatman, and asking about the floating village situation.
The boatman said nothing much had happened, except a young man had moved in recently – he was quite nice and often went fishing with the fishermen.
Yi Sa made a noncommittal sound, not thinking much of it.
A water village was just that – people coming and going, houseboats were like duckweed on the water, never taking root, never having roots.
When she reached the houseboat, there was surprisingly no one inside – probably they had gone to the lake area. Only Li Zhenxiang’s three or four-year-old son was there, walking back and forth on the platform bare-bottomed, throwing stones into the animal cage at A-Long and A-Hu, and gnawing on a book with his cheeks puffed out from the effort.
If it had been Li Zhenxiang’s other children, they would have welcomed her by now. The little one didn’t recognize people, just stared at Yi Sa as she stepped onto the platform, and at the Black Ghost behind her that was taller than him.
Yi Sa truly lacked that gentle, loving heart – she rolled her eyes at him and said, “What are you looking at? Get out of the way!”
The child, intimidated by her presence, instinctively stepped back.
Yi Sa had already walked past him when something struck her, and she stepped back.
Something was wrong – this houseboat was a cultural desert, where did a book come from?
She tilted her head to look at the title on the cover.
It was even in Chinese.
It read “Applied Anatomy of Military and Police Combat Techniques.”
Yi Sa’s mind roared. She said, “Give it to me.”
She reached out to grab it, but the child wouldn’t let go, relying on his iron teeth to resist her. After a brief struggle, Yi Sa eventually won, pulling the saliva-covered book from his mouth.
And so, people poling their boats past this houseboat saw this scene:
Yi Sa sat motionless on the platform, holding a rolled-up book, her fingernails scratching at the dense pages along its edge, lost in thought.
Beside her was an angry, sobbing, agitated child, constantly throwing things at her in fury: pebbles, cloth scraps, cabbage leaves…
Yi Sa ignored him, still sitting in place.
And squeezed between them, trying to mediate, was a huge water bird, awkwardly blocking the child again and again, as if saying: Let it go, let it go, she’s just like this, you’ll get used to it.
The child wasn’t satisfied. Wiggling his bare bottom, he ran into the house and dragged out what was for him a heavy object – a flashy basketball shoe – and threw it at Yi Sa.
Yi Sa raised her hand and caught it smoothly.
At the same moment, a small boat returning from the lake area, full of people, entered this waterway.
The boat was very lively at first, then, probably because someone spotted her, it became even livelier. Li Zhenxiang’s oldest son even jumped into the lake like a fish.
But one person wearing a sun hat, sitting barefoot at the stern, didn’t move at all.
Yi Sa put down the shoe, also not moving.
After a while, the boat came alongside, and Li Zhenxiang and the others climbed up chattering and asking her various questions, their cheerful voices mixed with the child’s desperate crying.
The boat was empty now, but that person still sat there, body swaying gently with the small boat.
Yi Sa asked him: “Are you planning to grow roots on the boat?”